We’ve seen bully!eddie, but what about obsessed worshipper!eddie?
Like he sees the reader as this untouchable deity and he absolutely worships the ground she walks on, everything she does is perfect. He doesn’t feel worthy of her but he just has to have her, he just can’t let anyone else taint her
obsessed worshipper you say? ohoho.....
(cws: worshipper!eddie, f!angelface, self-esteem issues, stalking, delusions, masturbation, stick and pokes, punishment-centric self-harm, eddie literally licks your boots w/o you in them, mutual pining.)
he twists his rings whenever you walk by the table he sits at, a little squeak squeak squeak as he fidgets and fiddles until you're completely out of sight. he has to stare but he can't be idle, he's rarely ever idle, so he watches and ogles until it's a running joke at the Hellfire table that Eddie's whipped for the new girl.
maybe. no, not really--he's just in awe. probably. you're really pretty. and you don't seem at all like the fake people that far outnumber him and his comrades, he knows you're more genuine than they are because he's not scared of you, and you're not scared of him. you tell him good morning when you see him, your lockers separated only by a single one between them, and when he says it back you always smile and seem so happy. but it's not because people don't like you; you're so warm that everyone likes you. why wouldn't they? how could someone dislike you? it doesn't compute in his mind even somewhat.
it's always weird being around you, but good weird. like butterflies in his stomach that turn into hurricanes when you smile, or laugh, or when you get close to lend him a pencil and he smells your perfume. so pretty. he buys a bottle just to spray it in his room so it always feels like you're around, and that's a little creepy, but he's already a freak so it probably isn't any worse than what people think he gets up to. it's not any worse than when he's pricking his own arm with a homemade needle to tattoo your initials into his skin, or when he cuts a tiny lock of his hair off and sneaks it into the bottom of your backpack. you just need something of his, he needs people to notice that you shouldn't be messed with--he needs people to stay away from you because they don't deserve you. they don't deserve your kindness when they turn around and terrorize other people, and they shouldn't get to take away your smile when someone's rude to you and you flinch away. they're all beneath you.
when he starts following you home is when Eddie knows he has some kind of problem. at first he convinced himself it was just to make sure you got home unscathed, but soon he realizes that it's just because he needs more time with you. there aren't enough hours in the day for him to spend looking up at your godliness, and while he's gone from egregious truancy to a near perfect attendance, even worshipping you at home isn't enough after awhile. he can only practice so many love songs before his fingers bleed and his throat aches, and gripping his own cock as he drowns himself in fantasies of you can't satisfy him forever. he needs something of yours, but what he really wants is you. stealing one of your shoes is the next big infraction, although he reasons it out that because he brought it back it wasn't a big deal--even though he came all over the toe of your polished doll-like dress heel, just so he could lick it off and feel like he was polishing them for you. touching himself later that night was especially brutal, as he punished himself with as much pain as he could bear in some sort of confessional apology you don't even know about--mostly bruising pinches to his inner thighs just as he's about to finish, and a tight, dry grip that leaves him sore and shaking from his own abuse even though it felt so good.
after a while, he even worries over whether or not you're getting enough release yourself. you're so perfect, do you practice self-pleasure? how often? how do you do it? how long? what do you think about? do you use your hand, or....those questions and thousands more cycle through his head on a daily basis as he fixates on his new idea of you, but they don't stop and only get stronger the closer the two of you get. soon enough you're friends, he spends time in your room, you spend time at band practice and Hellfire. he loses his mind at the sight of the bed you sleep on and the furniture you touch every day, with the clothes that wrap around your body and the bits of makeup that cling to your perfect skin. he wishes he was all of that and more, he just wants to be around you, on you, 24/7. he has a moment of clarity one night, where he's so deliriously worried for you after a degrading comment was made earlier in the day by some jock, and he has to physically punch himself in his own stomach to stop himself from crawling through your window and cuddling up next to you as you sleep. after that he has to distance himself, worried he may encroach too far and scare you into fearing him.
but Eddie is beyond happy to find that's not the case when he finds whispers of his name in your diary entries. flipping through them becomes a passing hobby when you're not home, and once he's gotten through quite a bit to start reading more recent entries, his breath hitches as he discovers some passages from when you first moved to Hawkins.
"sometimes the only good thing about my day is seeing Eddie. I feel so worthless most of the time, but he makes me feel special."
"maybe he's lying when he says I'm pretty, but I don't care. I really like him. I feel like I've known him forever."
"this is so embarrassing, but I think I might have a crush on Eddie. I feel like he's with me all the time--I can't get him out of my head. but how could I tell him how I feel? how could he ever like someone like me?"
it's a dream come to life, but it's bittersweet all the same. among those glorious admissions of your feelings for him, someone so low and unworthy compared to you, there are so many sparks of doubt and self-hate that just kill Eddie inside. as your most loyal follower--your only follower--he can't allow that to stand.
so this time, he'll wait. and when you get home, oh, will he have so much to show you to prove that you're so much more divine than you seem to believe.
belphegor x f!reader
summary: you accidentally fall asleep in Belphegor’s bed, and when you wake up, innocent morning snuggling is clearly the last thing on either of your minds.
word count: 2.2k
content: 18+ ONLY, NSFW, smut, fingering, handjob, oral fixation, tail kink, biting kink, unprotected p in v, morning sex, creampie, cockwarming, referenced poly relationships, referenced consensual somnophilia
When you rouse from sleep, you’re momentarily disoriented as lazily you reach out to swipe your D.D.D. off of the end table beside your bed, only to find your hand limply swatting at empty air. Cracking open one bleary eye, you quickly realize you’re not in your room. As if in answer to the silent question ringing in your head, a warm huff of air curls against the back of your neck.
Belphie.
A jolt of panic floods your veins when you realize you must have fallen asleep while lying in his bed in the attic watching movies with him last night. Your face heats up with embarrassment, and you’re just about to attempt to slip out from under the covers when an arm snakes around your waist.
Belphegor’s tired, gravelly voice mumbles against your hair, “Where are you going?”
So much for avoiding an awkward moment.
Turning your head slightly to glance back at Belphie, you offer him a weak smile. “Sorry for the uh…impromptu sleepover.”
He frowns when you go to move again, pulling you flush against the heat of his body, and it’s a battle not to melt back into his touch. “You think I’m upset about that?”
“Well…” you trail off, and he lets out a contrary noise.
Belphie noses the back of your neck, sending a shiver of delight down your spine, and you can feel the smile on his face as his lips gently make contact with your skin. “Let’s stay in bed a little longer.”
Your heart flutters in your chest at his insistence, and you press your face into the pillow as you grin. But while it comes as no surprise that the Avatar of Sloth is in no rush to peel back the covers of his plush duvet, it’s only when you finally allow yourself to press back into his solid frame that you realize perhaps going back to sleep isn’t quite what he had in mind.
