Hello, Dear!

wait I kinda want him

hot take everybody, I want him so bad.

cant write, only college, no joy for bimbo

Hi, I have read so many of your ff and find your type of writing really intriguing and keep me excited. The Dom!Reader is a real passion!

I was thinking about a Smut with a very needy Lucifer and cockwarming, if it’s possibile 🗣️

Thank you so much and I will continue to follow your updates!

A/n — wow tysm that means a lot! unfortunately I don’t have a lot of time tonight so this might be a little short. However I am in desperate need of more sub!lucifer so here you go.

warnings — cockwarming, degrading, sub!lucifor, dom!reader

“Stop squirming,” you commanded, voice harsher than usual.

“‘m sorry, my dear,” Lucifer said weakly, attempting to stop himself for moving his hips. 

You sat on his cock while playing on your phone, both of you in his comfortable arm chair. Usually you would be nicer and give Lucifer what he wanted sooner, however he was being increasingly impatient.

You were mildly disappointed in him, he was normally so good for you. But you could feel him getting more desperate under you.

His thighs started to shake and he buried his face in your neck. Pathetic, really. You were barely moving and he was getting so worked up.

“Please,” he whimpered in your ear, “Oh, god please, anything.” 

You frowned at his begging, “Can’t you wait a little longer, Lucifer? Be a good boy.”

He whined and hid his face in your shoulder once more. He decided he was going to be good for you and wait. Despite the building pressure in his cock and the smell of your hair the sweat on his forehead and—

He couldn’t hold himself back, before he could even think about it, his hips bucked up into your cunt.

Outraged, you hissed and pulled him back by his hair.

“Who told you that you could do that? Did I give the okay?” you snapped at him.

“N-no, no ‘m sorry, I didn’t—“ He pleaded desperately, only to be cut off by you rolling your hips.

He whined loudly as you fell still on his dick once again, morning the loss of attention.

“That wasn’t even twenty minutes and you’re already whining like a bitch for me. What happened to being my good boy?” you inquired, yanking his blonde locks back ever so slightly.

“Nononono, please, I-I am, ‘m your good boy,” Lucifer’s legs started to shake beneath you.

“No, you’re not,” you began moving up and down on his cock, agonizingly slow. “You’re a pathetic whore.”

“Please— please, nngh,” his eyes filled with tears at your harsh words, and the way they clashed with your loving movements.

He hated being bad for you. All he wanted was to be good and make you proud of him, make you praise him.

“Tell me what to do, I’m sorry, ungh, please, I just wanna,” A tear rolled down his cheek as you continued humping his cock, “wanna be your good boy.”

You took pity on him in this state, he looked so needy, so ready to please. You leaned down and placed a kiss on his cheek and then his lips. 

He leaned into it, thinking he was forgiven and feeling relieved until he felt your hips stop moving. 

You laughed coldly, “then you’re gonna have to fuck me yourself baby, with no help.” 

He sobbed half heartedly and did what you asked, Pathetically rutting up into you all on his own. His hips got tired so fast.

He whined in frustration. But he would do anything to be your good boy again.

watched inside job, i want him SO BAD.

HATE SEX RIVAL LUTE idc dom reader dom lute my switch ass would be happy either way i just need need need this 🙏

Lie still, close your eyes girl, so lovely it feels so right —

Lute x reader,, 2.5 words

a/n — I literally did not mean to make this so long, I literally blacked out or something. Anyways, more Rival!Lute shit here, here, here and here. You don’t actually need to read any of those to understand what’s happening, though.

warning — heavy smut, afab but gn reader, VERY SWITCHY ROLES, dom reader but also dom Lute, scissoring, fingering, weird angsty sex, also it takes like 800 words for the sex to actually happen, honestly probably kinda cheesy

summary — After years of fighting with a sinner who’s well gifted in combat, Lute finally looses control and… well… they fuck.

The fight was close, just like always. Every move Lute made to strike was blocked gracefully by you.  Her swift moves were countered by your calculated blocks, followed by your precise jabs in her direction.

Each extermination day, the dance was set in stone. You, a fowl sinner from the trenches of this mortal plane, would be in the very same place each year. Always to fight Lute, a skilled angel soldier with immense training and knowledge on the battlefield. 

The odds should have been in Lutes favor, but just like last year and the year before that, they never were. It wasn’t that she lost the fights, because she would never let that happen. But it was the fact you kept up with her so well that infuriated her. 

Her strikes became tougher, the growl in her voice unmatched. 

