Bad Romance

Ellie hear me out…

Chrissy joining the yandere fruity four to make it the fruity five

*drops mic and walks off*

/GRABS UR MIC AND THROWS IT, KNOCKING U OUT. GET BACK HERE.

Chrissy would be such an addition to the fruity four. Feeling indebted to Eddie for saving her life from Vecna, she follows him around like a puppy trying to offer her help whenever he takes it, even though he seriously just wants her to stay safe. But then the danger passes over Hawkins (for now) and Chrissy catches wind of the strange absence of Eddie and his newfound friends from their normal schedules. He makes it to Hellfire weekly, and she usually sees him around his general hangouts, but he often is accompanied by one or a few of his friends--plus one that she's not so familiar with. You.

To say she's infatuated is an understatement. It's not clear why or how she falls so hard so fast, but she does, and thus she starts sticking her nose into yours and the fruity four's business. She can see how weird Eddie gets when she asks him questions, so she tries to get you alone--but you're never alone, you've always got Nancy or Robin or the boys on your arm or at your side. And that Steve Harrington is always staring her down, he catches her every time she's looking at you and she usually ends up shrinking back at how intense his gaze is. And if it's not just him, then Nancy's sharp eyes or Robin's soft ones lock with hers and don't look away until she buckles.

It's quite the difficult task to get her fill of you when you're always being protected, but eventually she'll find her way to your house and climb in through your bedroom window, hoping to at least find something she can take as a souvenir. But when she gets there, you're nowhere to be found--and waiting for her instead is Steve, perched on the edge of your bed with his arms folded like he's been waiting for her to show up. He's definitely a hardass to her, thinking she's got some kind of ulterior motive or she's an agent for Vecna or something, until Eddie comes crashing through the window after her to intervene. Babbles on about how Chrissy's a good girl and makes a case for her, and lucky he does, because Steve when he's jealous comes off like he's prepared to kill her just to keep her quiet.

Thankfully it doesn't come to that. Eddie's happy to introduce her to you, let you get to know each other a bit with supervision, until he and the others and you can gauge how you all feel about Chrissy. And seeing you two giggle and get along makes at least some of them smile, while others (Steve and Robin) feel pangs of jealousy. They'll learn to get along, though--especially when they find out how manipulative Chrissy can be to lower the suspicion about them and keep people away from you, plus how good of a liar she's learned to be. Whether that's to sway the outsiders into thinking nothing of your "friendship", or helping the four keep some truths from you that such a pretty little thing doesn't need to worry about.

HEDAKYLO ➣ MASTERLIST

Under the cut you will find a masterlist of all my work! It has been alphabetized & organized accordingly. I really hope this helps you all out & makes navigation easier on mobile!

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・✶ ｡ﾟyou finally let mammon feel all of you for the first time. warnings : f. reader, some possessive talk, mammon goes raw for the first time.

“fuck.” mammon spits quietly as he kneels over you, the base of his fat cock in his hand while he guides the blunt head through your folds.

“ya sure ‘bout this, baby? t-thought about this s-so much—“ he curses softly when he fumbles slightly, the other hand that’s resting on your waist tightening as he tries to line himself up again, a little too eager to sink into your tight cunt and feel all of you.

your lips part to answer him but you only manage a whimper and a nod when the fat head finally pushes into your already flexing walls and mammon groans, gliding past the spots that have your thighs twitching around his waist to force even more of his cock inside of you.

he feels like the rooms spinning, your walls tightening and sucking him in the deeper he goes and he can feel every flex of your muscles against his cock until he’s almost hunched over you, resting his forehead against your shoulder when he finally bottoms out, the hand that was previously on your waist moving to twist in the sheets beside you.

“o-oh fuck, baby. you’re so tight, fuck! ya feel so good.” mammon grunts, the muscles in his back expanding with each of his shakey exhales as he tries to catch his breath above you—a little embarrassed at how close he already feels but how can you blame him when he can feel every twitch and flex of your pussy around him, arousal pooling in his lower stomach as he hisses through his teeth before finally drawing his hips back.

