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mv1simp · 10 months ago

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inspired by my fav @piastrification thank you for being in my walls 🫶🫶 hope you enjoy!!

Streets ♥️

Max Verstappen x PR Manager!Reader

we play our fantasies out in real life ways, and no final fantasy, can we end these games, though?

6 months ago, F1 champion Max Verstappen traded in his status as "serious cat dad with road rage issues" for "Genius. Playboy. Millionaire. Philanthropist". Since then you've been fighting absolute demons as his PR manager to keep his reputation clean in the media. After you tell him you've had enough, he proposes a very interactive solution to your problem.

Content includes: Humour, crackfic, fluff, so much sexual tension, 18+ MDNI, smut, playboy!max, exasperated manager! reader, a very well rounded fic for once?! 4.7k WC

If someone asked you where it’d all gone downhill, you’d have to say it started because of that greedy paparrazi rat Henri - photographer at the MonacoDaily, otherwise known as every PR manager’s sleep paralysis demon. Because this particular paparazzo had a nasty knack for capturing celebrities just as they made the most atrocious decisions known to mankind. And he had an even nastier knack for threatening to sell said photos to the highest bidder. Truly, it was a dark day for any media team when they were forced to bargain with such a foul demon, who’d be able to go toe to toe with the likes of Satan himself.

So when your phone dinged at 5am on a peaceful Sunday morning, only to reveal the 7th (7th!!) message this month from the very same greedy little rat, you threw it across the room. Only to then remember you devastatingly had not been born into a Dubai oil family and you needed this job to pay Monaco rent. The text turns out to be a photo of your aggravating client - Max Verstappen, F1 champion driver, loving father to two cats, and more recently, certified manwhoreTM. He’s living upto your nickname for him, pictured in some nightclub with a half naked blonde sitting on his lap. Alright, alright, not as bad as you were expecting, you could even photoshop the girl’s hair colour to match his current girlfriend’s one maybe? Well, except the brunette woman glaring behind him is his current model girlfriend of the month. You hear a ding, another text from Henri - this time with just a 😈 and 💸👀. You throw the phone back against wall.

Three hours later you’ve cleaned up the PR nightmare and are banging on Max’s apartment door. He blearily lets you in, shirtless and still looking half drunk, but you don’t hesitate to yank him by his beltloops and drag him to the dining table (after quickly checking out that broad chest of his, though, cause goddamn. You’re just a girl.)

Ow, ow, what the hell, Max groans as he’s shoved into a chair. Please. As if you could do any real damage in your 5 foot frame to the 6 foot driver. Slamming your hands on the table for some dramatic flourish (you’re never beating the theatre kid allegations) you give the Dutchman a piece of your mind, demanding to know what his problem is, does he know how many people you’ve had to bribe this month to stop #SluttyMaxEra trending on twitter?? And yes, you know he broke up with Kelly 10 months ago but can’t he just process this healthily and go to therapy instead of having a hoe phase and hooking up with every third woman in Monaco?

Max looks insulted at this slight to his honor. He retaliates by accusing you of buying into the patriarchy and slut shaming him (-That’s not how that works but pop off king, is your deadpan response), and telling you he’s very much over Kelly, okay, it was an amicable breakup (-Sure, Verstappen, that’s why you’d only played Lana Del Ray for a whole month afterwards, huh?) and well, what’s the issue, he’s a hot and rich guy in Monaco, it’s not his fault women just want him? Would it not be #misogynistic of him to deny women the opportunity to explore their sexuality?! He smirks, pleased with his defence.

You groan, slumping down on a chair and burying your face in your hands, muffling your groan of wholesome cat dad Max comeback whennn. Max rolls his eyes at your theatrics, asking if you’d finally lost the plot.

You try cleaning up the PR messes you’ve been making, Max Emilian, you hiss furiously, remember Ibiza? Santorini? The goddamn yacht party over summer break when he got with the captain and her deputy?! (Even now, thinking of that leaking online gives you heartburn.)

Which yacht, Max says cockily, the one where he got with them one after another or at the same time?

Your jaw drops. You hadn’t even known about the threesome, so you suppose you should be grateful that wasn’t another mess to clean up. But a deeper, insecure part of you can’t help but wonder why the only woman Max doesn’t seem to want is you.

And sometimes you can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to be one of his girls, under his strong body for once instead of on the other side of his hotel wall, having to drown out the very satisfied female moans and headboard bangs with noise cancelling headphones. Like always, you push that thought down quickly.

You, good sir, are for the streets, you announce, standing up and deciding it was time to leave before your delulu, jealous thoughts decided to resurface. Seriously, you mutter under your breath, you didn’t care if his current side quest was to fuck 10 times a week, but could he at least stick to one person for a bit and not make more work for you-

Max’s hand slams the front door back closed as you started to open it. You freeze, turning back to look at him smirking down at you. You hadn’t expected him to follow you down the hallway and you gulp nervously for the safety of your job - you might have taken the roasting a bit too far.

Instead, you get a sly, Oh, so I can do whatever I want, wherever I want, just with one person?

At your awkward nod, because yes, that would significantly ease your workload, he continues, enjoying teasing his uptight, pretty manager - then were you gonna offer yourself up? After all, there’s no PR messes to find out about if it’s you, right?

You blink at Max, completely stunned by the 180 this conversation has taken. Your expression is so adorable that he couldn’t resist a you’re so cute when you’re acting all jealous, you could’ve just asked if you wanted him to fuck you, ya know?

That promptly reminds you you’re dealing with an an absolute manwhore. RIP celibacy era Max, you’ll always be famous.

Um, absolutely fucking not, keep your STDs to yourself, you hiss, flushing head to toe, and furious at the desire in you to give into the devilish proposal. He encourages you to think about it, still smirking, relaxing his grip so you can mercifully flee far away from his intense gaze. Jesus, when did he learn to rizz a girl up like that?!

You don’t take his proposal seriously at all, ignoring his cocky looks at you over meetings all week (also, he’d texted you his clean STD result to assure you he was a #SafeSexKing.) But that weekend, your refusal comes back to haunt you when you’re on a well deserved night out with your girlfriends and your PR manager senses start going off. You narrow your eyes as you spot Max in the dark corner of the nightclub, hands all over a mystery redhead. She’s not going to be a mystery much longer though - if you’d spotted them it was a matter of time before fan’s phones did and then you’d wake up to another goddamn text from your sleep paralysis demon, Henri.

You don’t even have to think about it twice. Saying goodbye to your friends, you’re at Max’s side at a very impressive speed given your 6 inch stilettos and tight sparkly minidress, and once again dragging him off by the beltloops and into an open bathroom.

He lets you yank him away, smirking when he sees you lock the door for good measure. Sweetheart, he greets. So good to see you. Finally realised you couldn’t resist me?

You practically climb him like a tree while telling him to shut the fuck up and pay attention at media training day next time, because what kind of PR crisis did he have unfolding out there? And just this once you’ll help him out, you say breathlessly in between deep kisses, but this isn’t a regular thing -

There’s not much more talking from you because he has you moaning up against the wall next, fingers buried inside your tight little pussy as he talks you through an orgasm, and then another when he splits you in half on his cock. (Once again, manwhore, who carries a condom in their jean pockets?!)

Unfortunately for your self control but very fortunately for your sex life, it is not in fact, a “one time thing”. Your trusty rose vibrator is glad for the break as you’d been taking your year long frustrations at your dry spell out on her. Especially when coming home after staying in hotels where you’d had to book out rooms neighbouring Max’s, so no one else overheard the raunchy vocals of different women every night.

Like Max said, with you, there were no more illicit PR messes to find out about in the middle of the night. You’d redirect him everytime he gave you bedroom eyes (At the pre race debrief. Post race debrief. Weekly team plan meeting. Over zoom calls? Seriously?) - gently taking his large hand and guiding him to a much more hidden, PR crisis-friendly area. To your surprise, Max actually sticks to his word and only hooks up with you - admittedly, multiple times a week (Not that you’re complaining. Turns out he was just as good in bed as he was on the track. Except this time he was definitely not finishing first...)

And for a while, everything is going well. There are no more weekly scandals scattered across trashy celeb magazines about Max. Your boss is gushing with praise, so impressed that you’ve finally managed to talk some sense into Redbull’s problem child (ah, if only she knew, but she never would, because the goddamn CIA couldn’t torture this info out of you) and best of all, you haven’t gotten a text from papparazzi rat Henri in weeks!

So of course, Max Verstappen decides that things are getting just a little bit too quiet for his liking, you had to earn your generous PR manager salary, that he paid for, right? His new, numerous tactics to stir the pot had included:

Going to clubs with no private bathrooms so you’d had to sit on his lap in the VIP lounge as he pulled your panties to the side to slide into you, barely hidden under your flimsy dress. You’d held back your moans and prayed the bass was too loud for anyone to hear

Sitting right next to you at every team dinner or business meeting so that he could sneak a large hand up your thigh and tease your pussy for fucking hours, often just as you were about to speak. And when you’re clenching the table so hard your fingers were white, he’s bending under the table to pick up a pen or something but instead left teasing licks and kisses on your aching core. You'd learnt very quickly not to wear a skirt.

Picking you up in his 2 seater Aston Martin instead of the much more appropriate discreet, spacious, 5 seater Audi he owned - so when he was too pent up after a bad practise session to wait till he got home, he'd get you to go down on him right there in the car, sometimes even as he drove, instead of parking in some hidden backstreet. It was so dirty, that he needed you so desperately that he didn't care about being caught by anyone peeking in through the half tinted windows. Because if they did look, they’d find his head thrown back in pleasure as he moans, his fingers tangled in your curls as he moved your drooling, pink lips up and down his wide cock-

Anyways, you get the picture. And he’d escalated this all the way to the paddock, which was insane because there were always multiple cameras trained on the current F1 champion. It’s the one place you two couldn’t sneak off without a very high risk of being caught, as evidenced by the one and only time he'd managed to get under your skin in the garage. He'd had you pinned up against the wall in some narrow side hallway as he whispered how fucking sexy you’d looked today, wearing his hoodie to cover up the hickies you hadn’t realized you’d woken up with and paired with some tiny denim shorts. Having the 6 foot champion huskily groan that he couldn’t focus on his free practise everytime you bent over to pet a passing dog, or when you innocently sucked on the Redbull flavoured lollipops and then the goddamn ice cream from the truck they’d brought in - was quite the power trip, you admit. So you guided his lips from your neck as he tries to add to the growing bruises on your neck and redirected him to your waiting lips instead, steamily making out as his large hands squeezed your thick ass like he’d been thinking about all day-

Max?!?

You instantly pull back from the driver and turned to see a flabbergasted looking GP - Max’s race engineer. His jaw is wide open as he looked at you two with round eyes. You’re fumbling to explain, trying and failing to push Max back - who looks rather annoyed at the intrusion and semi-glares at GP with narrow eyes. You hiss at the younger man to stop being rude and slip underneath his arms, going over to guiltily apologise to GP only to be met with You too?! How did he get you in his bed, you hated how much of a slut he was! Seriously, does he have a magical dick? Now you stare at GP in shock, unsure of how to respond to his question while Max starts laughing behind you. You make him join you as you promise to GP that he will never have to witness this again, because there will be no unprofessional behaviour of any sort on the paddock after "BootyShorts Gate" as you thereafter dub the incident. Regardless, GP still shoots you both wary glances and begins the habit of announcing his arrival and waiting 10 seconds before turning a corner in the garage, earning him many an odd look. Dramatic, really, was this where Max gets it from?

Max, of course, was very displeased with this new “professionalism” rule you'd set down - on the paddock was when he'd get the most tense, the most horny and desperate to have you underneath him, after all - and he made sure you knew it. You deliberately ignored his heated gaze on you as you interviewed him, or his lingering touches when he helped you hold your microphone up to his much taller frame, large hand wrapped around your small ones clutching the mic. Or his recent favourite, which involved standing next to you to help pick out the insta pics post-race (something he'd notoriously always hated to do) - except now, he conveniently happened to be shirtless, his toned abs and broad shoulders on display, running a hand through his sweaty tousled hair.

This last seduction tactic had sent you fleeing to Checo's garage to seek out the other Redbull driver's PR manager and beg on your knees for a client swap, surely, the sponsor benefits are legendary for whoever Max's PR manager is -

Nope. Nuh uh, no way, Checo is the breeziest driver ever to look after. The other manager pauses. Well, except for the occasional political military coup scandal in Mexico. But still, I'd take that any day over El Manwhore.

You wailed at whatever Gods had decided to curse you and took matters into your own hands, furiously plotting up social media campaign idea after idea that were exactly the kind of thing Max hated with a burning passion - hoping it would get him to back off on his tactics and wave a white flag. From viral TikTok challenges, to making him read all his cringe 2008 tweets, and even making him play fuck, marry, kill with the drivers of the grid. You'd admit, that last one had been rather funny to watch, making you chuckle as you scrolled through the comments, liking "Can't believe we got Max Verstappen saying he would fuck Lewis, kill Pierre and marry Charles before GTA 6" and "does Redbull admin know she posted this on main?!"

But despite your best efforts, it didn't seem to deter Max. If anything, he'd begrudgingly do the task and end up laughing excitedly at you - who was holding the camera - about some joke or the other and make your stupid heart flutter. You knew you definitely should not be catching feelings for your client - who'd made it very clear his interest in you was only physical. But no one needed to know that sometimes you’d log into your fake account to like the "Who got max giggling and kickin his feet and shii?" comments.

Meanwhile, Max had caught wind of your desperation for an escape attempt with Checo’s manager and had upped the ante. He slyly mentioning to Christian Horner than you were doing such a great job as his PR manager, could he pretty please have you promoted to his general manager for his non racing publicity too?

And that's how you found yourself at a Dior Sauvage photoshoot, despite your adamant protests to Horner. You were putting your Masters of Business Adminstration, first class honours, to fantastic use by babysitting a 26 year old child who liked fast cars that went vroom vroom. The only redeeming factor is that you can leave the unflattering Redbull shirt at home since this wasn't for F1 publicity and instead wear a nice outfit for once. Still, you thought it was odd that Max had so easily accepted this campaign, as he wasn't normally one to enjoy doing PR.

A few minutes later you've figured out exactly why your favourite manwhore had agreed to this campaign, because he's grinning at you while posed shirtless, toned abs and broad shoulders all on display as some pretty, busty model is draped over him. The photographer is making this even more painful for you by dragging out the shoot, making Max and the model reposition herself multiple times. You roll your eyes at the scene, because obviously they're two very attractive people who will look good together no matter what, did the photographer really need to be so extra? You stalk off at some point to make yourself a hot chocolate in the hopes it'll sooth the flames of jealousy that are threatening to consume you right now. Max approaches you when a break is called, running a teasing hand along your waist from the back and whispering you looked so fucking hot in this tight maxi dress, making you nervously look around to see if anyone noticed. Luckily, all the staff appeared busy and didn’t look in the dim corner you'd settled into to do paperwork. You hiss at him to keep your hands to yourself, Verstappen making him grin and inform you that's not what you’d said last night, in fact, you were practically begging for him to do the exact opposite-

You're glaring up at him, seriously contemplating if it’s worth breaking your contract clause to "act in the client's best interests" and mauling him with your laptop when the photographer comes up to you both with narrowed eyes. You guiltily step back, thinking he overhead Max's suggestive comments, but instead he just looks back and forth between you two contemplatively. Then, just as you were about to ask him what the issue was, he announces that you'd be replacing the model as the female for the shoot. No questions asked! he announces as you try to protest and snaps his fingers at the makeup and wardrobe artists to demand they sort you out (he gestures rather dramatically to your whole figure when he says this, making you scowl).

So that's how you find yourself dressed in a silky gold minidress with a sultry eye look, pressed up against Max's broad chest and trying not to focus on the intimate position you two are in. Max, however, has no such qualms about the position, using it to tease you further. You've been looking extra tense lately, sweetheart, he breathes, those devilish lips brushing past your ear. I know a great way to make you relax? You growl at him to shut the fuck up because oh my god, did he know how many cameras are pointed at you both right now? Besides, you mutter under your breath, it seemed like he was very interested in relaxing with that blonde model earlier.

Fighting to keep the smug look of his face, Max whispers back that there was No need to be jealous, schatje, you were the only one getting access to his magical dick. So caught up in the game you two are playing, you don't even register the photographer excitedly snapping up pictures, proclaiming that he knew it, the chemistry between these two is unbelievable!

Afterwards, as you're walking off the photoshoot, feeling all hot and bothered from Max's hands running across your exposed skin, shamelessly looking you up and down, the blonde Dutchman catches up to you. He teases you that you were going to get wrinkles at 25 if you didn't stop scowling all the time. I'm older than you, you scoff back, by a whole 6 months, in fact, so maybe you should actually listen to me for once instead of pissing me off? No problem, Max agrees, after all, he's always had a thing for MILFs. You can't help snort at his retort and then start laughing when he tries to maintain an innocent look. At least you were away from the cameras in case someone heard this, you mused.