You’ve spent more nights than you’d care to admit sprawled naked across the lush sheets of your bed at the House of Lamentation, fingers desperately plunging into the heat between your thighs, Belphegor’s name a near-silent prayer on your lips. Because despite the way most of the demons and otherworldly beings at RAD have become more than a little bit enamored with you during your time in the Devildom, the one curled up in bed with you now has been the most aloof, leaving you to eagerly crave the rare moments where flirtatious comments fall from his lips, when you can spy a brief flicker of desire flare up in his violet eyes, when his fingers linger a moment longer than necessary against your own.
And now, you’re belatedly realizing that the fantasy of your fingers was a far cry from the large, firm shaft pressing heavily against your backside. The embers of desire that have long-since been burning for Belphie now flare red-hot in your gut, and you nearly whimper out loud as your pussy weakly clenches down on nothing in response.
If Belphie were one of the others, you might drag this out. You might roll over and lazily kiss him for a little while first, like you did with Beel. Or perhaps you’d tease him and make him work for it—which you’d shamelessly done with Solomon. While you hold the sound in, you nearly snort at the memory of Lucifer insisting on taking you out to dinner first before he ended up fucking you right there in the entryway of the House of Lamentation after you’d returned anyway—much to the dismay of Satan, who happened to be on his way upstairs with his nose buried in a book.
But Belphie.
Bephie.
Fuck, you’re so wet already.
Running late for your movie night, you’d hurried over to Belphie’s room fresh out of the shower, only realizing after you’d stepped inside that you’d forgotten to slip on a pair of underwear beneath the soft, cotton shorts hugging your hips. Now, unhindered by the extra material, you can feel a slick trail of arousal leaking from your cunt and sopping into your shorts.
You can lay in bed lazily kissing Belphie all that you want later, carding your fingers through his soft hair as a low grumble of contentment escapes his pouty lips. You’ll let him indulge in every inch of you with a type of greed that would make Mammon look generous.
But now?
Right now, while each and every one of your nerve endings is still pleasantly sensitive from the soft edges of sleep lingering in your system, you need to feel him inside of you. You can’t wait any longer.
And when you finally rock back into him, grinding your ass against his erection, Belphie gets the message loud and clear. He hums, pleased, and you can feel the vibration reverberate in his chest. Fingers beginning to roam across the expanse of skin beneath the t-shirt you’d fallen asleep in, Belphie makes a beeline for your breasts, eliciting a whine from you as he begins to massage them.
“You like it when I touch you here?” he asks, voice a quiet rasp.
He experimentally rolls your peaked nipples between his digits, and all you can do is nod in response.
“But what about here?”
His hand trails down your stomach, dipping just below the waistband of your shorts, and you can hear the audible hitch in his breath when he realizes you’ve forgone underwear entirely.
Chuckling, he slowly slides his fingers lower. “Did you forget something?”
One hooked digit reaches out, gently dragging against your swollen clit.
“It was an accident,” you breathe out, far too aroused to try to lace any faux innocence into your tone.
“Hmm,” Belphie muses, running his teeth along the nape of your neck. “Are you sure? Because I swear I’ve heard you whining my name in your room late at night.”
Fuck.
Before you can come up with a witty comeback, he adds, “Sometimes I can hardly make it back to my own room before I start touching myself thinking about those cute little sounds you make.”
Oh.
Rocking into his touch, you reply, “Why didn’t you ever just knock?”
You can almost hear the smirk on his face as he answers, “Because I wanted to wait until you’d had your fill of everyone else first to show you what you’ve really been missing.”
At that, you feel the tip of Belphie’s tail brush against your leg, and there’s something undeniably possessive about the way it wraps around your bare thigh, the normally prickly areas along it now flat and soft to the touch as it caresses you.
“So fucking wet for me,” he murmurs with a groan as he slides two fingers through your slick folds.
“Belphie, please,” you whine, pressing down against his digits.
“If I’d have known you were this impatient, I would have let you wake up with me inside you,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, and you know the words are more of a question than a statement.
“Next time,” you confirm, cunt already aching with anticipation at the thought of Belphie sliding his cock into your needy hole while you’re still asleep. And because you know what your words will do to him, you add, “You’re the only one that I’ll let do that.”
A small growl of pleasure crawls up his throat at the admission, and he heeds your desperation by plunging two fingers into your pussy.
“Belphie,” you moan, biting your bottom lip hard as his dexterous digits curl inside of you.
“I love it when you say my name,” he rasps, letting your arousal coat his palm as he fucks you with his fingers.
But even after he adds a third digit, it’s still not enough to quell the ravenous desire rapidly crawling up and down your spine. When you reach back to grasp his cock through his sleep pants, Belphie groans, rocking his hips into your touch. As you begin to push down both layers of fabric covering his shaft, he’s quick to shove them off, his length hot and heavy in your hands when you begin to pump it.
The lazy confidence in Belphie’s voice falters as you stroke his cock, and he gasps your name when you slide your thumb over the bead of precum leaking from the tip.
“Wanna fuck you,” he pants, jerking into your touch while he continues to stroke the wet walls of your cunt.
In response, you tug aside the loose hem of your shorts, not even bothering to shuck them off. You push yourself back into Belphie’s cock, keening at the feeling of the head bluntly pressing against your damp slit, and he pulls his sticky digits from your cunt to tightly grasp your hip.
The sound that leaves your mouth is somewhere between a gasp and a strangled moan when he begins to ease the gratuitous length of his cock into your wet hole, your cunt greedily clenching down on each and every inch as he stretches you open.
Morning sex, by default, is always a wonderful affair of tired, tender pleasure that never fails to leave your toes curling and your back arching as your heavy eyelids are nearly on the verge of fluttering shut once more.
But with Belphie?
With Belphie, it’s more than you could have ever imagined.
Once he stuffs his shaft in to the hilt, he begins to ease it back out again, soon falling into a steady rhythm pushing and pulling through your tight, clenching walls. And there’s just something about the way he holds you, the way his fingers flutter across your collarbone, lips pressing chaste kisses along the side of your neck, his hair tickling your cheek, the whispers of your name leaving his lips.
You’re still so tired and sensitive, and Belphie knows it.
He revels in it, your whimper as he presses a kiss to the sensitive patch of skin just below your ear before dragging his teeth along the hinge of your jaw. The breathy pant when he teasingly pulls his cock out and drags along your wet slit for but a moment (and the quiet, choked out moan that follows when he slides it back in).
“So fucking tight,” he groans at the slick sound of his length being swallowed into the warmth of your pussy again. “I’m not gonna last.”
Any stray, wandering thoughts you’ve had in the past about the dexterity of Belphie’s tail are obliterated at the feeling of it brushing over your sex. With the soft end resting against your stomach, he presses the solid part into your clit, moving it in a circular motion as he continues to fuck you.
