#Why don't you just go to Hell and work for the Devil?!

[corey-45]

I wonder how many people only know about Chuck Mangione from King of the Hill.

The Chuck Mangione Window Display at Fairfax and Rosewood

[hauntingblue]

21st century "et tu, brute" moment

[dilf-docs]

To The Devil I Know

bfd!joel miller x younger!reader

summary: your infamous girl's trip with your best friend sarah gets crashed by his overprotective dad.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., fingering, oral (m. and f. receiving), brat taming, it's pussy spanking time again bc i do in fact like it a lot, praise/daddy kink sprinkled somewhere, reader calls him mr. miller A LOT, exhibition kink (v nasty), degradation kink (he calls her little slut), pantie sniffing, dirty talk (they have a sentence awaiting in horny jail), y/n grinds on joel's nose bc yeah i too want that, this is contradicting but lwk sub!joel bc that man's touch starved as HELL, may do a part two idk pls give it love, dad!bod joel bc i say so (yummy), no angst (wtf dilf-docs? the angst gods are so pissed off rn)

word count: 7,195 words

side note: this request got me HOOKED the moment i opened it and since i'm currently on a pedro hyperfixiation rn, we need to put the mental illness to good use. also, this is lwk based on the song by suki waterhouse devil i know! :) i'm seeing that i have two joel fics with devil in the title btw something something abt nickels and not being a lot but weird it happened twice also WE HIT 300 FOLLOWERS??? (and its 1am and i have to wake up at 4am is anyone surprised atp...)

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"Sarah!" you shout, "get your ass out here you looser!"

It's probably eight in the morning, and here you are, honking and shouting in the middle of the quiet calm suburbs.

When you spot her curly head running towards you in a rush, you know she's pissed.

"Stop screaming!" she shouts back, "my neighbours will hate me"

You've known Sarah since you were kids. When you first moved to Texas, she was the only one who spoke to you in school. You grew up with her among white picket fences and scrapped knees, mantaining the friendship even as you moved away, until your return for college.

"Why would I even care? I don't live here!" you joke from the driver's seat, hopping off and giving her a hug. "I'm sorry but I can't help it. I'm just so excited for this trip, we've been planning it for ages!"

You keep talking excitedly about your plans, not noticing how her face falls.

"Yeah, about that..."

"You girls ready?" a third voice enters the picture, definitely not belonging to a girl.

"Uh, Sarah" you breath in, "Why the fuck is your dad here?"

In all his glory: Joel Miller, a guy you haven't seen in forever, too busy living in the dorms, girl dates with Sarah often out of her house. You wanted to explore the world: you weren't ten anymore, and the suburbs lost all of it's appeal they had when you were the age of Barbies and drawing on chalk.

"Listen, y/n. I tried, I really tried. But as soon as I opened my mouth, he started to pack his bags"

"Isn't your dad always busy at work?" you inquire, another one of the reasons Joel's face isn't a fresh memory in your head.

"That's part of the problem. He took all of the pending vacations he had at once" she sighs, sounding as dissapointed as you are. "I understand if you don't want to go"

"Are you being serious right now?" you chuckle dryly. "No, absolutely not. I saved for this trip, packed my favorite outfits and aced all my classes so my parents would allow me. Nothing is going to ruin this for me: not you, not your dad. So we'll go and we'll have all the fun we planned, yeah?" you express firmly, holding her hands. "We will have our girl summer, no matter what. Even if we have to ignore the elephant in the room..."

"Did you just call me fat?"

You turn around, and there he is: the uninvited. Joel Miller's aged face stands before you, strong arms flexing under the pressure of a couple of suitcases.

"No" you reply back, "just a nuissance"

He chuckles at your response, amused. "If you thought I'd let my babygirl go alone with you to the beach and get shit-faced drunk, you're not as smart as I remember, y/n"

Your name would always be on his tongue to call you out. Y/n, don't do that. Y/n apologize to the neighbours. Y/n, slow down. Y/n, don't be so stubborn. You were always a troublemaker, and his lips would only know how to pronounce your name if to berate you. But now, as his mouth says your name with a newly learned tone, dripping with dare and amusement, you can't help but feel a fire ignite that burns your skin.

"Dad!" Sarah calls out, taking you out of your thoughts. She flushes in embarrasment, and you scoff at the idea of giving too much of your time to think about Mr. Miller of all people. "I'm not ten anymore, we'll be just fine"

"You're barely of legal age!" he counters back. "What if somethin' was to happen to you, huh? I'd never forgive myself"

You get annoyed at his over-the-top reactions. What did he think you were gonna do? The wildest thing you had in mind was getting drunk while sitting in the sand. Not even in the water! You may be a wild spirit, but stupid you're not.

"Look, Mr. Miller" he cocks his head to the side, daringly so, almost as if waiting for you to try. "I don't know what you're thinking, but this isn't Driveway Dolls" he looks at you confused, so you try again, "Or Thelma and Louise, whatever suits your fucking old ass. Alright? This is a girls trip, heard that? Just two bestfriends enjoying their youth and summer without boys around to ruin it for them"

"Boys?" he laughs. "Too bad, then, 'cause sweetheart, I'm a man"

Your breath hitches, but you're not going to let him win; you always need to have the last word.

"Well, man up and let your daughter be free for once!"

Sarah covers her face with her palms, clearly knowing her dad more. This is a lost battle.

"Stop, y/n. Please. Dad's impossible to bend"

"He's ruining our trip!" you protest, feeling like a child throwing a tantrum.

"Take it or leave it" he leans against his truck, crossing his arms. Your eyes dart to the strained fabric of his sleeves, and when he chuckles, you don't know if he noticed or it's because of his imminent victory.

"Fine!" you throw your hands in the air, dramatically so. "Welcome on board, intruder"

Joel Miller smiles, and maybe it's the rare sight, not even common back in the day, that makes your heart skip a beat.

"And we're taking my truck"

"Are you being serious right now?!" Was this man going to take away all your freedom?

He laughs, mockingly. Rage bubbles in your chest, along something darker you aren't going to admit just yet.

"There is no way my daughter is going on a fucking hatchback to the beach"

You try to distract yourself talking to Sarah in the backseat, but her dad's prying glances time to time from the rear view mirror have you shifting uncomfortably on your seat.

He's persistent, always has been. Joel Miller, just as Sarah said, wasn't a man who could be bent. You'd remember thinking he was a sort of superhero: unbreakable. Whenever Sarah needed help, a pair of strong arms would be there, ready to take the weight off of her shoulders. He was now older, as you have noticed: grey and wrinkles sprayed all over his face. And now, the worst part of it all:

Age had made him infuriatingly attractive.

Unfair, you think, that a man so bitter that only seemed to worry and nag, was blessed with the rare quality of aging like wine. You can deny it anymore: whatever Joel Miller has now that he didn't before is working on you like a lovesick spell.

You look again to the front, just in time to catch one of his subtle (not really) stares. You keep the eye contact, only he tears away his gaze first, something akin to regret and fear circling on his warm brown orbs. The fire from before cracks inside of your belly, and the anticipation begins.

If he was going to ruin your trip, you might as well return the favor.

"M' gonna stop for gas" he says after some minutes of silence, deviating towards a gas station.

You take the opportunity to get out of the truck to strech your legs. Sarah does so too, but then whispers into your ear:

"Tell my dad I need to go to the bathroom. Don't want him worrying"

As if you'll talk to him. Despite that, you nod and she leaves you alone with her annoying dad.

"Reckless too, huh?" Joel appears by your side, almost making you drop your phone. "You know you're not s'pposed to use the damn phone on a gas station? Good thing I ain't let my daughter go alone with you"

You put your phone down. "Reckless? I know what I'm doing" but you sound nervous, for some reason.

"You haven't changed at all, have you?" Joel says, his voice surprisingly soft.

You heart gets stuck in your throat at the sudden shift, "I suppose not"

"I get that you hate me" he confesses, done filling the tank, "but I couldn't let the two of you go alone"

Your cheeks turn pink at the accusation, "I don't hate you"

He laughs, and the sound has something stirring in the lower of your belly. Why is Joel Miller of all people provoking feelings in you no other boy has ever provoked? You're used to playing with boys as you please, and you come to realize that's where the difference lies: you don't know how to handle a man.

A man so strong, your eyes don't leave him as his arms flex while pumping the gas, the delicious peek his simple white shirt gives you not going unnoticed; droplets of sweat on his temple, sliding down his jawline then getting lost down the crook of his neck. You lick your lips on instinct, horrified when you realize what you've just thought and done.

"Damn right you don't"

You could say you've reached some kind of truce, but then Sarah comes back, and when you look at Joel again, he's reverted to that annoying apathic state of his, but instead of bothering you, it only makes you want more.

"Hey" he says to Sarah, "where you went?"

"I had to pee, dad. Relax" she dismisses, shooting at you a can-you-believe-it look.

He walks away, ready to jump in the driver's seat again, when he turns around to whisper to Sarah:

"Don't ever leave me again" tone stern, "not with her"

But you hear.

You arrived late, the sun hiding behind the large body of water that seemed infinite.

"I can't believe we missed the first sunset!" you whine. "It was going to look so good on my Instagram stories..."

"This generation and their problems" Joel scoffs, taking the suitcases to the house you've rented for the next two days.

The answer is right at the tip of your tongue, but you decide to be the bigger person and remain quiet. If he wants to play, you better play smart.

"Dad, please" Sarah calls him out, and you have to hide a laugh. "Don't fight with y/n"

"I ain't doing shit" he sneers, crossing his bulking arms.

Sarah walks past him, muttering against his childishness. That angers Joel, who tries to remain cool.

"I know you hate me" you suddenly appear by his side. Your vainilla scent gets up on his nose, invading his body of you. "I just think you should try, for Sarah"

"I don't hate you" he answers, and now it's your turn to laugh.

"Yeah? Doesn't seem like it, Mr. Miller" it comes out before you can stop it, and there's something dark lurking behind his brown eyes piercing through you.

"I don't" sounding more sure this time. Serious too.

"You'll have to prove that"

You enjoy the surprise on his face and the light pink sprinkled across his cheeks.

"Prove that?"

You nod, finding all of this suddenly funny.

"Hmh, you heard me. Prove it, Mr. Miller. That you don't hate me"

But before he can respond, your bestfriend is back.

"Y/n, come on! You need to check the house. It has a shared balcony!" Sarah beams giddy.

You let her excitement infect you, taking her hand as you go inside the house. Joel stays back, your words ringing on his ears.

On the other hand, Sarah and you check the room together.

"Look this" she points at one of the mirrors in the room: it has details that remind you of the sea. "Isn't it cute?"

"It is" you agree, "we should take a picture"

"Okay. But use your phone" she says, "mine died on the road"

You're about to pull it out when you feel your pockets empty.

"It's... not here"

"You might have left it in the car" she tries to help.

"Yeah" you try to remain level-headed, "I'll go search for it"

You return to the truck, pressing your head against the window. Just like your friend guessed, it's there, abandoned on the seat.

"Lost somethin'?"

You gasp, turning around. Joel Miller's face is centimeters away from yours, breathing heavily as his body cages your smaller frame against the truck's doors.

"My phone" you find your voice after what feels like eternity, "it's inside the car"

"Need help with that?" his voice sounds low, whisper easily to be confused with a growl.

You don't know how to answer, scared for the first time of where your mouth could take you. So your solution is to nod, and step aside for him to open the car.

"There you go" he's dropping it in your hands, fingers lightly brushing yours. There's a shiver down your spine despite the cool weather, and you know damn well it's all his fault. He may feel it too, by the way he takes a step back, putting some distance.

"Need anything else?" but it feels like a slap to the face, as if he's challenging you to speak what you've been thinking but are too coward to do when he stands before you.

"No" you mentally slap yourself for how pathetic you sound, "this is all I needed, Mr. Miller. Thanks"

You look back one last time, despite it all. And there it is: that same look he gave you in the car.

"Anytime" but it falls deaf to your ears, as you basically ran away from him.

Him and his imposing presence, enough to make your legs tremble and your mind to stop working. Him and his smell, that brings you back to simpler times and reminds you of a a secret place in the woods, musk getting under your skin. Him and his breath, hitching when you touch hands. Him and his beating heart, just as loud as yours.

"Took you long" Sarah comments when you return, "I was already falling asleep"

She doesn't know or suspect, you tell yourself, but that doesn't stop you from feeling sick.

That night, as Sarah lays by your side and you try to sleep, all you can think about is his big hands, the lingering feeling of a warm touch. And then Joel, stepping back―coming to his senses, as if something is holding him back.

Anytime.

You can't help but wonder what stopped him.

Days have blurred between drinks by the poolside, waves crashing, wet sand in your fingers and sun carressing skin.

Despite what happened, Joel remains in the shadows, letting you and Sarah enjoy your trip in peace. You may be spending time with your bestfriend, but his presence hangs in the air, impregnated with his strong pine and whisky smell, looming over you like a shadow; suffocating, like his scent is all you can breath. You hate how your mind keeps going back to him, because despite your inicial claims to ruin him, that wasn't the purpose of this vacation, yet Joel seems to have infected you with a need that corners your mind to think of him and him only. The greed you feel is unnatural, like a spell has been cast upon you. He may be far, just as you wanted, and you should enjoy that, but it's that very same distance that is driving you insane.

Today, you and Sarah decided to go diving and then play volleyball.

The day ends, the sun sets, and so does the tiredness. But as Sarah's snores fill your ears, you toss around the bed, trying to conceal sleep to no avail.

Staring at the ceiling, you kept drifting back to Joel, mind wondering and heart racing at thoughts of strong arms caging you, warmth in your body that the breeze creeping through flowing curtains fails to provide.

The sound of wood creaking jolts you awake. His silhoutte is hard to miss, and your eyes follow it cross your bedroom. You pretend to be asleep, his scent up your nose as he walks in careful measured steps, trying not to wake you up. He looks back at Sarah, and the moonlight betrays him when it shines over his eyes, revealing an adoration that gnaws your chest.

He keeps walking, until he reaches the shared balcony. It's then that you make a choice, heart pounding in your chest as you race yourself from bed, going his way.

You go outside, finding him resting his arms on the balcony, facing the beach in silence. Soft waves crash against the wet sand, but not even that can overpower the sound of your beating heart.

"What're you doin' here?" he's asking, even if you haven't moved from your spot. Seems like your friend wasn't joking about his heightened senses, despite his old age. "Thought y'were 'sleep"

"Well, Sarah is a fast sleeper" you answer, walking to his side.

"She sure is" and the faintest of a smile appears on his face.

Joel Miller is a mystery to you: the most closed off man you've ever met, hiding behind his apparent apathy that only seems to be gone whenever Sarah is around. She's the apple of his eye, and those soft traces of a more tamed character that come to light have truly picked your interest, begging for more crumbs that will help you puzzle who he really is: he, that is as handsome as a mystery. The worst is, you don't know what attracts you more.

But you won't let him win.

"Mr. Miller?"

"Yeah?"

"Were you married?"

He looks at you, dark eyes partly iluminated by the moonlight.

"Aren't you a bit too young to be bold?"

"And aren't you too hot to be all alone?" you reply in an instant, rendering him speechless.

He chuckles, but it sounds defeated rather than amused.

"Trust me, kid" he's back at facing the ocean. Goddamn coward. "This isn't what you want"

"Don't call me kid" you berate, almost repulsed at it. "I'm twenty one"

He scoffs. "Still hella young"

"But I know what I want" a wavering hand ready to trace over his pecs, but he's stopped you before it descends. Before it's too late.

"You don't" he assures, grip on your hand stronger, without knowing how much you're enjoying this. Or maybe he does. "See? That's the problem with you kids: you think you do, but you don't"

You loose your patience.

"Tell me then, Mr. Miller. Would a kid do this?"

Taking the distraction, the same hand flies now to grop his dick, and to your surprise, it's already hard.

"Seems I'm not the only one who doesn't know what they want"

"Stop" he warns, hissing when your eager fingers unbuckle his belt. It's huge, for some reason, and you can't help but feel an ardent throb at the thought of grinding on it.

When your eyes look at Joel, he swears he sees you devilishly smirk, almost as if you were mocking him.

"Stop?" you bite your lip, feigning innocence as doe eyes look where dark ones had done before. "If that's what you want, you aren't even trying"

You kneel down, and the position gives you the perfect side of his adam's apple bobbing in a nervous gulp. He grows insecure under your intense stare, breath hitching when the wind hits his now free member as you pull down his underwear, revealing it hard and leaking with precum. You laugh delighted, with victory, and he finds himself trapped between the moon and your games, drowning on a sea feet away.

"I think I know what you want"

"How? You don't even know what you want" barely fighting it.

Your fingers grace over his soft abdomen, tracing down his belly and happy trail. Your teeth nip at the skin scattered with soft rosy lines, peppering the skin with fluttering kisses to entertain your mouth until your digits touch his hard cock. Joel whines, squirming, and you're delighted with the receptiveness, needy sounds escaping his lips.

You haven't even started yet.

"You're right, I don't" you agree. "All I know is you piss me off and that you ruined our trip, so I'm gonna take my anger out on you one way... or another"

You take your first lick, savouring the dark red head. His hips buck, a shaky gasp robbed from his chapped lips.

