#I have so many thoughts on this silly ass game I thought was fake oops

[didsomeonesayventus]

I should probably also transcribe my ramblings on engage because the utter CHOKEHOLD this game has on me the fuck

[onemistresstorulethemall]

There is darkness in the light

This is nsfw, as well as 99% of my blog, oops

Ship: Mammon x F!Reader

Word count: 1859

“Oh, don’t tell me you got cold feet now. It was just getting interesting.”, you faked some sweetness into your tone, “Don’t fold now. Let’s raise. Indulge me.”, you shifted your legs, changing which was on top of which, moving them a little too slow, catching the attention of a few hungry demons, “Unless, of course, you’re scared of losing to a human…”

Your last line sparked something in the demon you were facing. He seemed offended. Good, you thought, that was the point. You needed him to play right into your trap.

“As if you could scare me.”, he snapped back, “Sure. I’ll humour you.”, he pushed a few more chips in the centre of the table.

Turning towards one of his friends, who already folded, he stated with a big smirk on his face:

“Bet she’d be set for life if she won my pocket money.”

His friend chuckled at the remark, but his eyes didn’t follow. You had beat him enough times for him to know better, but you’ve yet to destroy every crumb of pride, so he still kept up a confident façade. However, it meant little to you. All that counted in that moment was to win.

“So, what have you got, little one?”, the demon mocked you.

Your eyes burned through him and fell onto your date for the night. The second born was eyeing you from the bar, flashing a cheeky smile and raising his glass in your honour. Mammon knew you’d win this round. You both knew, actually. His pact mark burned in a particular way that let you know you were lucky. It came in handy at times like this or times when you had to guess answers to a RAD exam you didn’t study for.

“Please, do the honours.”, your attention shifted to the demon in front of you.

A pair of kings. Not bad, but not good either. At least, not good enough. However, you were here to have fun, so you faked defeat.

“My…That’s a good hand.”, you bit your lip and frowned.

At that point in time, a bunch of demons gathered around your table, waiting to see the results. Funny enough, demons made bets on who would win.

“Wish you backed away when you could, huh?”, your opponent lit up a cigarette.

“I…”, you looked down before revealing your cards, “I could ask you the same question.”, you glued your gaze to his as a huge grin spread across your face.

Three aces. You won.

“Motherfucker…”, he hissed while exhaling the smoke.

While you pulled the chips towards you the demons gathered around you loudly expressed their emotions. Some cursed, some cheered, but it mattered little to you.

Your opponent felt a tap on the shoulder. A woman handed him a glass of demonus and ruffled his hair.

“Lost to Mammon’s girl again?”, she laughed, “You should’ve known better.”

Happy with your earnings for the night, you left the table and headed towards the bar. When close enough to Mammon, your hands found their way around his neck. You leaned in close, your lips almost touching, breathing heavily, tension thick enough you could cut it with a knife.

“Tell me…”, you bit your lip, “Did you manage?”, your eyes full of desire.

“Yeah, baby, let’s get outta here.”, his smirk made your knees weak.

After you cashed in your gains, both of you got into Mammon’s car and the moment the door closed, you started laughing, no longer being able to contain it.

“Fucking hell, I can’t believe how dumb they are!”

You turned around to face the blue-eyed demon and cupped his cheeks, pulling him in to kiss him forcefully. Your hands knew no boundaries and travelled across his entire body, sneaking under clothes to feel his warm skin, grabbing with unsatiated hunger while your nails dug into his soft flesh. He was far from shy as well, high on the smell of money and one too many glasses of demonus. One of his hands rested on the back of your head, tangled into your hair a bit too tight, as if to make sure you weren’t going anywhere, while the other curiously explored your body, travelling from your waist to your ass and your thighs, making its way under your dress.

When you broke off the kiss, a strig of saliva still connected your mouths. Panting, you smirked and dragged your nails across his ribs.

“Let’s get out of here.”, you suggested.

“You wanna go home already?”, he seemed confused.

“No, silly. Let’s get a hotel room, see how much we made.”

