#really put me off hh

[sammyloomis]

my entire fyp is wednesday edits….. IVE NEVER EVEN SEEN THE SHOW BRO

[ghostickle]

Love having to help hold everyone else’s lives together but the second I’m struggling and need help then I’m too needy and being a problem

[n9ph]

pss warning i drew selfship stuff w gabriel if this makes u uncomfy just scroll past this was for comfort aa

[euthymiya]

Poor wrio comes home to you after a long day, so you surprise him with new lingerie from chiori’s boutique because you’re a good, sweet girlfriend 🙂‍↔️ no this isn’t based on that one scene in your fic

surprise compensation ft. wriothesley

wriothesley is a hard worker. sometimes, when days are particularly long and rough, you have a surprise or two that makes things worth the troubles

contains: 3.2k word count ; fem reader ; adult content. no minors ; established relationship ; nipple play ; cunnilingus ; fingering ; unprotected vaginal sex ; creampie ; wriothesley is a serial clothes ripper ; one joke about his cuffs

Reforming criminals is tough work. Wriothesley is capable for the job, of course—he thinks the state of the fortress under him compared to past years is proof enough that he does the job better than anyone else has. But regardless, it’s tough work.

Sometimes they send him ruffians for inmates. They come to him pent up and aggressive. They don’t miss a beat at lunging at him once the cuffs come off, ready to pick a fight and blow steam off on the warden of the prison himself. Wriothesley’s capable though—both in administration and in a fist fight.

That doesn’t make him rub his jaw any less from the sore spot where a punch landed today. It’s rare to get a hit on him, but not entirely impossible. He walks into your bedroom, grumbling under his breath as he rubs into the tenseness of his jawline as you sit up straighter in bed at his arrival.

“M’back, sweetheart,” he mumbles, giving you a tired grin as he carefully lays himself over your body, groaning as his muscles relax for the first time all day on top of your forgiving body.

“Rough day?” You ask sympathetically, titling his head up to inspect the blossoming bruise along his skin.

“You have no idea.”

“New prisoners give you trouble?” You smile knowingly, rubbing a hand over his back, pressing the heel of your palm gently into the tight, punishing knots in his muscles as he grunts into your neck.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he assures. “I put them in place.”

“Not before they set your jaw in place,” you snort, earning a huffed grumble under his breath from him.

“You should see the other guys.” His lips press a small kiss to your skin, sucking gently against your pulse point as he hums approvingly as he inhales your scent. “Rowdy bunch, but I’ll fix ‘em up.”

“Such a hard working duke,” you giggle, “they should compensate you more.”

“Hh?” He chuckles, lifting his head up as he grins at you, “you think so? Think I need deeper pockets for my efforts?”

You hum, leaning in and pressing a slow, but not heatless kiss against his chapped lips, running your hand along his collar until you find the first button, undoing it slightly to reveal more of his sturdy chest. He smiles against your lips, a bit excited, and a little more smug.

“I got you something,” you whisper, voice breathy. He can hear the smile between your words, quirking a brow as he waits for you to continue speaking. “I think you’ll really appreciate it.”

“Who needs better compensation when you’re always rewarding me,” he grins, toothy and charming as he nips at your lips before adding, “plan on showing me this little surprise?”

“Why don’t you unwrap it first,” you murmur, grabbing his hand and guiding it to the hem of your shirt.

His breath hitches—something more carnal, more desperate settles itself into his skin, flushing it a hot shade of crimson along his cheeks and chest, radiating heat along his fingertips that sear into your skin as he works them under your shirt, grazing along your body until they finds your breasts.

He feels the lace, and instantly, he can tell it’s not one he recognizes. It’s new. Something he hasn’t seen yet—it makes him let out a sound of impatience, deep and guttural from his chest as he says huskily, “well, if I must do the work, then so be it.”

He rips your shirt clean off with one tug. It’s his shirt, actually, but you claim it as your own—and you take it very personally, too, when it’s split in two from his impatience.

“Wriothesley!” You scold, gasping as the cool air meets your skin while he discards the torn shreds of fabric.

“There’s more where that came from,” he assures, clicking his teeth as he bites into your neck and says lowly, “let me unwrap my present in peace. I had a long day.”

You roll your eyes, huffing but complying quietly as he admires the dark gray sitting pretty and perfect against your skin, cupping the curves of your breasts beautifully. Wriothesley takes his time, so unlike the impatience he has just moments ago, as he rakes his eyes over your skin slowly. The icy shade of his irises land on the clasp at the front, darkening into a more intense, lust filled shade as they settle on it with interest.

“Like it?” You hum, “Chiori designed it just for me.”

“Did she now?” He raises an eyebrow, trailing a finger along the edge of the padding, tracing the skin of your breast as it spills over the bra, grinning as goosebumps rise where his touch lingers. “I really owe her a proper thank you, don’t I? This’ll make my job a lot easier.”

“It was my idea,” you say petulantly, “what about my thanks?”

“Oh, sweetheart. That’s coming real, real soon.”

You gasp when his hand suddenly undoes the clasp, spilling your tits to the open, cool air of your room as he groans at the sight of your bare chest. He leans down, pressing a kiss to a nipple while you shiver under him.

“All this for me?” he murmurs, hot breath fanning over your skin and contrasting the coolness lingering in the air. “Got a new little set made just for me?”

You nod through a bitten lip, shuddering as he chuckles against you. “Thought you deserved it,” you shiver.

“You shouldn’t have. I might get spoiled, you know.”

“You don’t want to be?” You tease, cutting off yourself slightly with a soft hitch of breath when his rough hand cups the other tit, palm rubbing against a pert nipple and making your eyes flutter closed.

“Oh, I definitely don’t mind,” he flashes you a smooth, toothy grin, one with all too much sharp teeth and all too little shame. “I just think it’ll be a bit of trouble for you to keep up if you get me too spoiled, is all.”

“I don’t think it’s so bad,” you say cheekily, “it’s not exactly a one sided transaction.”

“Oh, I’ll make it worth your while, alright,” he nods—and finally, he wraps his lips around a hardened nipple, grazing his teeth along the nub as his tongue swirls around it, pulling a sweet, helpless little cry from you that shoots straight between his legs where his cock is already half hard.

His rough thumb works the other, rubbing along and pinching teasingly as he whine into his mouth that traps yours into a needy kiss. “Wr-wrio—”

“Yeah baby?” He chuckles, “got something you need’ta say? I’m listening, sweetheart.”

He most certainly is not listening, you want to scowl, because he cuts your words off by pulling a sharp gasp from you as he pinches harder at your clit, making your back arch into the touch as he chuckles. His teeth nip at your jaw, kissing along the skin as your hand cups the back of his head and tangles weak fingers to grasp at his hair.

“You are so….”

“So what?”

“So smug,” you huff, voice strained between pants, “I’m never doing anything nice for you again.”

“Aw, don’t say that, sweetheart,” he pouts theatrically, “you might hurt my feelings. And I didn’t even get to say thank you yet.”

As it seems, Wriothesley’s way of saying thank you is yet again yanking fabric straight off of you, ripping your pants right off your lower half in an unrestrained moment of impatience.

You think you’ll really have to have a chat about his brutish habits one of these days.

“You can’t say thank you by ripping my whole wardrobe,” you gasp, glaring at him with sharp eyes.

“Why would it tear so easily if it wasn’t meant to?” He wriggles his brows, lips curled in a smug, amused little grin that has you melting against the sheets with heat pooling impossibly hotter between your legs at the sight.

Regardless of your irritation at yet another ruined pair of sweats. The conversation can wait until later, though, you think.

“I can’t with you,” you huff.