"Fuck" he exhales weakly, lost against the sound of water.

"Don't worry, Mr. Miller. I'll take good care of you" admiring his girth. He looks down on you, bottom lip caught between his teeth. Joel can't lie and say he isn't fascinated with the way you look at him, not believing so much appetite can fit in such a small young body. Not even his partners before you, had looked at him like he was the best thing in the world, and now here you were: the loud-mouthed brat best friend of his daughter, sucking his cock while Sarah slept just a few meters away. Just yersteday he was bickering with you, not standing your spoiled attituted and juvenile spirit that can't be tamed and won't shut up. Hell, you had even disrespected him. But here he is, not being able to find the words or actions to stop you: because he doesn't want to.

It was all so fucked up.

But then you're closing your lips around his swollen head, and he knows there's no point in fighting it anymore, his whole body urging him to give in.

"Oh, fuck" he pants, getting all worked up as you take him deeper. "Keep goin'. You're doin' a great job, sweetheart"

The praise gets to you, even if not needed.

Your tongue swirls, running the muscle with wet slides, up and down, tip to base, some pressure applied. You proceed to take in his balls, feeling him tense up. You wanted to mock him badly, but your mouth was full of his dick, so that wasn’t happening.

"D-don't stop" he pleads, sounding more like a whine.

He's deep enough that it hits your throat. You've never been this greedy, but also, have never tried with a dick so big. You feel him in the roof of your mouth, your lips at the base of the tip, brushing against skin. Joel can't keep up: breath hitching, moans ragged and consumed, barely standing if it wasn't for your hands digging in his thighs for support.

You keep building pace, seeing Joel's face scrunch up.

"M' close" his voice comes out strained, his head tilting back, wild soft locks from before now plastered against his forehead, dripping with sweat. His muscles tense, you can feel it, and it's just about time before he's coming inside your mouth.

You want it. To taste more of him, who you claim to hate but feels oh so good. Strong, just as his presence.

"So good, fuck, you're so good" in a tone so needy and desperate. It falls out of his lips, followed by more unintelligible praises dripping from his tongue.

And then, in a shaky breath, lost to the wind:

"Y/n"

You gasp, and he feels it, the air ticklish on his sensitive skin.

Joel said your name.

Your name, in a way it had never been said before. Uttered like a prayer, submerged in devotion. Your name, melting into his moans, deep within him, the calling full of a primal desire. The experience is intoxicating, making you crave more.

Joel comes with a groan, head falling back. Your name dies on his lips as his hips thrust up with your lips closing in. Thick spurts of cum mix with saliva in the back of your throat. You pull out, a string of saliva still connecting you to his dick. He looks down on you, body shaking as much as yours. Without breaking eye contact, he wipes some of the mess drooling from your lips, his calloused thumbs carresing you with a softness you didn't think was possible. The contrast makes you falter a bit, and you know Joel notices.

"There you go" your voice comes out hoarse, avoiding his eyes, "now you know what you want"

He chuckles, giving you a hand to stand up. As you raise to your feet, his face is barely inches away from yours. You can see the lines time has marked across his face, the grays coloring hair you remember to be brown, and those eyes―piercing through you like they know you better than you know yourself.

"But do you?"

Joel Miller doesn't know what is regret.

He didn't feel it when Sarah arrived unexpectedly at the ripe age of twenty, forcing him out of college. He didn't feel it when Sarah's mother left him alone to raise his daughter all by himself, aware he had tried it all to make it work. He surely didn't feel it when you came back after leaving Texas, long gone the childlike wonder and features that made him see you as an extension of his daughter, his gaze lingering a bit too long on this familiar face in a beautiful blooming new body.

But this is different, and he isn't sure if, for the first time, he's finally known what is regret.

Joel Miller also doesn't know when to back out of a fight.

He remember his brother Tommy, practically begging to let go of some asshole that dared to pick up on him, knuckles bloody no matter if he was young then and old as stubborn now, the same red painted across his willfull hands.

But now those hands prickle and sweat, no matter how much he runs them over the fabric of his jeans. And now, as your dangerous stare pierces through him across the small table, Sarah oblivious to the game as she quietly munchs her cereal, Joel Miller backs down, his gaze the first to look away.

He realizes just now why he was so afraid to look up to the sky after you left. The same stars that stared back from the high of the dark night are akin to the ones dancing in your eyes.

"Mr. Miller" your voice breaks his train of thoughts.

"Where's Sarah?" he asks in a panicked voice, realizing you've been left alone.

"Brushing her teeth" you answer, slightly taken back by his tone. "We were going out today, remember?"

Ah, yes. A little tour to an island not to far away from there.

"M' not goin'. Sorry, kid" he's decided. Before you can speak, Sarah returns and asks the question herself.

"M' tired. That's all" but it sounds rather an excuse.

"Are you sure, dad?" Sarah presses, not sure why he had changed his mind at the last minute.

"Yeah" he insists, all while avoiding those eyes of yours, unsatisfied and searching for answers of questions qithout a voice. "You girls go and have fun"

So you do.

You go and feel like you're inside of Mamma Mia (your favorite movie; both of you learned ABBA's discography thanks to it, something that offended your parents), the sun reflecting in the water, the little island with its green and sun, and the flowers that dust their petals into the shore where your boat arrives.

But when the trip is over and soft waves rock your return, you think of Joel.

You think you should feel at least a little ashamed of becoming so obssesed with a man in barely two days, who, on top of it all, is your bestfriend's dad. But then you remember the taste of him inside your mouth, how his dick had rasped against your throat, his seed warm in the tip of your tongue. And then his eyes, promises meant to be broken locked away behind tides of fear, that do an excellent job of reminding you how easy is to drown; to fall for how in hazel flickers, Joel seems he'd give you the world.

"Let's get drunk" you deadpan once you're back at the shore.

Sarah laughs at your determination, then realizes you're serious.

"What?"

"Yeah, it's our last day here" you reason. "Besides, your dad isn't here. What's he going to say?"

If you sound between angry and dissapointed at his absence, Sarah remains quiet.

"We're running away" she tries one last time, but by the look in your eyes, you've made your choice.

"Are we? We're twenty-one, Sarah. We can do whatever the fuck we want" you feel rebellious all of a sudden, "what? Don't you wanna give this trip a grand finale?"

So you crash into the nearest bar and waste the night away, drinking and dancing. But you're ordering a drink you don't like, and in every glass of whiskey down your throat, his name hangs in the air like the memory of his smell, locked behind a vault as if it's too sacred to say. But when Sarah gets a boy to dance and lends his friend to you, you wish there was rough where soft meets your skin, and chapped when you kiss his lips. Your body burns ablaze with sweat, alcohol and regret, a dangerous combination that makes you pull Sarah out of the bar when you feel you're about to black out. She complains, but you're set on making it to the bed before your eyelids shut.

Maybe it's because you always had what you wanted, or maybe it was the forbidden, but whatever reason had pushed you in Joel's orbit, refused to let you go.

And maybe you're imagining his voice, scolding you like a kid. Maybe you're seven again, and in the shadows of the bed, you've gone back to your childhood days. Y/n, y/n, y/n. That sick berating tone of his, acting like you're stupid and small.

"Fucking brat" he spats, drops of his angry scowl landing on your cheek. You then realize he's hovering over you, and it's real, not a product of your foggy mind. So you stand up, sobering up a bit, when he charges back again. "Makin' my daughter pass out? What the fuck were you thinkin'? Could've ended in the middle of the street. You're s'pposed to go to the damn island and then come back!"

Your mouth tastes like sand, but even if you've passed out a couple hours ago, the fire doesn't die. So your tongue is back, finding it's voice to say:

"Well, if you hadn't left us alone, this wouldn't have happened"

He chuckles, darkly. Humorless. "I see"

"What?" you challenge, a shiver down your spine that looses itself somewhere else.

"You got my daughter drunk as revenge"

You're mortified at the accusation, the remnants of alcohol now long gone of your system.

"Do you think I'd risk me and my best friend's safety for you? Out of all people, you?" not caring if you sound bitter.

The truth sticks to your skin as uncomfortably as the sweat.

"I dunno, sweetheart. That's why I'm asking you" the pet name rolls effortlessly, in a rough voice that creates a wet spot in your panties. He gets closer, and you can see the tremble of his lips as he lets out a shaky breath. "Be a good girl and answer"

"I won't tell you shit" you spit.

"You little minx, thinkin' you can run your tongue like it ain't been 'round my cock before" you look like a deer caught in headlights, and Joel's enjoying this more than he should. "That's right, what'd Sarah think knowing her friend's a little slut for'er daddy's cock?"

The electric current that crosses your body sparks the fire of the woods hiding behind his auburn storms.

Now you're feeling high on a forest fire. You want the flames to engulf you, even if ashes is all there'll be left.

"Tell me you want this" his forehead clashes against yours, and the whole world falls silent, except for your ringing ears.

"I want this" and he's just as surprised as you are by the unwavering conviction. "I need you, Mr. Miller"

You try to get up, but he pushes you with full force back into your bed. Then, the base creaks, and he's on top of you, his weight pressing you against the mattress.

"What are you-"

"You think I'd let you get away easily? Have things your way? Naive lil' girl" he tuts, "I'll punish you for that"

As on cue, drowned out snores are heard from your side.

"But, Sarah-" you try to protest, his body caging you under his mercy.

"That'll mean you're behavin', right?" he runs his thumb across your lips, gently pulling them down, as if the chase was thrilling as eating the prey. "I know you don't want to wake her up and see her slut of a friend bangin' her daddy"

You tense, remaining silent at the threat, even if your body reacts other ways.

"Good girl"

He’s quick to get rid you of your shorts.

"Fuckin' hell" he murmurs against your neck, the clothing discarded somewhere in the room. "Wearin' this little shitty bottoms to rail me up, knowin' damn well when to bent and get me hard. Been thinkin' of takin' them off ever since you wore 'em first"

The confession makes you whine, and Joel's delighted by the sound, and just how putty you are under his big rough hands.

"Let's see what we got here" his large hands caress your thighs as he settles between your legs. "Black lace, baby? Such a fuckin' tease. Wore 'em for me?"

You shake your head, but his calloused digits dig on the plush skin of your thighs, making you wince at the pain.

"Don't lie to me, sweetheart. You'd said you'll be a good girl, yeah?" you nod, soaking wet, painfully so.

"Yes, I'll be"

"Show me your manners, then" he presses light kisses on the insides of your thighs, close to where you need his graying beard to tickle, "and I'll show you mine"

"Just eat me, Joel" you demand breathlessly. "Fuck. Need you, Mr. Miller, so bad"

"And why should I reward you, impatient little slut? Eager to get daddy's filthy mouth between that pretty pussy" Joel bites the inside of your thigh, and it takes all of your strength to avoid becoming a moaning mess. "You've been bad, sweetheart. A brat"

You deny it, but his head dissappears between your legs, licking the wet spot on your panties. You squirm under the teasing of his tongue, legs shutting close on instinct. You drown a whimper in your palm as he yanks your panties away.

"Don't do anything I ain't tell you to" demanding, and if you weren't this horny and out of your mind, you'd probably be scared. "There'll be consequences"

You try to obey. But then his nose, that big nose you want covered in your slick as you grind off of it between your legs, sniffs your panties. He gives it one big sniff, and then two, fingers going white as he holds the piece of fabric with too much force, shoving it on his face.

"Ye'r too fuckin' sweet, I'll give you that" he mumbles in a drunken haze. "Need to taste that drippin' cunt of yours 'night"

The bed creaks again, or maybe it's the sound of his bones starting to give in to old age, but Joel is sucking your clit, tongue pushed inside of your puffy folds. You hide a moan against his lips, hands traveling to grip his hair.

"Joel" you breathe out. 

He parts your folds easily, and before you know it, a rugged finger circles your entrance. Your back arches, and then he leaves place for his mouth again, flicking your sensitive core with his tongue. A moan a little too loud escapes your lips, making his eyes darken when the bed next to you shifts, Sarah tossing in her sleep.

"You dumb fuckin' brat. What'd I say?" his hand slams against your pussy, a sting you've never felt before, both showered in pain and pleasure, spreading across your cunt. "Don't disobey me. Apologize, now"

He stops his minstrations, and you're so achingly close to your orgasm, that the answer falls easy and rushed from your lips.

"Sorry, Mr. Miller"

"Good girl" Joel praises as he pushes his finger in, next to his tongue on your clit.

But the orgasm is so deliciously close, and you can't wait for more. So now you're grinding in his face by reflex, rubbing against his big nose just like you'd imagined. You whine at the sensation, and Joel rests his tongue flat on your clit with surprise.

"Who gave you permission to do that?" but his voice sounds more amused than nagging. "That imagination of yours is somethin' else. Have you been thinkin' bout it all this time, hmh, greedy dirty slut?"

The orgasm looms closer, hitting when Joel pushes a second rough finger in, walls clenching against his digits. He pulls away, licking his fingers with his tongue.

"Such a perfect pussy you got there, sweetheart. As sweet as you when you ain't bein' a pain in the ass"

You laugh breathless, trying to recover.

"Wanna taste?"

So now he's kissing you for the first time, his lips rough against plush skin, nibbling with your lower lips between his teeth, his tongue still tasting like you roaming free inside your mouth, like he wants to mark every corner; imprint himself in you. You've never wanted anything, hell, anyone more. The kiss leaves you hanging, heart racing at the closeness of his face and the warmhearted feeling of his lips on yours, like pieces of a puzzle fitting together.

"There you go" he chuckles, enamoured at the sight of your puffy lips. "Now it's my turn"

He's quick to get rid of the jeans and belt (oh well, it'll be another day) until he's over you, just wearing his boxers.

You'd never seen Joel naked before, why would you? But there's a vague memory of hot summer days, trying to survive the heat in the town's pool, just as the rest. He was there, eye candy for the mothers and horny teens. You hadn't understand back then, when he was all muscle, but you do know, where the mighty strenght is still hidden there, somewhere between his sturdy arms and chest as soft as his belly, round as it pushes above the only piece of cloth that forbids you to see his dick. His chest is full of hair, and God, you feel so dirty wanting to bury your face in the sweat drenched patch.

"Stop lookin' at me like that" he teases, but there is a small voice of insecurity hiding its undertones beneath his smirk under your stare.

"You're so fucking hot, Joel" comes out before you can stop it, now mouth acting up on its own.

Fuck, he thinks, he's too far gone. There's no point of return.

Your eager fingers pull down the underwear, fingers grazing the softness of his length. You slowly grabs his dick as he comes closer, never seeing anything as big and provoking as it. That makes you tighten your grip on his dick, which stands proud and tall, leaking precum, and the muscles of his thighs strain against his skin. 

He positions himself between your legs again.

"Let's put this big bad boy to use, huh?"

He grunts at your words, large hands finding your thighs for support, as he caresses up and down the skin littered with marks and kisses.

Joel pushes in. Just his tip, yet your mouth falls open at how large he already feels, and you tighten your hold on his neck.

"Tell me if it hurts" all softness on his eyes, his forehead falling against yours, as if he hadn't been punishing you just minutes ago. Your heart races at the gesture, tender meeting the rough of his edges.

The real question isn't asked, but you're on the pill and you trust him. You just want to fill him inside of you, all of him.

"I will, Mr. Miller"

He slams all the way in. You let out a broken sound, quickly muffled by his palm as he stays buried deep inside of you, givimg you time to adjust to his size. It burns, but you enjoy the way the pain feels. He slowly pulls out, before pushing all the way in again. Your slick folds take him, and he grunts, supporting his aching body by the forehead against yours one more time.

"So tight, sweetheart. Ain't nobody ruinin' this pussy but me" his growl comes out possesive as Joel establishes a steady rhythm. You softly moan as he keeps moving, pounding into you, hitting a spot no one had before, making you see stars. It gets harder to stay quiet, but Joel caputres every little sound that comes out of you in a kiss, as if that way he could preserve them better and forever.

You wrap your legs tight around him, keeping him close as your walls clench around him, his thrusts harder yet slower as he keeps going, ramming into you.

"Look at you, coatin' my dick like a fuckin' meltin' ice cream" he gently pushes it again between your folds, rubbing his dick on your clit. "So fuckin' wet, for me"

His lips are slightly parted and his eyes looked all fogged up, lost in the fire, thrusts becoming sloppier as he too feels it coming.

"So fuckin' pretty" drips from his mouth, and there's the stars in your eyes and the light you insist he's always had, even if he'd prefere the darkness. "The prettiest girl in the world with the sweetest pussy, givin' it all to this ol' perverted fuck"

The words and his big dick inside of you makes your eyes flutter shut on instinct.

"Don't sleep on me, baby" he coos, a hand brushing damp hair from your face. You recognize the look: the same in the car, on the balcony and on the poarch of his house, after letting the years go by. Back then, you thought you had dreamed it, but now that the secret saccharine sweetness reveals herself as he slams into you, you know it was real.

This is real.

You meet his gaze again and try to hold it as he pounds you so gently yet so rough, trying to show him without words that whatever this wrong and sick feeling was, you felt the same.

