#succubus reader

[quarterlifekitty]

Imagine being a succubus that feeds regularly on one John Price. He’s an excellent source of energy— vivid dreams, active imagination, plenty of pent up desires and time spent desperate for the soft touch of a woman— it’s no wonder you come back to him more than a few times a week.

What you don’t know is that John, deep in his ancestry, has a bit of demon blood in him. So he doesn’t get affected by your enchantments in quite the right way. He doesn’t wake up suddenly, convinced it was nothing more than a wild, lustful dream. No, he knows what you are and what you’re doing. And your pheromones are that much stronger

And he’s tired of you running away at first light. Always taunting him with that pink, glowing tattoo right over your womb. So cute, just beckoning him to shove his cock inside you and make it a home for his seed.

So he walks out of the occult shop, talismans in hand, excited for what the look on your face will be when you try to leave him and your wings are bound and body heavy. When he slips that delicate silver chain around your neck, the spell inside humming to life. And when you find out that his demon blood makes you breeding compatible…

[natsukicookies]

The sinful allure

A reverse harem batboys x succubus!reader

No proper beta read, we die like jason todd

Prologue < masterlist > chapter 2

Sun crept through your window, bright and annoying. You groaned, burying your face into your pillow, hoping to squeeze out just a few more minutes of sleep. But flashes of the previous night flickered in your mind—your newfound powers, the strange allure you’d suddenly developed, the rush of something dark and thrilling awakening inside you.

With a sigh, you peeled yourself out of your soft bed, half-convinced it had all been some bizarre dream. But a quick glance in the mirror, the faint shimmer of your eyes catching the light, reminded you otherwise.

You looked down at the pendant, letting it dangle from your fingers as you stepped out of your room. The familiar weight was comforting, yet now it felt heavier, almost like it held secrets you weren’t ready to understand. Your gaze drifted down the hall to your mom’s door, firmly shut. She’d come home super late, probably just before dawn. She was likely out cold by now, lost in whatever sleep she could scrape together.

You wanted to tell her about last night, about everything you’d discovered. She probably knew something, after all. She’d always insisted you wear this pendant, almost as if it was meant to protect you from something... or someone.

Your fingers traced the edges of the pendant as you took a hesitant step toward her room. You bit your lip, torn between the need to tell her and the fear of what she might say. Just as you raised your hand to knock on her door, a voice whispered in the back of your mind, warning you to stop. It was soft but certain, urging you to turn back, to keep this one thing to yourself.

With a sigh, you lowered your hand, stepping back from the door. Maybe telling her wasn’t the right move after all. Not yet.

You tucked the pendant back under your shirt and headed for the bathroom to get ready before taking your stuff and heading out the front as quietly as you could.

Did you want to go to college? No, you would much rather sleep in, since sleeping makes you not think about your problems. But do you have that luxury? Also no. Attending GSU means having an attendance above 85%.

So, off you went.

As you walked across campus, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. People kept staring at you—casual glances, lingering looks, the kind of attention that made you want to shrink back. You checked yourself quickly—did you have something weird on your clothes? Was there something in your hair?, it took a moment before it finally clicked.

You were drawing them in, your powers was pulling their attention without you even trying.

A few students casually glanced over their shoulders as they walked past you, their eyes lingering a little too long. You could feel the shift in the air, a subtle magnetism you couldn’t turn off.

Not good, you thought. The last thing you needed was to be a walking distraction.

You quickened your pace, hoping to avoid any further attention, but the feeling stuck with you. Your powers were already starting to affect your daily life, and you had no idea how to control them.

You practically sprinted to the nearest campus bathroom and locked yourself in one of the stalls, your breathing still a bit shaky. “Okay, get yourself together,” you muttered, pressing your palms to your cheeks. You gave yourself a light slap for good measure. “Don’t attract unwanted attention.”

You shook your head, gripping the pendant around your neck. "Not now," you murmured, your voice barely a whisper. "Please," you pleaded, hoping for some way to keep this strange new energy from leaking out.

For a moment, the pendant seemed to pulse, a faint glow that was almost too subtle to notice. You blinked, wondering if you’d imagined it, but there was no time to figure it out.

A glance at your phone made your heart skip—you had only a few minutes before your lecture started. With one last, steadying breath, you unlocked the stall and stepped out, trying to convince yourself that everything would be fine.

You slipped into the lecture as the teacher was preparing to start and found a seat in the back row.

You noticed a few people glancing your way, but you forced yourself to ignore it, focusing instead on the lecture—or at least pretending to. A few rows ahead sat Timothy Drake-Wayne. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy. He had it all: wealth, great grades despite being absent half the time, and, annoyingly, he looked good doing it.

You chewed on your bottom lip, still burning holes into the back of his head with your gaze. Timothy Drake, the ever-diligent student, sat there calm and collected like the top student he was.

Lost in thought, you didn’t notice when he shifted slightly, glancing back as if sensing your gaze. Your heart jumped into your throat, and you quickly looked away, pretending to be utterly engrossed in the lecture slides on your laptop.

You cursed softly under your breath, hunching over your notebook as You tried to look engrossed in the lecture, scribbling random notes as if they were the most important thing in the world. To anyone watching, you probably looked like a model student—if only that were actually true.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could feel Tim lingering for a second longer before turning back to his notes. You exhaled slowly, shaking your head.

Great job, you thought sarcastically. Staring at the guy like some creep definitely won’t raise any suspicion.

Somehow, you managed to avoid everyone by lunchtime. Unfortunately, that's where your luck decided to run out. 

Just as you were about to sit down with your tray of food, a hand landed on your shoulder from behind. Startled, you turned to see a tall girl with long raven-black hair and a dazzling smile. 

"Hi there! I'm Yumiko!" she said enthusiastically. 

"Uh... hi?" you replied awkwardly, blinking at her.

Before you could process much else, she practically pushed you into a seat and plopped down beside you, throwing an arm around your shoulders like you were old pals. You stiffened. Was this your powers at work? Did they affect women too?

Great. You sarcastically remarked inside your head.

"You’re in the computer science major, right?" she asked brightly. 

Instead of answering right away, you found yourself distracted, noting the expensive-looking way her hair was styled and the designer clothes she was wearing. One of the Richie Rich types on campus. 

"Yeah, I am," you finally replied, setting your tray on the table and introducing yourself. 

"Oh, I know who you are," she said with a grin. "I’ve seen you around a lot. Always alone much?" 

Her tone wasn’t mocking, exactly, but it still made you feel a bit exposed. You laughed awkwardly, hoping she’d leave it at that. She didn’t. 

To your dismay, Yumiko stayed glued to your side for the entire lunch, talking non-stop. She was a confident yapper and had no problem carrying the conversation entirely on her own. 

By the time lunch ended, it was clear she’d decided you were her new best friend. Was this how people made friends these days? Just walk up to someone and start yapping until they give up? 

It seems you just got adopted by an extrovert and It is yet to know if that's a good thing or a bad.

The rest of the day went by in a blur, and by the time your classes ended, the universe decided to throw in another curveball: rain. A sudden, heavy downpour. 

You stood under the overhang at the university's entrance, watching as people dashed out with backpacks over their heads or casually strolled under umbrellas. Unfortunately for you, your umbrella was sitting somewhere in your closet at home. In your defence, the rain had come out of nowhere. 

Letting out a sigh, you leaned against the wall, wondering how long you’d have to wait for it to stop. Just then, a tall guy caught your attention. His arms were stacked full of art supplies—sketchbooks, tubes of paint, and a container of brushes precariously balanced on top. 

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, eyebrows raised. Is he even able to see? How does he plan to get anywhere like that in this weather?

The thought had barely finished crossing your mind when, somehow, he pulled out an umbrella with one hand, expertly snapping it open without dropping a single item.

Well, if that isn't a skill, then you don't know what is.

Your admiration was short-lived, though, as you noticed a box of brushes tumble to the ground. Without thinking, you stepped forward. 

"Oh, let me help," you said, bending down to pick it up. His hands were full, and there was no way he could manage it on his own. 

You bent down and grabbed the box of brushes, carefully gathering the scattered ones that had fallen out. Straightening up, you turned to hand it back to him, the words already forming on your lips.

“Here you go—”

But then you froze.

Your gaze travelled up, taking in the neatly pressed blazer, the dark green eyes that seemed to hold a perpetual sharpness, and the ever-so-slight frown on his lips. You blinked, your brain catching up with your eyes.

It was Damian Wayne.

The Damian Wayne.

Your mind reeled. He wasn’t just some rich kid with impeccable manners -though he clearly was-. No, he was practically Gotham royalty, the youngest son of Bruce Wayne. You’d seen him before, of course—art major, quiet, always exuding a weird mix of arrogance and composure.

“Oh,” you said dumbly, still holding the box of brushes like you’d forgotten how hands worked.

He tilted his head slightly, his piercing gaze flicking to the box and then back to you. “Thank you,” he said, his tone polite but clipped, as though he were in a hurry.

You quickly snapped out of it and held the box out to him, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Uh, yeah. No problem.”

Damian reached for it, but his full hands made it a bit awkward. Before you could think better of it, you blurted out, “Do you need help carrying all that?”

He paused, eyes narrowing slightly as if assessing your motives. “I can manage,” he replied, though the strain in his arms told a different story.

“Seriously,” you pressed, “you’re one gust of wind away from dropping everything.”

Normally, you wouldn't have said that; you definitely would've just backed away, not offered to help or get involved with rich kids, but the whole day hasn't been normal.

And to your surprise, a small, almost imperceptible smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “If you insist,” he said, stepping slightly closer and shifting some of the weight your way.

He handed you a few of the items, ones that you could easily hold with one hand. You adjusted your grip, but as you looked up at him, you noticed he was still carrying the rest of the art supplies awkwardly in his arms.

You tilted your head slightly, then stretched out your other arm. “I can hold the umbrella too,” you offered, a little surprised at your boldness.