“Someone’s angry this time, huh, Lute? You afraid of a good time?” You drew back with a smile, playfulness in your voice contrasted the blow you just laid to her stomach, “Or are you just tired of losing to a sinner?” 

Lute hisses in response, falling behind you and grabbing the back of your shirt, spinning you around to get a better angle, “Don’t kid yourself, I don’t lose. You know that, demon.”

There was not only a venom in her voice, but an anger that could only be explained by the emotion of mild exasperation. She wasn’t tired of fighting or ‘losing’, she was sick of not winning. Her grasp on your shirt loosened when you took a millisecond to examine her position, which conveniently left her stomach exposed, before kicking her hard right where she was open. 

Falling back, she yelped, not expecting the sudden pain. That was another thing that filled her with a bitter rage each year, angels shouldn’t be able to get hurt. And yet, you always managed to make her feel the slightest bit, if not a decent amount, of pain after a fight. 

What she would give to make you feel the same thing, what she would give to make you feel that pain. She wasn’t obsessed, however, no matter the countless nights she’s spent thinking about it. And disregarding what she did to cope on those nights. 

“Sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to kick you that hard,” You drew in closer with your weapon, bracing yourself to lay a blow in. This year, it wouldn’t be a draw. This year, in your eyes, would be the year you finally win.

Your hands rise above your head, ready to strike, when you falter. Lute was looking at you with her usual glare of hatred, clutching her stomach, and calculating her next move. But it was your weak moments that certain thoughts overtook you. How could it be helped? She looked so pretty. 

“Too slow, now you’re done for,” Lute sneered, smile growing as she lunged at you, spear clashing with yours as you barely block it. Your body’s were nearly pressed together, as she pushed the wood of her spear harder against yours, trying to break it.

Then her sneer flickers down, “What are you looking at?” She pants, catching her breath after the stimulating action. 

“Your have—“ you breath, “—very pretty eyes.” Your eyes don’t falter with contact, until she looks down. Your superficial attempt to distract her, unlike usual, failed to work.

As if snapping out of a trance, she finally analyses the situation. This is it. All it took was that one moment, and your fucking finished.

“Well i’m glad you think so,” she starts quietly, “Because they’re going to be the last thing you see before you fucking die.” 

She forcefully pushes back with the base of her spear, acting too quick for you to strike back, and swiping your feet. 

“Finally,” she almost laughs, “Finally, I win, you vile demon. I win—“

You slide your foot behind her calf and tug her forward, making her fall into the space next to you, leaving you time to roll on top of her. 

The wit in your voice was gone and replaced with bare survival instinct. Her hands go to grab her weapon but instinctively you pin them down. 

With nothing left to do, you simply stare at eachother, catching your breath and panting heavily.

Lute glared up at you with confusion, anger, and then something else. The light fell on the top of your head, illuminating a vague sketch of a halo around it. But you were no angel, Lute knew that. And yet something about the way you were looking her made Lute think, if you told her you were sent from heaven she would not only believe you, but curse god himself for not sending you sooner.

Angels don’t make mistakes, they’re perfectly sculpted to be flawless, and this is something Lute has always believed. Which is specifically why the following events confused her. Your grip on her wrists weakened, given her an opening to break free. And still, that’s not what she did with her new freedom. 

Strangely enough, when the constraints your hands acted as broke, she didn’t run away, or even fight back. Instead, she grabbed your collar, pulling you impossibly close, and doing something no one with the title ‘perfect’ would ever do.

You’ve always tested the limits of what she considered ‘possible’ as an angel. You condemned her with scars, when angels were incapable of getting hurt. You plagued her thoughts with lust, despite the ideas you filled her head with being overtly sinful for heavens standards. And now, you’ve provoked the, arguably, best exterminator soldier into making an irreversible mistake. 

But the extermination wasn’t on her mind as her lips slammed against yours, nor was heavens consequences. The only coherent thought in her head was a simple idea; despite your hatred for her, you kissed her back. Not just eagerly, but with twice as much force. 

And then, for whatever reason, reality came back to her. Brutal rage, no, violence filled her as she felt your lips on hers. To call it rage would be wrong. Yes, she did feel the necessity to cause harm to your well being, but something foreign dawned on Lute at that moment. An animalistic need for you, one that, despite being tainted by her hatred for you, was truly only fueled by it.

In one motion, she rolled you over, pining you to the ground by your shoulders and going back in for another kiss. Your lips were poison, that was undeniable, but the taste was sweet enough to distract from the deadly venom filling Lutes stomach. 

“Look what you’re doing, sinner,” She hissed into your mouth, “Your turning the blessed into the damned, you slut. Haven’t you been cruel enough?”