"Such'a good girl, takin' me so well" Joel grunts, slamming to the hilt. "Fuck, sweetheart, I'm gonna-"

His dick twitches inside of you, walls spasming around his cock as your pussy takes it all, milking him dry.

"Take it all, like the good girl you are"

Both of you pant, and it takes him a while to realize the sun is raising again until its rays hurt his eyesight.

He's about to tell you how this shouldn't be, how he, at such an old age shouldn't be pinning for his daughter's friend: so young, sweet and loud-mouthed. No matter if you felt the same, or if your body was marked in and out by him. No, because wanting isn't enough, and no tide could wash away his sins from the shore.

"Listen, y/n-" your name like he has never said it before: no scold, no malice nor lust. Just a softness he hadn't felt in years, asleep under thick layers of cold.

But your soft snores fill the silence between the beats of his heart.

credits: divider @kodaswrld / gif @loregifs / tags: @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @pedrosgrogu thank you sm for reading! hope u enjoy it :)

[yanderedrabbles]

Sunk and Gone

Yandere! Gangster x Mafia Boss! Reader

Fluff, needy yandere, age difference, slightly suggestive content

He was just some dumb kid who played with fire.

Before he knew it, he was getting his ass kicked by the real deal, the big time guys.

He dropped your name out of pure desperation. He had no clue who you were really. He just wanted to save his own skin.

He never expected you to actually show up.

In your white tailored suit, you were like some mafioso guardian angel.

You tilted his chin up to face you and he couldn't bear to meet your eyes. You were goddamn terrifying.

"This little punk says he's one of mine?"

You lazily blew your cigar smoke into his face. It was black cherry, high class stuff. He can still remember the taste of it on his tongue, the way it made his whole body tingle.

He thought he was done for. You were probably gonna set your own guys on him for dropping names he had no business knowing.

He never expected you to save him.

His beat down gurus were cussing up a storm, saying he practically maimed one of their guys, he wouldn't even be able to walk for a week.

What bullshit. The most he did was give the guy a shiner before he was getting his own ass kicked.

You smiled at him then, like you knew exactly how much crap they were spewing.

You nodded and your guys threw a fat stack of cash on the table. All 100s. God, there must have been at least 5k just sitting there.

You hauled him to his feet and that's when he realised you were stronger than you looked too.

"Why?"

He barely even managed to ask that.

You were trying to light a new cigar and get back in your fancy car, but your lighter was just throwing up sparks.

He found himself reaching into his pocket and pulling out his shitty gas station lighter. He struck a flame and held it out to you.

You leaned in and caught his eyes for the second time that night. The flame was dancing in your eyes and you looked just like the devil.

He was sunk right then and there and he knew it.

He showed up outside your office everyday, waiting with his lighter clasped in his sweaty palm.

Everyday without fail, you would give him a chance to light one of your smokes for you.

"Don't you got someplace better to be kid?"

"No ma'am."

And he kept doing it, rain or shine or snow. On bad days, he'd bring his umbrella and unfurl it for you before you even stepped out of the car.

"You shouldn't keep hanging around kid. It ain't safe."

"I know ma'am."

He stayed, despite the dirty looks from the gangsters, despite the way they bumped into him hard enough to bruise. He stayed, stubborn as a goddamn mule, until you gave up on getting rid of him.

"I got a job for you kid."

"Anything you ask ma'am."

Oh he was a sucker for you. You had him hook, line and sinker without even trying.

And he worked hard. Running errands and then pushing drugs and then beating down the folks you set him loose on. There weren't any limits anymore, no line he wouldn't cross for you.

After a while, you let him in your guard rotation. And he was in bliss. He watched you constantly.

Hell, he couldn't take his eyes off you even if he wanted to. The capo himself said he was impressed with his diligence.

"Come here kid. You ever had oysters before?'

"No ma'am."

You were in one of your favourite restaurants, finishing up your meal and just drunk enough to have given yourself a pretty flush across your cheeks.

You made him lean toward you and gripped his chin before tilting the oyster into his mouth. It was salty and soft and his mind was going awful dirty awful fast.

After that he would order oysters whenever he could. He could almost feel your fingers on his skin when he ate them.

And soon he was part of your interrogation crew. His shirt sleeves rolled up and his forearms splattered with blood. He was putting on muscle now too and his punch hurt worse than a hammer to the face.

One unlucky son of a bitch made the mistake of insulting you right in front of him. God help him, when the anger cleared, the man's face was nothing more than pulp.

And you were watching him. One arm crossed under your breasts with the other balanced on it, a cigarette held up to your lips.

"You're a real good guard dog, you know that kid?"

"Thank you ma'am."

The next time you summoned him, you were in your office. Your heels were off and your legs were crossed, your stockings showing off the curves of your feet.

"Grab that pen for me."

It was on the floor under a side table and he had to get down on his knees to get it. When he moved to stand, you interrupted him.

"Don't get up. But bring it here."

"Yes ma'am."

He was grinning like a dog in heat. He put the pen in between his teeth and crawled on his hands and knees to you.

He sat at your feet like a goddamn puppy, his boner so fucking hard he thought it would rip through his trousers.

You cupped his chin in your palm and looked down at him. From down here, your legs looked a mile long and he wanted to lick every inch.

"You're such a loyal little thing, you know that?"

"Ysss mmm."

It was muffled because he still had that fucking pen in his mouth. And he was damn thankful for it too. Without something to bite onto, he was sure he'd actually be panting.

You took it carefully out of his mouth. A string of saliva followed it and you twitched your thumb across his lips to break the connection.

"Good boy."

You turned away from him, shaking the pen off a little and getting back to the books you were balancing.

He whimpered.

He actually fucking whimpered.

You smirked a little at that and shooed him away with one perfectly manicured hand. He dragged his feet walking out of there, his boner killing all higher thinking. Just hoping and praying you would call him back.

He turned to look at you before he closed the door. You had your face resting in one hand and you were tapping the pen against your lips with the other. Your eyes were entirely focused on your books.

And he felt it all over again. He was sunk - hook, line and sinker.

He was your loyal dog. Now and always.

[venusstorm]

𝐘𝐞𝐬, 𝐒𝐢𝐫

Declan O'Hara x Fem!Reader

Summary: Declan's assistant is hurt and confused by his sudden departure from Corinium. Upon a visit to his home, feelings unfold and truths become known.

Warnings: 18+, fluff, angst, pet names, daddy kink, spit kink, bathtub sex, breeding, mentions of reader having hair, claw marks, and bruises, finger fucking, choking, gagging, kissing, spanking, adultery

w/c: 3393

‥∵‥‥∵‥୨୧‥∵‥‥∵‥୨୧ ‥∵‥‥∵‥୨୧ ‥∵‥‥∵‥୨୧ ‥∵

"Where the hell is Declan!" You burst through the doors of the O'Hara household, loud and furious. You didn't buy the "He’s sick" claim for a moment, no matter how often Baddingham kept spewing the lie out of his mouth. And when you questioned his truthfulness, he sent you down the hall to Vereker's office, alerting you that you would no longer be Declan’s assistant. 

But you'd pull every last strand of hair from your head if you had to spend another second working for that asshole. And when that's gone, you'd start on your legs and then your arms, and perhaps a few eyelashes too. You ignored Tony's shouts as you left the office building searching for your true boss.

Which led you speeding through town, barreling through the countryside until you arrived at Declan’s grand estate. You banged on the door and when you were met with silence, your hands wrapped around the handle, pleasantly surprised when the door opened wide. 

Without hesitation, you stride through the foyer and march up the staircase. The long corridor witnessed you shout his name, scanning every room until you find his office. The doors cracked open which obviously means he’s welcoming you right in. 

"Declan! I swear to–" but his chair sits empty. A slew of papers and empty liquor bottles covered the surface. You squint your eyes in pure annoyance. If he's the reason you spend the rest of your week drowning out Verekers moans by fiddling your ears and banging your head against the desk, then he's in for it.

You sigh heavily as you turn around, heading for your next best guess. You envisioned him sneaking out drunkenly to a pub. Probably annoying the hell out of the bartenders because after his third drink, the man can’t shut the hell up. Or perhaps he's thrown himself into the woods to get eaten by wolves. You knew Declan, and when he hit rock bottom he crashed hard.

"That little shite doesn't know a goddamn thing."

The slurred words of Declan O'Hara ring through your ears. Like a siren call, you follow. He curses a fit of words, not once taking a breather. You follow the crude sounds until you reach another door. You don't bother knocking, he's far past the courtesy. 

"Found me," he slurs.

"Oh, for fucks sake, Declan!" You shield your eyes from the obscene view. He sits in a bathtub, legs sprawled open with a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. A bottle of beer is held tightly in his grasp and he doesn't seem to have any plans to let go of it.

"I didn't tell you to come in here" he grumbles. "Heard yer stomps from a mile away."

"Well, I was worried. And also pissed you left me with that blonde-haired devil. He fucks like a rabbit and not in a good way. Wouldn't be surprised if he catches a damn itch."

Declan scoffs. "He’s already infested."

Your hands remain shielding your vision, leaving you blind to the way he stares off into space, taking the final swig of his drink and muttering beneath his breath. 

"Just come back please." You sigh.

The sound of glass clanking and rolling to the ground echoed around the bathroom. You jump from the sudden noise, tightening your hand around your vision. He rolls his eyes while delivering a mocking laugh.

"Hand me another bottle o'er there and I'll consider."

You stand firmly, scowling at his impossible behavior. 

“Standin’ there won’t help, darlin’. Don’t know why you’re tryin’.” He exhales a cloud of smoke, the scent wafting towards your nose and meshing with the woodland scent of his bath soap. 

“Just tell me where to walk” you quip. 

Declan’s eyes dart towards you, his lips curling into an amused grin. “Y'might need to be able to see for that.”

You shake your head in defiance, “Just tell me where to walk.”

He’s no longer interested in the shitty beer he kept hidden in the bathroom. Instead, he focuses on how easily you fall into line for him. 

"Go to the right."

You follow his command, stepping to the right without hesitation. 

"Now go straight about five steps."  You don’t question his directions, placing your full trust in his judgment. 

"Yes, Sir." You do as you’re told, taking five small steps and pausing. "Now what?"

He groans softly at your admission, his length stirring as you patiently wait for his next directions. Your tone unleashed fantasies he kept hidden within the depths of his mind and if you stayed for another moment, he’d happily release every last one. 

There's a moment of silence before he continues. "To the right once more and you've got it."

You blindly reach your hands outward but defeatedly grasp open air. "Declan? I don't feel it."

"Bend down a little, it's on the second shelf."

His eyes widen as the hilt of your skirt rises against your ass, revealing the lace garters decorating your legs. He takes a long drag, watching shamelessly as you shimmy to adjust the length, struggling to do so single-handedly.

Finally, you touch the slim neck of a glass bottle. "Oh! I found it!" You giggle excitedly.

Declan smirks. "Atta girl."

If you weren't too busy shielding your eyes from the outside world, you'd notice the way Declan scans your body. His gaze dropped from your face to the white blouse you wore. Half the buttons were undone but it wasn't like you could check. You stood in front of him like a temptress, all precaution flying out the window the moment he heard your soft laughter.

"Now how do I get back?"

He laughs breathlessly. "Same way you came."

"Uh okay." You attempt to retrace your steps. Mouthing his previous directions aloud until you're semi-close to the door.

"Now walk forward a few steps" he ushers.

You nod, walking carefully toward the sound of his voice. His eyebrows furrow with mischief as you approach, your steps growing wider and far too close to the edge.

The next sequence of events occurs in a blur. You tumble forward and the water splashes over the edge, coating the tiled floors as you fall into the bathtub. You squeal as the hot water warms your body, soaking your attire and revealing everything underneath to Declan's eyes.

"Asshole!" You shout. You attempt to stand only to wind up slipping and falling right back into place.

He presses his cigarette butt against an ashtray before grabbing your arms. He steadies you, dragging your body up against his with ease.

"And that's why we don't walk with our eyes closed."

"You didn't tell me to stop!" You're so enthralled in fury and he can't help but to revel in it. He can only smile as you curse, attempting once again to stand before accepting defeat.

"How much goddamn soap did you put in here!" You shake your head with bitter laughter. You lay back against him, your heart racing out of your chest as his arms find themselves on your waist.

An evident shift in mood affects the room. "Why won't you look at me?" He questions.

"Simple. You piss me off."

You shut your eyes even tighter, ignoring the way his length ghosted across your stomach. His chest hair was surprisingly soft, pillowing your head and causing your heart to beat a skip faster. You stay quiet as his hands drift away from your waist and towards your thighs, forcefully gripping them and dragging you closer to him.

"Then why'd you come here?" He retorts rather quickly.

"Tony. I'm sick of being ordered around by him."

Declan hums. "You didn't seem to have a problem taking orders a few seconds ago."

You whimper as he palms your ass, kneading it roughly. You place your hands against his chest, fighting the desire to give in.

“That’s different. I was helping a friend.”

His lips broaden into a smile at your select choice of word. “Friend?”

“Yes, Delcan. You’re my friend but clearly you could care less.”

He doesn't miss the bitterness in your tone. There was a hint of resentment that clouded your features. He saw it in the way you turned your head further away, limbs tensing against his touch.

"I care," he reassures.

"But you left me.” The vulnerable words tumble from your lips before you can stop them. “You caused complete chaos and rightfully so but you left without a word. I know I’m your assistant but I care about you, Declan. You always said we’d get out of that shitshow together and you left me.”

Truthfully, you grew attached to him, infatuated with a man whose brain met the greatness of his kindness. An unrequited love. You knew it was impossible for him to feel the same way but witnessing him leave without a word solidified your fears. You were merely his subordinate and nothing more. 

Your disappointment reaches your tear ducts and unshed tears of despair begin to descend your cheeks. Declan doesn't hesitate to wipe them away, his thumbs swiping across your skin in comforting movements. 

"There ya' go, darlin'. It's okay to be upset. I deserve it."

“Did you forget about me that quickly? You hadn’t even called.” You burrow your head into the crevice of his arm, still unwilling to face him. 

Forget? 

How could he forget when thoughts of you ran rampant in his head? He wasn’t one to take orders but anything you said rendered him defenseless. Despite being your superior it often felt as if he was learning from you. He’d do whatever you wanted without question. 

He spent nights thinking of you, his hand wrapped around his aching size as he dared not to wake his sleeping wife. Muffling his moans, he thought of how you’d look in her place. How he’d tilt your head backward, kissing you languidly while pushing past your folds. He envisioned your sensual tone calling out his name, begging him to push harder, deeper, to which he’d obey. Following your every command because that’s all he craved to do. Gritting his teeth, clenching the satin sheets until he dreamt of filling you with his seed, no longer caring if his wife heard him murmur your name. 

“I could never forget you.” There’s a sincerity in his tone that shutters your core. 

Slowly you break free from your darkened corner, at last meeting his heated gaze. He stares at you with pure desire, eyes dark and glimmering with something farther than lust.

You take in his naked form, staring at the dark hair that danced down his stomach and covered his shaft. Water dripped from his hair, his typically sleek curls jostled and free. You couldn’t see what lay beneath his waist but you felt his heaviness against your stomach, throbbing with unmet need.

“You’re drunk” you rebuttal weakly. 

He shakes his head, “M’perfectly fine.” He sobered the moment reality hit that your body was laid against his. 

He waits for your next argument but it never arrives. The two of you stare in silence, subdued desires coming to light. Slowly you begin unbuttoning your blouse, stripping the wet cloth from your shoulders and tossing it onto the mat. Declan assists you wordlessly, his hands pulling down your skirt before reaching to unclasp your bra. He takes in this moment. Kissing your skin every time another item is removed until you sit exposed before him.

His hand caresses the back of your head, drawing you close enough for your lips to graze. “Tell me to stop and I will.” 

You nod, stopping the furthest thing from your mind. 

“I need words, darlin’. Are you okay with this?”

“I’m okay, Declan. Just…” Your brain turns into a foggy haze as you search for what you’d like to say. He grips your jaw, tilting it upwards to better meet your gaze. 

“Just, what? It’s okay. I won’t be mad.” 

You can’t seem to formulate the words to describe how you felt. His touch overwhelmed you in the best way possible. The fresh scent of his skin drowned your senses and feeling your most intimate parts glide against him took the entirety of your focus. 

“I just need you.” Your soft tone stirs something animalistic inside of him. Without another wasted second his lips meet yours. It starts impulsively rabid, his tongue wrapping around yours while he pushes your head further into him. He groans into your mouth, eyelids fluttering closed as he gets lost in your taste. But then he goes slower, savoring the way your hips begin to grind into him as your kiss grows messy. Saliva drips from the corners of your mouth until he drags his lips back over them.

Calling him desperate would be an understatement.

He pulls away regretfully, brushing the pads of his thumbs over your lips to clean his mess. You whine from the loss of connection, lips still parted and demanding him for more. 

Declan chuckles, granting your wish and delving into your mouth once more. Your hips rock against him, willing his length to rise. The water sloshes back and forth as you grind against his stomach, watching the rapid rise and fall of his chest eagerly. Your hand rests against his unshorn chest hair, envisioning gliding your wet cunt over it until he’s drenched. 