Unfortunately, you both don't notice MonacoDaily's ratbag paparrazo, Henri, hiding in nearby shrubbery with his camera. It had been far too long without a Verstappen news scandal, he thought with a satisfied smirk as he clicked away.

And later than night, after you'd eaten the chicken stir fry he'd cooked and rewatched Cars 2 (a surpassingly more regular occurrence, these days, to unwind with him at the end of the day instead of immediately being mauled the second you stepped foot in his apartment) you made sure he followed your orders for once. Sitting him back, telling him just how bad he'd been today with all his teasing (-well, it worked, didn't it, sweetheart?) you showed him just how good you were at playing the game, too. And soon, he was breathlessly moaning underneath you as you rode him for the first time, gripping his cock like you were going to milk every last drop, teasing him with just enough pace to get him worked up but not enough to send him over the edge. And you only let him cum inside you when he begged you sweetly, making you go fuzzy at the sight of the infamous Redbull playboy being so desperate for you, and only you.

Afterwards, once you've shampooed each other's hair in the shower while gossiping about how catty that makeup artist had been, really, to imply that your pretty curls had been the problem and not her shitty styling? and Max has got you spooned against him, warm in an old hoodie of his, pressing a goodnight kiss to your forehead, you can't control the warmth blossoming in your chest any longer. And as a content sleep takes a hold of you, you can't help but wonder if Max's affections went beyond physical attraction, just like yours’ were now doing.

It turned out the opportunity to find out this answer would come the very next day, when the ding of your phone wakes you up in the early hours of the morning. It’s a very specific sound that you've set for a certain ratbag - and you get war flashbacks, hearing it now after so long. Scrambling off the bed, ignoring Max's muffled groans as you shove his heavy arm of you, you unlock your phone and gasp in horror as your suspicions are confirmed. Henri has arisen from the ashes and this time it's to deliver his sauciest scandal yet. Because a picture tells a 1000 words, sure, but he has the two of you on a goddamn video, flirting and giggling at each other as you exited the studio yesterday. There's no chance of you talking your way out of this one, as Max's large palm wanders to give your thick ass a firm squeeze as he guides you into his passenger seat. Goddamn, you knew you shouldn't have worn that tempting skims maxi dress - Max was an ass (and tits) man who couldn't be trusted to control himself in public. BTW already sold this 🥸 Henri texts. Just a courtesy FYI cuz I brought a boat with the bag from this one ✌️

You contemplate if it would be better to disappear off the face of the planet, or get plastic surgery to become unrecognisable as you chug your morning Redbull while moodily looking over the Monaco sunrise. Max joins you after a few minutes, looking extremely cute as he rubs the sleep out of his baby blue eyes and asks you what's wrong, schatje.

Taking a deep sigh (like you said, #DramaKid), you break the news. I’m going to hold your hand while I say this (- that’s really not necessary, Max interrupts) - but you know celibacy exists, right? As does having sex in a private location without the risk of being arrested for public indecency?

True, Max agrees, but what was the fun in that? Besides, you were just too hot to resist. Ignoring the butterflies at his cheesy flirting, you hold up the incriminating video on your phone as proof that it was not all fun and games, as Henri had already sold this to multiple news outlets this morning, you inform glumly. Max is strangely silent, looking intently at the video and even replaying it a few times, his eyes crinkling as a soft smile appears on his face when he hears the sound of you two laughing. Then - in a truly unbelievable redemption arc plotline from the Monaco playboy - he asks if it would be so terrible, to have this made public, to let the world know that you were together?

Well, I - you stumble over your words, - I dunno, I thought you liked that? Keeping it secret cause you just wanted a convenient hook up?

Max is silent again. Then, looking uncharacteristically nervous, he says that's not what he wants, not really, not anymore - not since he'd fallen in love with you, somewhere along the 3 months of the friends with benefits/PR manager and her problematic client situationship you’d had. And like at the very start, you don’t even need to think about it twice. This time when you shyly smile and kiss him, you make sure he can feel your love through it and know that you wanted more, too.

So you walk into work that morning, holding hands in open defiance, ready for the world to see. You’re rather confused when no one seems to be paying much attention, instead frantically trying to get the set up ready for the pre race testing. Maybe you two had not been as indiscreet as you thought and people already suspected? Or maybe you both had a penchant for drama and thought you were the main characters when you clearly were not?

You look at each other, shrug, and you give him a kiss on the cheek and tell him you’ll see him for lunch at the kebab shop on the corner, before he wanders off to the garage. Maybe Henri had a change of heart and decided not to exploit innocents for fame and money, you ponder hopefully. Maybe there truly was good in the world, after all.

And then you hear your name being called and turn to see your boss standing behind you menacingly, hands on hips. Care to explain why #MaxLovesMILFS is trending right now?

Somewhere along the Monaco waterfront, a paparazzi rat skulking in the bushes sneezes.

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A/N: again thank you so much to @piastrification for inspiring this piece!! So sorry for the delay and I hope you enjoy my attempt at branching out to other fics xx tysm to you all for the requests, I am working them into my upcoming fics!! 💖

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livelaughlovesubs · 9 months ago

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~ 01.10 - (whb) Lucifer ~

Dom!reader x sub!lucifer - reader is gender neutral

Warning: nipple play, lactation, dacryphilia, marking, objectification (a little), pet names, teasing, praise kink (a little), cumming untouched, eating cum (both), cum play, tongue kiss, mind break, sub-space, dacryphilia

~ Word count: 5.7k ~

Nini!rant: okay.. huh.. first one done, and it’s our beautiful luci

Kinktober list 2024

The sound of birds chipping echoed through the greenhouse, where you were enjoying some afternoon tea. Their singing wasn’t rhythmic nor melodic, yet it was calming and quite befitting the atmosphere. At least they served the purpose of breaking the silence between you and the person sitting across you. He requested your presence and had you come all the way to Paradise Lost, only to play house with you.

This was truly an awful experience, getting interrogated like this by none other than the strongest being in hell, the Lucifer himself. Though can you call it interrogation, when all he has done was staring at you through his bangs? At least the treats were good, you were able to distract yourself from the infuriating situation at hand. The smell of tea filled your nostrils, it tickled the tip of your nose. A single sip was all it took to bring a smile to your face, a pleased expression showing in response to the rich aroma of your drink.

All of the flavors were amazing and exquisite. It was just the right amount of sweetness to brighten your mood, and enough bitterness to keep your mind alerted. Despite the tense situation, or the lack of it to be precise, he was still the first creation of god. That’s a title worth fearing. The first light of dawn, the first angel, basically the one who has witnessed it all. It was a given that the pressure would linger despite the seemingly gentle atmosphere. No matter how he tried to mask this interaction up as a simple tea party, you were going to be careful around him. Better that than sorry.

You took another sip, feeling the warmth of the tea chase out the chilly sensations from before. Something was missing though, you were craving some milk with your tea.

The gentle sunlight felt like a warm embrace, a blanket that sheltered all of hell. If Gehenna had the same weather as here, then Leraye must be feeling pretty down. A soft smile formed on your lips at the thought of that sunshine of a child, and the corners of your mouth twitched ever so slightly. Lucifer, who sat opposite to you, observed your every mimic with a nonchalant expression, studying them even.

His messy hair, as bright as the light, shone alongside the sun. After a moment’s hesitation, he talked in his usual deep yet tender voice, one that could bring his subject to the brink of ecstasy, “For what my brother did, I want to apologize.” The first words that left his throat were apologetic ones, then he swiftly changed it to a firm tone, “I’d be willing to make up to you.”

Make up to you, he said. Was he perhaps trying to lessen the sins of his dearest ones? Now that’s an interesting offer, it caught you off guard and sent a chill down your spine. As if someone just pushed you into a pond. Nevertheless, you had to be careful, one wrong step could end up with your head rolling around, and you still haven’t decided on how dangerous that guy was. If we were to go by what Satan mentioned, it would take the power of all the six kings of hell to have a chance at defeating this guy.

With lingering doubts, you opened your mouth, replying after much contemplating and care, “Could you elaborate on that?” First, you needed to know what he meant by his words, to clear off any possible misunderstandings. To make up to you, it sounds like he owes you a favor. Of course, you despised that self-righteous angel for his deeds and sins committed against you, yet you would never blame it on someone not involved. His gaze shifted from you to his cup, staring at his reflection in the liquid.

He had a guess about how you must feel at this moment, hence his explanation, “A sexual favor is also possible.” Those words had an unfamiliar ring to Lucifer, it was the first time in eons that he used them. In a deep, hidden corner of his mind, he wished to know what you had done with his relatives. What was the saying again? Curiosity killed the cat, but the cat had nine lives and came back satisfied? “You may show me what you did with my brothers.” He suggested, adding some information to his previous statement.

That would never happen, at least not now, not when you are in such a vulnerable position. Who knows what he might do with you after finding out about all the things you did, about how you made his brothers cry. Still you were intrigued, seeing this flawless… person— cry would surely be quite the adventure and bring forth a fitting satisfaction, even so, you valued your life, enough to not want to die a gruesome death.

The best way to get out of this mess would be to act kind and naive. You smiled insincerely, hiding your skeptic feelings behind a carefully crafted mask. “Thanks for your concern, but I’m fine, there is no need for you to apologize.” A tone tender enough to make flower petals seem rough, paired with a bright smile full of rejection.

“Is that so.” The angel in front of you acknowledged your words, he used his arms to push himself up from his seat. Now that he stood up, you remembered how intimidating he actually was. Considering that he was incredibly tall, adding on the fact he also owned a fearsome aura around him. It was a feel unique to the seraphim, one that just reeked of unyielding pride.

Your finger clenched around your teacup tighter, awaiting his next move. “Follow me,” Lucifer said. It wasn’t a question nor was he polite about it, it was an order. There was no doubt he was an angel, some habits just never change. Though in all honesty? Every single one of his mannerisms reminded you of one. The subtly arrogance, how he seemed like he felt superior to everyone, the commanding voice, and the cold shoulder he gave you. Should you really follow such a person? What choices did you have, when it was a direct order from the avatar of pride?

Even so, you wanted to voice your concerns first, gulping down the knot in your throat. “Where are we going?” You tried to sound unsuspecting and cheerful, the last thing you wanted was to accidentally offend him. To be honest all you wanted was to run and escape this suffocating place. “To my bedroom.” He answered nonchalantly, as if that was the most normal thing in the world, to invite someone you barely knew to your bedroom.

One didn’t need to be a genius to guess what his intentions were, so you had to set the record straight right here right now. Who knows, maybe he will let you go if your preferences don’t align. That would be quite a nice outcome indeed. After mustering up enough courage, you stood up as well, looking him sternly in the eyes as you made yourself clear, “If your plan is what I think it is, then please pardon me. I do not wish to get intimate with a stranger.”

A stranger, you said. Right, that’s one way to describe your current relationship. Lucifer thought about your words carefully, looking for the right things to say to convince you. Your logic was understandable, it was the correct way to do it after all. Though he didn’t have time to wait for you to open up to him. The only reason why he wanted to share a night with you was to get Solomon’s descendant on his side, and doing it in the romantic, patient way wouldn’t do. For that, he was too jealous of Solomon to treat his descendants with compassion.

Besides this was hell, the most efficient way to get things done was simply through a sexual act. That way you can find out a lot about the other party. Long story short, he wasn’t going to heed your will. “I understand your point, though I fear I can’t accept it.” He began, and continued after taking a few steps in your direction, “If you wish, you can simply admire and touch me as if I’m merely an object. We don’t need to go all the way.”

Who the heck did he think he was, sure, he was a very prominent figure, but even then how could he disregard and disrespect your opinion like this. “No, I-” He glared at you for a split second, furrowing his eyebrows as he interrupted your sentence, “I won’t take no for an answer, it’s for hell.” Then his features reverted back to the neutral one. For a moment, he reminded you of a certain devil who was known for his bad temper.

With much complaining, you eventually gave up and agreed to his request, feeling a little cornered. “Fine, lead the way then.” You answered begrudgingly, forcing out a meek smile. Lucifer’s expression still didn’t change, he stared at you blankly for a second, before turning around and repeating the words he previously uttered, “Follow me.” How irritating he was, just like any other devil, or angel for that matter.

Not long after you found yourself slandering through the gigantic halls of his palace, it was decorated extravagantly in all the different shades of gold. Merely walking on such expensive-looking ground made you feel inferior. Wherever you looked you could hear the objects scream ‘broke’ at you. This wasn’t a treatment you expected in Paradise Lost, it sounded more befitting of Mammon’s castle.

On the other hand, it was to be expected that the resting place of every king must be of the highest quality, whether if they liked it or not, their subjects would arrange it for them in that manner. Despite you walking right behind him, you didn’t want to watch his back. All you did was curse about how everything unfolded. His shoulders were wide, paired with a slim waist to match. He was wearing a large suit jacket, yet he couldn’t conceal that fact. The way he walked was befitting his aura, rid of any hints of hesitation and full of precision. If someone didn’t know his position, they could still guess it, all due to his habits.

After a while, he finally reached his wanted destination, stopping in front of a room. You sneaked up next to him, still unable to do anything but watch from the sidelines. There was not a single word you two exchanged during your little trip, causing it to be more or less awkward. Lucifer pushed the door open, turning the doorknob and stepping inside, of course, you followed shortly after. The inside of the room was even more lavish than the gorgeous floors outside. Each piece of furniture fit into the frame, all of them had their own designated place, and the way they were lined up implied someone meticulously planning all of it out beforehand.

You couldn’t help but be amazed, these rooms are more than what one could categorize as luxury. Sure, the other king’s palaces didn’t fall behind in any aspects, though you were still impressed nonetheless. To think you’d be allowed inside such a grandiose space… if this was Earth it must cost a fortune. All your initial impressions were washed away the moment you recalled his presence. How did you manage to forget, for even one frame of a second? The moment you noticed, you started keeping to yourself again, hoping you didn’t step out of line. Eyes weakly scanning the room, avoiding his gaze at all costs. What he did next was unexpected, so much so that you ended up finding yourself staring without knowing what to do.

He walked over to the bed, sat down, and began to undress.

The first piece of clothing to be dropped was his jacket with the white snake. Dropping it off onto the ground, then slowly unbuttoning his shirt. In your head, a million thoughts flooded you, especially because you were confused about what to do. When Lucifer started taking his dress shirt off, revealing his toned body, you decided you had enough and asked, “What’s this supposed to mean?” Without even thinking about it, contemplating what he wanted to say, he blurted out, “Seducing you.”

The way he replied was as if he saw nothing wrong with his deeds and choice of words. “Really now? Why would someone like you bother?” Despite a small fraction in the back of your mind having already expected this, considering his intentions were as clear as water, you still had a glimmer of hope that that wouldn’t be the case. He didn’t have any connections with Solomon like the other kings, on the contrary, he is envious of him. For a man like him to want to earn your favor - it sounds unbelievable.

“I simply wanted to try my shot, perhaps I failed already?” Lucifer questioned after seeing your serious expression, his shirt was loose now but not taken off completely. “Failed what?” You asked him, hoping that you could gather enough information to make sense of what was going on. “Failed to impress you.” The blondie said, without hesitation or a hint of sarcasm. Why would you want to impress me, was what you would have liked to ask, though your guts told you to stay quiet.

It’s a given that anyone would be in awe of him, considering how endearing he’s been the entire time. Even now, him sitting on his bed while flexing his muscles and that slim waist; every part of him was proof that he was sculpted by the loving hand of god personally. “No, that’s not the case..” you stopped mid-track, thinking about the possible outcomes for a bit, being hasty could cause backlash after all. If you praised him, he might take it as consent, but if you refused, would he get defensive? Was he a case like Levi?

Instead of pondering over this any longer, you took a gamble. Fine, since he wished to get laid so badly, shall you entertain him then? You walked up to him and hopped onto the bed as well. The soft sunlight still grazed your skin, the mattress sinking due to your added weight. “I’m plenty impressed, lucifer.” You had to show determination and sincerity, otherwise it wouldn’t bear fruits.

This wasn’t a lie though, he was very beautiful.

Your arm reached out for the male, finding yourself more and more captured by him with each passing second. Now that you were above him, he didn’t seem all that intimidating anymore. Fingers intertwined with his locks, stroking him while giving him a big smile. It felt pleasant, that was his first thought. Like the warmth god showered him with before Solomon came. A deep sigh left him, bitterness suddenly intruded into the room, and the atmosphere proceeded to sink.

