#helluva boss reader insert
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roo-bi-unrestricted · 2 years ago
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" ꜱᴜᴄʜ ᴀ ᴄᴜᴛᴇ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴘʟᴀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ.. "
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ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢꜱ : ꜱᴛᴏʟᴀꜱ / ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ : ᴀɴᴏɴ
ᴄᴀᴛᴇɢᴏʀʏ : ꜱᴍᴜᴛ
ᴛʏᴘᴇ ᴏꜰ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ : ɢᴇɴᴅᴇʀ ɴᴇᴜᴛʀᴀʟ ( ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʜᴀꜱ ꜰᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ɢᴇɴᴛɪᴀʟꜱ )
ᴛʏᴘᴇ : ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴɴᴏɴ
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ : 479 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ
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ꜱᴛᴏʟᴀꜱ
I could imagine the two of you fucking either because Blitzo loaned you off to Stolas since he was too busy to fulfill his side of the agreement he had with Stolas or the owl requested your presence when he was lonely.
The Goetia swings both ways when it comes to BDM. You could tie him up or vice versa, and he wouldn't mind. The prince is more on the submissive side, allowing you to dominate him to your heart's content.
Stolas makes a lot of lewd sounds, his moans, screams, and begging echo through the room as you pound into him. His legs wrap around your hips tightly. Having him blindfolded while you tease him is one of his favorite kinks.
Especially if you tie him up while he's on his back. You can hear his wings flap in excitement and frustration as you edge him closer and closer to the edge of climax, but you don't let him.
You can feel his feathers rise whenever he's close, and when you finally decide to let him, he lets out the most lewd sound ever. It's almost animalistic, and the only time you've heard a sound like that is from an animal in heat.
Stolas likes it when you pull his feathers. If you were going to soften on him, he would grab your hand and shove it into his chest, making sure that you were gripping the base of the feathers and pulling them hard.
He would even beg for you to leave bite marks, scratches, and hickeys all over him. That's also another one of the Goetia's kinks. When it's time to switch, the prince is very dominant. He loves to ride you, using his long tongue to explore your body and make you his plaything.
The Goetia makes sure to belong your orgasms.
Since the bird doesn't have a cock of his own, he would finger or eat you out. He knows that you would love the way his tongue feels inside of you, so warm, slick and wet. Stolas loves to praise and degrade you, telling you how amazing you were for him. Tell you how naughty you're being.
He is always willing to go another round, especially if you use his toys on him. Putting a vibrator right next to his cloaca while he's blindfolded makes him go crazy. He loves the feeling of not knowing where the vibrations would be placed and when they would happen.
.
Stolas would definitely invite you over again. He would never see you as more than a sex buddy or a friend, nothing more. He would make sure to give you the best aftercare of your life ( afterlife. ) Even letting you stay the night if it was your first time with him.
You were a good lay, but the prince was still very much in love with Blitzo. He may consider inviting you both over to ravage him once more.
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plushish · 1 year ago
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18+ | navigation
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hey!!!! my name is plush and i like to write sometimes. i'm a 20 y/o and go by any pronouns. my biggest interests at the moment are the twin series helluva boss & hazbin hotel. mammon, vox, rosie, and fizzarolli are some of my favourite characters, but i write for mostly all of them! if you prefer, you can read my stuff here on my ao3.
please remember to be mindful of the tags & warnings in my posts, as mature themes and sensitive topics are often present in my writing! pay particular attention to tags at the beginning of my posts. dead dove: do not eat. no minors allowed here!!
my asks are always open here for requests, the sharing of headcanons, questions, or anything at all.
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masterlist, request guidelines, & more to come as i settle into this new blog yipeee
last updated 3/11/2024 - dividers
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fromduck · 7 months ago
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(Satan x Fallen Angel Reader)
(A/N: From the minute I saw him I— 😳😩)
-Imagine being Satan’s small wife.
-You a little fallen angel that hangs around his shoulder. Being his voice of reason whenever he gets pissed off.
-You fit in the palm of his hands and he’s always picking you up by the scruff of your neck— as if you were an unruly kitten (with how mischievous you get, throwing harmless pranks on him and his followers, could you blame him?)
-You’re always fluttering your wings and trailing after him. Cooing at him, calling him your baby girl when he’s a 20 ft gigantic demon that can spit fire and roast you in a second.
-After a long day of meetings and trials for some sorry hell spawns, he’ll call you over to go home for the day.
-You cuddle next to him in your guys’ gigantic bed, talking his ear off about how your day went while he mindlessly strokes your fluffy wings.
-He huffs at you when you place a big smooch on his snout, wishing him a good night. Huddling next to his face for warmth.
-He may be one of the most fearsome sin out of the seven, but in your eyes, he’s your gentle giant husband. And even though he might not show affection in a normal way—— you know that he loves you too ❤️‍🔥
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signedkoko · 2 years ago
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Alastor | Stolas | Vox [Comfort]
In which the two of you bump into your abusive ex who just arrived in hell.
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You and Alastor always went on walks through hell together, since you enjoyed exploring the outdoors and he enjoyed people watching
Normally things were relatively peaceful, most, if not everyone, knew the radio demon down to every detail, and avoided him at a mere glimpse
He enjoyed telling you about things that reminded him of his past, or encounters he'd had just down the street, while you listened and observed with awe
Unfortunately, your usually peaceful walk was rudely interrupted by an obnoxious shout in your direction
There was someone who looked severely out of place, likely having just fallen, stumbling towards you with a seething grin
Alastor was already annoyed the moment anyone interrupted him, but even more so at the fact that this individual was shouting obscenities at his darling
Nevertheless, he stood stoic by your side, only glancing down at the shorter individual with an animalistic twitch in his eyes
" Can't you hear me, fucking bitch! You're the slut who put me down her- "
Once your hand gripped onto Alastor's wrist, tugging him, the man's head was sliced clean off, smashing into a building across the street and leaving a visceral splatter
Alastor was already removing his wrist from your hand to wipe the blood from his cane with a handkerchief
Once the body hit the ground with a thud, he had his arm around your waist and lifted you over it, continuing his walk as if nothing had occurred
" And that impeccable diner over there! I just have to take you, it reminds me of my many evenings after the late shows! "
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Stolas had heard enough about the life you lived on earth, each momentous day and each sad tale that made up your story
He knew he was never able to protect you up there, and vows to do so now that you are by his side in the afterlife, offering an eternity of protection
Inevitably, he understood some people who had hurt you would eventually find themselves down here, and that some may try to hurt you, so he refused to let you wander alone for too long
It didn't even have to be him, so long as someone he knew could protect you was nearby
Unfortunately, the first to find you was the worst possible individual
The one who had raised their hand so many times to you, and left you with scars Stolas wished he could erase along with every worry
It was one of your date nights, visiting some upper class restaurant after having washed a romance in theatres
You were both dressed to the nines, laughing in one another's company and waiting for the cab you'd called since you'd finished sooner than expected
The both of you climbed in, only for the doors to instantly lock, tearing off without any word or signal from either of you
Stolas laughed it off for a moment, asking the driver if he already knew your destination, though he stopped when he noticed your eyes locked onto the rearview mirror
" Already moving on to someone else? Think I'm not good enough for you? "
The voice was calm but eerie, aimed directly as you
You looked horrified, and Stolas' heart raced as he connected the pieces together
One moment, the car was racing down the road, and the next, you were in the royalty's arms being carried away from a totalled car burning up in flames
You'd only blinked your eyes
Stolas held you tighter that evening, and refused to let go for weeks after
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Vox was an extremely busy person
So unfortunately your intimate time together was rare
Despite that, Vox always invited you into his studio with him while he worked, so at least you'd be near one another and he could know you were safe
I mean, you were always safe so long as he could reach you, and modern tech was everywhere in hell nowadays
But he was extra protective since he'd learnt your ex had entered hell
Had he told you? No. Did he feel guilty about it? Yes.