“That’s it, darlin’. Use me.” He moans into your mouth, uncaring of how loud he was being.

“Hurts” you whimper. He pulls away once again, his hands finding yours beneath the water and directing them towards your heat. You jolt as his fingers graze your aching clit, “This what hurts, baby?” he hums. You nod, directing his fingers toward your puffy folds. 

He tsks, “I think that’s your job, darlin’.” You hadn’t quite understood what he meant until you felt him direct your fingers inside yourself. Your face contorts with pleasure as you shove them inside without question, using his chest as leverage while you ride. Declan watches you carefully before sliding his fingers back against your clit, pressing it roughly.

“Your pretty button’s so swollen. Just wanna make it feel better.” He rubs small circles around your clit, slapping it roughly when he notices your eyes rolling backward.

“Look at me when you play with your pretty cunt.” Declan ignores the way his cock jolts against his skin, desperate to be buried inside of you. All he cared about at this moment was your pleasure, physically reassuring your place in his world. 

“M’gonna cum” you whine.  

You say his name continuously as he continues to toy with your clit, tugging and slapping it until you couldn’t take it anymore.

Declan wraps you in a confining hug as you shake against him, his hands rubbing the back of your neck as he talks you through your orgasm. You nuzzle into his chest, allowing his huge frame to provide you comfort. “D-” Your tongue teeters on the line of murmuring a word you knew you mustn’t say.

“Did so good for me, baby. That’s it, I’ve got you. Just ride it out, I’m right here for you.”

But your mind slips and the word comes flowing from your lips. “Daddy.” It was hardly above a whisper but Declan caught it nonetheless. He watches you curl into him, a level of trust in your actions that he knew he had to maintain forever. 

You’re shaken from your haze as Declan taps his length against your cunt, a newfound look of pure hunger darkening his gaze. 

Pre-cum drips down his length, the water washing away any evidence of his sin. He rubs his reddened tip against your folds, groaning loudly as you spread your thighs wider for him. 

He drags you onto his cock, holding you upwards as you take his size. Your moans blend into one continuous sound as he fills you, stretching your walls as you claw at his back. 

“C’mon baby, know you can take more, can you do that for me?”

You shiver as you allow yourself to bottom out against him, muffling a scream as he breaches you entirely. His eyes roll as he embraces your warmth, his arousal growing heavier. He stares down at where the two of you connect, your walls choking his cock and leaking downwards.

A wave of adoration washes over him before it becomes tainted with angry realizations. You sat beneath him, his perfect match. Someone who balanced him, calmed him, put up with him. And yet, he’s had to push his feelings away in the name of not causing a stir. 

He’s angry that he’s trapped in a loveless marriage riddled with infidelity and fueled by his income. Trapped in this goddamn house that he could care less about. Angry that Tony dangled his career in front of him like a chew toy. And most of all he was livid that you weren’t the one sleeping next to him every night. 

Declan shoves his hips forward, bouncing you on his length. “So fucking tight” he grits through his teeth. You clench around him, your wetness welcoming him even further. The noises were obscene, his heavy balls slapping against your ass as your pussy squelched. He revels in it, fingers finding your sweet lips to shove them in between.

You witness the furrow in his eyebrows and undoubtable frustration. You meet his gaze, lips wrapping around his fingers and sucking. You take them deeper until they’re practically shoved down your throat. 

“Should’ve known you’d be a fucking slut. You like this, don’t you? Bet you wish you were choking down my cock instead.”

“Uh huh,” you whine. You’d thought about it all the time. When he’d arrive to work angry, sitting at his desk with a pout. How you’d wanted to sink to your knees beneath him, hiding beneath his desk while you slid him down your throat. Muffling your gags as he answered the phone while stroking your hair.

He hooks into your cheek, widening your mouth so he can spit into it. He taps you, commanding you to swallow to which you happily oblige. You shake against him, tits bouncing freely. He grips onto them, slapping your sensitive nipples until they pebble in his fingertips. 

“How does it feel, baby? You like being stretched out? Can barely keep your eyes open, can you?”

Pressing against your womb, Declan feels his length shatter your walls. He watches you fall into his broad chest, clutching onto his back while he holds you closely. 

“Feels so good, daddy.” You whimper. 

“That’s right, baby. Daddy’s got you. Gonna be my little cock whore amn’t ya? Surprised your little cunt could even fit. Just shows you're perfect for me, hm?”

“M’hm, perfect” you repeat.

He knows you're close, he feels it when your nails dig into his skin. Surely leaving marks that he wouldn’t feel the need to hide. 

“You need to cum, don’t you, baby? It’s okay, nobody’s here. Just us. Let go for me, let Daddy feel you.” His pace becomes slower, pounding into you with deep thrusts.

Your vision blurs as you reach your high, shouting Declan’s name as you gush around him. He follows suit, your pulsating walls unleashing his heavy orgasm. He doesn’t relent as he shoots his load into you, locking you down as he fills you with his seed. He could care less about the consequences, nothing else mattered at the moment.

He captures your lips in his, taking short breaths to whisper how good you were for him. He suckles on your collarbone, leaving definite bruises to match the claw marks you undoubtedly left on his back. 

“Let’s get you dry” he murmurs. 

You nod, too tired to reply or move. Declan slides out of you, saddened by the loss of connection. He carries you out of the bathtub, his spend dripping from your pussy and leaking onto his leg. He clenches his jaw, fighting the desire to fuck it right back into you.

He wraps you in a towel, drying your skin before taking you into his bedroom. He sits you on the bed while he scourers his closet for something you could wear. Landing on an old college shirt that he refused to throw out. 

As he slides it onto your body, he presses his lips against your forehead. A million words silently transcribe between the two of you. He’s unsure of what the future holds but he’s certain that you belong in his.

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Drabble List #10

75 prompts to write drabbles or longer stories.

"Thank you, I really hate it."

"Can't figure out the right answer."

"Sit down and shut up."

"I'm definitely open to that."

"Why don't you answer your phone?"

"It's not a witchhunt."

"Is it suddenly getting colder?"

"That child is staring at you."

"Let's talk about some options."

"And then you just lost it?"

"Have you heard about this story?"

"It's going to be a great day today."

"Don't say another word."

"This is absolutely not my fault."

"What would happen if I'd kiss you right now?"

"It's always a risk, but think about the reward."

"There is a fine line between stupid and genius."

"I never really left."

"Answer me. Quickly."

"You hold no power here."

"We learn from our mistakes."

"Have you seen that the sun is coming out?"

"This sounds like an interogation."

"Should I call my lawyer?"

"I have always admired you."

"Who's at your house right now?"

"Call the number. Now."

"When are you getting paid?"

"It miraculously stopped working."

"I have absolutely no answers to your questions."

"You took us on a wild ride there."

"What did she look like?"

"That's a scam, ma'am."

"Let's see each other again in ten years."

"I will be waiting for you."

"Please, don't pick me."

"Not my friends, not my problem."

"It's not paranoia if they are really out to get you."

"You are such a hypocrite."

"Nobody asked me, but I will answer."

"How did you get your degree?"

"I'm not going to discuss this with you."

"Great, who cares?"

"You just can't handle the truth."

"I'm curious about your motive."

"Respect is not given freely."

"Your pride will be your downfall."

"Just let it go, okay?"

"Why do you insist on it?"

"Seeing you like this, I fell even more in love with you."

"I don't want to hear another word coming out of your mouth!"

"I just know that everything will go well."

"This is very important for me."

"Wow, the weather is really... doing its thing."

"Don't even try to talk to me."

"I can and I will sue."

"Maybe this was a mistake."

"Do I make you nervous?"

"You never had the best ideas."

"Don't wait for me."

"Who would you call?"

"That's too wild for me."

"You can't even say it with a straight face."

"I told you not to touch that."

"Do I really have to answer that?"

"Takes one to know one.

"Let me make this right."

"When did you become an expert in this?"

"Nothing is as serious as it seems."

"How could this accidently happen?"

"It's not my birthday."

"Sounds like wishful thinking."

"Welcome to my personal hell."

"Do you even know who I am?"

"The devil knows I tried."

Drabble Masterlist

Have fun creating and writing!

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[brummelliana]

Paul McCartney's 83rd Birthday Bash

To Paulie Mac, on his birthday.

Eigthy-three years. 83 years, I can't believe it. 83 years since you took your first breath, since you came into this world, pink and naked, with white asphyxia. An uholy union between Protestant and Catholic... resulting in this left handed freak of nature. He should've never been born, yet here he is, just to punish us. To make us pay for the sins we were all born with. Much like the devil himself, he was born with androgynous beauty and instrumental skill.

I feel like it was only yesterday the Germans were bombing Liverpool and we lived in a world without you. 82 Years since you took your first steps, 68 years since you discovered your body. You go by many names. Paul, the Beatles, James, Sir Paul, but most of all I remember you by one title. My scouse Goddess.

Words aren't enough to describe my hot sweaty passions. Even though I like jojo better now, you are still the only woman in the world. I'm not the first man led astray. Just look at John Lennon. You fucked the bastard up real good you naughty lad you. Not that he was normal before, but I digress. This isn't about him on today, of most holy days.

What can I say to describe your majesty? Of course you're one sexy piece. But that's not all. You're also a singer. Even though you're not as talented as the other British musicians, you still soldier on, releasing album after album. Some of those songs are okay, and I listen to them in the car. Oh how my heart tingles and throbs, oh how my dick shoots UP when I watch those old black and white movies. So much passion, so much spunk, as you SCREAM out your songs. How can a girl's heart resist. My desire.... persists.

Furthermore, do you think I'll stop at young Paul? As if! Get that wrinkly old sack of bones and elderly flesh OVER here. Milfs do it better, Gilfs do it best, everyone knows that. Age is just a number.

You've made a fool of me. I can't do shit without people being like "Hey isn't that the freak who drew milkman Paul." "Hey didn't she make that insane video game that everyone loves?" FINE! I can't help being an artistic protegy with a recognizable and beloved art style. I refuse to aPAULogize for my fervent deeply erotic LOVE!

But this isn't about me. This is about you, sweetie pie. I know you aren't long for this world, and when you do kick it for the final time and join John Lennon in the fires of hell, and say Hi to George Harrison on your way down, that is a day I will begin mourning. I already have my black veil picked out. I'll wear it in the southern heat, and people will ask me: Hey, why are you wearing that thing? And I will say: My goddess has fallen. What else is there to do? Oh Paul... oh Paul....

As I'm working on a game in your honor, I don't have the time to draw a special birthday piece. But don't forget you will always be my wet sloppy the Beatles whore.

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Sinners and Hoodoo

I appreciate how the film "Sinners" doesn't demonize Hoodoo. As someone who grew up around Hoodoo lineages from Louisiana, Mississippi, and Georgia, and who also practices it myself, it is a breath of fresh air to see that part of my culture presented in such a thoughtful way. (Shoutout to Ryan and Zinzi Coogler for bringing Professor Yvonne P. Chireau on the production as a consultant to get the depiction historically accurate).

I personally think a lot of Christians who take issue with Hoodoo being highlighted positively are finally being presented with an alternative view from what they've been ingrained to believe is evil. Colonial religions are a type of brainwashing that many of us have been subjected to whether it is Christianity (or Islam). Black people who were forced to take on these different religions during slavery days in the diaspora did what we always do, take the worst of what we're given and transform it into something that works for us.

Black people bring the spirit to colonizer religions. It's why our ceremonies, gospel music, and ways of worship hit harder at a deeper level than white people's. We call God and the ancestral spirits down, and often, they ride us. We call it getting happy. Catching the spirit. Or the holy ghost took over. Or a Loa/Orixa chose us to ride as their horse. I've had it happen to me in New Orleans at a little club while Big Chief Victor Harris, the Spirit of Fi Yi Yi, was performing with the Mandingo Warriors. I'd been feeling 'touched" all day doing some writing research at Tulane, handling some personal spiritual work, and visiting the late great Big Chief Tootie Montana. The drums got to going, I got to dancing and shouting, and the next thing I know is...transcendence and coming back to myself.

A lot of Black people are taught to be afraid of Hoodoo even though Hoodoo practitioners sit right next to them in church. Pray over them. Take care of the shut-in. Provide food at baptisms and funerals. Teach Sunday school and sing in the choir. A lot of us practice Hoodoo ways at home and simply think , "Oh that's what my mom/dad/grandmother/grandfather/cousin/aunt/uncle used to always do." Some of our laughed about superstitions are Hoodoo. Do you clean your house and eat black-eyed peas for New Years Eve? Hoodoo. Do you burn the hair cleaned out from your comb/brush and never throw it in the garbage? Hoodoo. You don't let just anybody touch/play in your hair period? Hoodoo. Keep your purse from touching the floor? Hoodoo? Throw salt over your left shoulder? Yeah. Hoodoo ways.

All these TikTok videos going around calling "Sinners" demonic for highlighting Hoodoo as a force of good (just like the discourse over Annie being a mammy figure) has shown me that Black folks are struggling with the misinformation about us as a people that has been perpetuated for centuries. I promise you, had Hoodoo been played with in the film as an evil force, Christians wouldn't have much to say because it aligns with their biblical-taught beliefs about so-called witches/mediums/spiritualists. It's why some are tripping out and calling Michael Bakari Jordan a devil-worshipper because he was given his middle name by a Babalawo. Can't make this shit up.

I love "Sinners.". I love how it loves Blackness and Black people. I love how it connects us to our roots through music, dance, and Black American folklore. (I hope the people who believe that Black Americans don't have a distinct culture of our own--several actually-- finally shut the hell up throughout the diaspora. You know who you are). I love Hoodoo practitioner Annie Moore played by the beautiful and insanely talented Wunmi Mosaku. She played the role with respect, reverence, and joy. I feel so seen by all the cultures I'm descended from shown in the movie, from the Mississippi sharecroppers to the Choctaw people, the blues, women like Annie, Pearline, and Mary. Men like Smoke, Stack, Delta Slim, Cornbread, and Sammie.

At this point, Ryan Coogler doesn't make movies. He creates time capsule moments that will reverberate into the future. I am eternally grateful to experience it while it's happening. My Hoodoo heart is happy.

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM SINNERS *  assorted dialogue from the 2025 film, adjust as necessary

i want you to promise right now.

i think that was the best day of my life.

was it like that for you?

you keep dancing with the devil... one day he's gonna follow you home.

drop the guitar, [name].

jump on the work. don't let the work jump on you.

if you don't mind, i'm gonna be late.

i've been working all week.

who are you, babe?

so tell me about chicago.

that's why we came back home.

figure we might as well deal with the devil we know.

don't move.

fuck that. it's gotta be tonight.

look at that sky.

you big enough to take me now, huh?

you keep your eyes open for anybody staring too long.

i'm gonna need you to come sit in this truck right here.

what can i do for you?

i'm trying to help you.

i was doing better before you shot me in the ass.

why are you paying for this?

how fast does this thing drive?

i can show you better than i can tell you.

i seen you somewhere before.

maybe i'll see you tonight.

don't look at her.

you know, i waited for you.

i am your way out.

there's some weird shit going on out here.

i'm married, by the way.

you told me you loved me.

i told you to stay the fuck away from me, too, but i guess you didn't hear that part, huh?

keep your voice down now.

remember falling asleep with your head on my chest, leaving in the middle of the night without a fucking word?

i drank it.

need you to give us a moment.

i'm gonna need you to show some respect.

i don't want your money.

you wanna make me say it?

i thought i could trust them, but they trying to kill me.

just don't let them hurt me no more.

have you seen anyone recently?

i don't think you should be here.

you making any money with that thing?

they hurt you?

so you'll kill for me.

why can't you just say that?

somebody take me in your arms tonight.

you're beautiful. i just want to taste you.

i think you're in the wrong place.

we'll be on our way.

you better enjoy the rest of the night.

i wish in my heart that we'd have met sooner.

we got us a problem.

best thing about me is you.

where the hell you been at?

i'm supposed to walk back?

can i at least get my money?

open up this door. let me outta here.

we're gonna find a way out of this, i promise.

you telling the truth?

they feel the same.

everything's gonna be all right now.

i'll see you soon.

sorry i couldn't keep you safe.

we are connected, you and i, to everything.

[neros-left-pec]

PLAYING INFINITY NIKKI WITH THE DMC MEN

🌷 pairings: dmc men x fem!reader 🌷 warnings/tags: just fluff + probably OOC 🌷 author's note: i have really bad dmc brainrot but ive never even played the games (don't ask how this happened) LOL. i kinda see these as crack hcs since im not actually familiar with their canon personalities but i hope u can enjoy it regardless!

NERO SPARDA

you've been gone for a huge part of the day, so he starts looking around devil may cry for you. he finds you at your desktop looking VERY engrossed with what you're doing

doing his best to not alert you, he sneaks up behind you. it seems a cute video game has caught your attention, and you're playing dress-up...?

