#devil dom

[aberrantred]

I can be your devil,,, that's all I can be. That's it. I'm your devil. You will find no salvation here. But if you're a good slut, I'll let you grope my tits through the agony.

[privitivium]

angel devil w/ devil crush rambles/hcs, nsfw

only physical devil attribute mentioned is a forked tongue (not used for scenting ), no particular devil, no mentions of makima.

cw;; noncon touching, lingerie, overstimulation, subbot angel :p

he didn't appreciate how outward and expressive you were. being part of the same division and all, of course you had to make conversation like a good guy, right??? but you werent the good guys. why are you treating everything like its so unexplainably awesome? to put it simply, he didn't like you. that much. however, there was still a small amount of like, trust. he's just ,,, shy in an awkward, apathetic way,,, he does commend you for not being so ignorant most of the time. more insolent, rather.. he thought your time spent on earth would be used well to be a more refined being, but clearly not...

"don't touch me." he would hiss, having grown used to not interacting with other devilsㅡespecially not used to one touching him.. you both took on a relatively human form, so it gets a little startling everytime you touch him.. you seemed to take it a little seriously, however;; seeing as his powers had no effect on you... your touch began lingering a bit longer than usual. you were a bit of a nuisance as he saw it. constantly poking at him, taunting and teasing... a bit annoying is all. "but i'm lonely." you'd complain, huffing. pulling away just to moodily cross your arms over your chest - he would roll his eyes, trying to ignore you as he tries to let himself relax.. not doing anything in particular, merely standing in existence..

and, to put it simply, you liked him. loved? or.. had a crush on him as someone, a kind human, had explained to you the feelings that you felt while meandering around him... you were one to explore your body, as it were natural. finding whatever captured your fancy - or rather, which thoughts made you flustered enough that blood started rushing toward your groin. incredible! first boner, as a human, in a human body, ( eons ago? )... it began to ache after awhile of merely staring at it after it risen,, body uncomfortably warm.. and then; exploring your body until you were trembling and seeing stars... you wanted to share this with angel, wanting him to feel the wondrous pleasure that you felt as it was notorious for couples. but could there be more?? you ask around, none of the other devils comprehending what you were trying to get at, until you asked a few humans at the library who directed you to books on human anatomy and pleasure... amazing! admiring him for the time being..

ㅡ"who is she?" angel points with his eyes, shamelessly toward the young human woman behind the counter of the small store, who seemed a bit too giddy for his liking. his grip on your hand tightens, just a smidge.. you smile widely and flick your forked tongue outward, cheekily - "she's a fan! can you believe it? she likes me..." you would say, hand squeezing angel's right back and beginning to swing your conjoined hands back and forth, a woman who was interested in you.. "she's my friend, lets me come around after everyones gone!" a human friend? are you kidding? keeping his distance by your side, staying away from the smiling woman,,, a disgusting feeling in his gut, feeling a bile in his throat and wondering why you were so interested in human culture such as this, as he lets himself admire the clothes hanging up on the wall in the dim lighting, hand still entwined with yours.

ㅡ"don't worry, we don't need supervision, angel.." you hummed gleefully, dragging him by the hand down the relatively empty street;; no one to gawk at you, that is for certain. having a particular interest in humans fashion, you decided to share this with angel.. whether he liked it or not. as he begrudgingly followed you, unable to pull his hand from yours,,, "where are we going?" he would question, a bit apathetic yet ever so curious as he stealthily admires the downtown area.. really, no one is around.. even at the time of three in the morning? it's a little unbelieveable, knowing how wreckless humans can get during these hours.. but he isn't one to immensely question everything..

"woah, look at this..!" you flaunt a piece of fabric that practically looked like white string on a hanger, excited as you look over at angel. excited to share your interest, is all. totally not to see him in .. whatever it is you're holding.. "don't you wanna try it on? it's so you!!" and then, promptly showing off your body after you dragged him into the dressing room, happily;; the woman busy at the front desk, going over her employee's schedules, definitely not going to bother you..

ㅡbody naked, stripped down to your flesh and dick promptly dangling inbetween your legs as you stood in front of angel, partially facing the mirror while you try and work out the damn mess of fabric. angel, shamelessly letting his eyes rake over your figure. the thought of we shouldn't be here echoing throughout his mind as something warm settles underneath his belly, his cheeks.. set aflame. you began posing in front of the mirror, a bit silly.. in a black, sheer mess of lingerie, before you were helping angel undress to get into something you picked out - all for fun, you tell him, lingering touch along his shoulders and arms.. hrmm.. something like that.

ㅡexploring angel's body in the comfort of your room of your tiny apartment provided by the higher ups. he was a little weirded out by your affinity of magazines with naked humans and tapes stacked by the TV and.. toys strewn about - catching his gaze, and immediately explaining to him what they were for,,, "pleasure," you simplified, giddily as angel takes the time to admire what each little gadget does... only having a few tapes and magazines only for practice, not for material for masturbating as one would think.. often using the image of angel sitting proudly on your girth, taking it with ease,,

a little nonchalant as you explain to his sobbing, writhing form, abdomen coated in his cum and the tip of his cock darkened red in comparison due to the apparent overstimulation you accidentally put him through after jerking him til he came twice in a row.. a little uncaring and utterly happy as you smile over him; fingers dipping inward just underneath his sack,, trying to follow what you saw on those tapes between those two guys... "yeah, you gotta make sure you're all nice and stretched so it's easier for me to slip in... it might be a second." since he was..,, tight. having a bit of a hard time of piercing him with your well-lubed up finger after merely circling his rim, giving him time to react before you began scissoring him - he cries outㅡfidgeting, trying to relaxㅡa high-pitched noise that was melodious. fingers pumping in and out, dutifully. quick, fast, eager to be inside him and feel the way his walls feel around your girth rather than your digits.,, he commends you for your interests, as you graze against his prostate with your digits.,,

ㅡ"aren't these bodies great, angel?" you'd marvel, grinning as you feel yourself pulse inside him; breathless and marveling at his bare frame, so tiny in comparison to yours.. trying to make out what he was saying through his choked up voice and tears that you lean over and kiss away - his lips following yours before he grabs your face with his dainty hands, cupping your cheeks gently while shoving his tongue in your mouth messily, obviously having no idea what he was doing and simply doing what he felt was right... so pretty, you'd marvel, weirdly keeping your eyes open as you makeout, keeping him stuffed with your cock while you tangle your fingers in his light, dusty red hair.. he seemed to like it; the way he began tensing around you and trying to grind downward with a soft whimper,,

ㅡthe next time when you're out and about, he isn't too hesitant to hold your hand. it feels good, he realizes this like a magical epiphanyㅡin human bodies, so it's technically the same as touching... othersㅡand is sure to take advantage of it by constantly touching on you somehow! "isn't it.. great?"

[brayneworms]

closest to heaven that i'll ever be.

featuring. angel devil x gn!reader.

synopsis: angel's first time with you.

word count. 2.1k

content. smut, MDNI I CHECK, loss of virginity, crying, consent checks, d/s tones, sub!angel + dom!reader, gender neutral reader, guided masturbation, pet names (little love), we fuckin with gloves on, aftercare (it's brief but it's there), lmk if i missed anything.

notes. this originally had kobeni and aki in too but angel's part got way longer, so i'll post them separately :3 reqs are open btw so go ahead and req anything, just check my rules first ty.

"This is stupid."

Angel stares at you balefully; beyond the light flush adorning his pale face, he looks distinctly unruffled, no change from his usual apathetic demeanour. He sits cross-legged on your bed, arms folded, shoulders stooped. You pause in drawing the blind, tilting your head.

"What is?"

He throws you an irritable look. "This. The—this whole set-up. Why pretend when we both know the truth?"

You pull the blinds to, cutting the view of your bedroom off from wandering eyes below. The room stays lit with rosy lamps and projected stars, filtering through Angel's auburn hair. "And what truth is that?"

Angel scowls. "I can't touch you. So. What's the point."

"There's more to sex than that," you say matter-of-factly, secretly delighting in the way it makes Angel's blush darken. He rolls his pretty eyes, hands twisting in his lap. What little sunlight that isn't trapped by the blinds illuminates off his hair like gilt.

"Even so," he mutters. "It won't feel the same. It won't be... good. For me, or for you."

"How can you possibly know that, little love?"

His brows knit at the nickname, and it is a little much, but it feels right in any case, and you like the way it ghosts off your tongue, like the way it makes Angel's eyes droop. Still, his reaction invokes an interest in you, and you perk your head up.

"Have you tried? Before?" you inquire, moving back over to the bed. You sit, crossing your legs, keeping a safe distance—but Angel retracts himself all the same, recoiling back away from you and tucking his hands out of sight. You suppose it must be instinct by now, after so many years living in a body undesigned for love.

"So what if I haven't," Angel mumbles. "Doesn't take a genius to figure it out."

"Humans have a saying—don't knock it 'till you try it."

"Humans are weird," Angel says flatly.

"Even me?"

"Especially you. This is tiring me out..."

You whap him on the shoulder. "Nono, stay awake! Okay, let me—okay. Just tell me, 'cause it's the only thing that matters... do you want to?"

Angel stiffens; behind him, his wings curl into each other protectively, the feathers ruffling as though offended. "W-what?"

"Like, just tell me." You fidget, slightly awkward. "I won't judge, obviously. You've heard more than enough embarrassing shit from me from the bottom of a bottle. So... have you? Thought about it?"

"About what?" Angel stares at you like you've grown a second head, but the flush on his face is darker than ever, wine-red and brilliant against the parchment print of his skin.

"Fucking me," you say bluntly, knowing there's zero point beating around the bush with Angel. He sputters, body tense like he's about to spring off the bed. "Or touching me. Or me touching you. Have you thought about it? Do you want it?"

"I—I..." Angel's mouth works soundlessly for a few moments, eyes wide and more awake than you've ever seen him. Then, unexpectedly, his whole form droops; you feel cold water wash over you, followed immediately by panic. "What's it matter? Like I said earlier, I can't... you can't... just stop making me think about it."

"Humans," you say quietly, "are more resilient than you give 'em credit for. 'Specially me. Cleverer, too, I think, 'cause back in whatever century some genius fucker came up with an invention that changed the world forever. Wanna know what it was?"

Angel stares at you, bewildered. "Uh..."

From the waistband of your sweats, you draw out a pair of gloves. They're on the thinner side, just shy of sheer, black. Expensive, woven from fine cotton. More than you'd ever spend on yourself. But for Angel, you can indulge, you suppose.

"Gloves," Angel deadpans.

"Gloves!" you repeat cheerily. "'Cause, yeah, maybe I can't touch you with my hands. But I... thought... I could touch you with yours."

Angel blinks rapidly. "I—I don't understand."

"Can I show you?" you ask quietly, and he makes a choked noise in the back of his throat, small and needy. After a few tense moments, he lifts a shoulder in a would-be careless shrug.

"Do as you please," he mutters. "Humans are so stubborn..."

You giggle and sit back, spine pressed against the headboard, and cock your legs out so they're straight before parting them. Angel looks quickly away, face aflame, but you pat the space between your thighs encouragingly. "Sit here? If that's okay. It'll make it more comfy."

Angel regards you warily. "You're eager to die, huh?"

Behind the petulance is worry, the sort he's never been good at dressing up, the sort he loathes that he has in the first place. You tilt your head, gaze soft, you hope.

"Nothing's going to happen. I"m all covered up, see?" You wave your arms quickly down your body, clothes from throat to toe. "Just have your head against my chest and it'll be fine."

Angel chews at his lip for a moment, torn between, you think, spurning you for your idiocy and accepting human touch for the first time in God-knows-when. Eventually, you suppose, his selfish side wins out; he turns around stiffly and lowers himself to lay against you. His hair splays out against the comfy spun cotton of your hoodie, and you wonder if he can hear your heartbeat. You can feel the tension in his shoulders through your clothes and skin.

"There you go." Your voice slides into an unintentional low murmur, and Angel shivers against you, wings beating at your ankles. "You comfy?"

He nods, barely perceptible. Not seeing his face clearly is a little frustrating.

"Can you tell me?" you say, gentler than usual. "Just, you know. So I'm sure."

Angel huffs. "If I wasn't, I'd put my hand under your shirt and kill you. Even though that would mean a lot of paperwork, I'd do it."

"Okay, okay. So, um—can I? Touch you?"

Angel squirms. "I—I guess. If you're going to, then fine."

"No, little love. Tell me." You lower your head, putting your lips as close to his ear as you dare; it's still enough for your hot breath to stroke over the sensitive skin there, judging by the shiver that racks through Angel's body as you murmur. "I mean really tell me. Tell me where you want to touch yourself, where you want me to touch you."

"I—hn." His voice is starting to get a little strangled the further out of his comfort zone you prod him. "Why do you have to say such stupid things?"

"'Cause I like you," you admit, a little stiltedly. "I wanna... make you feel good. So. If you want to stop, we can stop."

"I—I didn't say that," Angel mutters. "I... you're close."

"I am." A pause. "Is that okay?"

He fidgets. "Yeah, I guess. It's fine." He pauses, then sighs. "I mean, it's nice. If that's what you wanna hear."

"Only if it's the truth," you say.

"It is, okay?" Angel sighs. "Okay. I... want... I want you to... touch me."

"Okay," you say, a touch too eagerly. "Okay, little love, can do. Where?"

"I—God." Angel buries his face in his hands; you can see the backs of his ears poking through the waterfall of tawny hair, singing scarlet. "Anywhere. Everywhere. I—hn."

You can feel your heartbeat in your throat, palms clammy through the gloves. You lift one hand up and cup his face, feeling the thin line of his jaw, the warmth of his blanket of hair. Angel tilts into the touch unthinkingly, and you swear stars explode over your eyes.

When your other hand comes to rest at his hipbone, just over the jut of his waistband, Angel jolts.

"Here?" you ask, and he nods. You slide your hand over his stomach; his warmth is dulled by the fabric of the glove, but it's closer than you've ever gotten. You can feel everything that matters; the contraction of his muscles as he breathes in and out, the inclination his body has towards your touch, the xylophone of his ribcage singing with each quick breath he takes.