Her words were spoke with such a blaze of passionate disdain, you almost were at a loss for words. Almost. 

“Your seriously trying to blame this one me? I think it’s pretty obvious, Lute,” You speak inbetween mildly unpleasant, aggressive kisses, arms falling on either side of her hips as she pulls you into her by your shirt collar.

“You’re just dying to fuck me.” 

Your words made Lute temporarily stop, shoving you down and removing her hands from your shirt, and shifting away. 

You smirk at the annoyance on her face as she moves down your body, “Aw, sweetheart, don’t tell me I scared you away. I’d hate to loose the pleasure of your company—“

Her teeth launch into your neck as she struggles to pull your pants down, making you yelp in temporary pain. You feel her smile into the bite mark. 

Lute breathes in anticipation, savoring every moment of her fingers dancing down to your belt, and slipping into your bottoms. How many nights had she spent thinking of this moment in utter, crushing shame? And how many hours afterwards had she berated herself for thinking such vile things?

She didn’t have to think anymore, and soon, you wouldn’t be able to. She relishes in the gasp you let out when she teases her finger to the opening of your pussy.

“Fuck!” You hiss as she slips her finger into your already dripping cunt, “Eager there, are we, Lute?”

Your confidence had already begun to falter. In this fight, it was true, Lute was winning. God, did she devour every shaky breath you took as she began to move her finger inside of you.

“You know demon, I wouldn’t have thought you’d be so wet so soon,” Her other finger teased your entrance, as her first one worked itself more aggressively as the seconds passed, “I just thought you’d have more self control. I guess there are just some fights you can’t keep up with.”

You let out a hiss of disapproval, “Fuck— uh, consider it a compliment Lute. That’s just how much I wanted your crazy ass.”

Lute snickered, your comment lacked your usual wit. You were responding for the sake of responding, not because you had anything clever to say. Pathetic, just as she suspected. Just as she always fucking knew you would be. 

“And I doubt you’re doing much better over there, asshole,” You sneer, drabbling on for more than necessary, “Fuck, ah—”

During your fights, one of the things that infuriated Lute the most was your seemingly perfect composure, never once breaking your playful facade no matter how many blows you took. Now, your fragile character was finally breaking.

All the more reason, the next finger she added, she practically shoved inside you. “Aw, look at that. Prideful sinner,” She tutted smugly, “Looks like someone’s a sore loser.” 

Her fingers worked themselves inside you relentlessly. Every single move implied pure, unrequited hatred. It was a sick kind of attention, but you’d kill to have it more. Despite the flirtatious demeanor of yours finally being compromised, you wouldn’t say it was in vain.

No, certainly not when she was finger fucking you so good. The anger was present and unbreaking with every thrust inside of you, only fueling what was the long burning fire of arousal within you. She would ruin you, just as you would do to her, and god, it was welcomed.

Every motion inside your right cunt led to an embarrassingly priceless moan from you, just as your witty comments turned into mumbles of hatred and fowl wishes upon Lute and her kind. 

But just as your climax drew close, Lute pulled her fingers out. She glanced at them proudly, as if standing over a field of conquered enemies. She basked the moment in, before licking her fingers boastfully. 

“You know, I really thought you’d last longer, demon,” She grinned, “But you really are pathetic, you know that?”

However, by then the neediness in your empty cunt had been replaced by a dull irritation at Lutes demeanor. You were enemies for a reason, and it seemed she forgot how equal the two of you were. 

Too cocky, you think, and far too slow. In one swift movement, you flip her over, pining her to ground just as she had you just moments ago. 

“Is that so, Lute? That’s big talk for someone who lost to a demon for years and years.” Your hands go to stop her wrists from shooting up, “I’m really not the pathetic one here.” 

“I didn’t lose!” Lute struggled against your grip, but strength aside, your position prohibited her from shooting up to regain her control. 

“And what to you call this, then?” Your grin had formed again, but it didn’t distract from the aching from your pussy, “Typical angel fashion. You never leave yourself open like that, Lute. You should know that.”

You scorn her as you free a hand to trail under her skirt and tug her panties down. You’re lucky you get them half way off before she jumps up again. Your hands are quick to catch hers, however. 

“Hm, who’s the sore loser now?” You taunt, shifting the position drastically so that you have both wrists pinned down with one hand above her head.

While Lute struggles against your grip, you use your other arm to host her leg over yours, drawing both of your open cunts daringly close to each other.

“Don’t be stupid, Lute. Do you want me to deal with that mess or not?” The mess in question being her, as suspected before, soaking pussy. 