"Wait, each power lets her use a new dress? How does she change so fast?"

thinks it's ridiculous at first, but similar to Vergil he gets weirdly addicted to helping you pick the best scoring combinations

unlike Vergil, he is not very good at it. but he will try his best

"Okay okay, go with the lace gloves, TRUST ME. It's tagged as elegance which is what you need."

like dante, he is convinced he knows what he's talking about, but definitely gets pissed every time his outfits don't work out

"What the fuck, this is impossible! I thought this game was for babies!"

no nero, this game is not for babies. you need to lock in.

one day, you surprise him by coming home in an outfit eerily similar to one he had made for you in the game last week.

gets very visibly flustered when he sees you model it.

it suits you incredibly well and is very tailored to his tastes, since, well, he was the one who made the outfit after all!

he saves up a bit of money and takes you on a shopping spree. he must see you in more outfits

YOU GUYS ARE PLAYING DRESS TO IMPRESS IRL!!!!!

side note but i feel like he would go crazy if he saw you wearing black high heels. he loves black on you

DANTE SPARDA

"So it's like dress-up... but with boss fights? Kinda kickass if you ask me."

he tries to help you pick an outfit but always makes the WORST combinations EVER. the outfits colors never match and he makes you wear ugly boots with a pretty dress or something lol

is convinced he is a master fashion designer

"Look at me, I'm adorable as hell!"

not really too interested in the game itself but he likes seeing how into it you get. you get very invested in the story and he finds it adorable. you have a simple heart and he loves you for it

asks you to show off your outfits

"C'mon, spin around. Pose for me, dear! ...Oh yeah that's very nice, I quite like it honestly. You've got some talent, huh?"

sometimes he thinks about how cute you would look in pastels and gets a bit distracted. his brows furrow, a soft blush dusting his cheeks as he hides a smile behind his hand.

with his mouth covered, it actually kinda looks like he's grimacing, which is hilarious. he'll often start daydreaming about you and get flustered. others will see him and think he's pissed off because of the tense expression. if only they knew about the big smile that was hidden behind his hand

VERGIL SPARDA

he does not understand why you are stressing about losing a "style battle," whatever that meant

he stares at your screen with his arms crossed.

"So foolish..." FOOLISHNESS, Y/N. FOOLISHNESS----

watches silently. secretly enjoys watching you get worked up over something so silly

you ask him for styling advice and using the clothing stats, builds you the most min-maxxed outfit for the style battles. quickly learned the numbers have to do with if you win or not. however, he somehow manages to make them also look gorgeous at the same time (IF YOU PLAY INFINITY NIKKI YOU KNOW HOW HARD THIS IS). he does it to make you happy since you hate ugly outfits

after a while, he gets kinda into it

"No, that shade of mauve does not go with the rest of the outfit... Even the most untrained eye would know that a lady's shoes must match with her bag."

YOU STARE AT HIM....

he looks to the side and walks away.

damn him!

secretly makes a note to buy you a cute ensemble to wear to your next date

he will get rid of the price tags and fold them into your drawers so you happen across them

he will never admit he bought it but you know it was him

and of course, he buys you a bag with matching flats/heels depending on your preference :)

[madebycloud]

pt 1 | The Devil in Heels

jinx/powder x female reader — 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬⠀𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: you dream of becoming a successful journalist, but first, you need experience. landing a job as a personal assistant for the editor-in-chief of riot magazine seems like the perfect opportunity… if only your new boss, the devil herself, didn't make your life a living hell. (or Devil Wears Prada AU that no one asked for) warnings/themes: eventual romance n smut, boss/employee, modern au, fashion & couture, miranda!jinx, andy!reader, pov switch, jinx is mean words: 3.7k — ✩ part one part two, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven

“To Jobs That Pays The Rent”

“Arcane publication, please,” you mutter to the driver as the taxi takes off.

You're stressed. Late, stressed, and in need of a job. The past few weeks have been nothing but job denials.

The driver glances back through the rearview mirror but keeps his mouth shut. Probably used to stressed people in a rush in the morning.

You look around the city from the backseat of the taxi, grumbling.

Five job interviews. Five job interviews in one month. All five were a disaster.

New York is a wonderful place for people with dreams—like you. Unfortunately, New York loves to eat dreams and spit them out. But you're not going to bend. You're not leaving this city and accepting failure. You didn't work this hard to give up so easily.

The taxi comes to a stop, and you pay the driver hurriedly and then get out quickly, sprinting across the pavement into the high-rise building. You look up at the building, with the words ‘Arcane Publication’ lit up in flashing, neon lettering. 

You walk towards the open doors and reach the desk, giving the person behind the counter a shaky smile. “Uh, I'm here for the interview for Riot Magazine?”

Their eyes never leave their desk. “Take the elevator to the forty-eighth floor. The front desk of Riot will assist you.”

Forty-eighth floor. You thank the front desk person and head towards the elevators.

—

Behind the reception desk is a logo that says ‘Riot.’

You walk over to the desk, taking the card from your pocket. “Hi, I have an appointment with Margot Vyx-” You're interrupted in the middle of your sentence by your name being called.

You turn and see a woman with pale skin and dirty-blonde hair. “Human Resources certainly has a weird sense of humor.” She sighs, her eyes looking you up and down.

You don't respond, shifting uncomfortably.

“Come on, follow me.” She turns, and you follow her down the hallway. “Okay, so... I'm Margot, and I was Jinx's second personal assistant, but her first assistant recently got promoted, so now I'm the first one and-”

“And you're replacing yourself,” you blurt out.

She gives you a dry look over her shoulder. “Essentially, yes.” She continues to walk down the hallway. “Jinx's last two assistants only lasted a couple of weeks,” she states, turning to the left and walking towards a large office area. “I don't know why you applied for a position like this, but we need someone who can—how would you put it... survive here. Do you understand?”

You nod quickly, trying not to stumble over your own feet as you follow her. “Yes. Of course. Who's Jinx?”

Margot whips around to look at you, her eyes wide. She looks like she's seen a ghost. Or an idiot. Probably that second option. “You did not just ask me that,” she murmurs, then shakes her head. “She's the editor-in-chief of Riot Magazine, possibly one of the best in the country. She's a legend.”

You blink. “A legend?”

“A legend,” she repeats. “And if you last longer than a year working for her, you can grab any other job you want. A million girls out there would kill to be in your position right now.”

She sounds serious. “Oh, great.” A million, huh? “I'd love to be considered.”

She opens a glass door and stops, turning to you with a smirk. “You do realize that Riot is a fashion magazine, right? being into fashion is a necessity.”

You frown, confused. “What makes you think I'm not into fashion?” you ask, but she only gives you an unbelieving look.

She opens her mouth to respond, but before she can do so, her phone dings. She pulls the phone out of her pocket and reads the message, and in an instant her expression changes, shifting from arrogance to outright terror.

“Oh my God,” she mutters, sprinting over the telephone. “No. No, no, no-”

“What's wrong?” you ask, taking a hesitant step closer.

She holds up a finger to pause you, grabs the phone, and starts muttering a string of words to whoever's on the other end.

Then, the office door swings open, and a man enters, carrying a box under one arm before setting it down on Margot’s desk. “But I thought she was coming at 9-”

“Her driver text-messaged,” Margot huffs. “Her facialist ruptured a disc.”

He looks you up and down with a raised eyebrow before shrugging and calling down the hallway. “All right, everyone! Man your battle stations!”

The moment those words are said, the whole office goes into a blur.

People who were sitting lazily in their chairs seconds ago are suddenly on their feet, desperately fixing their hair and pulling out lipgloss and mascara to apply frantically in front of their computer monitors.They run around, searching for anything that could be out of place. Empty candy bar wrappers are thrown away in a hurry. Unopened water bottles are shoved into desk drawers. Any stray pieces of gum are disposed of immediately.

What the hell is happening?

—

Jinx steps out of the back of her car, glancing up at the sun. She pulls a pair of black sunglasses off of her face, pushing her hair away from her cheeks.

She's wearing a black, knee-length, fitted dress that hugs her frame, exposing her collarbones with its low-cut V-neck... and all of it is black, black, black. The only pop of color in the whole outfit is the blue of her pumps.

She walks to the building, and the doorman stands straight-backed, opening the doors for her. “Mornin', Miss Jinx—excuse me, Miss Lane. Nice day.”

“Mmhm,” she murmurs, walking into the building.

Jinx has been in a shitty mood since this morning, when her facialist suffered from a sudden case of ruptured discs. That's right. Ruptured. Discs. Apparently, her facials were so good that she gave herself a back injury.

Which meant that she had to wake up early, get dressed, and drive to the office, all with a dry face. No facial. She'll probably go home tonight, throw on a face mask, and watch the first season of Breaking Bad by herself. Or drink. Lots of drinking...

She walks through the halls, heels clicking against the tile flooring. She doesn't bother to look at the employees as she walks past them, and she can hear people scrambling behind her to get out of her way.

Jinx reaches the elevator and presses the button, tapping her foot impatiently as she waits for the doors to open. It arrives, and she steps inside, crossing her arms as the doors close.

It was a pain in the ass finding a good facialist in this city. One that didn't try to talk her ear off about celebrity gossip or have hands like sandbags. One who knew how to keep her mouth shut and had hands that felt like clouds against her skin.

Finding a good facialist in New York is like finding a good man. Impossible.

She groans quietly as the elevator dings on floor 48, where the office of Riot is. She exits the elevator and walks down the hallway towards her office, the doors of her employees' offices lining the hallway.

Margot approaches her, and before she can get out two words, Jinx responds, “I don't understand why it's so difficult to confirm an appointment.”

The blonde hands her the clipboard and then starts stuttering. “I- I'm so sorry, Miss Lane.”

Jinx takes the clipboard, glaring at the paper. “What, did she break both of her legs too?” she says sarcastically, handing the clipboard back to Margot.

Margot doesn't seem to find it funny, biting her lip. She walks next to her, trying to walk at the same pace as Jinx, but she takes longer strides, and Margot has to keep up, otherwise she'll be left behind.

“Tell Jayce that I don't like the girl she sent for the Brazil spread,” Jinx continues. “Cancel those reservations at Cafe D'Sorelle... I don't know why I thought she could be a good restaurant critic for the magazine. Also, tell Scar I'm scheduling a new shoot this week. Oh, and confirm the dinner tonight, the driver knows where to pick Isha up.”

Margot swallows, nodding her head. “Of course, right away.”

Jinx steps into her office, tossing her purse onto the top of Margot's desk and walking past the woman who's sitting on the other side. She sinks down onto her large leather chair and gestures towards the stranger. “Who's that?”

“Nobody-” Margot begins, then pauses, realizing how that sounds. “Uh... I mean, nobody important. Human resources sent her up about the assistant job, and I was sort of pre-interviewing her for you-”

“Don't bother. The last assistants you sent me were absolutely awful. I'm going to have to do it myself. Send her in. That's all.”

Margot stares at her for a few seconds, then nods. “Yes, Miss.”

—

“She wants to see you,” Margot tells you.

You stand up, straightening your clothes and clutching your briefcase tightly. “She does?”

“Yes, move!”

You walk towards the woman's desk, but before that, Margot snatches your briefcase off your hands. “Hey!” you exclaim, “That's mine-”

“This is foul—don't let her see it,” she warns, taking the outdated briefcase and shoving it into the bottom of the desk.

You sigh and take another small step closer to the desk. The woman—Jinx, or whatever—looks up from her desk to stare at you. She eyes you up and down and tilts her head to the side. “Who are you?” she asks, leaning forward in her seat.

Who are you? Not hello there, not hi, not welcome. “Uh-” you hesitate, licking your dry lips. “Well-” You hold your chin high and say your name before placing your resume on her desk. “I recently graduated from The Academy,” you add.

Jinx leans back in her seat, picking up the piece of paper like it was garbage and briefly reading it over. “And what are you doing here?” 

“I think I could do a good job as your-” you start, but her glare cuts you off before you finish your sentence.

She sets the resume down, then picks up the magazine on the edge of her desk and casually flips through it. She doesn't bother to look at you.

Oh god. Not even thirty seconds, and she's already brushing you off.

You continue anyway. “I came to New York to be a journalist. I sent letters to everyone, and I finally got a call from Arcane,” you ramble, the words spilling out of your mouth faster than you can stop them. “So basically it's this or Tough Green-”

“-So you don't read Riot?”

“...no.”

“And before today, you had never heard of me?” she asks, her index finger dragging along the edge of the page, tracing the pictures.

“No.”

“And you have no style or sense of fashion,” she says, then flicks to the next page.

You're caught off guard by the bluntness of the statement. You have to resist the urge to look down at your outfit, but you're dressed fine. You're dressed fine. Well, at least you think you're dressed fine.

“That really depends on-”

“That wasn't a question,” she interrupts, her eyes finally lifting from the magazine to look at you.

Oh.

Alright. So you're no fashionista, but that doesn't mean you're a lost cause. You know, like, basic stuff.

You click your tongue and press forward. “I was the editor-in-chief of the Daily Northwestern. I won a national competition for college journalists with a series on the economic inequality in-”

She cuts you off again, flicking a hand like she's swatting a fly. “That's all,” she says boredly.

That's all?

Damn, now you're starting to understand why her assistants can't take this job. She's got zero patience. Plus, this woman is hard to impress. She's so uninterested. She just dismissed your resume and your qualifications. All of that effort you put into your resume, and she didn't even care.

This could not be, would not be, another failed interview.

You're not going to be working at Dunkin Donuts for the next five years of your life. You are not going to be another college-educated young adult working a minimum wage job. You are not going to be another one of the statistics.

You are good. You are smart. You are qualified.

You're tired of these assholes and their shitty attitudes and their shitty treatment of everyone because they're sitting in this stupid office with their stupid magazines and stupid high heels and shitty attitudes.

Instead of walking out, you step closer to her desk, placing your hands on the edge as you bend forward slightly. “Fine. You're right. I don't really fit in here. I don't know much about fashion, but…”

She raises an eyebrow, and you catch a smirk on her face, but you ignore it.

“But I'm smart, I learn fast, and I will work very hard,” you finish.

She leans forward, mirroring your actions as she sets down the magazine on the desk. “Oh really?” The smirk hasn't faded from her face yet. A good sign? probably not, but you can't back out now.

“Really,” you insist, keeping your voice steady. “Really, really-” you pause when the word fumbles on your tongue, “...really, really, really.”

“That's a lot of reallys,” she remarks.

“I'm serious.”

She stares at you for half a second then leans back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other. “Hm,” is all she says.

You're about to open your mouth to beg, plead, whatever it takes to get the job, when a voice appears behind you.

“We have an emergency.”

You step back and turn around to see the man from earlier.

He must be in his late thirties or early forties, with a slim frame and pale skin. His brown hair is neatly styled, but a couple of strands hang loose and frame his face, falling near his ears. A pair of thin-framed glasses rests at the tip of his nose. In his hand is a large booklet with the word ‘Riot’ written in white letters.

“What is it, Viktor?” Jinx asks, her attention no longer focused on you.

“The printer messed up the spreads again.” He steps over to the desk and places the booklet next to the magazine.

She rubs at the place between her eyes. “Let me see.”

You observe their brief exchange, how he's calm, how she's pissed. No one is looking at you or acknowledging you.

And you just... stand here. Just stood here, like a loser, waiting like some sort of damn dog.

You're not a dog, you're a human being, and you're getting nowhere. Might as well leave. This is... this is hopeless.

—

“Fucking hell.” You slam the apartment door shut as you walk in.

Zeri looks up from her phone, a bowl of chips in her lap. “So no job, huh?” she asks, turning off her phone.

You groan and drop your briefcase on the table. “No job.” You collapse onto the couch next to her, burying your face in your hands.

“It went that badly?” She shifts closer and sets the bowl down on the coffee table.

You sigh and peek through your fingers. “The woman is an absolute bitch. And she didn't even pay attention to the resume! I just stood there like a piece of furniture.”

“Well, if she couldn't see how awesome you are, then she's a moron.”

“Yes, Jinx Lane is a fucking moron.”

Zeri stares at you for a beat. “Wait, Jinx Lane? ...as in the Jinx Lane?”

You pull your hands away from your face. “Is there another Jinx Lane?”

“Well no, but-” She blinks a few times. “Like, that Jinx Lane? Of Riot?”

“Yeah, that's the one."

She grabs your shoulder and shakes you a few times. “Oh my God.”

“What?”

“You met Jinx Lane?!”

“That's her name, right?”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes-” She lets go of your shoulder and sits up, waving her hands wildly. “Jinx is a legend! You spoke to her! That's the editor-in-chief of Riot!”

You shrug dismissively and sink deeper into the couch. “Who cares?”

Zeri shoves you halfway off the couch, making you sit up. “Who cares!? Who cares?!” she exclaims. “Jinx is an icon. She's the youngest woman to ever become editor, and she's a legend.”

“Icon or not, she's rude.”

“Do you even know who Jinx is?”

“No, I'm still a stupid, uncultured woman.”

“Oh, hush, knock it off.” She nudges you with her foot. “You're not stupid or uncultured.”

“What, I'm just supposed to bow and worship her now?”

“Not that exactly, but,” she starts digging through the couch cushions, “at the very least you should... ah ha!” She takes out a magazine and tosses it, landing on your legs.

“What's that?” You pick up the magazine carefully.

“It's a copy of last month's issue of Riot. I was reading it earlier.” Zeri leans back, throwing her arm over the edge of the couch.