Mammon seemed to like the idea, speeding up after planting a kiss on your lips one last time.

It was overwhelming. The cold wind blowing your hair around from the parted window, Mammon’s hand on your thigh occasionally squeezing and the thrill of accomplishing your plan.

Soon enough you got pulled up to a hotel and rushed into the room, unbearable to wait a second longer. You threw your heels on the floor quickly and opened up your purse to let a wave of grimm flow onto the bed.

Grinning, you turned to face Mammon who pulled around six wallets, three watches and a few pieces of jewellery from his pockets.

“Fuck, I can’t believe this worked…”, you finally broke the spell.

“Oh, of course it worked. You put on quite a nice show, princess. With your plan and my skills, it couldn’t go any other way.”

He emptied the contents of the wallets onto the bed.

It was your idea, actually. Mammon played first. You made quite a scene after he lost all his money and demanded that he backs off for the night. Instead, you asked he let you play a few games before you leave. He complied. You tried your best to make the matches entertaining and attract as much attention as you could. When people gathered around, Mammon used the opening to empty their pockets. It was all premeditated and you couldn’t believe you actually pulled it off.

“Do ya wanna count them?”, he asked.

As a response, you pushed him onto the grimm-filled bed and began to kiss his neck.

“Fuck…”, he hissed in surprise.

You loved being on top, having control over him, making him squirm under you and enjoying his every reaction. However, tonight, you wanted him to completely take over you. All you needed to do was to bring him to his breaking point.

Without hesitation, you reached for his jeans, unbuttoning them pulling them off along with his boxers.

“Shit, someone’s eager.”

“Mmm, you bet I am.”

You began to sloppily lick along his shaft, making sure it’s nice and wet before taking all of his length down your throat in one go.

“F-fuck, gimmie a warning first.”

You raised your head, drool dripping from your mouth, and looked into his ocean eyes.

“Gotta serve my king well, right?”

After a quick smile, you resumed to pleasuring your favourite demon. This time, slower, rolling your tongue around his tip and using a hand to stroke the rest.

“Shit…”, he breathed out, “You’re perfect.”

His hand found its way into your hair, pushing and pulling, controlling the pace. At this point it was less of a blowjob and more of a facefuck. Drool kept dripping from your lips and filled the room of wet, sloppy sounds. You couldn’t help but moan as he used your mouth. Mammon’s free hand bunched up the sheets and along with it a bunch of bills. That was probably the last drop for him cause he pulled onto your hair and freed your mouth. As if you weighted nothing, he switched the positions, pulling you under him before beginning to undress you. Your dress hit the floor and so did your panties.

His eyes were full of desire as he grabbed your waist and pulled you into a kiss. In the process, a bunch of grimm ended up on your stomach. When Mammon broke the kiss and leaned back his cock twitched when faced with the view.

Between your legs, his hand began to play with your wet folds, making you arch your back.

“You’re my most prized possession. Fuck, it’s like you were made for me…”

His fingers entered you, moving inside, hitting just the right spots. Your hips gained a mind of their own and moved without you even thinking about it.

“Doncha think so, y/n? That ya belong to me…”

His lips fell onto your neck before you even had a chance to reply. His teeth sank into your flesh, marking you as his own in yet another way.

When his thumb traced circles on your clit, a cry escaped your lips and you knew you reached your breaking point.

“Mammon if you don’t fuck me right this second…”

“You’ll what? Whine?”

“Fuck, please…”

Without another exchange, he flipped you around, turning you on your stomach before aligning himself to your entrance.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, y/n”

That was the last thing you heard before your head was pushed into a pile of grimm while his cock slowly entered you.

“Don’t fucking be gentle!”, you warned him, “Be as rough as you can.”

“You’ll break”, he chuckled.

“Good.”

He grabbed your hands by the wrist and pinned them to your back, so you had no choice but to sit there and take it. Mammon’s movements became rougher and faster while your moans became louder.