No matter how you tried to brush it off, it seemed like he was troubled. It couldn’t have been something you did, right? Nonetheless, you hugged him gently. Your hands were still wrapped in his hair, scraping his scalp with a tenderness he hadn't felt for a long time. You pulled him closer to you until you were both resting your chins on the other’s shoulder. His sharp teeth were dangerously close to your skin, but you tried not to worry.

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, no one is forcing you, even if it’s your duty.” Your voice rang through his head, it brought forth a strange sense of comfort. “I’m doing it out of my own will.” He retorted. It smelled fishy to you, but you didn’t pursue it further. Eventually, he returned your embrace. “That’s comforting to hear.” So you replied, If you were to enjoy yourself, you had to make sure the other person wanted it too.

You took a deep breath, taking in his scent before exhaling. Your hot breath tickled his neck and before he knew it, you kissed his neck gently. The way you did it was as if you drew on his skin with your lips. One mark after another, planting them around him and corrupting him with your traces. He was taken aback, though it didn’t feel bad. At most, it tickled, which is why he let you continue, while all he did was breathing softly next to your ear. Each exhale blew some air against your skin as well, cheering you on to continue your actions.

Soon, your kisses turned into sucks, leaving behind more of your presence, proof and traces of this session today. The spots you touched would turn red shortly after, and persist for the rest of the day. How greedy of you, did you wish to mark him as yours?

“Child of Adam- uh, no, of Solomon… you, haaah.” He called out to you, hands lingering over your back. This was the first time you saw him hesitating to do something, he wasn’t sure if he had permission to crawl at your back. “Never mind.” Lucifer sighed and let you continue your little drawing session.

With time you also trailed off, going lower with your movements. All that persisted was a path from his neck to the middle of his chest. He sat up straight, only to get pushed into the mattress by you. His shirt was hanging off his shoulders as if he carefully orchestrated it this way. You hovered above him, hands releasing his hair and instead grabbing the sides of his torso. There you traced his silhouette with your hands until you were holding his astonishingly small waist.

It felt good, his skin was smooth and nice to the touch, also your hands fit in that place so perfectly, as if he was God's gift to you. Besides he seemed to like it as well, since he didn’t protest. Instead, his face started to flush slightly, alongside a sudden change in rhythm with his heartbeat. “I’m guessing I’m supposed to leave it all to you..?” Lucifer gazed up at you through half-lidded eyes, a slight, almost inaudible tremble underneath his voice. “That’s right, you told me I can treat you like an object.” You reminded him, he didn’t know if you meant it or not.

You started sucking on his nipples afterward, first licking the area and circling around it with the tip of your tongue, then flicking the wet muscle over his perky buds. His breasts were squishy and so pretty, you couldn’t help yourself. After taking a glance at his reddened face, you began sucking on his pecs. A shiver ran down his spine at the realization, face twisted into a pleasure-ridden expression.

This wasn’t a completely new feeling, since he did have experience with intimacy, though he was never the bottom. Or, rather, no one ever dared to top and grope him like this. You were truly beyond what a normal mortal was, having the resolve to touch him however you want without shivering in fear. At this rate, he might become quite fond of you.

“Do you enjoy touching me there?” He uttered, a breathy moan following close by. “I would do it if I didn’t like it.” You snapped back, a part of you wondered how you suddenly got the courage to talk to him like that. Was it because he’s under you? “…be gentle with me then.” The Blondie said, turning his face to the sides to avoid your watching gaze. “I can’t promise it, but I’ll try.” A teasing smile showed on your face as you uttered those words, eyes squinted slightly into a suspicious smile. “You don’t look trustworthy at all.” Lucifer mocked, though you ignored him and instead rolled your eyes.

Now that things have escalated to this point, the angel was wondering how far you two would go. Was this the end or the beginning, will he regret it in the end? “Ha.. uh-uhm,.” Occasionally, a sharp gasp would slip from him. Whenever you used too much force or pinched him too hard, the pain he felt would turn into pleasure and raise his libido, rendering him unable to repress his voice. Whatever this was, it must be what god wanted for him and his brothers, right? Otherwise, he wouldn't have created this feeling, this bliss and ecstasy.

You tried your best to stimulate both of his nipples, rolling the cute pink bud between your teeth. Red marks have plagued his upper area too now, and the amount was much more compared to his neck. A sense of pride filled you at your own achievement, or better yet, at this work of art beneath you. “Simply divine.” You uttered while gazing up at him through an adoring gaze, something completely different from only minutes ago. Then you noticed how his eyes were half-lidded, face blushing and lips parted due to his heavy breathing. A tired look on his face as he stared at you through wet lashes, or was it a needy look?

Who in the world would be able to resist such temptation, the temptation of the most powerful being getting all submissive for you. It has gotten increasingly difficult to resist this fine man, much harder than it was with anyone else. Without wasting more precious time and chatting any further, you switched your focus to the other one. You’ve ruined one side enough already, it was swollen and red while the other still looked pretty healthy. Wasn’t it time to abuse that spot too? Now using your hand to flick the previous one, while sipping on the other with your lips. Not long after he started making more sounds, resistance shredding entirely.

These noises were beautiful, absolutely stunning, they were like music to your ears. You listened closely while he whined and panted, feeling proud that you made him into the mess of a man. “HuuhH.. ha- hnng..! Wa-wait…” Something was strange, why did this feel so nice? Why was his heart racing so much, when it never happened with anyone but god? Not to mention how his body burned whenever your skin made contact, it tingled and felt giddily. Was it your charm, or because of the skillful touch of your hands? So many questions were going to be left unanswered, while his desire grew with each passing moment.

Suddenly you noticed something strange on your tongue, at the same time your finger seems to have touched a foreign liquid. “NghHhh…” Lucifer gasped as you pulled back, leaving his reddening nipples alone. His poor buds have been used and abused for so long, they were standing up all proud and hard. The same goes for the thing inside his pants, creating an obvious bulge between his legs. A dark spot formed where the tip of the tent was. You only stared at him, at his body, unable to comprehend the situation. What was that, you thought at first, then a bright smile crept onto your features. Was it perhaps what you thought it was?

The Blondie glanced at you a few times, before mumbling, “Why did you stop?” He couldn’t comprehend your actions, he thought everything was going alright, so why did you ruin the rhythm like this? There was no answer from your side, you remained silent. Right as he was about to ask again, you resumed your previous actions, flicking his nipples again which immediately yearned a yelp from the male. “Hmm-! UgGhh..” a watery and slightly milky substance dripped from his breasts onto your fingers. Exactly as you expected.

In the meantime, he was gripping the sheets as tightly as he could, to the point that his knuckles turned white. Surprise and amazement were written all over your face, he couldn’t quite fathom why you looked so excited, though before he got the chance to speak you basically answered him already, “Haha.. you are lactating, lucifer.” The words that came from your lips were foreign, it caused his heart to stand still for a second.

“Excuse me?” His pupils shrank, and he pulled such a silly and cute look of confusion as a response. Without further delay, you licked over his hardened nipples, and then another drop of milk stimulated your taste buds. “It’s delicious..!” You couldn’t help but compliment him, feeling overjoyed at this new discovery. Never have you ever experienced something astonishing as this, though if you had to be completely honest, it didn’t taste all that much.

Wait, hold up, explain- lactation? You mean him, lucifer, the good that fell from grace, was producing milk all this time? How his head spun, processing this information was too much for the inexperienced angel. Sure, he isn’t naive when it comes to intimate things, but he wasn’t this deep into it! Lucifer would have been longer lost in his thoughts if it weren’t for your rough treatment. Despite his inner turmoil you kept sucking and nibbling at him with a newfound fever, swallowing anything his body gave to you.

“Ahh…” the Blondie moaned, then proceeded to whine desperately, “Don’t be.. too rough..” it didn’t hurt, but it made him feel like he was on the brink of losing his sanity. All because of the weird pleasures and bliss he got out of this, he was reaching highs he never knew before. And you didn’t even touch him on his private parts, so why was he so sensitive?

“Is this how angel milk is made?” You asked him jokingly while rubbing his nipple in between your teeth, still playing with that poor body part of his. “NgGhhm..! Don’t ask- haaaa… stupid things..” God, his voice was so adorable it fuelled your want to ruin and bully him. All you wanted to do was to play with him until he didn’t have anything to offer anymore, until you sucked him dry. Just the thought of it was making you happy.

Pair that with the neutral but slightly sweet taste of his milk, you felt like you were in heaven. “I wish I had some tea to pair with your milk.” The bitterness of the tea would be compensated for with the sweet aftertaste of his milk. It would have been such a fine combination. His blush intensified at your comment, how do you always manage to come up with such unique ideas?

“Shall I request Buer or someone else to bring a cup?” This was only a teasing question, to provoke him. Yet to your surprise, he started crying and holding onto your sleeves. “No-.. don’t.” Tears akin to diamonds rolled down his cheeks, sparkling the entire time. Your heart jumped at his reaction. Like a deer caught in headlights, you couldn’t help but stare at him with a blank expression. Tears? Cries? You made the strongest being after god cry? What a satisfying feeling that was, you were captured by his beautiful, tears-ridden face.

Lucifer frowned and bit his bottom lip, embarrassed at his vulnerable state. Before he could wipe his tears with his sleeves, you kissed them away. Even you yourself didn’t know exactly why you did it. After all, this wasn’t because you couldn’t stand his crying face, because he looked beautiful while shedding those water droplets. Guess you just wanted a taste, to see if it was as delicious as his.. other fluids? You wanted to caress his face in that moment, to hold him and whisper all the dirty things you were going to do to him into his ear. This was similar to your experience on Christmas with his brothers, only ten times better.

How strange, he felt a certain kind of Deja vu at your tender touch. For one second, he could see the adoring caresses from his little brothers on him, hugging or holding his hand. Then he got reminded of when he first opened his eyes, when the love of god belonged only to him. “I want to taste all of you.” You whispered, pulling him out of his daydream again. On the other hand, you were almost shocked at how perverted your own words were. His sobbing quieted down slightly, and he looked away hesitantly. Lips trembled a little as a genuine, sad tear rolled down his chin.

“I’m sorry, that was too mean of me to say, to bring your subordinate into this as well.” You thought that was the reason why he was crying, so you quickly apologized. The blondie thought about your apology while you ate up his tears like it was a five-course meal, he clenched his eyes shut due to how close you were. “I’m alright.” He responded though the sobbing wouldn’t stop. Why? “..I hope that is the truth.” You eventually admitted, then caressed his face once again. If anything, you didn’t wish to hurt him.

After you resumed your earlier demonstrations and pinched his nipples, his sex twitched around, yearning to be freed. “Ah, it hurts.” Lucifer groaned loudly, his sharp teeth injured his own lips. “Is that all you feel?” You teased him. Tsk, asking something so obvious, you were playing games with him again, weren’t you?

“Be honest with me, Luci.” The sound of that nickname was weird, it brought forth unfamiliar sensations he had never experienced before. The angel still refused to elaborate further, since it was shameful for him. It would sound so weird if he admitted he liked the pain, he didn’t want to make a fool of himself. That stupid pride of his…

All that silence was getting too annoying, you wanted his opinion. In the end, you nibbled on his buds again, stopping only to say, “I can see that you are enjoying yourself, the wet spot on your pants is growing.” A yelp slipped from him, finally a shocked expression was spread across his features. “Ugh.. why now?!” He seemed to condemn his own body, feeling ashamed at this vulgar sight of his. “Look, everything down here is so sticky.” You said while your hand crept lower, to grobe him through his pants. “MhhHm, is— is that so?” Huh, was he trying to play the naive card now?

You held your now defiled hand right in front of his face as if to prove a point. “Exactly! Look right here.” A perverse-looking liquid stuck to your fingers and palm, it made a squelching sound whenever you clenched your hand. “Ah.. ah.” He whined, to think that he produced this filthy thing..! He turned his head to the side, to avoid looking at it. Poor Birdy hasn’t been this ashamed for centuries.

When you noticed his embarrassment, you grinned again, then brought your hand to his chest. Then you smeared all of it onto his chest, causing everything to get all wet and sticky. “HnHhn..!? Did you just-..?” Lucifer turned around as soon as he felt his own precum touching his otherwise pure and divine skin.

If that wasn’t enough already, you had to go back to playing with his already exhausted nipples. On top of that, you were cleaning up the mess you made on his chest, swallowing his slightly bitter precum along with his milk. “It’s a pretty good substitute for tea, heh.” You commented, then stuck your tongue out for him to see the two fluids mixed together, along with your spit as well.

His mouth hung agape, half due to shock, half because he couldn’t restrain his groans. You took that opportunity to kiss him and stick your tongue inside his mouth, swirling it around to make him taste himself. “MhmhGnnH..!! NHhH- uhHhnnn..♡♥︎~!” All he could do was moan into your mouth or choke out broken whimpers as more tears decorated the scene. Your hands didn’t stay useless and kept fiddling with his chest. This was too much stimulation for the poor angel, he literally saw stars as the mix of bitter and sweet danced across his tastebuds. The way you kissed him was rough yet pleasant, bringing forth an ecstasy completely new to him.

When you shoved your wet muscle down his throat, causing him to gag, a huge wave of pleasure coursed through his body. He shivered so much, shaking to the point you were almost worried. At the same time, his eyes rolled to the back of his skull as all of his moans got muffled by you. The only sounds slipping through were meek whimpers, barely audible to the human ears.

After you were done and you pulled back, granting him the privilege to breathe again, he looked like a total mess. Drool was hanging out of his lips, as well as something milkier in color. Strings of saliva were connecting his swollen lips with yours. A dazed look in his eyes, as if he didn’t bear a single thought behind those melting pupils. His face was covered in a layer of sweat and tears, his already messy locks stuck to his body like gum. You called out his name, saying it in a sweet and innocent tone. He didn’t answer you, only staring into the space like a used doll. Was he perhaps in sub-space? How adorable.

Your gaze coincidentally landed on his crotch, noticing how some of the white fluids were seeping through his trousers. Ah, so that’s what happened. This little angel here came untouched huh? Amazing, simply stunning. That sadistic smirk of yours returned as you yanked off his pants, holding back your laughter at the mess he made. You just had to taunt him for that, snarking at him, “Aww, did the big Lucifer cum from some touching and kissing? How humiliating, don’t you agree?” No answers, just a quiet whine did escape his throat. Good, he can still hear you.

“Such a mess you made, tsk tsk tsk.” You clicked your tongue, sarcastically shaking your head. After that you whispered sickly sweet, “But it’s alright, you will clean it up afterwards anyway, isn’t that so, Luci?”

Tags: @shianarou @ghostiegirl56 @thisisnotangel @ghostgoosygoose @aghrentroplayer @i-dont-fooken-know @chuuya-brainrot @allyfoxglove @thigh-o-saur @fallenthemisticalyingyang @fem-dom-roze

Nini!rant 2.0:

Men can lactate too, right. That’s something we’ve known for a long time. But only about 1/8 of men have the necessary requirements to produce milk. Because producing milk has something to do with the hormone levels, and it’s unusual for men to have enough to actually produce milk. Even then, it’d be a more watery consistence compared to the milk of a woman.

Anyway, to get a man to lactate isn’t as easy as it is in fiction. You’ll have to basically suck on the nipple, with a vacuum or mouth, for weeks (depends on the individual) for it to start producing small amounts of milk. Or in other words, constant nipple stimulation.

Another way is to take medicine promoting the needed hormones, or to starve oneself -> during World War II there has been records of prisoners lactating after starving and finally being fed. Many speculate it’s because of the dropping hormone levels due to starvation and the sudden rising once they receive food again. That’s why their bodies produced milk. (Pls don’t ask)

There are also cases where all this doesn’t apply and a guy lactates for no reason… then it’d be in your best interest to check it out with a doctor. It could be breast cancer after all, and this doesn’t only apply to guys, if anyone just suddenly leaks milk for no reason it could be signs of cancer.

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r0-boat · 10 months ago

Text

Sitri x AFAB!reader x Amy

They both fuck you

Cw: breeding, slight baby trapping(Sitri saying questionable things), porn with little plot, Threesome, spit roasting, arguing, slight choking.

Amy is calm and Sitri fucking loses it lol

You don't remember how you got here... Your poor cunt getting brutally fucked by a devil while the other devil who is arguing with him is stuffed in your mouth.

Wait...Yes you do.

You need a devil's energy, and since everyone in Gehenna Who could help you was in a meeting, You stumbled around your vision, getting dizzy as your breath grew shallow, trying to find anyone in the castle. Anyone! You are so desperate. You could even feel The heat pulling between your legs as your body screamed at you to find someone.

Trying to focus on steadying yourself, You didn't notice the big figure in front of you. You ran face first into him, You swore you feel your head bounce off his chest.