But he just didn't want you to have to worry, and seeing you happily working away at a new project or hobby without a care in the world was just so, so...precious
Eventually he knew he would have to crack the news, but he hadn't anticipated your ex would find you so soon
It was a late night in the studio, with Vox overlooking several large screens as countless information transferred to and from his own database, analysing every media and algorithm
You were behind him, sat in a leather armchair, reading one of the many books that lined the book shelf he kept around as decoration
People came in and out of the floor through an elevator, though as the time got later, the frequency dwindled down severely
When it dinged for the first time that hour, neither of you were too bothered, Vox continuing without a flinch and you looking up for just a moment
Your gaze never went back to your book, though, stuck on the face that had a hateful sneer aimed straight at you
The phone in your pocket dinged with an alert, something about your heart rate increasing drastically in too short a time, and the information registered into Vox in milliseconds
" Finally, I fucking found you! "
One step out of the elevator, and the door clamped shut around their second leg with a loud crack, forcing your ex down onto one knee
Vox only turned to you, ignoring the wailing figure
" Oh man I really should have told you they were here! You can yell at me after. "
The suited man then walked towards your ex as the doors slowly released, kneeling down in front of him with a cackle
" Pathetic. Freak. "
Vox kicked them back into the elevator, and you heard the thing drop at high speeds back down the skyscraper
Security would handle the mess
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Author's Note - I wanted to write for some of my favs to get us started off, and went for a prompt I see pretty often. If you like what I do, please consider sending in a request 🖤
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lqveharrington · 1 year ago
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Lucky King? | L.M.
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summary: Lucifer takes pride in everything he has, especially his wife.
pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x wife!reader
includes: fluff, lucifer being a sweet and attentive husband and father, suggestiveness, possessiveness, that’s pretty much it (let me know if i missed any!)
a/n: okay but like, i am on serious hazbin brain rot, i have written more for HH than any other fandom so far.
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Being the embodiment of pride meant that Lucifer constantly flaunted everything to his fellow sins and his people. And being the King of Hell meant he had a lot to brag about. Especially his family. God, Lucifer loved his family and would do anything to talk about them in every conversation.
An overlord meeting about movie productions on VoxFlix? Add romantic comedies, they’re his wife and daughter’s favorite. Speaking with Beelzebub about her different alcoholic beverages? Make sure to make mojitos, they’re his wife and daughter’s favorite.
He took pride in who he married and who his daughter was. After all, they were the royal family of Hell.
“Mom, I think it’s as tight as it can go— MOM!” Charlie’s eyes flashed red as she squealed, grabbing your arm.
“Sorry!” You tilt your head back as you let a laugh fall from your lips. “I thought you said—“
“No no no no noooo!” She turned around, eyes wide. “I think I’m good.”
“I’m sorry, baby.” You kiss her cheek and adjust her crown.
Charlie beamed at you and traded places with you. “My turn!”
You hum as she tightens the corset around you, eyes flickering up toward the mirror when you hear the door creak open. “Hey, handsome.”
“Hi, my love.” He pressed a kiss to your hand and then one to Charlie’s forehead. “Hi, apple pie.” He watched his daughter tug on the strings attached to the corset, moving forward when it seemed like you were going to fall from the platform. “Charlie, what are you doing to your mother?”
“Pulling her corset tight—“ She grunted as she held the string in place, tying the back. “There.” You gave her a thumbs up as she finished, watching her glow at your silent praise.
“Gorgeous as always.” Lucifer stole you from your platform, the devil’s tail wrapping around your waist.
“You know? Vaggie is probably looking for me! I should leave…” Charlie let out an awkward laugh and fled for the door. “Text me when you need me for the entrance!”
Lucifer dipped you down, chuckling when you let out a noise of surprise. “You look breathtaking, my love. Maybe we should just skip the gala and do better activities right here—“
“Lucifer!” You lightly smack his chest, face flushed from his words. “You horny devil!”
“Says the queen of Hell.” He captured you in a quick kiss, red lipstick staining his lips. “Come on, Charlie can handle it on her own.” He squeezed your hips as you walked over to the vanity with his head resting on your bare shoulder.
You glance at your beloved with a soft look, “Luce, we didn’t coordinate a whole gala just to have our daughter host it herself.” You clip on a pair of earrings, the golden snake and apple shining through the light. “We also didn’t have these outfits made for us just for them to be wasted away on our bedroom floor.”
“I mean…” He nipped on your exposed shoulder, earning a gasp and glare. “They made you a maroon dress with a slit exposing your legs, my love.”
“Because it matches your maroon and black suit.” You turn in his arms and tug at his lapels. “Which I have to admit, kinda does it for me.”
He smirked as he slowly pushed you up against the vanity, “Yeah? Maybe we should ditch.”
“Nope.” Your hands clasped behind his neck, eyes widening when you feel one of his hands trail down to your exposed leg. “Luce…”
“You started this.” He slotted himself between your legs and continuously peppered kisses to your collarbone and neck, softly sucking. “You’re a tease.”
“Lucifer—“ Your protests were cut off with a quiet moan, but you quickly covered your mouth when hearing him chuckle. “Nope, we’re leaving now.”
Lucifer separated from you, a wide grin adorning his face as he scanned you. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, “Let’s go then, my love.”
You raised a brow but didn’t protest, letting him wrap his arm around your waist to guide you toward the ballroom. You both were quickly accompanied by your daughter as you made your way to the landing of the grand stairway.
The lights flashed off and the spotlight projected on the Morningstar family, the crowd’s voice hushed when spotting the monarchy. Lucifer gave a welcoming speech to the sinners, overlords, and sins who attended, making sure to mention his family and how they helped make the gala entirely possible. Final rounds of applause echoed through the ballroom as Lucifer finished off, letting everyone go back to their socialization and dancing.
“Mom,” Charlie caught you before you could follow Lucifer to greet his fellow sins. “Did you… Do you know why… You have bruises on your neck.” She finally mumbled out, eyes not meeting yours.
You felt yourself warm from embarrassment. Not only did your daughter tell you that you have hickeys on your neck, but you stood in the blinding lights with an audience staring at the three of you. No doubt photographers caught this and snapped photos for the internet. “Thank you for telling me, baby. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to murder your father.”
“Mom—“
You scanned the room before your gaze zeroed on Lucifer. He was laughing with Asmodeus before meeting your gaze and gave you a wink. Oh, he was going to pay.
“Lucifer.” You appear by his side. You give his fellow sin a quick smile but turn back to the little devil with a scowl. “Can I talk to you?”
“Of course.” He wrapped an arm around your waist. “It was nice catching up with you, Oz.”
You guided Lucifer back to a secluded hallway, eyes flashing bright red when you were alone. Within a blink of an eye, you had Lucifer pinned against the wall with your forearm.
“Do you know how embarrassing it is to know that I went out there with bruises all over my neck? Or, better yet, that our daughter was the one who told me what was on my neck?” You seethed. You were beyond embarrassed and pissed, you’re surprised you haven’t become a full demon yet.
“To be fair, it was more than just your neck—“
“LUCIFER!” You use your free hand to reach up your collarbone. The room felt ten times warmer, and it didn’t help that you felt Lucifer’s devil tail decided to wrap around your calf.
He remained pinned on the wall, giving you a cheeky grin. “This is really hot.”
“Oh, my god!” You release him with a glare. “There’s going to be photos everywhere! What will the public think about—“
“Lucky king?” He shrugged as he let his fingers trail up your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Listen, we’ll get rid of the photos. But is it really a crime to show off what’s mine?”
You grumble a small response, propping your head on his shoulder. “You’re crazy, Luce.”
“I love you too, beautiful.” He chuckled.
The photos never made it outside of Pride Manor, but the teasing you received from the other sins made you flush every time. Lucifer listened to each jeer, a smirk present on his face from the constant reminder that you were in fact his.
Especially when the bruises scattered around you spelled out his initials.