“You’re taking me so well, fuck…”

You weren’t half as coherent. You could only alternate between “Mammon” and “Fuck”. His free hand reached between your legs and rubbed against your clit in an attempt to relive all the built up tension. Your legs started to shake and your walls spasmed around his cock as you came undone. The demon did not slow down at all. Instead, his grip on your wrists became tighter and his thrusts deeper, chasing his own release. Soon enough, he spilled inside of you with a loud groan before falling onto his back next to you.

Still in a daze, you were a bit shocked when Mammon pulled you into an embrace and kissed the top of your head.

“Ya know… With your cash, there must be like a hundred thousand grimm here.”, he turned to face you, “How about we clean up and spend them all?”

Tomorrow you were bound to get back to the house of lamentation at some point. You’d have to do your homework, cook dinner as it was your turn and help Lucifer with a few documents. Basically, you had to take care of your responsibilities and be a good girl. So, of course, you nodded. Mammon was going to spend all the money regardless, so you took the chance to go wild and he was the only one you could go wild with. Your first demon, in every sense of the word. The only one who knew about the darkness in your soul and cherished it. He was both your chaos and your anchor. Your temptation and your guardian. Your sin and your virtue. He was yours, your Mammon.

[imnotwolverine]

Nerdflirt

Henry Cavill x reader twoshot (1/2)

Word count: 2.768

Disclaimer: tiny, tiny hint of fluff

Summary: There’s apparently a bit more involved than just paint and innocent flirting, when you meet a stranger on Instagram with a shared hobby. 

Find the second part here.

This story is based on a prompt I received from @aestheticqueenb

(Link to my Masterlist)

‘Maybe, you can like…I don’t know…find some new hobby or something?’

Your friend had said it more as an after thought during your Zoom chat, but here you were. Thinking yet again if she was perhaps right. A new hobby. It’s not like you hadn’t tried to find some diversion in these strange times. Like. You had ordered some of these picture paint books for adults since they were all the rage, but you had grown bored of them again.

Heck. You had even asked your boss if you could help him out while stuck at home. But apparently the restaurant business was really on its ass and you’d just have to wait for things to settle down and regulations to become less restricting.

This whole COVID-19 thing had initially seemed like a bit of a fad. Like some sick joke that nobody stopped at the right time. It was just a fever, right? Well, apparently…it wasn’t. You could still remember the moment all too well when you were sent home, told to wait for news. Hours passed. Days passed. Weeks passed. But there was no sign of things soon to improve.

And thus you resorted to adult colouring books and sulking away on your desk chair.

Stretching out you pushed the chair away from your desk, the tiny wheels immediately halting as you bumped against your bed. Oh yes, it was also good to mention you were slowly losing your mind because your studio apartment was SOO friggin’ small you couldn’t stretch as much as a foot without bumping into a piece of furniture.

Not a problem when you have a social life. But very much a problem when you hadn’t. Usually you worked a lot, went out with friends, enjoyed to go for a run. And home? Home was just a conveniently placed bed in the middle of London.

Now, however, it was a constricting prison that seemed to strip away your sanity piece by piece.

As had become second nature by now you opened your phone, fingers automatically refreshing the front news page. Scroll, scroll, scroll. No new news. Then your e-mail. No new e-mails. Then perhaps look for some “inspiration” - whatever you needed that for - on Pinterest? Scroll, scroll, scroll. Okay, no, this is dumb. Going back to the mainscreen your thumb hovered over the Instagram button. 

You honestly didn’t like the app much. Fake people. Fake fun lives. It just wasn’t your cuppa tea. And yet you never got so far as deleting it since you did enjoy seeing baby pictures of your baby niece.

Okay, fine, maybe there were some new pictures or something. It wasn’t like you had anything better to do and so you opened the app, only to be confronted with a somewhat confusing image. What’s this? A large pair of hands painting an absolutely tiny polystyrene figurine. Why is this on your timeline? Your eyes gazed up, even more confused when you read the name “Henry Cavill” above it. Pfft. Probably some attention whoring from another bored superstar. You shook your head and scrolled on, eventually giving up again.