"HEY! WATCH WHERE YOU'RE FUCKING GOING!" The man snaps, but his eyes widen when he recognizes you. "Oh! I-I'm sorry. Please, you have to be more careful." His voice went from loud and demanding to soft and gentle in seconds.

But you don't answer as you try to keep your body from passing out. You cling onto the devil, your fingers digging into his white uniform that was half hazard tossed on his otherwise bare chest. You could almost recognize his voice, but you were too weak to think about it. The demon caught you in his arms as you almost collapsed.

"Oh fuck! h-hey take it easy! Are you okay?"

He asks as if you didn't just almost pass out.

"Oh yeah, you must be Solomon's child... Oh fuck. Shit! You don't look so good!"In preparation for scenarios like this, Satan informed everyone of your condition just in case you happen to be out and about and you need emergency devil's energy. Amy knew how urgent this was because he knew how important you were to Satan.

"So I just gotta put my dick in you, and you'll feel better? Okay, piece of cake."Amy muttered because he lifted you into his arms. He left papers he had prepared for the meeting scattered on the floor. Amy ran down the hall as fast as he could, cradling you in his arms in the first room he found clean and vacant. He practically kicks down the door, laying you on the couch.

Immediately, he begins tripping his clothing. He wasn't hard, not yet, But he did feel a little buzz looking at you, You're flushed face, and you're rising and falling chest, Your clothes that hugged your body just right yet leaving some for the imagination. Fuck... The two of you have interacted much, Not as much as Leraye or Piemon or even damn Sitri. But he knew why Satan liked you. Oh, he could absolutely see it.

His hands gently caress you as if stalling to rip your clothes off. He could feel heat flush to his face. You open your eyes seeing a familiar figure. "Amy, please... I need you so bad," You whisper in a breathy tone that stole his away. He nods his big hands beginning to strip you slowly.

It's been so long since he had been with anyone, let alone another human. They had different parts than the one he used to sleep with. Then a penis they had folds that looked rather inviting and quite tasty...

His body moved on his own as he left your legs up to run his tongue across your cunt. One lick, and you buck your hips, finally feeling some relief you desperately craved, but it's not enough. "Please, more!" You whine. Your fingers dig into Amy's locks, pulling him into you, which he happily lets you. His tongue slides inside your folds, and his eyes roll back at your taste.

'So sweet... So good...'

It wasn't before long that your juices so his tongue. He holds you gently yet firmly as he slurps at your gushing. He didn't even realize how close you were until your sweet juices flooded his mouth. His horns and cock were drooling, and his mouth was glistening with your cum. He licked his lips as he crawled on top of you. His lips meet yours as you taste yourself on his tongue.

"Tell me if it hurts. Please," He says. You nod. Your hands dig into his shoulders, bracing yourself as you watch his huge cock slowly begin to press itself inside you. When his cock glides inside you, you watch as Amy tilts his head up, His tongue rolling out at the tight squeeze. You wrap your legs around him, and being inside you becomes torture for Amy, but still, he is waiting, scared that if you move too soon, he might break you. But you are not having it. You needed his 'devil's energy' and you needed it now. "Move Amy!" You demanded, which startled him, but he nodded, moving his hips slowly at first until he started picking up the pace, a nice sensual, deep pace, each thrust going so deep, brushing against every spot, making your toes curl. It had been so long for the devil. He was a lot closer than he thought he would be. He tries to hold on and make you come first before he explodes inside you. He licks, sucks, and bites your neck, his hands running over and touching, manhandling your body, His rough hands scraping against your soft skin. You tighten around him and come on his cock, feeling your tight squeeze. He gives in, filling your cunt up with delicious devil's energy.

Amy holds you to his chest. He smiles at you. He opens his mouth to speak, but the door bursts again. A very familiar blue-haired devil stares at the both of you... In his office... On his couch, naked, smelling of sex. Hearing your heart pounding in your chest, he couldn't tell if it was from sex or the fact he caught the both of you.

"Explain." A single word falls from his lips, his tone just as icy as his gaze as he glares down at the both of you. Amy glared back, cradling you in his arms as if protecting you. Finally, coming back to your senses You fully recognize where you are and what's going on You take a deep breath, and your eyes widen, stunned for a moment. You stutter, trying to form words, but Amy cuts you off. "I found them in the hallway They looked awful and they needed devil's energy if I wasn't there they would have died."

Sitri gives you an unreadable expression. His eyes widen, but his face is blank. He looks at both you and Amy. You could steal your heart, jumping out of your chest as you see Sitri clutching his fist and his fingers digging into his palms.

"Solomon."

He smiles, saying his nickname for you in a sing-song tone. The click of his shoes fills your ears as he steps closer.

"You want more right?"

In one hand movement he rips Amy off of you throwing him to the ground.

"Because I can't imagine a devil-like this satisfying you!" He growls, ripping his clothes off; his eyes are wild with burning anger, lust, and hot jealousy. Amy could only watch from the floor as Sitri grabbed you roughly, pinning you to the arm of the couch. You let out a loud, sharp squeal feeling his cock enter you in one thrust. Amy watched your eyes roll back as Sitri's pace was immediately rough and fast.

"This is how you satisfy Solomon!" He hisses through his teeth. "I know them better than anyone to know that they like being fucked like a cheap whore!"

Amy wanted to help you. His heart raced at how rough his rival was treating you, but at the same time, he didn't want to be left in the dust. He didn't want to sit by and watch as Sitri took you from him. And with your mouth occupied, drooling as you stare down at him, licking your lips, how could he not give you what you're so desperately asking?

He could feel his cock already hardening once again as he stood up. Your eyes light up as his dick dangles in front of your face. You open your mouth obediently; Amy nuzzles his fingers in your hair as he slowly pushes his dick in your mouth.

Sitri was quick to notice. "That's why you'll never satisfy them like I do, too gentle, too soft! You're lucky that I'm letting your diseased dick even near them!"

Your eyes flash a little bit as you feel Amy's cock twitch in your mouth as Amy growls back. "You're too rough! If this is how you treat them, then you'll be the reason why they go back to Earth!"

Sitri lets out a dark, crazed chuckle that makes you clench. "They will not leave me. I will not let them; I will trap them here any means necessary-!"

He leans down, whispering into your ear, wrapping a hand around your throat, feeling your pulse along with the stretch of your throat around Amy's shaft. "If I have to breed you, pump you full of my spawn, then so be it!"

Your eyes roll back. His breath tickled your ear as he whispered something so heinous, so dark, so delicious You go over the edge, and coming on his cock, your orgasm rips through you as you moan on Amy's dick. You milk Sitri as he explodes inside your pussy. His hips are still deep inside you, making sure you take every last drop of his seed.

And Amy feels your throat vibrate against his cock. He cums, sinking his teeth into his lips, trying failing not to moan too loud as he grinds into your face. You eagerly drink up every last drop of warm demonic seed going into your belly.

Three of you collapse, shuffling to the couch to demons on either side, their hands on your thighs, touching you and snuggling against your body.

For the first time, they did not argue; they just sat there enjoying your company, too tired to say anything negative towards each other.

#smut #whb #wihib #what in hell is bad #whb amy #whb sitri #what in hell is bad x reader #no beta we die like men #I wrote this at 1:00 a.m. let's fucking go

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aspiringtrashpanda · 1 year ago

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So...

youtube

🔥FALL IN LOVE (IN HELL) - THE BROTHERS🔥

Are you an Obey Me! fan? Do you desperately want to share your love for the boys with your friends who aren't into this sorta thing? Do you lie awake at night wondering who your pals would like best? THEN THIS VIDEO IS FOR YOU!

(I mean, good luck convincing your non-OM friends to sit through this whole thing + part 2 for the Dateables... And they probably won't get the funnies without further explanation... but HEY, I TRIED TO MAKE IT KINDA NEWBIE FRIENDLY)

‼️SOME SPOILERS IN VID BUT NOTHING THAT ISN'T ON THE WIKI‼️

I thought it would be entertaining to put together a presentation on what dating each romanceable character in Obey Me! would be like. I can not stress enough that this is 95% personal opinion and interpretation. I'm truly sorry if I missed points or slandered your fave (I promise it's unintentional, I love them all except lucifer fuck you lucifer I understand his appeal I just don't like him i'm sorry)

But I mean, let's make this stupid video a fun, SAFE space to talk about what dating these ✨idiots✨ would be like. ALSO I OWN NONE OF THE VISUALS, AUDIO OR VIDEO! THANK YOU SOLMARE! SOLMARE I LOVE YOU! THIS IS UNLISTED AND JUST FOR FUN PLEASE DON'T COME AT ME.

Also I couldn't find the remix of Read My Heart instrumental and the piano did not pass the vibe check so Satan got Passion. I love RMH, don't get me wrong, but it was too drastic a tone shift.

#obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me poll #please interact I love you

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proship-culture-is · 3 months ago

Note

proship culture is seeing a long post on why you can't ship a decently popular ship because its "actually pretty unhealthy" or "see each other as found family" and thinking "bold of you to assume you can tell me what to do because last i checked even hell can't stop my shipping".

☆

#i discuss my ships over tea with satan #proship culture is...#op is a proshipper #proshipper safe #proshippers are valid #proshippers please interact #proship

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shellshocklove · 11 months ago

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brat two: i might say something stupid | joel miller

pairing/AU: joel miller x brat!female!reader – no outbreak

summary: joel is continuing to have a brat summer.

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! age gap, enemies to lovers vibes? swearing, use of pet names, smut, brat taming?, dom!joel, some daddy!joel, manhandling, some light bondage, a little exhibitionism? a little dacryphilia, praise, degradation (whore, slut), some sub space territory, edging, creampie, unprotected sex (don’t do it!!), no use of y/n

a/n: ok, so a part two to this!! i’m giving reader a backstory in this so if that’s not your cup of tea and prefer the reader to be a blank slate, then maybe this isn’t for you. as always i wanna give a little shout out to @dustydaddyyy for always helping me when i'm stuck! <3 i know it's demure fall soon, but there's still some brat summer left, so happy reading! 💚

main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 this account stands with palestine. the creator of tlou is a zionist, and the second game is largly based on israel/palestine. please, everyone who interacts, educate yourself about the genocide happening right now, and support/donate.

Joel.

Joel. Joel. Joel.

Joel Miller.

Miller. Miller. Miller.

The cicadas rattled in the breeze coming through the window of your childhood bedroom. It was hotter than Satan’s ass crack, and sleep couldn’t pull you under. The hem seam of your ratty sleep shirt was fraying, and you couldn’t keep yourself from picking at it – pulling at the threat.

Pull, pull, pull.

Joel Miller. That was his name on the mailbox, but he’d only told you Joel. Just Joel.

Yes, sir. Please, Daddy. Bye, Joel.

With a huff you sat up, your back resting against the headboard as your eyes rolled over the darkened room. The shadows shapeshifted before your eyes like ghosts, and you wondered if you deserved to be haunted.

It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours.

You could still feel the phantom stretch of his cock inside you, and your cheeks were sore from his spanking, but it was nothing compared to your thoughts plagued by him.

God, you felt crazy, like a little girl with a school crush on the teacher.

Except, you didn’t have crushes, didn’t like, or fall in love, with anyone. People had a crush on you, people fell in love with you, people liked you.

Biting down on the soft skin of the inside of your cheek, you ripped away the thin blanket covering your bottom half as your feet touched the cold hardwood floor.

The switch on your bedside lamp clicked as the warm glow seemed to scare the ghosts away. The ratty shirt fell over your knees as you walked across the room and flung open the door. A triangle of light cut the hardwood floor in two as you made your way down the hall and stairs. The slapping of bare feet against wood echoed against the tall ceiling, and eyes followed you from the faces on the wall.

Stepping into the kitchen, you were alone. Pierre had left right after dinner, and Eva had left early with her daughter. You didn’t like to keep them longer than needed, especially on weekends. Your father would pay them the same, anyway – and it was just you here.

You hated the other house. It was no place to live, it was a place of business, for politics. You hated this house too, but for other reasons – too many memories, plastered on smiles and lies. The dentist had told you to start wearing a night guard when they divorced, but you’d stopped wearing it when you went to college.

Grabbing a glass from the cupboard, you made your way over to the fridge. Your whole body felt heavy, your head rolling off your shoulder when something caught your eye in the backyard.

It was gone.

“Shit.”

An ice cube escaped the rim of your glass and split into a thousand pieces on the tiled floor. You pulled your glass from the dispenser in the fridge, and hunkered down, ice melting between your fingers.

With a sigh you watched the splintered ice vanish, dripping in an erratic rhythm that added to the small puddle on the floor. You didn’t want to feel like this. Why were you feeling like this?

You left the glass of ice on the counter– let the ice melt on the floor and escaped through the sliding doors into the backyard. The sky was bright with light pollution over the trees, and everywhere the buzzing of cicadas filled your ears. With a sigh, you fell into one of the chairs, the cushion stiff against your back as your eyes landed on the large oak. You trailed your eyes over the branches, the one’s you’d known every crook and cranny of when you were a child.

It was gone.

The small crooked, and probably dangerous, treehouse where you’d spent so many hours hiding away as a child. Not that they ever noticed, your parents, too busy yelling at each other to see where their daughter had vanished.

Of course it was gone.

Gone, like the happy little girl you’d used to be. And what had taken her place? A party girl? A mess of a woman hiding behind the disguise of a sharp tongue?

Jesus Christ, you needed to get your shit together. Distract yourself– pull yourself away from all the feelings you couldn’t control.

Shifting uncomfortably, you fished your phone from where it had drowned in the cushions. The bright blue light burned your eyes as you scrolled, pulling you from everything real to unreality. Plastered on smiles and perfect bodies, sunny beaches, and aesthetic photos. You handed out hearts like they cost nothing, and pretended you hadn’t seen your DMs.

Still, you couldn’t shake the thought of him. The way the weight of him had felt over you, how he’d spoken, voice rough and commanding, but still playful. It was like you were guided by a puppeteer when your thumb hovered over the google search.

Joel Miller.

You didn’t know what you’d expected – Joel Miller wasn’t a one in a million name, and now you were scrolling through every Joel Miller famous enough to throne at the top of a google search. But, you weren’t going to give up that easily. You moved on to Facebook. He was old, he’d have to have one.

Bingo.

There he was. A few years younger, his hair a little messy, smiling bright. His profile was private, and you sure as hell weren’t sending him a friend request, but something inside you screamed to know more about the man you’d let come inside you less than twenty-four hours ago.

You tried to click your way through his pictures, but there was nothing to see. Next, you tried the about page: Lives in Austin, Texas (this you obviously already knew)… born September 26th… Male… Single… You felt a smile tug at the corners of your mouth, as you continued to scroll... Works for Miller Contracting… And finally, his family: Tommy Miller.

His brother’s profile needed a lesson in internet safety. This man shared everything and all for strangers to see. You flicked through photos of neighborhood cookouts, date nights with his soon to be wife, the same graduation pictures of a girl you’d seen hanging on Joel’s wall.

‘Proudest uncle in the world! Congratulations, Sarah Miller! 😄❤️ The smartest and most talented Miller! 🙌’

Your finger hovered over his daughter’s name, curiosity gnawing at your insides. Shaking your head, you clicked away. You could own up to stalking his Facebook, and his brother had basically invited you to stalk, but his daughter? It felt like crossing a line you couldn’t come back from. Back on Tommy’s profile you noticed he also worked for Miller Contracting.

A family business.

Continuing your research, you clicked through to the business’ profile. The profile looked to be run by Tommy, with frequent updates on projects they’d worked on, from renovations to outdoor landscaping, to new condos, Miller Contracting had a broad resume, but the contact person was set to one Joel Miller.

A thought tickled at the back of your brain then, and your gaze flicked from your phone to the low-lit backyard. A smile you couldn’t fight back pulled at your lips.

The sun beat down on the men as they worked. A bright yellow dot in the clear blue sky. From your bedroom window you watched them, how they’d turned the previous green patch of grass into a deep moldy hole.

Convincing your father had been easy enough; he’d shrugged, and given his default answer to pretty much any request you had, which was a bored ‘Yes, sweetie.’ For years now, the rule of thumb with your dad had been: as long as you didn’t bother him and his busy schedule, he didn’t care what you did.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. As long as nothing you did reflected badly on him, and especially on the carefully curated image of ‘loving family man’ his constituents seemed to love so much, he didn’t care. The Governor of Texas couldn’t have his daughter’s bad decisions cost him votes, after all.

Your mother had always said it, always complained over her extra dry martinis, that your father only cared about one thing in his life, and it wasn’t his family. Your face soured as you thought about it.

Votes.

Your mother hadn’t been right about a lot of things in your life, but she had been right about this. Votes, and power. That’s all he’d ever cared about. It had been like that ever since you were a child, and over time, you’d learned to exploit that fact like you would a weakness, holding it as leverage over his head if he ever told you no, which he naturally never did. The agreement was silent, but clear as day; as long as you got your way, you would cater to his image, and behave.

