Solomon: Are You Okay?

TW: Choking, suffocation, hand job, brat tamer reader, teasing

𐚁₊⊹

Jeff is so comfortable with being overbearing all of the time.

It’s just his personality: yelling too loudly, hitting too hard, and especially pushing the boundaries of comfortability with others. Any chance he could get to provoke a fight he was going to take.

He’s a tease, a prick who likes to watch others cringe at the worst insult he can conjure up.

So, when he’s nudging your side and pestering you about how easy you are to make mad, it’s no surprise when you come back swinging.

Now, Jeff is flailing his legs, kicking his heels into the hardwood in an attempt to escape.

You’ve pinned him in a headlock, bicep and forearm locked tightly around his throat and squeezing hard enough to make him cough. His hands are clawing at your skin, a panicky attempt to get you off of him, but the lack of oxygen is proving difficult.

“Uhn- Fuc- Hnng-!”

He can’t even get words out, labored-cutoff breaths getting caught in his throat as you pull him back against your chest and restraining him further.

“Sorry? What was that? Gonna have to speak up, Jeffrey.”

You’re taunting him, sitting back on your knees as you hook your free hand behind his head and push, creating more pressure against his airway.

He lets out a rushed cough, a deep grunt as he’s trying to fight, kicking his legs like a kid.

You’re nearly satisfied, ready to let off and leave him embarrassed, but your eye catches something that makes you hesitate.

Jeff’s face is red, cheeks flushed deeper than you’ve ever really seen. But what really catches your attention is the way his eyes roll back.

His legs are shifting, pushing his back firmly against your chest as his jaw hangs slack. He’s gasping, eyes fluttering and rolling up into his skull with an almost pleasurable edge.

Your suspicion is confirmed with a tempted look towards his crotch, a noticeable bulge pressing firmly against the fabric of his jeans. You falter for a moment, the tense in your arm relaxing as you watch Jeff’s thighs press together.

You’re also surprised at the way the killer is pushing your forearm back against his neck, almost like he’s upset you’ve let go. An embarrassed string of noises floods from his lips when you retighten your arm back, the twinge of excitement in your chest making you brave.

“God, you’re a freak.”

Sliding your hand from the back of his head, you’re reaching to his open mouth, daring to run your fingertips against his lips. Jeff halts for a moment, rough breathing all you can hear before he’s opening his mouth further and taking your fingers inside.

He sucks in the digits, his jaw falling loose when it becomes too much and he’s dizzy for air again. Groans and huffs fill the room as you’re pushing your fingers deeper, sliding the pads of your fingertips against his tongue and reaching for more.

Jeff’s gagging when your knuckles meet his lips, fingers brushing against the tightness of his throat as you watch his eyes strain to shut. Even without being choked, gagging on your fingers is making the killer dizzy, his head nearly spinning before you’re dragging your hand from his lips.

“Hah- Fuck you… Huhn- Buh- Bitch-”

His voice is ragged, snapping his anger between heavy inhales. You don’t listen, readjusting your grip as Jeff’s placing his hands on your thighs, watching carefully as you’re running your spit-soaking fingers towards his jeans.

“Hold on-”

Jeff’s trying to sit up, your arm locking back around his neck and holding him firm into your chest. He’s forced to watch as you single-handedly undo his belt, tugging the zipper down and pushing your hand under the waistline of his boxers.

He’s gasping against your arm, his nails dug into your skin as he watches you push the fabric down, his cock slipping out and bobbing heavily against his abdomen.

You take the length in your saliva-soaked fingers, gripping tightly and smiling when Jeff’s whole body jerks with it.

He’s whining, a labored hiss below you when your forearm hooks tight around his throat and his eyes begin to roll back again.

You jerk your wrist, tugging the length roughly as Jeff’s hips jerk along with it, desperate noises pushing past his lips. His heels dig into the ground, spreading his legs as he becomes lost in the dizziness and adrenaline rush of it all.

You grip onto the head of his cock, running a thumb on the head and gliding against the slit. Jeff grits his teeth at that, a gutteral groan echoing as you smile, whispering against his flushed ear.

“For someone who talks so much shit, you sure do give in real easy. What? Can’t fight back when you’re being handled like a bitch?”