Your hand travels up, slowly, marking a railroad up the pale skin, smoothing over his sternum, ghosting over a nipple. At the contact, Angel gasps, back tensing against your chest as he arches into the touch. You feel him pebble through the cotton, and he squirms, twists his face to hide in your shoulder.

"There?" you whisper, and he gasps out,

"Yes. I—yes. More, there, more—"

He's so sensitive. You suppose it comes from a lifetime of never being touched. You can't imagine how lonely it is. You would've gone insane a long time ago. Your fingers circle over his nipple and then the other, 'till he keens, brows knitted together, mouth open in a small 'o', 'till the fabric of his trousers becomes noticeably strained.

"How about here?" you ask, fingers ghosting at his belt.

"You can't," Angel grits out. "It won't—with the glove, it'll h-hurt."

"I know, I know," you coax soothingly. "It's okay. You wanna touch yourself? I'll watch. It's okay."

Too far gone, you think, to argue like he usually might, Angel gets his hands out from fisting the bedsheets and shakily paws at his belt. There's the pop of a button and the sigh of a zipper, a 'V' of pale skin shrouded with wisps of auburn hair before he's pulling the fabric clumsily down to his ankles, boxers and all. You feel your breath stick in your throat like glass at the sight of him.

His whole body is trembling as he takes himself in his hand; the first experimental stroke has a shuddering breath tumbling out of him, the next a pitchy moan, so ethereal that it makes your skin raise in goosebumps. Angel collapses back into your chest, sweat sticking his hair at the temples, spine squirming against his rutting hand. His long legs twitch against yours, one tangling around like a snake, hooking your ankles together like holding hands.

It's so achingly sweet you could cry. When your hand wraps around his, forcefully slowing his pace, he whimpers out a broken-sounding noise, and your heart flutters.

He's so perfect. So gorgeous. It's a crime you can't touch him for real.

But for now—this will do. This will more than do.

Angel turns big eyes towards you, round as pennies, brighter than ever with fervour and the beginnings of tears dampening his long lashes.

"Is this okay?" you ask, and Angel nods like his life depends on it.

"Yeah," he gasps. "Yes. Want you to—h-hah..."

"What?" you ask, picking up the pace again. Angel writhes, free hand flying up to grip at the fabric of your sweatpants. "Want me to what, little love?"

Your thumb swipes hard over his tip, and Angel makes a high noise like a piano with its strings cut. "O-oh, oh, please, please I'm so close, I'm so—I can't, I feel so—hah!"

"It's alright," you assure him, heart thudding. The whole display has heat surging in your lower abdomen, but you can't think about that, it's about him, your Angel, it's only about him and tears break over his lashline and trickle down his cheeks as he gets closer to his peak, breathing becoming strained and ragged, and he's hot against you, filling you with a burning heat.

"I can't," Angel says wetly. "Hn, hnn, help me? Please, just—do something, I can't—"

Wordlessly, you push your free hand under his shirt again, circle his nipple before taking it between your fingers and tweaking, and Angel's whole body locks up; his back curves, wings twitching almost independently of the rest of his body, legs kicking at the mattress, and he sobs out as he comes, a pitchy wheezing broken sound that's going to live under your bones for the rest of your life.

He collapses back against you, totally spent. You do him the quiet mercy of tucking him away and pulling his slacks back up, buttoning them about his waist as he makes a face of discomfort. You run a tissue over his hands and stomach, mopping up his spend quickly before nudging a bottle of water against his lips. They're full and rosy as they lazily take the nozzle in, sucking absently like a drunkard going back for another swig.

"Was that okay?" you mutter, and Angel scoffs tiredly.

"Mmmn." He turns on his side, digging his face into your stomach. "It was... nice. I'm too tired to return the favour, though."

Fondness beats through you like a heartbeat, slow and syrupy. "It's okay. There's always next time."

Angel's wings flutter in tandem with his eyelids. "Mm," he agrees with a low hum of exhaustion. "Next time."

He's dead to the world within the next few minutes, breathing against your abdomen; as he sleeps, or dreams, or whatever it is devils do, his wings cocoon the both of you, like he's trying to keep you safe even in sleep.

[captain039]

Devil in training

Raphael x devil!reader

Warnings: age gap, swearing, devil things, tension, sexual, possessiveness, smut, teasing, jealousy, brat reader, 18+, self touching, self exploring, reader has just been made, but is an adult and knows stuff lolol, innocent reader

Your surroundings were hotter than usual, your body was hotter than usual. You opened your eyes staring at the deep red ceiling with intricate patterns adorning it. You tilted your head in confusion, where were you? Who were you? You sat up glancing down your body, what were you wearing? A beautiful dress.

“So you’ve awoken” you jolted at the sound of a voice something behind you shuffling. You frowned glancing behind you seeing two red bay like wings.

“They’re wings little mouse” the devil in front of you said, devil? How did you know things and not know who you were?

“Who are you? Where am I? Who am I?” The questions tumbled out and the devil rolled his eyes.

“So my father just gave you knowledge of everything else, but a name?” He scoffed, father?

“Oh delightful” you frowned seeing another devil behind him, one wearing a lot less making you gulp. He held a smirk looking extremely similar to the well dressed devil.

“A new play thing” the almost naked one said.

“No” the nicely dressed one said sternly.

“No fun” the almost naked one sauntered over and you backed up.

“Back off” you snapped wings flurrying in response.

“Oh, feisty I do so love the feisty ones” he chuckled before the devil behind him snapped his fingers and the other devil was gone. You stuttered seeing some smoke left in his place.

“Raphael” he said bowing slightly.

“Uh” you gulped trying to flicker through your mind for a name before you said it.

“Hm, come up with that just now?” He chuckled and you glared.

“I had no other choice!” You snapped as he repeated your new name.

“Good” he said and you felt a tingle go up your spine.

“Now, why are you here little mouse?” He asked, did he just ignore the fact that you now had a name?

“How am I supposed to know?!” You yelled and he raised an eyebrow.

“Loud aren’t you” he sighed.

“I have every right to be” you said huffing as you finally crawled off the bed wincing when you squished your tail? You frowned glancing behind you seeing a tail moving.

“That’s a tail dear” he commented.

“Yeah no shit dumbass!” You said.

“I don’t appreciate your tone little mouse” his tone lowered and you looked back to him, his eyes stern. You gulped slightly muttering an apology.

“Good, at least you’ll be easy to train” he said and your mouth hung open.

“Train? Excuse me I am not a pet” you put your hands on your hip and huffed and he chuckled darkly.

“Oh but you are, the sooner you accept that, the easier this will be” he said and you froze, what is this?

“What exactly is this?” You asked hesitantly and he smirked.

“Hell” he said.

The devil, Raphael had not been lying when he said this was hell, you were literally a slave, doing his dirty work, not like he had real slaves around the house to do all of it, no he wanted to make your life a personal hell. You didn’t even get a chance to find out about yourself who you were, you sometimes go glanced in the mirror, an odd face staring back at you, horns on your head, fangs in your mouth and black filled eyes with colour in the middle. Your wings and tail were difficult, you had trouble controlling them, you assumed it was like your other limbs that seemed to be working just fine, but no, you knocked things over very often and Raphael would sigh or roll his eyes making you clean whatever you knocked over up. You had your own room thankfully, a big bed, a fire place, not that hell really needed more fire. You often spent nights reading whatever books you stole from his library or journaling so you might make sense of who you were and how you knew everything, but yourself. You read about humans, elves, gnomes, teiflings, Dragonborn’s whatever races were in the mortal plain, it fascinated you, you wished to go there to explore learn about their ways and customs. Though if you even hinted it to Raphael he’d snap harder than a belt and send you to your room like a child. You were an adult, physically, you had the body of a woman, you’d stare at yourself sometimes, unsure of what it all meant. You’d touch yourself, run your hands down your hips, your arms and legs, over your chest, only over your chest it felt different, especially over your nipples. It was like a light tingly shock went through you and your lower stomach would clench. You’d explore lower running your finger through your folds and how that same tingly feeling ran up your spine and made you feel good. You focused on one point of your body, rubbing slowly at first with light pressure before building and building till your body shook and euphoria filled your body. You chased that feeling often, enjoying how it made your body shake and jolt, problem was, you only knew it felt good, didn’t know what it meant.

You sat idly in Raphael’s office fiddling with your wings, you found they were also sensitive, making your thighs clench together.

“As much as I enjoy watching you pleasuring yourself we have business” Raphael said and you looked to him as he stood.

“Pleasuring?” You asked and he gave you a questioning look.

“What’s that?” You added and he chuckled lightly.

“So you didn’t come fully aware of your body” he said and you frowned as he walked to you and stood in front of you.

“I can hear you at night, your little gasps and moans, exploring your body” his claw gently traced down your cheek and hooked under your chin, you felt your body shudder and the facial or clench of excitement in your stomach.

“Feels good doesn’t it?” He leant down face inches from yours as you forgot how to breathe. You simply nodded and he smirked, his fangs showing.

“Perhaps when you ‘sneak’ into my library you should look over some romance novels” his claw left your chin and he walked to the door leaving you breathless. Wait he knew about your library stealing?!

You quickly followed him to the soul pillar room as a rune began to glow on the ground.

“I promise I put the books back!” You said as he chuckled.

“Little mouse, I know all about your sneaking around, I know everything that happens in this house, I let you do it” he grinned as he began to mutter some infernal words. You groaned quietly and cursed yourself tail swishing relentlessly behind you.

“Come here” he ordered and you did.

“What’s going on?” You asked as he suddenly waved a spell on you. You froze looking down at your body, no tail, no wings, you felt your head, no horns.

“What did you do?!” You yelled and he winced glaring at you as he changed his form also.

“Making us human” he rolled his eyes as he dragged you into the circle. You almost screamed and closed your eyes tightly as magic pulsed around you and stopped.

“You can open your eyes” Raphael tsked and you let go of your breath and opened your eyes. You frowned at the rather bright interior of whatever house this was.

“Where are we?” You asked curiously as you looked around.

“The devils fee” he said and you raised an eyebrow laughing slightly.

“You’re always childish, Baldurs gate, Faerun” wait, did he say Baldurs gate? You were in the material plain?

“Where in the material plain?” You squealed and he growled making you stop instantly as someone opened the door.

“Raphael what a surprise” a halfling woman said and you stared at her in awe.

“And you brought company, why is she staring like that?” The woman frowned. Raphael clicked his fingers in front of your face and you jolted thinking he cast a spell, but he didn’t.

“Let’s just say she’s been alive for two months” Raphael rolled his eyes and the woman frowned again.

“Alright, come on down” she said walking out the door, you and Raphael following. Your mouth hung open the whole way down the stairs as you began to inspect every skull and trinket she had in her shop before you spotted outside. You stared in awe looking at the clear blue sky and yellow, extremely bright! Sun. You winced and looked away as you saw some people walking by, you stared and walked after them grinning from ear to ear. They walked off quickly, but you got distracted by the walls, the crates, the grass and puddles. You found yourself caught up in a crowd hearing chatter upon chatter, nothing like the house of hopes. You saw a little boy holding up some paper and walked over.

“2 gold ma’am, lasted stories!” He said and you frowned, you didn’t have any gold. You could just take it from him, that wasn’t among human custom though, you think. You smiled and left as you wandered the streets before an angry Raphael appeared in front of you.

“Did I say you could run off?” He said eyes angry.

“You can’t expect me to not run off” you said hands crossing over your chest as he gritted his teeth.

“If you don’t behave I will send you back home” he said and you tensed.

“Fine, but you-“ he raised an eyebrow and you shut up before following him quietly. You wandered the streets your grin coming back as you glanced in buildings the best you could and looked at all the people. You saw some overly large steel beings also, nothing with a soul, just huge things with swords following around armoured men and women, fascinating.

You crossed a bridge heading to another part of the city, you chuckled softly peering over the edge wondering if you could just fly off it only to be pulled back by an angry Raphael.

“Focus” he said and you pouted, but continued to follow him. You finally entered a building, sharess caress, you smiled as you saw people everywhere.

“Welcome back” the older woman smirked behind the counter.

“Oh and you’ve brought company” she winked at you and you smiled.

“Don’t get any ideas” Raphael growled in warning making you frown. The woman laughed and you tensed slightly, but Raphael did nothing.

“Of course, off you go” she shooed you away and you followed Raphael through the building and up the stairs. You frowned walking past doors hearing moans coming from inside.

“No” Raphael said as your hand reached for the door. You groaned and followed him to where he had stopped.

“The devils den?” You questioned seeing the sign.

“Get in” he said and you put your hands up and went inside. You stopped slightly seeing the lovely room. A big bath to your left, fancy rosewood furniture and a large bed at the end on a round platform with petals on the floor.

“Why’re we here?” You asked curiously as you looked through the room.

“We are going to make some deals” he said and you froze.

“Devil deals?” You said.

“Yes” he said apparently unbothered.

“I am not-“ you struggled, you were a devil, you were not a dealing devil.

“A dealing devil!” You said and he raised an eyebrow at you.

“Thats your job! Isn't it?” You gulped finding yourself slightly unstable without your wings or tail.

“This form feels funny” you said glancing behind you, seeing no tail or wings.

“You can’t wander around the city as a devil little mouse, a cat will get you” Raphael said. You frowned slightly hearing a cry next door, you glanced to Raphael who only smirked.

“Should we help them?” You asked gesturing to next door and the devil laughed.

“They don’t need any help my dear” he laughed sitting down on a plush red chair.

“Come” he patted his thigh and you raised an eyebrow in question. The devil gave you a hard stare and you walked over till you were standing in front of him.

“Sit” he gestured to his lap and you hesitated.

“I can grab another chair” you pointed to the wooden one by the desk.

“I said sit” he ordered and you gulped and climbed into his lap. You didn’t put any weight on him, you sat awkwardly on your knees as Raphael looked up at you, head resting on his hand.

“Little mouse how many times must I repeat myself” he said annoyed as his hand rested on your hip and forced you to sit on him. You froze in place arms huddled to your chest as your body ran hotter than normal.

“Good girl” he said and you stared at him wide eyed, your lower stomach clenching.