“Holy shit,” you moan at the added stimulation, the pleasure slowly creeping through your abdomen now dripping through your limbs like molten lava. He increases the pressure, shifting the hand gently resting against the side of your neck to cup your jaw. At the feeling of his thumb sliding over your bottom lip, you can’t help but dart your tongue out, and you hear a pleased sound in your ear as Belphie experimentally prods with his pointer and middle fingers.
“Fuck,” he breathes out when you readily take his fingers into your mouth, sucking on them while your cunt squelches with each stroke of his cock as he massages your sensitive bundle of nerves with his tail. Drool begins to slide out of your mouth and onto the pillow beneath you as you slide your tongue along his digits, the taste of you still lingering on them.
And just when tears are on the verge of slipping down your cheeks from the overwhelming pleasure cresting within you, the thick coil of tension in your gut snaps loose, and you moan around Belphie’s fingers as you writhe with the force of your climax.
Belphie knows you want him to come inside of you, he’s smelled the lingering scent of the others’ leftover spend dripping down your thighs day in and day out. But he asks anyway, only for you to reach behind and tightly grab his hip, nearly impaling yourself on his cock as you force him to bottom out inside of you, silently begging for it.
And he’s nearly feral with it now—the thought of the two of you going down for breakfast, his cum still sloshing around in your pretty little pussy, eyes half-lidded in your sated state. The conspiratorial look you’ll give him from across the table as you feel his cum soaking into your uniform.
Maybe one of his brothers will try to fuck you afterward, only to find a load of his cum leaking out of you.
Or maybe he’ll have to take you back upstairs to fill you up one more time himself before class.
—because now that he’s had you. Belphie’s not sure he’s ever going to be able to get enough.
Belphie can’t help the way his teeth latch onto the soft skin at the junction between your shoulder and neck as his orgasm hits him, and you gasp out in pleasure as he bites down hard while he spills himself deep inside of you. And when he eventually stills, rather than moving away, Belphie just snuggles in closer and wraps his arms around you.
“It’s too early, let’s sleep a little longer,” he yawns, cock still buried inside of your cum-filled cunt as he curls against you and tangles his ankles with yours.
— likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated!
summary: prompt fill. Wally's been your best friend since the Grade 4 puppet show. a disaster that brought you together for life. only now, years later and months away from graduation, Wally needs to get something off his chest. he just...didn't exactly plan to do it this way... (request)
pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader
warnings: smut. friends to lovers. protective behavior. AU. silliness & fluff. Simon and Wally are bros (fight me).
bon reading, frens
___________________________☄️
Best Friends Club
Wally's chatting with Maddie and Charley before school, has his arm around your shoulders as you focus on your phone, laughing and joking and smiling wide until:
"Holy crap, Jake Tremblay just asked me to go out Friday," You announce, pretty eyes wide, blinking in shock at everyone.
Wally goes still, smile sliding off his face as his stomach drops and his heart ups and lodges itself in his throat. God, this hurts.
See, the thing is, you're Wally's best friend. And while he has his arm around you—is always reaching for you, hand on your back, arm, shoulder, whatever—it's never been anything but friendly. Best friendly. Because you and he are f r i e n d s. And it sucks. Royally.
Why? Yeah, no one needs three guesses to figure out that Wally's been in love with you since Grade 4. That massacre of a puppet show the kids put on for their parents during Spirit Week. You and Wally spent the entire performance using sock puppets to have a dialogue about who'd win in a fight: Goku or Sailor Moon. Didn't even notice the blood vessel about to pop in Mr. Toast's temple when things really started to spiral.
Wally only comes down to earth when you say his name for what must not be the first time, everyone's eyes on him. Yours, especially, beautiful and concerned as you stare at him expectantly.
"What was that?" He asks, feeling simultaneously dumb and unable to function.
You repeat, "I asked you what I should say..." and turn to face him fully. Still close enough that your body heat soaks through his hoodie. Fuck, how can he say anything negative when you're giving him that sweet, earnest expression? Seeking advice from someone you trust implicitly.
Against his better judgment—or maybe for it—Wally slaps on a smile and says, "Yeah. You should go for it."
This isn't the first time you've been asked out. Of course, those last few times you didn't look so keen on accepting the offer. When you turn back to your phone, Wally's face immediately falls. He doesn't look at Maddie or Charley, can't handle the pity he knows he'll see in their eyes.
Everyone in the circle knows about Wally's crush on you (fuck, it's so much more than that), but apart from insisting he talk to you, no one points it out. You're the only one who hasn't caught on, Nicole having informed Wally that you giggled over popcorn, what are you talking about? Wally's always like that, when everyone was at the APEX for a midnight screening of some scary movie Wally couldn't have cared less about.
And, sure, Wally is 'always like that': Goofy, charming, flirtatious; standing in line at concessions for you and holding your bag when you go to the bathroom... What you don't seem to grasp is that Wally isn't like that with anyone else. And now you're saying 'yes' to Jake Tremblay and Wally has to muster the strength not to punch a wall.
‗•‗
Simon closes his locker only to jolt backwards. Wally appeared out of the fucking ether, what the hell? He has his forehead pressed against the locker beside Simon's, shoulders slumped, looking all-in-all miserable to exist.
"Yoouu okay?" Simon ventures, raising a brow.
Slowly, Wally turns his head and nothing else, eyes puppy-dog sad and lower lip pursed in a pout, "No." And then, after turning to face the locker again, "She said yes to Jake Tremblay."
"Dude, I've told you a thousand times, talk. to. her." Simon says like a mother insisting Wally clean his room.
Pointed, "Oh, you mean like you talked to Maddie?"
Simon takes a moment to reevaluate his life before, in a placid, neutral tone, declares, "I regret this friendship."
"No you don't." Wally says, but he's still glooming into the locker. "What do I do?"
"Aside from talk to her?" Simon shrugs helplessly. How's he supposed to know? He and Wally have been paddling the same sinking boat for approximately the same number of years. "Do you...wanna threaten Jake?" Simon asks in a pitch similar to that used when asking children if they want to go for ice cream after a tantrum.
Wally seems to seriously consider it but glumly decides, "No. I want her to be happy." A heavy sigh. "Even if it's not with me."
"This isn't going to make you some kind of martyr, you know."
"I know."
Simon doesn't think Wally does know, but fine, he'll play along. "Maybe it'll go so bad that she swears off dating forever."
"A guy can dream," Wally mumbles as he straightens, and, Jesus, he looks like every kitten in the world just got launched at the sun and he was forced to watch.
Simon can see beneath Wally's utter despair to the gears turning in his brain. Can sense what ill-advised plan Wally is cooking up (because this isn't the first time he's done something stupid to ensure you're safe). In an effort to, a) avoid criminal charges and, b) make Wally feel better:
"What if I happen to be in the same place at the same time? I could keep an eye on things for you." Simon suggests and he already wishes he didn't say anything.