“‘ts g-gonna feel so good fillin’ up this perfect—fuckin’—pussy, all mine.” his voice is low, slightly shakey with anticipation and need as he follows each word with a sharp thrust, cursing under his breath when you babble and grab at him so needily with each smack of his hips against yours, his cock thickening and twitching against the addictive, needy hug of your body—your walls almost desperately trying to pull him back each time he rocks his hips “oh, baby. ‘ll give it to ya—it’s all y-yours too.”

mammon growls wordlessly, leaning over you once again as his hands grab at the pillow next to your head—his other hand digging almost painfully into your waist to help with pulling your hips down to meet each of his heavy thrusts, your body clapping against his as he fucks into you, panting over the skin of your neck before his lips are gliding over the most sensitive parts that have you keening below him.

“‘s it feel good? yeah? shiiiit—ya drive me fuckin’ crazy. ya love—“ he takes a ragged breath, rolling his hips into yours a little sloppily before he groans again “y-ya love how good i make ya feel, don’t ya?” and you whine, grabbing at his broad shoulders to keep yourself some what grounded as his thrusts speed up, and he curses roughly when you leave red marks on his smooth, tanned skin, his pace stuttering when it only makes his cock throb inside you—his lips parted as he pants and growls in your ear, his thrusts loud and clapping.

“goddamn, wanna feel all of ya, baby—ughhhh—“ the silver haired demon babbles, his brows furrowing as he drinks in the sound of your sweet moans and the feeling of your walls around him, memorising every dip of your body. “f-fuckin’ cum for me. holy shit—i gotta feel ya, fuck!”

© 2022 garoujo. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

Anything For You - Yandere!Yuta X Chubby!Reader

Yandere AU

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Smut (Very Passionate, Much Desire)

Pairing: Yuta X Reader

Words: 23,040

Warnings: Minor Fatphobia, Self-Esteem Issues, a long ass rant about beauty standards, mentions of mental health and a brief mention of suicide (in passing, really), a few instances that could be interpreted as eating disorders. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: I am both super excited and nervous about this one! I will say, I am really proud with how this one turned out, and as this is the third time I am writing this post out, I really hope it works this time lol. I do apologize for taking so long to post, it turned out way longer than I anticipated, but I think it’s well worth the wait. I do not think Yuta would ever act like this, this is just my interpretation of the archetype (and also a very self indulgent fic). As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

Disclaimer: Everyone has their own definition of what they consider to be chubby. As a chubby person myself, I kept this in mind while writing, and did my best not to incorporate specific markers on the OC’s appearance. Just know that while there aren’t many explicit physical markers of the how chubby the reader is (other than the mention of plush thighs once, I think), this fic is meant to be read with the intention that the reader is chubby. Does this mean you cannot read this fic if you are not chubby or do not consider yourself chubby? Of course not!! I just thought that this was important to let you know. I also 1000% do not condone yandere behaviour.

This one is for the ones who feel like they cannot fit into a certain ideal or beauty standard society has deemed the norm. This one is for the ones that have felt, or continue to feel unworthy or deserving of love because of their weight, and/or how they look. This is for anyone who needs it.

This one’s for me.

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she’s mine ; george x reader

(L-R) John Lennon, George Harrison, Pete Best, Paul McCartney and Stuart Sutcliffe at the Indra Club, Hamburg, 17 August 1960

request: 25. w/ George? 25- “You so much as touch a single hair on her/his head, I will tear your spine clear out of your body.” a/n: why do i always have the same plot???? like ur friends with a beatle and surprise, they like you lol pairing: george x reader summary: you visit george, your friend, in Germany and his bandmate, Stuart flirts with you. george doesn’t like that and he reveals something warnings: swearing year: 1960 word count: 785

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there were very few things that could take barbatos away from his work. timeline glitches or the occasional furry rodent, perhaps. today, one of those things just happened to be you.

your head laid on his chest, while the rest of you sprawled out on top of him. however heavy you might be, barbatos knew he could've gotten up to continue working at any point in the night. hours later— now 2am, barbatos remained, counting your breath by the gentle rise and fall of your shoulders.