“Why am I sitting here?” You asked hesitantly as he smirked his hand still on your hip.

“I thought we were devil dealing” you mumbled unable to keep his stare.

“We are” he smirked.

“I’ve read about it, this isn’t how we deal, there’s contracts, manipulation, lying-“ he cut you off with a pointed look and you silenced yourself.

“This isn’t in the books” you mumbled.

“This is in books you haven’t read, little mouse” he said his hand slipping under your shirt. The contact made you gasp quietly, strange to have someone else touch you.

“What books?” You asked hesitantly and he chuckled devishly.

Next part ->

[puppystarz]

Devil on my lap and a cross on my neck.

-Ordinary Life, The Weeknd

[thecoolguy24601]

McDonald’s is about to give us the greatest crossover of all time

[youandtom2]

As Wicked As Sin (demon!Tom x nun!reader) 18+

Summary: You have spent your whole life devoting yourself to your faith and God. But it only takes one, sinful night to devote yourself to the devil. Themes: smut, like major major smut, sex in a church with a demon with a breeding kink, what else do you need to know , death, religious PTSD T/W: this is sacrilege, so if you don't like the idea of the devil offending God or Catholicism then this isn't for you. w/c: 8.3k a/n: hi, just me, your friendly horny whore here to say that i spent a lot of time on this and i am very tired. tbh I'll probs edit this again at another point. Please enjoy. Also I am not religious in the slightest but I researched as best as I could so plz don't come for me if I got anything wrong. Again, it's fiction. here for a good time not a long time :D

MASTERLIST

The church bell echoes through the hollows of the building, marking the eleventh hour as you push open the solid, wooden doors with all your might. Behind you, your tunic and your veil drags across the tiled floor, sweeping up the dust of the archaic building while you make your way into the main hall, watched over by the numerous holy statues and shrines. By habit, you look up, letting the architecture emanate its holiness and take your breath away by its sheer size. No matter how many times you enter this church, it never fails to take your breath away. 

“En el Nombre del Padre, y del Hijo, y del Espíritu Santo. Amen.” 

The day is like any other. Temporary living in a monastic community, your duty to your institute and to the Abbess comprises prayer, spiritual learning and devoting yourself to better understanding your divine vocation. You’re half way through your novitiate, and with six months to go before you are called to take your vows, you still have a lot to learn. The eleventh hour is a time for self-reflection; taking the initiative to find your soul and connect it to God without the supervision of your superiors.

Spiritually, your heart finds guidance in the Virgin Mary and your feet carry you up towards the shrine calmly, composed. The closer you get, the sooner you realise that another Sister has already taken prayer in front of her. No matter. You cannot begrudge another for taking the time to pray. Her body lies low to the ground and you can’t figure out who it is, and you don’t want to bother her, but she doesn’t seem to be conducting herself in a proper, respectful way. She’s on her knees but slumped forward, her hidden face grinding into the tiled floor and her limbs are somewhat sprawled. Something’s amiss here.

“Sister?” Her body lacks a response so you rest a cautious hand on her shoulder. “Sister, are you alright?” The second your hand touches her, her body rolls to the floor like a ragdoll, quickly revealing her face. You take one look at her before you let out an ear-piercing scream and the sound carries further than the church bell could. It’s Sister Magda. But instead of the kindly face you see near enough every day, the deathly stare of her blood-ridden eyes holds you captive. Something sinister has consumed her and her washed-out skin is stained with dark crimson blood, crying from her eyes, leaking from her nose and flowing into a river on her cowl. She’s dead, and although a terrifying sight to behold, it isn’t what scares you the most. This is surely the sadistic work of an evil force, a subject you know very little of. 

“Help! Anyone help!” You scream, your voice already wearing thin. “Please! Anyone!” 

A black cloud of nuns come hovering into the hall filtering their way through the pews, their eyes widening at the horror before them. Your superior, Sister Maria is the first to reach you and you’re already desperately pleading your case before she has the chance to investigate. The others flock around Sister Magda, whispering quiet appeals to the Lord and signing the cross over their own chests.

“I don’t know what happened! I swear, I just found her like this! She…she’s dead, Sister, I…I--”

“Breathe, child, breathe. It’s alright.” 

As you cling onto the shoulder of Sister Maria, there seems to be a silent conversation shared amongst the other Sisters, one you’re oblivious to. Their silence over such a tragedy has your heart stopping dead in your chest and it leaves you questioning why they aren’t in such a state of mourning like you are. 

The loss of Sister Madga is a hurtful one, being one of the very few Sisters that you sought comfort in when times became hard. She understood you more than anyone, coming from a strict religious family like yourself whose father used to scare her with the threat of demons and how your sins would feed them, and like with any stray animal, they would always come back for more. You were so frightened of doing anything that your father, or God, didn’t permit. The fear of demons became more of a motivator in your monastic journey than your own faith in God, and it was Sister Magda that empathised with you and guided your purpose towards the brighter light. 

Now that you suspect an evil force has claimed Sister Magda, you feel like your world has come crumbling down around you.

“Oh Lord in Heaven have mercy on us. It’s happening. Sister Maria, we have to get her out of here.” Her? You turn towards them and they’re staring at you. Oh God. They mean you.

“What’s happening?!” You cry, but no one gives you the straight answer you’re looking for.

Before anyone is allowed the chance to speak, an inexplicable rumble of rock and concrete thunders around the room, subjecting the church to a small earthquake and you blindly reach out for safety and stability. 

“It’s too late. The prophecy has already begun, she’s part of it now.”

“But she’s only a novice!” They beseech, seemingly on your behalf. You have no idea what they’re talking about. Prophecy? What prophecy? Part of what? Why is no one telling you what’s going on? 

“This demon works in the cruellest of ways. He waits for no one. We have no option, Sisters. Quickly, we must pray.” Your stomach churns as Sister Maria confirms your hypothesis with that one singular word. Demon. The bile rising in your throat stings and burns off any waiting words. With just one word, a childhood of trauma floods your mind, images of your father berating you as you confess your sins and you can’t blink them away knowing that he warned you of this. Somehow, he knew this was going to happen. Were you not good enough? Had you not vowed enough of yourself to God? Did you not spend enough time in church?

The Virgin Mary statue before you topples precariously from side to side, losing its balance as a crack snakes its way up the middle, moving of its own volition in whatever direction it pleases until, just seconds later, the pristine image of her holiness shatters to the ground. Sister Maria does her best to catch you as you slump against her, numb with the terror that paints your skin a horribly pale colour. Whatever’s coming, whoever’s coming, there isn’t anything from your six months of novitiate that can protect you from the dreaded evil force. 

Leaving Sister Magda’s body in her final resting place, the Sisters quickly scamper, coordinating themselves throughout the space of the church with faces painting no other emotion than the terror that riddles your own. Promptly, they settle themselves onto their knees, clasp their hands together and bow their heads. You see their lips moving, and although you can’t hear what they’re saying, you recognise the shape of the words of prayer as they quietly whisper to themselves with God as their witness. 

“Sister Maria, please! What’s going on?” Frustratingly, she ignores your question and grabs hold of your forearms, a desperation in her tight grip. The rumble grows in intensity, the shards of the Virgin Mary rattling at your feet. 

“You have to listen to me. No matter what happens, it is imperative you keep your eyes closed and whatever you do, do not stop praying. May God have mercy on your soul.” 

Sister Maria escapes your clutches to find a space of her own, following her own orders and all too soon, she’s praying with the same desperation. Quivering, you can’t find the power in your own body to move. Wrecked by panting breaths, you weakly turn, prop yourself up onto your knees, clasp your shaky hands together, and close your eyes with Sister Magda’s bloodied corpse being the last thing you see. When your mind clears just a little, the well-rehearsed words of prayer whisper from your lips. 

“Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; Thy kingdom come, thy will be done; on earth as it is in heaven…”

When the cacophony reaches its loudest, a white burst of light emits within the church, bright enough to burn through your lids, and although you can’t fathom its source, you know you can’t let it distract you from praying. You can’t open your eyes. You won’t open your eyes. You don’t want to face the same fate Sister Magda did. You’re not ready to face your fears. 

Your confidence in faith is restored when the light begins to dim and the rumble reduces to a tremor. The sound of falling dust and cracking stone descends into silence until all that is left is the small, wavering whispers of the Lord's prayer. You think it’s over, you think you’ve won. The power of eight devout nuns sanctifying themselves in a holy place of worship appears to be working against this demon. But like Sister Maria warned, you cannot stop praying, no matter what happens. 

But then you feel it; a small breeze, blowing straight through your tunic to pierce your body like ice to the skin. On a hot summer’s day, a breeze as cold as this should be impossible, it’s almost arctic. As it whirls around the church, it carries a whistle, low and hollow. 

“Our Father, who art in h-heaven…” Shivers shake you as you repeat the Lord’s prayer for the second time. “Hallowed be thy name--”

“‘Thy kingdom come, thy will be done; on earth as it is in heaven’. I love that you think a few meaningless words can keep me away.” 

Two voices dance in a choreograph around the church. One has all the characteristics of a human’s; deep, smooth and carries the tone of a man, but the other that’s laced to it is darker, raspier, clipped and off-kilter, almost incomprehensible to the human ear. Two very different voices, but only one mind. One of a demon’s. 

The sudden presence of the demon’s voice silences yours, rendered completely frozen that something, or someone, has materialised directly in front of you. You can’t even begin to imagine what form he presents himself in. Your father claimed that demons take many forms, each of a different purpose; to scare, to lure, to trick, to hide, and what makes them so dangerous is that it’s impossible to tell their motive. You’ve seen and heard of so many different depictions of demons, all inconsistent to one another so there’s no telling that what stands in front of you now, has ever been seen before. And you won’t ever know. All hope is not lost if you just keep your eyes closed and don’t stop praying. 

“...And lead us not into temptation, But deliver us from evil.” 

The sound of his sweeping tread descends down the steps of what used to be the Virgin Mary shrine and your hands clasp tighter. He’s getting closer and closer…

“My sweet Sisters, nothing can stop temptation. I, Tom, elder of the House of Holland, am temptation, I am evil, I cannot be stopped. The prophecy forbids it.” 

Whatever tactic you used to block out his voice before fails you the more he continues to speak. It easily drowns out your own, hushing out the prayer and fills it with his unholy words, as if he’s speaking from the depths of your mind and you’re forced to stop and listen. It’s tuneful, fluid, rolling like a wave and it drags you along in its tide before inevitably drowning in it.

It’s then you realise the true purpose for continual prayer, it’s not permission for God’s protection, it’s to block him out.

“Our…our Father, who a-art in heaven--” 

“Mmmm, fresh meat.” The demon’s voices, both human and demonic, rumble closely to your ear. “I bet you’ve never seen a demon before. Don’t you want to see? Don’t you want to give into temptation and open your eyes?”

“Don’t do it!” Sister Maria cries out, hysterical as she knows how little prepared you are for the danger you face. 

“You’re not real,” you whisper, in denial. “Our Father, who art in--” A warm, firm hand curls around your shoulder, your prayer interrupted by a whimper of fear. The touch to your shoulder spreads warmth around your body, subjected to a feverish sweat and a small droplet rolls down your back. Your failed attempt of prayer doesn’t reach further than the second verse when he speaks again.

“I’m very real. Open your eyes and see.” 

“No!” You’re sobbing now and praying has long gone from your priorities. All that remains is the memories of your father yelling at you to repent your sins, ordering you to confess to keep the demons away while you cry uncontrollably, much like the way you are now. “Father, I’m so sorry.”

“Ahh, I see it now. Daddy always warned you about me, didn’t he? I bet he told you that I could eat your soul unless you cleanse yourself of your sins. He had you confessing and repenting day in and day out until you were spilling your deepest darkest secrets. But what for?”

He saunters behind you, dragging a finger from your shoulder, over the nape of your neck until it finds rest on the other side. 

”I could still eat your soul should I choose to, but I’m not here to hurt you, little nun. In fact, I’m here to do the exact opposite…” 

“W-What?”

“Don’t listen to him! He’s trying to trick you! Pray, Sister, pray!” 

Blackness consumes your sight and mind; your own conscience falls silent and the words of prayer that have been ingrained in you since you were a child slowly fade. But how? You knew it like the back of your hand. You could recite it in three other languages; knowledge that was passed down from your father to safeguard you from hell, but now that you kneel in the presence of this demon, something that was part of your everyday routine has just slipped your mind. 

You feel the light traces of a finger tip tilting your chin upwards and his shadow lines your lids, giving you only a slight indication of where he stands in the room. His coercion is like an ear-worm, crawling its way into your head and infecting it with not only his own voice, but others too. ‘Open your eyes.’ It’s Sister Maria’s voice, tender and caring. ‘Open your eyes.’ Suddenly it’s Sister Magda, gone but never forgotten. Her words were always a comfort to you. ‘Open your eyes.’ An older voice reaches you. It’s your mother, speaking from beyond the grave and you almost crumble. ‘Open your eyes.’ Your younger sister, the only one rebellious enough to reject your father’s method of parenting and she became an outcast because of it. You wish you were more like her. ‘Open your eyes.’ No. Anyone but him. The strict, authoritarian voice of your father digs deeper than the ones before him and hearing his demands condition you into obeying. 

​​ ̴̯̻̙̂͆͌̐͘O̶̧̫̣͕͋͐̾͘P̴͓̭̺͎͒̊͆̀E̵̙͔̺͔̅͆͠N̶̨̢̺̿ ̴̤̾͆͋̚Y̶̡̢̫̰̑͘̕͜͝O̶̡͍̰͇̹͑U̸̡̗̗̺͋͐̽̽Ȓ̸̤̥̇ ̵̧̼̠͐̓̆͠E̷̥͒͒̃Y̸̛͚̰̎͜ͅË̴̖͉̥̖͙Ś̵̠͇̗̄̈̚̕

Light floods in as you blink your eyes open, caving in to temptation. Standing before you with his finger still curled under your chin is the demon, but he’s not at all what you expected to see. Of all the demon recreations you’ve seen in your lifetime, none of them hold a spot of resemblance to what is actually standing in front of you. Where you expected to see red, slimy scales is actually a golden wash of warm skin adorning a human body, bare from the waist upwards. Hugging his waist are straight, creaseless black trousers. The long, draping material hangs from his hips, elongating his height as they hide his bare feet scuffing across the floor. 