“Luckily, you don’t have to do much with me, anyway,” he murmurs, lowering his hands to trail over the lacy fabric of your matching gray panties. He marvels at the sight of you, eyes hazy and unfocused as they stay stuck at the dampened spot between your legs. “I-I…I’ll do most of the work,” he stutters.

“Don’t rip these, okay?” You grin, “they cost me a good sum. Surprises aren’t cheap, you know.”

He closes his eyes, exhaling shakily as he mumbles, “you’re trying to kill me, huh?”

You giggle, blinking up at him innocently as you reply, “I’m trying to do something nice for you. You don’t think it’s nice?”

“I think it’s wonderful,” he spreads your legs, hovering between them as he eyes the wet, darkened patch of lace against your dripping cunt even closer, “I just can’t promise I’ll survive long enough to properly appreciate it.”

With that, he presses a kiss against your clit, right through the fabric as you whimper at the minimal contact, twitching into his touch as he laughs.

“Maybe you won’t either,” he flashes a toothy grin, making you huff, unamused.

“Don’t tease,” you scold, “you should be nice to me.”

“You’re right,” he nods, wrenching your thighs apart as he pulls your panties off enough to expose your needy pussy, but not enough to let them past your plush thighs. He like them there, decorating your skin like that for him to see even as he brushes his nose against your clit and kisses at your entrance.

The slick pooling between your legs coats his lips, earning a hum of approval from him as he murmurs, “so sweet. I love this sweet little pussy—don’t you?”

“Wr-wrio—oh, f-fuck,” you arch into him, a surprised gasp leaving your lips, swollen from biting. His tongue is flat against your clit, flicking back and forth against it as his fingers tease your folds, collecting your essence before slowly pressing into your walls.

“Taste so sweet,” he groans, “we don’t have anything like this at the cafeteria.”

“Oh my god,” you whine, slapping his shoulder as he chuckles against your cunt, the vibrations and the hot flash of his breath making you shake against him. “You are so filthy.”

“Yeah? And you’re not having a good time by it?” He challenges, fingers smearing your slick that coats the digits along your inner thigh, grinning as he adds, “you seem like you’re thoroughly enjoying it.”

“Wriothesley,” you plead desperately, “stop teasing. I need you—please.”

“Fuck,” he swears. There’s a harsh twitch of his cock through his pants at the utterly broken sound of your voice—it makes him sink his fingers in instantly before his lips wrap around your clit. “You got me, baby,” he murmurs between sucking on the bundle of nerves, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses against the swollen nub.

“Oh—y-yeah, like that,” you praise, hands finding his hair as your fingers wrap around his strands and tug him impossibly closer. You think he might drown in you—he thinks he might not find a better way to go. “Feels…feels so good, baby.”

He groans into your folds, lapping away at them as his fingers are replaced by his tongue, tasting the sweet, dripping essence of you. His hips grind against the mattress slightly, chasing the slightest bit of friction to relieve the unforgiving throb of his cock.

“M’gonna cum,” you whisper, shaky and broken.

“Then cum,” he demands, “for me.”

You do—like his words command your pleasure. As soon as he tells you to, your cunt flutters with short spasms, pleasure forcing your body into a stiff, tense form as your mouth falls open and your eyes roll back. His tongue works you through your high, traveling between flattening against your clit and fucking into your hole until you’re whining from sensitivity, pulling him away by the hair.

He pulls away. Lips smeared with your slick. Eyes unfocused and dark. Cheeks flushed and red. Hair messed up and plastered to his sweaty forehead.

He looks more fucked out than you, almost. Like he’s just been utterly blissed out to the point of being wrecked just by tasting you.

You giggle, tugging him up to hover over you as you let him pull you into a slow, sensual kiss. You can taste yourself on him. You don’t mind—not when it tastes like his love for you.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, “did you know that?”

“I had a hunch,” you breathe, “you seem to be rather enraptured by me.”

“I’m obsessed with you,” he gives you lazy grin.

You don’t answer—not with words, anyway. Instead, you offer him your reply in the form of a hand sneaking between your bodies, carving space between the press of him against you. Your hand rubs him through his pants, earning a low groan from him as he stiffens over you.

“Your clothes are in the way,” you pout.

He huffs a breathy chuckle through his stifled groans, eyes closed as he mumbles, “that’s a problem, huh?”

“A big one.”

“I can fix that, I think,” he hums.

Watching Wriothesley strip himself of his clothes is intimate. Undressing his scars is like holding a magnifying glass to his past, like studying every dark and hurtful era of his life under a microscope.

It’s nice to know he trusts you like that. It’s even nicer to know he wants to trust you like that. Aches to trust you like that. Needs you to let him trust you like that.

Your fingers run along the scar on his chest, and he shivers at the gentle (something he’s never been used to) feel of you.

“I love you,” you murmur.

“Getting sentimental on me?”

“Yeah,” you grin, “don’t like it?”

“Love it,” he laughs. And then he leans down, nose brushing against yours as he kisses you softer than he has yet to kiss you for the night. So delicate, you’d think you’d break. Maybe he’d break. You’re not sure who he’s trying to keep together at this point. “I love you.”

“Then take me,” you whisper, “I want you.”

His breath hitches at that. Something about the way you look at him makes him decide that taking you isn’t enough. He need to give himself up—needs you to accept him.

“Yeah? And I always want you, sweetheart,” he grins smoothly. Tucked away underneath that smooth, boyish, rough and rugged charm, Wriothesley is gentle. Delicate. Vulnerable.

You can see it in the way his hands shake as they grab your hips to help line himself up with your entrance.

“M’ready, Wrio,” you murmur, pulling him into a soft, open mouthed kiss as he presses his cock against your dripping entrance.

He’s hard—painfully, achingly, and unbearably impatient to feel him around him. The curve of his length has always fit you perfectly, nudged against the right spots and dragged along the perfect ridges of your walls without trying. He sinks into you slowly, inch by inch. Like he’s scared the moment will end too quickly if he goes any faster.

“You feel that?” He groans, once he’s fully pressed into you, buried to the hilt. “Feel what you do to me? You’ll be the death of me one day.”

“They’d get tired of you,” you breathe, strained voice from the way he’s practically splitting you open. “In the afterlife. Send you right back to me.”

He laughs, head burying into your neck before he roughly pulls out just to slam back into you. Once. Twice. Again. Another time. Once more. Until a steady, unwavering rhythm is built and his body is practically one with hours.

“Fuck,” he groans, letting out whiny little pants against your ear that make you question if you’ll near the edge again simply from the sound of him alone. “Fuck, sweetheart—you…you’re so perfect. Take me so nice, make me feel so good.”

“How good?” You ask shakily, voice a strangled, choked version of itself as his thrusts make your words quiver with every snap of his hips.

“Good enough to buy out that damn boutique,” he grunts, “get you every color. Every fabric. Every style. And then I’ll fuck you in all of them to see which one looks best, yeah? You like the sound of that? Think you can handle it? I bet you’d enjoy it, wouldn’t you, sweetheart?”

“Y-yeah,” you nod, eyes tearing at the corners as his fat tip presses against the spongy, sensitive spot against your walls, balls clapping against your ass as his pre cum mixes with your slick and leaves a mess between your bodies.

You don’t mind it though. You like the mess. You like the proof of him taking you, making you his, having you until your mind can’t think straight.

“Gonna need more than that,” he says lowly, biting your shoulder and making you whimper. “Use your words, baby.”

“Yes—yes,” you sob, “I want it. Want it, want it so bad. Want you to take me right there in that fitting room.”

“Oh?” He breathes out a small chuckle, “that’s quite the fantasy. I’ll see what I can do, baby.”

His thumb reaches to find your clit, rubbing harsh circles in sync with his low, strained voice as he calls you baby. You break at that—hurdle into your second orgasm while his fucks into you with a sloppier pace.