this was nice, he couldn't help but admit.. you were nice. you were kind and inquisitive, always finding opportunities to surprise him. you also constantly searched for ways to give him longer breaks. which, while unneeded, was appreciated nonetheless. this escapade to the castle guest room just so happened to be one of those attempts.

he found your weight against him rather pleasant, like a heavy blanket, draping him in comfort and warmth. barbatos glanced down at your sleeping face, the corners of his lips pulling up softly. his fingers traced feather-light shapes along your back. though he was starting to grow restless as the hours passed, he had no intention of possibly waking you by moving.

and admittedly, he thought, maybe he might've needed this. maybe.

you've been tired these days as well, haven't you? besides your breathing and the occasional murmur, you haven't moved at all since falling asleep on him. your steady heartbeat was nearly in sync with his own. if he stayed here another several hours, would it fall in line at some point?

maybe you both needed this, he finally decided, contemplating what he should tell the little ds when they inevitably come looking for him for tasks to fulfill.

dividers from @/clutteredfun

promise (raphael/gender neutral!reader, tmnt)

as with a lot of the stuff i’ve been posting recently, part of this has been sitting in my drafts for ages and i’m thrilled to finally get it done! first time writing for any of the boys and of course i had to go with my favorite. hope you guys enjoy! and feel free to send prompts my way, i’d love to write more for this fandom!

You wonder what time it is.

It was well past midnight the last time you looked at your cell. You’re almost afraid to look again, tempted though you are. You’ve done just about everything you could think of to distract yourself - thumbed through one of your favorite books, played a video game, messed around on your phone. Nothing worked. 

You blow out a breath as you tilt your head back, staring in frustrated silence at the dark ceiling. You’ve got a late night news report running on the television, just in case you could glean anything off of it about the boys’ condition, but it’s doing little to calm the increasingly panicked thoughts running through your head.

They’re fine, you tell yourself. Stop worrying.

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love's no problem in my hands

includes: barbatos x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

wc: 1.5k | rated g | m.list | cross-posted on ao3

a/n: just had to get this out quick i swear im on hiatus lololol. for @messysketchyobeyme as part of the @omsecretsanta2022 event. i hope you enjoy!!

please reblog <33

Now, he keeps his feelings close to his chest, aware that he’s not the only one who holds them for you. That knowledge should be souring, should bring him to his senses, but it doesn’t. Maybe it’s because of you, because of how you make time for him, make him feel like the only demon in the world when you look at him, make him believe, if only for a second, that impossibilities are possible. Okay, yeah, it’s definitely because of you.

So he holds his feelings, keeps them to himself, and it’s okay. He’s not prone to jealousy, or possessiveness, has learned over the many, many years to be satisfied with what he has, and what he has is more than enough. He has Diavolo and a place in a wonderful community filled with wonderful people, and your friendship, which is more than he could’ve dreamed of.

Barbatos doesn’t know how it started. 

Well, alright, he knows when he first noticed it. But he has a feeling the feelings had been there, building, culminating, for a lot longer than that. 

He first noticed his affection for you on a spring day, one of the warmest the year had seen so far. You’d shed your uniform jacket, rolled up the sleeves, and gone outside during lunch, claiming the quad as your own. Claiming the attention of everyone on the quad. And like moths to a flame, everyone had followed, as they always did. Him included. 

“It feels so nice out,” you’d chirped, face turned up to the non-existent sun, and Barbatos had become aware of a buzz under his skin, a curious warmth that he’d never really felt before. It didn’t take a genius for him to place the feelings, and he accepted them a lot easier than he thought he would, with them clicking into place like the last piece of a previously hidden puzzle. He finally understood what everyone was talking about, finally understood why people were pushed to invent, to create, to conquer in the name of love.

Of course, while he was going through all of these realizations and acceptions, time had moved forward, and you were now surrounded by everyone, with him on the outside, like always, slightly distanced, the few feet like an uncrossable gorge. But you, you with your crooked half-smile and wonderful gleam in your eyes, had looked through, to him, smile somehow widening just for him, and that had made it all okay, made that gorge seem like nothing more than the few feet it actually was.