Every breath he takes accentuates his lean and chiselled body and it’s mesmerising watching how his muscles tense under his skin. You should really divert your stare, succumbing to indecency was an act of immorality according to your father. Abstinence was the one true way of devoting your body and soul to God but this demon makes abstinence seem unreasonable, especially when he exhibits himself like this. It would be a complete waste.

Breaking, your virgin eyes lift higher to see dark, chocolate eyes staring back at you, creasing with the widening smirk that reveals his pearly white teeth, lacking the fangs you expected to see. A soft bed of curls hangs candidly over his eyes, brown and shiny. You have to admit that, for a demon, he’s visually stunning as the sun paints him in an ethereal light, and if you were none the wiser, you would think he is a holy entity, come to bask in the glory of his worshippers. 

The irony of it all has you questioning everything your father has told you about demons. They aren’t scaly creatures with horns and a pointed tail. They don’t spit fire with every word. They aren’t rabidly trying to consume your soul. The fact that he isn’t doing any of those things triggers your curiosity. He’s so alluring that sacrilegious thoughts flood your mind, the kind that would have your father rolling in his grave, the kind that would make him tell you that God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit were to be the only source of satisfaction in your life, and nothing else. That included you too.

“There you are,” he speaks seductively. “What a precious little thing you are--”

“Stay back, you evil demon!” Sister Maria yells, a slight grumble to her throat. The demon pans his attention over to your superior who’s coming to a stand with a wooden cross clenched tightly in her fist. Unlike you, her eyes remain closed. 

“Now now, Sister Maria. Don’t be so bitter. Not everyone gets chosen.” 

“Chosen? Chosen for what? Sister Maria--”

The demon’s satirical laughter echoes around the church, bouncing off every stained-glass window and concrete wall. “Oh, she doesn’t know? Sister Maria, shame on you for calling me evil, but I think you are the real evil here,” he mocks. 

You swivel yourself around to face Sister Maria, her bottom lip quivering. You’ve never seen her so helpless before. She was always the face of bravery in the community, always sharing her wisdom to guide the lost. They say the eyes are the window to the soul, but even with her eyes closed, guilt isn’t a good look on her. 

While you keep your stare on Sister Maria’s crumbling bravery, the demon behind you crouches to rest his hands on your shoulders, his lips hanging low next to your ear. A scent so delicious seeps into your nose, it almost has your eyes rolling. “You see, little nun, for life to exist there must be balance. Good and Evil, life and death, Heaven and Hell. And your God didn’t like being equal. Not one bit. Especially to someone like me. But despite how much he hated it, I realised that even two worlds apart, he and I are actually quite alike. Both a sucker for gluttony and power, only he was willing to threaten the balance of life and began taking what was rightfully mine, stealing my souls, converting them and building his power and I thought that was rather selfish of him. It was only fair I did it back and so the cycle continued for centuries until the balance of life hung by a single thread. So we vowed to a treaty: every one hundred years, He condemns a life of his own to hell…” He turns your head towards Sister Magda, blood beginning to dry. She was too kind to deserve hell. Calmly, he reaches out a hand towards her and like the snow under the sun, her body fades away and her soul is claimed. 

Blackness fills his sclera when he turns back to you, cavernous and haunting.

“But in return, I must give a life back.”

“You can resurrect the dead?” You ask.

“I could but where’s the fun in that? No, no, little nun, I give back life in a very different way, one that your idiot God never anticipated.” His arm comes to encircle around your hips, pressing a flat palm across the expanse of your stomach and you feel a spark of adrenaline. ‘Give a life’, he said. The gears wind and the cogs turn until it comes to you.

Give a life. Not to the dead, but to the unborn. He means to impregnate.

His eyes fade into an autumn brown. “Rather prescient, don’t you think? How you and little Annie Madga’s life bear such a resemblance to each other, as if everyone knew what was going to happen to you, how your lives were shaped around God as if that would protect you from me.” The revelation stops you breathing. All this time, you were pinned from birth, both you and Sister Magda, raised by strict but protective fathers, forcing you into a monastery in the hopes that the prophecy wouldn’t come true, and it is the reason you connected so well with each other. You were lambs for slaughter. “But it is written. A vow from the divine cannot be broken. So it will be done.” 

“Sister Maria…” you plead, searching for answers from her like you’ve done before. “Please tell me it isn’t true.” 

She doesn’t respond right away and that alone gives you your answer. Nothing more needs to be said, but alas the words you dread slip from her lips. “I’m sorry. It’s what the Lord above wants!” 

“She gave you up.” A gentle, masculine voice funnels into your ear. It’s his, but it’s so…enchanting. “She just wanted to save her own skin. She doesn’t care what happens to you. It only matters if she gets to live another day.” 

“You gave me up,” you echo back to her. “You gave me up and you gave Sister Magda up too and now she’s dead. You knew this was going to happen and you never told us!”

“W-We didn’t want you to be in fear, dear child, we just wanted you to find hope and love through God. He will protect you!” 

“Such deception. God won’t protect you. He sacrificed you and Annie Magda to me. Your life is in my hands now. Give yourself in to me.” He sounds so convincing, lulling you into a sense of security and you can’t find it in you to doubt him. 

“I’ve given up most of my life, my freedom to God, and what has He done for me? Sacrificed me? Was I not good enough for Him?” 

“Don’t listen to him, Sister. Remember the Lord’s prayer, keep that close to you.”

“He can’t look after you anymore, but I can. I can give you everything you want. Give in to me.” Your veil is stolen from you, revealing your hair. You pay no mind to his wandering hands as you keep your gaze on Sister Maria, the sight of her bringing about an unprecedented anger that boils in your chest. You’ve never felt anger like this before, never had such a fiery resolve disease you so quickly and it doesn’t feel like you. But right now, you’d do anything to spite Sister Maria.

You should be shaking in fear of the demon roaming his hands all over you, shedding you of your religious habit piece by piece, burying his nose deep into your hair, your neck, whispering and serenading you with his presence, but you aren’t. It’s the only comfort you feel in your fit of fury. The bounds of your religion begin to break. 

He’s shown you nothing but soothing hands, and it’s those same captivating hands that turn you towards him and by the time your eyes meet, you're under his spell. A foggy haze blinds you of rational thinking, leaving you with no fear about sinning and condemning your belief, and giving into him suddenly seems like a paradise.

Sister Maria tries one last time to get through to you. “Sister--” 

 G̵̠̎̉I̸̢̱͈̼͖̓͛V̴̤̘̳̼̰͗E̴̻͙͛̔̅̇ ̵̧͍͕̀I̸̛͔̺̒̇̄N̵̩̐͝ ̷̘̯͔͙̆͊̉̀̅T̴̫͈̺̩͐͆O̵͖̥̜̝̊́͘ ̸̲̫̉͑͠M̶̧̬̘̀͊̕Ȩ̵̲̳̈̊̾̕ 

But it’s too late. Your fate has already been laid out for you.

“I…give in.” 

“To who, little nun. Say my name.”

“To you, Tom, elder of the House of Holland.”

“Good girl,” he whispers darkly. “This is going to be so much fun.” He moves to cradle your head, warm hands supporting the weight of your jaw and with a fleeting glance to your lips, he kisses you. You’ve never kissed anyone before so the moment his lips touch yours, the outside world is forgotten. Instantly, you forget you’re in a holy place. You forget about everything that’s pure and whole, throwing away your divine vocation and abandoning everything you’ve learned over the last six months. It’s sacrilege to its highest degree; martyring yourself to this demon in front of an army of nuns and many variations of Christ’s likeness painted onto the ceilings and windows. 

Betrayal never felt so good.

The kiss deepens, his tongue breaching past your lips with ease and you willingly open up to him. Promiscuity runs ragged in your head, sending signals to your body that refuse to be ignored and this demon seems to hear them just as well as you do. 

“Will you give yourself to me?” 

You shouldn’t, but your lips rashly speak before you stop them. “I will.” 

“Will you pledge your heart, body and soul to me?”

“I will.”

A hand rests on your stomach again. “Will you serve me and bear what is mine?”

“No! Sister, you’re making a grave mistake!”

E̶̡͝N̷̝͙̋O̷̲̞̊U̷͑ͅG̵̺̹̅̾H̶̜̀ͅ!̴̯̥̚ 

The demon waves a hand and you watch with wide eyes as Sister Maria’s body flies through the air, colliding with the large pillar by the main door and immediately knocking her unconscious. The other Sisters scatter, running before they too become a victim of the demon’s wrath. A gasp escapes you and in a moment of clarity, you feel the urge to go and run to her, but the demon’s hold on you is too tight to let you go. 

“Leave her,” he coos, sweeping away your hair and kissing your neck. Soft, pillowy lips roam your neck and the second your eyes close, Sister’s Maria’s unconscious body slips your mind and you’re back under his spell. “She’s only ever lied to you, I’ve been the one to show you the truth, so tell me, little nun. Will you serve me and bear what is mine?” 

“I…I will.” 

The demon, Tom, slithers away from you, walking back towards the lectern that stands in front of the crucifixion of Jesus above the altar. He leans against it, his abs tensing and his mouth smiling. The sight is delicious and it’s begging you to fall into temptation yet again. 

“Come to me,” he demands with the curl of his fingers. Without a second thought, you begin crawling towards him in what remains of your undergarments, stopping just at the base of the lectern. He admires the look in your eyes, gazing up at him as if he is the only light in your life and how you convey an innocence that says you’re willing to do anything for him. 

“Have you ever had cravings? Desires?”

“I’ve…I’ve always wondered what alcohol tastes like.”

He laughs heartily, holding his stomach and tilting his head back. Heat floods your cheeks. “Do they teach you to be this naive? No, little nun, I don’t mean like that. I mean…” His hand cups your cheek gently, staring straight into your soul. “Have you ever had dirty thoughts, thoughts so filthy that you just can’t help but slip your fingers into your tight, little cunt and fuck yourself until your screaming.”

Every crude, vulgar word is like a hit to your chastity. Normally you would wince at their sound but in his voice, they’re words of a poem. What is he doing to you? 

You answer honestly, truthfully. “I’ve…I haven’t done anything like that. It--It was forbidden.” 

“What is it with you prudes that always forbid fun things?” A revelation glosses over his eyes, his mouth widens. “You’re a virgin, aren’t you? You’ve never had anyone fuck you before…and yet here you are consenting to be defiled by me, to take my seed and bear the offspring of a demon. My, my, you must be a curious, wanting thing.” 

“I…I…” Why can’t you say no? Why do you not want to?

“Well let’s not waste any more time. Here’s how this is going to go, little nun, since you are a follower of rules. You do everything I say. You forget about what the church and Daddy has taught you because when we’re done, his skin will crawl when he won’t be able to recognise his daughter when she’s all whored out and dumb for my cock. I’ll do whatever I want to you and I’m not going to stop until you are full and round with my seed. And I get to do it with God and Jesus as witnesses and I can’t fucking wait.” 

Your chest is heaving, glistening with sweat as lust consumes you. It’s exhilarating and you decide that you’re ready, so with an aching whimper and a determined nod, you hand yourself over to him.

“Strip.” 

You’re already peeling off your undergarments before you come to a full stand, clumsily ripping the material at the seams as you drag it from your body. The alien sensation of having cold air swirl around your naked form takes your breath away. Tom grins wickedly at the sight; unblemished skin waiting to be marked and branded by him. But he spots it, the small, dainty cross chained around your neck, the one your mother gave you, and his expression drops like an anchor, changing to something far more sinister. Within a blink of an eye, he snatches it and the chain breaks, the small cross burning in a contained fire in the palm of his hand. 

He cocks a brow. “You won’t need that anymore. You’re on the side of the devil now. Now strip me.” 

The old, royal blue carpet burns your knees while you obey his command, and within seconds you set sight on him, and fuck, you’ve never seen a more unholy sight. Smug and borderline arrogant, the demon watches for your reaction while you unveil his cock, girthy and bobbing under its weight. It lies within inches of your face, and he asks you of the unfathomable. 

“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue,” he commands, his voice becoming deep and throaty. Unceremoniously, he spits into your mouth and it almost sears your tongue but you refrain from moving. Grappling onto the underside of your chin, he coaxes you towards his cock and slides it into your mouth until the tip reaches the back of your throat where you fall into a fit of gurgles and involuntary gagging.

You don’t miss the little reminder from your subconscious that you haven’t done this before, and instead of fretting over it, you disregard it immediately as lust takes over, guiding your movements. Taking what you can of him in your mouth, your hand pleases the rest, sensually driving your hand over his length while your mouth sucks on his head. 

“Aw, are you struggling?” He speaks within your head again, as if he heard your subconscious talking to you. For all you know, it’s likely that he did. “I can help with that.” 

Two firm hands claw their fingers through your roots, nails digging deep into your scalp in an ardent massage and the smallest of whimpers bubbles through. You lose control of your movements as the coveted demon above you arduously fucks your mouth. After only a minute, you’re most likely bruised, scratched and burned but it’s all a pain that you eventually learn to brave. A minute later, it’s a pain you learn to love. 

Drool dribbles down your chin and drips onto the carpet. “Oh making a mess in God’s house, eh? How sinful of you. Let’s make more.” 

Your hands lay flat upon his thighs, pushing away while he pulls you in and smothers every chance of you being able to breathe. He bobs your mouth so vigorously up and down his cock that you’re almost sick with vertigo and the feeling of being repeatedly gagged. But of course, he laughs wickedly at your expense and the sound of his rhythmic chuckle buzzes around you before it morphs into something more salacious. Groaning and moaning, you can just hear the undertones of the darker voice rumbling louder until it descends into something primal. The vibrations run like liquid gold through your veins and you yearn for more of the feeling. 

“Shit, that mouth. Stick out your tongue for me.” Tom grabs ahold of his cock and balances it on the tip of the muscle, feeling every intricate twitch of it. He merely uses you as a toy, thrusting himself so that your tongue tastes every inch of him, right until your lips suckle on the base of his cock. 