“Oh—g-god, Wriothesley! C-cumming,” you gasp.

“That’s my girl,” he groans, “yeah, yeah. Let me feel you, princess. Fuck.”

His hips are frenzied now—like the height of your pleasure being achieved lets him free, lets him stop holding back as he chases his own orgasm desperately.

It doesn’t take long. One tug of his hair from you to pull him out of your neck and into a heated kiss makes him fall off the edge himself, cock twitching and pouring thick, hot ropes of cum into your abused cunt. The aching pleasure between both of your legs should be too much.

It’s never quite enough.

There’s no enough of Wriothesley. He’s not sure there’ll ever be enough you, either.

“Fuck, fuck—you’re so good to me, baby. So sweet. Can’t believe you’re my sweet little thing. Come home to that pretty face and this perfect pussy. What’d I do to deserve it?”

He’s babbling, words falling from his tongue in cracked syllables as he paints your walls white. Finally—finally, after what feels like an eternity of over sensitivity, he stills. Milked dry with the remnants of his sticky release coating your walls, the insides of your thighs, the base of his cock. He doesn’t even bother pulling out—just collapses over your body as he buries his nose between your breasts.

“You think she could make a set that matches my cuffs?” He asks, grinning into your skin.

You huff between labored breaths, slapping his shoulder as you mumble, “I’m not asking that. I have a sense of dignity.”

“You want me to ask?”

“Absolutely not.”

He pouts, looking up at you as he grumbles, “you’re no fun.”

Wow. Don’t ask me why I produced 3k words about lingerie. I just have lots to say on the matter I suppose

[plugnuts]

Cecil Palmer is the fictional host and protagonist (sorta) of the podcast Welcome to Night Vale (which is done like a community radio broadcast of a weird, random, fun, creepy extradimensional town out in the Southwest somewhere). It was really popular on tumblr a few years ago, too, so Cecil was kinda one of the original tumblr sexymen.

Ooooo okay I get it now, I think! I only properly started using tumblr around 2018~2019 so yeah I think I missed that phase lol

But this helps!! I think I might actually check it out then, I’ll have to stick it on my list of things to look at lmao, it’s been growing sm recently. Absurdity and such is actually something that draws me in so that definitely sounds like it’s up my alley, thank you for all the info!!

[deadbeat-motel]

ᐯᗩGGIE ᗩᑎᗪ ᑕᕼᗩᖇᒪIE ᖇEᗪEᔕIGᑎ

These two are simpler than the angel dust design I did since I didn't have a lot to go off of. Posted on Valentine's Day because yes I can.

I don't think Charlie is significantly different from her Pilot design because I genuinely think it was the best design from the cast (before the redesign).

Thoughts below, though TW for the creepy charlie image at the end:

My issues with their Original designs:

Vaggie:

The giant "X" over her eye is really distracting and even world-breaking because

1. Why had no one put 2 and 2 together that the only character in Hell who has a visible 'X' mark on her face might be related to the angels who also sport that X mark on their faces.

2. Why is it shaped like an X? Her eye was taken out via a single slash.

3. If the hair's purpose was to cover it, why would it show through it? What's the point of the hair then?

The hair that was supposed to cover that wounded eye looked so ugly and confused as to what it should be doing. I mean every shot that showed that thing in a sideview shot of Vaggie felt like the animators had to make their own guesses as to how that was supposed to look like. It was distracting for me personally and I hated it so much.

It's been said over and over again, but her clothes look like she works at McDonalds. I get needing to change her outfit so that she looks like she works at the hotel, but it's just been poorly designed.

Why change her clothes' colors from white to red? the white helped her stand out from Hell and the Hotel's majority red background. (In the finale, she at least has a non-red attire)

She's also one of the very few women in HH and she falls under the skinny stick side of it despite being an angel exterminator.

Her hair is kind of hard to visualize looking at in any way other than what it is when it's static. However, when it changed into a ponytail or a bob, it's actually really nice to look at.

Unsure of what that bow's purpose is for the design.

Charlie:

Charlie is a simple but very confused design. The pilot design was a lot more coherent than the current show design

It's disappointing to see the bouncy Pilot hair go and be replaced by that boring bubble braid of all things.

Her undershirt peaks out of her tuxedo.... why???? to separate the top jacket and the pants? You wouldn't need to do that if her pants were a different color like the pilot design.

Thought about it and was confused, as a demon with an angelic father, why didn't she have wings as well? She didn't need the 6 wings like Lucifer but maybe a pair of one would appear?

Out of all the characters for the show's redesign, Her's was by far the MOST infuriating to me. Her pilot design wasn't perfect but it was good, they had to downgrade her for some reason.

I didn't have much to say about Charlie. it basically sums up to "the Pilot design was better".

On to the thought process for these two:

Valerie the fallen:

Yes, she got a rename. Sue me.

I had to remove the moth aspect of her design because it doesn't seem like it makes sense for a heaven-born to follow the sinner's rule of "gaining features based on the life you lived" since she basically never lived right?

In this redesign (and eventual rewrite), Valerie is not ashamed of her exterminator background. In fact, she was known as the most recent "fallen" in hell. her short stature doesn't make her less of a threat to the demons.

She's also visually thick with muscle because why not let one of the show's women have a body type that isn't stick-thin?

She's using the wings that were torn off of her as both an interesting article of clothing and as a way to remind others and her that she is (or more accurately 'was') an angel who could kill them if she wanted to.

Her clothes are pure black underneath the pale feathers to show that while she is an "angel", deep down, she is far from a good person.

She's also getting an actual skin color because from what I gathered myself from the show's heaven. Most of the souls there still retain a human appearance (Adam, Lute, St. Peter, and the other random human angels up there still look human..... but just don't mind the fact that most of them are white.)

Her hair is that ponytail she had in the finale because as much as I didn't like that episode, some designs looked actually decent.

Also, her hair actually covers the eye scar properly.

I wanted to keep her ribbon as a splash of brightness on her design but the OG ribbon looks a little out of place on a warrior so It became that (Plus it pays homage to her OG moth influence with its shape looking like the fluffy antennas of the moth)

Gave the spearhead a little bit of detail on it plus a chipped side so that it has a bit of charm as an old weapon she still decides to keep around.

A note about Valerie's design is that I haven't tackled the armor of angels yet so I was unsure of what pieces of the undesigned armor to give Valerie as of now.

Charlie:

I honestly actually enjoyed her Pilot hair, so I tried to put it back and also simplify it a bit so there are not a lot of strands for me to keep track of. Plus it was a genuinely cute design for her. (There's a reason that version was used in the Verbalase video.) <- I'M JOKING

Replaced her button nose with a goat's because a friend has commented how it looked like the noses of the women in a Goofy Movie and I will never be able to unsee that.

Her hair is also a lot brighter compared to her washed-out blonde color.

She has the same design thought process as Valerie, Covering the darkness of her true nature with white fluffy fur which is stylized like feathers at its ends. She has pitch-black skin underneath and looks like a proper nightmarish demon like the image below.

I ditched the tuxedo look, since almost all the cast has a similar outfit already, and gave her a jumpersuit instead. (Idk what it's really called but that's what I think it is). It's a light grey because she's a mix of bad and good (though a bright grey because she prefers to be on the good side)

Her horns are there and visible because yeah it's cute but also helps her read as the half-angel/half-demon character she is.

Tiny goat tail because can you imagine every time Valerie holds the rare angel smile of approval, her tail is visibly wagging in glee and excitement???? My heart would die. I love these lesbians with my life.

Has wings from her father.

Anyways, those are my thoughts and redesigns... I wanted to add more details to them but I didn't really know what to add that didn't feel unnecessary.