Damian raised an eyebrow at you, clearly considering your offer. For a moment, he didn’t respond, just watching you with those calculating green eyes. Finally, he gave a small shrug and passed you the umbrella.

You opened the umbrella and held it over the both of you. “Let’s go,” you said confidently, starting to walk.

But then you glanced up at the man next to you and had to bite your lip to hold back a laugh.

Damian’s expression was as composed as ever, but there was no denying the issue: you were too short. The angle of the umbrella was blocking his view, forcing him to tilt his head slightly just to see ahead.

“You’re... not very tall, are you?” he finally said, his tone dry but not unkind, though you could hear the faintest trace of amusement beneath it.

You bristled, your grip on the umbrella tightening as your cheeks warmed. “I-I’m average height,” you mumbled, trying to sound confident but failing miserably.

'It's you who built like a damn tree', you thought to yourself, biting your inner cheeks.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with your defence. “If you say so.”

You opened your mouth to respond but quickly snapped it shut, unsure of what to say. Instead, you focused on adjusting the umbrella, standing on your tiptoes to raise it higher.

“Better?” you asked, your voice small.

Damian stared at you for a good second before saying “Not really,” his tone wasn’t harsh. “You’re going to hurt yourself doing that.”

Your face heated up even more as you avoided his gaze. “I’m fine,” you muttered, though your arms were already starting to ache from the awkward angle.

With a small sigh, Damian reached out and gently adjusted the umbrella himself, tilting it slightly so it covered you both without blocking his view. “There. Now you don’t have to strain yourself.

“Thanks,” you murmured, feeling awkward but grateful. You focused on the ground as you walked, the sound of the rain filling the silence.

It was hard to tell if he found the situation funny or frustrating, but either way, you were too embarrassed to look up and find out.

The walk wasn’t too far, and as you approached the university gates, you noticed the sleek, black Lamborghini parked right outside. Your eyes widened slightly, though you quickly tried to play it cool, pretending like you weren’t totally awestruck. It wasn’t every day you saw a Lamborghini up close, let alone one waiting for someone you were walking with. 

The window rolled down, revealing an older man with a composed expression. A butler? His sharp eyes flicked to you briefly before returning to Damian. “Master Damian,” the man greeted, his voice formal but warm. Then his gaze shifted back to you. “A friend?” 

You quickly shook your head, the thought of being called Damian Wayne’s friend feeling almost laughable. 

“She’s helping,” Damian confirmed curtly, already moving to take the supplies out of your hands. He carefully loaded them into the car with practised ease, his movements quick and efficient. 

You stepped back, awkwardly holding the umbrella as he climbed into the passenger seat. “Um, the umbrella,” you said, fumbling to close it so you could hand it back to him. 

But before you could, he glanced at you and said, “Keep it,” in a tone that left no room for argument. 

With that, the car door shut, and you barely had time to process what just happened before the butler gave you a polite nod. “Thank you for assisting Master Damian,” he said with a faint smile before driving off, leaving you standing there in the rain with the umbrella still in your hand. 

You stared after the car, baffled. What just happened? You looked down at the umbrella in your hand, its sleek design and obvious quality making it clear it wasn’t some cheap, replaceable thing. 

“Keep it?” you murmured to yourself, still confused. Did rich people just give away expensive umbrellas like it was nothing...? 

It seems your 18th birthday just couldn’t get more unpredictable...or surreal.

It was no point lingering here any longer, and hence why you made your way home.

As soon as you opened the front door, you yelped in surprise at the loud pop that echoed through the apartment. "Happy birthday!"

Your eyes widened as you took in the sight of your mom standing there with a birthday blaster in her hand, confetti raining down around you both.

"Thank you..." you said, still in shock. She hadn’t done anything like this since you were 15, and the memory of those days made you feel both nostalgic and awkward.

You stepped inside, setting the umbrella by the door, and your gaze fell on the small cake sitting on the dining table. Your favourite flavour, So she still remembers.

Your mom smiled sheepishly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know it’s not much, but... I didn’t want to let the day go by without doing something.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced a smile. “It’s perfect.”

You and your mom enjoyed the cake together, talking about lighthearted things—you did your best to steer the conversation away from the weirdness that had been haunting you all day. 

It almost felt perfect, like it was before but that's when your delusional ass got kicked back into the reality as you saw your mom got up and put her coat on.

“Wait, are you going to work?” you asked, standing up quickly. 

She glanced at the time on her phone and gave you a sad smile. “Yes, dear. I have work.” 

You opened your mouth, a plea to stay stuck in your throat. Instead, you forced yourself to smile. “It’s fine.” 

It’s fine to leave your daughter alone on her birthday. 

She leaned in to kiss your forehead, but you instinctively stepped back. Her shoulders sagged slightly at the motion, but she didn’t press the issue. Instead, she sighed and gave a small nod. “Well, make sure to keep the pendant on,” she said, her gaze lingering on it for a moment too long. You hoped she didn’t notice anything strange about it. 

Biting your lip, you hesitated before speaking, your voice barely above a whisper. “Why do I have to keep wearing it?” 

Her expression tightened for a split second before softening. “Because I said so, and your mother knows best.” 

With that, she walked out, leaving you alone with more questions than answers.

The door closed with a soft click, and just like that, you were alone again in the small apartment. The emptiness pressed down on you, heavier than usual. 

You gathered the used plates and carried them to the sink, washing them on autopilot. As you stared at the faint reflection of yourself in one of the plates, an ache bloomed in your chest. 

Today felt more lonely than ever... You weren’t sure why. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by a faint glow from your pendant. The soft pink light pulsed, almost as if it were alive—calling for you to do something, urging you to take action. 

You raised it to eye level, your fingers tightening around it. The faint light danced in front of your eyes as if it were mocking you. 

"Why?" you whispered to yourself, your grip tightening further. Your mind is filled with all the times your mom has done this; she always does this.

With a burst of frustration, you ripped the pendant from around your neck. “Screw you, Mom,” you muttered under your breath. 

The moment the pendant left your neck, the world around you seemed to shift. A surge of energy coursed through your body, and when you glanced down, your reflection in the darkened kitchen window startled you. 

Your entire appearance had changed. 

You took a shaky breath, shoving the pendant deep into the pocket of your suit. It was clear that whatever this pendant was hiding, you weren’t going to ignore it any longer.

You went out through the balcony but made sure you closed it back; the last thing you want is to get smth stolen.

Flying up in the sky made you instantly feel better; the cold air was calming, though you do wish Gotham was a bit less polluted. Maybe you could see stars or maybe not.

You landed softly on the rooftop, your gaze drifting to the edge. For a moment, you imagined yourself sitting there, legs swinging freely over the city below, just like in the movies. But the thought of the dizzying drop made your stomach twist. Your feet stayed rooted in place. Instead, you turned to the railing, gripping its cool metal as you leaned against it, keeping a safe distance from the edge.

You let out a heavy sigh, still gazing down at the gloomy city below.

“You.” A deep male voice called out from behind you. Startled, you spun around, only to feel the cold, sharp edge of a katana hovering dangerously close to your neck. Instinctively, you stepped back—only to find the railing pressing against your spine.

You looked up at the owner of the katana, your eyes met their narrowed gaze behind a black domino mask. "Do not even think of escaping," he said, his tone as sharp as the weapon he wielded.

You gulped, your grip tightening on the railing as if it could anchor you away from the danger at your throat. “I’m not a shady person,” you tried your voice a mix of nervousness and forced confidence. Explaining was your best shot at avoiding whatever this guy had planned.

Robin. Another one of the bats. The rumours said he had no mercy, and it didn’t take long to believe them. Who else greets a stranger by shoving a katana in their face?

And those steps- silent as the grave. You hadn’t even heard him approach. There was no way you could fight him. Maybe... in bed-

You shook off the inappropriate thought, heat creeping up your neck, and faced the tall figure before you. “How about we put this away first?” you gestured at the katana, a sly smile tugging at your lips.

He didn’t move. If anything, the tilt of his head made him seem more intimidating, his expression unreadable under the mask. “Who are you, and what are you doing here?” His voice was calm, but there was an unmissable authority behind it, the kind that left no room for excuses.

Your smile faltered into a tight line. Okay, so this one wasn’t going to be as easy to fool as the last guy. “Can’t a girl just go out for some fresh air?” you replied, planting a hand on your hip in mock indignation.

Robin’s eyes narrowed further, the suspicion practically radiating from him. “Who are you with? Catwoman?”

“Huh? No!” you protested, your hands flailing in emphasis. “I’m-”

Before you could finish, a faint voice crackled through the earpiece he wore. His expression shifted slightly as he tilted his head, listening intently to whatever was being said.

After a moment, he replied curtly, “She is.”

You raised an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued. She is what? You wanted to ask, but the words didn’t make it past your lips.

To your relief, he finally lowered the katana, though his sharp gaze remained fixed on you. Letting out a sigh, you resisted the urge to slump against the railing in pure relief. At least you weren’t about to be beheaded- yet.

But before you could decide whether to thank him or try to bolt, another sound broke through the tension—metal clinking above, followed by heavy footsteps landing on the rooftop. You tensed instinctively, darting a glance over Robin’s shoulder.

Robin, seemed to know who it was as he slid his katana back into its sheath. That alone was enough for you to guess it was one of the other bats. You silently prayed it wasn’t Batman; you weren’t confident you could sneak away from the Dark Knight, yet.

The figure stepped into the dim light, revealing a man wearing a black domino mask that hid his eyes. Unlike Robin’s primarily grey ensemble, this one wore a striking red and black suit, with a belt strapped diagonally across his shoulders

You squinted, trying to piece together who this newcomer could be. Truth be told, you weren’t exactly up to date with the ever-growing roster of vigilantes. Guess it was time to add “study Gotham’s masked weirdos” to your to-do list- because, apparently, those guys couldn’t seem to leave you alone.