And you did; showed up when needed with a smile that hurt your cheeks, kept up his image, and in turn you got your way.

The swimming pool was just another ask in a long line of wishes. He’d questioned you at first, ‘You want to build a pool in the middle of summer?’ The pool you didn’t care for, it was the men who’d build it. You’d given your father your look, the one where you tipped your head down slightly, bit your bottom lip and looked at him with doe-y eyes. He’d had a landscape architect draw up something for you by the end of the week, and by Monday he’d had the city approve the changes to the premises. He’d given you a rise of his eyebrow when you’d pitched the contractors you wanted for the job, but nevertheless, he’d put his assistant on the job right away.

They’d arrived bright and early this morning, their shouts over loud machines pulling you from your slumber. You’d pulled your pillow over your head, dying to catch some more Z’s, it was summer break after all, but the pull of seeing him again was too strong. The excitement bubbled in your chest, and a satisfied grin spread across your face when you’d realized your plan had worked.

Joel Miller was in your backyard, standing under the oak tree with his hands on his hip, as he carefully watched over his crew. His work clothes fit him just as well as the t-shirt and jeans he’d worn at the club, but he looked less polished– his hair messier with a carpenter’s pencil tucked behind his hair. Your eyes trailed over him from where you watched from the house, how he moved about the site, helped his men when needed, evaluating every step, studying the drawings carefully as he ordered his men around with the same authority you’d come to know him for after the night you’d spent together.

If all of this went well, you’d have him again.

“Looking good, guys! But it’s a bit loud,” you shouted over the excavator, one arm raised to shade your eyes from the sun from where you stood at the edge of the veranda.

You watched how the men milled about, squinting up from their work at you. Their gazes lingered over your body, they weren’t subtle about it, and the little outfit you’d thrown together seemed to do its job, a short summer skirt with a matching top– it was hot out in the Texan sun, and you wanted to make it hotter.

“We’ve been disturbin’ your beauty sleep, princess?” One of the men spoke up, and your eyes narrowed at his use of the pet name. His grin was too confident, hiding his laugh between his teeth. You set your eyes on him and gave him a pitying look.

“Yes, actually! It’s hard work looking this good, but you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” you snapped back. A sound of snickering laughs from the men at their coworker’s expense could be heard through the yard, and you felt a saccharine smile cover your face.

“So, who’s in charge of all this noise anyway?” you asked, voice bored, when the laughter had died.

“You gotta take that up with Miller,” another one of the men replied, your first victim quickly forced into silence.

“And who’s that?”

The man nodded his head in the direction of the man you’d weaved into your web. He didn’t look impressed where he stood under the shade of the oak tree watching you. He had his arms crossed over his broad chest, the fabric stretching around his biceps, as he shook his head at you as you walked closer.

“Mr. Miller.” You couldn’t help the pleased smile spreading across your face.

Clasping your hands loosely behind your back as you pushed your chest out innocently, you slowly stepped closer, his jaw clenching tighter with each of your careful steps through the grass.

“We’ll try ‘nd keep the noise down f’ya until nine am, Miss, but after that we’ll need to use our bigger tools if ya want this done before the summer ends.” He kept his voice steady and professional, his southern drawl like soft silk in your ears. His eyes never left your face once, even with the deep neckline of your top.

Standing a little too close to him, to be considered appropriate for someone who you’d just met, your teeth caught on your bottom lip coquettishly. “Oh, I want you to use your big tool that’s for sure.” It sounded ridiculous, and you had to bite down harder to keep from bursting out laughing.

Joel didn’t seem to think it was funny. Something flickered in his gaze, before it hardened, eyes boring into yours as he asked you through his teeth, “Whatchu think your doin’, huh?”

You shrugged playfully with an exaggerated sigh, “I don’t know, Mr. Miller, isn’t it obvious?”

“Oh, ‘s obvious alright.” He shook his head in disbelief, and looked away for a beat, before his eyes found yours again.

“It’s so hot out this summer,” you continued your jest with a hooked finger along the hem of your shirt, tugging at it, “I just wanted something to cool down.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, “‘m sure you did.”

Continuing your game, you widened your eyes in an attempt at feigning innocence, “But I don’t mind breaking a sweat if need be.”

“’nd how do you like to break a sweat, princess?” he asked, putting pressure on the nick name his men had given you.

“Oh, I think you already know that, Mr. Miller.”

Joel’s eyes hardened as the flirty words fell from your lips. Shifting his weight from one leg to the other he raised a finger at you. “Listen’ up, brat,” he told you in a lowered voice, “Ain’t nothin’ more happenin’ between us, you understand? It’s inappropriate– you’re my employer and I don’t do that shit.”

It was almost too easy. Biting back a smile, your thoughts wandered back to the last time you’d had him like this; riled up, and willing to put you in your place. A slick wetness coated the gusset of your panties, already, at the thought.

“I understand, Daddy.”

With a sigh Joel turned away from you with a shake of his head, muttering under his breath, “You’re ridiculous.”

You were, he was right. But it was so fun.

A smirk tugged at your lips when he turned back to look at you. He wanted to say something, you could see it in the way he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his hands fidgeting on his hip, but he changed his mind as he shook his head again.

Victory had never tasted so sweet.

All week you’d played a game of cat and mouse with Joel. One day you’d ignored him completely as you flirted with the crew, exaggerating your laugh at jokes that weren’t even close to being funny, and touching too many sweaty biceps to count. Then the next you never left him alone, buzzing like a mosquito in his ear asking all kinds of silly questions, slipping in an innuendo or two, and teasing him for a reaction other than an annoyed grunt.

He’d have to break at some point. You could see it in his eyes. He might play the annoyance up, but there was a softness to the way he looked at you. It was there– you weren’t making that up!

The sound of the juicer buzzed in your ear as you chewed on your lip. Your hand rested lazily on the kitchen counter as you stole glances out the window as you waited. Pierre was quiet as he worked, only throwing a curious glance your way every once in a while, as he mixed together the jug of lemonade you’d requested.

The day had scorched since early morning, and you’d had no choice but to throw on your skimpiest bikini. A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth at the thought – well, there was more appropriate outfits for this heat, but you didn’t want that.

What you wanted, was to get your brains fucked out.

You’d played all your cards right, but nothing had seemed to make Joel simmer over with a need to put you in your place again. In the need for a new plan, you hoped showing off your body to all his men while serving them a nice cold glass of lemonade would do the trick, hoping he’d get jealous. The pool had already started to take shape, and your time was starting to run out.

“Here you go, ma belle,” Pierre slid a newly filled jug of ice-cold lemonade down towards you over the marble, “let me know if you need anything else, yes?”

Nodding your head in gratitude, you lifted the jug onto the tray you’d prepared, “Merci, Pierre.”

Slipping carefully through the sliding doors you made your way across the veranda to place the tray on the outdoor dining table. The tray was heavy, and you moved fast to make sure you didn’t spill the lemonade all over yourself.

“HEY BOYS!” you shouted over the sound of the heavy machinery, waving a lazy hand at them, beckoning them closer like a siren. “I hope you’re thirsty,” you laughed.

A low whistle could be heard as they came closer. Eyes lingering on your skin, trailing over your body as they gathered around the table, helping themselves to the citrus-y delight.

“If this ain’t the sweetest thing I think a client has ever done for us,” Tommy smiled as he helped himself to a glass, “You mind if I take a picture of this setup? To post on our Facebook page.”

You shook your head, “Take as many pictures as you like,” you told him, but your eyes wandered.

Joel had hung back, walking slower behind the rest of his crew, and was finally walking up the couple steps to the veranda. His work boots echoed over the planks as he walked closer. He didn’t seem happy as he locked eyes with you, his eyes quickly rolling over your almost naked body.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, you poured him a glass; the ice cubes splashing as you poured, cold drops splashing and coating the skin of your exposed chest. Joel pretended he didn’t notice, but you saw the way he looked at you. You’d seen that look so many times, eyes hungry and desperate for something they knew they couldn’t have, shouldn’t have. The only difference this time was that you’d let Joel do whatever he wanted to you.

“Here, Mr. Miller–”

Your voice was cut off by the sound of a phone ringing at the loudest volume. The suddenness of the sound made you jump, spilling the glass of Joel’s lemonade all down your hand and chest.

“Yellow,” you heard Tommy shout into his phone.

“Oh, oops,” you said, your voice laced in an innocent laugh. Drops of sticky lemonade ran down your body, darkening the fabric of your bikini, and making your skin shine with wetness under the Austin sun.

Looking up from your body at Joel, your teeth caught on your bottom lip at the way his jaw clenched, his eyes running down your body like they were drops of lemonade. You laughed again, sugary sweet as you made a show of placing the glass on the table, spreading your arms like you didn’t know what to do.

“Y’need to be more careful, sweetheart,” Joel mumbled as he fumbled for some napkins from your tray.

You shook your head at him when he handed them to you, instead you ran a finger up your chest, catching the drops and sucking the cool drink from your fingers, slowly, licking up every drop. It was bold, and you couldn’t contain your giggle when Joel’s eyes widened at you. It was quick, the wave of shock at how blatantly you’d flirt with him like this, before it crashed into the shore with a stern look. The other men had to be looking too, you could feel the way their eyes burned your skin, but you only cared about one man’s warm eyes on your body.

“That was so clumsy of me,” you giggled, the laugh forced and too sweet, but it didn’t matter, Joel didn’t buy it either way.

“’m sorry ‘bout that,” Tommy’s voice boomed, as he hung up the phone, “It was the missus– or soon to be missus.”

“Oh, you’re getting married?” you queried, the lemonade soaking you forgotten now that the moment had been ruined. Beside you, Joel picked up the glass you’d tried to hand him, drying the sides with the superfluous napkins.

“Yes, ma’am,” Tommy beamed, “tyin’ the knot this Saturday in fact.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” you smiled, an idea popping up in the back of your head, “Congratulations!”

“Thank you, thank you,” he beamed, taking a big gulp of the lemonade.

“So…” You stepped closer to Tommy, leaning your hand against the table. Joel’s eyes followed you, you could feel it, so you sneakily popped your hips out, giving him a nice view of your ass. “What’s the plan? Big church wedding?”

Tommy laughed, “Don’t know ‘bout big– we’re doin’ one of those barn weddings, you know? Out on a ranch and everythin’, they got it all on those big ranches nowadays.”

“Really?” you smiled, “Which ranch?”

“Oh, it ain’t far! Only ‘bout a fifteen-twenty minutes’ drive from downtown. Pecan Grove Ranch it’s called. They even got these nice cabins on site, for accommodation– which is nice for close family and those who’ve traveled far. You know, Maria’s family ain’t from Texas, so we got lots of folks flyin’ in.”

“Is that her name? Maria?” you asked. The way Tommy’s face lit up when you mentioned her name made your heart squeeze.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “love of my life she is!”

“I need to talk to you.” Joel cut your conversation off while his hand snaked its way around your upper arm, tugging you lightly towards him. When you turned your head to look at him, one eyebrow raised, his face shifted into a deep frown. “’s ‘bout the tiles,” he grumbled.

A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. Finally.

You excused yourself to Tommy, and let Joel drag you with him. Throwing your head back you watched how the rest of the crew enjoyed their small break in the shade sipping on Pierre’s lemonade.

Joel crossed the yard in big steps, making a beeline for the shed tucked away in the back corner of the yard. He pulled at the door harshly, like it couldn’t happen fast enough, and pushed you inside. The door to the shed slammed shut behind him and covered you both in a cool darkness. Your eyes relaxed as you adjusted from the bright daylight to the dim lighting – the only light coming through a small window almost completely overgrown with climbing vines. Joel’s grip around your arm loosened as he pushed you deeper inside.

Taking small steps, you looked around, eyes scanning over the room as a thought of how you couldn’t remember the last time you’d stepped a foot inside the shed crossed your mind. It was hidden away in the corner of the garden, overgrown in a tasteful way, like how you’d see in garden magazines. These days the only person who used it was the gardener, if the miscellaneous tools and garden machines were to be believed.

“Put your hands on the table,” Joel ordered, his voice a low hum.

Outside you could still hear the shouts of his men, laughter, as they lounged about on their break. Every one of his men had seen you step into the shed together, and the thought sent an electric bubbling feeling straight to your cunt.

“Y'got cotton in those ears, girl? Put your hands on the table.”

A shiver traveled through your body, and you had to bite down on your lip to hold back your smile. Finally, finally, finally. With your back turned to him, you shook your head slowly, daring him to put you in your place again.

And Joel took the bait.

His rough hand slid over your waist as he stepped closer. He let it glide across your exposed skin, the dried lemonade sticky as he teased you. His rough hand slid upwards, hooking a finger under your bikini strap, slowly, pulling at it before he unhooked it, letting it fall to the concrete floor.

“Aren’t you gonna behave, princess?” he spat out the new nickname. “Didn’t I teach ya last time what happens when you ain’t a good girl f’me?” The low bass of his voice ghosted over your ear and had your blood buzzing under your skin.

His rough hands continued to explore you, gentle touches over your skin, getting you worked up, but never where you wanted his hands the most. When he pressed himself against you, letting you feel the hard shape of him through his work pants, you let your head fall against his shoulder with a content sigh.

“No, Daddy,” you shook your head.

Joel couldn’t hold back his groan at that word. The gentle hands who’d explored your body, tightened across your chest, pressing you tight into his chest as he bucked his hips harshly into your ass.

“I think I did,” he spoke into your ear, “broke that pretty brain on my cock, didn’t I, and now that greedy cunt wants more, ain’t that right? Can’t get enough of this big cock?”

A breathy gasp escaped you when he bucked his hips against you again, and you shook your head.

“That’s what I thought.”

The speed at which he moved almost gave you a whiplash. He pushed you against the table along the wall, your hands coming down to brace yourself as he pressed your chest down and put your ass, covered only by your skimpy bikini bottoms, on display for him.

“Such a slut for cock she can’t be a big girl and ask for it– no, princess, you’re so desperate for it, you make me come all the way to your rich daddy’s house, bring my crew and everythin’ just so I’ll fuck you again.”

Joel laughed and you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together. “That’s ‘nother level of desperate, ain’t it?”

You felt a heat spread across your face at his degradation, but it just turned you on more, and Joel knew it. He trailed a finger down between your cheeks, pressing down to feel how you’d soiled your bikini bottoms in your arousal.

“But that’s just what you are, aren’t you? A desperate whore dyin’ to get fucked?”

The hand between your legs vanished, and you braced yourself for a spanking, holding your breath as the excitement grew, but the slap of his rough hand never came. Instead, he unhooked a rope off the peg board in front of you.

You resisted a little when he grabbed your hands, slipping your hands from his grip playfully, your face turned to watch how his face grew sterner. The tired, disappointed sigh it earned you made you smile.

Gripping both your hands tightly, he crossed one wrist over the other before he tied them together at the small of your back, and you let it happen. Under your skin, the anticipation buzzed. With nothing to help you brace yourself, the hard surface of the table pressed harshly against your naked skin.

“Hey,” Joel’s voice was suddenly gentle as he cupped your face and turned you to face him, “you remember our rules?”

A small ache stung in your heart. Our.

You nodded, “I say ‘red’ or pinch you if I want you to stop.”

A pleased grin spread across his face as he tapped at your cheek gently, “That’s a good girl, baby.”

His hand slid down your body, from your face down your neck, from your neck over your shoulder, and then from your shoulder down your naked back. “How’s this?” he asked, hooking a finger under the rope, “Not too tight?”

You shook your head, or tried to, with the way your cheek was mushed against the table.

“Words, princess, need to hear ya say it f’me.”

The softness in his voice when the pet name left his lips, made a fluttering feeling bubble in your core, and it was hard to fight the grin from pulling at your lips.

“Am I your princess now?” you asked with fluttering eyelashes, “I thought I was your desperate slut?”

Behind you, you could hear Joel let out a deep sigh. A finger traced small circles over your ass, making goosebumps blossom over your skin, before it hooked into the band of your bikini bottoms, tugging them slowly down and exposing your wet cunt to him.

“You know,” Joel sighed again, pausing to let the sound of his fly being undone fill the space between you. You almost moaned at the sound, pushing your ass out, desperate for any kind of friction. “I was plannin’ on bein’ nice t’you, but now…”

The blunt head of him pressed against you, running it up and down your cunt, coating it in your slick arousal, and you almost held your breath. The anticipation like a fist around your chest. Your heart drummed in your chest, almost drowning out the wet slick sound between your legs.

“I don’t want you to be nice,” you almost whispered, your fist tightening around each other at the small of your back.

“I know, princess…” he whispered back, and pushed at your opening, “I know.”