Also bonus! Concept art of Charlie's true form:

[animeshotsh]

Im going to eat you! (No) | V's x Kid!Reader HCS |

Hcs of your time with the V's during this.

Warnings: HH violence-cursing- Kid!Reader hates Valentino - Veelvet its mentioned but for just a moment - Vox inner thoughts of you - Vox has a crush on Alastor on this - Vox its down bad for Alastor and Lucifer -

Note: Because I saw one user saying reader did not bite Valentino and tbh valid.

When you saw what they were doing (well only the strange insect sinner the TV head had decided to be a by stander and to also catch you) what he was doing to Angel you were furious.

Oh, how you desired you could transform like your dad, sis or uncle but you were weak.

Fuck you for sending me to hell with no power.

However, you can still move as crazy as a sinner can and more with the sugar in your system thanks to the ice cream from earlier.

"W-wait a minute" The tv head tries to catch you again only to be head butted by Lucifer's lamb.

Who is also weak and is going to ask his creator for an update on its powers.

However back to you, you are running now towards that insect sinner who is not paying attention to no one but the poor Angel on the floor.

And so, you end on the sinners shoulder and bite hard on his arm. Your teeth getting sharper thanks to your angry feelings. In fact when Valentino tries to remove you, you are quick to go to his other arm and bite down again.

"FUCKING BITCH"

"Im going to eat you" you say with the most dangerous voice no one ever hear from you.

Angel its suprised for a second then almost loses his heart when Valentino pushes you off towards the floor. However, you are not done and end biting his leg too.

"THIS FUCKING BITCH, I SWEAR JUST WAIT TILL YOU GROW UP IM GOING TO PUT YOU IN SO MUCH PAIN DO YOU KNOW-"

"VAL!!" Vox calls his companion getting you off from the floor, having to use so much Force to prevent you from running again. "I need this one alive and mentally sane" when Vox sees that you are not getting any weak he sends a small shock of electrecity to you making you sleep.

"The fucker bite me, look" Valentino says offended showing the marks and blood you left.

"Its Alastor's kid, of course its going to try any sinner they can"

Again, Lucifer felt a shake in the Force.

Fast moving, they get to the V's tower. Valentino wants you away from him so he decides to take his anger on the poor souls that works for him.

Vox decides to tie you up just in case.

Seeing your sleeping form almost makes him go soft. You are not as terrible when you are not biting his companion's flesh off.

Also, he kind of claps to that, Val needs a reminder every now and then.

Vox wonders if Veelvet would like you, sure she does not make kid's clothes but maybe she could make something for you?

And maybe now Alastor would finally accept being part of the company because they have you hostage.

And no, Vox its not thinking about him and Alastor raising you....

Really he is not.

Ok maybe a little.

Later once you woke up and you two bond he can tell he is fucked because even if Alastor beats him up till death (oh pls do it he wishes) he want to keep you around.

You can watch Barney all you want, and you can bite Val anytime of the day. Really, you have his permission.

He cant remember if he ever wanted to be a father when he was alive but now the need to raise you is there.

Is this a demonic Power? Making overlords want to raise you and be your relatives? Who knows.

Later once its discover that you are Lucifer's kid, and how you still try to get him to show the king of hell ducks....

Fuck stop helping him!! He does not want to see you go but he cant fight hell's king.

Oh, and when Alastor treated him finally.

He thanks you for that.

He later has to deal with Val and Veelvet because they cant do business for 2 weeks.

And so, Vox ends sleeping hugging his Alastor's pillow and also thinking on getting one of the king himself.

Would you mind 3 dads ?

[after-witch]

With Your Heartbeat Next to Mine [Yandere Mahito x Reader]

Title: With Your Heartbeat Next to Mine [Yandere Mahito x Reader]

Synopsis: You were lying to yourself if you claimed to think Mahito would be satisfied with kisses and late-night snuggles on the couch.

Word count: 1220ish

Notes: yandere, possessiveness, implied dubcon, talks of virginity, self-blame for unwanted advances, Mahito in general

Mahito steps forward, and you’re trapped between the unusual coolness of his body and your bedroom wall. One of your posters--some sun-faded thing leftover from your school years--crinkles against your back. You hope it doesn’t rip, and then you’re back to worrying about more important things.

Like the fact that Mahito wants you to have sex. Tonight. Today. Right now. 

“It’s just--I’m not ready,” you say, lips dry, stammering stupidly. “I’m a--I mean, I’ve never… I haven’t…”

Mahito quirks his head, and then grins, all teeth and salaciousness. “Oh-hh. You’re a virgin, then?” When you don’t answer, he pokes the end of your nose with a finger. “I read about it. It doesn’t matter to me. Humans attach importance to silly things, don’t they?”

Something like humiliation and hurt puffs up in you. He doesn’t take anything seriously, at least not when it comes to you. It’s never bothered you too much. It was part of the charm, the game, of being with someone like him.

But this is… different. Isn’t it? And it bothers you, deep down, even though you really forfeited all rights to any sort of normal relationship expectations the moment you willingly kissed a literal curse. 

“It’s not silly.” 

Your eyebrows furrow and you think back to fumbled romances from before Mahito. Awkward make-out sessions on the couch that always ended in you telling your dates that you weren’t ready to go that far, and they either smoothly accepted it and got their time’s worth with sloppy kisses and gropes or got the hell out of dodge, and you’re not sure which was more hurtful in the end. 

And then came Mahito. And he was different.  And a curse. And you were in something-like-a-relationship with him, but you didn’t know what to call it when the person you were seeing couldn’t be seen by anyone around you and he tortured people (to death, or not, and you definitely knew which one was worse in that case) for fun and “science” and you, sick and selfish thing, still loved the way he pressed kisses up your neck to feel your heartbeat or yanked your bottoms down to taste what was underneath or simply held you all night while you watched movies. 

And now he wants to push you down onto your bed and fuck you, and you don’t know what to do or say.  You don’t want it, but you knew it was coming, like it always does in any relationship. Was it any wonder that it came, too, in this one? 

Mahito puffs air in your face and you flinch, startled out of your thoughts. 

“Where’d you go, hmm?” You feel his fingers on your chin and you know what’s coming when one of them slides along your lips.  One of Mahito’s fingers hooks onto the side of your mouth, and if you weren’t used to him playing around with your body like it was a lump of clay, it would have bothered you. Instead you wonder when he last washed his hands, even as he stretches your lip upward, a mockery of a half-smile.

“Humans are silly. You’re silly,” he says, all matter-of-fact. Then he sighs, put-off or tired or just pretending to be in order to make himself more palatable, more humanesque, to you. You can never tell with him, and that’s part of the thrill. “Is it because you…” 

He releases your lips and taps his chin, putting on a show as he thinks for a moment, digging out information from whatever well of knowledge he stores things in. He normally pulls out trivia about humanity that would be better suited to some sort of criminology class. But today it’s something far less morbid, though hardly any less anxiety-inducing.

“Are you saving yourself for marriage? Is that why you don’t want to have sex?”

Your cheeks feel impossibly hot. 

You shake your head, looking down, unable to look at him. He never has a problem staring at you for what always feels like a terribly long time. Sometimes he does it so you’ll give him the answer he wants. Other times, it’s to study you--or that’s what you think, anyway. 

Mahito pouts. “Oh. Darn. I was thinking we might have a wedding, if that was the case. I’ve always admired those pretty dresses in the windows.” He sighs again. “Probably couldn’t invite him, though, anyway. He wouldn’t approve.” He smiles again, bright and peppy, all imitations of tiredness tossed aside like an old coat. “Did you know he wanted me to kill you the first time I brought you up?” 

You nod, because Mahito has had no problem telling you that his companions think he should have killed you a long time ago, and sometimes he thinks about it. But then he remembers how much fun you have together, so he puts it off for another day.