"Um, Red Hood?" you ventured, tilting your head slightly as you took a wild guess.

The man froze mid-step, then turned to you with a look that could peel paint off walls. “Red Hood?!” he repeated, his voice a mix of disbelief and offense. “Do I look like a giant, violent dog to you?!”

You bit back a laugh, but the smile still slipped through. “No,” you said, tapping your chin like you were pondering. “You look more like… a twink.”

"The guy’s shoulders tensed as if bracing for an explosion.

“A what?” the man barked, his voice pitching higher as his hands shot to his hips.

“A twink,” you repeated, your grin widening. “Wait, no. Maybe a twunk? Hard to say, really.”

The twitch in his eye was subtle, but it made you laugh quite a bit. Robin let out a quiet sigh, muttering something about “unprofessional” under his breath.

You wipe the tear off your eye as you calmed down from the laughter. Both the boys were whispering about something as you were quietly thinking about your escape plan.

You carefully take a look around you, noticing that their attention isn't fully on you as they seem to be too busy arguing with each other on smth.

Drawing a deep breath, you focused on your core, feeling a subtle warmth spread through your core to your whole body as your senses sharpen.

With a sudden, fluid motion, you stepped back toward the edge of the rooftop. The cool night air whipped around you as you balanced precariously on the ledge. The city lights below seemed to blur into a mosaic of possibilities.

"Hey!" Robin's voice cut through the night, alarm replacing suspicion as he realized your intent.

But before he or his companion could react, you let yourself fall backward, embracing the void. The sensation of freefall was both terrifying and liberating, a testament to your trust in your new found powers.

As you plummeted, you blew a playful kiss toward the rapidly shrinking figures above. However, just before you could activate your abilities to halt your descent, a sudden jerk halted your fall.

Glancing down, you saw a rope coiled tightly around your left leg, its other end leading upward. Your eyes followed the line to see the man beside Robin wielding a grapple gun, his expression determined.

"Is that a fucking grapple gun?!" you yelled, throwing your arms up in exasperation as you felt yourself being pulled back toward the rooftop.

“Hello again,” you greeted with a wry smile, though it held no warmth.

“Figures why Nightwing told us to be on high alert…” the shorter one muttered under his breath, his tone tinged with annoyance.

Your pout deepened as you realized that wonder boy from yesterday had snitched on you. Mentally cursing Nightwing, you shifted in place, your bindings reminding you just how little freedom you currently had.

“Can you two at least untie me?” you asked, feigning boredom. “I’ll have you know I’m not into this kink… yet.”

Robin rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed by your sass. His irritation radiated like a tangible force as he turned away, refusing to dignify your remark with a response.

The one they called Red Robin, however, crouched down to your level, studying you with a curious intensity. His eyes, though hidden behind his mask, felt like they were peeling back layers, trying to uncover the truth buried beneath your casual façade.

“And what exactly are you into?” he asked, his voice calm but tinged with dry humor, as though testing your reaction.

You tilted your head, your smile sharpening. “Wouldn’t you like to know?"

Suddenly a loud blast echoed from a nearby building, shaking the air and rattling the rooftop beneath you.

All three of you turned your heads toward the source of the explosion. Smoke billowed into the night sky, mingling with Gotham’s ever-present haze.

Robin’s sharp gaze immediately snapped back to you, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. “Was that your doing?” he demanded, his tone icy and accusatory.

You gasped dramatically, tugging at the ropes still binding you. “Excuse me? No! Do I look like I have the time—or the hands free—to plant explosives?”

Robin’s expression remained skeptical, but before he could retort, a crackle from their earpieces interrupted. Both vigilantes stiffened as a voice—likely Batman’s—relayed urgent information.

After a brief exchange, the two of them nodded in silent agreement. You looked between them, utterly bewildered. “What’s going on?” you asked, even though you weren’t expecting an answer.

To your surprise, Red Robin turned to you, his tone clipped but calm. “Someone’s planted multiple bombs in that building. We have to disarm them now.”

“Oh…” you muttered, the gravity of the situation sinking in. Then you wriggled slightly against the ropes. “So, uh, are you going to untie me before you leave?”

Robin’s glare made it clear he wasn’t about to do that. “Stay here until we get back,” he snapped.

“Wait—” you started to protest, but before you could say more, they were gone. Their grappling hooks hissed through the air as they launched themselves toward the chaos, leaving you alone.

You stared at the empty rooftop, slack-jawed. “Huh… HUH?!” you shouted, twisting against the ropes in frustration. “Did they really just leave me tied up here?! What if I get kidnapped? Or, I don’t know, fall off the roof and die?!”

Okay, maybe you were being a little dramatic. But still, leaving you like this? Super rude. 

With a resigned sigh, you shuffled to your feet—no easy feat with your hands bound behind your back. The ropes dug into your wrists as you tested their strength. They were sturdy, clearly designed to restrain someone a lot more dangerous than you. Breaking them wasn’t an option, not with brute strength alone. 

“Great,” you muttered under your breath. “Just fantastic.”

You leaned back against the rooftop’s edge, tilting your head toward the sky. A lone bat flitted across the moonlit expanse, its wings slicing effortlessly through the cool night air. 

“Must be nice to be a bat,” you murmured wistfully. “No ropes, no problems… Just flying wherever you want. Way less complicated.”

The words had barely left your lips when a strange sensation washed over you. The world around you shifted, twisting like a kaleidoscope. Your vision blurred, the rooftop spinning before your eyes. 

You blinked, once, twice, and when the dizziness faded, you looked down. 

Your hands—or rather, where your hands used to be—were gone. In their place were tiny claws, and your body was… smaller? 

“What the—?” you squeaked, but the sound that came out wasn’t your voice—it was a high-pitched chirp. 

Flapping your wings instinctively, you darted upward, and that’s when it hit you.

“I… I’m a bat?!” you yelled—or at least, you tried to. It came out more like a shrill squeak, echoing awkwardly in the night air. Glancing down, you noticed the ropes that had bound you lying uselessly on the ground. It seems that, your transformation has freed you. 

You flapped your tiny wings experimentally, marveling at how effortlessly you soared higher into the sky. Okay, this was… weird. Cool, but weird. 

Now you had two options. One: go home, curl up with some ice cream, and forget this entire bizarre night ever happened. Two: follow those Robin birds.

The logical choice was clear. Who in their right mind would willingly chase after the guys who tied them up and left them stranded on a rooftop? 

…You. 

Because apparently, rationality had taken a backseat tonight. Or maybe it was something else. Their scent lingered in the air, tantalizing in a way you couldn’t quite explain. It was rich and enticing, like the promise of a forbidden feast. 

Your stomach—or whatever bats or succubus have—grumbled. Was this hunger? It felt like it.

Or was this your powers messing with your head? Is this what HE meant by urges? You didn’t know, but the pull was irresistible. Without a second thought, you flapped your wings harder, cutting through the air toward the building they’d disappeared into. 

The closer you got, the stronger the scent became, making your thoughts fuzzy. You weren’t literally drooling, but it was a close call. What the hell was happening to you?

Fun fact i got this chapter done on my birthday but had to wait untill i got someone to beta read it :>

Please tell me if theres smth off about the chapter or the personality of the batboys. Since this is my first time writing ab them, im afraid they are gonna be very ooc.

Also how do ppl upload to ao3 i wanna try but its so confusing 😭

Lastly do yall got any hero name for the succubus reader?? Please help a girl out 😔🎀

-

Taglist: @xingyunny @4rachn3 @ferakillia

[konigsblog]

it’s not even funny how bad i need more succubus reader x konig omg

succubus-reader x könig thots™️...

cw: depravity, succubus, consensual somnophilia, handjob. 18+

after könig experienced your visit, you were all he could think about. you plagued every thought in his head, and his fat cock grew and throbbed as he fantasized about you. although, könig craved more - the sensation of your tight, gummy and warm walls was already pleasing to könig, but he wanted to experience more than just that...

he wanted to taste you, to feel your hands wrapped around his bulbous, lengthy and veiny shaft, holding him by his thick, musky base, twisting your hand around his girth towards the head of his weeping tip.

he summoned you again, deciding he'd sleep without any boxers this time, so incredibly desperate for your sweet sex. and it happened once again... he was awoken to the pleasuring and arousing feeling of a hand wrapped tightly around his wet dick, the older male couldn't help his growls as he bucked and thrusted into your hand at your command, being controlled by your mind. his jaw was wide and lips pressed against your cunt, tasting every droplet of your juices against his tongue.

könig could feel the weight of you on his face, his tongue pressed between your slick folds, slurping and sucking at your little clit whilst you got him off.

he could barely think straight, listening to the sounds of your heavy breathing, as you gripped him even tighter than before. könig was getting older - he needed someone that was energetic and needy, so he could fuck the energy out of you. the sexual demon sitting on his face was all he desired and longed for; moaning against your wet heat, your sharp, long nails grazing along the underside of his shaft, causing him to spurt shots of his milky load all over your hands, leaving just as fast as you came.

although, now könig was left without globs of his hot, thick arousal dripping from his dick onto his muscular abdomen, sweating and heaving as he shook and trembled, his dick only getting harder and wetter... ;(

such a tease...

[djljpanda]

Could you write a Ozzie x Fizz x Idol! Succubus! Gn-reader? Like how they would be with readers occupation? If not that’s totally fine!

Asmodeus X Fizzarolli X Idol Gn!Reader

Before you even got with Ozzie and Fizz your name was well known throughout the seven rings of hell.

I feel that the two wouldn't mind your career but would be upset when you would have your tours that would take centuries for you to come back.

And why would they have a secret fan account for you were they would post about you and defend you from any haters.

They do love that you are chasing after your dream but do get worried for you when it comes to fans.

They would always be there to protect you when fans would get too close and that poor demon would be gone if they would try to hurt you or follow you in any way.

They love the costumes you wear and even beg you to wear it for them in the bedroom.