Now, he keeps his feelings close to his chest, aware that he’s not the only one who holds them for you. That knowledge should be souring, should bring him to his senses, but it doesn’t. Maybe it’s because of you, because of how you make time for him, make him feel like the only demon in the world when you look at him, make him believe, if only for a second, that impossibilities are possible. Okay, yeah, it’s definitely because of you.

So he holds his feelings, keeps them to himself, and it’s okay. He’s not prone to jealousy, or possessiveness, has learned over the many, many years to be satisfied with what he has, and what he has is more than enough. He has Diavolo and a place in a wonderful community filled with wonderful people, and your friendship, which is more than he could’ve dreamed of.

“What are you thinking so hard about?” you tease, poking him lightly with the blunt end of your pencil. He blinks, coming back to himself, coming back to the club meeting, and gives you a half smile. The club was one you both co-ran, some ‘community wellness’ thing that you were a lot more passionate about than he. But he put his everything in it, for you.

“I apologize, I must have been distracted. Remind me of our discussion,” 

“Barbatos? Distracted?” Your face is bright, cheerful. “Who are you and what have you done with the real Barbatos?” 

“Funny, really,” he returns, and the laugh he is gifted with is quickly saved, pressed into the scrapbook of his memories, to be taken out and admired every now and again, treasured close to his chest. 

“Anyway…” you pull him back into the meeting with vigor, with enthusiasm, as with everything you do, and he lets himself be pulled willingly. What a fool he must be, to take the chains from your hand and wrap them around his wrist himself.

Once the meeting is over you check your D.D.D., cursing. He directs an inquisitive look at you, and you grin guiltily. The school is dark, and mostly empty, and it feels like the two of you are the only ones in the world.

“It’s a lot later than I thought it was,” you explain. “Is there any way I can beg a ride off of you? I’d be really thankful.” 

“I suppose,” Barbatos replies, making a show of being long-suffering. You draw out his humor in a way no one else does, and he’s grateful, so immensely grateful, that you see his dry, deadpan remarks for what they are and don’t just think he’s dreadfully boring. 

“Thank you so much!” You squeeze his side in a hug, apparently not feeling the staggering static that emanates from where the two of you touch, that sends shivers of electricity up and down his entire frame. “I owe you one.” 

“You always say that,” he accuses lightly. “At this point, I believe you owe me a lot more than that.” 

“Probably.” You shrug, unrepentant. He really shouldn’t find that shamelessness so charming. 

Being in a car with you is like torture. Torture he can stand, revels in, delights in. 

You’re close, within touching range. Not that he’d ever put his hands on you without your express and explicit permission, but the forced intimacy gets to him. You’re so comfortable in his car, shown by the way you commandeer the radio, the way you dig through his glovebox like it was yours for the taking. 

(Everything of his is yours for the taking, for the having, for the keeping.) 

“What’s this?” you ask, more to yourself than anything, but he looks over anyway. You’ve got a CD in your grip, reading the back. 

“That,” he says, “is my favorite CD. So be careful with it, please.”

“It’s your favorite?” 

He nods, and you give him that crooked smile, ejecting the CD that was in the player, exchanging it out. 

“We don’t have to listen to it,” he tries, and you wave him off. 

“Of course we do! It’s your favorite, and I want to hear it too!” 

 You pull pieces of him to the surface, almost by accident, and he stands there in front of you, exposed. But you’re always careful with the new parts of him that are revealed, treating them as preciously and as kindly as you’d treat an invaluable glass sculpture.

The first track starts and he keeps his gaze on the road, humming along. He can feel your eyes on him, and eventually, eventually gives into the urge to look over, meeting your eyes. 

“I can see why you like it,” you murmur, quiet for once. “It’s very…” you hold the words in your mouth, tasting them, savoring them. “It’s very you.” 

“Thanks, I think.”

“You’re quite welcome.” 

It’s quiet in the car, aside from the CD, of course, but he doesn’t mind the silence. Never has. Others feel it as a pressure, but he doesn’t, and knows, despite your propensity to talk and laugh and be in constant motion, don’t either. It’s a comfort, to be in silence with you. 

The drive to the House of Lamentation takes forever. Isn’t nearly long enough.