And the thought hits you like lead: If you won’t have sex with him, will he kill you? Will refusing make you too annoying or boring to put up with? Or is it better to say no and keep up the chase, make him fight for you? It was almost dizzying, the way relationship games became serious with Mahito around. A regular guy might just break up with you. Mahito might just break your neck.  

“Then… oh!” His expression brightens and he looks so sweet like this that you can almost forget what he is and what you’re doing with him. Almost. “You’re worried about the pain.” He nods, a mockery of sage wisdom. “I’ve read about that, too. He tilts his head back a little. “In novels. It’s cute…”

“You’re cute,” he says, and that’s a good sign--right?--because it means he still wants you. And you’re at least another step farther from being turned into some awful experiment in a sewer. 

His lips press against your ear, and his voice is too close and he’s too close, but you signed up for this when you let him in your life, didn’t you? You let him hold you and kiss you and if you didn’t think he’d eventually want more,  you were lying to yourself. 

“Don’t worry,” he murmurs, and it does nothing but make you worry more. “I’ll be gentle.”

The most awful thing of all is that you can't tell if he's being genuine or not.

He grins, a sticky smile that oozes an awful dark pressure that makes your stomach clench. It would be better, you think, to do what he wants. Since he seems to want it so much. And… you should be flattered, if anything. Right? Be flattered. Be grateful. Appreciate that some all-powerful curse wants to press you into a mattress and have sex with your body and pull out your mewls and moans like he’s done before, albeit in a far less intimidating fashion. 

Mahito presses a chaste kiss to the end of your nose, then pulls back to examine your expression. 

“That’s what I’m supposed to say, isn’t it?” His fingers card through your hair up your scalp, scratching just a little too hard to feel nice. “So you don’t fight as much?”

You swallow, and your throat is so tight that your spit might as well be needles. 

Mahito, not wanting for an answer, presses his hands against your shoulder and pushes you harder against the wall as he moves in for a hungry kiss. Behind you, the poster rips. 

[kinopio-writes]

HH Characters x Physically Affectionate!Reader (Pt.1)

A/N: I don’t know why I decided to do this, considering I have three (requested) posts collecting dust in my drafts (along with an additional new one), but here you go. I’ve been feeling pretty unmotivated to write anything, so I settled on headcanons since that’s more easier to write for me.

Warnings: None

———

Charlie Morningstar

• she’d be a little surprised since she’s usually the one who initiates it

• but she gets over with it quickly and becomes really giddy about it

• you two go, “Mmm!” every time you hug (not a high-pitched “Mm!”, more like—“MMMM!!”. It likely depends)

• she’d probably give you tons of hugs after each exercise, especially if you did well (and if you’re a patron, that is)

• she also probably gives you quick and several pecks on the face

• she doesn’t really have a favorite one, but she loves being held

• overall, probably the best one to be affectionate over

———

Vaggie

• generally, she doesn’t like touch that much

• but if she likes you enough, she’s fine with mild touching (like on the shoulder)

• if you’re together, then by all means

• she’s usually the one who initiates it, though

• but unlike you, who’s so restless about it, she’s more on the casual side of affection

• she also doesn’t really have a favorite but loves holding you a ton

———

Angel Dust

• touched-starved, probably

• but that of course doesn’t mean he’s fine with you getting all handsy with him

• like, woah, lay off the merchandise! He doesn’t come for free

• he gets pretty confused if you do it without an ulterior motive of wanting something more

• but once he gets used to it, he loves receiving back rubs from you after a long day at work

• he also melts at any tender affection from you

———

Alastor

• very obviously differs if you’re a woman or a man (non-binary and others are in between, I think)

• he’s more tolerant if you initiate it out of nowhere and you’re a woman, even if you two aren’t that close (as long as you’re not someone like Susan)

• flirtatious intent will not be put up with, however

• actually, depending on what you do, it might go past his head and he’d think it’s just all innocent

• if it’s obvious, he’d either get uncomfortable or he’d hide the fact he’s uncomfortable (depends if he didn’t expect it from you)

• if the touching is what Angel Dust would do, radio static suddenly starts to play

• if you’re a guy, don’t even try, lol

———

Husk

• if it’s too early in the relationship (not romantic, just in general), he would be hissing at you—possibly growling

• but if you’re the type to be affectionate after getting close with someone, he doesn’t mind all too much

• he’s fine with anything just as long as you don’t try to do all those things while he’s busy as the bartender

• don’t try to overdo it in public, either

• in private, however, he’s all yours

• he loves it when you give him shoulder massages or back rubs

———

Niffty

• she doesn’t mind at all

• by at all, I mean at all

• but she usually initiates it, though

• mostly by climbing on top of you like a tree gremlin

• her favorite is when you pick her up and let her sit on your shoulder or head

• if you’re short enough, she loves holding onto your hand

[beatrixstonehill2]

"Thanks to my dad for filming this awesome, super hot send off to my breasts, which are getting removed today! Gotta make them nice and clean for the med students at the University of Charleston! I wouldn't want them to be all sweaty and gross after I masturbated all morning picturing my big gorgeous tits getting picked apart for someone's college assignment. Why am I losing my boobs, you may ask? Well, I got a letter in the mail last week saying that my breasts were the ideal size to be worked on by students at this University.

I kept getting surveys on my social media about my bra size and overall satisfaction with my breasts, and if I was worried they might 'be cancerous'. I have big boobs so stuff like this is common. I always answered honestly, I'm a HH-Cup and growing, that I like my breasts but feel they're probably too large, and that I'm very worried they probably have cancerous growths. Like why else are they so big???? That's what my doctor kept telling me anyway, that they're highly likely to be 'acutely cancerous'. Random men stop me when I'm out jogging and offer to give me breast exams because my boobs are so big it's concerning to them, I guess. They really grab and squeeze my boobs until they ache but I know they're professionals and know what they're doing, they tell me they're medical specialists or surgeons and a lot of them politely offer to escort me to their clinic or house to remove my breasts because they can feel 'all kinds of cysts and tumors in them'. I don't feel any lumps but they're the experts. I always politely decline...... until now, anyway.

The letter was really official looking and says I've been selected because of my untreated condition and it's irresponsible not to have my cancerous growths removed, which is what the letter calls my boobs. I called and they set up the appointment. My breasts are to be removed in front of an auditorium, the procedure being judged by the students' professor of surgery. So I called the university and they said they find candidates based on surveys like the ones I took on Instagram and TikTok. Apparently my videos are getting shared in various medical groups where surgeons make comments about how badly they want to remove my breasts and how they'd do anything to bring me to their shed or basement and remove them, don't know why they don't say clinic, I guess these surgeons work from home, maybe? But seeing their comments was such a wake up call about how badly I need to do this! They seem so eager to help me lose my 'cancer bags' as they put it. I always thought my breasts were sexy but they find them gross and unhealthy, I guess.....

So, I don't have much choice. I'll be detained if I don't fulfill my appointment with the University, it says in the letter, and the lady at the desk in the University said the same thing. I could go to jail for denying the students their ability to complete their project, and I could be fined on top of jail time. So I need to finally stop being so selfish by keeping these big bouncy tumor sacks of mine and let these students dismantle them for their big project. A bunch of other girls were picked so I won't be alone. It'll be kinda nice watching them go through the same thing and get their boobs taken apart and tossed in the trash. Only trouble is now that I got picked I'm getting a bunch more surveys..... some are asking if I'm satisfied with my clit, if I feel like I need to masturbate too frequently, and if I'd be willing to try out having it removed someday...... Other surveys are asking all kinds of other questions, about my limbs, even my uterus! I dunno..... daddy just says to answer honestly and he'll happily stand by me no matter what and film more before/after vids and tributes to whatever the university needs my body for....."