They do have merch of you somewhere in their room.

Asmodeus does send bodyguards for you cause nothing should happen to his partner. And Fizzarolli is usually texting you to make sure you are alright.

When you are creating new songs you do go over them with Asmodeus and Fizzarolli to see how they would think.

Overall they worry about you but they know that this is your dream all they ask for is for you to be careful and to come back home as quickly as you can.

[the-entitie]

Why didn't you say anything?

Poly TF 141 x sex-demon reader (male intended but has depictions of fem):

A|n: Based on this writer's amazing work and this artist's au. And now this is very long.... I can't just write porn can I? Of well.

Prt:2 is done <3 》》》》》

Be warned I use more Catholic or deamon depiction of our succubus(male) reader, so please expect some body horror esk depictions. Also, the 141 are all in a polycule in this story.

CW: NSFW halfway through after the line break, sex addiction or dependence depicted for reader, threats to health, kind of eating disorder esk, talk of threats/acts of noncon and dubcon to reader (not focused on), polyamory, some talk of religion, why is this so long? And angst??? Ok....

Thinking about being a demon who became the 141's spy. The blood of the damned that ran through you, making you that much more dangerous and that much better at your job.

You fell under the deadly sin of lust, but it's been so many decades that you can't quite remember how you came to be. Maybe reincarnation, maybe you were summoned. It doesn't matter anymore, but it still hindered your intake into the military. You were practically a veteran by the time Price picks you up and drags you into his team.

None of the 141 had ever worked with anyone demonic for an extended amount of time. There had been the call ins and times when they picked up failed missions, but none of them ever really worked with a demon.

Ghost, as a wraith, was the closest any of them had gotten to working with anyone similar to you.

You started out as someone they called to scope out information before a particularly threatening mission. You were just the help, the one they called when they needed a spy. Until they leaned about how every other task force would drop you within a month of calling you thiers.

Price had worried that it was something to do with you or your attitude towards teamwork when he had taken you in, made you one of his men.

That was before he noticed this kind of cycle you would go through. Just when a mission would start, you would pull back. You would separate from everyone, not cold turkey, yet you just wouldn't be present. The training room was one person short, or their would be one less person here on the quieter afternoons he didn't even know this team had.

It was after the missions that you would be more than present again.

You were there again when Soap wanted to run his lycanthopic body to exhaustion just so he could feel just a little more human with the pains it brought. When he was hyper, feeling like he needed to move, you were there to shove him. Drag him into a game of tag or chase or anything to help him move. Soap has never been good at sitting still.

When Gaz needed to be called from the purch he picked to preen his damp or irritated feathers on that was away from the busy noise of the base. Or when his Avian blood told him to take to the sky, you were happy to be taken for a flight or watch him loop around, watch him stretch his wings, across the star splattered skies.

And there you were outside with the nocturnal Ghost, saying you didn't need the sleep most nights and got bored. Even when his form would flicker, tendrils of shadows lashing around his open skin, something that made most run. You stayed with him, hummed a tune you can't remember the origin of, in a language probably only those as old as you would remember.

When Price was struck with phantom pain, when he would feel this pang on his wing only to realize it was from the one that didn't exist anymore. You were there with him. Happy to share a cigar with the smoke that smoldered was neither from his drag nor you. There to sit and fill in paperwork long into the night shift, to just exist around Price when the team was still settling in, or licking wounds.

In the more common areas where Soap would annoy Gaz into another game of cards. You were there to keep the peace.

It had taken Price longer than he was willing to admit to know what was going on. It wasn't some manipulative, carrot and stick, trick no. And it almost seemed like you hadn't consciously been doing it. Before it clicked.

You were a demon, a succubus, to be specific. You fed off of the emotion or the intent of sex.

And you only got that when you needed to get someone to talk. You only lean into it when it's needed for a mission.

He honestly felt stupid, like a leader that failed, but he was quick to right that failure. It wasn't like this team didn't run off and blow off steam together or that they left soap to struggle through his heat alone, nor did they leave Gaz to sit and brood alone. None of that.

And if you were a part of his team, this team, then you can't be starved. Can't be left to weaken, to crave, no. Price wouldn't stand it.

So he talked to the team. Told them his theory, his plan to fix it, and when the team had gotten over the hurt of leaving you alone and weak. They jumped at the opportunity.

Starting small.

Being more openly affectionate around you, never quiet reaching out but still letting the emotions linger.

Those play fights that Ghost would tap out of suddenly just kept going, and those thick visceral emotions none could quiet place the origin of; would hang so heavy in the air you could practically catch it between your teeth.

Those days Gaz would pull back, preen his wings alone; became fewer and far between. Now, the nearest team mate had a lap full of fluffled up wings and pleading eyes. And could Gaz use those honey coated eyes of his to glance up through his lashes and beg.

The quiet chuckles and this ever so pleased emotion would wind around Price's incisors, a satisfied thrill of the dragon flooding a palpable semblance of the satisfied job.

Price started talking about to the team, and they started trying to be more connected, more present, with you so you could have that nourishment. And if that meant that private room doors were left ever so lightly ajar during late nights spent with each other. No one mentioned it.

Soap was the first to notice the actual change.

Your eyes would flicker, puplis vibrating softly before it was shut down, and you would disappear. Or you would actually pull back. He was also the first to tell Price. And thier leader waisted no time.

"You good there, lutenent?" His voice calls softly into your quarters.

"All good Cap."

"Not so sure about that one soldier." Price presses on, taking a step further in to push the door more closed, "You don't play well with this team?"

"No, I have no qualms with any of you. Sorry if it seemed so."

"Ya do always talk so proper like you know?"

"Apologies, old habits."

Price steps closer, easily taking the space offered my your open thighs. Letting that simmering feeling flush his skin.

"Maybe we should start making new ones. What do you say, Sugar?"

His hand hovered just over your throat, careful to keep you feel safe. Price of all people knows what a demon can do when cornered, and it wasn't like he wanted you to feel put off.

He sees what Soap saw, just as his palm cups the edge of your jaw, your pupils flicker. Body dropping almost leaning agaisnt him.

"Why didn't you say something, Suguar?"

"Not of my use in this team."

"You don't need to be useful to eat." He sounded almost angry, calming all the more when you do lean into him, "you never need to earn a meal. Just ask. We all want to help."

That night, he let you ride him.

Laid back against your bed, held your weight by your thighs, and let you set the pace. Even if he was so hard it hurt, or if your dark lion-esk tail would flick across the sensitive inside of his thigh. Or when he's come twice and is practically drooling before he notice just how much more like your kin you look.

He doesn't stop you from flicking a forked tongue over the overwhelmed tears, he only noticed the change at the hitch of your breath when Price tangles his scared hands in your hair. Accidently tracing the curving rams horns that has twisted around your more pointed ears.

Singing your praise, even as you tried and failed to explain that you don't matter in this, just his pleasure.

He shut that down real quick.

[sl33paholics]

Passion's Palette

Akira Fudo x succubus!black!F!reader

Warning(s): smut, smut, smut, idk what else to add here, monster fucking, nipple play, bros about to explode

"Shitttt mannn...!!!"

You let out a slurty giggle as you watched your boyfriend dig his large nails into your hips, having you slide down his thighs as you released some weight from his pelvis by leaning back and supporting yourself on his thighs as well, you felt the muscles under his skin twitch in response to your movement.

Feeling the guy aggressively buck his hips up, drilling your soaked pussy open with his hard cock made you even more wetter than before, making the hot sticky sensation feel even better. Akira's sloppy and erratic movements made his cock spring out of your tight hole like it was on its own accord, now twitching between your ass cheeks. You had to bite your lip to hold back another round of giggles that threatened to escape from your mouth as Akira was salivating pretty hard.

Akira wasn't here. Well, he was, but he wasn't here mentally. Too pussy drunk and consumed by lust to give you any sort of thought or attention whatsoever. As if you used your poeers to finally give you some dick, which, of course you did. Akira's mind was focused solely on fucking you senseless for hours without stopping, which meant that his dick was fully engorged, making him push it back inside of your hot pussy while you rode him. It was pretty fucking hot, you couldn't lie.

You fluttered your (e/c) eyes shut at his movements and moaned as he pressed his thumb down harder on your swollen clit, the friction between your two bodies burning hotter than anything else could, you felt so damn good and you wanted nothing more then to cum just from the way he was fucking you.

"Come....ngh...here..." Your boyfriend slurred, you leaned in feeling your chests touch each other your lips touched his, kissing you roughly. You felt him lick at your tongue while sucking on yours, you moaned again when he sucked at your top lip, Akira moved the tip of his tongue out to taste you as your mouth separated from one another. "Ssshhh...so good," He whispered against your lips. "So fuckin good..!" You mumbled, your voice thick with lust. Akira's lips trailed kisses down your neck, leaving wet red love bites in their wake and leaving you breathless.

You continued to ride him like crazy , moaning and letting out whimpers of pleasure and excitement. You heard his groan of approval mixed with your own muffled gasps. The sound only spurred you on more. You grinded your pelvis against him in a steady rhythm, getting yourself closer to release. The feeling of his hands on your lower thighs, digging his fingers into you slowly, caused you to squirm, your hips jerking to get more friction. It was going to happen soon. You were already close to the edge, and you could feel it in the air.

"You ready for this big ass nut?" Akira asked huskily. You heard his tone of voice turn cocky almost immediately, your eyes shot open, looking at him with a heated gaze. You nodded vigorously. "Fuck yeah I am! Make me cum...!!" You screamed, Akira's face broke out into a wide grin and he gave your hips one last thrust.

Akira woke up in cold sweat. He breathed heavily through his mouth, his heart pounding wildly against his rib cage. He ran his hand through his hair, staring down at his naked form. His sheets were drenched in sweat, and a sticky substance fell onto his hand. Looking up, he was in disbelief. Akira painted his ceiling.