He was too big, the girth of him splitting you in two on his cock. It burned deliciously, and you savored every inch he gave you until he was fully seated inside you. Only then were you able to whimper out a moan, your breath finally released.

His hands gripped your wrists like a handlebar, something to hold on to, something to guide you back and forth on his cock. He pushed himself even deeper, releasing a deep groan in your ear as he leaned over you, the weight of him heavenly as he made room for himself inside you, his heavy balls pressed against you.

This was what you’d wanted. Just to feel him again like this.

“Shit…” you sighed, eyes almost rolling back into your head.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he whispered in your ear, “get a cock in you, and you turn into a good girl f’me.”

You wanted to push back, to give him something to prove him wrong, but you had nothing.

“Please,” you whispered, your eyes squeezed shut tightly.

“Please what, princess?” You could hear the smile in Joel’s low rumbling voice.

“Fuck me, sir,” you pleaded, “Fuck me, Daddy, please.”

“Oh, now she’s askin’ nice.” Joel pulled back and thrusted back inside in one hard thrust, pushing your body against the table, a line surely indented in your skin by now.

A whimper fell from your lips.

Joel started fucking you slowly, but hard, the table rattling with each thrust, one hand wrapped around your wrists to keep his balance. Under him you couldn’t fight back your moans, small content squeaks escaping you when he pressed himself firmly against your ass, burying his cock deeply inside you with every thrust.

“That’s it, slut, that’s a good girl,” Joel praised over you, “takin’ that cock so well, princess.”

The world started blurring around the edges with each thrust, a soft, warm feeling wrapping itself around your heart as he thrusted inside you. You were dying to touch your clit. His cock reached so far, pressing perfectly against your g-spot with each push. You were so close. If you could just touch your clit.

“P-please,” you mumbled lowly, your face scrunched tight as you clenched around his cock.

Joel grunted behind you and stepped away. You could almost cry, and maybe you did because rough pads ran over your cheek as he shushed you.

“No-no-no, it’s okay baby,” he mumbled, “calm down.”

“Please,” you tried again. Please let me come.

“I need you to do somethin’ f’me,” he told you as he guided his cock back to your ruined entrance, slick with want.

“I’ll do anything you ask,” you hurried.

“Anythin’?” Joel rubbed his cock up and down your slit as a slick sound filled the air.

“Anything.”

Behind you, Joel laughed, and pushed inside you again, making a big smile spread across your face.

“Alright, princess,” he said with a hard thrust, “what you’re gonna do f’me is when you feel like you’re close, you’re gonna tell me, tell your Daddy, alright?”

You nodded into the wood, head almost delirious with want, “Okay.”

“You wanna feel my cum inside you, don’t cha, want me to fill y’up to the brim?” His voice was so soft, almost soothing, as he fucked you hard.

“Please, Daddy, want you to come inside me, please.”

A grumbling laugh escaped Joel as he continued his harsh thrust – your skin clap clap clapping together as he hauled you towards the edge of your orgasm. It built deep in your core, coiling in on itself as he brought you closer and closer and closer.

“Joel,” you gasped, “I’m gonna come.”

Quickly, and without warning, Joel pulled out, leaving you trembling, and on the edge.

“No, you ain’t,” he told you sternly, “you’re gonna hold it.”

A rough hand smoothed over your right ass cheek, small taps to your skin reprimanding you as he rubbed his cock over the other, soiling you in your own desperation.

You felt like you were heaving for breath underneath him, eyes squeezed tight as you tried to stave it off.

“That’s it,” he praised, “that’s a good girl. Hold that orgasm f’me.”

Focusing on the way his hand rubbed over your skin, you tried to calm down and steady your breathing. It could’ve taken a minute or an hour, you didn’t know, but the feeling of falling over the edge of bliss fizzled out slowly. Joel leaned over your body, whispering praises into your ear, telling you how good you were for him. When you’d calmed down completely, you lifted your head to look at him, to catch his eyes.

Blown out and big, the warmth of them looked back, a deepness to get lost in. A small smiled tugged at his lips before he leaned down and peppered a soft kiss to your shoulder. It lasted only a second, but it made fluttering wings expand in your tummy.

When he pushed inside you again, your tied hands reached for his. His thrust came quicker than before, sloppier, as he chased his own high, his hand interlaced with yours.

“God fuckin’ slut,” he rambled.

“Takin’ that cock so fuckin’ good.”

“I’m gonna fuckin’ come– gonna fill that cunt up.”

With a hard slam of his hips against your ass, pushing himself as deep as he could, Joel came inside you with a deep grunt. “That’s it– take all that fuckin’ cum inside.” A warmth filled you from the inside as his cock twitch inside you, coating your walls in thick spurts of his cum.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he mumbled, as he thrusted his cum back inside you, making sure he’d emptied himself completely before pulling out, sliding his softening cock from your denied cunt.

“Joel,” you whispered, but he didn’t hear you, too busy with tucking himself back into his work pants, and pulling up your bikini bottoms, soiling them in his cum starting to leak out of you.

“What about me?” you asked, confused, as he undid the rope around your wrists.

“What ‘bout you?” he repeated, helping you up and turning you to face him.

A chuckle rumbled in his chest as he took in your disappointed face, a large hand coming up to cup your chin. “What?” he teased, “don’t like your punishment?” He padded your cheek and pulled away, picking up your bikini top from the floor.

“’f you’re gonna act like a fuckin’ brat– havin’ your daddy hire me to have an excuse for seein’ me again, when you could’ve just called, then you’re gonna get treated like a brat, you understand? You gotta earn your orgasm, and you ain’t earned yourself nothin’ prancing around half naked in your garden while I’m trying to work, princess.”

With that, Joel threw you your bikini top, and you barely managed to catch it between your fingers before you watched him walk out the shed, leaving you half naked, as his cum leaked down the inside of your leg.

part three -> here!

hopefully this was okay? please let me know what you thought of the new part! a comment telling me your favorite part is always welcome, and my ask box is always open to chat <3 and thank you for reading!!

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #the last of us smut #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #tlou fanfiction #tlou smut #tlou fanfic #pedro pascal

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tessieee · 8 months ago

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“Out of everyone in the Human Realm, why me?” MC x Main 7

Pairings: Obey me! Lucifer x MC, Mammon x MC, Leviathan x MC, Satan x MC, Asmodeus x MC, Beelzebub x MC, Belphegor x MC

༺═────────────═༻

It had been a particularly long day at R.A.D. Your professors droned on about subject matter you had been too drained to read about the night before, results for a test you were not confident about came in and you did way worse than you were expecting, and your nights grew shorter as you tried to keep up with the particularly hard material you were given that week.

Once you finally arrived at the House of Lamentation, you kept your interactions with the brothers curt– no one failed to notice your slumped shoulders and distant answers. Your door shuts behind you, your body sliding slowly down the door. Dark thoughts raced through your mind a mile a minute as you buried your head into your hands. Why am I even here?

The weight in your chest became heavier as the days went by and it wasn’t unusual for you to have days where you'd feel like you were incompetent. That there would be so many better choices for a human exchange student other than yourself. There are smarter, prettier, more athletic people. Why you?

Not much time passes before you hear a knock at your door, and you promptly let the demon in.

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · Lucifer ~

The first thing he notices about you is your teary eyes, usually filled with the same wonder for life he lost so long ago. It broke his heart to see you this way. Still, he remained stoic; someone had to be levelheaded.

“I brought your dinner.” His eyes trail up and down your vulnerable figure, taking in your emotional state. “If there is anything I can do to alleviate your distress, please tell me.”

And there he was, sitting on the floor by your bed right by your side. He’d insisted that you accompany him to his room but you refused to move. Curled up into a fetal position, you were basically cemented onto the ground. At first, he’d been taken aback by your sudden outburst– the sobs that racked your chest while you spilled your whole day onto him. All he did was sit there and listen, which was just as much as you could’ve asked for. Lucifer trailed his hand to your upper back, caressing it softly until you leaned into him. When you finally took your face away from your knees, he was greeted by your puffy eyes and snotty nose. You felt embarrassed but the day had taken its toll on you and you were too tired to care.

Lucifer gazes at you sympathetically, he knows better than anyone what it’s like to have days that wear you down. He also knows that outbursts with the intensity yours had aren’t just from momentary things, this was something you’ve kept over time. He curses himself for not noticing sooner, perhaps he could’ve had this conversation with you sooner.

“This might be stupid but,” The demon perks up at your shaky voice, raspy from the lament. “I just felt so pathetic. I started to question… Why me? Y’know?”

“I don’t. Do you mind elaborating on the subject?” His expression shifts from sympathy to confusion.

You sniffle, finally regaining consciousness after the crying spell. Wiping your tears from your red, swollen eyes and taking a deep breath, you finally answer his question.

“I mean- I just feel so… Insignificant.” You start, looking off to the side, almost ashamed to admit this out loud. “Out of everyone in the Human Realm, why me? What’s so special about me?”

You continue, once again allowing the words to spill from your lips.

“There’s nothing about me other humans have if not more! What if you all visit the human realm one day and you meet other humans and you realize that I’m not..”

“Not what?”

“I’m not anything special. Nor important.” His expression became more tender as you admitted the main thing that had been bugging you all this time. He could see the way a weight lifted off your shoulders and your teary eyes seemed to relax. At last, your body relaxes the muscles you never recalled tensing up in the first place. A comfortable silence ensued in your words, followed by Lucifer pulling you closer to him so your curled-up body rests more on him. You take a moment to notice he’d been sitting criss-cross the whole time. This distracted you enough to let out a sigh of relief. The eldest demon brother rests his head on yours, planting a gentle kiss on the top of your head and taking in your scent. “You’re missing the bigger picture, here.” He murmured.

“Huh?” Your thoughts were so loud, you almost missed it.

“It’s offensive to yourself to take away so much credit from a remarkable human.”

Tears welled up in your eyes again.

“My brothers and I have been around much longer than you. We’ve all known humans; what they're like, and what they’re capable of. You may not be worthy in your impossible standards, but to us– to me– you are more than enough.” Fat tears roll down your puffy cheeks once again, yet these are silent. You smile at your lap as his words sink in, allowing yourself to relax more into Lucifer’s frame. He welcomes you in, allowing the both of you to share a moment. He believes in you, he always has. “Thank you, Lucifer.” You sniffle, sincerity laced in your words. “Thank you so much.”

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Mammon ~

No words are exchanged between the two of you; simply relying on facial expressions to end up in your favorite spot to gossip in the room. However, at this point, it was unfair to reduce your bed to simply gossiping. Over time, Mammon had practically moved in at this point. He kept a spare charger and toothbrush there– you never complained.

He cradles you gently in his arms and lets you cry, similarly to how you had comforted him countless nights after arguments with his brothers that got out of hand. You two were a team, the terrible twos, two peas in a pod. He was your first, and you, his human. The sight of you broken down in his arms, distraught to no extent, truly unsettled something in him. Moments you had spent with him fly through his head as he searches for a sign as to when you started to feel this way. Was it something he said? Or did? To be fair he did only sell one thing, but if that’s what had you in this state then he’d go to the ends of all three realms to get it back.

The secondborn ran his fingers through your hair, being careful to not tug too hard on the tangles. Cooing quietly, attempting to soothe your obvious pain in any way possible. To his relief, you eventually calmed down enough to tell him what exactly was going on. You don’t think much as you tell him about your day, running by every incident in every class. Mammon takes note of the way your body shivers and grows colder as you speak of the anxiety-inducing day and doesn't miss a beat before messily throwing your comforter over the both of you. The cool cloth smelled like a pool of the both of you, taking you back to a multitude of memories of the both of you staying up far longer than you needed to simply talk.

“And with all of this, I just couldn’t help but think that I’m just not good enough.” You cry out weakly, exhausted from your outpour. “That if you met literally any other human you’d realize I could never live up to them. You’d all forget me!”

Hearing you say this tore his heart apart.

“Oi, whaddya’ even talking about?” He was dumbfounded by your feelings. How could his human feel this way? His human! The thought of you being anything along the lines of what you claimed to be confused him. You could just look off to the side, heat rising to your face in slight embarrassment. He was acting like you'd just said the most ridiculous thing in the world. "Don't go sayin' stuff like that about ya'self. I'll sock you in the face if you do."

You scrunch your nose in amusement before returning to the same sad pout. Doubts continued to cloud your mind just as quickly as they left.

“Out of everyone in the Human Realm, like, ever. Why me?” You hiccup quietly, wiping a tear with the side of his shirt leaving behind a small, damp, glossy spot. Mammon flashes you a look, usually, this would earn you a playful shove but this wasn't something he'd fix with jokes or banter. He supposes he’ll let it slide. For now.

“Well… cuz’ yer’ uhh..” The avatar of greed struggles to find the words to properly express the utter adoration he has for the human in his arms at this very moment. At the same time, he dealt with the shock of hearing such a thing come from you. The thought alone of him giving someone else the same time or feeling the same way for someone else just made him uncomfortable. He swore he'd end the person who inspired this insecurity in you. So many feelings seem to cancel out the moment he attempts to say them out loud.

“Listen, I dunno’ why or how Diavolo picked you, but I’m damn glad he did.”

You don’t hide your disappointment at the short response he gives you. Luckily you read his expression as deep in thought, so you give him a moment.

“All this time we’ve spent together, Human, is the most fun I’ve ever had running get-rich-quick schemes or even getting my ass whooped by Lucifer or– or in class–” He stops himself before he can continue rambling to you.

“Point is, yer’ irreplaceable! There's like a trillion humans, right?” “Well..!” You start with a gentle correction before he continues. “An’ there's only one you. I’m lucky to be the one to enjoy you, so don’t go round’ letting others enjoy you too, kay?” His words tug at your heartstrings resulting in a big goofy grin spread upon your pink and puffy lips. You nod your head at your first man, being more than happy to comply with his request. No one gave you such validating reassurance quite like he did. Who could blame him? You were his human after all and when you struggled he promised himself he'd be there just as much as you were there for him.

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Leviathan ~

“I-I know you’re upset! So I brought some snacks and games– or we can just watch something and not talk! Your choice! Or– or we can talk about it. Do you want to talk about it?” The rambling demon stands at the foot of your door, your red eyes and tear-streaked face look up at him sourly. You almost felt bad since he was being so nice and his attempt at comforting you was so cute.

“Hey! Don’t zone out on me like that!” He pouts, brows furrowed with worry. “Do you want to be alone?” “Not really, please come in.” He nods and complies, blushing furiously at the position he found himself in. What would others think if they saw him going into your room alone?! With presents! And a desperate expression!

“Set that stuff down anywhere,” You sniffle quietly, looking up at Levi whose arms were full of comfort items he’d brought for you. He awkwardly dumps some of the things on your bed and the floor in no particular order. The air between you two is tense, he wonders if he’s the right person for this job. Then again, he wanted to be the one to comfort his player 2.

“Can we just play Devilkart™ for a little bit?

“Please.”

And so, the two of you played Devilkart™ until you could finally breathe without sniffling every five seconds. The quiet time allowed for you to relax, usually Devilkart™ nights are full of yelling curses at each other and bets as to who’d win, but tonight you both just sat there in comfortable silence. The sounds from the TV comforted you, the soft lighting of it in your dark room and warmth from Levi’s body shifted your mind from its corner in your brain.

After a couple rounds, you scooted closer to Levi who failed to react nonchalantly as you felt his body tense when your head rested on his shoulder.

“Wh–oa. You okay?

“It’s not fair, I could never be as great as some of the humans out there. I’m not worthy of being here.”

“What?” He blinks, shocked by the sudden confession. Your words process in his head and hit too close to home. You sounded like him.

“That’s… that’s not true and you know it” Levi shifts the position you two are in, this time allowing his arms enough space to hold your shoulders. As to make sure you hear what you’re about to say— as if he could yank you out of the slump you were in, dust you off, and the balance would be restored.

Was it bad he wanted to kiss you?

“What if Diavolo picked a celebrity, or a model, or an idol!?” Your hands trail to his wrists, holding tightly but not pushing away. More tears race down your face, shameless and loud.

“You’d all have no idea who I am— out of everyone in the Human Realm, why me?”

“Because you’re— you— you’re special! How do you not see it?” His voice raised slightly, getting heated as you did. Leviathan takes a moment to lower his tone again; it was beyond him why you felt this way, he couldn’t fathom someone so perfect ever feeling anything but. If he had your charisma, your good looks, your wit— he doesn’t know what he’d do but he just knows it wouldn’t be feeling this way and it certainly wouldn’t be seeking out the comfort of an otaku.

“You’re like… my— my confidant! Thanks to you my stats are— they’re stronger than ever!” You could cook an egg on his face, burning to the touch.