[lordvikdreemurr]

Love potion<3 |Vox x Reader

TW: suggestive. gender neutral ig?

Vox accidentally drinks Velvettes potion ?

Your day was so boring, you really had nothing to do. No one had heard from Vox all day. It was pretty weird because he was always there to check your work.

You weren't really complaining actually. You were looking at your phone, you raised your head to meet Papermint's gaze. "Oh! Hey ? Have you seen Mr.Vox anywhere?" He shrugged and replied "No. Didn't see him. I came to ask you if you didn't mind checking if he was okay ?"

You raised an eyebrow, annoyed. Putting your phone away you answered. "Why me ? Maybe he's just busy, mint." He looked at you a little desperate at your attitude and in the end you sighed deeply. "Okay okay! I'll go. Where ?"

"The Vees place ?"

"No way! I'm no—"

"C'mon. He ain't gon be mad at you for checking up on him."

"..."

Now you were in front of that stupid door, debating whether you should knock or not.

"Y/N?..."

You gasped and turned around to face your boss. He looked at you and the first thing you noticed were his pupils, they were heart shaped. Was that a new update on his screen ? "Sir! Sorry. I just wanted to check up on you !"

Vox seemed strangely not bothered and moved closer to you. You had your back pressed against the door a little confused. He leaned down, his face close to yours. "How cute... You're worried for me, huh?"

He whispered seductively to you, placing his hands on your waist. "A—hh..Uhmm...Yeah ?" He smirked, moving you aside to open the door and grabbed your hand to pull you in. He closed the door behind him and took you into the living room, you were a little surprised and didn't really expect that. Pepermint. You were going to get him for getting you into this situation.

Vox pushed you onto the couch and you widened your eyes. He climbed on the couch too and got on top of you, smiling. "Sir !? What are y—" "Shh.. Y'know.." He leaned down. "I got real lonely without you by my side, Y/N..." He said it so... Suggestively. Was he flirting with his employee ? Maybe he was just drunk, would explain the heart shaped pupils and the digital blush he displayed on his screen.

"Sir. This is inappropriate..." He clearly wasn't pleased by your reply and kissed you without warning, forcing his tongue in your mouth to meet yours in a heated dance. You blushed softly, caught off guard by his behavior.

You flinched as you felt his hand traveling down to grab your hip and making its way under your shirt. He pulled away, his breath heavy and a small smile on his lips.

"Don't worry, honey. Stay still, I'll be gentle."

[yourmommy600]

Worship me~

submissive priest miguel x dominant God male reader

Warning: mouth fucking dirty talk gay sumt 😘

Summary: miguel is a priest, and you're a God miguel worships, and he's been dreaming about having your big ass fucking cock in his ass so now he's doing his job and the need for your cock becomes unbearable and he falls to his knees for your cock

(Lord, save me 🥲)

3d pov.

Another day of saving people of their sins, miguel was tried, but the desire for something more from his lord under Miguel's Robe his cock throbbed in need miguel tried listening to the sinner and their sins but Miguel's cock was crying for relief miguel palmed himself his thighs clinched around his hand as his other hand covered his mouth mumbling his moans

and crys Miguel's eyes rolled into the back of his head but it was cut short by the sinner "thank you father" they said and miguel snapped out of it "y-yes of course my child you may go" miguel said and tried keeping his composer when he heard footsteps leave miguel sighed quietly how..? Why...he shouldn't want his

lord its wrong..but he couldn't help it he panted heavily his lips parted miguel stoked his dick "a-hh~" he moaned his other hand grabbed his phone he checked the time and his eyes widened 12:17 'SHIT' miguel thought it's was time for him to pray to his lord he cleaned himself and walked

out his buth he started walking to the main part of the church he stopped and fell to his knees weakly as balck smoke appeared then disappeared revealing you miguel hid his panting and he put his thighs together to hid his throbbing cock you chuckled and used your

fingertip to make miguel look up at you "hello~" you said in a teasing tone something you never before it made miguel very aroused "hi my lord" miguel replied and smiled sweetly up at you his body shaked you thought it was fear but no oh no it was way off you frowned and stroked Miguel's hair "you know not to be scared of me love" you said calmly miguel moaned quietly luckily you didn't hear it "im- not scared i- just want more" he whispered you tilted your head to side in Confusion

"What is it you want?" You asked, and miguel rubbed his hands against your inner thighs."I want... you, " miguel mumbled. You grinned and grabbed his hair, pulling it. "Oh really? Of course you do~ you fucking slut" you growled and miguel moaned "yes! Please...I want you, " miguel begged and whimpered quietly. You grinned wide and bent down and grabbed Miguel's face

"Open your mouth," you said, and miguel nodded eagerly. As you pulled away, he opened his mouth, miguel watched as you took off your pants and your cock fell against his face miguel miguel was taken a back by its lage size miguel wrapped his hand around your shaft he stroked it for a second before he put the tip in his mouth miguel rubbed his tongue against your tip making you growl getting inpatient you grip his hair forcefully pulled Miguel's head down further onto your cock miguel put his hands on your hips tears fall as your cock pressed against the back of his throat he made noises as you fucked his throat "ahh fuck you like hm? You little whore" you said and Miguel's eyes rolled to the back of his head nodding slightly you smiled

"Good~" you purred and pulled Miguel's mouth off your dick "now get ready," you command. miguel nodded and got up he walked to a bench in the room, and he leaned against the thing with his ass in the air, inviting you in you chuckled and walked over you press your dick against his ass he moaned as you tugged off his pants and boxers you grabbed his hips and slipped your cock inside Miguel's ass he gasped

As you did so your long thick cock hit his prostate and he cried "ahh- mmm~!" He moaned you chuckled and started thrusting aggressively into Miguel's ass he was stunned by your aggressive thrusts not giving him time to adjust tears fell down his face as his claws clawed at the bench "ah-hhh~!!! Y/n~~~" he moaned he wasn't quite at all

You grip the benchs headboard as leverage to thrust deeper and harder, making miguel shake. "Yeah? That's my name slut say it" you said lowly and miguel bit his bottom lip "o-ohh~~~!!! F-uck~! Y/n please~!" Miguel roared in pleasure you laughed and thrusted harder "yes...you like being fucked huh? You dirty cunt" you whispered as miguel Squirmed underneath you moaning and begging you let out a low chuckle and you griped his hips "oh look at you so sluty and submissive" you say miguel whimpered in response your cock bulge against Miguel's stomach

"yesss-~! I'm your- slut~~!!!" Miguel cried. You giggled and slammed into his ass with no mercy. miguel gasped as you grabbed his legs, pulling them up against his shoulders he gave you a glance before he leaned his head back on your shoulder. You grinned devilishly your cock only banged against his insides Stretching him miguel cried "ah-hh-~!!! Plea..se~! Stop-....your going~! To explode my insides!!" Miguel pleased but why should you? You wanted to break him, so you thrusted harder, ignoring his crys.

"Why should I? You're a dirty cunt who should be punished" you said and miguel moaned "wha-...ahhh~!" Miguel stumbled upon words he couldn't form words your powerful thrusts broke him badly all he could do was cry and moan it went on for hours miguel couldn't feel any of his limps his crys went quiet he looked at his stomach that your cock was fucking mercilessly not mercy or empathy from you miguel had cumed 7 times and you haven't cum once!

He could feel your cock twitch deep inside him he panicked "n-...no please~! Ah- i cant..~ handle anymore~!!!" he cried hot tears falling out his eyes like a storm you felt a bit bad but you didn't want to listen to him and have your cum all up in him but he really couldn't handle it you decide to pity him as you got closer to your climax you slow down you pulled out.