It didn't help that he heard the door knob rattle, and he froze, with you walking in the room. "Oh, you're awake now." You said, seeing your boyfriend sitting in bed with a flushed face, sweat dripping around his body, his tanned skin glistening under the bright morning light coming from your window. A confused look plastered your face before looking up and seeing the huge mess. "What the FUCK is that?!" You screeched.

Akira blinked. He honestly didn't know what to say. "Uh..uh..I..." He stammered.

You began going on and on and on, Akira couldn't be bothered to listen to your rants about what he just did to his ceiling. He plopped his head back on the pillow, letting out a huge sigh. "God damnit..." He was so fucked.

[lanora-star]

!YANDERE! Cult × !FEMALE DEMON SUCCUBUS! Reader

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

As a young man walk into a room, there are five other people in that room.

two male and three female.

"So do we have everything for the summoning?"

The young man said to the other in the room.

"Yes, we have everything we need Max."

One of the three women said

"Thanks Lydia. John do you have the book?"

Max said to one of the man in the room.

"Yep, it's right here."

John said as he lifted up the book.

"Andy don't you have the knife?"

Lydia said to Andy.

"I don't have it I think that Margaret has it?"

Andy said in a cold voice.

"You all are incompetent, Margaret doesn't have the knife I do!"

Jade said has she lifted up the knife and handset to Max.

The ritual is about to be completed and Max had cut his hand with the knife pouring it into the middle of the circle as a pink dust a forms indicating that it finally a demon.

"Who had summoned me?"

Y/n said in a trampled voice and slightly annoyed one.

"I-I did M-miss?"

Max stuttered out.

"Oh~ well aren't you a cute little human.~"

Y/n said in a seductive voice.

"MAX!! Ughhh fine I'll do it. Demon we have a demand!"

Margaret said angry.

"Well, no way to speak to a demon who you summoned and please don't call me demon I have a name you now or~ you can call me mommy~."

Y/n said in irritation.

"W-well what's y-your name?"

Max stuttered as Y/n gets closer to him.

"Well~ it depends if you want to know what kind of demon I am or what my actual name is.~"

Y/n said.

"W-what kind of d-demon are you?"

Max stutter said.

"I'm a succubus!~ Also my name is Y/n.~"

Y/n said happily as she kept Max's face in her hands.

"My, my, you are just the cutest little human!~"

Y/n coo to Max as blush profusely a dark shade of red.

"Aww~you're blushing that's adorable.~"

Y/n coo again as she said that she rest against Max having his face he ended up having his face resting against her chest.

"Max it's your decision if you want to make a request from succubus."

Lydia said slightly disgusted about the succubus.

Max suddenly had a dark glitch across his face.

He then stands up taking the knife and proceeding to kill all five of them screams of terror and horror.

"Wha-"

Y/n try to speak but was cut off by Max who passionately kissed her.

"I'm sorry but I can't let them be so rude to you, know it can be just me and you."

Max said to Y/n as he continued to kiss her.

It surprised Y/n and she gasped from shock that ended up allowing Max to slip in his tongue.

5 YEARS LATER

Max was sitting on the couch with Y/n on his lap.

In the past 5 years Max forced Y/n to get married to him.

They live in a secluded cabin in the woods.

"Darling~ don't you think it's time we have kids?~"

Max coo to Y/n.

"Wha- N-no!"

Y/n denied.

"Darling~ that wasn't a question or a request that was a demand and that is what's going to happen.~"

Max said as he pulled down on Y/n hair.

Y/n never knew what she did to deserve this but she was sure that she will never get out of Max's grip but she will try anything to get away she doesn't want to have his kid.

"Why did you does is?"

Y/n asked Max.

"It's because I love you, darling~ and you'll never leave me.~"

Max stated.

"I'm a succubus I don't even know if I can get pregnant!"

Y/n cried out as she tried to get off of Max's lab but he pulled her down holding her around her waist and pulling down on her hair.

"Well~ should we try?~"

Max coo and proceeded to kiss and bite Y/n neck and leaving several hickeys and bite marks.

'I know I don't do this often, but please god so sorry for whatever I've done I just want to get out of here!'

Y/n thought as she let out of the light whimper from the pain.

"Aww~ darling~ you sound so cute!~"

Max coo to her as he continued to bite harder.

"You're so cute I can't take it anymore!~" Max said to Y/n.

Max and proceeded to pick her up and walk to their shared room.

He laid her on the bed.

"Darling~ you look like you need some rest." Max said as he laid next to Y/n.

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

[smokeysweater]

succubus darling who is near asexual. Because… i dont know, fun concept. succubus darling who gets summoned by their yandere only to nervously inform the yandere that… Yeah? They guess they feed off of sexual energy, but they just also don’t really like it. cue yandere being disappointed for like two seconds until they realise they can cuddle with darling all they want, cause in their mind, cuddling would take longer to fill up Succubus darling’s energy. …. as soon as they start cuddling Succubus darling gets full because of Summoner Yandere absolute rancid horn knee energy. anyone people add more onto this if u want.

[mintyys-blog]

What would happen if steve was still frozen and a succubus stays with him frm his frozen state to him being unfrozen both loving and tempting him. No one but steve can see her unless she lets others see sure thor and loki can detect supernatrual/godly presence yet will keep out if its dark. Succubus reader is quite ...posessive whilst loving

FROZEN TEMPTATION— steve rogers x succubus! reader

WARNINGS:

Steve Rogers lay beneath the ice, a relic of a forgotten war, his body preserved but his soul adrift. Decades passed above him, civilizations shifting, wars fought and won, but in the shadows of his frozen world, he was not alone.

She found him first—not by accident, but by design. Drawn to the unwavering strength of his spirit, the succubus lingered, watching the man encased in ice, a monument to sacrifice. She pressed her hand against the frozen surface, her fingertips tingling from the untouched purity of him.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered into the darkness, her voice a soft melody that echoed through the cavern. Yet she stayed, for centuries if she must.

⸻

When Steve was pulled from the ice, gasping into the unfamiliar world, she was there. Unseen, her shadow lingered, fingers brushing his skin when no one else watched. He felt her in dreams before he saw her—hazy warmth in his cold, sterile world. She whispered his name, coaxing, tempting.

And then she showed herself.

He saw her first in the quiet of his new apartment, standing by the window, her dark eyes glowing with something ancient and hungry.

“You’re real,” he said, though part of him wished she wasn’t.

“I’ve always been here,” she murmured, stepping closer, her presence a tangible force that pressed into him. “You just didn’t know.”

Steve wasn’t a man who frightened easily, but her gaze stirred something deeper—a mix of fear, desire, and confusion.

“Why me?” he asked.

She tilted her head, studying him. “Because you’re pure. Because you’re strong. Because you’re mine.”

⸻

Possession wasn’t love, Steve told himself. But her touch was tender, her words laced with devotion. She wasn’t cruel—only protective. She sat by his side during endless nights, tracing the shape of his hands, whispering secrets that made his heart ache.

“No one else will have you,” she said once, fingers brushing over his lips. “They don’t deserve you.”

And yet, she knew she could not cage him.

Thor was the first to sense her, frowning as his gaze lingered in the empty air around Steve. Loki’s eyes narrowed, a smile playing on his lips.

“I smell old magic,” Loki said. “Something dark. Dangerous.”

Thor’s brow furrowed. “Stay away from it, brother. Darkness that clings to shadows is not ours to disturb.”

And so, they left it alone.

⸻

But Steve couldn’t leave it.

“Are you… hurting me?” he asked her one night, when the air was thick with tension.

She looked wounded, her hands trembling. “I could never hurt you. I love you.”

Love. It was a word that felt like fire in her mouth, a word that shackled her more than him.

“You can’t love me,” Steve said softly. “Not like this. Not when I’m trapped.”

She smiled, but it was a hollow thing. “You were always trapped, Steve. Long before I came.”

⸻

Their bond was a paradox—desire laced with guilt, comfort edged with fear. She loved him fiercely, protectively. Possessively. And he?

He didn’t know if he loved her or the ghost of her that lived in his dreams.

But he did know one thing: she had been there when the world forgot him. She had stayed when no one else did.

And sometimes, that was enough.

[quarterlifekitty]

if devils were real (they'd be in the military)

john price/succubus!reader part 1

When John lays down for sleep, he does so with a smile. Talismans greet him from each cardinal direction of his room, ready to bring his darling home to stay. When you come through his window, you're none the wiser. In the dark of his room, your tattoo glows a faint pink over your womb.

You settle yourself gently atop John's hips, just barely grinding your panty-clad pussy against his boxers before he starts to stir. He stares at you with that dumb, sleepy smile like a man in love. It almost makes you feel a bit bad for what you're about to do to him. But not quite.

The scent that begins to pour from your skin is heady and saccharine, making the air heavy as it coats the insides of John's lungs better than a cigar ever could. He's hard in an instant. You giggle, rubbing your hands up and down, cupping the swell of his chest and raking your fingers through the coarse, dark hair.

Price lazily brings a hand to the curve of your hip, perfectly playing the part of the fool out of his mind from your pheromones.

"Daddy," you purr, "I missed you so bad… wanted this cock more than anything…" the words drip like honey off of your tongue, landing feather-light against his throat, threatening to catch the breath within. Your pinkie finger ghosts at the elastic of his boxers, just barely catching and slipping underneath with a perfectly timed bite to your lower lip.

His heart does pound. But not for the reason you think.

The night follows your usual routine. A few special tricks to keep things interesting for him (or maybe your just do it for yourself). Grinding that pretty, wet little pussy against him until he's aching. Taking him into your mouth with a tongue just barely too long to be natural. More and more teasing until you finally let him into your soft, wet heat. You languish in it when you're fully seated— hips flush with his. A drawn out moan escapes you, a shiver running down your spine as you feel his pre leaking out inside you. An appetizer for what's to come.

