Ghost Lilith

Thinking about

Competitive Kyle "Garrick" Gaz

Enlisting at the same time and becoming friends since day one. Always coming first on every classification, one week you're first, next week it's him.

People think you two are friends because you are always at the top, until they stop to look and realise is the other way around. The only reason you two are always at the top is because you are friends.

Best friends.

Always competing with each other.

There are like 30 other soldiers in the same training squad, still Kyle and you only have eyes for each other.

Running side by side, sparring is always a tie, beating each other records every single time. Every new challenge is just an opportunity to beat each other.

But Kyle is a mean winner, and whenever he starts to collect a couple of wins he grows cocky. Good thing you know perfectly fine how to humble him.

Late at night in your room, 69ing together, still competing to see who can get each other off first with you on top. And Kyle still tries to win, he truly does; until you pull back the skin of his twitching cock, curling your tongue around his bulbous tip and along his slit that has him curling his toes and moaning your name.

You are also mean about it, keeping your hips high enough so he can't reach, and sucking his balls into your mouth so he doesn't have the strength to pull you down. Taking your time to swallow his thick cock, sliding down your throat as you moan making the vibrations travel up from his dick to his ears.

He looks like he's strapped to the bed, unable to lift a finger as you hollow your check to suck him harder, your hand massaging his thick member and heavy balls.

The only time he stops moaning is right before painting your throat white with the thick spurs of his seed, erupting again in breathy whine and loud moans right as he does. You let go of his dick with a sonorous POP, turning to lay next to him, licking your lips clean as you look at his exhausted face.

"Who's the best, Garrick?"

"You are, ma'am."

"Good boy."

Little D’s fluff

What do you call a group of Little D’s? A pack? A flock? Maybe a herd? MC’s personal favourite was “the void” since when the creatures crowded in one spot their small black silhouettes would melt into a big shadow and form something akin to a moving black hole. At first, it made them kind of uneasy, since the smaller demons did come across as just as sinister as the strongest of their kind. From a further distance, they resembled a little puffball, upon closer inspection, everyone would notice that their needle-like teeth could easily pierce human skin and their claws and horns were always perfectly sharpened. The big eyes would make for a cute feature if it wasn’t for the animalistic glint in them. Some of them spoke human languages, some only knew the infernal language and some could, or chose to, only chirp twitter happily. It would seem so that they had some kind of pack instinct and would often crowd together, which would always form a cacophony of different sounds.

Keep reading

Eternity and counting

Pt 4

(Pt1, Pt2, Pt3)

(Ragggggh!! Actually remembered to post on a Tuesday this time lol.)

Obey me! X Angel!MC (They/Them Pronouns)

TW: Suicide, depression, self-deprecation, death, big feelings, lots of sad.

MC just can't handle anything anymore and takes their own life. Imagine their dismay to find even death isn't the end for them.

~/\~

I catch a whiff of fresh lilies as I continue to the castle. Curious. The castle has always smelled like roses. They were never Lord Diavolo's favorite, but they reminded him of his mother. But the closer I get, the stronger the smell, until it finally comes into view. Bushes and vines covered top to bottom in every species of lily I've ever seen in the human realm run elegantly up the walkway, over the entrance, and across the windowsills. I can't help staring in awe as I approach the front doors, I've never seen the entryway so decorated, even for Diavolo's parties or festivals. I wonder what the occasion is.

Within thirty seconds of my knuckles connecting with the door, it's opened with a flourish. Barbatos grins that trained grin I learned to detest in my time here. Nobody ever understood how I did it, but I could always tell when Barbatos was simply smiling for his Lord's image and when he was smiling for his own enjoyment. Part of me was always nervous he could see the same in me, but if he ever noticed, he never brought it up.

"Welcome to The Demon Lord's Castle. Please, Come in." He bows, sweeping his arm to welcome me.

"Thank you." I nod, stepping inside the frame and to the side of the door. Before he can even close the door behind me, I'm offering him the paperwork I was tasked with bringing.

"Ah, actually, if you don't mind following me. Lord Diavolo has requested to meet you. When he heard that Michael was sending a new angel, he insisted on meeting you. I'm sure you know the importance of those papers. It is quite unlike Michael to entrust a task of this magnitude to an angel we've never even met." He explains as he leads me down the hall.

I nod. "Of course."

I shouldn't have nodded. Why would I agree to this? It was instinct, I'm sure. Babatos could ask me to follow him straight into wild seas and I would, without a second thought. And now I've agreed to follow him to my own torment.

He moves silently as he leads me upstairs and out onto the balcony. My heart squeezes itself shut as I see Lord Diavolo, leaning over the balcony to admire the flowers below. He doesn't turn to greet us immediately, but something about the sag in his shoulders and the tension in his knees begs me to hold his hand. Soothe his worried thoughts until he has no choice but to sleep it off and start anew the next day. Something must be horribly, horribly wrong with me.

But the feeling is fleeting as he turns to us, standing tall as ever with that cover photo smile.

"Ah! You must be Michael's new angel! He seems quite fond of you." He strides towards us, clasping my hand firmly in his own. "Though, I admit he never gave me your name."