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©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms
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littlepputo · 1 year ago
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Hb head canons of how they would be during yk 🫣
A/N: Idk if I'm going to do a part two to this lovely request
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Warnings: smut, Gn reader , Praise kink, degrading kink, semi public sex
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Stolas
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰*.:。✧*.。:。*.。✱ ───
I see stolas as a soft dom or a switch.
He likes to take things slow, likes to take his time with you enjoy every moment he has you in his arms.
He most definitely realises on your praises, telling him he's making you good or that he's hitting all the right places.
And seeing as he never got the love and praise he desperately needed from his father or even Stella. He's basically putty in your hands when you do praise him.
▬▬ι══════════════ι▬▬
Asmodeus
Heheh
I think much like Stolas he likes to take it slow, enjoying his time with you.
Finding out what places of your body is most pleasurable, what makes you scream and moan out his name.
He's the embodiment of lust he's had years centuries to learn what makes a soul scream out his name.
And don't even get me start on that wife beater.
♧⌞⌝⌟⌜⌞⌝⌟⌜⌞⌝⌟⌜⌞♧♧⌞⌝⌟⌜⌞⌝⌟⌜⌞⌝⌟⌜⌞♧♧⌞⌝⌟⌜⌞⌝⌟⌜⌞⌝⌟⌜⌞♧
Andrealphous
This sassy man knows his way around the bedroom, pleasuring his partner is basically what he's focusing on whenever he gets the chance.
He definitely praises and degrades his partner, anything to get a raise out of them. Hes totally into begging, it makes him feel like he has much more power and control over the situation.
ೋ❀❀ೋ═══ ❀ ═══ೋ❀❀ೋ
Blitzø
Blitzø definitely has a high sex drive, and he'll basically do it anywhere. This man has no shame.
It gets him more excited than he should be, covering your mouth to keep you quiet as he basically pounds into you as if its his last day in hell.
Whenever you guys are in his office he'll sometimes if not all the times having you give him a bj while he's talking to a client, trying to keep a straight face.
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cherryrainn · 1 year ago
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begging u for some fem reader blitzø smut 🙏 we need more blitzø content in this world
━━ ✧ 𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬 ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
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─ ✩ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ; blitzø + fem!reader
─ ✩ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ; i'm proud of this. and YEAH SO TRUE
─ ✩ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ; sexual content, smut, oral sex, penetrative sex, rough sex, dirty talk,
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you push open the heavy door to i.m.p headquarters, expecting to hear the usual cacophony of voices and the shenanigans that often accompany a typical workday. instead, you're met with an unsettling silence. the absence of moxxie's chatter, millie's boisterous laughter, and even loona's sarcastic remarks leaves the place feeling eerily still.
raising an eyebrow, you shrug off the unusual quietude and decide to head straight to blitzo's office. the walls adorned with contracts and pictures of past assignments close in on you as you make your way down the corridor.
you've always sensed a strange, electric tension between you and blitzo. the stolen glances, the lingering touches — yet, neither of you has dared to cross that unspoken boundary.
as you approach blitzo's office, you can't help but feel a flutter in your chest. was he even in there?
you've had your eyes on each other for what feels like forever, but circumstances, or maybe just sheer cowardice, have kept things between you strictly professional.
you knock lightly on blitzo's door, already half-expecting it to swing open without a response. to your surprise, the door creaks open almost immediately, revealing blitzo leaning back in his chair, feet propped up on the desk cluttered with paperwork and empty whiskey bottles. was he waiting for you? classic.
"ah, if it isn't the most fuckable employee walkin' through that door," blitzo drawls, his red eyes lighting up with mischief as he takes in your appearance. "took ya long enough."
rolling your eyes but unable to hide the smirk tugging at your lips, you step into the room, closing the door behind you. "looks like everyone decided to play hooky today. even loona?"
blitzo chuckles, lowering his feet to the ground as he leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "yeah, somethin' like that. mox and mil.. more like a 'family day out,' or some sappy shit like that. loona.. i dunno. left me here all alone, can you believe it?"
you say nothing. you move closer to the desk.
it's just you and him.
blitzo breaks the silence first, his voice husky and laced with an unfamiliar vulnerability. "y'know, for all the shit we've been through, all the near-death experiences and fucked-up assignments, there's somethin' i've been meanin' to tell you."
your heart pounds in your chest as you lean in, captivated by the intensity in his eyes. "oh? and what's that?"
he smirks, a devilish glint in his gaze as he reaches across the desk, his fingers lightly grazing yours. "fuck the paperwork."
before you can process what's happening, blitzo is standing before you, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you into a rough kiss.
your lips crash against his as he tightens his grip on you, his hands roaming over your body, desperate and hungry. he bites your bottom lip, earning a moan from you, and your tongues dance together as you deepen the kiss.
heat pools in your core as blitzo's hand slips under your top, his claws raking down your back. he pushes you onto the desk, and you find yourself trapped beneath him, his frame pressing you against the wooden surface.
the sound of ripping fabric fills the room as blitzo tears off your top, exposing your bare chest. he lowers his mouth to your breasts, his tongue teasing your nipples before sucking on them. you writhe beneath him, your breath hitching as his fingers trail down your stomach and under the waistband of your jeans.
"tell me you want this," blitzo murmurs, his voice hoarse with desire as his fingers brush against your clit.
"yes, please, i want you," you whisper, your own voice trembling as you cling to him.
that's all the encouragement he needs. in a blur of movement, blitzo yanks off your pants (or whatever you're wearing) and underwear, tossing them aside as he kneels between your legs.
his tongue flicks against your folds, causing you to buck your hips against him. he chuckles, his breath hot against your sensitive skin, before pushing his tongue inside of you.
you let out a moan as he begins to lick and suck at your entrance, his fingers massaging your clit. the heat inside you is unbearable, and you arch your back, trying to pull him deeper inside of you.
blitzo pulls away, his eyes burning with lust as he looks up at you. "god, you taste so fuckin' good."
you reach down, grabbing his horn, guiding his head back down to your dripping cunt. he groans against you, his tongue plunging inside of you once more, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.
the wet sounds of his mouth against your pussy echo throughout the room, mingling with the sounds of your whimpers and moans. you feel yourself growing closer and closer to climax, your grip on his horn tightening.
"fuck, blitz," you whimper, your thighs quivering as you teeter on the edge of release.
suddenly, blitzo stops, pulling away from you. you whimper, the loss of his touch leaving you feeling cold and empty.
"why'd you stop?" you pant, your eyes pleading for him to continue.
"i think you can do better than that," blitzo smirks, his gaze never leaving yours as he slowly rises to his feet, unfastening his pants.
your eyes widen as his cock springs free, already hard and throbbing. his hands grip your thighs, spreading your legs open as he positions himself between them.
you bite your lip as he enters you, your walls stretching to accommodate his size. he grunts, his hands digging into your flesh as he begins to thrust into you.
the sensation of him filling you, his cock hitting every right spot, is almost too much to bear. you cry out, arching your back as he pounds into you, his movements frantic and desperate.
"oh, fuck, blitz!" you moan, your hands grasping his shoulders, holding on for dear life.
"that's better," he growls, his voice ragged and full of need.
his fingers dig into your thighs, the pain mixing with the pleasure, sending you spiraling towards your release. your muscles tense, your body tingling with the delicious friction of him moving inside of you.
"are you gonna cum for me, baby?" he whispers, his eyes locked with yours.
"yes!" you moan, the heat building inside you reaching a breaking point.
blitzo smirks, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more frenzied. "go ahead then, cum for me."
you cry out, the coil of pleasure inside you snapping as you reach your peak. your body shakes with the force of your orgasm, the waves of pleasure crashing over you, leaving you breathless and spent.
blitzo lets out a guttural groan, his cock pulsing inside of you as he comes undone. his hips slam against yours, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the room as he empties himself into you.
you collapse onto the desk, sweaty and panting, the euphoric afterglow of your orgasm washing over you. blitzo leans over you, his face inches from yours, his red eyes gazing into yours.
"shiiit," he says, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. "i think i love you."
you smile, a warmth spreading through your chest as you wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer. "i think i love you too."