You groaned, feeling the abyss of utter boredom suck you in once more, your eyes wandering to the world outside. It was sunny, a spotless blue sky, not a cloud in sight. Hilarious, ain’t it? It’s nice weather out in the UK and guess what? You’re stuck inside because the whole world is in lockdown.

So…now what? You just had lunch, your apartment was pristinely clean and you already went for a run this morning. You sighed and turned your chair back so you could awaken your trusty old friend again. Your laptop. Perhaps Google something random? See what you find? The internet’s your friend, right?

Open. Google. 

You bit your lip, thinking of something. Anything. But your mind was a blank.

Hmm. Oh. You know what. Maybe it’d be fun to know what kind of fake nerd Henry Cavill actually was.

You opened Instagram again and, of course, his post was back on the top of the timeline. It was almost too easy. #GamesWorkshop #ProperGeek #Custodes. Hmm, probably one of those three tags were the secret. You decided to enter “custodes”, since it sounded the least familiar and hit enter.

Before long you had dived head first into the miraculous world of Warhammer miniature strategy boardgaming and the most ludicrous, but fascinating lore. There was a medieval variant, a sci-fi variant and some ancient Rome and English civil war stuff. All including a well-thought out background story and even more figurines then you could count. Pretty cool figures too, you thought, haphazardly clicking on “order” while scrolling through one of the webshops.

Like it contained some kind of bomb, the mailman sprinted off, leaving the small package behind while you opened your door. Fuck this corona crisis. You couldn’t even..greet the fucking mailman.

Picking up the package you carefully moved it to your desk. Would they be fragile? How tiny could tiny really be? There was only one way to find out, you decided, picking up a pair of scissors and cutting open the small brown box.

Well. Okay. That’s tiny. Tiny tiny tiny. Perhaps you had been a bit too over enthusiastic about just randomly picking up a new hobby. Like..did you even need like special paint for this? Carefully you placed the kit sheets with the hundreds of tiny pieces in them on your desk and bit your lip, deciding what you’d do next. Tiny heads, guns, wings, all stuck in a meticulously thought out grid. Where to start? Perhaps look for some inspiration? Tips and tricks?

The internet is your friend.

Silly as it was you ended up scrolling through Instagram again, this time on the profile of some “SirEltharin” who posted daily updates on his miniature painting. And just like you, he had bought the Retributor Squad from the Adepta Sororitas, the all-female fighter division that were also known as “The Sisters of Battle”. Just thinking how ridiculous that sounded made you chuckle. Were you a nerd too now? Perhaps.

He just posted something new you noticed.

‘These ladies are hard to tame! Oops, painting accident..’ He posted, along with a picture of some smudged paint on one of the figurines. You chuckled, commenting without much of a second thought.

LadyGrim - ‘Well at least you started..I just can’t get myself to paint :X’ - 1 minute ago SirEltharin - ‘No need to be Grim, good Lady. What’s keeping you from starting?’ - 2 seconds ago

Hmm. He responded immediately. A smile reached the corners of your lips as you shrugged and typed again.

LadyGrim - ‘Painters limbo? No honestly it’s my first set and I’m out of my depth here.’ - 2 minutes ago

SirEltharin - ‘Well if large male hands can do it. Surely a Lady can do it too? ;)’ - 30 seconds ago

LadyGrim - ‘Size can be deceiving.’ - 2 seconds ago

Your eyes rested on the screen for a bit, hoping he’d respond, but eventually giving up. Your eyes turned towards the sheets with the figurine parts on the other side of your desk.

Welp, it’s not like anyone could judge you for trying, right?

You painted that whole day, finding it nerve wrecking and meditative all at the same time. You hadn’t even noticed that it was past dinner time, until your stomach really started to growl with hunger.

After cooking yourself a simple pasta dish you sat back on your desk chair, forking the pasta into your mouth while opening your phone to check on any news updates. No news. Mail. No mail. Pinterest? Skip. Instagram. Heck, why not.

*New message from SirEltharin* Hmm. A private message. You didn’t even know that you could send private messages in Instagram, but alas, perhaps you were just a failed millennial.