When he pulls into the circle drive, past the immaculately pruned bushes and other ostentatious landscaping, he resists the urge to go slower, to coast at a snail’s pace. He’s better than that. Barely. 

“Thanks for the ride,” you say as he pulls to a stop, lowering the volume of the music. “I really appreciate it.” 

“Of course,” he says. “You know me. Barbatos: butler, glorified babysitter, and part-time chauffeur.” 

He’s rewarded again with your laugh, but it fades into something thoughtful, something intimate.

“You’re so much more than that,” you say, and when he looks over at you in muted surprise, you’re not returning his gaze, instead focused somewhere in the far-off distance, maybe in the far-off past. Either way, you blink and come out of it quickly, but don’t take your words back. Instead, you do something, that even with all of his overthinking, his planning, his habit of examining every possibility, he’d never seen coming: 

You lean over and kiss him on the cheek.

Your lips are warm, and dry, and un-lingering. He stares at you in shock as you pull away, heart pounding a mile a minute. 

“Well,” you say with another laugh, much more high-pitched and nervous than the others he’d heard from you, “thanks again. I’ll be going in now.” 

You slide out of his car quickly, crossing the distance between it and the door in seconds. He almost thinks you’re not going to look back, until you do, that damned crooked smile on your lips, fluttering your fingers in a wave, even as embarrassment and joy war in your eyes. 

It takes a long time, too long, for him to pull himself together enough to pull away from the House of Lamentation, and he has to take the most convoluted way home he can think of to fully rid himself of his blush– a herculean task, considering that kiss plays on repeat in his head, the memory of your smile almost tangible. Who would have thought a simple kiss on the cheek would have been enough to bring the always-composed, always-distant Barbatos back down to the realm of unstoppable, human emotion?

Maybe you returning his feelings isn’t as far-fetched a possibility as he’d thought. 

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

angelic alteration

om brothers x reader

wc : 1.k

warnings: nsfw, corruption kink based

synopsis : when Solomon and Diavolo can't fix the problem, it's up to Mc

a/n : thought the angel event (og) could use some more spice so I poured my entire spice rack on it

“Mc…I’m afraid we have bad news.”

You sighed into the receiver, “Yeah? You guys can’t reverse the magic, can you?”

“Nope!” Solomon chirped cheerfully, “Diavolo and Michael’s magic mixed together too strongly for us to reverse ourselves. You’ll just have to wait for them to go back to normal, or…”

“Or…what?”

“Well, this is just a theory, but what if you just corrupted the angelic magic and forced their demonic sides back out?”

“Corrupted, huh..? I like the sound of that.”

†

“I can feel the magic trying to stop me…how. stupidly. annoying.” Lucifer accentuated each word of his complaint with a sharp thrust, face pinched in concentration as sweat beaded at his temple. 

He’d be damned if something as trivial as a hexed bracelet from the celestial realm kept him from indulging in you, the one temptation he would never dare ignore. 

Your nails dug crescent moons into his shoulders, thighs squeezing at his hips tightly as you moaned and panted beneath him. “Lu-ci-fer! S-slow d-own!” 

He growled and sped up in response, snapping his hips into you harshly, “How dare they try to turn me back? I am the Avatar. Of. Pride!” Once again, each word was accentuated with a thrust, making his cock hit deeper and deeper each time. 

And he was so fucking proud each time he had you a moaning mess underneath him, crying out his name, begging him not to stop— you made his sin flood his entire body every time. 

An electric charge cracked through the air for a brief second before the bangle broke in half, magic forcibly shattering under Lucifer’s sheer prowess. 

He grinned sharply, capturing your legs against your chest in a mating press as he went even harder. His wings shedded to black, spanning out proudly behind him as the halo melted down into his horns. 

“I’m going to ruin you, do you hear me? You’re not leaving this bed- not tonight, or in the morning, or maybe even until tomorrow afternoon…I’m keeping you until I’ve had my fill.”

†

The sight of Mammon’s blue eyes peering up while his mouth was busy pleasuring you had always been a pretty sight— the shimmering halo was only a little bonus this time. 