“Really?” His reference momentarily allowed you to sniffle your emotions down. Knowing him, he was anxious out of his mind to confess how he felt.

“D’aw!” You coo teasingly, sniffling once again and rubbing your cheek against the hand still gripping onto your shoulder. The atmosphere alone felt hot, he was flustered.

“Levi, that was sooo sweet!”

“Huh?! What’s with that shift?!”

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Satan~

He had noticed that you were struggling in class, confirmed by when you went to his room one night to ask for help with an assignment. Since then he’d been trying to help you, you seemed okay. That didn’t prevent him from being disappointed in himself when you came home and locked yourself in your room.

Satan had been in your room way less than you’d been in his. His hand gripped your favorite book tightly as he stood awkwardly in your room. You let him in, now what. It was unusual for him to go into situations unprepared like this, he needed a moment to gather his thoughts.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You shrug, dejected by the day’s events. Exhaustion took over your body and the last thing you wanted was to expel your burden onto him. Satan’s expression softened from seeing your mood shift. At least you weren’t crying anymore?

“Lets lay down. How’s that sound, hm?” He nods towards your bed, you lead the way.

The avatar of wrath displays impossible softness around you, stroking your hair with one hand and skillfully holding onto your favorite book in the other. You feel the vibrations from his chest where your face lies, his rich voice bringing your favorite characters to life. He’d introduced you too the book not long after you first made a pact with him. Since then, you’d read the copy of it he and you shared. The book was loved, usually Satan wouldnt be able to stand the tattering of a book but the little notes and scribbled annotations peppered on the margins stood out. It was more than just a story now; a display of your blossoming friendship, the small fingertip touches whenever you’d exchange the book between you two to read the week’s notes from the other, and the way you began to look forward every time you planned an exchange of the book.

“There are few people whom I really love,” He reads, leaning his head on top of yours. “and still fewer of whom I think well. The more I see of the world, the more I–”

Satan stops himself; he took note of the way your breathing steadied and your eyes drifted shut. Your form lay against him peacefully as he slowly put the book away and readjusted your position so that you could both drift off to sleep.

When you woke up, there was a cup of tea by your nightstand. Steam was still emanating from the top of it– you take it in your hands and blow gently. Too tired to process the absence of warmth that Satan’s body provided before he left, you take a small sip of the herbal liquid.

“Ready to talk about it?” He appeared from the front of your door, shutting it gently behind him. His brothers were worried sick and flooded the fourth eldest with questions about how you were doing and if an intervention was required. He simply reassured them that everything was under control.

“In hindsight, it’s kinda’ silly. I don’t want to trouble you with it”

“If it’s about you, it's never silly. Talk to me, please?”

You sigh, eyes dashing to the side as he approaches the side of your bed taking a seat for himself. The sip of tea you took sits warmly in your mouth, any attempt to stall admitting to him how you felt. You swallow hard.

“I just feel like… In comparison to other humans, I fall short.” You tangle a hand through your hair tugging at the strands gently. The demon on your bed shifts his body more towards you. You had his attention now– intrigued by your insecurity he stays silent hoping you tell him more.

“Makes me think, out of everyone in the Human Realm, why me?” A short pause fills the air with tension. “I wish I was special.”

“But you are the most remarkable human I’ve ever had the privilege of spending time with.” His words seem to heal something in you. You wondered when you began to care so much about what he thought of you. “Truly, I have never caught myself admiring a human with the same intensity.”

Your heart skips a beat while he’s speaking. The grip on your mug tightens and the look on your face reads disbelief. How long has he felt this way?

“Ad–admiring? Satan..”

“Believe me when I say you are anything but unremarkable. You’ve worked your way into all of our hearts… Mine especially.” A soft blush crept onto his face, you noticed.

Satan held much more passion for you than you originally thought. Your arms wrap themselves around his neck to bury your nose in the crook of his neck and he wastes no time before returning your affection. You couldn't quite put your finger on his scent, but you knew it smelt like home.

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Asmodeus~

Asmodeus followed you to your room the moment he saw your teary eyes. The two of you had been inseparable since you arrived at the Devildom. Whenever your attention wasn’t being demanded by all of the other responsibilities you bore simply by being a human and existing in the Devildom, you were in his room. No one had ever made him laugh the way you did, regardless of what you two were talking about. Lady Luck worked her magic when he met you.

“Oh, darling…” A sympathetic look laced his porcelain features at seeing your trembling shoulders. Choking on your sobs, you shove your hands towards your face being embarrassed to be seen this way. You felt like a mess, you probably looked like one too. Overhearing your classmates during lunch enlightened you to what they considered you to be. Sometimes you forget that outside your circle of love provided by the exchange program, a lot of demons still had to shift their mindsets when it came to humans.

Little time passes before the avatar of lust takes your body and pulls it close to his. Seeing you this way made him anxious, though he’d never admit it out loud, he liked how it felt. Asmo wanted to care for you almost as much as he cared for himself and it showed. He never missed a chance to offer you some sort of joint self-care sessions that you grew fond of over time.

“That's it, love.” He cooed, peppering kisses on the top of your skull as you spilled muffled wails into his designer sweater. “Cry it out.”

Panic struck his face for a moment, maybe putting more thought into drabbing down before comforting you would have been the smart choice. What a silly thought! It was impossible for someone like him to drab down.

The texture of the cashmere comforts your nose that you’d rubbed raw. was broken by the demon’s quiet humming. An unfamiliar melody lulled you to a less troubled state, gentle and kind. Asmodeus’ flirty behavior turned you off when you first arrived in the Devildom. Back then everything was so new and overwhelming and a part of you couldn’t stand all of the demons around you. Being received with such affection was a foreign feeling to you which you just excused as ingenuine. That didn’t stop your mind from wandering every once in a while– with all the touches on the shoulder when he’d run into you after class, the back rubs when you’d spend the night gossiping in his room, the charged eye contact when he would do your makeup– you couldn’t help but look forward to the next time he would be around.

“Darling, why don’t you tell me what’s going on now?” His cold hand soothes your red-hot face, your sobs had eased into quiet huffs. “Keeping this to yourself won’t relieve the pain in your chest.”

A sigh follows Asmo’s words. You never had to deal with anything alone now that Asmodeus was by your side. His presence felt so bright in comparison to yours– how he always knew how you felt and what you needed was what confused you. To have someone be so attentive to your needs and the push and pull of your emotions was new to you. When you drowned in your feelings he was always there to save you. For a while you were suspicious of his intentions– unsure if the interest he took in you was anything genuine. But now you realize that you had never felt so seen by another entity before and by having someone to help you recognize your worth, you began to appreciate life.

“I can’t shake the feeling that if you guys ever meet another human… I don’t know Asmo, this is pointless, I feel better now!” This earns you a deadpan from the demon.

“What about me interests you so much?” You raise your voice, eyebrows arched with annoyance. Emotions clouded your judgment making it easy for you to fall back into your old thinking habits. You found it unfathomable for someone to care for you without hidden intentions and not knowing if Asmo had any frustrated you.

“I don't deserve this!” Your hands motioned between the two of you pointing out his affection.

“Asmo, I feel awful.” You frown. “I had an awful day and heard awful things from the people in my class and–” Silence.

“Out of everyone in the human realm, why me?” Asmodeus furrows his brows, exhaling sharply. Your words didn’t go without hurting. He figured that he had nothing to hide from you so that that would earn him some trust. This didn’t stop him from brushing it off; your insecurities already haunted one person and he couldn’t make it become two for your sake.

“Because a human quite like you is hard to come across. Your soul is like a diamond, love. The toughest, shiniest, most eye-catching diamond.”

“You don’t mean that.” Bitterness is laced through your words. You didn't understand why he felt this way about you. The unknown regarding why he felt that way flustered you, everything about your borderline erotic friendship with the avatar of lust flustered you.

Your heart skips a beat and a quiet sniffle breaks the silence. Asmodeus made you nervous. Sure, he was never shy with letting you know how he felt about you, but you were at your lowest and here he was; with you. Then it dawned on you. Anyone else could’ve come to check on you but it was Asmodeus who followed you straight to your room, as if he could feel what you felt. You wanted someone to chase after you and somehow he knew that. It irritated you and made you swoon at the same time. Realization dawned on you. The demon cradling you in his arms wasn’t the root of your frustration but the fear of being known the way he knew you.

You learned a lot from your time with Asmo. Thanks to him you knew you deserve the love he gave you.

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Beelzebub~

After hearing your door slam shut the brothers could only shrug at each other. They shared confused looks until they all landed on Beelzebub, who had been shoving some of your favorite snacks into his pockets and grabbing some for himself on the way to your room.

“Should we come too?” Belphegor chimes in. The sound of your door had stirred him awake. His groggy expression provoked a softness in his brother’s face.

“I think that would overwhelm them.” He says, barely swallowing the food in his mouth before speaking. “Be right back.”

Hastily he makes his way up the stairs to your room to not be tempted to eat the snacks he saved for you. Luckily, the ones he brought for the road had been devoured after you let him into your room.

Beelzebub was faced with your red nose and teary eyes. With a sharp inhale, he pats his bulging pockets which he packed full of snacks for the both of you.

“Hey. Can I come in?” You nod and sniffle. A weak smile graces your sad features at seeing the avatar of gluttony at your door. Over time he’d become less aloof around you and since you’d started to spend more time together you had a firsthand experience of how loyal and caring he really was. Having him there in your room checking on you made you flustered, you liked it— you like him— a lot.

His large hands dug into his pockets, emptying out the contents before taking a seat on your bed. Beel pats the seat next to him which you trudge over to and take a seat.

“Beel?” You rest your head on his shoulder. The bag of your favorite chips crinkles loudly as you tear it open. “D’you ever feel like you’re nothing special?”

This confused the demon by your side. What did you mean, nothing special? He couldn’t imagine you and those words being in the same sentence, much less spoken by you. Spending time with you and knowing of your equal fondness and understanding towards Belphie made you practically perfect in his eyes. To him, you oozed kindness. Yet he understood where you were coming from. To be reduced to one word to summarize your entire being was an experience he was far too familiar with, even with loved ones. Seeing your hurt-ridden face felt like a punch to the stomach.

“All the time.” The words come out quietly from his mouth as if he’d also been admitting something. His strong hand reaches over your body and into the open chip bag you had yet to eat out of. The sounds of his crunching serves as white noise while you think. You couldn’t possibly fathom someone like Beel feeling the way you do. If you looked like that you’d probably be an asshole, you were hot so you figured you’d never have to be nice to anyone. You chastise yourself for your thought process.

“People will have their idea of you,” Beelzebub rubs your back gently and an empathetic look in his eyes glistens in your direction. “If that's all you are to them it says more about them than you.”

Your smile becomes genuine as he cheers you up. Perhaps he’s the type to pay attention during the pep-talk before a big game of Fangol. The thought made you laugh sadly. Beel catches a glimpse of your expression. He smiles too.

“Yeah, you’re right.” You say a thoughtful frown etched onto your features. Reaching into your bag of chips you grab a couple to hold in your mouth while you and Beel sat there. The plush mattress dips under your weight as you take a seat right behind where the sixthborn was sitting. He turns to look at you with confusion but you take his face in your hands and gently turn it the other way. Beelzebub doesn’t question you when you start to run your fingers through his ginger locks and he knows better than to comment as you start to braid strands of his hair together.

“That tickles.” He says through a mouth full of the chips you made the mistake of abandoning on the floor near him. You give him a tired giggle which is all you can muster up. The demon gives himself a couple of seconds to finish up the bag before continuing with his point. He felt like it wouldn’t be fair to you to just leave it like that. A part of you still looked upset.

“There’s no one like you out there.” Assuredness drips from his words. As if he’d practiced this in the mirror a million times over before heading to your room. “Not in all the three realms.”

“You’re special to us all and I..” He hesitates for a moment, furrowing his brows in thought. Why did he feel shy all of a sudden? A light blush dusted his cheeks as thoughts about you ran through his mind. “Really think you’re special.”

“Very detailed, thank you, Beel.” You say with feigned satisfaction. The hair you were braiding slipped from your fingers as the demon turned to give you an incredulous look. Laughter bubbles in your chest at seeing the way his head tilted, you were fond of the demon and not fond of the way it felt like you’d just kicked a puppy in front of him with the expression he was shooting in your direction.

“I’m kidding.” You slid your arms around his neck, resting your weight on his built shoulders. That’s a feeling you’d never get tired of. “Thank you, Beelz”

A large hand trails toward your forearm, which grounds you in the moment. Suddenly you both become aware of how close you are to each other. You can feel his breath on your arms; he’d pull you closer if he could.

“Yeah.” The simple response from the demon certainly didn’t speak for his complex feelings for you. He knew he’d do anything to keep that pretty smile on your face.

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Belphegor~

“Hey, you’re kinda’ being really loud. Do you mind– uhm…”

Belphegor was faced with the unexpected. He assumed that when he’d go complain to the human you’d apologize, laugh it off, and invite him in– which he would’ve reluctantly accepted whilst already falling asleep in your bed– but there you were, sobbing and glaring furiously at him. Did he even do anything?

“Whoa, alright what’s with the face? Let me in.” You grumble something under your breath that you’re glad he doesn’t hear. The door creaks as he pushes through it and scans your room, eyes locked onto your soft, unmade bed. Not that he cared.

“I dunno Belphie…” You stare helplessly as he walks by you. “I don’t feel good right now.”

He shrugs you off. There’s nothing he couldn’t help you get over. Someone like you shouldn’t have to be worried about anything. You have one of the most comfortable beds in the Devildom and seven doting demons who care about you— if that isn’t the makings of a stress-free life he didn’t know what was.

“Kay’ then.” The demon makes himself comfortable on your bed. You helplessly watch as he curls up in your crying spot.

“What I meant was that I wanna’ be alone?”

“Belphie?”

He was fast asleep. Of course, he was! Why would you expect him to respect your wishes? Frustration displayed itself proudly on your face as you watched the seventh-born sleep. You were jealous of how peacefully he slept.

“Whatever. Why would you care?” You mumble, taking advantage of the fact he was knocked out cold. “You of all people would agree I’m not shit.”

The floorboards creak quietly as you pace around your room, rubbing up and down your arms for comfort. If you stopped moving you’d likely start crying again and you’d rather not wake Belphegor just for him to see you cry.

“Of course I’m not special.”

“This is so stupid. Now I can’t even have a pity party in peace.”

You feel the tears well up in your eyes again. Just when you managed to stop them your tear ducts were betraying you. The steady flow of tears began once again, your chest heaving with sorrow. No sounds escape from your mouth until you have to inhale again. Trying to keep yourself quiet, you slap a hand over your mouth. Heading to the bathroom to cry seemed like the only valid solution at this point.

“Why do you want to be special so bad anyway?” The avatar of sloth’s drowsy voice snaps you out of your ramble. His eyes shift lazily across you, taking in your distressed appearance. You whip your head around towards him making a pathetic attempt to clean your face from the tears and snot that expressed your dread.

“What?” You stutter out. A quiet yawn is emitted from the demon before he sits up to face you.

“What’s so good about being special that it deserves to have you pining for it like this?” This earns a scoff from you.

“You were listening the whole–” You cut yourself off before setting off on the demon. To alleviate the pressure of an oncoming headache you pinch your nosebridge, hoping the tension won’t get worse. “Belphie, I feel like I’m gonna break down. If you don’t care to help then leave.”

Mentally you cursed yourself for allowing Belphie to see such a side of you. Even when you were trying to be stern your voice shook with uncertainty and hurt. He seems to visibly soften with your words, understanding that now wasn't the time to banter or push your buttons. It wouldn't be fun to see your reaction if he did. Belphegor stifles a yawn which turns into a long sigh.

“You’re pacing y’know” You shoot him a furious look before he speaks again. “Look, it's just lame you think this way cuz’ you don’t even have to try to be unique.”

You let him talk this time.

“It’s what draws people to you. I mean, who else can deal with our problems the way you do and then still have energy to give after.” A soft grin graces his lips. “I’d be exhausted.”

Damn it. How emotional were you exactly? Tears slipped out of your eyes as he spoke, your heart holding on to every word and the knowledge that Belphie did understand. Part of you was afraid you’d just be brushed off by the demon but after everything you had been through with them made it silly for you to think so. Belphie cared for you too, in his own way. He nods to the side you usually sleep on and makes room for you to lie by him. Not much time passes before your head is resting on the nook of his shoulder and his fingers trail shapes lazily on your side. You always forgot how tired breakdowns made you. You always forgot how safe sleeping by Belphegor’s side made you feel, ironically enough. Whether you were special or not to everyone else stopped concerning you so much now that you knew how special you truly were to someone who never would’ve given humans a chance in the first place. With your mind finally at rest, you could drift off to sleep.