Wally brightens, "You'd do that for me?"
"Apparently..." Simon says, questioning himself. "Look, better me than you, right? Otherwise, it'll be exactly what it is and she'll never talk to you again."
"Why? What would it be if I do it?"
"Stalking, Wally," Simon states as he heads into History, Wally at his heels.
"Hey!" Wally protests, "It's not like that!"
Taking his seat, Simon just gives Wally a pointed stare, "Buddy, I know you read those BookTok romances, but following your BFF on her date with another dude isn't a romantic gesture. It's creepy a-f."
"But...you'll do it for me?" Wally wants to confirm, his eyes all wide and pleading.
Simon sighs, thinking this is a terrible idea, but seeing Wally so sad breaks Simon's heart and he can't bring himself to take back the offer. "...Apparently."
‗•‗
Friday comes. It's all you've been talking about since Monday and Wally has had it up to here with Jake This and Jake That, and if he hears one. more. thing. about Jake, Wally's going to burst into a million pieces of ragehate and take the whole school with him.
But he smiles and nods and teases you like he would in any other situation, bumping your ass with his hip when he finds you bent over at your locker at lunch. You don't even need to look to know it's him, simply continue to shove your backpack in your locker and grab your jean jacket.
"Diner?" You give him a sunshine smile that Wally returns, almost forgetting about your date and Jake and how you're not actually Wally's girlfriend.
Not in this lifetime, his brain reminds him bluntly.
His blood stings.
Over lunch at the diner down the street, you outline exactly what Jake has planned. Dinner at the Italian place beside the Arcade (it's fucking Olive Garden, Jake, do better) and then—Jesus, really?!—stargazing on the roof of the old cigarette factory. An organized thing. The planets will be in some kind of super rare alignment or something, and local enthusiasts have banded together to share their telescopes.
"No offense, but since when do you care about the planets?" Wally wonders as he dips his fries into your ketchup.
You shrug, "I mean, it's something to do, right? And you're always telling me to 'branch out and try new things, dorkface'," You exaggerate the last part in a parody of Wally's voice before continuing as yourself, "so, why not astronomy?"
"Because it's outside and you hate outside things before May." Wally chuckles and shakes his head, "You're gonna get cold and complain and steal Jake's hoodie like you've stolen five of mine."
Wally loathed the idea of you stealing another guy's anything, but he smiles through the jealousy. Perhaps a little too intent on smearing more fries through your ketchup as his knee bumps the underside of the table in quick, nervous intervals.
Oh, he is not doing well.
He instantly notices how you've gone still, how you're studying his expression, words, behavior like a zoologist at the gorilla enclosure because Wally can't fucking keep his cool when he's forced to think about you being cozy and cute for someone who isn't him-shaped.
Wally keeps his eyes on his plate for a few moments; long enough that you gracefully change the subject and ask Wally what his plans are for tonight. As if they don't involve hanging out with his phone while he obsessively waits for Simon's updates throughout the course of your date.
"Nothing special," He says, patting himself on the back for keeping his voice even, "just hanging out at home."
‗•‗
It's 8:43PM when Wally's phone lights up with a call. As promised, Simon kept Wally abreast of every. single. thing. you and Jake did on your date. From flirty conversation over unlimited breadsticks to shifting to one side of the booth to split dessert.
It's only been an hour and a half since you and Jake were seated. What on earth could Simon have to tell him that couldn't be texted?
"Don't freak out—" Wally promptly freaks out "—but something happened."
Wally shoots up in bed, where he's been whiling away since he got home from school, and is immediately on alert. Heart pounding, blood pumping, ready for war.
"What's going on? Is she okay?"
"Oh. She's fine." Simon reports. He sounds like he's hiding, voice a harsh whisper just loud enough for Wally to hear. "Jake might be in a permanent body cast for the rest of his life, but she's totally fine."
Wally breathes a sigh of relief, although he's still confused, "What happened?"
Simon clears his throat, "She's probably going to call you in, like, a minute, so you have to act...just...be cool, okay?" And then, finally, he reveals, "Jake tried to stick his hand under her skirt. And I mean, he went for it. Full grope from behind."
At that moment, Wally sees fucking r e d. He's off the phone and in his car faster than a bullet, tearing out of his parents' driveway with a screech. Burns rubber around every corner; breaks several traffic laws; and pulls up just as you're about to get into an Uber. There's no sign of Jake. Unfortunate, since Wally has a surplus of adrenaline thrumming through his veins, and the only cure is beating the guy's face to a fucking pulp.
You look confused for all of a second before your face crumples. Wally gets out of the driver's seat and hurries toward you. Gathers you in his arms as soon as you're within reach, and holds you as you shake. He rubs your back, soothes you with soft words; managing to simultaneously shoo the Uber driver away with a polite nod and a gesture.
"Are you okay?" He asks after a minute. "Do I need to kill him?"
"...No," You mumble into Wally's chest. "I already did that."
Wally grins, though it's sad at its edges. You shouldn't have had to.
"That's my girl," He murmurs into your hair after he places a comforting kiss on your head. "Come on. I'll drive you home."
You go without resistance, even allowing Wally to fuss over you and buckle you in. As he settles behind the wheel, he glances at you again and realizes, "Whose jacket is that?"
You press your lips together and stare at your lap, "I got cold... Besides, after what he did, I think I earned it." You end firmly, crossing your arms.
"Did you take it before or after you kicked his ass?"
"After, duh." You say like it's so obvious, "We were inside before. But I didn't want to wait for my Uber in front of everyone who saw what happened. So...I made him give it to me."
Wally barks a laugh as he takes your hand, holding it in that platonic way, fingers not laced how he wants them to be, but he'll take what he can get. Your knuckles are raw where they made impact with whatever part of Jake you punched. Wally smooths the pad of his thumb over them. Gentle. Loving.
"Where to, sweetcheeks?" He asks, "Home or ice cream?"
"Home." You decide with finality which makes it hard to swallow around the lump of disappointment in Wally's throat.
Call him selfish, but he hoped you'd want to let him comfort you. Regardless, he does as he's told and pulls away from the curb, pulling a uey to head toward your house.
‗•‗
On Monday, Wally finds Jake in the boys' locker room after swim practice, his black eye looking like it needs a twin. Wally punches Jake hard enough that even he sees circling birdies.
He shakes out his hand as he leaves without a word, hardly feeling the pain through the smug satisfaction warming his belly.
‗•‗
It's the next weekend when you invite Wally over for a casual afternoon kick back. I need Best Friend Time, you said, all adorable and gloomy, wanting to put all thoughts of ever dating again behind you (thanks for putting that out there, Simon, you da man!). Wally's in, of course he is, on the road as soon as you hang up.