"Always feels so big… I'll never get used to this cock, daddy. It's just so much—" another rehearsed bite to the lip, tears at your lashline as you grind yourself down and choke out a sob.

John often doesn't speak much during these encounters. Pretends he's too hazy on your cocktail of a scent to formulate a full sentence. But if there's one thing you've always noticed about him, it's his gaze. Men tend to keep their eyes firmly locked on the hypnotic bounce of your tits as you ride them, minds too addled to focus anywhere else. But John keeps his eyes firmly locked onto yours. You chalk it up to his rather severe case of loneliness, but it does unnerve you. Like his line of sight is an ice pick being driven under your eyelid, probing in a place you yourself haven't mapped.

Like he's looking in your eyes just long enough to pull the wool over them.

But you're too much of a professional to let silly little ideas like that affect your performance. You can feel him start to swell and throb inside of you, your tattoo pulsing in anticipation. He lets his eyes close, and he quirks his lip enough for you to see the grit of his teeth as he cums inside you, a shiver running through you from the surge of power it creates. The mark of your womb radiates a bright fuchsia as you take it all in.

It takes some restraint on John's part not to dig his fingers deep into the fat of your hip when he cums— he's just so ready for you to be his. But he hasn't gotten this far by acting in haste. A rustling of paper, a glimpse of calligraphic sigils in the corner of his eye, all a sign of victory on the horizon.

This would typically be the part where you say goodnight. Kiss his forehead and stretch your onyx wings wide to take back off into the night.

It's worth everything to John and more— when your wide eyes betray the searing tension binding the muscles at your shoulder blades.

A careless fly treading six-legged over the trigger hairs of the carnivorous plant.

It becomes your turn to grit your teeth when every attempt at unfurling you wings just makes more pain bloom in their place, almost causing you to double over. John's other hand creates symmetry, planting itself on your other hip. He holds firm and bucks his hips.

The sound you make is beautiful. Unplanned. For a man so neurotic, it's shocking that something so spontaneous could please him so much. It's not the kind of sound a performer makes. No, it sounds like someone thoughtlessly tied a silk ribbon around the neck of a swan just a little too tight.

In the fraction of a moment after that strangled cry leaves your throat, you're on your back, staring up at the cat who caught the canary. His stare is unrelenting, wanting to burn your vulnerability into his synapses. A chuckle rumbles through his chest, deep enough that you swear you can feel it where you're connected still.

"Don't look at me like that, sweetheart. Why don't you tell daddy what's wrong, hm?"

[scenequeen05]

Choso kamo x succubus!reader

This is a modern jujustu kaisen AU based on Jennifer's body and thirteen. And set in early 2000s So enjoy.

Warnings: 18+, popular reader, nerd choso, p in v sex, oral (m receiving), blood. Porn with a little plot.

"Man, schools almost out, and you still ain't get laid. You're a senior in college, and you didn't even try to get any." jogo laughs as he shuts his locker. Choso scoffs as they head to their next period. "Well, I mean, look at her. She's perfect." their eyes land on you as you walk past.

"i mean, maybe she likes nerds like you, cho," the taller male punches him lightly as he laughs. "i doubt it she probably only dates older guys or something." jogo rolls his eyes, "yeah, right. I think she's dating some basketball player."

The two boys keep conversing as choso makes eye contact with you. Your gaze sent h shivers done his spine. The feeling was cut short when his friend started shaking him. When he looked back, she was just talking to her friends as if nothing had happened. "Damn dude, you ain't gotta be a perv stop staring so hard."

History class wasn't his favorite class, though he could still tolerate it. But today, his mind seemed to only think about you. The way you dressed, the way she carried herself, your body, your perfume.

He started to get carried away, thinking about how soft your skin would feel if he ever had the chance to touch you. He was enamored for some reason he knew he had to have you.

Other than today, he's never even talked to you, but it was just the way you looked at him, as if he was your prey. He brushed his hair out of his eyes and tried to focus, but that seemed to be impossible. When images of you under him were all he could think about.

After finishing those seemingly never-ending classes. The final bell rang, and choso decided to go meet with jogo. Once he arrived at his locker, he watched as you pressed up against him, whispering something in his ear as jogo squirms back. As if trying to melt into the locker. His face redder than a tomato. Any other time, choso would've busted out laughing, but this time, he felt jealous and angry. As if he was being betrayed.

Y/n looked back at him with those same eyes that seemed to put him in a trance before smirking and walking away. Jogo falls to his knees, breathing heavily. As he looks up at him with a love struck face.

"Dude," the shorter man slides back up his locker in disbelief. "Di-did you just...." jogo face is still cherry red before he just walks off in a completely different direction.

Choso rolled his eyes and went to put his things in his locker. But once he opens it, a piece of paper falls out. Inside was sparkling pink handwriting.

It was a location. The letter itself gave away who the author was with the vanilla scented perfume and a single initial.

Once he got home, he plopped on his bed and looked at the letter. He knew where the location was but wasn't familiar with it.

He should've stayed home and finished his homework. But choso's brain kept telling him to go. What if it was her house. Then images flashed through his head of what could happen, from it being a prank or him losing my virginity.

But he prayed to whatever God that was the latter. His parents were asleep in their bedroom downstairs, so he opened his window and strategically climbed out.

After what felt like hours, he finally reached the destination. The house wasn't anything fancy. There were two stories plus an attic. There was only one light illuminating a room.

Once he steps towards the house, a silhouette appears in the window before disappearing. A few more lights turned on as the person descended. The sound of a lock clicking was all he heard before the door opened. "Took you long enough" was the last thing he heard before he was dragged up the stairs.

The smell of vanilla and strawberries suffocated poor choso as he was pulled towards what he was hoping was your room. Pink sweatpants and a tank top were all you wore . Your pants had an outline of a thong. The tent in his pants got tighter as his heart kept beating faster and faster.

You open the door to your room, and tiger prints along with black and pink designs adorn your room. He was pushed onto your bed as you dimmed the lights, and Music played in the background.

This was going faster than expected as he hoped that whatever god he prayed to answered it in full because if this night ended in blue balls and embarrassment, he would never step outside again.

You stalk towards him and glide your hands up along the inner part of his thigh. His face felt like it was on fire as he whimpered silently.

"Aww how cute! You're so excited already, and I haven't done anything," your voice sent shivers throughout his body as it did once before. Except this time, it was more intense as you started to unzip his pants.

He threw my head back as the cold air hit his now exposed cock. You sighed and looked up at him. He noticed how your eyes seemed to glow even in the dimly lit room. Your hands traced circles before placing your mouth sensually on the tip of his dick. Every touch was sensitive, and he tried so hard from bucking upwards.

He grunted and grabbed the sheets as you took all of him in your hot mouth. Your tongue drags along my shaft as she sucks. A whine falls from his lips as you dig into his thighs. Choso looks down to see that his jeans were ripped as if they were attacked by a wild animal

Your nails looked like claws at this point as you sucked his soul. His dick twitches as if he's about to cum, but you quickly pull away and choso breathing is heavy as he watches you pull your sweats down.

You climbs top of the long-haired man, and your eyes - now brightly glowing - seemed to claw into his soul. Fear rises in his chest before a wave of pure pleasure rushes straight to his cock. He presses his head into the bed and starts whimpering from the overstimulation. You slowly grinded into him while your claws dig into his chest, though the pleasure outweighed the pain.

You take your lacy thong off and toss it somewhere before lowering down onto his member which dripped with pre cum. His eyes roll back as any and all control he had over his own body dissipates.

The bed creaks against the wall as you start fucking him. He goes to grab your waist but you pin his hands above his head before two horns form from her head. He couldn't be terrified even if he wanted to be as you start going at an inhumane pace. He feels himself release inside of you. But that doesn't stop you from grinding on him at an insane speed.

"Don't you feel so good, hm?" Y/n tilts her head with a smirk. I can't even answer as my mind goes blank. "y-yes please, more -more uh -" he stopped trying to form a coherent sentence as soon as he started.

Definitely not how he expected his first time to be, he wasnt complaing though. But just when he thought it couldn't get crazier two giant black and gold wings sprout from behind you, and at this point, the bed is pushing a hole into the wall.

Choso feels another orgasm coming, but before he can say anything yo reach forward and start kissing him deeply. The taste of blood mixes in when you bite down on his lip.

Once you pull away a trail of blood and spit, fall onto his chin, but he doesn't try to wipe it away as you continue to fuck him like your life depended on it.

He cums again but it more intense this time. "Oh fuck- ple- please I can't take it it anymore s-slow down- ngh~"

He begs not really wanting you to stop but you finally cum making a mess on his abdomen and chest. Just when he thought he was done your spasms were enough to make him cum again.

You pull off of him and leave the room he stares at the ceiling. But before you even return, fatigue washes over him.

The next day

The next morning, choso wakes up to the sun shining in his face. trying to remember what happened last night. He quickly shoots up and looks around and realizes he's back in his own bedroom. Did last night really happen? His face heats up at the thought.

He plops back down, unknowing of the hidden eyes watching him.

[t0kidal]

Oops I summoned a Demon

After going through several ideas, (celestial reader/Kalego’s Lilith reader, a Celestial reader just chilling, talking to Narnia or Baal because the desire to deliver a beat down on em is SO strong.) 

(we don’t talk about the “turn man into dogboy”/nyan koi au)  

I know this was done before... but what if someone summons a demon? ehhh? ehh? 

Initially this was gonna be something about Balam accidentally summoning a Human (sassy and bold) to the netherworld BUT then I realized that this might’ve flowed... better-ish? If he was human summoning a demon. 

A very devilish demon...

~~~

The Human world was fully aware of the celestials high above them and the demon world down below. But while all the planes were aware of the other, very rarely did they interact. With the exception of celestials blessing humanity or devil-kind coming to fuck around up top. Humans, were not able to transcend the borders of their realities... at least not without “help”. 

Was the ability to summon demons particularly frowned upon? Not really? But all knowledge regarding such is held under lock and key, you’d need to report your intentions and such before performing such rituals. 

You can imagine how much of a pain immigration is.