She grimaced up at you. Before she had the chance to bite you back with a useless reply, you started sloppily grinding your pussies together, earning a moan of pleasure from Lute, and a groan of relief from you.

“Oh fuck—“ She curses breathily, leaning her head back and pushing her legs further into yours, chancing the friction between the two of your aching cunts, “This doesn’t— this doesn’t mean I like you, demon.”

“You know Lute, you’ve made that abundantly clear over the past session,” You speak through gritted teeth and furrowed brows as you start to move faster. 

The slick, filthy, slapping noises that filled the area with around you, filled Lute with an all too familiar feeling of anger at her losing battle. 

“Your fucking perverted sinner filth,” Lute spat out, cutting her sentence off with a terrible hoarse moan, “You were the dirt of the earth when you were alive and now your— ah— even worse in hell.”

“Uh-huh,” you remark, focused on the grinding of your parts against hers, having to take a moment to gather a reply. “I get that you hate me, dumbass. You don’t have to waste your breath—“ you groan with pleasure, “—I’d like to not hear your terrible voice right now, thanks.”

“Fuck you,” she growls, but the threat of her bite is nearly completely gone when her sentence is punctuated with the arch of her back. 

Your speed only increased as you felt the building of your climax, and from the way Lute looked right now, you guessed hers followed soon. In all truth, you didn’t really hate the sound of her voice. In fact, the desperation in it  made you swell with incredible pride. But then again, you guessed she felt the same way about you right now. 

“Fuck, Lute, ‘m close,” You moan, mostly to yourself. You thought about throwing in an insult at the end, after all, it seemed like the only way you were able to hear each other, but you decided against it.

She didn’t need to hear you, but you did bask, like her in your desperation, in her cries below you. Despite the immense, and probably foreign pleasure she felt, the jeers never stopped. 

Even in an intamiate moment like this, she was still the “mediocre angel” and you were the “vile demon.” And even closest to both of your climaxes, you were sure to remind each other. 

But it was then that both of you realized, between the switching of positions and roles, the year long build-up to the final ‘winner’ was worthless. 

The fight, just as usual, was a draw.

a/n — THE SONG TITLE WAS ‘Tear You Apart’ BY SHE WANTS REVENGE BY THE WAY. Boy, this one’s been in drafts for a long time.

I forgot how much fun it was to ruthlessly project onto characters! I have no one to thank but my life for being so terrible and confusing and awful and terrible and

okay.. imagine- bill (bill cipher) obviously he's a dream demon, yknow.. can go into people's dreams, manipulate them, change how they act out and stuff, but imagine, he goes into your dreams one night (after finding you to be so much more fun to mess with of course, totally the only reason) and so he goes into your head and your dreams to see what's there to mess with, he talks to you and teases you, calling you all sorts of things and whatnot (but whilst doing so, he fails to notice your slightly higher pitched breaths and the way your thighs are squeezing tighter together), he continues with his remarks and how he treats your dream and so on and so forth- until he hears a moan slip from your lips. obviously, he's stunned for a moment and is unable to do anything but just watch you, staying silent. he watches as you whimper and quietly call out for the voice to keep talking (for him to keep talking), the way your chest heaves and newly formed sweat begins to dampen your supple skin and your loose sleepwear, the way how your hand is disappearing beneath the fabric just above your crotch- ...to say bill is surprised is an understatement is a bit low fetched, but what does surprise him is how fast he summons himself into your room and proceeds to make those noises from your lips erupt specifically for him when he's here, right now.

read the rules.

THIS IS SOOO SWEETTT 😭💕💕

i’ll be honest i still fan girl over my own mutuals

I love the idea of vox aftercare and all that fluff/fluffy stuff sm OMGG

a/n — yes omg i love fluff with vox because let’s be real i don’t think he has fluffy experiences often.

Vox fell back on to bed breathless and panting while you crawled next to him. 

“You did so good,” you said, planting a kiss on the area where his cheek would be. He whined softly, still coming down from his high.

It took a few more moments for him to come to his senses and notice the uncomfortable stickiness on and around him, along with the ache in certain areas of his neck and thighs that were littered in dozens of hickeys. 

He groaned as he went to get up, dreading the process of cleaning up and then leaving. That’s when you gently pushed his chest back onto the bed.

He looked up at you confused, before blinking,“Um— I’m a little checked out for the night.” He explained and he rolled his neck trying to distract from the hurt.

“What? Oh, oh no, Vox, that’s not—“ You try to explain before sitting up further on the bed. “Just let me clean up for you, baby. I think I went a little hard on you today,” you cross your arm around your other elbow to stretch, crack your knuckles and get off the bed.