༺═────────────═༻

Oh mty glob finally its done T_T I'm so sorry for taking a billion years on these I tried my best to not make any part longer than the other or anyone OOC. Im super anal when I see a character I really like is OOC so if anyone sees that and has tips for how to write them I'm all ears!!

Thank u for reading <3

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

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yupstillaghost · 13 days ago

Text

✨️Halo & Horns🥀

Part 2

Erik Campbell x Pastor's Daughter Reader

Part 1

Part 3

Summary: Your parents said you're not allowed to see Erik again after your father caught you alone with him. Erik is unphased by your father's threats towards him, so he makes an attempt to contact you.

Warnings: oral piercing, swearing, strict parents, talks of religion, extreme romantic tension and tooth rotting fluff, shirtless Erik. MDNI

Other: No use of Y/N, description of articals of clothing reader is wearing, but no physical description of reader.

Author's note: so many people wanted to be on the tag list, but unfortunately, I'm capped at 50 mentions per post. So if you didn't make it, I'm sorry 😞 also not me just getting a sudden burst of inspiration and deciding to drop part 2 out of nowhere.

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

As soon as you got home from the Campbell's house, you received a lengthy lecture from your parents on the importance of supervised dating. Your father explained that temptation is everywhere, and it's always waiting for us to have a moment of weakness in order to strike. Then your mother explained the importance of faith in relationships and marriage and how Erik Campbell was not the right fit for you. Your father agreed of course.

"That Campbell boy might have seemed charismatic sweetheart, but so was Satan himself" he preached to you. "Dad, don't you think its unfair to judge someone based on their looks and one conversation?" You asked in a meek tone.

"Perhaps. But I could tell straight away that Campbell is not a man of God and he would not be a good influence on you. So it's important that you stay away from him" your dad explained in a more calm manner in hopes of getting through to you. You looked to your mom for her opinion, but she looked back at you with an apologetic glint in her eyes.

"Sweetie, we only want what's best for you" your mother cooed "besides, there are plenty of fish in the sea." You allowed your shoulders to drop and stared down at your lap, feeling defeated. Once your parents indicated that you were free to go, you got off the living room couch and practically bolted to your room. You wanted to slam the door to show your parents how upset you were, but you knew that would only lead to you getting your door taken off the hinges like when you were a child.

You were a grown woman, but your parents still treated you like a little girl and you hated it. But unfortunately, your father was a firm believer in the classic saying "you live under my roof, you live by my rules."

You changed into your pajamas and immediately climbed into bed. You were so troubled after the conversation with your parents that you didn't even have the energy to finish the moth creature in your sketch book. You tried to distract yourself by doom scrolling on your phone, but not even that helped.

Your mind was overloaded with thoughts of Erik. His pale blue eyes, his voice, his little grin, the softness and warmth of his tatted skin. You repeated your interaction with him in your head over and over like a cassette tape stuck on an endless loop. You screwed your eyes shut and roughly ran your hands through your hair before yanking your covers up and over your head. "God, please let me forget him" you prayed silently in the darkness, almost in tears. "Please let me forget about Erik Campbell."

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The next morning, you sat at the breakfast table staring blankly into your cup of coffee with newly pronounced under eye bags. You barely slept the night before because your prayers to forget about Erik went unanswered. You were up a majority of the night thinking about him, and when you did finally manage to fall asleep, he was waiting for you in your dreams. It was like there was an Erik sized cockroach infestation in your brain.

"Sweetheart, do you mind fetching the mail please? Your father asked you while cutting his sausage links your mother prepared for him. All you did was nod as you slowly stood up and sluggishly walked to the front door.

You made your way down the driveway to the mailbox, the bottom of your fuzzy pink slippers dragging on the pavement. You squinted as the morning sun assaulted your corneas. You were too tired for all of this. It was all Erik's fault. You reached into the mailbox and pulled out an assortment of envelopes. You held them in front of you and sifted through them as you walked back up your driveway.

Bills, bank statements, junk mail, and a folded piece of paper that caught your attention. You stuffed all the other mail under your armpit so you could use both hands to unfold the paper. Once you fully unfolded it, your eyebrows threaded together in confusion. It was a flier for a local tattoo parlor.

"Marked Tattoo & Body Piercing Studio" you read the flier aloud to yourself. It was a strange thing to find in your mailbox, to say the least. Sure, you would sometimes receive fliers in the mail for all sorts of things, but never a tattoo parlor. You couldn't help but feel like there was some sort of significance to it. Your mind wandered to Erik again and the tattoos that adorned his arms.

"Wait a minute...Erik is a tattoo artist" you thought to yourself. Your eyes scanned the flier again. You looked at the address and phone number printed at the bottom of the shop's name. There, next to the shop's phone number, was the letters EC scribbled on the paper. Your eyes went wide when the realization hit you. Those weren't just any random couple of letters, they were someone's initials. EC...Erik Campbell.

Erik was trying to communicate with you discreetly by leaving the flier for his work in your mailbox. So clever, but so risky. You could only imagine what would have happened if it wasn't you who found it. You quickly refolded the paper and shoved it into the pocket of your pj shorts as you swiftly walked up to the front door of your home.

You handed the mail to your dad, and you tried your best to calmly and nonchalantly walk up the stairs to your bedroom. Once you were inside with the door securely shut, you plopped onto your bed and took the flier out of your pocket. With slightly shakey hands, you picked up your phone and dialed the number on the flier.

"What if he doesn't answer?" You considered "What if I'm wrong about this?" Your nerves had your whole body buzzing with anxiety and anticipation. You decided you had to at least give it a try, so you slowly pressed the call button and put the phone to your ear. The phone only rang twice on the other end before someone picked up.

"Marked Tattoo & Body Piercings, Erik speaking" said the familiar male voice on the phone. You gasped slightly as soon as Erik's monotone customer service voice hit your ear. You were shaking. You couldn't believe you were right about the flier and that it was Erik on the phone with you.

"Umm..hi" you spoke softly to make sure your parents couldn't hear you. "Is that you, Peach?" Erik said with more vitality in his tone. You could practically hear the smirk on his lips through the phone.

"Ya..its me" you giggled nervously. You didn't exactly plan out what you were going to say to Erik if he picked up the phone, so to say you were nervous would be an understatement.

"I see you found my little easter egg" he chuckled on the other end. "Yes I did. I applaud your creativity, Campbell" you teased. You heard Erik bite back a laugh on the other end of the phone and your heart rate started to pick up. Just a few hours ago, you thought you would never hear his voice again. But there he was talking right into your ear.

"Well, you left before I could ask for your number yesterday, and I knew I couldn't just walk up to your door because then your old man would start shoving a crucifix in my face" Erik explained with sarcasm at the end. You held back a giggle after what he said about your dad. It was funny to you because it was pretty spot on.

"That's a fair assumption" you agreed with amusement in your voice. The banter between the two of you made you forget your nerves and the fact that you're not even supposed to be talking to Erik. You didn't care. You missed him, you needed this. You needed to hear his voice. You heard Erik take a deep breath through the phone.

"Listen, Peach, the thing is I can't stop thinking about you. I know your parents don't want me near you but honestly, I don't really give a fuck..I need to see you." Erik's confession rocked you. You were dumbfounded. You spent all night thinking about him, and it filled your stomach with an unimaginable amount of butterflies to think that he was going through the same thing.

"You still there?" Erik asked softly. You didn't realize how long you were quiet for. "Ya, I'm still here" you whispered "I wanna see you too, Erik." You and Erik exchanged numbers over the phone while you tried to stay as quiet as possible. Adrenaline was pumping throughout your body. If your parents walked in on you, this could all be ruined immediately.

"Is there any chance I could see you tonight?" Erik asked while sounding hopeful. "You could come by the shop after closing. It would just be the two of us. No witnesses."

You took a minute to ponder the possibility. You thought about how you could go about seeing Erik without your parents finding out. You looked at the flier again, it said the shop closed at 9:00pm. You then remembered you had Bible study tonight at 8:00 with girls from your new church. Judging by the address on the flier and the address of the girls' house that would be hosting Bible study, you could leave early and head right there.

"That sounded creepy, didn't it? I'm sorry, Peach" Erik blurted out, interrupting your thoughts. You giggled as a way to reassure him.

"No it wasn't, I was just thinking it over. I have Bible study tonight, but I can leave early" you said to him through a whisper. You heard Erik let out a single chuckle and you just knew there was a smirk on his lips.

"You're really willing to sneak around for me? Your dad would probably tie boulders to my ankles and throw me in a river if he finds out" Erik exaggerated. Though his assumption was extreme, you smiled none the less at his strange sense of humor.

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him" you responded, feeling like a rebellious teenager for making plans to meet up with a guy you were told to stay away from.

"Then I guess I'll see you tonight, Peach" Erik mumbled in a husky tone. "And bring those drawings of yours with you. I'd love to see them." With that, you said your quiet goodbyes and hung up the phone.

You stared at your bedroom wall and let out the breath you didn't know you were holding. You were stunned by what you just did. You talked to Erik on the phone. You made plans to meet up with him tonight. Your stomach turned wildly. You felt a twinge of guilt for disobeying your parents, but your excitement to see Erik again overpowered it. You were an adult, your parents couldn't keep telling you what to do. You wanted desperately to be free of their rules and expectations, and if the only way to do that was to sneak around, then so be it.

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

You were bouncing your leg with your Bible in your lap as you sat in the circle of women discussing a verse from... Genesis? Exodus? You couldn't remember because you weren't really paying attention. You kept stealing glances at the clock on the wall. It was almost 9:00pm, which meant it was almost time for your rendezvous with Erik. You closed your Bible gently and placed it in your small backpack next to your sketch book. It was time for you to make your escape.

"I'm gonna head out girls, I'm not feeling well" you lied expertly, standing up from your chair and swinging your backpack onto your shoulders. They all wished you well, and you were out the door and power walking to your car in no time. You got into the driver's seat and put the address of the tattoo parlor into your phone's GPS app. You drove the whole way there with a swirly feeling in your stomach, your clamey hands gripping the steering wheel.

When you arrived, your heart felt like it was going explode out of your chest. You made sure to park down the street instead of parking right in front of the shop. You didn't want anyone you knew to drive by and possibly recognize your car. You walked up to the shop with your hood up, feeling like you were about to do something illegal. Seeing the tatted and pierced man you had a crush on wasn't illegal of course, but you couldn't risk getting caught.

You walked into the shop, and almost instantly, you felt out of place. The tattoo parlor was dimly lit and the brick walls gave it an industrial feel. The decor was definitely something your parents would turn their noses up to, but you kind of liked it. The place looked cluttered, but it seemed like an organized clutter.

Throughout the shop were black leather stools and tattoo chairs with a matching black leather couch in the waiting area. The shelves that held various objects like oddities and bottles of tattoo ink were accented with red led lights. It gave the shop more lighting while also adding a sensual feel. Your blue jeans and lavender hoodie were the only colorful things in the whole shop. A stark contrast indeed.

You peered around the corner of the front desk, looking for the man you were there to see. You could hear faint talking over the death metal music playing on the Bluetooth speakers, so you followed the voice.

You then found Erik hiding in the corner of the shop, but he wasn't alone. He was sitting in one of the stools with a girl in the tattoo chair in front of him. It seemed like he was finishing a piercing he did for her. Judging by his gloved hands working in the girl's mouth, he must have given her a tongue piercing.

You cringed a little at the thought. Not because of the tongue ring itself, but you couldn't imagine how bad it must have hurt. You heard Erik trying to have a conversation with the girl while having his hands in her mouth. You stifled a giggle, watching his attempt as you stood about 10 feet away from them.

"So there's this girl, right? She's extremely gorgeous and super sweet. We met at my parent's barbecue yesterday, we got to talking, and we completely hit it off." The girl in chair just made agreeable noises as Erik continued his monolog while screwing on the ball of her new piercing.

"Now I get to hang out with her after work tonight. I'm psyched out of my mind about it. I feel like I could run a fucking marathon" Erik finished screwing on the ball of the piercing and the girl brought her tongue back in her mouth.

Erik looked to his right and saw you standing idoly by, waiting for him to notice you. You felt a whole wave of emotions crash over you when his muted blue eyes connected with yours, but you stomped them down so you wouldn't be overwhelmed. You shyly waved at Erik, and he flashed you that grin that you were thinking about the whole day.

"There she is," Erik cooed to you. "Mind waiting for me up front, Peach? I'm just finishing up." You nodded while replying with a "mhm" before turning and walking back to the front of the shop.

You sat down on the leather couch while you listened to Erik go over the aftercare instructions with the girl he just pierced. You then watched as the girl left out the door, already touching her new tongue ring despite Erik telling her not to. You heard footsteps approaching the front of the shop and Erik came into view from around the corner. He went to the door and locked it and then proceeded to flip the "come in, we are open!" sign to "sorry, we are closed."

"I thought you said no witnesses" you said to him with a smirk to let him know you were only teasing. Erik smirked back at you followed by a snort.

"She came in 10 minutes before closing time, and it was only a piercing. If she came in this late wanting a tattoo, I would have told her to kick rocks." You smiled at him but then you bit the corner of you lip when you realized what he was wearing.

Erik had on the same black skinny jeans and combat boots you saw him in yesterday, but it was the upper part of him that had you stunned. He was wearing a black leather jacket but he didn't have a shirt on underneath. You could see bits of more tattoos that you didn't know he had poking out of the jacket.

You saw a black and gray dragon that spanned across his chest right underneath his collarbones. It was so dark but so detailed that you could still tell what it was from a mile away. Right below it is what probably had you the most speechless. Right under the dragon was a huge skull tattoo that took up the remaining skin of his torso. You just sat there and marveled at him as he sauntered over to you. This man was going to be the death of you.

"Like what you see, Sweets?" Erik spoke in a gravely tone, taking notice of where your eyes were focused. You snapped out of your daze and looked up at Erik, who was now standing over you. You stood up quickly and gazed at Erik with a sheepish look on your face.

"Sorry I was just..." you trailed off, racking your brain for an excuse for your staring. "Don't be sorry, I didn't get these tattoos for people to not look at them" Erik reassured you.

"Did you draw these too?" You asked with curiosity as you took a step closer and placed a hand on the dragon adorning his chest. You quickly realized you were touching Erik's tattoos without checking with him first yet again. There was something about him that just made you forget what personal space was. You tried to withdraw your hand from him, but he gently took your wrist and placed your hand back on his bare chest.

"I don't mind you touching my tattoos, Sweets" Erik said in a low voice, practically reading your mind. The close proximity you found yourself in with him made your brain short circuit. You weren't standing this close to him yesterday. If you were, your father would definitely have an aneurysm.

Erik still had his hand wrapped around your wrist, so he pulled your hand to the right side of his chest. There, you could feel his heart beating rapidly, and you instinctively flattened your palm. Your previous question to Erik was long forgotten, and so was the tattoo on his chest. All you could focus on was his heart rate and the fact that it matched your own.

You were brought out of your head by Erik using his other hand to lift your chin so you could look into his eyes. His eyes gave you that sparkle from yesterday. You didn't realize just how much you missed Erik until now.

Your senses were overloaded with him. The warmth of his skin under your palm. The smell of his cologne mixed with the smell of ink. The sound of his steady breathing in the quiet tattoo parlor. The way that he looked just as handsome and dangerous as the last time you saw him. All that was left was...taste.

No, you couldn't, not yet. It was too soon. You were moving too fast. You slowly took your hand off Erik's chest, his grip on your wrist letting go at the same time. You dropped your gaze down to your feet as you exhaled a stuttering breath. Erik wasn't ready to let you go, but he didn't want to overwhelm you any further. So he settled for holding your delicate fingers in his large hands.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to come on so strong" Erik whispered his apology with sincerity in his voice. Your overwhelmed state shifted to embarrassment. You did not have a lot of experience with romance due to your religious upbringing, and you feared it was evident to him now. What women in her 20s gets overwhelmed by just the probability of a kiss?

"You're fine Erik its just.." you dared to glance back up at him to see a worried look in his bluish gray eyes. "I just don't want to move too fast" you finished with a meek tone. Erik brought a hand to your upper arm and squeezed it gently.

"We can move at whatever pase you want, Peach. I'm here for the ride either way." Erik spoke to you softly while showing you a genuine smile with teeth. Your cheeks took on a pinkish hue after hearing his words. You beamed at him, feeling grateful that he was so patient and understanding.

"So, do you want to see my drawings?" You asked him shyly, and he instantly beamed at you.

"I'd love to"

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@foreverchangingmind

@slutsnearme

@pandaofsilentdeath

#final destination #final destination bloodlines #final destination fan fiction #erik campbell #erik campbell fan fic #erik campbell final destination #erik campbell x reader #richard harmon #richard harmon fan fic #richard harmon x reader #fd bloodlines

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