But you wanted his horns to hold onto. “Just like that, Mams…doing so well, pretty boy.” Your hips rocked over his mouth, grinning down at him with gold flickering in your eyes. 

He was all about giving now that the bangle had taken hold, which even before, Mammon always keened when you sat on his face and just used him. 

The second born was moaning and whining and whimpering against your skin as his tongue lapped up everything he could, “Mmph- like this? ‘M I doing good, Mc?” 

“Y-yeah, baby, fuck— so good…” you carded your fingers through Mammon’s hair, feeling him get more and more excited before you lifted up off his face. 

And he was absolutely distraught with the lack of your taste, desperate cry leaving him as he tried to chase after you. “No, no, no! Mc, please, come back— wasn’t done, wanna taste you still, wanna make you feel good, please!” 

The laugh you let out made him whine even louder, fingers gripping frantically at your thighs. It was like a switch flipped, magic being overtaken by his greed. 

His eyes flickered gold like yours, a whiny growl escaping him. He forced you on your back within a second, mouth working at you even more desperately now as he held you down and took what he wanted— and he wanted to make you cum. 

“Jus’ let me, please let me make you cum— you taste so good, Mc, I don’t wanna stop. Want you to scream my name and yank my hair, grip my horns, just give me more- more, more, more!” 

†

A small shriek left Levi when you rammed against his prostate, hiccuped cries of your name following. His back arched, wings flaring out behind him, making you hit even deeper spots inside of him. 

With his new attitude, he’d been letting everyone else spend time with you and he was finally feeling the built up envy creep along his spine, right beside the spikes of pleasure. 

“Aww…look at you. So sweet for me, huh? Why so shy, Levi? Wasn’t this what you meant about strengthening connections?” 

Garbled sounds left him, courtesy of your fingers stuffed in his mouth. His eyes rolled back, hands gripping at your hips desperately, though it wasn’t clear if he was pushing you away or pulling you closer.

“How am I gonna know I’m doing good if you don’t tell me, ‘vi? C’mon, sweet thing, tell me. Or do you not want me?” 

It was like you asked the unthinkable. A loud whine left him and his tail returned, knocking the halo right off his head before it coiled around your abdomen. 

“No! I want you, I want you so badly, please keep fucking me— don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop!” Diamond shaped scales scattered across his body as the magic wore out. 

You cooed, thrusting into him sharply, making his body lurch, “Good boy, Leviathan..” 

†

“Fuck!” Satan cries out, fingers digging into his white wings to try and keep them from fluttering. His back arched almost painfully, loudly begging you to keep going. 

“Oh, look at you…” the coos that left you made him flush red, giving you a great sense of satisfaction. This was the most he’d been riled up since putting that ridiculous bangle on.

Your thighs were burning at the unforgiving pace you were riding him at, beads of sweat splashing onto his skin, so you decided to change the game a little. 

“Come on, Tannie, if you want it, work for it.” You settled your weight on top of him, ceasing your movements as you cockwarmed him instead. 

A displeased growl comes from the back of his throat, eyes snapping open with a glowing green. “Mc, move! Please!” 

Slowly, the halo above his head began to flicker and dim before it shattered, dissipating in the air. Another growl escaped him as his wings followed suit, tail lashing out like a whip. 

“That’s it— c’mon-!” You gasped when he yanked you forwards, chest pressing against his as his tail locked you in place. The only sounds that could leave you now were broken moans as he fucked you almost viciously. 

“You know how I feel about you fucking. teasing. me. Feels good doesn’t it? Yeah? Cause I’m not stopping. ‘M not stopping until I physically can’t fuck you anymore— fuck, I needed you.” 

†

Unabashed moans echo off the walls of Asmo’s bathroom as the fifth born writhes under your touch. The sound of water sloshing makes his cheeks burn fiery red and the sound of you moaning back at him makes it even worse. 

“W-wait! You d-don’t have to— oh!” 

“Shh, Azzy…’m just taking care of you. You were so hard and aching…could see it even though you tried to hide under the water.” 