This is insidiously profane. One glance to your left you see Christ’s eyes staring down at you from the stained-glass window and just for a second, you begin hating yourself. You swear you can feel the judgement radiating from those motionless eyes, and what you previously thought was a look of hope is now a look of censure. How could you have given in so easily? 

Tom can sense your regret and takes matters into his own hands. He calls your name, how he knows it - you’re not sure, but it immediately grabs your attention. “Eyes up here.” His cock slips abruptly back into your mouth again but this time, he’s more in control of himself and it allows you to taste more. There’s a bitter-sweet saltiness to him. “Remember who it is you’re on your knees for. It’s not him - wider - he’s on the side of the selfish God that never cared about you - fuck - the same God that killed Annie Magda, that gave you up to me. They abused your loyalty.” You inhale a breath when he finally releases you, coughing and spluttering and wiping away the mess around your lips. His dark eyes invade your sight, even through the blurriness of tears, and tilts your head up. “But I won’t. Unlike Him, I reward loyalty, and my sweet, innocent nun, you are in for a treat.” 

As much as it pains you to admit, he is right. Never in a million years did you expect to be agreeing with a demon, but he speaks nothing but the truth. And with a simple reminder as to why you exiled yourself from your own faith, the nerves that flutter in your stomach now flutter with excitement. It fuels your heart, beating louder and harder while you are subject to this demon’s manipulation, carrying you and bending you over the table of the altar with a crash. One easy flicker of the eyes sees Jesus on the crucifix just a couple of metres ahead of you.

And you’re about to be fucked by a demon right in front of him. 

You twist your head over your shoulder to see Tom standing directly behind you, vigorous hands gripping your hips. For the first time in what seems like hours, you eventually find your voice. “What are you going to do to me?” 

“So many dirty, filthy things, little nun.” 

“Like…like what?” 

He tilts his head and considers you for a moment. Wow, he thinks. You really are that naive. A sly smirk graces his lips because he’s decided that he too can indulge in naming every way he’s going to defile you.

By the nape of the neck, he pulls you up against him, your back colliding with a wall of solid muscle. You feel the feather-light touch of his lips dance around the shell of your ear, his breath funnelling straight down to your eardrum. “I’m going to do what no one else has done before, not even you,” he whispers, stopping only to kiss beneath your ear. “I’m going to explore your body, inside and out. There isn’t going to be one bit of you left untouched. Not. One. Bit.” Right on cue, his hands slither down your figure, hugging every curve, dip and hill until he finds your tits, perked and pebbled. He rolls your nipples in between the pads of his fingers and in doing so, plucks the nerves that are tied to your pussy. “I’m going to tease you, make you want what you can’t have unless I permit it, and when I do, if I do, you’ll be begging for me to stop. You’ll be making so many pretty sounds; crying, screaming, begging, and all the little moans and whines I know you’re capable of.” He pinches hard and you buckle with a short, curt yelp that verifies his promise. 

“I’ll stretch you out in any way I please. Oh fuck, I’m just thinking about how tight your cunt is going to be, how you are going to have your cunt shaped and moulded by my cock that it can’t ever be filled by anyone else, only me. Your body will shake and quiver around me while I fuck you until you can’t fucking walk anymore.” His fingernails puncture your skin. He’s becoming inpatient as he lists the unavoidable. You swallow thickly thinking he’s finished, but when his forehead grinds against your temple, you realise you are so wrong. “You thought you were born to serve God? You’re wrong, you were made to serve me and I’ll do anything I please. I can’t wait to see you dripping with my seed but know this, little nun--” Sharp teeth bite onto your lobe. “I will replace every wasted drop until you are full to the brim.” 

“Fuck.” 

“That word sounds so delicious in your voice. Say it again.” To entice you, he sucks on the skin of your neck.

“Fuuuuck.” 

“Put your hand between your thighs for me, and tell me what you feel.” 

“I’m…I’m wet.” 

“Perfect. I think I might just have a taste.” 

Panic splinters through you. “A taste--what? Oooohhh my God! Fuck!”

Ass cheeks spread wide, Tom slots himself deep between them until his hot, wet tongue meets with your pussy and an explosion of something intoxicating happens inside you. You’re not quite sure what it is yet, but you are slowly becoming entranced by it. 

It’s the sensation of the wet muscle pulsing inside of you that nearly shatters your sanity. It prods and pokes, rabidly trying to push its way into your tight, untouched hole. With force, the pointed tip of his tongue slides in and you think it’s just a warning for what’s to come, but when his tongue grows inside you, reaching to inhuman lengths and skims your cervix, you completely and utterly fall apart.

His lips are latched, stubborn as they create a seal around your cunt and suck you into him. All manner of expletives fall from your lips as you try to find a way of coping with the mind-numbing sensation of his amorous tongue invading your inner body. It doesn’t help at all. Nothing can help you survive against it wriggling inside you, caressing every wall and breaking boundaries you didn’t know existed.

Your knees buckle and crumble beneath you, being overwhelmed by the instinct to curl into themselves for protection, but by the sheer strength of the demon behind you, you go absolutely nowhere. His hands land a powerful slap against your cheeks as a small punishment.

“Holy mother of f-f-fuck, how - ah - how is this real?” 

Finally, after a few earth-shattering minutes, his tongue slowly retracts, brushing against every nerve with generosity and licks up any traces of your slick as it drips down your thighs. 

“I told you. I’m going to explore your body; inside and out.” 

With too many dormant nerves being shocked to life, you try to pull your hips forward, almost mounting onto the altar, however it is like trying to take a drug away from an addict. The burning desperation of his hands grappling your hips make you wince, having little to no option but to follow his every movement like you are his puppet. Involuntarily, you deliver your cunt back to him and he holds back no reservations; nuzzling his lips and tongue against your clit, furiously flicking it back and forth, becoming an expert of your body and creating the stimulation he knows will break you in a matter of moments. 

His hand snakes around and presses against your lower abdomen. Words that aren’t your own echo in your head and very quickly you recognise his wicked tone. Strangely, as he talks, his lips don’t stray from your cunt and his voice remains within the walls of your mind. “You feel that heat in your stomach? You feel it growing and growing, so close to snapping?” 

“Yes! Ohhhh.” You jerk forward as he suckles on the little bud that’s adding to build up in your abdomen.

“It’s your first orgasm, ready and waiting for me. Let go of it, let it take over you and don’t fight it.” 

“How!?” 

“You’ll know.”

It’s a total shock to your system. Your entire body seizes as the feeling Tom described ripples through you from the tips of your burning ears to the tight curl of your toes, rendering your body completely spent as it flops against the wooden table of the altar. Regardless, true to his wicked nature, Tom doesn't stop. The orgasm gets tighter and grows more intense the longer he refuses to relent and it’s a harsh torment amongst the unprecedented pleasure. 

You cry out for salvation. “Please!” It goes unheard, as does the hiccup of your sob. “It’s too much. Ah!”  

After many hopeless pleads and begs, he eventually, thankfully, eases his attack, reducing his fiery lust to slow sweeps and nuzzling kisses to the cunt that gave him all that he desired. The cramp in your twitching thighs eases and you switch to relying on the table to keep you upright. 

In a trice, Tom boldly ventures upwards, teasing a squeal from you when he licks over your pursed hole, stopping to tease before journeying up the line of your spine. Still recovering, you lack the energy to move even as the demon behind you tugs you up, curling his hand around the column of your neck to hold you hostage in a chokehold. Just as violently as before, he snags your lips, sensually driving his tongue to brush over yours, tangy with the remnants of your slick. You don’t think you can ever get over the whirlwind of excitement when you hear that dark chuckle of his, especially when you moan into him because he knows how much you're indulging in his wickedness. 

He presses his full body weight against you, hot, hard and demanding. 

“I think we’re putting on quite a show for them.” Tom looks up towards the Jesus statue and smoulders. “They should count themselves lucky.” 

“Maybe they might get jealous.” 

Tom stops to look at you, shocked but pleasantly amused. To some extent, you are too, but you’re already marked for hell, what more harm would aggravating the holy spirits do that you haven’t already caused yourself? 

“Tell me, little nun, why would they be jealous?” He knows, but it pleases him to ask anyway. 

“Because I don’t belong to them anymore. I belong to you.” 

Aroused, Tom’s hand squeezes tighter, just enough to leave you gasping. “Yes you do. And I’m going to fuck you like you’re mine. Take a deep breath, little nun, you’re going to need it.” 

You don’t understand why until he’s squeezing every inch of his cock into you, and all the air in your lungs gets wasted into a scream, crying out in unbearable pain as he mercilessly tears through you. The pain is hot and tight, scoring through your nervous system that you can��t move any other part of your body in fear of exacerbating it. 

Is this how it’s supposed to feel? How can anyone enjoy this? 

After a slight struggle, Tom completely fills you. There’s a slight stutter to each of your breaths; suffocation in two very different forms. 

“Ugh, fuck! So…fucking…tight. I can barely move, little nun, you’re killing me.” 

In time, you overcome the pain, thankful it takes this demon more than a minute to acclimate to the tight squeeze of your cunt around his cock, just enough time for that haunting blackness to consume his sclera again, spreading through the veins around his eyes and it’s truly a demonic sight. He grinds his molars together, rabidly growling like a wild animal yearning to be fed and soon morphs into something a little closer to what you expected a demon to be like. He ruts and thrusts like he’s unbound by self-control, desperately chasing after something he can easily obtain, but the chase is where the fun lies. The animality in him drives him to sink his teeth into the supple, sensitive skin of your neck, sucking and licking every mark he leaves behind. He doesn't relent until you are well and truly branded with his signature.

Branded by a demon.

Your slick lines him, wet enough to also tame the burn inside you but sadly, there isn’t anything to tame the burn of the red, hot skin of your ass. He whips his hips so harshly against you, you can feel the redness oozing over your ass. 

“Oh God, it hurts so much!” 

“But it feels so good. You feel so good, fuck. Why don’t we have a little more fun, eh?” 

There’s no time to answer. Tom easily lifts you, swivelling you around and sitting your red ass onto the altar, legs wrapped around his waist. He wastes no time in slotting his cock back into you, pumping just as rigorously as before and you descend into a mania. New position, new angle, new pace, new sights, it’s all overstimulating. Your head falls back onto the velvet table cover and your eyes flutter to a close--

“Not a fucking chance. I want you to watch.” Yanked forward by the scruff of your hair, your chin digs deep into your chest where a small whimper bubbles, and you are subjected to watch his cock disappear and reappear in a fine, fluid movement. The repetition is somewhat mesmerising, like it’s brainwashing you into becoming addicted to the sight.

Suddenly, Tom’s finger, slight and careful, rests gently against your bundle of nerves and twitches precariously. Like a moth drawn to a flame, you follow his every move, hooked on the small but powerful electrical buzzes that his touch causes. A shockwave ripples up your spine at his touch. 

“Oh my God, what was that?” 

“Your most sensitive part, little nun. I’m gonna have a little fun with it.” 

His eyes peers over your shoulder and you shiver at the mischievous twinkle in his black eyes. He wears evil so well it amazes you that you’re still able to recognise when he has something devilish planned. You don’t dare look and instead, let the shock of what he lifts over your shoulder capture you in its tight grip. 

It’s the sacred crucifix, one blessed by the Abbess and doused in holy water. A gasp catches in the back of your bruised throat.

“I’m sure he won’t mind if we use this,” he whispers, rutting in and out and in and out… 

“What…what are you going to do with it?” 

Tom doesn’t say a word much to your horror. Instead, cautious, wide eyes watch the bare end of the cross mount your clit and begin pivoting around the little bud. Your stomach plummets. “Shit! You…you probably shouldn’t--”

“Shouldn’t what?” He interrogates, scowling. He presses harder and circles quicker. “Shouldn't. What."

"N-nothing, ah ahhhhh!"

"That's what I thought. Remember, little nun, I get to do whatever I want. I don't give a fuck who watches, who listens, what happens or what sacred fucked object I fuck you with, I am owed this."

His movements are brunt and erratic and you feel the heat building in your stomach again. "Okay! Okay! I'm sorry, fuck! I think I'm gonna snap--"

"Oh, you're going to do more than just snap," he pulls completely free of you, already seeing a long line of white, pearly slick trickle from you. "You're going to break. And so am I. We'll do it together."

His cock slides back into abruptly and hits deeper than before and the church fills with your cries. At your clit, the cross almost vibrates with his precision, and at your aching hole, Tom's cock, still thrusting in and out at what feels like the first time. Your cunt just can't seem to accommodate such an intrusion at his size.

Like the demon promises, something snaps in both of you and a chorus of grunts and growls rumble from his chest where whines and mewls leave yours. Instantly blood starts pumping rapidly to your cunt, swelling in size the more he continues to circle your throbbing clit with the crucifix. Your thighs clamped together to inhibit his movements, but he is just too unshakeable. He prolongs the sensation for as long as he can, testing your limits just to hear the sweet, sweet, sobs cracking from your throat. You cry out desperately, voice hoarse and dry as it crumbles beneath the pressure of Tom's desperation to have you, to give him everything but yet still have the physicality to bear the sudden influx of pleasure.

"Fuck! Oh yes, fucking take it all. Take all my cum. Fill you up. You'll be so full and round, oh yesssss. That's it."

The church walls resonates with your cries and heats to the sweltering temperature of your bodies, as if it's reacting to what it's just witnessed.

Your body quivers upon the altar. The velvet beneath seems to be spotted with stains of your own making, leaving behind a very sinful piece of evidence of what devilry has transpired. Starlight flickers behind your eyelids while the remnants of the orgasm begins to dissipate. You regulate your breathing, your pulse, your heart, anything to make the recovery of that planet-shattering pleasure less tedious. Inside you, warmth swims through you and a small minority of it escapes the twitch of Tom's cock, your cunt bursting at the seams while it drips down your thighs.

The crucifix clatters to the ground and Tom desperately pulls from you and begins collecting what escapes by the pads of his fingers and forces it back into you.