The attempted curse Jeff tries to spit gets cut off when your arm tightens against his neck, his heads reaching back up to grip against your skin as you continue to pump his wilting cock.

So much pre-cum is drooling from the tip, his lightheadedness forcing his body to compute with your every touch.

“Fuu- Hngh-”

He’s drooling now, tears pricking at the corner of his heavy eyes when you teasingly bite against his ear, nibbling against the shell of hot skin. He whines out of shame, squirming against the overwhelming sensations.

Every exasperated noise and jerk of his drowsy body is disheveled. He’s desperate now, chasing every twist of your fist on the head of his cock and every tense of your bicep against his airway.

Humiliation burns his cheeks when you whisper, “So you do get off on this…” He doesn’t know if it’s an insult or a tease, but he can’t help but gush at the feeling.

He can’t stand it any more, the corners of his vision slowly darkening when he feels his abdomen strain and knot, his dark cheeks soaked in tears when he finally cums.

Your hand tightens against the base of his cock, hot stripes of cum shooting onto his stomach and drooling from his tip. Jeff’s head is so light, temples pulsing when you finally release your grasp on him, panicked inhales and gasps following.

The killer leans back against your chest, your hand still firmly gripped onto the base of his cock when he finally recatches his breath.

“You’re so disgusting.”

You’re teasing, releasing your grip on him and reaching to grip his face, hand tightened onto his jaw. You force him to look up at you, heavy eyes and darkly flushed cheeks flushing you with pride.

“Fuck you.”

His voice is hoarse, throat raw and aching as he glares, your answering smile making him falter.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

He nearly moans, that overbearing intensive exterior faltering when he’s forced to stare into your excited eyes.

It seems he’s finally found his match, but Jeff always did like a fight.

I'm very much in an "MC is a morally grey badass" kind of mood.

Let's face it, this human's lived with demons for years, they've seen some shit and just...carried on with their day.

I wanna write some drabbles on this, anyone have any suggestions?

Falling asleep in one of the House of Lamentation's common rooms can be a gamble. At best, somebody kindly carries you back to your room and tucks you in. Or maybe they leave you where you were, but drape a jacket or blanket over you.

Sometimes they go overboard, and you wake up with too many blankets. It's sweltering hot and excessively heavy. You thought the brothers were just being supportive in a weird way until Mammon accidentally revealed everyone is trying to break the record of 23 blankets and three duvets.

Sometimes you wake up with a full manicure and facial in progress. Asmo likes the practice.

Sometimes you wake up wearing Lucifer's reading glasses or Mammon's sunglasses. The Anti-Lucifer League must have thought you make a good hiding spot.

Sometimes you wake up with fresh food next to you. Particularly if you fell asleep near mealtime. The strong smell of Devildom cuisine rouses you awake, and you catch Beel trying to tip-toe away.

Sometimes you find... offerings. Bottled tea, or sticker sheets, or a coin placed on your cheek. Levi started taking pictures and in thanks decided to make a shrine dedicated to his idol (you).

Sometimes they draw on your face. The first person to do so will leave a marker for anyone else who happens to feel creative. You've woken up with whiskers, a mustache, fake eyes drawn over your eyelids, money signs drawn on your eyelids, swirls and hearts, a goatee, a big unibrow, and you're pretty sure the twins are the culprits behind a game of tic-tac-toe.

Sometimes you get notes. Simple reminders, or a notice that Lucifer's left the house so please make sure to check that everyone's behaving when you wake up. Occasionally you wake up completely covered in post-its with silly messages.

Sometimes you get kisses. They leave no trace, unless their sender gets carried away and sticks around.

>:3

i never wrote on tumblr nor in english before! so pardon me if there's any mistake- lmao who is gonna read this anyway.

Leviathan HC! (ft. Collectionist!MC)

So picture this, Levi finds out MC is also a figure collectionist (at least in the human world) and he asks them how they cleans their figures (just to be sure MC knows how to do it the right way).

"I clean them with make up brushes..." That's the answer Levi wanted to hear! Now he is going to asks MC's help every time he wants to clean his figures (he cares about them a lot, so this happens pretty often).