You flip through the glossy pages of the magazine, seeing beautiful models and beautiful clothing. It's not really the kind of thing you're into. You lift it up slightly and ask, “You're giving me a fashion magazine.”

“Not just any fashion magazine,” she says, “Riot. It's where all the big names are. Every model dreams of being in that magazine.”

“...uh huh,” you respond, setting the magazine down. “All over a magazine? really?”

“Shut up.” Zeri points at you. “Listen, I'm about to teach you something, so listen carefully.”

You look down at the magazine again and then back at Zeri. “Fine, fine. Spill.”

She sits up and leans forward, holding the magazine in her lap. “So basically…” she starts. “Jinx is the editor-in-chief of Riot, like I said. The magazine?”

“Yeah, I know what Riot is.”

“Good. Anyway, Jinx got the position from her adoptive father, Silco. She's twenty-two. It makes her the youngest editor-in-chief of a major fashion magazine.”

“Wow…” you mutter sarcastically. “What an accomplishment.”

She ignores your comment and just continues talking. “And she completely changed Riot's image from the boring, stodgy mess it used to be to a fresh, exciting magazine for the new generation,” she says, then pokes your shoulder again. “Which is a huge deal—a lot of people in the fashion industry hated her, because, you know, she's young.”

“So she's young and edgy. Huge deal.”

“Riot was a dying magazine, and Jinx turned it all around in like less than a year. When she first took over, everyone in the industry made fun of her and called her a spoiled kid. They said she'd ruin the magazine. And then she took it from an embarrassment to a money-making goldmine in like ten months-”

“Okay! Okay, I get it already.” You wave your hands in the air, signaling her to stop. “She's a legend of the fashion industry, yada yada. She could probably spit on a page, and fashion editors nationwide would have an aneurysm-”

“-That would totally be a cool trend, wouldn't it?” Zeri interrupts, then smiles at her own statement.

...

“No.”

She shrugs it off, and her smile fades. “But you understand what I'm trying to tell you, right?”

“She's some fashion god who turned a boring magazine into a big thing.”

“She's also incredibly influential and insanely wealthy.”

“Yes, I understand-”

“She's in her early twenties and is a millionaire-”

“Yes, alr-”

“And now, you—a normal and completely unassuming person-”

“-Woah, thanks.”

“An unassuming person,” she continues, “met her. You met the editor-in-chief of a major magazine and probably the most powerful woman in the entire industry-”

“I didn't even get the job,” you remind her.

“But you talked to her, and that's good. That's a good thing.”

“No, it's not-”

“But it is.” She cuts you off. “Even if you didn't get the job, the fact that you had an interview means something. Maybe not the job, but it definitely means something. She saw your resume and probably read it. She saw your face, you spoke words to each other, you shook her hand-”

“I didn't shake her hand-”

“It's the same thing! either way, it's a step in the right direction.”

You're about to retort and tell her that getting ignored in an interview isn't a step in the right direction, but you pause when your phone vibrates.

“Is that your phone?” Zeri asks, and you nod as you pull the phone out of your pocket.

You expect to see a notification from your spam folder. A sale at KFC, perhaps.

You don't expect to see a text.

Zeri grabs your phone before you can read it and begins reading it out loud. “First day-” Her words trail off as she realizes what she's reading, and then her eyes go wide.

“What?” you pry. “What is it?”

“...you got the job.”

You snatch your phone back from her. “I what?”

“You. Got. The job,” she repeats, slower this time.

You blink, reading the text. “I got the job?”

“Yes.”

This can't be right. You were just here, ranting about this woman and how horrible she was and how she didn't even give you the time of day.

And now you have the job.

“Holy shit,” you murmur, clutching your phone tighter. “Holy shit. I got the job.”

“You're working for Jinx Lane.”

There's a long pause, and then you nod. “I'm working for Jinx Lane.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god-” she squeals.

“Calm down,” you try to tell her, but she barely listens as she throws her arms around your shoulders and begins bouncing up and down.

“Oh my God-” she continues squealing as she squeezes you tight, making it difficult to breathe.

“Z, I can't—you're suffocating me-”

“Can you believe it?” she squeezes even tighter. “You're working for Riot. You're working under Jinx!”

Zeri is ecstatic, and rightfully so. This is a good job, a great opportunity. Even if it involved working under someone like Jinx Lane.

You force a smile and force your brain to pump out some sort of excitement, but it feels wrong. This could be an amazing opportunity… but it could also be the most miserable experience of your life.

“Yeah... great,” you mutter, patting her awkwardly on the back when she finally relaxes.

The next few months are going to be hell. This job better pay for your therapy sessions.

[syddsatyrn]

Omg your requests are open. I've seen some of your work and it's amazing❤️

Can you do a smut with Lucifer. He's become my new obsession.

⛧Idle Time is the Devil's Play⛧ By Sydd Satyrn

⛧Pairing: - Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

⛧Warnings: Shameless smut, fingering, swearing, fluff

⛧Words: 2.5k

⛧Notes: This was actually rather fun to write, thank you for the request! My head canon in this one is that Lucifer wears reading glasses.

The day started out on the wrong foot from the second you woke up. The dishes are piled up, laundry needs to be done, and how is there so much dust in here?! Nifty does her best to keep up but she's only one tiny person. You begin with the dishes, stack and stacks of plates and bowls, cups and flatware cover the counter. You let out a sigh of disappointment. After working for a short while, Angel Dust walks in with a surprised look on his face. “I thought you were dating the King of Hell, why are you wasting your time with chores?” The tall spider asks, holding a stack of dishes from his room. “Angel, I work here. I don't know how many times I have to tell you…” You reply with an eye roll. “Yeah, yeah, Charlie’s dreams, blah, blah, motherly nonsense. I’m just sayin’ you could totally slack off and get away with it.” He says, placing more dishes on the counter. You give him a side eye, and Angel laughs. “Chill out toots, I’m just playin’.” He says and heads back to his room. He’s right, you could slack off if you wanted to, but you felt the need to try for Charlie. You and Lucifer have been dating for a little over 6 months and within that time you’ve become rather fond of his sweet daughter and her dreams to rehabilitate sinners. So you took on a role at the hotel and did what you could to help make it possible. You wanted to impress Lucifer's daughter, maybe one day she might even see you as family, if you’re lucky.  You finally finish the dishes and take a step back and admire your handiwork. A clean sink, and counters, all the dirty dishes are now washed, dried and put away. It took a good chunk of the morning but it was worth it. The kitchen looks spotless and you decide to move onto the next chore. You tidied a few empty rooms and then delivered clean towels to each room with an occupant. You’re already running out of energy and it's only noon. “You look like you could use some coffee.” Husk says from behind the bar while wiping down the countertops. “You read my mind, Husker.” You say and take a seat at the bar. He pours you a cup of black coffee and sets it in front of you. “Thank you, you have no idea how much I need this.” “Don’t mention it” He says and returns to his countertops. Husk may seem grumpy all the time but you’ve come to know him as a rather genuine and helpful person.

You drink your coffee slowly and contemplate what you should do next. There are so many chores that need to be done, where should you even start? Nifty should be cleaning the bathrooms or taking out the trash by now. You decide to start dusting next, it shouldn't be too hard. 

After dusting the common areas, you begin on the hallways. You start at the top floor and work your way down. You hum quietly to yourself while wiping the window sills. As you turn a corner, you run into Angel Dust, and spill dusting spray all over his jacket. “Shit!” He says while wiping his jacked off with his hand, Angel looks frantic and upset, you’ve never seen him so scared. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?!” You immediately apologize. “Y/N, I can't find Fat Nuggets anywhere! I took my eyes off of him for one second and he disappeared! My poor baby!” Angel says, clearly in a state. He looks like he might even cry. It’s gonna be okay, we just…need to split up! I’ll head downstairs and you stay up here.”You say, trying to remain calm. Angel nods, and you both go your separate ways.

You search all the rooms on the first and second floor, the lobby, the bar, and even the basement. There is no sign of the little pig. You were sure you would find him rooting around somewhere in the kitchen but still, no Fat Nuggets. You notice the back door is slightly ajar, you definitely didn’t use that door when you were down here earlier. You open it, expecting to have solved the mystery, but still nothing. You lean against the wall and let out a defeated sigh. “Dammit, Fat Nuggets, where are you?” You say out loud. Suddenly there is a rustlin noise inside a tipped over trash can. You lift the lid and inside is a very happy looking little pig. You scoop him up and give him a big hug, he must have gottens stuck out there looking for a snack. As you carry Fat Nuggets upstairs you hear a shriek of joy coming from Angel Dust. “My baby!” He cries as you hand him over. “Don't you ever leave my side again!” He says, baby talking to the little pig while giving him a snuggle. “I owe you one, Y/N.” Angel says with a smile. “Dont worry about it, I’m just happy we found the little guy.” You gently boop the little pig’s nose. —------------ As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of pink and orange across the sky, a sense of tranquility settled over the hotel. The warm glow of the fading sunlight painted the walls in soft, golden hues made the place feel somewhat serene. Finding Fat Nuggets took up the rest of your afternoon and you were feeling unusually exhausted. 

 You head down to the lobby and see Nifty cleaning up the last of the dusting you did earlier.

She greets you as usual. “Good Evening, Miss Y/N! How was your day?” She pauses her cleaning and stares up at you with her single cyclops eye. “I am so worn out, Nifty. How are you?” You return, smiling down at her tiny figure.

“I’m okay. There aren't as many bugs in the hotel to squish anymore so I’m getting pretty bored.” You smile at her, Not entirely sure how to respond to that statement. She always says the wildest stuff, but you’re used to it. Alastor says she's always been pretty quirky. “You should go spend time with your boyfriend.” Nifty teases,”I’ll deal with the rest of the chores.” “Thank you, I could really use a break. Today was a mess.” You say with a sigh of relief. After walking down the long, lavish hallway to Lucifer's room. You open the door slowly, you don't want to wake him if he is asleep. The King is already in bed wearing nothing but a robe and his reading glasses. The lamp next on the bedside table is the only source of light in the room. The blonde haired man is reading a book and glances over at you when he hears you come in. “I was wondering when you’d be here.” He says with a smile on his face. He closes his book and sets it on the nightstand along with his gold rimmed glasses. “Sorry I’m late, I’ve had a really long day.” You admit as you sit on the edge of the bed. “Oh? What did you get up to today?” He asks and crawls toward you. “There was a lot to do around the hotel today, a mountain of dishes and so much cleaning. Like seriously, where does all this dust come from?! Then Angel lost Fat Nuggets and he was outside…” You ramble on and Lucifer listens intently. “Fat Nuggets?” Lucifer chuckles and cocks his head to the side. “His pet pig.” You remind him. “Oh, I see…” Lucifer places his hand on your cheek. His warm touch sends shivers down your spine. He pulls your face closer and kisses your lips gently. Your heart flutters and you kiss him back, blushing slightly.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here now.” Lucifer laughs, knowing exactly what he's doing to you. “Sounds like you need some time off. I notice you do a lot around here, you shouldn’t wear yourself out like that.” “I just want to show Charlie that I support her dream and believe in her.” Your words make Lucifer’s heart swell, the fact that you are trying so hard to impress his daughter is quite possibly the cutest thing he’s ever seen. He smiles at you, his expression full of love and admiration. You return his smile, your face bright red. He pulls you in for a tight hug, burying his face into your hair. “You’re doing just fine, my love. You can let up a little.” He whispers in your ear, “You should let me take care of you for a couple days.” Lucifer's voice is sticky sweet, you can see why Eve was so easily swayed. You melt into his arms and he kisses the top of your head. “I know exactly what you need…” Lucifer days, his voice laced with a mischievous tone. “Do you…?” You ask and giggle at his bold statement. He reluctantly lets go of you and takes off to the bathroom connected to his room. You can hear him turn on the faucet to fill up the tub. Lucifer walks out of the bathroom a few minutes later, he grabs your hand and pulls you close, his eyes half lidded. He kisses your cheek and wraps his arm around your shoulder. “Come with me, my dear.” He leads you to the bathroom, the tub is filled about half way with warm water. The room is filling with steam and the lights are low, a few candles are lit. The ambiance is warm and charming just like he is. Your eyes widen and you feel Lucifer hands tug at your clothes, silently telling you to take them off. Your face feels hot as you start to remove your clothing, piece by piece. You leave them in a pile on the floor, trying your best to keep your composure. “I have to admit I wasn’t expecting this…” You say, Lucifer smirks, pleased with himself and your reactions. He removes his robe, revealing his perfect body. He steps into the tub and turns to you.

"Well, are you coming or not?" He teases, you take his hand and slowly get in the tub with him. He sits behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you just a bit closer. Together, you both leaned back against the edge of the tub, letting the warmth of the water soothe your weary muscles. The stress of the day melted away, you could feel your muscles relax, you lean the back of your head on his shoulder, breathing him in.

"See? Isn't this much better?" Lucifer purrs in your ear.  

You nod and let your eyes close. You can feel him kiss your temple and you can't help but smile. “I definitely needed this…”You murmured, Lucifer's hands begin to roam your body, his hands trace down your arms. 

"You have the most beautiful skin...I can't help but touch it." He whispers and kisses your neck, you sigh softly. "And you always smell like vanilla, I adore that..."

“You flatter me, Lucifer.” You reply. He kisses the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. His hands begin to massage your shoulders, "Are you cold?" He asks, noticing the goosebumps forming on your skin. With gentle hands, his fingertips traced delicate patterns along the contours of your skin. In the hushed ambiance, time seemed to slow, as if caught in the embrace of the moment. “No, I’m fine.” You assure him.” You’re just really good with your hands.” “Is that so?” Lucifer says with a playful tone. He can barely contain himself, the way your body responds to his touch is fascinating to him. Lucifer's hands travel lower down your torso and gently cup your breasts. You hum softly and push your body closer to his.

"My, you're a needy one tonight, aren't you?" He chuckles and runs his thumbs over your nipples. "I think I know exactly how to help you." His hands travel lower and lower until they reach your core. Your breath hitches and your face turns a bright shade of red and Lucifer notices. "Is that okay, my love?" He asks, making sure he's not overstepping his bounds.

"Y-yes, it's more than okay.”

Lucifer's fingers explore your folds, teasing and prodding. His movements are slow and deliberate, as if he's trying to memorize every inch of your body. You gasp as he enters a finger into you. You moan softly and your back slightly arches. "That's it, my love, just let go, let me take care of you." The King’s tone is lustful and alluring. Lucifer adds a second finger and starts thrusting in and out, his thumb rubs your clit. He moves his fingers faster and harder. “Luci…fuck…” You swear followed by another moan, the pleasure is overwhelming. You can feel him smile against your skin, his hand working wonders between your thighs. You bite your lip and whimper, gripping the edge of the tub. Lucifer bites the tip of your ear and quickens his pace. “That’s it my dear, are you gonna cum for me?” Lucifer groans and pushes his fingers deeper inside you. You let out a whimper, a feeling of warmth growing deep within your core. Between the steam from the bathtub and all the stimulation you start to feel a little dizzy. Lucifer groans and buries his face into the crook of your neck. He focuses back on your clit, his middle finger massaging little circles, picking up speed with each second that passes. You can't stop the moans from escaping your mouth, the pleasure is too much. You can't hold back any longer and your body is rocked with wave after wave of pleasure. Lucifer's fingers move slower, helping you ride out the waves of your orgasm. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your face is bright red. Lucifer pulls his fingers out and wraps his arms around you, hugging you tight.

"Are you alright?" He asks, kissing your neck. You nod and completely relax into Lucifer's body. You lay in the bathtub together, his fingers caress your arm, he presses another kiss to your temple.

"I think it's time you got some rest." He says, barely above a whisper. You both get out of the tub and Lucifer wraps a towel around you.

"You're absolutely perfect." He says with a grin and kisses your nose. You smile at him, continue to dry off and wrap your hair in a towel. Lucifer loans you a pair of his silk pajamas, they are just slightly too big for you. But all that does is add to how comfortable they are. You lay in bed next to him, the covers pulled over your shoulders. He pulls you close and runs his fingers through your hair.

"So, tomorrow you will do no chores, no errands, just relax and take it easy.” He says, with a slightly demanding tone. You lay your head down on his bare chest and he picks up his book. “Yes sir…no chores…” You murmured against his skin. “He chuckles, "Good girl. That's what I like to hear.” He praises while putting his glasses back on. You're exhausted from the day and can barely keep your eyes open. Before long, you fall asleep in the arms of your love, ready for a trouble free day tomorrow. 

[r0-boat]

For last night's stream we streamed a cute little dating sin called "I JUST WANT TO BE SINGLE!!"

It was a game cast of mostly girls even the MC and it was very cute.

As you may not or may already know I have a challenge where every after stream I do I make a drabble or headcanons or any writing based on the game I've played! And since the dating sim was very generic at school transfer student I thought I would do the same with WHB!

So enjoy being the human transfer student at an all demon school.

What in hell is bad? Seven Kings X transfer student

Whb high school AU

Mammon's Dad is alive, Solomon is your father these devils are younger than in the Canon games. Strictly an AU for fun silly purposes. All people are adults I don't specify if it's a high school or a college, but if it helps you sleep at night it's college. Solomon is one of those cool teachers that every student loves, Solomon isn't the best father but he is trying.