“Oh,” Vox was slightly taken aback. Usually when he got laid it was never really about him. Valentino, for example, was more of a fuck and run situation.

There was never much aftercare. Never much he didn’t have to do himself, at least. He started to hoist himself off the bed, his body was sore though he had to stop himself from hissing in pain.

“Look it’s fine, I can just take my shit and—“

“Sit down, Vox.” You command from the other room, “You let yourself be taken care of in bed and you can do it now.” 

“That’s different,” he tried. Honestly, he really did see it that way.

“Mhm, and you’re being very brave about it,” you tease, coming back in the other room with all sorts of things; new sheets, an ice pack, and a warm, damp washcloth.

You sit next to him on the bed and begin to clean up.

“Does it hurt?” you inquire, pointing to the bruises on his neck.

“Well you did sink your teeth into the softest parts of my body so, you could imagine,” he felt bad for giving you so much attitude, so he finished the sentence with a teasing smile.

“Yeah, I bet,” You raise your head high as if to show how proud of yourself you are. 

Vox’s eye roll is cut off when you placed the ice pack to the back of his neck.

“Fuck,” he winced slightly. You placed your hand on his thigh and rubbed comfortingly, kissing him on the side of his screen.

“Sorry, baby. Here keep icing that,” you say before getting up.

“Where are you going?” Vox asked, slightly scared of your leaving, even though he couldn’t place why.

You left the door to the bedroom open and walked into your kitchen. “Nowhere,” you answer, retrieving two mugs from your cupboard, “How do you like your tea?”

“I don’t. I hate tea,” he called, getting comfortable on the bed as he moved the ice to his thighs. “I prefer coffee, black, if you can,” he paused, realizing his tone, “but you don’t have too.” 

For some reason he didn’t want to be difficult towards you after everything you’ve done for him tonight. You’ve exceeded in meeting his needs and now, even after sex, took care of him.

“I—“ you can’t help but laugh at his request. “Vox it’s the middle of the night. You want coffee?” You snickered.

“Well, I didn’t think you would judge me for it,” he picked up on your unserious tone and matched it to the best of his abillities.

“And black coffee at that,” you smiled, “that’s absolute insanity.”

“Yes, we’re literally in hell and that’s insanity,” Vox couldn’t hold back a smile when you came in the room.

His heart fluttered when he saw what is in your hands, one cup of green tea along with the black coffee he requested. You listened to him, actually listened to him. 

He didn’t really know why he felt a sudden rush of affection towards you. After all, it was just coffee. But you had heard him, after the joke was over, and you still catered to his needs. 

Something Valentino would never do.

“One cup of, far superior tea, and one cup of—“ you made a fake gagging noise as you sat down, “—far less superior, bitter black coffee.” 

As you put the mugs on the bed side table, you sat down next to Vox and spread your arms out, welcoming him in. 

For some reason, Vox found himself eager to be held by you, to be appreciated and loved more. He hesitated for a moment before gladly accepting the offer.

In a moment he buries himself deep in your chest, your arms wrap around him and rub his back. 

You lean down and kiss the top of his screen, “still sore, sweetie?” 

He felt his screen heat up at the pet name. “Yes,” he simply said, despite the strong coffee he grew drowsy in your arms.

Especially with you rubbing up and down his back with your nails in such a soft demeanor.

“I’m sorry if I went to hard on you, baby,” you spoke barley above a whisper, as if noticing the fact that exhaustion finally kicked in for Vox.

“mhm, ‘ts fine. It was good,” he mumbled, using his hands to pull you closer to him by your shirt.

“You did so well for me, by the way,” you cooed in his ear. “took everything so nice. I really do think you’re amazing.”

Vox hummed quietly, feeling his screen once again heat up from your nice words. He still clung to you, desperately. If he were less tired, the praise might even get him going again.

But it was the intimacy you were displaying now that was comforting him into a deep, deep sleep.

a/n — i really hope my vague guesses on vox and val’s relationship were right bc i haven’t see the new episodes so… fingers crossed?

also i feel like i paint val out to be the only toxic one in the relationship. No, vox definitely is a manipulative problem too but of course val has affected him just as much yknow?

just to clarify—

hope you enjoyed the fic <3

bro i hate living in ohio i thought a squirrel got trapped in my bathroom (again) but i opened the door to this absolute tomfoolery. do i need to involve cops or can i just call animal control?? idk how long it's been in there but if it fucked with my toothbrush ill be livid

(inspired by the lovely work of @squidflavoredsoup !!)