Your parents are having a late lunch with friends a town over, so it'll be just you and him for a while. Games and snacks and Domino's on the menu for dinner. When you answer the door for him, you've got some of that sunshine glow back in your eyes, your smile making Wally's heart flutter.
You lead him to the basement, everything already set up: coffee table pushed aside for the nest of blankets and pillows on the floor, bags of gummy worms and twizzlers (Wally's favorite) and those Canadian chips you like in a pile beside cans of Dr. Pepper and Coke Zero.
Wally wore his cleanest sweatpants for the occasion, matching your chill vibe. And damn those low-slung yoga pants and that fucking tight-as-sin tank top, no bra because you love to drive Wally crazy.
"Ready to have your ass handed to you again?" You joke as you get comfortable on your side of the nest.
Wally claps back, "Hah! You haven't won in three months, sugarlips, what makes you think today's the day?"
You just smirk and hand Wally a controller, "I have a plan." And that's all there is to it. You don't elaborate, don't hint, don't give Wally any indication whatsoever what this plan might be.
Fishy...but effective. You're already in Wally's head. Hmm, maybe that's the plan? Wally shakes himself to attention and starts the game, grinning like a shark as he gets the lead right off the bat.
Just as he's about to cross the finish line, "So much for your pla—" the world suddenly tilts sideways. He can't finish his thought, barreled over by your weight crashing into him as you grab the controller right out of his hand.
You squeal victoriously, the sound rebooting his brain, and he realizes what just happened.
"Hey!" He tries to grab the controller, but you hold it up and away from him, big smile on your face as the screen announces Wally's demise. "Not fair!" He wraps his arms around you and flips you onto your back; presses his weight into you as he uses the advantage of his longer limbs to snatch the controller back.
Apparently not taking this lying down, you band your legs around his waist then surge up, somehow summoning the strength of five Wallys to roll him onto his back again. Stunned, he stares up at you as you wave the controller victoriously.
"You were saying?" You chuckle, smug as ever, slightly out of breath.
Oh, but Wally isn't done yet, miss ma'am. He snaps his hands up, clamping his fingers for the controller which you arch your back to hold away from him, crying out when he takes advantage of your off-balance position to knock you backward. Once more, he has you squirming beneath him.
He grabs one wrist and then the other, transferring both into the grip of one of his large hands while he plucks the controller from you with the other. That's about the moment he realizes, uh-oh, he can feel your breath on his lips. Your face is such a beautiful shade of pink, and your thighs are on either side of his hips. Wally's body is completely flush against yours. All of him. Every. Last little bit. of him.
Wally should move. Definitely. He should move right now; just get off you and pretend everything's normal and you're not gazing up at him like that and his lips aren't so fucking close to yours, and the air hasn't been sucked out of the room that no longer exists around you and him because there's only you and only him and fuck. Shit.
"Wally~?" You say, voice a whisper tinged with something that makes Wally's cock twitch. Heat, maybe. Or need. You swallow, the sound audible, and, oh fuck, Wally watches your eyes flicker to his mouth then back, like you're finally on the same page, like you want it, too.
His hand flexes around your wrists, body settling more firmly on yours, and he stares at your face as he rocks his hips, just once, experimental, just to see what you'll do. He knows you can feel him, stiff and hardening further, all his inches against the heat of your pussy through your thin as fuck yoga pants.
Your reaction almost explodes Wally's brain. That sweet little whimper, how your eyes glaze over and your lips part; how you mimic the action with one of your own, sending sparks of electricity through Wally's nervous system.
"Fuck," He chokes out, grip loosening around your wrists, but not letting go. He drops the controller. Instead uses that hand to brush his fingers across your cheek and down the slope of your jaw. His breath mingles with yours, the heat in him rises, his heart beating a frenzied tattoo in his chest. Is he really going to do this?
"Please," You say, so soft, so perfect, that, yes, Wally is absolutely going to do this.
He gently bumps the tip of his nose against yours, smiles in wonder that this is really about to happen, and then slowly, to give you a chance to turn away if you don't want this, he leans in, stopping only to tease, "One more time, princess." His voice low and husky.
He feels you tense and then release before whispering, "Please, Wally..."
That's all he needs to lean in and kiss you for the first time, his lips capturing yours with years of hunger and desire and fucking love. So much love it threatens to go nuclear if Wally doesn't share the burden right this minute.
He moans, grinds his hips against yours, his cock throbbing against you, God, he needs you so badly. Has needed you so badly since he first discovered how his dick works and probably even before then. He lets his hand roam down down down, then up under your tank top, fingers caressing the soft shape of your breast.
You keen and arch into the touch, and, holy shit, he can't do this slow. Next time—please Jesus, let there be a next time—he'll do this right. He'll do candles and rose petals and Barry Manilow, but right now, he has to know what it feels like when you come around his cock.
His kisses turn urgent, his movements more hungry, and you match his crazy like a mirror. His shirt first, thrown behind the TV, then yours, tossed somewhere near the coffee table. Wally takes a second to admire your bare chest, licks his lips, and then descends, starving for a taste. He sucks your nipple, twirls his tongue around it, moaning as if it's the best thing he's ever had in his mouth.
Which, as soon as he peels your yoga pants off and resituates himself between your spread-wide thighs, he knows isn't true. This is the best thing he's ever had on his tongue. He spears it in and out of you, moaning and panting as he kisses your pussy deeply, brings one, two fingers into the mix; pumping into you over and over until you shake and beg and arch so fucking pretty for him.
"Fuck, baby, I need to feel you come," He groans, shoving his sweatpants and boxers off and throwing them somewhere to find later.
You agree enthusiastically, reaching for him as you hook one leg over his hip, the other over his shoulder—Goddamn, were you always this bendy!?—and cry out like a heavenly chorus when he drives his cock into you. Fuck, God, his eyes roll back in his skull, it's the most incredible feeling, an indescribable euphoria flushing through him from scalp to soles.
"You feel so...big, Wally, oh my god," You gasp when he begins to move, and doesn't that just rub his ego the right way?
He genuinely can't even find the brain cells to reply, too busy losing himself to the sensation of being inside you, finally, so much more intense than any and every fantasy he's had of you and him entwined like this.
"Baby," He moans, hips pumping faster, fat tip hitting your sweet spot over and over and over until he feels you tighten around him, hears you gasp, and then moan in ecstasy.
He wishes he could last, that he could keep going until you come again, again, again, but he's waited so long for this and it's overwhelming, he can't do it. With one, two, three more quick thrusts, Wally tenses and then groans, grinding his release into you; leaning down to take your lips in a feverish kiss.
As you and he recover, he rests his forehead against yours, releases your wrists—oops—and cradles your face in one hand, his most precious girl a vision in the afterglow. You shift, your hands on his jaw, and you're looking at him like the sun, moon, and stars.