~~~

You take a look at your surroundings, had this situation been different you would’ve thought it was quite homely. Vibrant greenery just outside the window, a floor plan that looked as though it was built to compensate the small green house in it (a serious plethora of plants and succulents)... Obviously the masked man in front of you was a big soft nerd but you only got that last bit from the various pickled... things... And freshly cleaned beakers and vials.

The man in question took the opportunity to scoot... away from you? Was he scared of you? 

You couldn’t help the downright malicious chuckle escaping your throat. 

Boldly stepping out of the summoning circle, ignoring the brief pain of the barrier runes screaming at you, you approach the man. Your heels, shoeless but stone cold, striking the wooden floor beneath you with sharp clacks, tail curling and coiling in vexatious glee. 

Pretty soon... you towered over the man as he failed to take the opportunity to rise off the ground. 

You take note that, while prone, he was still pretty big, but you weren’t exactly a lightweight either. 

You’re now standing over him. Feet on either side of his waist, you grab his tie and pull him up as you bend forward from the hips to come nose to nose with a wicked grin. 

“Pfft, You don’t know anything about me... do you?” Surely no normal human would be dumb enough to summon a demon still...

You let him go, turning away and popping up on his desk, crossing one leg over the other.

“Now then. How can I help you?”

You liked your fun but business is as business does. 

“A-ah... uhmm... To be honest, I wasn’t sure I’d get this far....” As he stands your notes were correct.... was he human? He was built like a bear. “Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee?”

The moment this man spoke you had to shake your head and make sure you weren’t charmed by some kind of spell... does he hear himself? That voice...

‘Oh no. He’s cute.’

“No no... no? thank you? Uh... just... tell me what you summoned me for and we can... strike a deal.” Everyone summoned you or some other demon when they needed something.. more or less moral... what profound and not so innocent desire does this-

“I was wondering if... I could study... You...”

See? There we go, why would you think he was any di-

“What I mean is that, humans or we as humans don’t have much knowledge on demonic features. And I was hoping if, over the course of... I think a year? Maybe longer... that you’d let me study you?”

Ah.. “You do realize that, as it stands right now, Humans are celestial pets and demons toys right? Our kind gets along but make no mistake... should humans prove irksome... Anyways why exactly should I grant you this information?”

He’s a tool... a fool... a pawn in the political scheme across the masses of humanity’s lack of humanity. Woe be to that unfulfilled romance, shot down before it could start. 

“Actually, I work in a hospital... If it helps the case - don’t look at me like that. And we cater to Celestials, Humans, and Demons alike -- though the former most and latter most are extremely rare... but recently we had a patient come in..." his already deep dulcets drop with a grave and solemn tone... “He’s a young demon boy now living with a human host family... but his body...”

...

“How old?”

He sighs and closes his eyes, bracing himself before opening them again. 

“He’s 14.”

~~~

Balam, as you later learned, was right to have gotten clearance to summon you. While the demon population in the human world was an extremely low percent... you don’t exactly need to be a citizen to commit a crime. Humans, Demons, Celestials, are all a danger to each other as much as assets for their selfish goals. (The celestials don’t like to phrase their meddling blessings as such)

Unauthorized movement between worlds, the transfer of goods from humans to parts of them, demons to parts of demons, even celestials (though much rarer than the aforementioned)... it was hard to finish it once someone started it.

It’s organized, with a long confusing trail. Full of deceitful selfish people.

~~~

You feel a fire engulf your countenance at ‘14′.

“Where...”

“I’m sorry?”

You wanted to know, course he probably doesn’t but... You were about to commit a murder. You just need to know, “Where are those BASTARDS” 

To you, two parties are at fault for ruining this child’s life. If he’s here in critical conditions with a host family and all alone there are two reasons. Reason number one, the child’s demonic parents; in the netherworld life is precious. If they were neglectful enough to have allowed something this severe to happen it could also be said that they had a direct hand in it. Reason number two, whoever it was on the other side that they were dealing with, probably some sicko human who wanted to use his demon parts for some kind of unfounded ritua-

Your thoughts are cut off as a TSHHH and a white foam fills your vision.

“PwfaH”

You wipe it out of your face and realize your mana caused a small fire...

The human in front of you quickly dropped the fire extinguisher, and if not for his next words you would’ve thought you pissed him off...

“Excuse me.. I’m sorry about that. But I’d like to reaffirm a few things, the reason you were called here is to gain more knowledge for that boy’s treatment, his host family has already grown fond of him and called for me to be his personal physician and to help him recover. I think that both through the study of your demonic traits and your presence during examinations, it’d work wonders for him. I promise you that no additional harm will come to either of you and that you will be cared for during your time here.”

He says this all so earnestly. He had almost knelt down to maintain eye level with you and there was no where to look but into his dark eyes. A human with a passion...

But would you let this sway you? No... at least not by too much.

“Then, let’s get on with this.” You conjure a pen and parchment, the contract.

“You, uhh whatever your name is,”

“Shichiro, er Balam Shichiro.” 

“Alright then, Shichiro, will sign this contract under the following terms. One, you enter this contract willingly and your intents are nothing more than to learn about the demonic body for medical/scientific research. Two, you will not cause me harm and will protect me from harm should it come our way for the duration of our contract. Three, should you fail to fulfil these terms I reserve the right to eat you.”

“W-Eat me?!”

Oh that’s so unfair, even surprised he’s cute.

“Yes. According to legend, human flesh does wonders for a demon. And it should be easy enough to avoid. Now about your conditions?”

He only briefly hesitates.

“One, you enter this contract willingly and will allow me to study your b-body for mecial or scientific research.. Two, I will not cause you any harm.. Three, should you fail to be of help to me or this research I reserve the right... t-to...”

“...?”

“....”

“Well?”

“I- Hmm... I.. reserve the right to... have you stay here... in the human world... until further notice...?”

How sweet, he’s not comfortable with the idea of controlling someone’s fate.

“Alright, and now... I know the mood for this is awful but I’m gonna need a little kiss.”

“Huh?” Balam, despite the tense and uncomfortable atmosphere could feel a carmine hue spread across his face from ear to ear. Much to his chagrin, it seems to lighten the demoness’s mood a bit.

You only nod at him, affirming his fears.

“Listen, I know you might not like the prospect... but it’s what’s needed to seal the deal. I’m sure you’ve heard of succubus before hmm?”

Now hyper aware of his position before you, he stands upright and takes a step back flushing down to his neck. 

You sigh, an easy going smile lighting on your face as you tap your lips. “C’mon a quick peck will work just as well.” 

He looks like he’s just getting even more red so you opt to hop off the desk and stand before him. Asking,

“May I?”

And finally receiving a nod in response. 

He leans down, and just as you said. 

A quick peck is all it took.

[monster-disaster]

[monsters] Neighbors

Thoughts about living with monsters- You live in an apartment with monsters all around.

An orc family lives above you, and they’re the sweetest neighbors you’ve ever had. The wife loves inviting you over for coffee and a bit of gossip. Her stories fill the air with warmth as she pours your cup and chats about the neighborhood or shares a delicious new pastry she’s baked. Her husband? He’s a gentle giant, always ready to roll up his sleeves and help out around your small flat. Whether it’s fixing a leaky faucet or carrying heavy groceries up the stairs, he’s there before you even ask.

And then, there are the babies; two adorably chubby little ones with soft, green cheeks and big, curious eyes. You’ve become their go-to babysitter, which means plenty of afternoons filled with giggles and messy faces.

But when night falls, it’s a different story.

The ceiling might as well be paper-thin, with their gravelly voices and laughter rolling through the floorboards. Sometimes, those conversations turn into... well, more intimate moments and the babies aren’t just cute, they’ve got lungs that could rival any set of bagpipes. Their cries often jolt you awake in the middle of the night, heart racing.

Even with the sleepless nights, you never find it in yourself to complain, though. There’s a warmth to their noise, a liveliness that fills your small flat with a sense of family, even if it comes with a few sleep-deprived mornings.

Beneath you on the first floor lives a goblin who’s practically made it his life’s mission to comment on every noise you make. You do your best to avoid him, but it’s only a matter of time before you bump into him, leaning against his doorframe with arms crossed and an unimpressed scowl etched on his face.

He never misses an opportunity to complain.

“Your steps are like thunder up there. Ever heard of walking lightly?” he grumbles, or “How many times do I have to tell you? Lift the chairs, don’t drag them! Sounds like a damn avalanche down here!” And that’s not even the worst of it. The day he leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing as he muttered, “And for god’s sake, put a pillow over your face next time you play with your vibrating friend,” your face burned hotter than a forge. You were sure the ground might split open beneath you right then and there.

Since that conversation, you’ve found yourself tiptoeing around your flat, trying to keep your footsteps as light as possible, but even with your efforts, you know the next run-in with him is just around the corner, along with another list of grievances he’s been stewing over.

To your right lives a wolf-shifter, and for the most part, things between you are easygoing. He’s a quiet neighbor, the type who nods at you in the hallway and even offers a polite smile now and then. But his love life? That’s where the peace ends. His one-night stands, in particular, are the worst. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve had to comfort his partners the morning after, wiping away their tears when they realize that "just one night" really means just that. They always seem to hope for more, for something lasting, and it’s always you who ends up playing the sympathetic neighbor, nodding along as they pour out their hearts. Of course, it's your fault too. You should learn how to mind your own business instead of feeling sorry for crying women. And men.

And then there’s his rut. The first time you realized what was going on, you nearly dropped your coffee cup. The howls, the desperate growls, and the unmistakable... fervor of it all carried straight through the walls. After those nights, it’s impossible to even think about making eye contact with him. Weeks go by before you feel like you can look at him without your mind immediately replaying all the sounds you heard. And he, of course, acts like nothing happened.