“Fuck,” you hiccup. “I think…” you shudder, “I think I’m still cumming.” With that information free to use, Tom teases an evil smirk, sneaking his fingers over your clit and…"NO! No, no, no, no, no, no, please, please, please, just...give me a second.” 

"Hahahaha, oh my dear little nun. This is never going to end." His words echo in between kisses, being strewn over your body as he licks, kisses and bites patches of your skin. His hands cruise over the length of your arms, lifting them and holding them high above your head.

"What...?"

He nuzzles deep into your neck, biting harshly and teasing a wince from you. "I can't get enough of this tight, little pussy. Fuck, what you do to me, little nun, I can't just leave you behind like that. Oh no, no, you'll definitely be coming back with me."

"No..."

"Yes. You made that decision, you willingly handed yourself over to me, you are mine to keep and a vow from the divine cannot be broken."

In a momentary lapse of weakness, tears blur your eyes as you strain to find the eyes of Jesus hanging on the crucifix above you while his lips roam your cheek, kissing delicately, tenderly as if to coax you back into his embrace.

"There's nothing He can do now because..." He pulls your wrist and holds it in the space beneath you. When he unfurls his hand from your wrist, it reveals a mark, a symbol tattooed into your skin. Circular with an unrecognisable language written inside. You're at a loss for breath, skin paling at what you've done.

"You're forever bound to the House of Holland."

[https-cyber-slxt]

Yk there's something so hot about Tall!Reader in all her glory

Okay imagine this, you, a 6'8 woman and your boyfriend

Vergil who is only 6'5, and is super embarrassed about having to look up instead of down at you to talk to you.

Your height doesn't really affect the way you two live, although it does feel weird knowing his own girlfriend is taller than him.

Oh but in the bedroom? That's a whole different story, if he actually let's you put a leash on him (which is highly unlikely if he's in a bad mood) he loves the way you just tower over him while he's on all fours, turns him on real good.

Dante who is a whopping 6'3, is like Vergil, embarrassed, that his significant other is a whole 5 inches taller than him. It's quite embarrassing if you're out for a walk and he just pretends you're a friend and what-not.

He should know by now that doing that sort of thing gets him in a lot of trouble. One time he introduced you to Lady and Trish as a "friend" and let's just say later that night he swore he could see God.

Nero is a 6'2 cutie pie and honestly is not that embarrassed about it, he's chill with you being taller than him, all he knows is that you'll give him great cuddles, considering that you'll probably wrap your entire body around him.

The only thing he does get embarrassed about is that he sometimes needs your help to grab something off a shelf that's just a little bit out of his reach.

I have a feeling that one time he wanted to try something different, so the next thing you know Nero's head is slightly grazing against the roof as you're busy lapping your tongue around his shaft in the damn shower, yea let's just say the next day he's having headaches from bumping the roof so much.

V who is 6'4 (I think) has no problem with you being taller than him, as long as he has someone there to take care of him and protect him, he's doesn't care.

What's his favorite is when, let's say, you're busy ordering food, he walks up right next to and stands up on his toes, then directly in your ear he whispers the most dirtiest thing he could think of, and just leaves as if he hadn't peeped a word. The reaction you get while the face you give him always makes him smile.

What's another of his favourites is when he's sitting directly at the end of the bed, with absolutely nothing on. The way you slowly walk towards and tower over him, what he likes to do during the time that you're towering over him is he likes to slowly spread his legs open, showing that he's all yours, you're the hunter and he's oh so definitely the prey.

A/N: Fun Fact: a lot of the stuff I write is actually inspired/based off of other people's posts, but I'm too scared to tag them, like this post is inspired by the way @shes-claws-deep writes, but unfortunately she hasn't been active in 3 years, so I feel somewhat safe tagging her 😭😭😭

[fyod]

angel devil is so small and light. he makes my size kink go ballistic.

having angel in your lap, spread wide open with his legs hooked over your arms as you drag him up and down the length of your cock. he’s sobbing all over you, grappling for a place to hold onto because you’re moving way too fast.

angel could hardly breathe, having the breaths punctured out of him by your thrusting. like a cocksleeve, you used his hole, hitting his prostate after every rabid plunge. it was borderline painful. you just had to make sure his walls remembered how long you were, how thick you were and good you made him feel.

angel made it so easy to use his body being so small and lightweight. you’ll bend and fold his body into all kinds of compromising positions until you were satisfied. super selfish of you but it’s not like he didn’t get anything out this, the way his eyes roll into the back of his head, the drool running down his chin, his mouth dripping with pornographic moans — there’s no way angel didn’t like this.

he all but sobs, overwhelmed by the wildfire spreading across his body. angel’s little cock looked pitiful slapping against his belly, all red and twitchy. you haven’t touched it since and you didn’t plan to, opting to please him with just your body as he does for you. <3

[alwachart]

Does Raphael switch?

[xxbunnyboy]

Mutuals to start planning matching halloween content with

[genacity]

GEN TURNING 20 NEXT WEEK? WHERED ALL THE TIME GO.

Anyways listen to this, you don’t have to write a fic but I need to share with you 🫶

Imagine you and scara being academic rivals, who always tease the other person about getting a lower grade then themmmmwkhdwkhelwhej

🎐ANON HEHEHEHEH

hey 🎐 LMFAOO

if ur reading this i have officially turned 20 years of age and lord do i feel old .

but anyways THIS IS SO GOOD I LOVE ACADEMIC RIVAL TROPES ESP WHEN THERES THIS OBVIOUS SEXUAL TENSION EVERYONE JUST SEEMS TO IGNORE FOR SOME REASON

and while scara’s showing off his grade, swinging his 100 in your face with a cocky grin, he can’t imagine the anger and frustration you could take out on him right in front of the entire class. 🤯

[petertingle-yipyip]

DEVIL ON MY SHOULDER - MATT MURDOCK

one - criminal

// tags: @ironprincessstranger //mad at god (s1)// two // masterlist

Pairing: Unofficial Matt Murdock x Reader (DD X Vigilante!Reader)

Word Count: 8,810

Summary: With Wilson Fisk in the past, Exodus tries to move forward without Daredevil. But a strange meeting leads to potentially another threat… Or maybe an ally.

“How you feeling?” Karen asked as you plopped on your couch.

“Exhausted. It’s hot even at night.” You sighed and threw your mask to your coffee table. “And avoiding Daredevil is harder than I thought it would. He’s everywhere.”

“So stop avoiding him and talk it out.” She laughed. “After all, isn’t he your friend?”

“No.” You said firmly, crossing your arms. “Well, not anymore. I’m still mad at him. All he had to do was mind his damn business for one night. One night! But noooo… If he hadn’t gotten in my way, I could’ve-“ You groaned and rubbed a hand across your face. “I could’ve made sure that Fisk was done. For good. Мертвый и ушел.” (Dead and gone.)

“You’re mad at him but you still wear the suit he gave you?” She raised a brow in playful accusation.

“It's very light and breathable and the- the- the plates are really strong and-” You tried to defend but the look she gave you made you laugh. “Okay, shut up!” You complained with a grin as you unzipped the top and threw it on the table with a huff. 

“Look, Fisk is locked up.” She reassured gently. “You did that. Isn’t that enough?”

“Yeah, but do you really think it’ll last? I’m sorry but I just can’t shake this looming feeling that he’ll be back…” You turned to face her. “With that kind of money and influence, he can buy the best lawyers in the state and get off scot-free.”

“You and the boys won’t work for him though.” She tried. “And you’re the best lawyers I know.”

“I’m not a lawyer… Not yet at least.”

“You thinking of going back to school?”

“No, I already finished school. And I took the Bar Exam. All my t’s are crossed and i’s are dotted. I’m just waiting for everything to be official and come in the mail.”

“Oh my god. Y/N! That’s incredible! The guys don’t know?”

“No. I did my last few classes online while I was in London, picking up odd jobs with a friend. When I had to leave him, I came here and took my exam, finished the last few steps in the process… Should be coming in any day now, but I think I put the London address cause I didn’t plan on staying. I’ll have to call the guy I got the place from and have him send it over.”

“How could you not tell them?”

You raised your brows and gestured to your Widow suit, emphasizing your point by flicking the Red Room emblem.

“There’s a lot I don’t tell them, Karen.” You deadpanned.

“Okay, fair point.” She laughed.  “But you have to tell them this!” She insisted with a wide smile.

“I know, I know. I probably will…”

“Probably? Y/N, they’d be so proud of you!”

“It’s just not a very pressing conversation topic lately.. Besides, they like to tease me about being half a lawyer… Which actually reminds me, I want a promotion.”

“Wait.” She chuckled slightly. “You want to downplay your success for the sake of your male friends’ egos? Since when!?”

“It’s not for their egos.” You laughed. “It’s just- I don’t know, easier? They’ll wanna make me a partner and put my name on the firm and I just- It kinda feels like one of those group projects where someone slaps their name on it so they don’t fail, even though they hardly contributed..”

“You deserve it, Y/N. You should tell them.”

“When the fancy stuff gets here, I will. I’ll even let you guys throw me a party.” You nodded and you held up a hand with your pinky sticking out. “Pinky promise.”

She faked a gasp. “So serious. You can’t break these, yknow.” She joked and hooked her small finger around

yours.

“I am aware, yes.” You giggled. “But for now, starting tomorrow, I’m a paralegal slash disabilities assistant. I know and do too much around there to not be a paralegal.”

“Sounds good to me.”

The next day at the office was full of small cases, civil suits that seemed a bit silly to you but Nelson and Murdock helped the little guy. You and Karen worked to get them organized and in some sort of a queue for when the boys arrived. You had just gotten everyone settled when you were able to take a breath and pull your hair up.

“Look what the cat dragged in.” You commented when they finally walked through the doors. “Let me guess. He-“ You gestured towards Matt “-fell in a hole and you-“ You gestured to Foggy. “-had to fish him out, leaving your office manager and your favorite paralegal to handle everything.”

“Good morning to you too, Y/N.” Foggy nodded with a smile. “Morning, Karen.”

“Hey guys.” She answered absently as she sorted some files.

“Paralegal?” Matt asked, stopping his steps to his office. He turned to you with a lazy, amused smile.

“As of this morning.” You nodded with a smile.

“That can only mean that you’re back on the lawyer train.” Foggy said proudly. “Nelson, Murdock, and Y/L/N is back in action.”

“Stop it.” You pointed to Foggy, who put his hands up in surrender. “It doesn’t mean anything as of right now.”

“Means a lot.” Matt said gently, reaching out to give your elbow a gentle squeeze. “So, what have we got?”

“Little bit of everything.” You said with a chuckle. “Karen?”

“Mr. Marino’s dog was viciously beaten by his neighbor after the dog um- “ She began and cleared her throat awkwardly, to which you chuckled. “-defiled the neighbor’s statue of St. Francis.”

You covered your mouth to hide your giggles as Matt laughed through his response.

“Defiled?” His brows raised playfully.

“Humped repeatedly until completion.” She answered with the same awkwardness.

“To the patron saint of animals, no less.” You playfully scolded, making Matt chuckle. 

“How dare he?” Matt said with a grin.

“That is a dog I want to defend.” Foggy nodded, offering Mr. Marino a thumbs up.

“And then Mr. Maxwell was attacked in a bar fight last night.” You continued, pointing to the slightly roughed up biker.

“He started it.” Maxwell defended.

“I already called Metro General and the guy’s gonna recover, but if we start to lean towards a trial, it’s gotta wait till his jaw is unwired.” 

“Your girl’s a badass.” Maxwell said proudly, looking at Matt more than Foggy.

“You’re not wrong.” You laughed, rubbing the mark ove ryour eyebrow.

The gashes from your mask jamming into you during your fight with Fisk were mostly healed, now just discolored scars that weren’t as long as they originally had been. Lucky for you, you could hide the cuts with makeup until they started to shrink and you could come up with an excuse. As far as the boys knew, one was caused by a broken zipper on your dress and the other was the dewclaw of a stray dog.

“And Miss Jacinto just got her third denial of working papers. Dad’s gone and factory work is all she has for her family… Karen pulled her DOE applications but I think we can do better.”

“Good, cause we will.” Matt nodded and stepped into his office, you and your friends following behind.

Foggy paused to acknowledge the small table of bananas and pie, giving an enthusiastic response after Karen explained it. You shut the door most of the way once everyone was in, knowing what conversation was coming next.

“So I had installed this free trial accounting software on my computer and um..” Karen began while you stepped around the group to sit on the edge of Matt’s desk. “We’re broke as in, our income can’t cover our bills.”

“We’ll manage.” Matt said optimistically with a shrug. “I don’t know how but I know we will.”

“Optimism isn’t enough, Matt.” You said simply. “I love what we do here but we can’t do it much longer if we go into debt.”

“I know but-“

“I can make a few calls.” You offered. “I know some people who can help. They’d probably love to.”

“No, we can figure it out on our own.” Matt answered.

“Matt, just let me-“

“It’ll be okay.” He cut in, a certain finality in his voice.

You simply sighed and offered a small nod, giving up on the argument. And that’s how disagreements had been going between you and Matt the past few times, creating a new pattern. You two would have opposite views and when the other tried to counter it, they were met with a short and almost final response. One that wasn’t open to continuing the topic. So the other person would drop it, but the lingering looks of concern from your friends and almost chokingly thick atmosphere of tension were hard for you to miss.

Everyone understood that there was a shift, in you and in Matt, which had changed the way you and Matt interacted with each other. There was more tension, more resignations. Neither of you would admit it, but you saw each other differently. Though neither of you understood what happened to the other to change their point of view, individually you both knew.

For Matt, though he would never tell anyone, it was thanks to Exodus. The way she left him on that rooftop, left covered in blood that was and wasn’t hers. The way her voice lingered in his head every night since, a voice without the Russian accent he had grown accustomed to hearing.

If you get in my way again, I won’t hesitate to kill you.

He didn’t doubt she would intend to, but he also believed that she wouldn’t. Maybe even couldn’t. They were partners, friends even. They worked together to take down Fisk and it was only a matter of time until they were on the same side again. He cared about her and the knowledge of her still combing the streets of Hell’s Kitchen at night without him, it hurt him more than he would ever admit. Especially on the night where he would find her, only for her to run the other way. But even so, the sound of her voice, it was too familiar to forget.