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kaylopolis · 1 year ago
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Alastor's Shadow (18+) Masterlist
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Alastor x F!Reader, Alias: Thestral
Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months sooner than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. Afterall, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plans brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down, but also challenge your grab for power��� 
Tags: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut 
Author note: This is my first attempt at a fanfic, but I was just so inspired and wanted to post it somewhere after writing like +67K words (and counting). So here goes nothing I guess?
Warnings: Minors DNI! 18+! May contain disturbing, gruesome, and graphic sexual scenes. Graphic violence. Blood. Obsession. Mentions of abuse. Mentions of substance abuse. Trigger warnings will be given at the beginning of each chapter. 
“Power is of two kinds. One is obtained by the fear of punishment and the other by acts of love. Power based on love is a thousand times more effective and permanent than the one derived from fear…” 
- Mahatma Gandhi
-> Chapter One - The Commercial
-> Chapter Two - Breakfast
-> Chapter Three - Care for a Drink? Spice 🔥
-> Chapter Four - The Meeting
-> Chapter Five - Night's Mistress Smut 💦
-> Chapter Six - A Stroll Spice 🔥
-> Chapter Seven - Forget Me Knot Smut 💦
-> Chapter Eight - The Headliner Spice🔥
-> Chapter Nine - A Black Suit Spice🔥
-> Chapter Ten - Cute Smut 💦
-> Chapter Eleven - Lucifer's Visit
-> Chapter Twelve - The Kidnapping
-> Chapter Thirteen - The Truth
-> Chapter Fourteen - Picking a Fight Smut 💦
—> A message to the readers
-> Chapter Fifteen - Heaven's Worst Kept Secret Smut 💦
-> Chapter Sixteen - Let’s Kill God Smut 💦
-> Chapter Seventeen - The Countdown Cuteness ❤️
Alternative Endings:
My Fawn & My Shadow:
-> Chapter Eighteen - The Endgame
-> Epilogue
Paris
-> Chapter Eighteen - The Endgame
-> Epilogue
->Afterword
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bearw-me · 1 year ago
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Can we have verosika with a kind and cute s/o who's soul is own by Alastor ?
𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐬 — 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐇𝐜𝐬
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𐐒 includes : verosika mayday x gender neutral!reader, alastor 𐐒 cw : fluff, angst, hurt/comfort 𐐒 summary : verosika finds out the truth one day, and 'comes to terms' in her own way 𐐒 note : anyone else get that 'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned' quote while reading this? just me?
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verosika is absolutely enraptured by you
she adores teasing you and flustering you beyond belief
likes to call you "sweetheart"
running her hands down your chest and purring right next to your ear, nipping at your skin
you really are too cute to be in hell
but she adores your innocence
to the point where she often finds herself feeling the pang of love aggression
she likes to use her succubus powers and voice to coax you out of your imaginary shell she envisions you wearing
(despite all her playing around with you) she really treasures you
its like the devastating burden that love has on people
she wants to shield you from everything hell has to offer
and that thought goes out the window the moment she hears those words leave your mouth
"Alastor own's my soul"
Hell burns around her. truly.
She has no idea who 'Alastor' is, and doesn't didn't care for petty soul exchanges or overlords until you confessed it to her
she snaps her fingers and gets her group of succubus and hellhounds to find out EVERYTHING about him
its definitely a side of her she'd never let you see, let alone worry about
if you cried to her, she'd hold you, for once feeling powerless to fix it
"Don't worry sweetheart, I'm going to fix it."
She knows any bastard down here, especially overlords, wouldn't give up a soul for nothing
she'd definitely offer him cash, power, or a favor. but not her soul.
she's more cunning than people give her credit for, so coming to find common ground with alastor is going to be hard
if there's a way out of your contract with him, she promises she'll find it for you one day
your definitely her heart, and in turn she'll be you're revenge
it breaks her heart to have you in her arms on the bed, cuddling into the sweet scent of your hair and kissing you, only for you disappear the next moment. summoned by Alastor.
You're hers, and that feeling, the feeling of the empty bedsheets next to her. . . isn't right.
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voxslays · 6 months ago
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Hello!! I don't know if you do requests so feel free to ignore this 💔
Could you do Verosika with a bitchy human reader who is like totally unaware of her being a demon popstar
SHE-DEVIL
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At first, Verosika is completely shocked. How do you not who she is? Who you just disrespected!? But then remembers that humans don’t exactly have the same popstars as demon-kind.
It’s also a bit refreshing in a way to meet someone who doesn’t immediately want her body or fame—two things that come with being a succubi celebrity.
If the two of you run into each other again, she will have a few nasty comebacks this time—however, it turns into more of a playful banter, and the two of you quickly become frenemies.
Over time, the two of you find yourselves hanging out more often, and Verosika slowly falls for you.
Even though she knows how succubi and human relationships usually turn out…she doesn’t care. You are too important.
And when you eventually do die and end up in hell (which you will for interacting with a succubi and embracing the act of ‘lust’ in heaven’s eyes.) she will be right there waiting to catch you. ;)
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redvexillum · 10 months ago
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Y/N: Hi! Welcome to the Haz-
Emberlynn: O EM GEE! HELLO, MR RADIO DEMON SENPAI-KUN! I WOULD LITERALLY DIE TO TOUCH YOUR TWO KAWAII LITTLE FLOOFY EARS! ONEGAI DESUUUU! HNGHHHHH! GAH! KYAHHHHHHHH! ARA ARA!
Alastor: [Smiles while thinking how literally he should take this]
Y/N: [Sees Alastor's Shadow creeping up menacingly behind Emberlynn] Wai-!
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Follow Vexi's Alastor Being a Lil Shit for all the latest updates!
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jazzmasternot · 1 year ago
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She Hotel on my Hazbin till I’m redeemed..
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Be My Witness Masterlist
Summary: Follow Y/n through her afterlife's story. From movie star to sex worker, to one of Hazbin Hotels first and only residents, witness the wonders and horrors alike in this multipart series about blood, manipulation, friendship and resilience.
Pairings: intimate!platonic Reader x Angel, Reader x Stolas, Reader x Alastor
Series Trigger Warnings: sexual abuse, medical abuse, descriptions of needles, descriptions of blood, drug and alcohol use, cannibalism
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THIS SERIES IS NOT SUITABLE OR INTENDED FOR MINORS OR SENSITIVE READERS. THIS WORK OF FICTION CONTAINS DISTURBING, SEXUAL AND GRUESOME THEMES. READER DISCRETION ADVISED.
Minors, do not interact.
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Part 1 - Introduction
Part 2 - Val and Angel
Part 3 - Falling Star
Part 4 - Turn of the 21st Century
Part 5 - Prince Stolas
Part 6 - b i g f e e l i n g s
Part 7 - Actions
Part 8 - Consequences
Part 9 - i can't get high
Part 10 - Charlie and Vaggie
Part 11 - Almadel Party
Part 12 - Extermination Day
Part 13 - Alastor, The Radio Demon
Part 14 - Intoxication
Part 15 - Coming Soon!
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Heyo!!!! Happy to have yall here!! i love feedback so dont be afraid!! if youd like to be tagged, just let me know :)
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shapard · 5 months ago
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WHERE IS THE PART THREE OF SATAN X SUCCUBUS!? WE'VE BEEN STARVING FOR A MONTH! WHERE IS THE FOOD!??? FOOOOOD!!!!!!
Tantrum
Satan x succubus!fem!reader
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Sabotage
HERE IS IT!! TOOK ME A WHILE BUT HERE IS IT😭 So many requests for the third part and finally I deliver. I have a feeling this is going to end up in a Story🫡Not that I mind🤧
warning: breeding, yandere Satan, p in v, possessive, protective (?), angry satan, punishment, smut, hard smut, Satan is a warning himself ngl
Part 1 -> Part 2 -> Part 3
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Everything felt unbearable, like the air itself was suffocating you. Staying in this place wasn’t just a punishment—it was a living nightmare, a perpetual torment. You looked into the mirror, the faint light casting sharp shadows over your reflection. The silky, elegant garment you wore—a gift from him—clung to your body, its beauty a mockery of your suffering. It hid the bruises, the marks, the evidence of his obsession. But nothing could conceal the newest scar on your thigh.