To your left lives a succubus, and teasing you seems to be her favorite pastime. She’s always around when you come or go, somehow knowing exactly when to time her appearances. She leans casually against her doorframe, dressed in barely-there lingerie or a robe that hangs loose enough to leave little to the imagination, her lips curling into a knowing smile as she catches your eye. It’s impossible not to feel your cheeks heat up under her gaze, especially when she purrs a playful remark. Her eyes linger just a moment too long. And those paper-thin walls? They do nothing to block the sultry sounds she makes late into the night, sounds you’re sure are meant just for you.

You tell yourself you are holding your ground, that you won’t give in, but every sly comment she throws your way and every time she catches you with a flustered look makes you worry that it’s only a matter of time before you find yourself at her door, falling right into her trap.

Across the hall lives an elderly minotaur who, bless her heart, has made it her personal mission to match you up with one of her grandkids. No matter how busy you are, she has a sixth sense for catching you at the worst possible times. If you are running late for an appointment, she is suddenly in the hallway, eager to chat about her "really successful and recently divorced" grandson. Or maybe you’re lugging bags of groceries, arms aching under their weight, and just as you are almost to your door, she appears, excited to tell you that another one of her grandsons, who just came back from abroad, is finally ready to settle down. You try to smile and listen, nodding along as she goes on about their good jobs, kind hearts, and how they need someone like you in their lives. And of course, you don’t have the heart to cut her off, even when you’re in a rush or your arms feel like they might fall off from holding the bags. So, more often than not, you find yourself standing there, smiling politely and listening for far longer than you’d planned, as she talks on and on about her grandkids’ achievements while her eyes twinkle with hope.

“Y/N!” The goblin’s voice rings out just as you step into the elevator. Your name rolling off his tongue is already dripping with complaints. "I'm sorry!" You almost shout when you catch a glimpse of his frown while frantically jabbing the button for your floor. "Y/N!" As the elevator finally slips shut, cutting off his grumbling, the tension drains from your shoulders, but your relief is short-lived when you hear the familiar ding and the doors open. "Hey," the wolf-shifter greets you casually before taking your place in the metal box. You manage a stiff nod and a quiet "hey" while drifting your gaze to the floor, unable to hold his gaze for more than a second. When he disappears behind the thick doors, you let out a sigh and shift the bags in your arms as you fumble for your keys. Just as you manage to find them, the door in front of you swings open, and you force a smile as the elderly minotaur across the hall greets you warmly. “Hello, dear!” she beams. “Would you like to come in? My grandson, you know, the one I told you about, is visiting, and I thought you two should finally meet!” Your mouth opens, and your brain scrambles for a polite excuse, but before you can get a word out, her grandson appears behind her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Maybe next time, Nan,” he says with a smile, steering her back into the apartment. You share a moment of mutual understanding before the door clicks shut. Just as you breathe a sigh of relief, again, another door swings open, again, and you freeze, momentarily forgetting how to breathe. The succubus leans against her door, draped in dark purple lingerie that hugs her curves like a second skin. The bralette barely manages to contain her generous figure, and her sultry smile only deepens as she takes in your flustered expression. “Hello, Y/N,” she purrs. Your cheeks flare up, and you barely stammer out a weak “Not today!” as you nearly stumble into your apartment. You can hear her laughter echoing behind you, but your attention is quickly snatched by the buzzing of your phone. Your bags hit the floor with a heavy thud, and you cringe, fully aware the goblin will have a field day with this. You glance at your screen, catching a new message from your friend upstairs: The kids are with their dad. Fancy a coffee? How about you come down? you quickly reply, no way willing to risk leaving your apartment again today. Sure, comes the reply almost instantly. Did you hear about the party that harpy threw on the fourth floor? She drives me mad! No, you think, but leave the message unanswered. Of course, you didn’t hear about the party. How could you, with the orc babies wailing through most of the night?

[quarterlifekitty]

if devils were real (they'd be in the military)

john price/succubus!reader a little bit of a backstory as I try to expand this post into a little series part 2

There are two ideal victims for a succubus: virgins and divorcees. John is one of the latter, and ideal for many other reasons besides. He's married to his career— his extensive time away makes it difficult to maintain relationships. Impractical, he says.

The best part of all? He's an honorable man. Which is just another way to say that he's been fighting his temptations and human nature longer and harder than he should. The unused sexual energy comes off of him in staggering waves, as a result. It's imbued in everything he does. You could probably live off of shaking his hand if you really had to.

All in all, you're happy you found him. He's a quality meal ticket. Not an ideal career— he could expire at a moment's notice, but that's often the tradeoff when it comes it nutrition for your kind.

Price is a bit of an odd last name, isn't it? They say a lot of last names in Europe just go back to the vocation of your ancestors— Smith, Tailor, Cooper. But what could Price be?

John didn't know the real answer to that, but his grandmother told him (very much against his mother's wishes) that it refered to the price of a soul when someone made a deal with a demon. That her own great-great-great grandfather fell in love with a devil, and she fell in return, and had a great big family— thirteen kids of their own. Just after he was put to bed, he'd hear his mum scolding her for telling him tales like that, but the damage was done. And she kept telling more and more— about demons, devils, the circles in the kingdoms of hell, the Malebranche keeping corrupt politicians under boiling pitch, the ukoback's fried foods and fireworks, that the thunder he heard during storms was the booming voice of Duke Amdusias—

And the conniving, pitiable succubi and incubi. Lesser demons that could visit him in his dreams as his greatest desire, all to steal his energy— his lifeforce.

His mother was especially irate after that particular tale.

From the first moment smelled your pheromones drifting into the air, he knew what you were. He knew that you would take what you wanted, and he would remember this as only a sensual dream after you flew back into the night from whence you came. And he let you. Welcomed it, in fact. Reveled in your scent building in the air as you practiced your craft, bringing him to climax again and again.

You yourself did some rather masterful acting, but he could tell you never came. Never mix work and pleasure, right? You wouldn't want to look unkempt, or god forbid, vulnerable while you extracted your meal from him.

Don't worry, darl', he thinks to himself, I'm keeping track.

[lovetei]

If a jealous gaze could truly burn a hole onto someone's head, the head of that human exchange student would have been long turned into ashes.

You, the hell renowned lust demon, were replaced by some short, puny little dumb sheep? Hilarious.

You had better chemistry with each of that sheep's lovers, people knew it!

You became Lucifer's assistant, and one of the only demons he trusts.

You're Mammon's partner in each one of his modeling gigs.

You cosplay and play games with Leviathan, hell, he even let's you sit by when he's having a meeting as the marine captain.

And you were Satan's favorite, libraries every weekend and cat cafes almost everyday, the grandmother's of the streets practically sees the two of you as a married couple.

Asmodeus? Hell, he let's you use his make-up without any questions asked.

You were also Beelzebub's favorite cook, he said no one could ever match your skills in cooking.

And of course, Belphegor's favorite pillow.

You're not going to let this sheep off the hook that easy.

[edenspoem]

succubus!reader and loser!ellie tribbing? Like... with a vibrator...

Cursing you rn for plaguing my thoughts

if we draw on the basis of succubus strap, then we could imagine succubus!reader coming equipped with a vibrator. now, would it be just any run-of-the-mill vibrator? no. demons being demons, I think imp-intents would convince them otherwise into bringing something over-powered, stamped in warning labels (warning: your clit may just explode!), and of an intend to inspire fear; dauntingly looking. having ellie under your edict, an ankle cupped in your fist and spread wide 'till her hamstring stung, and forced to observe the way her and your cunt roll over the bulbous tip of a vibrator held by you— whining and weeping her freckled undereyes to puffed reds, is your prize at the crown of an inferno. cauldron of lusty tears at the tail of a rainbow. you can feel the force of her legs fighting back against that drilling sensation, the wants of enclosure around the vibration that made her clit feel pricked, engorged, oversensitive and screaming. and while you may not be the mother of demons, she'd still address you as if you were the mother of succubi. voice holding the vulnerability of a fucktoy. "h—hey.. can you turn the setting down? don't wanna come yet, m—mama." rasps transformed into elated gasps inwards, yet obstructed by the moans begging to filter out. she's staring up at you with these doey, watery eyes, ones you would see on kneels begging for forgiveness. and her mouth is slightly cracked, taking slim heaps of air her reddened, little button nose couldn't steady out. control being in your thrall, and the appeal of fragile girls under you relying on your mercy as their pussies happily eat up whatever you've got shoved in, or on them— is the exact persuasion that drives you on. either that, or just how her pussy: slicked from pearl to sheet in milky nectar your throat gulped to drink, and beautifully spreading folds over the vibrating head, so close to your own— drives you on. the details. the consequences of your torture. "mh-mn ellie, y'know whose rules we're playing by, right?" you ask sweetly, shaking your head side to side, and she nods with hesitation, folding her lip in to wetten it up prior to humming, "mhm." contorting her features softly, like she could loathe the sound if she wanted to. "mine." reminding her, you angle the vibes shaft upon her abdomen, and quickly scoot her further under you, throwing her into audible shock. impending your sensual shadow over her, pressing your own pussy into the toy so that it would press into hers. "fuuuckkk." you groan in delight. toss your head back, out of ecstasy, out of the ability to handle this. contrarily, ellie groans in overstimulation, "ughhh!" and scrunches her face like pain is present, breaking her lips open into a gasping, light-headed mess, choking and whining on overload, "f-fuhuck—" squirts all over the plastic without remorse for how filthy the scene looks, digging nails into the flesh of her lifted knees for dear life.

++ and she'd be bucking and knocking her clenched feet unknowningly into your backside the entire time. squirming around and laughing torturedly. screwing these worried little eyes down at her crotch. ughh I live for loser!sub!ellie.

definitely has a thing for wings though. takes one good look at yours and she's creaming unprompted. [big text version up for request] [ellie img from caitsgalaxy on pinterest]