Cw: very silly, sfw but suggestive, cliche, some mention of sex because of you know who.

Intro:

What the fuck???

Three words screamed into your mind as you look on at the building that was supposedly your school It looked less like a school building and more like a castle. It's even look like the universities all your friends got accepted in. It looked more than that. Like how we would picture a top college like Yale or Harvard would look like if you've never seen or even heard of it before.

You knew that mysterious all expenses paid scholarship was a bad idea. But it wasn't a prank fine print was fine print. And the icing on the cake. Your father Solomon I would never home because of work was the one who sent you the letter.

Whatever they saw in you must be damn good to be able to get a fucking scholarship and a school that looks like this. The courtyard was utterly deserted signaling that everyone was probably already in their classes. You sigh as you walk over to the huge gated fence slowly and struggling to push the giant iron Gates open enough for you to squeeze by. Seriously who the hell are these gates designed for prisoners?!

But as soon as you stepped through the door this school was a different place entirely. It looked so orderly and clean on the outside but on the inside... It looks like a war zone. Cracks and holes in the floor boarded up windows with broken glass scattered about. The place wreaked of cigarettes and weed and alcohol. Just what kind of school was this??

You would soon get your answer when you stepped into your classroom. Handsome yet dangerous looking men stared at you sharp teeth sharp eyes and even sharper horns that adorned their head.

Devils?!

As the teacher also a devil with a tail that fully moved in such a way that you ruled out the possibility of it being fake introduced you.

"This will be our first human transfer student in a long time! And from then on... You're peaceful school life would never be the same.

Satan

Captain of devil's football (cavalry as they call it), His seating is at the back of the room, and it just so happened that next to him was the only open seat. He stared at you intensely with a scary look, with those red eyes piercing into your very soul. Your heart is pounding as you turn over with a timid smile. "H-hey..." But the devil said nothing as he continued the stair. It was like this for a while until he finally said, "yer a human right?" The word stumbled out of you immediately: "Yes!" The devil studies you for a second but a smile widens as he points "I know you! Your Mr Solomon's kid!" Hearing your dad's name you whip your head around "What? Solomon? You know him??" Satan's toothy grin goes wider "fuck yeah I do He's awesome! I never knew you had a kid though! I wonder why...." You didn't know what else to say if your dad was here you natural you had an urge to go see him when he turned to certain age to be on your own he showed up less and less so it was really hard to get into stay in one place. But Satan's energetic words cuts off your train of thought "You're definitely not going to survive here!" You must choked on your own spit. Yeah no shit Sherlock You kind of known from the moment you walked in but still it was just a shocking to hear it from someone else. "Oh yeah especially since your Solomon's child! Everyone's going to be drooling over you. Nah fuck that I'm going to protect you." He grinded his teeth at the mere mentioned And he just decided this instantly no rhyme or reason not that you think anyway. And he was true to his word a lot more than you thought because they were way too many devils that Satan had to show away That being said he didn't even like his own teammates getting too close It kind of sucked if you wanted to make new friends but I guess having scary dog privileges does help if you want to avoid not so nice people. In your short time of knowing Satan you've learned few things One of them being he had a short temper and once he blew his top he exploded like a volcano. Out of sheer anger he picked up a desk and hurdled it at a devil smashing the wall in process. Now you can see why your classmates called him "Lord of Wrath."

Mammon

You met him when he saw a crowd in the schoolyard. You've had extra free time to kill since Satan's desk-throwing stunt blew a hole into the wall of the classroom, which means an hour of free time. The group of devils gathered Drew your curiosity for you to come closer. When you pushed through the crowd you saw a man sitting on a bench He was sculpted like a rugged a mountain His muscular arms folded His legs crossed with a smirk on his face You finally were able to focus on the words they were saying "Lord of Greed something I want to buy but I can't afford-" , "say no more... Say the amount and you may have it"

"Lord of Greed those rings look so gorgeous where did you get them?!"

"Oh these cheap things? Meh the solid gold can't remember how many carrots off the top of my head but if you want it knock yourself out... They're not the best in my collection and honestly been wanting to get rid of them for a while." He looked so casual just taking off a gold ring and tossing it to the devil who asked as if these rings were worth mere pennies to him. That's when his eyes fell upon mine. His smile widened as he scooted to the right opening a seat for me "Oh? You're that human. Come sit with me." As all eyes were on you in an instant peer pressure crushed under your weight like a styrofoam cup as you shuffle toward him as if he was a god and you were a mere peasant.

As soon as you sat down his He leaned back and forth his eyes sculpting you just like a certain devil this morning before saying. "Hm... I like you, You're mine now."

"Excuse me... " You didn't realize you said it out loud until the devil chuckles "I said I like you and I own things that I like... I think humans call it 'relationship' I'm not really familiar with human courting. But you are mine now and I guess That means I am yours too." The group of devils around you too eyes widen like saucers. You had no idea what's going on as the devil's around you whisper material wealth, money,richest person in the world, jealousy This was all going so fast your head was spinning This was the second devil today that just decided that they liked you for no reason at all.

"say... What are your plans for lunch today?" You didn't even get a chance to open your mouth before he talked over you "whatever they are cancel them. You will be having lunch with me a five course meal made fresh by my father's personal chefs." You wanted to talk to say something You didn't even get a word out of your mouth when arms wrap around you and suddenly your transported in other place entirely.

Leviathan

An empty classroom with nothing but desks the same cracked walls a bottle of what you assume is alcohol have has really thrown on the floor and sitting on the desk staring at the window a man with a princely pretty looking face hair with a pearly white color that was mesmerizing to your eyes. But when you turn to look at you that color was all but mesmerizing as he looked at you with pure disgust. "You..." He snarled as he got it from his chair. Making strides toward you You were terrified but you stood your ground Even as he grabbed your face that made you flinch forcing your head left and right. Your eyes squeaks shut before putting your hands on him and pushing him away. He clicked his tongue and snarled. "Weak and annoying pitiful humans and you dare to be related to Solomon."

That struck a nerve. All day you've hadn't said a single word and this devil insulting you was the final straw.

"at least I don't have the personality of a raccoon with rabies your breath smells worse than the garbage you ate this morning."You snapped back at that moment you regarded little for your safety of what this devil could do to you No one talks to you or your family like that. Especially not assholes like him. The devil's eyes went wide for a second only to scrunch back up and click his tongue. "Just watch your back human..." He hissed storming up the classroom. First day and you made an enemy Great.... You definitely can't wait to get bullied by demons.

Beelzebub

You met him on the way to one of your classes getting chewed out by a teacher. You couldn't know but watch as the man with a single horn just nonchalantly leaned against the wall as the teacher went off on him: "You're the future Lord of Abyssos... You have to take this seriously! You're missing a lot of classes....!!!" But to the Lord of Gluttony, all this information went in one ear and out the other. When the teacher finally stormed off that's when he realized you had eavesdropped way more than you should have. When your eyes met, He smiled and pulled you into the room.

"hey haven't seen you before...hmm... You're Solomon's kid right?" He said his arm wrapped around your shoulder as he leans near your face. " Um yeah. " You just accepted that probably every person in the school knows now.

"Hell ya." Please smile before something seemingly distracted him That's when he held the back of your head and leaned your head in burying his nose and your hair. Instinctually you pulled back. " Sorry sorry It's just, wondering where that smell was coming from so I thought I'd take a sample from you." with his arms still around your waist He got up from leaning against the desk walking out of the classroom dieting you God knows where. "One thing about devils. Is that if we like something we like to get 'intimate' with that thing. " He smirked and the way the word intimate rolled off the tongue major eyebrows furrow. You're not quite sure what he meant by that and honestly part of you is too scared to ask. " Where are you taking me?" You said half wanting to change the subject. "Cafeteria where else?"

"But it's not lunch?"

"pft so?" Beelzebub chuckled as if you were worried about skipping class as a mere funny joke. "You worry too much. You're Solomon's kid. The teachers won't do anything, trust." Even though You are the kid of someone who apparently was extremely popular in this school and left a bad taste in your mouth to know you were getting special treatment. And you were practically being yanked along by this random devil, so you couldn't really do anything well, not if you worried about your safety. You still remember Satan hurdling the desk like it was nothing.

Lucifer

Remember Leviathan well unlucky for you he remembered you. When Beelzebub was taking way too long to get simple drinks to bring back to you to the empty pafeteria You decided to say fuck it and just walk back to class. And does he walk through the empty hallway you stopped and that's when you saw him. His scowling face made your heart drop.

Here is a fun fact about devils you learned when you just tried to turn around and walk away. They know magic as a tendril coming up from seemingly nowhere wrapped around your neck and yanked you backward toward him when his hands grabbed your shoulders. He yanked you and slammed you against the lockers, pinning you, his face hovering over yours. "I saw you hanging out with those other dimwits... "You're not sure why, but you know exactly who he was talking about. " Someone like you shouldn't be around people like them. He hissed as you felt his fingers dig into your shoulders as he pinned you harder and harder against the lockers. When you tried to lift your arms to push him, those tendrils returned, wrapping around your arms and slamming them against the locker. His hand slid from your shoulders to your waist. And now you're confused... "You're just a weak human remember that." He got close to your face grinding his teeth before using his limbs to throw you to the side.

It wasn't until he was gone that you noticed The pain in your wrist and blood dripping from the cut. You sigh as you decide to take a trip to the nurse's office if the devil's even had one.

They compared this school's other rooms to those in the disaster state. This one seems clean, untouched... Dare you say professional? The only one working was a baby blonde-haired man sitting at a desk, spinning around a pen between his nimble fingers. When he looked up he noticed the blood dripping from your wrist he shot up before you could even say anything He gently takes your hand. "Your hurt. come with me." Wrapping a hand around your waist guiding you to one of the beds in the nurse's office as if your cut was more dire than it was when he sat you down he immediately grabbed the bandages and started to wrap you up.

"You're the transfer student aren't you?" He asked which you only nodded. "Nice to meet you, I'm Lucifer I believe we share one class together?" Wow an actual introduction, All day you've gotten no introductions all their names you learned by word of mouth or other devils introducing them for you.

"Oh." Slipped from your mouth with more surprise than you wanted to, and Lucifer's Stern face curled up slightly. "Thought I was a teacher?" You just nodded your head. "I get that a lot. Not many students come here since they're all devils, so I got this place for myself. I don't even think we have a nurse; I'd hate to see anyone get hurt. " Huh That's sweet. From what you had been witnessing all day something like this was definitely a rarity. When he was finished wrapping your wrist he saw you out as quickly as you came in.

Belphegor

It wasn't even the end of the day yet and you were being yanked in every direction by everyone in the school devil's flocked to you looking at you with curiosity or hunger (You're not sure which one it was)

So you escape to the only place you know, where you constantly come up when you know you can be away from people. The rooftop. As you walked closer to one of the benches to sit down and eat, you failed to realize someone already held that spot who was sleeping soundly until he woke up with a yawn and a stretch. "Hrm?" He hummed, rubbing his tired eyes and looking at you as you just stood there frozen in place with enough awkwardness to kill a man. He pointed at you. "You c'mere." He said his voice low and husky. He made the motion with his finger. From your experience with being dragged around all day, You probably shouldn't accept this man's request as, knowing your luck, you would just get dragged into more drama or trouble. But you did interrupt his nap, and all things considered, he didn't look like he was in too much trouble. So you stepped closer. He left the bench next to him, and since there was nowhere to sit, It was your only option. As soon as you sat down, he laid back down, his head resting on your lap. Turning from his back to his side, he muttered, "You're comfortable. Stay like this fo'me, Would ya? " He asked you to fall asleep instantly. You don't know why, but this touched your heart, kinda a moment of tranquility as you place you eat your lunch, gazing at the world below. You were surprised to know how fast he went to sleep. Knowing your luck he was probably another Lord, And you could guess he must be the Lord of sloth. You know you shouldn't, but you couldn't help it. It's not like he would wake up to you running your fingers through his hair, reveling in how unexpectedly soft his locks were. Out of the hellish day you dealt with this, it was nice.

And it only got worse once lunch break actually rolled around as that's when Beelzebub Mammon and Satan saw each other and realized that they were after you as well to spend their lunch together.

Fun fact that you learned about devils when you had the displeasure of seeing your two classmates making out in the hallway while every student ignored them. Devils have no sense of shame or a lack thereof. They just do whatever they want when they want, which explains why the school rules about alcohol, weed, and other miscellaneous drug substances you have found throughout the day were so Lax. And another fun fact you learned about devils... It is that they are very territorial, apparently. You saw it first hand, as when Beelzebub wrapped an arm around you, Satan puffed up and hissed like a cat as he ripped him off you. You were lucky you escaped the scene, as when Mammon made a comment about How short Satan was, He exploded and tried to lunge at him.

Asmodeus

Was it too late to drop out??? You thought it was the end of the day, and you were beyond exhausted. And these lords did not stop either. You thought you could meet up with your dad if the bell rang. You wish you could call him, but sadly, that was off the table since your dear father had little to no interest in Mobile technology. The only one he ever had was a flip phone just to get a phone number. You swore a phone call with him was like torture as you had to listen to more static than his voice. Other devils told you and confirmed that he had his own personal office somewhere. If it wasn't for the big ass school, you would have been okay with trying to find his office, but sadly, you were already wandering around the school to stop now. When you walked by, you noticed the janitor's slightly open call. When you got closer, you snuck into the closet, and your eyes widened. A devil, no two devils... No three?? It's getting a little hot and under the collar in there. Grinding and bugging their hips against each other when you accidentally made a noise, the black-haired devil who was sandwiched between the other two noticed your presence. Your soul jumped out of your skin as you ran as fast as you could in the other direction. If he was another Lord, he was 100% the Lord of Lust, and you wanted nothing to do with him. But it seemed like he wanted everything to do with you as you kept wandering around the school, trying to purge that memory from your mind. You felt arms wrap around you. You shrieked and jumped backward turning to notice a familiar face. His smirk and disheveled clothes and hair shivered up your spine as your trembling voice fell from your lips. "Oh, it's you... What do you want?" Asmodeus giggled. "My, aren't you cute? I've never seen someone look at me with such frightened disgust."

He was practically undressing you with his eyes. Eye molesting... Whatever it was you didn't like how he looked at you. "Never in my thousands of years has someone looked at me with such... Such a 'curious expression.' You're Solomon's spawn? " At this point, so many devils have asked You throughout the day you just nod your head now in acceptance.

"I knew it. You even have his gorgeous eyes. And his sexier features that I've always admired from afar. "

What the fuck, please don't fuck my dad!? You screamed in your head. But since he was talking to you maybe he could tell you where he was since it looked like he would know a little too much "Do you-Do you know where he is?"

Their smirk only widened as he pulled you close against him. His body pressed against yours. You ground your teeth to stop from screaming as he whispered into your ear. "I do but what's my payment? You don't seem to have any on you..." He said his hands rubbing up and down the sides of your body. Before you could do anything else, you probably beat the shit out of him like you used to do with kidnappers when you were a kid. He pulls away and laughs like what he did was the funniest thing in the world.

"I'm just kidding sweetheart, You just look so cute I couldn't help but tease you. Yeah his office is on the next floor It has a purple rug can't miss it."

It's like the stress left your body as you sighed. You gave him a smile before leaving, but when you turned around, you swear to God you heard him say, " I think I'm in love..."

Bonus

You have to fight off tears when he mutters your name in a broken string of sentences, dreaming of the past when you were in diapers. You took his coat hanging from the chair and draped it over him before leaving his office

When you finally saw his office and walked inside, it looked like an old antique shop as all kinds of knick-knacks and antiques decorated the old wood shelves, and on his desk were stacks of paper, and your beloved father was caged between all those papers. Now you understand why he's always so busy as he was passed out on the desk. You are upset that you didn't get to talk to him, but you would probably get the chance tonight as you are living with him now, you understand. You never knew your mother, and to take care of you, He had to move out of the house and into an apartment, working his ass off day and night just to keep a roof over your head.

[usagi-chwan]

Period, the devil's invention (BSDxFem!Reader)

🌸 Characters in this chapter: Kunikida, Chuuya, Ranpo, Sigma and Fyodor.

🌸 Spoils: none! Knowing who the characters are is enough to be able to read their parts.

This chapter had already been started when a reader asked me exactly the same thing: what the BSD characters do with a feminine reader having her period, in this case a rather painful one. As a result, the reader is female!

I wish you an excellent read ~

Kunikida

- With a simple trip to the nearest convenience store, he brings you everything you need, and everything you are going to need at one time or another... You may not be able to understand how he can predict so accurately, but Kunikida has to keep a few mysteries to himself, otherwise his name would not be Kunikida!

- Normally, he is not the last person to pick up what you need and bring it back to you, as Kunikida is a very helpful person (to the people he likes, though...). He will buy anything you ask for straight away, without a second thought, especially when he sees you writhing in pain like that.

- He knows all about menstruation and pain relief, perhaps better than you do.

- A handy little trick with him: he is able to remind you regularly (at just the right moment, incidentally) when it is time to change your tampon or pad. He is like clockwork when it comes to that sort of thing!