The white feathers ruffled with pleasure (slowly shedded away and turning back), hips jerking frantically to chase the pleasure. The bangle’s magic was completely buried under how hot you made him feel and the feeling of you licking along the edges of his leathery wings increased it ten fold. 

“Yes, Mc, like that— don’t stop, just like that, just like that!” Amso curled over on you, horns knocking against your shoulder as he cried out even louder. 

You fisted his cock harder and swiped your thumb over the tip relentlessly, “Yeah? Made you feel so good, you corrupted yourself, huh? Pretty little Azzy…come on, cum.” 

The squeal he let out cracked halfway through, broken cries of your name following like a mantra. His hand encased yours, making sure you didn’t stop jerking him off. 

“K-keep going, don’t stop! Wanna cum for you again ‘n again, gotta make up for when I was giving you away to the others, please, please, let me cum again for you!”

†

“H-haaah…ah! M-Mc…what’re you..o-oh..doing?” 

“You said it made you happier seeing others get to eat, so…” you hummed, licking your lips before digging your tongue back into the slit of his cock, “I’m just..enjoying my meal…” 

Beel had always lost his cool when you went down on him, finding your mouth to be too good at pleasuring him. The growl he let out was something only a demon could make. 

The glowing of the bangle did nothing to deter you— in fact, you only laughed and peered up at him with the red sin of gluttony swirling through your irises. With another hum, you enveloped his cock in your mouth and forced your head as far down as you could, swallowing around him. 

He tried so hard to not buck into your mouth or grip at your head as the magic worked to keep his ravenous nature at bay, but…that’s just not who he was anymore. 

“C’mon, Beelie…want you to cum in my mouth, I wanna taste you..pretty please? Let me have it…” 

A low groan fell past his lips, hips finally jerking up and accidentally making you choke. A rushed apology was given as his fingers tangled in your hair and gently guided your head at a faster pace. 

The beating of his insectual wings was rapid as he got closer, magic completely dissipating when he let out a sound akin to a small roar, grabbing at his own horns when he came. 

Watching you pull away with visibly stuffed cheeks, slowly working on swallowing it all (though drops still ran down your chin) made a sharp pang shoot through him. 

“Thank you…you always make me feel so good, Mc…but..now ‘m hungry. Let me return the favor..wanna taste you too.” 

†

“A-are you sure…this is o-okay?” Belphie chokes out quietly, hands pressing down on your hips to keep you pinned to the bed with your knees bent to your sides. 

Your fingers curl in the sheets, body lurching forward at each thrust, “yeah, ‘s okay— feels good, doesn’t it? You’re doing so good, Bel…” 

The clipped whines and gasps that Belphie was making made his cheeks flair with an embarrassed flush; but you were right. It felt so. fucking. good. And he didn’t think he ever wanted to stop. 

Through the pleasure, it was easy to ignore the glowing bangle on his wrist and the voice in the back of his head telling him that he should have more reservations- that he shouldn’t be doing this— that voice wasn’t even his. Belphie wanted this, he did! 

As your hands stretched back to claw at his lower stomach, you moaned out his name and wiggled your hips, begging him to go faster. 

“Please, Bel…know you can go f-faster than this, want you to fuck me— please, please, please! Don’t wan’ you to be an angel, want you to be my demon again-!” 

Magic cracked in the air, sending the hair on the back of your neck rising before a familiar tail curled around your stomach and yanked your lower half higher up, forcing your chest further into the mattress. 

The attic bed creaked with the force he slammed into you at, whines mixing with growls now; his horns pressed against your skin as he rested his forehead against your back, making it arch even more. 

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you senseless again? Couldn’t even go a couple days without having me play with you, fuck, you’re such a slut for me.”

Needy Touches

You get affected by the gold hellfire newt syrup ((or,,, you get affected by an aphrodisiac kekeke)). 

Barbatos, Lucifer, Mammon x Reader

A/N: this came from a long line of word vomit -hence the double luci mention bc i could not figure out how i wanted to write this-…. i also tried writing a version where the reader eats enchanted pudding but i didnt finish it soooo perhaps ill post that later…. i just desperately needed barbatos smut

WC - 2.2kish

SMUT // NSFW ((reader w a pussy lol))

~~~

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