"How long?" You eventually ask.
Wally doesn't need you to clarify. He knows exactly what you mean.
"Grade 4."
He watches you absorb the information, nod, and then your eyes meet his when you make your own confession, "Grade 3. Ms. Houette's class. You made a joke about seagulls that was so lame it was funny."
Wally about short-circuits. He begs your finest pardon, but what was that? "Grade...3?"
"Grade 3."
"...are you saying that I could've been loving on you—" He emphasizes with a roll of his hips, winces from oversensitivity, "—since before I even understood what that meant?"
"I'm saying I've had a big, stupid crush on you since Grade 3." You say, innocent and solemn, "You take that however you want."
Wally chooses to forego the existential crisis and simply enjoy that he has you under him. There's a lot of time to make up for and a lot of fantasies Wally wants to bring to life, which you and he do with gusto until your parents get home and call down a hello.
Later, after redressing in a tornado and greeting your parents face-to-face; after stammered updates and weak conversation; after retreating to the basement to watch a movie and cuddle—Lord, you feel so good in Wally's arms, he never wants to let you go.
After all that, during a lull in the movie, you finally ask, "So, are you going to tell me how you knew what happened with Jake before I told you?" And you prop your chin on his chest, looking up at him with amusement.
Wally gulps, facing the screen as he desperately tries to come up with a feasible answer. Nothing comes to mind, though, so he's stuck offering:
"Uuuh...?"
You sit back, on your knees between his legs, and raise a brow, "I know Simon was there. You can tell him that Groucho glasses do not a disguise make."
Sheepish, "He's a good bro...?"
"A very good bro," You agree primly, "A bro who stalks one of his best friend's other best friend because...?"
Now Wally knows he has to tell you. He sits up himself, hands finding your waist, eyes earnest and sweet as he admits, "I wanted to make sure you were okay. I didn't know anything about Jake and you never let me vet any of the guys you go out with—"
"Yes. All three of them." You say flatly, rolling your eyes.
"One, three, five, doesn't matter, baby, I always wanted to make sure they were good enough for you..."
"So, did you make Simon follow me and Dan to the movie last year?" You wonder.
Wally glances away, guilt muddling his expression.
"...Did you follow me and Dan to the movie last year?"
"If I say no, will you believe me and let me cuddle you some more?"
Your jaw drops, eyes round, and for a second, Wally's sure he's about to get the boot. Not just from your house, but from the Best Friends Club altogether. He's already mourning the loss of your touch when you abruptly burst into laughter, crashing into him like you did before, only this time a lot gentler.
You nuzzle your face into his neck and then kiss his face all over, grinning down at him with the same beautiful smile you always give him.
"You're not mad?"
You shake your head, "I made Xavier come with me to that football game you took Melissa to last fall..."
Gobsmacked, Wally blurts, "You hate sports," since it's entirely relevant to how you stalked him as much as he stalked you on dates neither of you wanted the other to be on.
"I don't hate sports. I like sports. I hate all the pauses and the time outs and the—"
Wally cuts you off with a kiss, at first just a stamp of lips to lips but slowly melting into something softer, deeper, more heated.
Wally pulls back a fraction to say, "I love you, babygirl," looking deep into your eyes. One hand on your hip, the other in your hair, releasing a long, shaky breath as he waits for you to say something.
Finally, a smile spreads across your face and you kiss him again, short and sweet and meaningful.
"I love you, too, Wally Clark." Then, completely off-topic and far less romantic: "Do you wanna come with me when I stalk Simon's date for Maddie?"
Tires screech as Wally's brain comes to a full stop. Sorry, what was that? "Wait, Mads wants you to follow Simon?"
"Oh yeah, she's liked him for ages, but he never seems interested so...you know...she doesn't wanna risk the friendship."
"Jesus Christ." Wally looks at you, totally serious when he sighs with the exasperation of an ignored parent, "You know, I've told him, like, a thousand times to just talk to her." A helpless shrug, "He never listens."
‗•‗
Several days later, when you aren't looking, Wally steals the jacket you stole from Jake. Does terrible things to it before throwing it in Jake's face the following day.
Wally replaces the jacket with his letterman and has never been prouder of himself when he sees you slip it on without question.
☄️___________fin.____________
also on AO3!
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if you enjoyed this, you may also enjoy Marshmallow Miles.
a cutie-smut-lite oneshot wherein Wally wants to celebrate your birthday away from Split River. Because he can.
i feel so bad because i love this place and i love the people that have stayed with me on here but like hm
I know we could not be any more different, but there is one thing we do share, the certainty that you will make your own way in this world. I am sure of it, Eloise.
ELOISE AND DAPHNE BRIDGERTON IN BRIDGERTON
Dom Donnie. NSFW💜
18+, blowjob, afab, she/her pronouns, subby!y/n, dom!donatello, OOC(?)Donatello.
inexperienced nerds who are whiny and subby at first..
the ones who paw at your tits and clumsily make-out with you because they can’t focus with what feels like everything happening all at once.
But once you get on your knees.. and look up at him with those big fluttering eyelashes, kissing the tip of his dick. This man gets the biggest ego boost of his *life*
And he saved the fucking planet?? But seeing you on your knees naked beside your thin panties, worshipping his cock, lathering it in your spit- for fucks sake he feels like he’s on top of the world. You’re rubbing your thighs together, your eyes full of lust. Using both hands to stroke the rest of his shaft, your finger tips barely touching from how thick he is.
He’s soaking this in, burning the image in his mind forever.
You try to deep throat as much as you can, pulling away when you start to gag. Whispering more or so to yourself, “s’ too big”
He just wants to blow his fucking fat load all over you at this point, his balls feel so heavy. He puts a hand behind your head. He starts by rubbing your head and then proceeds to grip your hair and push you down a little, back on his cock.
Yeah, Donnie is a head pusher. Who could have seen this coming? He’s not thinking straight, his head is so foggy. He feels drunk. Nobody has ever touched his dick before, so you, this way-out-of-his-league hot woman is trying to suck his cock? And you like it?
The power trip he feels is unbelievable. His eyes are lidded, and clouded with pure sex. He takes your hands off of him and grips his cock with his other hand. Slapping the head of it on your swollen lips.
“Be a good girl and suck my cock, yeah?” He says this so ever gently, almost a whisper. But the tone he uses.. you’ve never heard this from him. It’s deep, guttural, primal. Straight from his chest, and it sends tingles to your core.
You whimper at this, the show of dominance is so hot and unexpected. You open your mouth and let your tongue fall out, looking up at him.
He can’t help but groan when you listen so good for him. Pre starts to bead on the tip, he uses it to smear his sensitive cock head on your warm wet tongue, painting it white with his spunk.