And your hot thick cum spilled out your cock miguel panted heavily his eyes fell hard and he fell asleep you hummed and looked at miguel sleeping you smiled and kissed his cheek you cleaned him up and dressed him you teleported inside his room and you gently put him down on his bed before leaving him there.

Haha......why? Why do I do this to myself, but he's so hot....and I love reading with him begging for readers dick why? Why.....

I hope you enjoyed 😉

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

Hey, can you explain to me like I’m 12 what Vivzie did irl? I’ve seen a lot of allegations and refutations to said allegations that make me confused as to what is actually happening or what ppl are angry at since I’m not really in either hh or helluva boss fandoms? Sorry if this is weird or annoying and feel free not to answer if you don’t want to

Hello! I put a lot of things vivzie has done in my critical posts so you can look at my long character post analysis things if you want more in depth things, but let me try to make this as digestible as possible. And of course I can’t list everything theres way too much but I’ll do what I can.

1. Defended her story board artist (Raph) with a rape fetish who uses Angel Dust to fuel said rape fetish. If you do not believe me (anyone reading this) Raph also made a fan animation to the song Valentino which was ORIGINALLY a somg about Vox being abused as well as Angel. Raph removed the aspect of Vox being abused and changed it to where Vox jerks off to Angel getting raped. This is still the same person Vivzie actively considers a friend a wonderful employee. And before anyone says it. No. “They’re coping” isn’t an excuse.

2. Vivzie retweets Angel x Valentino fanart

3. Vivzie was discovered to have a public YouTube playlist labeled “favorites” that included videos that involved women being sexually assaulted. Whether these were skits or real, I dont care and its disgusting either way.

4. Drew a Hitler “Sausage Party” OC. This was a while ago but worth mentioning

5. Does not pay her employees fairly.

6. Shit talks other indie artists and show runners constantly.

7. Demonising “voodoo” (vodou) by making it a “scary evil” magic Alastor used and then tried to excuse it by saying Alastor is black.

There’s much more competent people with screenshots and such on here if you want to look these up for more information! Id suggest staying out and away from hh/hb if possible so seems like you’re doing well. Hopefully this helps!

[ghost-whump]

Shower Day

CW: kidnapped whumpee, defiant whumpee, sadistic whumper, waterboarding(?), hypothermia (mentioned), nudity (mentioned), let me know if I missed anything!

Whumper entered the basement with loud, clunking steps down the stairs. They flick the light on when they reach the bottom.

“Hh—” Whumpee hissed and covered their eyes, heavy manacles pressing coldly into their cheeks. “Fucking hell.”

“Rise and shine, fuckface.”

With a drawn out groan, Whumpee blinked until the light wasn’t so painful. They scooted farther back into “their” corner of the basement, drawing closer to the wall, as if they could be absorbed into it.

They turned to face the wall, the smallest act of defiance they could express, “Go away.”

“No can do, Whumpee,” Whumper’s footsteps grew closer, “It’s shower day for you.”

That perked them up. A shower? A real, honest-to-god shower? Hot damn, that sounded good! Whumpee managed the barest hint of a smile at the prospect. Their hair, caked with blood and grease and other various substances, grew unbearably thick and disgusting to even think about. And that’s not even mentioning their soiled clothes.

Rubbing at their eyes, Whumpee brought themselves to turn around. And their smile dropped.

Whumper held a hose and a bucket.

At their pained expression, Whumper chuckled, “Oh? You thought you got a real shower?” They put the bucket on the floor and took a step closer, “Sorry for the mislead, Whumpee.”

The water hit them suddenly. Frigid, icy water hit their skin like a jet — definitely enough force to bruise, at least. They cried out, futilely holding their arms out in front of them. The cold water sprayed onto their body like bullets, dousing their hair and clothes all in less than a minute.

Then, the water tapered off.

Whumpee spit some water out of their mouth. It tasted like shit, nothing like the refreshing hose water they’d had as a kid.

“Whoops.” Whumper smiled.

Then it started again. This time, with so much pressure, Whumpee was knocked back into the wall. The hose turned off.

Whumpee heaved, “Fuck yo—ACK!”

Over and over, the water turned on and off, on and off, on and off. Friction burns raised on their arms from where they tried to protect themselves. The chill of the cool, stagnant basement air started to seep into their skin, sending a shiver through their whole body.

“That should be good.” Whumper dropped the hose to the floor (much to Whumpee’s relief) and turned their attention towards the bucket. They pulled out a gray towel and turned back. “Give me your clothes now, Whumpee.”

They stood there, shivering. “What?”

“You heard me — give me your clothes. They’re all soaked now.” Though they spoke pragmatically, their grinning leer said anything but.

“Fuck n-no. I-I’m not getting n-naked in front of you.” Their teeth chattered loudly, telegraphing how cold they really were.

Whumper turned around, picking the bucket back up. “Fine, then. No towel for you, I guess.” They started back towards the stairs, “A shame, really. I had it heated up on the radiator and everything. It’s supposed to be even colder tonight, too. I’d hate to have my poor Whumpee freeze…”

Whumpee remained silent.

“Well, goodnight, Whumpee.” They flipped the lights off.

“W-Wait!”

The lights turned back on as quick as they shut off. Whumper turned, so so slowly. “What do you say?”

“Pl-please?”

this has been sitting in my drafts for SOOO long and i’ve never posted it. since i haven’t written anything in a while, i thought i might as well post it lol

thank for reading!!!

General Tag: @morning-star-whump

[d6volution]

Caning with... Caine.

caine/gn!reader

reader can't help but try and seduce their way into the ringmasters pants. unfortunately, things don't work out well for them.

tags: caning, impact play, crying, slightly mean caine, no aftercare.

art creds.

You reap what you sow is how the saying goes right?

You'd been purposely tying to seduce the ringmaster all week. He caught wind of it rather quickly. Not only of your inappropriate actions but your clothes too. They stuck to your body too tightly or showed too much skin.

You honestly didn't even know if your seduction tactics would work... he wasn't human, after all.

And if that was the case, would it explain why this so-called punishment of his felt ridiculously intimate?

"C.. Caine, is this really necessary..?" you asked, arms struggling and wiggling in the binds he so acutely tethered in the famous box tie. The silky red ribbons he used were soft but firm and tight against your skin. He had you bent over his desk. Face pressed against the cold oak.

"Certainly, pain is the best teacher after all!" He said with enthusiasm. The tip of his cane was rolling against the fat of your ass. "Oh, and don't you worry, y/n! I'm sure after this you'll be in perfect shape to rejoin the others."

"Now... keep count for me, dear." His voice seemed to get low, sending a chill down your spine.

He wasted no time. The wooden cane smacked your rear , causing it to jiggle deliciously. Caine's eyes were glued to your ass. You flinched and could hardly contain the yelp that pried itself past your lips. "O.. One—"

Whack! The sturdy cane made contact with your skin before you could finish speaking.

You whimpered like a wounded babe, lips stuttering out, "T.. Two." Your ass was already on fire, and you squirmed as your body tried to brace itself for another, "Come now, y/n , where did all that fiery energy go? Perhaps the only thing your little head is good for is conjuring up unseemly thoughts, hmm?" He hummed, before— whack!whack!whack!

You cried out, and apologies spilled from your lips. You felt your eyes glossing over with tears.

"Hh—hhn..! m'sorry.. c..caine.. please..!" You whimpered, and your legs threatened to give out, shaking as you tried to steady yourself against the desk that was now wet with your tears. But it was hard to do with your arms quite literally tied behind your back. He'd only just started, and you were hardly hanging on. The force he put behind those hits was lethal. Yet you felt a familiar warm sensation pooling in between your legs.. punishment or not, you were finally receiving attention from him.