SirEltharin - ‘Hey :) Guess what? I totally screwed up that figurine and have to do it all over again. Started any painting yet?’ - 2 hours ago

LadyGrim - ‘Perhaps you gave me all your good luck? Just started and..maybe..it actually starts to look pretty cool?’ - 2 minutes ago

SirEltharin - ‘Which one did you start with?’ - 2 seconds ago

Damn, guess it wasn’t just you who was bored to bits. This guy was one fast responder.

LadyGrim - ‘The one with the book? At least, I think…. So many parts..’

SirEltharin - ‘Yea. Requires a bit of strategising hehe. Besides..holy fervour and good faith!’

LadyGrim - ‘So why did you chose the sisters? You’re a guy right?’

SirEltharin - ‘And that’s a problem? ;)’

LadyGrim - ‘No..’

SirEltharin - ‘Honestly though. They’re cool. Strong women.’

LadyGrim - ‘Who got betrayed by the man they promised to serve.’

SirEltharin - ‘Ah you read the lore? Yea..men are dicks haha ;)’

LadyGrim - ‘Can’t agree more.’

You back and forthed throughout the evening. Starting off with some Warhammer 40k related banter, but soon drifting off to talking about the Corona lockdown and the boredom that came with it. SirEltharin didn’t let off a whole lot about himself, which made your imagination run a little wild.

Perhaps it was this “milady” type of guy, that’d tip his hat at you, then grow annoyed as soon as you didn’t immediately fall in love with him. Or, maybe it was this skinny pimple-faced guy who only ever played female characters in games. Or a really, really fat guy. He did say large male hands. Large…could be fat? Or at least chubby? Ugh. What did it matter anyways. Men, you had decided, were always going to disappoint.

SirEltharin - ‘Hey, just curious by the way. Why did YOU decide to start painting?’

LadyGrim - ‘Are you asking just because I’m a girl? ;)’

SirEltharin - ‘Hardly. What do you even think of me?! ;)’

LadyGrim - ‘Okay. Don’t call me an idiot. But this movie star, Henry Cavill? He posted an image and though I absolutely think he’s one of those fake nerd celebrities who are in it for the attention, it did get me interested in the figurines..so..I just ordered and..here I am!’

He stopped responding after that. For the rest of the night. Did you say something wrong or did he just not see your message? Ah..whatever. It didn’t really matter. He was just some stranger on the internet. You started Netflix and crawled onto your bed, wasting away another evening bingewatching How I Met Your Mother.  

The next morning he had responded again. Around 5 am. Damn. Nerds ARE night owls, you thought, sipping your freshly brewn cup of french pressed coffee while leaning against your tiny kitchen block.

SirEltharin - ‘Can’t really say that without knowing him, right?’ - 3 hours ago

SirEltharin - ‘Anything in particular wrong with Henry Cavill?’ - 2 hours ago

LadyGrim - ‘Woa woa. No harm meant. Sorry. Guess I just don’t trust ‘em pretty boys?’ - 3 minutes ago

SirEltharin - ‘How’s that so? And good morning, Lady ;)’ - 2 seconds ago

You bit your lip and let out a deep sigh. Oh this man didn’t know what hellfire could come his way, opening THAT topic.

LadyGrim - ‘Good morning ..and..I doubt you’d be interested.’

SirEltharin - ‘You had my curiosity, but now you have my attention.’

LadyGrim - ‘Fine. Let’s just keep it plain and simple. Lied to, cheated on and continuously disappointed. Guess I’ll just have to become a lesbian?’

SirEltharin - ‘Don’t let a few bad ones ruin it for the rest of us. Has it been long?’

LadyGrim - ‘Long?’

SirEltharin - ‘Apologies. I mean. Since you last dated?’

LadyGrim - ‘A year or so.’

SirEltharin - ‘And how old are you? Or am I being too bold asking such a thing?’

LadyGrim - ‘It’s fine. Thirty. Had my birthday two weeks ago. So yea..becoming a bit of an old spinster hehe.’