Eyes closing at the feeling and taste. You whine when he just keeps rubbing and slapping it on your pretty pink tongue. With your hands no longer occupied, you reach down between your thighs to give yourself some relief.
Donnie notices this right away. He yanks back your head and forces you to look him in the eyes. “Put your hands behind your back. And keep them there.”
You whine in disappointment, but obey anyway. You swallow whatever cum he gave you earlier, rubbing your thighs together roughly at the taste. Looking up at him the whole time. You look so fucked out, he could swear that you have anime hearts in your eyes right now.
His cock jumping at the scene in front of him. He puts his foot on your crotch, pressing lightly. “Right now.. all you need is me”
You grind your hips up into him, moaning at the stimulation. He bites his lip at this, pressing harder into you. You gasp. Your body jolting more into him, tits bouncing. He can feel how wet you are. You drenched your panties with your arousal. All for him.
He aligns his cock to your mouth again, shoving the head of it inside. He pushes your head down, forcing you to take a few more inches. “Cmon, suck it” he moves his hips back and forth to gently fuck your mouth.
It takes your brain a few seconds to process the command, but you quickly pick up on it and hollow your cheeks. Moaning around his cock, sending vibrations throughout his body it feels like.
“Oh! Oh fuuuuck yeah, that’s it” he lets go of his shaft to steady himself against a wall beside him. Leaning on it with his forearm, he’s squeezing his fist so tight, digging his fingernails into the palm of his hand.
He snaps his hips forward, forcing more of his cock down your throat. He knows you can’t deep throat him, but fuck is it hot watching you try.
When he lets the grip on your head loosen, you start to move your head up and down. When his tip hits the back of your throat, he knows he’s about to cum soon. He feels the tightening in his balls, and the knot in his stomach.
“I’m gonna.. ah! Mmm fuck.. I’m gonna cum in your mouth, okay?” He looks at you for permission, when you sort of nod and then whine around his dick, he quickly lets go of your head to wrap a hand around himself.
Taking his cock out of your mouth, you look at him confused. “Stick your tongue out, bunny” as you do just that, he puts the head of it on your tongue and goes onto jerking himself off. “You look so pretty right now, all f’ me, right? yeah.. nobody else gets to ah!- see you like this.”
When he cums his arms and leg muscles spasm, hunching over you a bit. You form your tongue into more of a cup to hold his spunk.
He also pulls away from you a bit to paint your chest with white. He’s panting like crazy, staring down at you. Despite just finishing, his cock jumps from the sight in front of him. You, staring up at him with these lidded eyes.. holding his cum in your mouth along with your tits covered in him.
He breathlessly tells you too- “Swallow.” You are looking into his eyes when you do. Both of you have a full body shudder at this for different reasons, for you, it’s the bitter taste. For him, what’s fills his mind is that.. you now have *his* load inside of you. Claiming you as his in a way.
After he calms down, it seems as though he somehow.. snaps out of whatever haze he was in.
If turtles could blush, his whole body would be red. He picks you up and brings you to his bed, apologizing all the while. “I have no idea what came over me! I am so sorry, did I hurt you?!” - he lays you down and grabs wipes to clean off your chest. You have this amused look on your face watching him ramble away.
“Do you hate me?” He can’t even look you in the eye, looking off to the side as he asks this silly question.
You start laughing, “Donnie! I could never hate you. If I didn’t like what was going on I would’ve told you.”
A relieved expression washes over him as he lets out a sigh, as if he was holding his breath. Now it’s your turn to shyly look away - “Actually.. I really liked.. that side of you.” You squeeze your thighs together, looking him in the eyes this time - “I want you to do it again. If you are comfortable with that?” Your eyes, doe eyed and hazy.
He could never say no to you.
Waking up to wet sounds when you live with puppy!steddie. And when you open your eyes one of them is licking inside your mouth and the other is licking out your cunt. Although you suppose they both had a shot down there
hybrid au faq
this post is 18+ and dark, minors dni. (dubcon; somnophilia)
the messiness and the sloppiness and the drool... *wistful sigh*
hnngh you're so groggy that your body's not awake yet so you're trying to figure out what the sound is and then you start feeling something wet and warm and really good down below. you open your eyes to try and figure out what's going on but you can't see anything past two inches in front of your face!! eddie's got his hands on your cheeks and he's straddling you, more your stomach than your pelvis, though, because steve needs room. you can taste your arousal on his tongue as he laps at your own, tail thumping happily against the mattress. he catches your eyes fluttering open and he's all of a sudden even more eager, drool slipping down your chin as he licks his own into your mouth. you let out a moan, hazy with sleep, but it peters out into a whine when you feel steve suck on your clit. You try craning your head up and over eddie's shoulder but he chases your mouth, tongue smearing saliva against your cheek as he fights to continue - you catch a glimpse of steve before eddie's messy curls are in your way again, and you feel his tongue lap up the drool pooling under your tongue. you hum as steve ravages you, grunting and groaning as he's licking up the remains of the orgasm eddie had prompted from you and building up a new one just below your belly. you reach around eddie as best you can to scratch at steve's floppy ears and you feel him tilt his face in your hand to lick your palm in a very messy good morning, a sticky stain left on your skin as he goes back to making out with your sloppy cunt - you feel him lap your slick all the way up to your clit, smearing it over the sensitive bud, then he sucks it clean and goes back to fucking his tongue into your hole - you suppose it's just the fact that it's your second orgasm of the morning but it hits you like a freight train, a steady build of pressure that bleeds out of you in a wave of cum that you're surprised doesn't splatter onto steve's face from how deeply he's buried inside of you - you have to stop scratching at his ears as you come down from your high because the moans that you'd let out while cumming had made eddie even more excited, and you're starting to gag on his tongue - you give steve one last good scratch and tug his shirt towards you as you retract your hand, prompting him to join you on the bed. when you get your hand back you gently push at eddie's cheeks, keeping him at a reasonable distance so that you don't choke on his tongue anymore - steve nudges his way into the kiss as well and his chin and tongue are still glistening with your slick, you can taste yourself on his tongue as he licks his way into your mouth for a kiss of his own. eddie shifts his focus at the taste, tongue rolling over steve's own to clean him up, and trailing to his chin when the hybrid realizes there's more mess there. you're given momentary peace as eddie cleans up steve's face, chest heaving as you process what you woke up to - as soon as steve's sufficiently clean eddie turns back to you, licking up a smear of drool that had seeped down your chin. he tucks his face into your neck as he starts calming down, scooting back to his own side of the bed so that steve can have his. you wrap your arms around them both as they snuggle into you and thank them for waking you up so nicely, their tails thump against the mattress as they tell you you smelled and tasted so good, they just couldn't help spoiling you <333
No one makes better tea than Barbatos.