~

Chuuya

- Seeing you writhing in pain mortifies him, but unfortunately there is not much he can do about it... At least, that was what he thought at first.

- Because he has found a more than useful use for himself: to hell with the hot water bottle, because HE's the one who has replaced it. He will hold you in his arms, on the sofa or bed, snuggled up close to him, so that you can enjoy his natural warmth and get a little relief.

- He do not hesitate to take some time off work during the first few days of your period, so he can be close by if you need him, even if you assure him that everything will be fine even if he is not there.

- He will run to the nearest store (literally) to buy you anything you need, and to adapt to your cravings at the time (e.g. if you want to eat something in particular), and he will also make frequent trips to the pharmacy to buy you more effective relief.

- But, generally speaking, he does not leave your apartment much when you are having your period or when you are sick. He wants to be close to you in case of need or problem!

~

Ranpo

- He does not understand why you should continue to have those famous periods if they are so annoying for you. After all, you do not need to have them if you do not want a baby, do you....?

- But he still manages to find a use for them: it gives him an excellent excuse to miss a bit of work, or even to go shopping for sweets and chocolate...

- He has read somewhere that menstruating girls like to be taken care of, and what could be better, too, than a little something sweet to soothe them? (And who's to say Ranpo cannot nick a few sweets along the way, after all?).

- Still, he is not unsympathetic to you at moments like these, which are anything but pleasant for you. He lets you rest your head on his lap, while he sits on your shared sofa, gently stroking your hair. He still knows how to be gentle and personable when the situation calls for it, don't you know!

~

Sigma

- Is able to drop whatever he is doing or has to do if you ever need him. Basically, he can come to your rescue no matter how busy he is; your well-being is his priority in life, after all.

- He knows all the things that make you feel better (hot water bottles, etc.), and if you want a cuddle, all you have to do is ask! If you want something special to eat, the casino's cooks will prepare it for you as a top priority, and with the finest ingredients, please!

- In short, you will be treated like a queen, even more so than usual.

~

Fyodor

- Maybe a bit like Ranpo; he cannot really understand how simple period can cause so much pain, and maybe even wonders (without saying it out loud) if you are not exaggerating a bit...?

- But seeing you in so much pain makes him a little more gentle with you, and it is one of the rare moments when you can hug him almost indefinitely, without him saying anything.

- One thing's for sure: Fyodor and cuddling do not go hand in hand! At least under normal circumstances. Well, maybe... Fyodor is such a complicated character after all, and I am not sure he understands himself in all circumstances...

[tavs-adventures]

Raphael Liking You Includes . . .

The son of Archdevil Mephistopheles in love? Absolutely Impossible. After all Fiends, Devils, and Cambions don't have souls. They don't feel. And yet...

You're one of Raphaels favorite Patrons. He couldn't tell you how it happened, he's not sure he really wants to know. All he understands is one day you went from being someone under a contract to actually being someone he cares about and is careful with.

In truth he knows when it happened. He knows exactly how and why but for now he can pretend because that's easier. That's easier than admitting his real feelings and facing rejection. He's the Prince of Hell he doesn't feel emotions like Love. Only Lust.

Raphael enjoys your Magic Lessons together. Your spareing sessions. Apart of your Contract was a piece of his power for a family artifact you had that he wanted for his collection. As a Warlock, your power in part comes from him. But unlike most of his pacts you knew what you were doing. The artifact you had was the real deal and it was worth something to Raphael which means you were worth something to him. So you didn't sell your soul and you carefully worded your contract to work in your favor. Your cunning, your occasional cruelty, and your creativity are what drew him to you. You were not like the others and Raphael did love a good chase.

He doesn't remember the details on your original contract. It's changed so many times now with him adding things that don't benefit him but do benefit you. Raphael whether he wants to admit it or not is now at your beck and call. Not that you ever over use your abilities to summon him or ask to be summoned despite having that power. And even if you did he likley wouldn't complain. He likes the pull he has on you, the influence you hold over him. He finds it exhilarating.

You spend a lot of time in the House of Hope in-between the Jobs Raphael gives you and the Adventures you go on in your free time. Infernal has long been a second tongue you're comfortable speaking. And bartering with the Prince is just your version of flirting, a Cambions love languae really.

As a Mortal and Morally Gray but not Outright Evil person, some of the practices you've observed in Raphaels' home do bother you. You've definitely felt sick in some of the rooms, but after a year or so, you now know which hallways to avoid and what spaces you like to occupy when Raph is busy or gone. (If anything truly made your skin crawl or your stomach upset Raphael would erase your memory of it and hide that part of his House from you. He doesn't like when you flinch from him or when you seem to focus on his more Infernal Nature)

Raphael inspires too instill fear in all his pacts. But with you, he finds it far more amusing to see your passion, taste your fire, and feel your fury. Your relationship is unconventional but also unconditional despite stemming from a contract. You have far more privileges than any of his other pacts. He hasn't said it outloud yet but it's obvious he likes having you around.

The Prince of Hell is a Walking Furnace. Cambions run warm in general, but he is especially hot. His touch does not burn unless he wants it to and in your contract it clearly states he can't burn you. Whenever your cold (when hell freezes over appretally isn't just an expression) he takes your hands in his and carefully warms them. The act is surprisingly intimate and you have to fight a blush every time he does it.

He likes touching you. Something about your presense, your touch soothes him. Hes never felt this way before and he doesn't want to admit it so he finds casual ways to touch you outside of Sex. Adjusting your stance during sparring. Grabbing your arms during magic lessons. Holding your hands in the Hallway. Kissing your face, your neck, any exposed skin. Biting. His more gentle acts of affection and wanting your attention somehow always make you end up in the Bedroom.

Haarlep is your only friend in the House of Hope. While Raphael has many servants he trusts none of them around you. When his Master is away the Incubus is a rather funny Infernal being and does his best to keep you entertained. He keeps you from the more unsavory pieces of his Masters House wanting to shield you from them (He was Ordered too by Raphael but the Incubus doesn't find your suffering enjoyable as he does with others). The Incubus follows you around the House of Hope, keeping you company as he tells stories about his Master to make you laugh. The sound is a soothing balm to those in the Home as when you're in a Good Mood Master is as well.

You enjoy gossiping with the Incubus. Hearing his stories of the Hells and how he came in service of Raphael. Spending hours pillow talking and giggling as he holds you waiting for his Master to come back and join. You help Haarlep with his shape shifting, picking and chosing appearences and creating characters for him to seduce others with. He likes using his Incubus magic around you, loving how your eyes widen in awe when he changes shape. Or how you learn to copy some of his magic to change clothes and makeup at your command. He's more than happy to teach you spells and even a few surprises for Raphael.

Haarlep gives you tips about things Raphael likes in bed and when you need something from the Cambion you have more than a few tricks up your sleeve because of your helpful Incubus. Raphael knows you playfully plot against him with his favorite Servant but he finds the antics amusing if a bit ambushing at times. You're a very convincing minx

With Haarlep often taking his Masters form Raphael has ordered that the Incubus is not allowed to touch you in a Romantic way unless Raphael is there. Sometimes the two of you will follow The Princes wishes for something new and exciting in bed but you have a mostly platonic friendship with playful teasing and occasional light flirting. Haarlep genuinely enjoys your presence and finds your visits both amusing and entertaining. He asks you about your Adventures and is much more interested in your personality than your body.

Everyone in the House of Hope is aware of you, even if you aren't aware of them. From the newest members of his service to his eldest you are a talked about point in the House of Hope.

Raphaels favorite is something often whispered in the Haunted Halls of the House of Hope. At first you were just another pact. But then the Master began touching you outside the Bedroom. He began giving you things outside your contract. With you dressed in Rich Fabrics, showered in Expensive Jewelry, Freely given powerful Relics and weapons, and Dined and Wined with only the most luxurious of Foods. It's easy to see why you'd be called that.

There is jealously and resentment, it is Hell. But Raphael has it written in all his contracts you are not to be harmed and every Debtor in his collection knows better than to do or say anything remotley insulting in your presence. You are unaware of this, Raphael never mentions it and his Staff is to afraid to ask. If it ever is brought up he simply says you are his to torture. Though he only ever brings you bliss.

With free Reign of the House of Hope you often wander in and out of the Rooms you know are safe. Raphaels domain is practically your second home. You walk through the Ballrooms which always seem to have Music, Explore his endless libraries to gain forbiden knowledge, Paint in his Art Room, Play instruments in his Music Room, Spar in his Training Room, Peak into his private offices to see what he's working on, and Slip in and out of his Entertainment rooms. You tend to stray from his bedroom unless you're in the mood as once you pass that threshold it becomes a long night of passion. The guest room you claim in his Home always mysteriously disappears whenever Raphael wants to be intimate with you.

As a Cambion he enjoys scratching and marking what is his. Leaving his presence on your skin through various means. Your neck is often covered in hickies and love bites showing his ownership of you. At the beginning of the relationship he never wanted your mark on him but as time went on he began to like being marked as well. Haarlep often teases him about this.

Raphael enjoys whispering Infernal poetry in your ears. He lusts after you, but he is also a Romantic. A passionate lover he calls it. Dramatic you tease back. The Hellish language burns hot like flames licking your skin and always leaves your chest warm. Speaking it back feels like magma rolling off your tongue but when he shivers you know its worth it. When he kisses you he often whispers words of affection between each kiss, his lips pressing to your skin with a sort of reverence a Cambion shouldn't possess.

He enjoys Dancing far more than he should. And serenading you. Taking your hand and spinning you around the marbel floor of one of his Ballrooms while singing of your passion and unconventional union. You tease him about being a Bard in another life. He teases you about being a Devil with the way you tempt him so.

Every kiss no matter how soft and tender feels like he's trying to steal your breath away. The longer the relationship lasts the more heartfelt and meaningful every kiss feels like. The less possessive and more protective he becomes.

He's protective of his Relic Collection as it's something he often admires and shows off. Raphael realizes how in love he truly is when you break something on accident and his first thought is, are you okay and not is the Relic alright?

It scares him one night while your in his arms, his true form holding you when he realizes how deeply he's fallen for you. He thinks of his precious Relics and how he would give every single one of them up for you. The Prince of Hell can't deny it any longer. As his wings wrap around you and his lips kiss your temple he realizes how in love he is and how you hold his heart.

Raphael begins carrying a ring in his pocket the next Day with your favorite gems.

When you get hurt it's not an exaggeration to say all Hell breaks loose. He can handle a papercut or something similar but anything close to a battle wound? He stopped sending you on Missions ages ago for that reason. If it happened on the surface your never leaving Hell again. He's dragging you to the House of Hope to heal you and he's changing your contract and having you sign it. He's hoping you don't look at the new clause about Marriage but if you do the Cambions always been one for contracts and dramatics anyways.

[formylovetodaryldixon]

"DARYL DIXON—MASTERLIST."

Hi! This is my masterlist of all the imagines I wrote here. Thank you so, so much for the love my stories are getting♥ I'll do my best to keep writting good stories for you. — Vi. (They are posted from last to first) Hope you like them!

Series:

"Like there was no tomorrow.” Daryl Dixon promised himself, the night he let you go, that he would always love you, like there was no tomorrow. But when you come back into his life, you’re sure you won't fall for him again. However, even against your wishes, he will stay close to you, protecting you from getting hurt or worse, because a life without you is unimaginable. Now, like a roller coaster of emotions, you have to face your confusing feelings in an apocalyptic world, until you finally decide what the hell you expect from life, besides the chance to live one more day.

And when a little girl shows up in your lifes, she may be the path to a safe place you two can finally call home. But, will that be enough to be together? Or will the past be too much to survive the storm?

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

"Paper Cuts." Prequel to "Like there was no tomorrow" Before a new world covered in blood rose up, you lived an ordinary life, working an ordinary job, being an ordinary person, until your path crosses with Daryl Dixon. He's hurt, always hiding his emotions because they used to spill over dangerously, but it's funny how two broken people can complement each other, to the point of forgetting why you two suffered in the first place. But between meeting each other and breaking up, there was a life that was worth living even with pain in your scars. Because now you know that the important thing about being alive is to live, even with those paper cuts on your skin that sometimes feel like bullet wounds, but those that, at some point, will no longer hurt at all.

Intro Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

One shots:

"Without you." As the two of you navigate the mysterious and sometimes turbulent waters of falling in love, the devil in angel's clothing threatens your life, managing to keep you quiet. Until Daryl finds out...

"I'm with you." Figuring things out on your own is still a bad habit of yours, but Daryl is there to prove you that he's with you now, that he can do those things with you, too, or for you. However, when he finds out what Spencer did during a party, your husband isn’t happy at all to know someone dare to put their hands on you. (light smut)

"Now and forever." Your life together is paused with a fight a few hours before the dead start walking, and it forces you two to embark on a journey through that new world apart until Daryl and you reunite with the fall of Woodbury.

"Flower." Daryl has been looking for ways to propose to you. However, something simple but meaningful is always best.

"Daryl Dixon: NSFW alphabet." Daryl Dixon's version of the NSFW alphabet with you meeting each other since the beginning.

"Daryl Dixon SFW alphabet." Daryl Dixon's version of the SFW alphabet with you as a couple.

"A little hope." When the city turns to ruins, life outside is like a roller coaster of emotions during the coexistence with Daryl Dixon, but having a little hope can be the beginning of something better.

“What it means to me.” After Daryl separates from you, Sasha and Abraham, he tries to find his way back to the person he considers his home. But, in the midst of his fight to survive, the ring he’s been hiding for a while is taken away, but that ring is more than just a ring: It's the only promise he can make to you, that he will love only you.

"His only one." You are his only one, he told you that the day you got married, that's why you don't mind the neighbors' blatant flirting with your husband, but the third time's the charm, and at that moment, you make clear to her that his ass belongs to you (literally)

"You are." To Daryl, you are different, you are special, you are everything. But when his jealousy over a "prank" from your friend leads to a misunderstanding you can't resolve, and an incident the next day that nearly costs you your life, it causes Daryl to have a huge revelation about his feelings for you.

"Fight or fight." The Dixon brothers know there are only two options when faced with a problem: fight or fight, but maybe that lesson isn't such a bad one for Marley when she tries to defend her friend.

"Until I found you." You always felt lost, adrift, until you found him. Oddly enough, Daryl always felt the same way, until he found you. From the moment you two met until your life together in Alexandria—quite a story.

"One of these days." For you and your husband, trying to find the right time to have a little fun is not always so easy.

"Marley's stickers." After returning from a supply run with stickers for his daughter, Daryl is no longer sure if giving them to Marley was a good idea when he finds his crossbow covered in them, especially when he has to leave again with his group.

"Stay with me." When an old trauma begins to hunt you down again, Merle ends up telling your husband the truth, your deepest secret.

“When you finally came back.” After escaping from the saviors, Daryl and you finally meet again to stay together this time. And there, alone, your husband gives you a letter that perhaps expresses a little of what you mean to him. (light smut)

"On a snowy day." On a snowy day, Daryl's daughter tells him about an interesting conversation between you and Aunt Maggie, but Marley ends up spilling the beans to Carol too about her daddy's worst fear.

"Make you happy." Daryl reminisces about the day you two got married, when you found out you were pregnant, and when Marley was born.

"Like gravity." A recap from when you and Daryl met until he said he loved you.

"Karma butterfly." The actions we take produce their corresponding results, good or bad. And that's what happens with Spencer when he decides to play the bad guy against you and Daryl after you two decide to move in together in a house like the married couple you were before the apocalypse.

"A whole new world." For Daryl, it still feels like living in a whole new world with his daughter by his side, but in the hour that he is left alone with Marley, Daryl proves he is the best dad ever.

"The way to heal a heart." When his heart can’t stand the pain of a loss, you discover why Daryl ignored you all those days. But there, you tell your husband the way his heart can heal.

“Russian roulette.” The game of killing or dying was too much for you after Richard was about to use you as bait, so you left to not be part of that life. However, it happens that you have a husband who is an excellent hunter, and who swears to you that he would burn everything in his path until he finds you. (light smut)

"Catching the fox." Jesus only caused problems since you, Daryl and Rick met him during a run, but that doesn’t prevent you all from having a little fun. (Even if you come home empty–handed)

"The truth - Part 1." For the first time in his life, Daryl tells Carol the story of how you two met. "The truth - Part 2." Alone in the place you always loved, Daryl finally tells you the words he always wanted to say to you. But, will he finally be able to propose to you?

"For life." Daryl tells his daughter about the day she was born (And she asks him an awkward question)

"My everything." A sleepless night after your and Daryl's baby was born.

"Like a roller coaster.” Marriages always have their ups and downs like a roller coaster. Even in the midst of an apocalypse, Daryl and you play a game until the situation gets a little out of control, but in the end, the only thing you two are sure about is that you have each other to keep living.

"The little spoon." During a night of drinking, you let Maggie, Glenn and Carol know that Daryl likes to be the little spoon.

“In your eyes.” The truth can easily be seen in the eyes of the person you love. That night, Daryl saw in your eyes how much you love him. But the next day after Aiden tried to attack you, Daryl knew who was responsible for the cut on your lip without you saying his name.

“Scars i would live with.” Daryl wonders why you don’t touch his back when you two make love.