He poses the question so simply, and I have to fight the gut instinct to answer him honestly. But it burns, bitter and angry in my stomach as I summon the name Michael had given me for the sake of my privacy in the Celestial realm.

"Well it's a pleasure to finally meet you." He nods, but his wording gives me pause.

"Finally?"

"Of course! Michael has brought you up nearly every time we've spoken in the last several months." He laughs. God that laugh. I've dreamt of it. It makes me wonder for a brief moment if the cloaking spell expresses my growing blush.

But I disregard the consideration for the thought of Michael and the absolute hell I'd be giving him when I return. He's been plotting this for months, that bastard.

"Well, I'm glad to hear he speaks so highly of me." I bow lightly, presenting the paperwork to him. He takes it quickly, tossing it onto the table next to him.

As I stand back up, I wonder what to do with the sudden silence.

"Well, It's been a pleasure to meet you." I grin, wings flicking quickly. A nervous habit I've picked up since sprouting them.

"Right! I'm sure you have some important business to attend to." He claps his hands together. "Give Michael my best." He turns back to the railing and Barbatos moves to usher me out. But before I go, a question was lingering in my mind. "If I may, why lilies? Michael always tells stories of your grand rose gardens."

The balcony grows cold with the fall of Diavolo's gaze. Something unsettling burrows itself in my skin, burning like ice in my mouth.

"Lilies were MC's favorite." He mumbles. Practically whispers it into the wind.

But the sound reaches me anyway, and despite the gentle tone, it feels like being punched through the chest. "What?" I heard him, he knows I did. And he's right. Lilies are my favorite. Always have been. But I ask the question anyway. Because I simply can't comprehend why that would matter. It's been over a year now, they should have gotten over it. And yet, here he is. Mourning, right in front of me.

Barbatos places a tentative hand on my shoulder, whispering to me. "MC was a dear friend of ours. They... passed, some time ago." There's a pitch in his voice I don't recognize. Regret?

"And so, we maintain the garden, to show to them when they are reborn." Diavolo adds, smiling softly at me over his shoulder.

Something in the view of it all chokes me. Like swallowing a cotton ball.

They're still waiting for me.

Are they all still waiting? Lord Diavolo is one thing, but the brothers? Do they expect me to come home? Do they want me to? Why would they want that? After all I've done.

Before I can even consider it, I feel the familiar warm slip of tears down my cheek. Emotions I haven't grappled with in some time burn in my throat, clawing at my vocal cords and squeezing my airway shut. I hate this. I hate this feeling so much my hands shake with it. I never should have come here. It's selfish to say, but I could have gone on not knowing this. Had I stayed in the Celestial realm, I could have gone on for eternity, selfishly unaware that I was still wanted.

I swipe pathetically at my tears, wings flicking as I straighten my posture. "I'm, uh, terribly sorry for your loss." It's barely above a whisper but I know they can hear it. "But I... I should be getting back now."

They can tell something is wrong, of course they can. But rather than stick around for questions, I take off, sprinting through the halls of the castle and out through the front door.

I'm running on instinct as I navigate the streets of the city. I don't remember where I'm going, all I know is I need to get there fast. I should just return to the courtyard and wait for Michael to send the portal back to get me. But something in the idea of going back to the celestial realm brings bile to my throat.

So I follow my subconscious blindly, feet slamming against pavement and heart nearly shaking with the effort of it all until I come to an abrupt stop. My eyes, bleary as they are, recognize the sight before me like I had last seen it yesterday. The House of Lamentation looms over me, glass eyes challenging me from within the gate. The elegant iron rods of the gate twist around themselves and each other like a den of snakes. And I feel the same warm comfort from them as I always have. I pointed out the striking serpentine similarities between this gate and himself to Levi once. He was offended at first, but was quickly struck dumb when I pointed out how much I liked snakes.

The urge to press the gate open burns like fire in my hand, but I know that if I do, I won't be able to go back. There's no way I'd leave on my own once granting myself entry, and there's no explanation for my presence if I'm caught.

But if I turn around now, I will never come back. Damned if I do, damned if I don't.

(UGHHHH I hope y'all are still enjoying!! As always, comment if you'd like to be added to the taglist)

-Your friend, The Author <3

*tags*

@spffldlbrnf @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @seraphlies @averageradstudent @sasa-mya @ayshela @miracl3d

I'm sorry but schlatt literally scored a 71% exhibitionist and you think he *wouldn't* enjoy you sucking him off or giving him head in front of others????

Like walk in and start touching him during a chuckle sandwich recording and you'll have him whimpering and moaning in seconds, I don't make the rules.

We all know tucker and ted would enjoy the show too

God i need him

zlibrary gone... FUCK TIKTOK FUCK BOOKTOK I hope that app burns in hell

oh i KNOW schlatt

the most embarrassing part about being a virgin smut writer is that those tiktoks of pussy eating/cock sucking tips and tricks have me taking notes. not to use irl because HA nobody's touching me any time soon are you kidding. but to make sure sex havers think I know what I'm talking about when writing my fictional character porn

While standing in line trying to get some food in the southern Gaza Strip, he yelled at the journalist Fakri Ibrahim, saying: 'Send this picture to Israel and the world.'