Your fingers hovered over it, trembling, before brushing against the raw, burning wound. The touch sent a jolt of pain up your spine, but it wasn’t just physical. You blinked rapidly, willing the tears to stay at bay. Healed by Satan, he said. But healing wasn’t what this was—this was ownership, branding, a constant reminder of what you had become.
Your eyes drifted to the window, its glass teasingly thin. Beyond it lay freedom. And death. Both felt synonymous, both equally inviting. You swallowed hard, fighting the urge to throw yourself through it. Your wings twitched faintly at the thought, a reflex more than anything. But you were too afraid to use them, too scared of what he might do if you tried. The thought of his hands tearing them from your back made your stomach churn.
You tightened your grip on your thigh, nails digging into the scar until blood began to seep through. The metallic scent was nauseating, grounding you in the present—a reality you desperately wanted to escape. You wanted to rip this garment off, this sinful, taunting piece of beauty. It was another gift, a symbol of his twisted affections. You hated it. You hated him. And the worst part was that he dared to call this freedom. He dared to tell you this was what you’d always wanted.
The door burst open, and the sharp sound made you flinch, a strangled scream escaping your lips. Your body tensed, instinctively bracing for the worst. But instead, a giggle cut through the tension, light and almost mocking. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” came a cheerful voice.
Your head snapped toward the intruder, your heart racing. It was an Imp—a small creature with an irritatingly smug smile, one of Satan’s personal servants. Her bright eyes scanned you, her expression dripping with amusement. “So you’re the one,” she said, her voice lilting with curiosity. “You’re the obsession he won’t stop talking about.”
Your eyebrows furrowed at her words, but you stayed silent, glaring. Obsession. The word hung in the air like a foul stench. The Imp’s grin widened as if she found the entire situation amusing. “You’re lucky, you know,” she added with a conspiratorial wink, her tone almost envious.
Lucky. The word made your blood boil. You wanted to laugh in her face, to scream at her. Lucky? To be held captive? To be broken and pieced together like some grotesque art project? The thought was so absurd, it felt like a cruel joke. You clenched your fists, the pain in your thigh forgotten for a moment.
The Imp stepped forward, placing a black box tied with a golden ribbon on the desk. “A gift from him,” she chirped. “Something special.” She bowed, her movements quick and rehearsed, before scurrying out of the room like a thief. You didn’t even get the chance to ask her name. Not that it mattered.
“Maybe next time,” you muttered bitterly, your voice shaking with a mixture of anger and despair. Next time. The very thought made your stomach turn. The idea of another encounter, another day in this hell, was unbearable.
Your gaze fell on the box, its dark surface gleaming ominously in the dim light. The ribbon glowed faintly, a deep crimson like freshly spilled blood, its vibrant contrast against the pitch-black wrapping unnerving. You hesitated, your hands hovering over it. Do you open it? Do you dare?
A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you stared at the box. There was nothing normal about Satan, nothing predictable. This wasn’t just a present—it was a message, a reminder of your place here. You ran your fingers over the ribbon, its silky texture feeling almost alive under your touch.
Your mind wandered, unbidden, to the man you once thought he was—a charming, broken soul with a darkness you naively thought you could fix. You had been so wrong. He wasn’t a man. He was a monster, a demon in every sense of the word. And you? You weren’t a person anymore. You were his canvas, his possession, his obsession.
The thought made your chest tighten, a suffocating weight pressing down on you. Your fingers trembled as they moved to the bow. You didn’t want to open it, didn’t want to see whatever twisted token of affection lay inside. But a part of you—the part that had been broken down and reshaped by fear—knew you had no choice.
The silence in the room was deafening as you pulled at the ribbon, the bow unraveling in your hands. Whatever lay inside, you knew it wouldn’t be freedom. It never was.
As the packaging revealed its secret, a cold chill ran down your spine. The contents glimmered like forbidden treasures—heels, black as the void, with blood-red rubies embedded like shards of sin. They seemed to hum, faintly vibrating with an energy you couldn’t name, as if alive. Your instincts screamed to hurl them far, far away, but something deeper, darker, rooted you in place. Your heart thudded erratically, the pulse in your neck quickening. The heels were mesmerizing, hauntingly beautiful, a temptation wrapped in menace.
Your breath caught when a folded paper, as crimson as fresh-spilled blood, drifted from the box and landed atop the open ribbon like a silent omen. With trembling fingers, you lifted it and unfolded the note.
Come visit me in my office.
With love, Satan
The words burned themselves into your mind. The script was elegant, yet dripping with an unseen malice, and you could almost feel the heat radiating from the ink. You shoved the heels back into the package with a shudder and kicked it under the bed, as if burying a corpse. But even then, you felt their presence—a weight in the shadows, watching, waiting.
With a heavy sigh, you opened the door and stepped into the night. The air was suffocating, thick like smoke, and the dim path of stones beneath your feet seemed endless, each step echoing in the oppressive silence. Your throat tightened as dread coiled around your chest, squeezing.
When you reached the door, it creaked open on its own, revealing a towering figure framed in the dim light of the room beyond. Him.
Satan stood there, his horns curving ominously upward, casting jagged shadows along the walls. He huffed, twin streams of steam spiraling from his nostrils, and his eyes—deep, crimson pits, fixed on you. For a brief moment, they softened, a flicker of something human that vanished just as quickly as it appeared. His lips curled into a sneer, revealing sharp, glinting teeth.
“Where’s the gift I sent you?” His voice was a low growl, dark and dangerous, a blade dragging against your skin.
You swallowed, your voice barely a whisper. “I… I didn’t want to wear it today.”
His expression darkened instantly, the flickering candlelight catching the glint of his sharpened horns. He rose to his full height, his wings unfurling with a menacing rustle, casting the room into deeper shadow.
“Didn’t want to?” he growled, the sound reverberating like distant thunder. “You still don’t understand obedience, do you?”
You flinched as he stalked toward you, each step deliberate, deadly. His presence swallowed the room, the air thick with the scent of sulfur and ash.
“I—” you began, but a guttural snarl cut you off, silencing you mid-breath.
“Don’t apologize,” he snapped, his tone sharp enough to slice. “A Queen does not grovel.”
Before you could react, his hand gripped your arm, pulling you forward with a force that made your knees buckle. His wings stretched wider, darkening the room into near-total blackness.
“You’re coming with me,” he hissed, his voice dripping with command. In one swift motion, he slung you over his shoulder like prey, his clawed hand digging into your side. The air rushed from your lungs, leaving you gasping, as his wings unfurled fully.
The last thing you saw before the darkness enveloped you was the smirk on his face - dangerous, triumphant, and full of promises you weren’t sure you wanted to keep.
As you hung helplessly over his shoulder, your mind raced, your senses heightened. You could only catch glimpses of the hallway as he strode through it, each step deliberate, each moment charged with a tension that sent your pulse hammering. Before you could gather yourself, he kicked open the door to his chamber and tossed you onto the bed like you weighed nothing. The cool silk sheets met your back, but the heat radiating from him burned hotter.
"It seems I’ve been far too lenient with you, my love," he growled, his voice thick with unspoken promise.
You sucked in a shaky breath, your chest rising and falling as his eyes locked onto you, piercing and relentless. He began to shed his attire, piece by piece, and the sight left you breathless. The dim light of the chamber cast sharp shadows over his chiseled form, accentuating every ridge of his muscles, the hard planes of his chest, and the tantalizing line of his V that disappeared beneath his waistband.
You couldn’t help it—your eyes trailed over him, lingering where they shouldn’t. Heat pooled in your stomach, your throat tightening as your gaze betrayed you.
A deep chuckle rumbled from him, low and sinful, snapping you back to reality. “You can’t hide it,” he teased, his head tilting slightly as his smirk deepened. “You love this body, don’t you?” His voice dropped, dipping into a growl that sent shivers down your spine and an ache lower.