BARBATOS x f!Reader 0.9k words | NSFW | Yandere | Non-con somnophilia Content warnings: Yandere thoughts/behaviours, non-con somnophilia, drugging, stalking. A/N: Another segment of what I've been calling "The Creepy Castle AU" in my head.
When you enter the guest room provided for you at the Demon Lord's castle, there’s a steaming cup of tea on the nightstand. It’s not the first time Barbatos surprised you like this during one of your visits, and the kind gesture makes you smile.
You pick up the delicate porcelain cup and inhale the fragrant aroma - it’s sweet and slightly herbal, a blend of Devildom berries and flowers you can’t identify yet by smell.
You purse your lips and blow gently across the top. The murky red liquid ripples gently as you cool your drink. Your first sip is hesitant, but you hum appreciatively at the light, honeyed taste. You take another generous sip before setting the cup back down onto its saucer.
There’s a folded piece of clothing on the bedspread. When you lift it in front of you, you realize it’s a nightgown; the fabric is soft and semi-sheer, dyed a beautiful shade of dark blue. It falls just above your knees. You can tell by the feel of it that it’s luxurious, nothing that you would ever buy for yourself and certainly not to sleep in.
You attended a ball earlier this evening at Diavolo’s castle. Lucifer and his brothers insisted you join them. Diavolo welcomed you tonight with open arms.
The night was a blur of dancing and drinking and jubilant conversation. By the time the last guests departed, it was well past midnight and Lucifer readily accepted Diavolo’s offer to stay at the castle. Walking back to the House of Lamentation was a daunting proposition; more than one of his brothers drank too much tonight.
Lucifer and his brothers wandered off to their nearby guest rooms to sleep. Barbatos led you further down the hall and showed you to an exquisite room for your own use. He explained he prepared it for you at Diavolo’s request, to ensure your privacy and comfort. He wished you a good evening before he walked away.
You have nothing with you except a small purse and the dress on your back, purchased earlier that day with Asmodeus. If you twist oh so carefully, you can just reach the zipper and tug it down. The dress slides off your shoulders and glides lazily to the floor and pools at your feet. You drape the dress carefully over the back of an armchair so it doesn’t wrinkle too terribly by morning.
The cool castle air chills your skin and you can feel your bare nipples harden. It might not be appropriate to sleep mostly-naked when you’re a guest of the young prince. You feel ill-prepared for a night away from the comforts of home, but then you glance at the gift on your bed.
The nightgown fits perfectly and the material is silky against your skin. You pull back the blankets and slide into bed, sitting against the headboard with a tired sigh. You cradle the teacup in your palm and take more small sips. The warm liquid relaxes you, and soon you’re sleepy and can drink no more. You set the nearly-empty cup back on the nightstand and shimmy down the mattress to get comfortable. Once your head rests on the soft, cloud-like pillow, you close your weary eyes.
When your breathing slows and you descend into deep sleep, the candles that light the room blow out. The shadows come alive when you're bathed in darkness. Sin slips through the cracks of stone, the walls giving way so no more barriers exist between you.
Greedy eyes drink in your sleeping form and the sheets are tugged away, revealing your soft, touchable skin draped in midnight blue. The sheer fabric clings to each dip and groove and curve when you breathe.
He knew you would look lovely in this.
He dares to reach towards your sleeping face - his once-steady hands now shaking with anticipation, the urge to explore too overwhelming to resist. Beneath the supple leather gloves he wears, he can still feel the warmth of your skin that makes the craving he feels for you bloom deep in his belly.
His hand traces the fragile column of your throat and over the slope of your breasts, fingers gliding over the dips and curves of your chest and waist. The swell of your hip fits so perfectly in his hand. He dares to trail his thumb along the top of your thigh and into the warm space between your legs. Wandering fingers skim the lacy underwear you left on. He feels a hint of dampness there, and he wonders what sinful dreams his tea has given you.
He shifts the fabric aside and your light scent is even stronger now, sweet and musky and all his. He teases the edge of your folds and revels in how soft and warm you are. His movements are gentle, smoothed by the barest traces of slick gathering on his gloves. He wonders how greedy he can be tonight–
You squirm in your sleep and he pulls away quickly as though burned by the temptation of getting too close. You unconsciously rub your thighs together and he already misses his place between them. He savors his consolation prize when he slips his fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean until he’s devoured every last drop of you. He barely suppresses the urge to moan.
He needs to go, now, or he never will.
He slips back into the hidden passageway buried within the castle walls and becomes nothing but a shadow once more. He leaves no trace behind, except for the dregs of sleeping herbs in the bottom of your teacup.
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.”
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.
Keep reading
currently thinking abt pervert lucifer + MC getting stuck in a wall / hole and he’s just unable to help himself it’s his dream come true
HOLY-
YOU ARE A GENIUS-
—
A spell went wrong, of course. Trying out teleporting magic for "homework" that you were definitely studying for and you somehow ended up in the wall between Lucifer's room and the hallway outside.
Luckily for you, your upper body was out in the hall. But was Lucifer in his room yet ? You can't call anyone on your D.D.D.... it's in your pocket, on the other side of the wall.
Little did you know, Lucifer was sitting in his bed, the book that he was previously reading now ignored in his lap as Lucifer's eyes stare at what's in front of him.
Was this a dream come true ?
How could he ever pass up an opportunity like this ?
You heard shuffling from the otherside of the wall, oh good Lucifer was in his room. As long as you get out of the wall, you don't mind a 2 hour long lecture to come with it.
What you didn't expect were hands to grasp at your waist, caressing over your ass and up your lower back as you felt his hard cock press against your ass. You clenched your thighs and covered your mouth as yourface burned with heat, there's no way THE Lucifer would be turned on from you being stuck in a wall. What a pervert...
It wasn't long until Lucifer kicked your feet to spread your legs apart as he roughly pulled down your pants, he didn't even get to pull your pants down all the way until he was shoving lubed fingers into you. Hearing your moans from behind the wall made his head spin. Lucifer quickly prepped you, he wanted nothing more than to use this perfect circumstance and use you over and over as he pleased. And then he'll think about getting you out.
It'll be hours and you're still in the wall, your upper half slumped as you try to hold yourself up as you panted. You can feel so much cum dripping out of your hole and down your thighs. No doubt there's already a pool of cum beside your feet. It's a shame you can't see Lucifer. He is a mess.
His face a deep red with a stream of drool down his chin and his hair disheveled, you can't see him so there's no point in making himself look less of a starved perverted man. You could feel a drop of warm drool drip onto your back as you hear Lucifer moan on the otherside of the wall.
You felt Lucifer's cock slip out of you, and whimpered when cum followed out. Just as you think you'll finally be saved from out of the wall, Lucifer's hand is caressing up your thighs to your ass to spread you out to him. It's obvious he's not had his fill. It's gonna be a while,,