Like a voice he had been hearing for years, a voice he loved to hear. After that night, he started to wonder how he knew her…

You, on the other hand, were acting different because of Daredevil. The man who you had thought was warming up to you and your flaws had - from your perspective - turned his back on you. He ultimately chose to stand against you, rather than beside you. He chose to save Fisk, to put the monster in a cell rather than a coffin. And you hadn’t forgiven him for it. Maybe you never would.

Either way, it made you reevaluate the people you trusted. Karen had softened up towards you and was truly someone you could regard as a friend. You were beyond thankful for that, especially in those moments when you saw yours and Matt’s friendship cracking apart. Foggy had been never more oblivious to your nightly escapades so there was never a question there. But Matt…

He asked too many questions, held too many suspicions. And what made it worse was that he would ask the very specific questions.

What happened to your hands?

Your voice is scratchy. Are you sick?

You didn’t answer your phone last night. Where’d you go?

Are you sure there’s nothing going on I should know about?

What do you mean, you didn’t sleep? What kept you up?

There was a disconnect between you and Matt now because he was paying a bit too close of attention to you. And you tried mentioning it to Karen, that Matt was poking around a bit too much but she brushed off your concerns, saying that he just cared about you and was worried.

That night, Foggy convinced the entirety of your friend group to go out for drinks and it was the most normal thing you had done in weeks. You had almost forgotten how good it felt to leave the suit in its case and just breathe, to just live. You and Matt were making jokes while Karen and Foggy were shooting a game of pool. It almost felt like nothing had changed.

“You sure you’re not being hustled here?” Matt asked Foggy after Karen landed a great shot.

“That’s why I didn’t want to play against her.” Foggy pointed firmly to you, making you laugh and throw your hands up in surrender.

“I didn’t-“ You laughed. “What did I do?”

“I remember college.” He said firmly, squinting his eyes in suspicion that made you drop your forehead to Matt’s shoulder while you laughed.

“Oh no, I can’t shoot pool. Oh no, I’m terrible.” He mocked you and you began losing your breath and nearly collapsed as you laughed, remembering the night you fooled him. Matt’s free hand came up to your arm when he felt you wobble. “Then boom. Perfect break.” Foggy deadpanned.

“I-“ You tried, though the sound was more of a wheeze. You shook your head and waved your hands, signaling that you couldn’t answer.

“She got, what, twenty bucks out of you that night?” Matt laughed and pulled you a bit closer to him.

“Forty!“ Foggy exclaimed.

“That’s on you for betting that much.” Karen giggled, high-fiving you on her way around the table.

“Betrayal. All of you.” Foggy said simply. “Take over, buddy. Be right back.” He passed Matt the pool cue and ducked away.

“I’m a little offended he didn’t hand it to me.” You said, finally able to refill your lungs with air and stand on your own.

“Maybe he wanted to take it easy on me.” Karen said playfully.

“Cause you’ll go easy on Matt?” You raised a brow to which she offered a devious smile. “You’re going to hustle a blind man!” You laughed.

“You hustled his best friend.” She grinned in return.

“This place always brings out something special in Foggy.” Matt said fondly.

“Sure it’s not the alcohol?” Karen teased.

“It’s the company.” You smiled. “He loves when all of us are together.”

“Yeah, we’d be doing this the rest of our lives if it were up to him.” Matt continued.

“It’d be a good life.” You nodded in agreement.

“As long as you two aren’t fighting over something stupid.” Karen nodded. 

“Low blow, Page.” You shook your head with a small scoff.

When it came time for Matt’s shot, Karen instructed him. You hung back, feeling their emotions spike when they got closer than usual or when their hands touched. It wasn’t quite love, but the longing and admiration were palpable. You smiled softly to yourself and twisted your wrist discreetly, mimicking turning up a dial. You upped both of their desires and watched as they both blushed and separated with nervous chuckles or coughs.

Karen would be good for Matt, you decided. As much as you adored him - probably even loved him - you knew your double life would be too much. And even if you told him, it was unlikely that things could ever be romantic after that. So friends you two would stay, and you knew over time, you’d be okay with it. But until then, you sighed as the sadness cooled your skin, admittedly a refreshing sensation compared to the recent heat.

“I thought you were gonna watch them.” Foggy scolded playfully when he came back to your side. “I was gone two minutes.”

“You didn’t tell me anything about babysitting.” You defended with a laugh as Karen headed over to the bar.

You turned to watch as she left while Foggy was talking but your attention caught on a shifty guy at the bar who ended up next to Karen.

He was staring at you three, nervousness radiated off him in waves. You could feel his apprehension but also there was a hard intent behind his stare. Though you tried to feel deeper into him, you couldn’t. Like there was nothing below those surface emotions. But the way he moved in his seat, the way his hand was tucked under his coat, you decided you had to get closer. 

“I’m just gonna…” You trailed off as you headed to Karen’s side.

Gently, you put your hands on her arms and guided her to your opposite side to put yourself next to the man. She looked at you with furrowed brows but you simply shook your head. You discreetly jabbed your thumb towards the man, to which she nodded and was quick to bring the drinks back to the guys.

“You doing alright over there?” You asked casually once Karen was gone. You glanced over to make sure and saw she was talking to Foggy and Matt, who were both seemingly focused in your direction. “Seem a little tense.”

“It ain’t what you think.” He said tightly. “I got business here.”

“I don’t think you know what I think.” You chuckled in annoyance as you faced him. “Whatever business you have here, pack it up and find somewhere else to do it. I won’t tell you again.”

“Got business with Nelson and Murdock.” The man answered as he stood. You sidestepped to block his path as your hands tightened into fists at your side.

“What makes you think you can get to them?” You challenged with an upward tilt of your chin.

“Hey.” Matt said suddenly from your side, a hand landing on your lower back. His touch made your whole body tense but you were quick to relax, loosening your hands and crossing your arms over your chest. “What’s going on? Who’s this?”

“You must be the blind one.” The man answered. “Looking for Nelson and Murdock.”

Matt nodded and gestured for the man to come to the other side of the bar, your friend group joining him around one of the small tables. You put yourself between Matt and the other guy, Karen on Matt’s other side between him and Foggy. Matt had tried to get to that spot before you did, but you were quick to reach around and guide him to the seat next to you. He frowned at you and gently tried to pull you to switch but you refused to budge.

You tuned in and out of the man’s story. It seemed fabricated, dramatized to earn sympathy. But as you read his emotions, you didn’t find any hint of smugness or pride that normally comes with getting people to believe a story like that. There was remorse, fear almost, along with nerves.

“Burren Club, 47th and 10th. Can’t miss it.” He explained and you were quick to commit the address to memory.

Karen leaned around Matt to look at you and you offered a brow raise and an acknowledging tilt of your head. You saw her shoulders rise and fall with a quiet sigh before you turned back to the man from the bar. 

“And your involvement in the organization is?” You asked simply.

“Who’s she?” He looked to Foggy and you scoffed.

“Answer the question.”

“Ran for Brannigan for a long time… Did some things I probably shouldn’t have… But the guys I work for, the guys that did this…” He let out a long sigh. “I’m telling you, I had nothing to do with that massacre.”

“Assuming you’re right and the Irish were hit by a powerful crime syndicate tonight…” Matt started. “If you’re the only one that survived-“

“Someone’s bound to come back and tie off this loose end.” You cut in, leaning your elbows against the table. “What do you expect us to do for you, Mr…?”

“Relax.” Matt said quietly, trying to discreetly pull you to sit back.

“Last time we took a case when we didn’t get a name, it was a shit case, right? You really trynna do that again?” You answered in the same hushed tone, to which he nodded reluctantly in response. 

“Grotto.”

“Grotto what?” Matt pressed as if it was his idea to get a name.

“Just Grotto.” He answered, which made you roll your eyes as you sat back with arms folded. 

“I just need you guys to get me the hell out of here before I permanently end up in the only place hotter than this.”

“Witness protection.” You nodded, knowing it wasn’t an impossible thing to ask. “Could be doable.”

“We’re a private law firm.” Matt began before Grotto cut in.

“Yeah, a trustworthy one… Got quite a reputation after you took out Wilson Fisk.”

The mention of that case made you grind your teeth, thinking of how it didn’t go down the way it should’ve.

“DA’s office is the only place that can make a deal.” Foggy explained.

“And I’m not walking to the DA without representation. I know and seen a lot. I’ll give the cops anything they want to get out of Hell’s Kitchen.” He said honestly, desperation practically spilling onto the table. 

“We have a reputation of representing the good people of Hell’s Kitchen, not negotiating on behalf of career criminals.” Matt said and the words seemed to slice you more than they affected Grotto.

“And if that criminal wants to change careers?” You asked, staring at the table as you settled your riled up nerves. Karen cleared her throat and when you peaked up, you saw she was already staring at you in warning. “You’re gonna tell me you don’t believe in changes of heart? Second chances?”

“You’re actually on my side?” Grotto asked in disbelief.

“Wasn’t that your point?” You countered smoothly.

“You weren’t exactly warm and welcoming a few minutes ago.”

“And you haven’t taken that hand out from under your jacket since you walked in.” You pointed out, nodding your head towards his hidden hand. “So I really don’t think you should be challenging who is or isn’t on your side.”

“Y/N..” Karen said gently, though you felt the warning in her words. “Tone it down a little…”

“I know I got nobody to vouch for me and I can barely cover your fee but… Word is that Nelson and Murdock put their faith in people and I- I could use a little bit of that right now.” Grotto was practically begging.

Your friends were huddled together and muttering about what to do about it but you hadn’t taken your eyes off Grotto. You watched as his eyes went wide as he shook his head, swaying in his seat. Matt began to ask a question but the man collapsed and fell to the ground. You had already begun to move and catch him so you were able to get your hand under his head before he hit the floor. You glanced towards your friends as you knelt by Grotto’s side but only saw Karen coming over. 

“He’s bleeding.” Karen noted, carefully moving his jacket out of the way.

After having gotten an ambulance to come get Grotto, Matt and Foggy decided to turn in. Karen offered to go with Grotto and asked what you would do. You shrugged and said there was a club you had meaning to check out, knowing you didn’t have to full on say it for her to get it.

You hurried home, changed into your Exodus suit, and headed to the Burren Club. It was easy to see the lights on the cop cars from blocks away so you tapped your scar and tried to listen in on police chatter. There were random calls from their dispatchers but nothing about that incident so you turned it off. Instead, you snuck your way to the rooftop opposite of the club and used the new lenses of your mask to get a better look.

But the first thing you saw was Matt and Foggy. Your attention snagged on the boys while they talked to Brett, likely trying to get some intel and check out the validity of Grotto’s story. But you noticed Foggy was doing most of the talking while Matt was just listening.

“What are you listening for?” You murmured, leaning over the edge a bit more.

As if Matt heard you, he tilted his head up and turned towards your hiding spot. You didn’t flinch and didn’t hide, rather you held your position with the confidence that he couldn’t see you.

But it did make you wonder if he heard you…

Matt turned and said something to Brett that you couldn’t hear but could tell was something of interest if Brett grabbed a passing officer to scold him. Your brows furrowed as the three stepped further from the crowds and you started to wonder if you would sneak a mic onto Matt’s cane. Out of curiosity, you followed the trio and hopped down into the nearest alleyway.

You crept as close to the street as you could while still having shadows to hide in so you could eavesdrop on what Brett knew. You focused on key words that you knew would likely mean solving more later; the theory was paramilitary, they were capable of taking out half the city, and the DA had no leads. You heard one of the other officers mention the Dogs of Hell had been hit recently too, being that their members were currently taking residency at the morgue.

Though the conversation didn’t give you too many leads, you knew it was something to start. You had to get a hold of local underground arms dealers, see if they’re selling bigger things than pistols and pump action shotguns. You had to check the usual back alley haunts for someone - or multiple someones - who didn’t belong. 

You figured starting with the Dogs of Hell would be the best bet. If anyone has seen what happened, maybe there’d be more of a starting point. A silhouette you could watch for or a vague description you could work down to something more specific. But as you were approaching the building, you saw a familiar pink shirt entering the building.

“Он сам себя убьет.” You complained and slammed a fist against the wall beside you. (He’s gonna get himself killed.)

You ran across the street and hurdled the trash building up in the alleyway until you reached the back door. There were two men posted out back, playing cards and smoking. They didn’t even notice you until you were right beside them.

“He has an ace tucked into his belt.” You commented, your usual Russian accent dancing in your voice.

They both turned on you and held their guns up.

“I have questions, maybe you boys can answer. You help me and I don’t crack your skulls on the pavement.” You tried, though they yelled for you to leave. “What happened to your men last week? What do you know?”

When you were greeted with nothing but shouts to leave, you shrugged. You made a move first, running at one and jamming a knee into his chest to slam him against the wall behind him. The other tried to grab you so you reached up and hooked your arm around his neck.

You used the first man as a foothold and flipped over, pulling the second man into a very uncomfortable bridge position. You dropped to a knee and brought him down with you, his spine slamming against your opposite upraised knee with a deep and echoing crack. You pushed him to the side before returning to the first man and grabbed him by his shirtfront, leaning several punches to his face until the skin split and the man fell unconscious.

Just in time for the door to open.

You hand shot to your belt as you ducked out of sight between a dumpster and the building. The huge man was towering over someone he had thrown in front of him, but even without seeing him, you recognized the voice. It was Foggy.

“Put it away.” You warned firmly when you saw the glint of a knife. Your Bite was now glowing as you lifted your bloodied hand and stepped into view, the biker now turning to face you. “Put it down or I will make you.”

“Holy shit.” Foggy breathed.

“This ain’t about you.” The biker warned, though there was a waiver in his voice. “So mind your business.”

“You just made it my business.” You said simply. “I won’t ask nicely again.”

“I helped a guy named Foster.” Foggy tried, though the biker ignored him. “Ricky Wex? … Pope?”

That name caught the man’s attention but he didn’t lower the knife. You moved around him to stand a few steps behind Foggy, lowering your hand but not letting it disarm.