Your lips parted, but no words came out—only the sound of your uneven breathing. He closed the space between you in two strides, looming over you as his hands came down on either side of your head, caging you in. The heat of his skin was unbearable, intoxicating, and his scent—smoke, leather, and something darkly sweet—wrapped around you, suffocating in the best way.
“You can lie to yourself,” he murmured, his lips hovering just above yours, “but your body tells me everything.”
Before you could respond, his lips crashed into yours, demanding, possessive, and utterly consuming. The kiss was fire—his mouth claimed yours like it was his right, his tongue sweeping past your lips with no hesitation. You gasped into him, your hands instinctively reaching up to grasp at his shoulders, your nails digging into the unyielding muscle.
He growled against your mouth, the sound vibrating through you, and tilted his head to deepen the kiss, his sharp teeth grazing your bottom lip just enough to make you whimper. His hands moved, one tangling in your hair, pulling just enough to arch your neck and expose your throat to him.
“You taste better than I remember,” he purred, his lips trailing down your jaw to your neck, where he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses that sent electric shocks coursing through you.
Your body betrayed you completely, melting under his touch as he explored, his other hand gripping your waist, pulling you flush against him. The hard lines of his body pressed against your softness, and the friction made you gasp, your nails raking down his back.
“You feel it too, don’t you?” he rasped against your skin, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot just below your ear. “The fire. The need.”
You couldn’t speak—your voice caught somewhere between a gasp and a moan as he continued his assault on your senses. His lips, his hands, his heat—they overwhelmed you, leaving you trembling beneath him.
“You’re mine,” he growled, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. His crimson eyes burned with something primal, something possessive. “And tonight, I’ll make sure you never forget it.”
His lips were on yours again, his hands roaming, and the world outside his chamber disappeared. There was only him—his heat, his touch, his overwhelming presence. And you couldn’t fight it anymore. You didn’t want to.
You couldn’t fight it anymore. You didn’t want to. The battle against his dominance had long since been lost, melted away under the heat of his touch, the fire in his eyes.
Satan crushed his lips against yours, an intoxicating mix of raw hunger and desperate possession. When he pulled away, his golden eyes were ablaze, pupils dilated, his breath ragged with desire. His grip on your waist was bruising, his claws barely holding back from tearing into your flesh. “You’re so pretty,” he murmured, voice husky, reverent yet dangerous. “Prettier than anything I’ve ever seen. Prettier than anything I will ever see.”
Before you could even register his words, he crashed his lips onto yours again, this time slower, more deliberate, as if savoring every second of it, tasting you like you were the finest delicacy meant only for him. His hands roamed, sliding down your body as he peeled away your clothes with agonizing patience. But his restraint didn’t last long. A growl rumbled deep in his chest, patience shattering, as his claws sliced away the last remnants of fabric. He wanted you bare, vulnerable—only for him.
“You’re everything I need.” His breath fanned hot against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. “Everything I will ever need.” His lips pressed against your pulse, lingering before his sharp teeth grazed the sensitive skin. His grip tightened. “I’ll never let you go.”
You winced at the weight of his words, knowing they weren’t mere whispers of passion. Satan wasn’t one to let go of what belonged to him. You knew—oh, you knew—he’d keep you by his side, whether you wanted it or not. The idea both thrilled and terrified you.
A sharp gasp tore from your lips as his claw trailed between your folds, gathering the slickness that dripped down your thighs. His breathing was heavy, ragged, as if he was barely keeping himself from devouring you whole. “So wet for me…” His voice was drenched in possessiveness, dark and heavy, as though your desire for him was the ultimate proof of his claim over you.
Before you could even process the moment, he thrust into you with no hesitation, no mercy. Your walls stretched around him, a scream-like moan escaping your lips as he buried himself deep inside you. He groaned, the sound primal, needy, and utterly possessive. His grip on your hips was unforgiving, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he pounded into you relentlessly.
“Fuck.” His voice was a low snarl, his rhythm punishing yet intoxicating. “You’re so addictive… I can’t stop… I won’t stop.”
His thrusts grew more erratic, more desperate, like a beast driven mad with need. His claws traced over your stomach, your breasts, before wrapping around your throat with just enough pressure to remind you who you belonged to. You felt him everywhere—inside, outside, consuming you, branding you with his touch, his scent, his essence. The air was thick with the sound of skin slapping against skin, your broken moans, and his guttural growls of possession.
He let out a deep, animalistic roar as he came, slamming his hips against yours, grinding into you as he filled you up. His body trembled against yours, yet even as he emptied himself inside you, his grip never loosened. You sighed, trying to push yourself away, only to be yanked back into his arms. Your heart pounded.
Confused, you looked up at him. “Wha—”
His smirk was dangerous, his golden eyes gleaming with something dark, something insatiable. “You think we’re done?” His voice was smooth, teasing, yet there was no mistaking the warning laced beneath his words.
You barely had time to catch your breath before he was moving again, thrusting back into you, ignoring your whimper of overstimulation. “I told you, my love,” he whispered against your ear, voice dripping with dark devotion. “I will never let you go.”
Hours passed, your body trembling, sore, yet he showed no sign of stopping. It had to be the tenth round, and Satan was still as hard, as relentless, as he was the first time he took you. His cock twitched inside you, filling you over and over again, stretching you to your limits. His seed dripped down your thighs, marking you, claiming you in the most primal way possible.
His growls were feral, his movements rough, desperate—like a beast in heat, like a demon obsessed. His hands roamed every inch of you, leaving scratches, bruises, evidence of his ownership. And then, without warning, he sank his fangs into your shoulder, biting down hard enough to draw blood. You gasped, back arching, pleasure and pain intertwining so exquisitely that your vision blurred.
Satan licked the wound, smirking at the sight of his mark on your skin. His fingers traced over the brand he had given you before, a symbol of his eternal claim. “Now everyone will know…” he murmured, voice soft yet laced with something possessive, something unbreakable. His lips brushed against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
“You are mine.”
____
You were exhausted. You had passed out in the middle of the act. Your body felt heavy, limbs aching in a way that was both satisfying and overwhelming. When your eyes fluttered open, you found yourself lying in a bed, the scent of fresh linens surrounding you. The bedding was new, crisp, and clean, replacing what had surely been ruined. Satan must have taken care of you. A small mercy.
You shifted slightly, only to immediately regret it. Your muscles screamed in protest, soreness pulsing through every inch of you. A soft groan escaped your lips. Despite the lingering ache, you were clean—not a trace of the mess from before. He had bathed you, dressed you, and tucked you into bed with surprising tenderness.
Your gaze flickered toward the calendar on the wall, and your heart nearly stopped. Your eyes widened in shock. Three days. Had you been asleep for three days? Or worse—had you been at it for three days straight? The thought made your stomach twist.
Determined to move, you pushed yourself up, only to be stopped by a sudden, frantic voice.
“No! My lady, please don’t move too much!” The soft yet firm tone came from the maid standing at the doorway. She rushed to your side, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder to ease you back down. “Your muscles are still very sore. You need to rest for at least two more days.”
A deep blush crept onto your cheeks. The implications of her words made you want to disappear into the sheets. You nodded meekly, and she smiled, setting down a tray on the nightstand. “If you’re tired, please rest,” she said before exiting the room, her footsteps fading into silence.
You let out a shaky breath, shifting your gaze to the nightstand. Beside your breakfast, a small pill rested on a neatly folded note.
‘For the soreness.’
You swallowed hard, picking up the medicine and popping it into your mouth before slowly eating your food. Warm, filling, comforting. A stark contrast to the brutal intensity you had endured.
As you lay back against the pillows, exhaustion creeping in once more, you realized something—
Satan had taken care of you in his own way. Even in his obsession, his need to possess you, he had ensured you were safe, comfortable, and cared for.
And somehow, that terrified you more than anything.
______
You remember that day very clearly. After eating your breakfast and lying down to rest, you received a message—Satan had left on a trip to the other rings. He would be gone for weeks.