Btw, this is Levi's love language, he doesn't allow ANYONE but you to touch his precious figures AND also he loves the time that you both spend together cleaning his figures!

levi sketches for all the love on the last post :D

references below!

⚠️❗️VERY IMPORTANT POST, PLEASE READ!❗️⚠️

everyone. on christmas day, december 25th, we all search up “halloween” to make it a trending search. it would be the FUNNIEST thing ever to see halloween be a trending search on christmas day. tell all your friends, repost this, do everything you can to make sure we can do this. REBLOG AS MUCH AS YOU CAN.

Sal Fisher headcanons (fluff/angst)

buckle up you guys, we are in for a wild ride with this one!

angst:

->Sal often struggles with insomnia, haunted by nightmares and intrusive thoughts. He sometimes stays up until dawn, staring at the ceiling or listening to music to drown out the silence.

On particularly bad nights, he’ll quietly play his guitar, the soft sound comforting him in an otherwise empty room.

->Even around his closest friends, Sal sometimes feels like he doesn’t fully belong. He struggles with the feeling that no one could truly understand the weight of what he’s seen and experienced.

He often forces a smile or a joke to keep others from worrying, hiding his sadness behind a mask both literal and emotional.

->Sal feels incredibly vulnerable without his prosthetic face, so much so that he avoids mirrors when it’s off. He fears being seen as a “monster,” even though he knows his friends accept him.

There are days when he feels disconnected from himself, like the mask is the only thing holding him together.

->Sal keeps small mementos of his mother and his happiest moments with his friends. He has a box hidden away filled with photos, drawings, and little trinkets that remind him of better times.

He’ll sometimes sit with the box and quietly relive those memories, trying to hold onto the good moments that feel so far away.

fluff:

->Sal has a soft spot for animals, especially cats. If he sees a stray, he’ll stop to pet it and might even sneak it some food. He once joked about starting a "stray cat rescue squad" with Larry.

->Sal loves oversized sweaters and hoodies, especially ones with fun patterns or that are extra soft. He has a favorite one that’s slightly worn out but feels like a warm hug.

He sometimes steals hoodies from Larry or Todd because they’re comfy and smell like his friends, which he finds reassuring.

->Sal isn’t the best cook, but he enjoys baking. It’s something his mom used to do with him, and he finds it calming. He makes cookies for his friends on special occasions, even if they come out a little lopsided.

He once tried to make a cake for Ash’s birthday and got icing everywhere, but the end result was so charmingly messy that she loved it even

thinking about strong, inexperienced subs - nsfw thirst, minors dni

🥀Character(s): Jason Todd (DC), Sevika (Arcane), Cassian (ACOTAR), Din Djarin ( The Mandalorian)

currently thinking about big, strong, inexperienced subs who are so, so nervous about their size and body. they feel too big, too strong.. what if they hurt you- or worse, what if once you remove all of the layers between you both, your disgusted with them?

they're apprehensive about sleeping with you at first, but soon, their own curiosity overcomes them and they let lust guide them to where they are now- sitting on your bed with you between their legs, arms wrapped around their neck and tongues interlocked.

with little experience to guide them, they're clumsy and clueless as you crawl into their lap, praising their every move as you slowly begin to give them the pleasure they so desperately need. they want to be good for you so badly, keeping their large hands on your waist and only touching you when instructed.

their eyes are glued to how much smaller you look compared to them- you weren't dainty by any means, but their large figure practically engulfs you as you remove their undergarments. they almost forget how to breathe when you begin to tease them, and soon all fears of hurting you are forgot to as they practically melt into your touch.

their heads are thrown back, eyes screwed shut as they whimper from each ministration. they knew it would feel good to finally have you touch them, but not this good. your hands are smaller and much more experienced, and the feeling of your nimble fingers over their aching sex has them trembling already.

"w-wait... s'too much-" they're babbling, already so close to the edge, and with a few reassuring words, they're cumming all over themselves with a soft, whiny groan.

"that wasn't so bad now, was it?"

sorry this is so mid i am fighting for my life :) tomorrow is my first day of school/classes i cannot do this 🙂🙂🙂 like i actually can't please please please i do not want to go back 🙏