SirEltharin - ‘Belated happy birthday and..hardly a spinster, right? I mean. I’m 37 and haven’t found anyone yet. Heck. I guess I’m the old spinster here haha.’

LadyGrim - ‘I doubt the same rules apply for men.’

SirEltharin - ‘Trust me. We are all judged.’

Weeks passed and you and Sir kinda started to really get to know each other. You both lived in London - how practical -, were pretty enthused about sports, liked dogs (he had one, you wished you had one) and were close knit with your family. You with your sister, who already had a few kids. And he with his brothers. All with kids. Teasingly you donned each other the nicknames ‘Uncle and Aunty Spinster’.

You knew he had looked on your account. Seen some pictures of you. Even made a few comments on them and liked everything new you posted. But he, SirEltharin, remained mostly a mystery. You tried to talk yourself out of your curiosity, but couldn’t help but lay in bed fantasising about him. The only body part you had seen of him to this point were his hands, and they were actually quite pretty hands. Well manicured nails, strong fingers. It meant he probably wasn’t SUPER fat. So. That’s something.

Eventually the COVID-19 related regulations were becoming less restrictive and for the first time in months you could go back to work. The very news had made you both reluctant - you liked this new rhythm of painting and chatting with SirEltharin -, but also happy. Finally getting out of your tiny apartment, finally getting back to work. It may require some getting used to again, but this was just what you really needed.

In your enthusiasm you posted a picture on Instagram of your work outfit as it lay neatly spread out on your bed sheets. Your boss had made some quirky shirts to celebrate the reopening of the restaurant: “Brunello’s back” was written in fancy white lettering on the back of the shirt. You giggled as SirEltharin liked it within a split second.

SirEltharin - ‘Back to work hmm?’

LadyGrim - ‘Yep. Its all fun and games until the rat race starts again.’

SirEltharin - ‘Sounds Grim ;)’

LadyGrim - ‘You know me too well Sir. Anyways gotta go. Bye!’

SirEltharin - ‘See ya.’

See ya. You always thought it weird when strangers said that at the end of an online chat. Clients sometimes said it at the end of a phone reservation. That was understandable though; they were to come to the restaurant. But complete strangers? There was no such thing as “seeing you around”. However in the case of SirEltharin you were willing to let it slip. He probably didn’t think anything of it.

For a first night it was already quite hectic at Brunello’s. The room, although still far less bustling than usual, was filled. People were obviously eager to pick up their social lives again, the animated chatter of guests zooming around the room while you paced past the neatly spaced white clothed tables. Brunello’s was a rather luxurious restaurant and mostly businessmen and well-to-do families and friends came here to wine and dine. Tonight was special though, as a few celebrities were sitting in the far corner. Including a familiar face: Mr. Cavill, your eyes immediately falling on him as he seemingly was giving you a questioning look.

Perhaps he just wanted to order some drinks, you thought, halting next to the table and offering them your most kind, professional smile - ignoring the curious pair of blue eyes that tracked your every move.

‘Good evening and welcome to Brunello’s. Is there anything I can help you with?’ You spoke, the sentence fluently tipping of your tongue, your eyes wandering slowly over the guests. Most of them were unfamiliar to you. And Mr. Cavill..you tried to just not give him any attention as he was still burning his eyes into you.

‘We actually could use some advice on the wine. We’d like to start white, slightly fruity, perhaps French? Though the Italian one also sounds quite nice.’ A small blonde woman spoke, peering over her menu card.

As this was not your expertise, you called for the sommelier, stepping back to make room for him. And all the while you felt those eyes, gazing at you, almost brazenly. What was up with this Mr. Cavill? Or did you maybe have something funny on your face and did nobody dare to tell you? Shyly you excused yourself, leaving the guests in the capable hands of the sommelier, and quickly made for the women’s bathroom to check your face. 

There was nothing out of sort when you looked into the mirror. Strange. 

Peeking quickly on your phone, a habit when you were alone, you noticed a new message popping up on your Insta-chat.

SirEltharin - ‘I think we need to talk.’ - 30 seconds ago

--

Go to part 2