Your head spun, nausea rising. You barely made it to the bathroom before you collapsed against the toilet, heaving violently.
Praying you were just sick.
Praying you weren’t… pregnant.
You couldn’t be.
You weren’t allowed to be—not with his.
Panic gripped your chest as you sat there, clutching your stomach, heart hammering in your ribcage. The room spun around you, but nothing felt real anymore. If this was true… if you really were carrying his child…
What would happen when he found out?
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I apologize for updating so late. I'm going through a difficult friendship breakup. I was in a very toxic friendship and finally ended it. You can imagine how hard it is right now, but it also gives me a lot of motivation for other things. I don't know if I'll post regularly, but I hope that by early March, I'll be able to post at least once a week. Thank you for the Love and Support pookies<3 sending out love💫
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signedkoko · 1 year ago
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Oo could I request romantic Vees with a reader who's this famous singer/idol in Hell? (Think, way more than Fizzarolli-level famous)
Valentino | Velvette | Vox [Romantic]
In which you are one of the most popular performance artists in all of hell. Reader is female.
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Your name was more than just 'known'; it was plastered along buildings and chanted by millions
He was always scouting for personalities, following trends in people to see who he could drag down into his vicing grip
But you were untouchable, the first thing he couldn't command to their knees before him
Even so, if Val wanted to meet you, he could, and it was extremely new to the overlord to have to go out of his way to meet someone, but he felt it was worth it
He claims it was because you had possible talent, but those closest to him know he had a bit of a celebrity crush
Valentino is not one to be nervous; he would be direct when telling you that he wanted you, again and again, until you eventually granted him at least one night out, just the two of you
Once he has his chance, he'll pull out every stop just to hear you say that you'd like to see him again
He gets so distracted with you that he forgets the part about getting you into his company, eventually brushing it off by saying you 'didn't suit what he was looking for'
Avoiding being under his contract meant he could never command you, which meant he never had anything to be angry with you about
According to him, you were a role model for all the demons he owned
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Famous stars require famous stylists, and who better than Velvette?
You'd actually reached out to her personally, since a lot of her work inspired your current stylists, and you wanted an upgrade for your tour of hell
Idol's like you were the exact thing people like Velvette dreamed of having in their portfolio, and she insisted on meeting you so she could see what you were looking for
In all her years, she'd never met an idol so genuine—most were snobbish, greedy, or just told her to 'do whatever'
You came in with photos of things you liked, hell, even fabrics you preferred, and a set list of what your songs would look like in order
She was already in love
You get her personal creations, and she insists on being the one to tailor you herself
" Only the best for the best, right? "
She can feel her bitchy attitude melt, and though she gets extremely bothered when anyone interrupts your sessions together, you ground her
It's not long before you two become official, and while she can't follow you into the deeper rings of hell, she will always be sure to watch your performances in the background while she works
She constantly calls you 'doll', because she's always dressing you up
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Influences, aristocrats, idols—none of it was new to the king of social media
Everyone contacted him for their social management, or his team, at least
He didn't do much of the personal work himself; he had far too much on his plate, but he always checked on who was requesting his services
Mostly for the ego boost, knowing the image of so many self-proclaimed "stars'' relied on him
But there was also a list of people he wanted to work for, a list that brought his ego back down and told him he hadn't met his goals yet and had to try harder
You were at the very top
He'd seen a plethora of your performances recorded and reuploaded: best takes, most underrated performances, and unforgettable sets
But he'd never had the chance to see you live until he got a PR package regarding your newest album release
Him? It was certainly interesting to...no shot, you sent him hidden tickets for 'friends only'
He is not fangirling except maybe a bit; he's already cleared his schedule that evening so he can get there and making sure his outfit is cleaned up and ready
Your performance was out of this world, and he is beyond pleased when he is invited backstage to speak with you
There you were, taking off your earrings in your dressing room, smiling at him as if you were old friends
" How was the performance? I'm so glad you came. "
For a moment, hes almost worried you have the wrong person; he seems uncertain of what to say until you continue
" I heard you are hard to win over, so I figured I'd go all out before I ask if you'd consider running my new album compaigne? "
He acts cool, but when he gets home that evening, he is pumping his fist in the air and screaming
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Author's Note - I was thinking lilith-level famous, you are THAT girl... Thank you for requesting! I went for a fem! reader because it was no specified
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theamberfist · 1 year ago
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Sink or Swim Part 2 | Stolas x Reader
Romantic! Stolas x Swim Instructor! Reader
Description: When Stolas is busy, Stella must take Octavia to her swim lessons instead; which no one is very happy about.
(Notes:) (gender neutral reader) (reader is a sinner) (reader is young Octavia's swim teacher) (Part 2 of Sink or Swim)
Words: 2,488
Read part 1 here
"We're going to be late!" Octavia called as she tugged on the taller owl's hand. "Mommy, come on!" 
Stella rolled eyes but followed after her daughter, who was practically dragging her to the pool. For the owlet's sake, she kept her frustration about the situation inside for now. After all, swim lessons had never been her idea, so it peeved her that she was now the one having to deal with them because of Stolas.
The prince would have attended in her place like usual if not for some work-related obligation that had come up. And, since the pool had a rule that required a parent to be present for all lessons, Stella had been forced to perform the responsibility in his absence until he got back. He'd promised to be as quick as possible, hoping to show up before the lesson ended, but she highly doubted that would happen. 
Finally, they reached the building and headed inside, where the imp at the front desk immediately recognized Octavia and checked them in. Stella helped her into her swim suit, thankful that the little girl was at least old enough now that she wouldn't have to get in the water with her.
Stella couldn't understand the point anyway. It wasn't as if any of them used the pool they had at the house, and she would hardly have been caught dead getting her feathers wet, anyway. She didn't know why Stolas insisted on keeping Via enrolled in her lessons these last couple years, but it seemed it was just another reason for her to hate him. 
Finally, she and Octavia made their way onto the pool deck, where the little owlet instantly recognized her swim teacher and grinned from ear to ear. She called your name and then let go of her mother's hand; taking off running for the water. 
"By all means, run." Stella mumbled sarcastically. You turned around, smiling but reminding the girl not to run. She slowed her pace but continued going over to you. 
"Good to see you again, Octavia." You smiled before pulling yourself out of the water you'd been waiting in. When you noticed Stella, rather than Stolas following behind her, a look of slight surprise appeared on your face. There was a flash of disappointment in your eyes, too, before you quickly put on a smile and took a step forward, extending your hand to her.
"Hi, I'm-" She cut you off.
"I do not care," she informed you with a wave of her hand, "Just get on with it. You're lucky we didn't skip this lesson entirely." You retracted your hand at that; smile faltering.
"Alright..." You could only assume that this must have been Stolas' wife from the way he'd described her to you before. She was even worse than you expected, but you had little time to dwell on it as Octavia gently tapped your leg. 
"Can we get in the water?" She asked excitedly, "I wanna show Mama what I can do!" Your smile returned at that and you nodded, leading her back to the side of the pool as her mother collapsed on a nearby pool chair.
Sighing, you hopped in the pool and then turned to help the little owl after you. She was even more eager than usual to be in the water, and you assumed it had to do with the excitement of a different parent having accompanied her; though you could hardly share her sentiment. 
Once she was in the pool and holding onto the side, you started her on her usual drills. Since you'd been working with Octavia since she was an infant, you were well aware of her strengths and weaknesses, as well as her favorite activities when it came to your lessons. She chatted on as you two worked, telling you about whatever came to her mind, and you felt glad she'd gotten so comfortable with you over time. 
"Daddy's working today so Mommy brought me instead," she went on to explain as you two sat on the wall doing more kick drills now. 
"I saw." You smiled down at her, trying to keep the positive energy you knew was so necessary for teaching kids. 
"But he said maybe he'll be able to come to the end of the lesson," Octavia explained, "So maybe they can both watch me then!" You grinned and then pushed yourself into the water before turning to her.