Caine tutted in disappointment, "I asked you to count, not for a shallow apology, sweetheart." The cane dropped down on your ass once more, and you could hardly think of where you left off. Every number you missed or messed up was an added hit.

You couldn't see the expression he wore on his face from behind you. He looked hungry. Eager to hear more of your yelps, yearning to see your legs tremble as the welts on your ass grew.

"I'm afraid you're only making this harder for yourself—" A strange noise emitted from behind you, where Caine stood. It was the ring of his iconic wacky watch.

"My my! An alert at this time of day! I see.. saved by the bell then, y/n!" He said with the old enthusiasm he harbored from earlier. The ringmaster snaps his fingers, and your binds are released just like that. You crumble to the floor, and Caine simply watches, "Bubble, take care of them and see that they get to their room uninterrupted, will you? I think our little troublemaker here has learned their lesson." Caine said whilst using the end of his cane to tilt your head up to look at him. This exchange lasted for a moment before he removed the cane.

"Anyways! I have very important matters to tend to!" And with that, he disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Of course, this was all a lie.

A ruse, so he could put as much space between you and the sudden tightness of his pants.

You were certainly turning out to be more trouble than he bargained for.

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

YBF Peter x reader who successfully escapes? preferably by train for more suspense. like peter is just watch reader get in the train right as it takes off, and he’s so mad but like he looks heartbroken and reader is just happy to be away, but even WORSE, reader runs away with another lover? and maybe that lover is on the train too?

( going back to your touch of glass fanfic, maybe that character is Alastor :0 )

i love you so much for this, MWUAH. But seriously Peter would be LIVID.

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior! Yandere! Mentions of harm! Implications of sexual themes! Mentions of money struggles! Abuse!

ੈ✩‧₊˚𝙉𝘼𝙑𝙄𝙂𝘼𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉 *ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝙈𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏 HH & YBFੈ✩‧₊˚ * Part two is here!

songs you can play while listening: Kill Bill Remix with SZA & Doja Cat. At my Weakest by James Arthur. Vampire by Olivia Rodrigo. Nobody by Mitski. Cold Shoulder by Adele. Mind by MillSoundBeatz. Creep by Radiohead. Me and your mama by Childish Gambino.

𝑺𝒍𝒊𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒔

It had started off simple enough. Peter was always having problems with his central air in his apartment. So, the súper of his complex would come to fix it. That’s where Husk came in.

Peter, at first, would wait around watching you while Husk did what he needed to do. Going over prices with Peter, checking the vents in each room, doing his usual checkup on the apartment. Husk didn’t speak much, hardly ever. He didn’t even bat an eye to Y/n. Or so she thought. Because of this, Peter didn’t see Husk as a threat, mainly because he wasn’t. But his employer was.

Alastor was the owner of the complex, running things after his mother had signed all the rights of the property over to him. With his growing fame he was able to keep it nice. Every once in a while he liked taking a walk around the property. This is how he meets you. Husk informs Alastor he needs to fix Peters central air again, and Alastor insists on going. With a few phone calls, Peter tells Husk you’ll be at the apartment to let him in, Peters out for the day.

Alastor walks into the apartment and immediately he finds you, sitting quietly while showing Husk the problem. But he can feel it, somethings off, somethings wrong here. So he goes snooping, and what does he find?

Dirtied clothes, blood on the bedsheets, he can see bruises from where your clothes don’t cover, and he puts the pieces together. You’re being abused, simple as that. Now, Alastor can’t really evict Peter, he pays his rent on time, and aside from the central air unit going down more than he’d like, it’s not uncommon. So, he decides to try speaking with you.

Then you break, you begin sobbing the moment Alastor asks if you’re okay. Husk moves to lock the front door of the apartment while you whisper to Alastor everything goin on, all in a frenzy. Your panicking, scared. Alastor feels bad, or as bad as he can feel for you.

So he comes up with a plan. He sits with you, and he has Husk break other things around the apartment, not too urgent but enough to catch attention of the damage, this way Husk and Alastor have a reason to keep coming back.

“Here’s what we’re going to do” Alastor says, sitting you down. You nod listening intently. “Why don’t I get you a train ticket, wherever you want. You’ll need to take multiple trains though, this way he doesn’t find you.” Alastor says, looking around the apartment a second. “ I’ll go with you, and we can get you settled somewhere else. New name, new life. How does that work for you?” He asks, and you nod your head.

“Anything is better than here. Please just get me out.” You beg, and Alastor nods.

“Play nice for a month. I’ll work out the details, and I’ll come back with Husk for repairs.” Alastor says as he nods to Husk, who nods back. “In the meantime, try gaining his trust. We’ll schedule a day where we need to repair, one where Peter isn’t here. You’ll gather your things, or whatever you can take, and we’ll leave.” Alastor says and you nod, desperate. Finally, finally someone helps.

The month feels long. Having to cuddle with Peter, having to reassure him you love him. That you would never leave him, that he’s your world. It made you want to throw up inside, but at least his trust was growing.

Sometimes you’d cry to him to sell the act, telling him you just wanted to be happy together, that you wanted a family with him. That you loved him more than anything. Then, the day finally came.

“The super is coming to fix the loose pipe under the sink, I have to go out and run a few errands, so I need you to make food for when I get back.” He says, giving you a kiss goodbye before leaving. You wait a while, maybe thirty minutes before Husk and Alastor show up. Husk gets to work on the pipe while Alastor helps take your things to his car. Alastor had used Peters laptop to make sure the train was leaving on time, before the two of you got in his car leaving.

Husk had waited outside the apartment, watching Peter walk in from his hiding spot. From outside, things could be heard thrown around.

“Y/n? What happened to the food?” Peter asks, walking around the apartment. He checks the bathroom, you aren’t there. Bedroom, you aren’t there. He’s starting to panic. Did he get too careless? Maybe you just stepped out, you’ll be back right?

Until he hears a beep from his laptop. It’s dying. He checks the screen, seeing several tabs open. The train time is up on the screen, and he’s silent for a minute. All he can think is how dare you, how could you do this to him? Maybe your testing him, testing his love. Testing to see how far he’d go for you. He grabs his keys off the counter and dashes out the door. He’s going to get you. He has thirty minutes left. It’s three fifty nine, meaning the train should leave around four thirty. Its a fifteen minute drive from his apartment to the train station, if he speeds up it can get to ten.

Husk calls Alastor in a panic, the two of you just passing through metal detectors.

“Hello?” Alastor asks as he begins to fix his watch back onto his wrist.

“He just left the apartment. He’s pissed.” Husk said, slight worry in his voice. Alastor looks over you while you fix your shoes, not noticing a thing.

“We’ll be fine. The train leaves soon and it’s a line before we get on. He can’t get us there.” Alastor says calmly, not wanting to scare you.

The two of you go through security fine and are at the end of the line. Gates begin to close, and it’s only when you hear shouting that you get nervous. Alastor is allowed on the train before you, considering you had more things. But, in the distance, you hear frantic shouting and things crashing. You turn around and there’s Peter, running like a mad man through security, calling your name.

“Miss do you know him?” The worker asks you and you shake your head. Quickly, the train begins to move, and you panick as your things are finally locked on. You had taken too long to get on. Now running down the station you get close enough to the stairs to jump, ticket still in hand. The cart rattles a bit and the door opens. Alastor looks confused, but embraces you nonetheless.

“He found me.” You said, turning around. Peter stands at the station as you get further from him. He looks defeated, hopeless. Angry, hurt. He stares at you mouth agape, unsure what to do. His eyes aren’t on you only though, no, he’s glaring at Alastor. His arm around your waist, and the way he ushers you into the cart with a tender kiss on your cheek. He’s livid.

This isn’t the end, Peter thinks. Not for a long shot.