"I'm sure he'll try his best to make it." And, if you were being honest, you hoped you were right. Stolas' company at these lessons was something you thoroughly enjoyed. He would always chat with you before and afterwards, and had such insightful thoughts that you constantly looked forward to his and his daughter's weekly classes. 
Stella, on the other hand, was thoroughly uninterested in what her daughter was up to; her eyes trained on her phone as she lounged on the pool chair. Considering she'd shown up in a full gown, you assumed she didn't find herself in places like this often, and therefore, did not care what you taught Octavia so long as you left her alone.
The owlet seemed to notice this because a frown appeared on her face. When you took her in your arms and began helping her with her front glides, she called out to her mother on the deck.
"Mommy, look at me!"
Stella's eyes never left her phone. "That's nice, Via." She replied. Unfortunately for her, though, her child was smarter than she seemed to give her credit for and her frown deepened. 
"You aren't looking!" She exclaimed sadly as you reminded her to kick her legs. Stella rolled her eyes before glancing up for a second and then returning to her phone. 
"You're doing great." She said dismissively. Octavia looked a little sad so you quickly stepped in to cover.
"She's right; you're doing great," you told the girl with a reassuring smile, "Can you look down at the bottom of the pool? See if there are any runaway fish down there I need to catch." Octavia giggled at that but obliged anyway and put her face down in the water to check for said fish. 
After a moment, she looked back up with a bright smile. "No fish!" She exclaimed happily and you smiled back at her.
"None? Are you sure?" You asked cheerfully and she looked down again for good measure. Finally, she raised her head again. 
"No fish!" You giggled and she did the same as you finally brought her into the wall. 
"Well, thank you for checking!" You told her, "I'm glad we don't have any loose fish today." You placed her on the wall again where she checked to see if Stella had bene watching.
As expected, she hadn't. Octavia's smile immediately dropped and she turned back to you with a sad expression. Feeling pressure to keep her happy, you quickly spoke up. "How about we work on your back float again, hmm?" You suggested. She nodded slowly before letting you support her back and leaning into your hold. 
"Lay back like you're sleeping in bed," you reminded her, "and look to see if any fish are in the sky!"
"The sky?" She asked through giggles and you nodded.
"Yep! Sometimes they like to swim around up there. Watch out for Craig specifically; he'll try to splash you." Octavia laughed before bringing her head up to look at Stella again. You couldn't help but feel bad for the girl's neglect by her mother; wishing Stolas would come back to encourage her like he always did. It was so important that kids be told how proud their parents were of them; you knew that. 
"Mommy, look at me!" She called again and your heart squeezed. Stella glanced up again.
"Great, sweetie." She replied nonchalantly. This seemed to finally be enough to upset the owlet, though, because she didn't take it for an answer. 
"You aren't looking!"
"Yes I am!" Stella shouted back, angry herself now. 
"No you aren't!" Octavia replied, crossing her arms as she continued to float on her back with your support. "You're not close enough to see!" Stella rolled her eyes again but stood from her pool chair now and put her arms out as if to say 'see?' 
"Better?" She asked in a frustrated tone.
"No!" Octavia called back, "You aren't close enough!" Grumbling, Stella took a few steps closer to the pool. Before she could even ask, though, Octavia was already calling to her. "You're not close enough, Mama!" She exclaimed through slightly teary eyes that made your heart clench, "I want you to see!"
Nearly fuming now, Stella came even closer to the pool so that her feet were right by the edge now. "There, am I close enough for you n-" She couldn't even finish her sentence, though, because as she was walking towards the edge, she slipped on some water and fell back. Her back smacked into the concrete of the pool deck and then the rest of her body slid into the water. 
It was at this moment when you realized Octavia's mother likely did not know how to swim. She flailed about in the water, which was a little deeper than where you currently stood holding the owlet, and seemed to panic as the weight of her huge dress pulled her down. 
To make matters worse, the lifeguard that was currently supposed to be watching the pool while you taught your lesson was hardly paying attention. Even when you called his name, he hardly batted an eye. Sighing, you replaced Octavia so that she comfortably rested in your left arm now; the way a parent might carry their toddler around.
There was no time to put her safely on the deck if you wanted to save her mother, and it wasn't as if you could leave the girl in the water by herself yet when she had only ever ran assisted drills up to this point. So, you were left with no choice by to swim through the water and towards Stella with the little girl in your arm. 
"Mommy!" The owlet called in fear as you finally made your way over to her mother. Stella was still flailing about in the water, which was a good thing at least, since it meant she hadn't yet lost consciousness. 
Amidst all the commotion, you didn't even notice that another owl now entered the scene, coming onto the pool deck with a bright smile that immediately disappeared when he saw what was going on. Unsure what to do, he rushed over to the deck near where you and his family were, but he worried he might not reach your group in time to help. 
Finally, you reached Stella and grabbed her by the waist with your free arm, dragging her up to the surface as she continued to flail. She smacked you in the face multiple times but you didn't waver; keeping Octavia away from the path of her arms and making sure both their heads stayed above the water. 
The lifeguard finally seemed to have noticed what was going on now, because he stood from his chair as if to help, but you just glared at him; having already done most of his job in this situation. 
You reached the pool deck now, where you let go of Octavia as soon as she was holding onto the wall. Stolas reached you too, immediately taking her into his arms and out of the water as he asked if she was alright. 
You turned your attention to the still-panicking Stella now; making sure she was still breathing as you helped her to sit on the poolside. The lifeguard had grabbed a first aid kit and was coming over to you four now as you looked her over. Luckily, she seemed relatively unharmed, aside from the scare. 
"Are you alright?" You asked, "You didn't hit your head when you fell, did you?" Now that she was on dry land, the owl's glare returned as she stared you down.
"No," she replied, crossing her arms, "But my dress is completely ruined! This is all your fault; you filthy sinner!" With that, she stood up from the side of the pool and stomped away, ignoring the lifeguard that tried to offer her medical attention as she passed. 
"Mama, where are you going?" Octavia called from her father's arms. Stella didn't pause.
"To get a new dress tailored!" Stella called back, glancing at you again, "And I'll be billing you for it!" Finally, she stormed through the locker rooms and out of the building as you shuddered. The lifeguard gave you a look that asked if you were okay but you just nodded and waved him off; pulling yourself out of the water. 
"I think that'll be it for our lesson today," you sighed, turning to Stolas, "I'm so sorry about that." Before he could reply, the owlet in his arms shook her head.
"It wasn't your fault; Mama fell!" She exclaimed as your expression softened. She turned back to her father now. "She needs swim lessons too." He smiled.
"I don't think your mother will be going anywhere near the water after that." He admitted and then looked to you. "But I am sure you had nothing to do with it. Stella can be quite...Easily angered." If he were being completely honest, he couldn't help but wish she hadn't been saved, but he knew you would never let that happen. "And, of course, I will not allow her to take any legal action against you; that includes her clothing expenses." You grinned.
"Thank you, Stolas." You said softly, grabbing your towel from one of the nearby pool chairs and wrapping it around yourself. "If you want to reschedule your next lessons with someone else, I understand." You would have expected him to do so, actually, but he quickly shook his head.
"No need!" He exclaimed a little too hurriedly, "Via enjoys working with you so much and I wouldn't want to uproot her over something like this!" Luckily, the little girl in his arms nodded in agreement, effectively covering for him. You smiled back.
"If that's what you want."
"It is." Stolas assured you with a grin, "It really is." There was a brief moment of silence between you both as you gazed into one another's eyes, and then the prince finally remembered where he was and what was going on as he composed himself by clearing his throat. 
"A-anyway," he spoke, "Thank you for saving my...wife." Your heart clenched at the word but you nodded.
"Of course." Then, you turned to Octavia, who was still in her father's arms. "I'll see you next week!" You told her, "Then you can show your dad how much progress we made today." She grinned and nodded excitedly.
"Yeah!"
With that, you bid them both farewell and watched as Stolas carried his daughter out of the pool building. Somehow, as he left, it felt as if a part of your heart went with him. 
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