“You helped Pope?” He asked and you realized that Pope meant something to that man. A spark of grief. “Get the hell out of here.”

The man turned his back and you reached for Foggy.

“What happened to Smitty?” Foggy exclaimed.

“Ты шутишь?” You groaned as the man came back with his knife raised. (Are you kidding me?)

You quickly put your forearm up to block his knife and used your other hand to catch it as it fell from his grip. You hooked your foot around his knee and yanked it to bring the man to his knees. You held his own knife to his throat and gestured for him to answer Foggy‘s question.

“Your men were massacred last week and the Irish were slaughtered tonight.” You explained. “Unless you want to join your pals in the morgue, I suggest you talk.”

“If I don’t get answers, a lot of innocent blood could be shed.” Foggy continued. “Please.”

“You got guts, Harvard.” He nodded to Foggy. You took a second to survey the man and found his hostility had come and went so you flipped his knife in your hand and offered it to him by the handle.

“Columbia, actually, and it’s just sheer adrenaline right now.” Foggy replied and you snorted a laugh as you took a few steps to the side. “I wouldn’t be here if doing this wasn’t important.”

“Smitty was on a run down I-90 with four other guys, got hit by an army and cut to pieces. They were left there like roadkill.”

“An army sounds extensive for a five man job.. Who did it?” You asked.

“Some new crew.” The biker shrugged. “But we’re gonna find them and you’re gonna wanna be far away from that action.”

The biker turned and left after that, leaving you and Foggy in the alley. You grabbed Foggy’s arm and began hauling him away, feeling him practically deflate in your grasp.

“Are you insane?” You scolded, taking careful intent to maintain your accent. “He could've killed you.”

“Why are you here?” He asked in counter. “Shouldn’t you be out with Daredevil?”

“Сорвиголова.” You scoffed. “No. I haven’t seen him since he got in my way with Fisk. We aren’t working together anymore.” (Daredevil.)

“What?”

“Listen to me because I will not say it again.” You said firmly, stopping your steps so you could face him. “This is going to get very messy, very fast. You need to keep you and your friends out of it, alright? If anything, work from a distance. Wait for this to come down a legitimate path rather than some back alley bullshit. Got it?”

“Okay..” Foggy said carefully. “Thanks.”

You nodded and took off, not really headed anywhere other than away from Foggy. You weren’t sure where to go from there. Going down I-90 wouldn’t make a difference because it was probably cleaned up and the officers long gone. Local cops had nothing, meaning the morgue had nothing, other than a label for homicide across a herd of bodies. You got yourself to a rooftop and sat on the ledge, wondering what to do next.

Your implant was ringing in your head with your usual cell phone chime. With a confused tilt of your head, you double tapped the scar.

“Yeah?” You answered quickly.

“Where are you?” Karen said in a panic and you could hear the skirting of tires in the background. You quickly jumped to your feet and tapped your mask, looking around as you tried to lock on her cell signal. 

“I see you. On my way.” You answered as you broke into a sprint. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“Someone attacked the hospital!” She screamed and you heard the glass shatter. “He came for Grotto.”

“But you’re alright?”

“For now!”

“Okay. Did you see how many?”

“Yeah… One.”

One?

“Alright, I’ll take care of it. Get somewhere safe and call me back.”

You ended the call and heard the sounds of a fist fight as you neared the hospital roof. You stood on the ledge and checked the surrounding buildings, only barely able to catch a glimpse of the two men fighting. It was easy to recognize his fighting style, even in the dark.

You had just landed when you saw the spark of a gunfire and Daredevil went tumbling over the ledge. You screamed out and the sound drew the attention of his attacker. He scoffed and got to his feet, though now you were pissed.

“Вы заплатите за это.” You sneered. (You’ll pay for that.)

Your anger was collecting in your palms, burning through your skin. You ran at him without hesitation and ducked his shot. You kicked the small gun from his hand and blocked a heavy hit from him. You slammed your fists against his jaw, seeing red puffs of smoke escape each time time you made contact.

He grabbed you by your shirtfront and hoisted you up, his other hand wrapping around your belt as he moved to slam you to your back. You grabbed his wrist and as your fingers dug in, you noticed that where your skin met his was turning red, as if it were burning. Quickly you shook the thought and tucked your legs so you could kick out against his chest. The move sent you two in different directions and you used the gap to jump the ledge you saw Daredevil fall down.

It was easy to recognize that you couldn’t beat him on your own, not as distracted as you were. You had to bail and figure out an actual plan. But at least you gained something. You saw his face.

You turned back and saw the man glaring down at you, bloody faced and angry. You pulled one of your charge disks and offered a fake salute so the movement doubled as the flick. He groaned as the disk landed at the base of his throat and you chuckled before turning to find Daredevil.

He was face down and not moving, making your heart stop. You knelt beside him and carefully rolled him over and tucked your fingers under his cowl, looking for the pulse at his throat.

“C’mon…” You muttered and slid your fingers down. “Please, c’mon.” You repeated with a bit more urgency.

By then, the tears were fogging your mask so you aggressively pulled it to sit around your throat. Your breathing was shaky and you couldn’t even focus enough to get yourself under control. You didn’t even care if he saw what you looked like, if he remembered who you were from when what happened with the Russians. You didn’t care, just as long as he was alive.

Sure, you hadn’t been on the best of terms with Daredevil as of late, but that didn’t mean you wanted to see him die. Especially not by getting shot in the head right in front of you. By some no name, trigger happy bastard with a vendetta.

You let out a quivering breath of relief when you found his pulse and he moved, ever so slightly he had moved his arm almost like he was reaching for you. You slid over so your back was against the small structure that you couldn’t specify in the dark. You very carefully repositioned him in your lap as you leaned your head back and sighed towards the night sky as you slipped your hand into his.

You bit down on the finger of your other glove and pulled your hand free. You tucked the glove into your belt before placing your hand gently on his cheek. Your thumb traced his features idly as your mind raced, but the slow movement was enough to help you settle yourself and focus.

You couldn’t leave him there alone. You knew that much. But where would you take him? Metro General would raise too many questions. You couldn’t get him back to your apartment on your own and you had no idea where he lived. You thought about calling Claire but you didn’t even know if she was back in Hell’s Kitchen.

That would’ve been a good time to actually know each other’s names.

Instead, you decided to stay on that rooftop.

Next thing you knew, your implant was pinging loudly. Opening your eyes, you found it was morning. You wiped your eyes and realized your mask was still down. You were careful to reposition it without moving Daredevil as you answered the call.

“Hey.” You said, sleep hanging on to your voice.

“Thank God you’re alive.” She said quickly. “Are- are you alright?”

“I’m alright, yeah.” You answered.

“I tried calling last night but you didn’t answer.” Karen answered worriedly. “You can’t do that, Y/N. Not with this maniac running around.”

“I know. Yeah, I know. I’m sorry…I promise, I’m fine.” You nodded, looking down at Daredevil. “Someone else… Not so much.”

“What happened?”

“Whoever came after you and Grotto, Daredevil found him first. The guy shot him in the head.”

“Oh my god.” She sighed and you could feel her worry through the call.

“I’m just glad the guy had the protection in his new suit. The idiot’s alive, barely.” You slid your fingers to check his pulse again and while it was stronger than it was last night, it was still weak. “I’ve been on this roof with him all night. I didn’t know where to take him. I thought I didn't care and was done but seeing him like that, I wanted to tear that guy apart…”

“At least he wasn’t alone.” Karen tried and you nodded in agreement. “Well uh- I called Foggy and I told him. Grotto and I are at the precinct. The cops wanna ask him questions about everything.”

“Okay… Foggy say not to let anyone talk to him witho-“

“Without one of them here, yeah.” She cut in. “Yeah, he told me.”

“Good.. I’ll probably head over there when…” You trailed off, hearing footsteps across the roof. “I gotta go.”

You tapped the scar and flexed your hand, lighting up your Bite as the person came closer. You were more than surprised to see Foggy.

“Jesus.” You sighed, easily slipping back into your accent and disarming. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for him.” Foggy answered, kneeling at Daredevil’s other side.

“You know him?” You didn’t bother to hide your shock.

“You don’t?”

“I wouldn’t have stayed on this roof if I did.” You shrugged. “Guess you can’t stay out of it even if you wanted to, can you?”

“Guess not.” Foggy chuckled without humor.

“At least you have a friend you know can protect you.”

“Not if he gets himself killed.” He muttered and you couldn’t help but agree.

“Take care of him for me, okay?” You asked as you helped Foggy get Daredevil to his feet.

“I thought you weren’t friends anymore.”

“When I saw that guy take the shot and he went tumbling, something inside me…” You shook your head, deciding you didn’t need to explain all of it. “I just didn’t like what I saw. I tried taking on the guy on my own but I.. I didn’t have a chance. Probably too distracted but.. Look, just take him home, please.”

“Yeah, thanks for looking out for him.” Foggy nodded and you returned the gesture before heading to your apartment.

You had to get into your building through the rooftop door rather than your usual window. You slipped to your floor using the old stairwell that no one seemed to use anymore and got inside your apartment with no fuss. You ditched your suit quickly and showered, noting the blossoming bruises and busted knuckles as you got ready for the day.

Meanwhile, Matt was just lucky to have survived.

“Y’know, Exodus was there when I found you.” Foggy explained as he handed Matt the Aspirin.

“Exodus?” Matt chuckled. “You met her?”

“She looked like she’d been crying all night.” Foggy pressed. “She saw you get shot. Do you realize that?”

“She probably just would’ve rather been the one who pulled the trigger.” Matt pushed himself up with a groan.

“You’re not listening.” Foggy complained. “She cares about you, Matt.”

“No, she doesn’t.” Matt countered easily. “She only cares about herself.”

Matt didn’t fully believe that though. He was glad that Exodus was there and that maybe she did still care, at least a little bit. But as far as what her actions showed, she wanted nothing to do with him anymore and he wouldn’t force her to fight with him if she wouldn’t even talk to him. He knew saying she only cared about herself was hardly any different than when Fisk said she had no loyalty. And in both cases, it just wasn’t true.

“That’s why she stayed on that roof all night with you?” Foggy shrugged. “She went after that guy once you went down.”

Matt groaned in annoyance. Not because of what Foggy said about her being there, but at the fact that she went after the shooter on her own. He knew she was reckless and brave, but he never knew her to be stupid. 

“All I’m saying is that you should try to make amends before you end up dead. Whatever happened between you and her, whatever you did to piss her off, you need to figure it out beca-“

“She didn’t like that I didn’t let her kill Fisk that night.” Matt snapped. “She didn’t like that I- I- I knew she could be better. I didn’t let her go around and take lives when it wasn’t up to her.”

“You look like shit.” Foggy resigned, knowing the argument would go nowhere with Matt. In that moment, he understood why Y/N didn’t bother arguing with him anymore. “Stay here. Get some rest. I’ll have Y/N come check on you later.”

“Foggy.” Matt sighed. Hiding it from Y/N was the hardest part of the secret, and with all of that, he didn’t know what he would say when she got there.

“Just don’t.. You already know she’s gonna come anyway when you don’t show up to work today.” Foggy reasoned. “And I’ve covered for you enough as it is. Just… Just stay here.”

You got to the precinct just before Foggy did. Grotto was tense, aggressively on edge. Him and Karen were both terrified, the fear from them vibrating through your bones. It was so dense that you felt it as soon as you walked into the precinct, not even near the interrogation room. You had to take a deep breath when you stepped inside and used it to blow away the frazzled buzzing in the air.

“Where’s Murdock?” Grotto asked when Foggy was the only one to walk in.

“He took a sick day.” Foggy answered before he went around the table to talk to Grotto.

You turned to Karen, who was looking at you with the same quizzical expression you wore. You leaned in and spoke quietly.

“He’s hiding something.” You said simply. “Look how freaked he is.”

“You think it’s about Matt?” She asked in the same hushed tone.

“Or the fact that he knows Daredevil and ran into her this morning.” You shrugged a shoulder. “Either way, I’m guessing it’s another ‘hit by a car’ situation like that one time.”

“Wait. Back up. What?“ 

You shushed her once the door opened. You nodded to Brett and he gave you a slight wave. After a brief conversation between Brett and Grotto, your trio and Brett stepped out to let him change. You blew out a sigh as you followed Brett, listening to what Brett knew about the shooter.

“Vigilante type.” Brett explained, causing Karen to sneak a glance at you. You were focused on Brett but you saw her glance at your peripherals. “Targeting different crime families.”

“But not in a Daredevil-type way.” You added. “He kicks some ass and the city cheers like we won the goddamn World Series.”

“Not even in an Exodus-type way either.” Brett agreed and your brows raised. “She’s something else but even she doesn’t do this… Anyway, he makes a lot of people question the whole ‘hero’ idea.”

“And what do you think about it? I’m guessing not a whole lot of cops love Daredevil or Exodus.”

“Whole force is split, actually.” Brett shrugged. “Some cops want ‘em gone. Some say they make the job a whole lot easier.”

“But what do you think?”

“I think it’s only a matter of time before the wrong person gets caught in the crossfire.”

“You put it that way, I guess copycats were inevitable.” Foggy added.

“Not even the first, just the latest.” Brett said simply.

You nodded slightly in acknowledgment. You thought about the whole thing while Brett continued talking to Foggy about it. You figured your actions would inspire others to do the same. But you hadn’t thought of how wild it would be. Would that man really have claimed you and Daredevil as inspiration? Could you two really be responsible for a man who opened fire in a hospital?

It made you want to crawl out of your skin.

Targeting the crime families was one thing. It was something you had your fair share of experience with, considering your elimination of the Russians not that long ago. But to put innocent people at risk, just to get to one man? That didn’t sit right with you and it only made you want to find him and get answers.

You needed to take a walk.

“Hey.” You asked Foggy when Brett left. “Do you got this? I wanna go check on Matt. He was fine last night so it’s probably just food poisoning or something with the heat lately but y’know…” You shrugged at your lame excuse.

“Uh..” Foggy looked around and sighed. “Yeah, I got it. Go ahead.”

“You sure? Cause I can stay if you need me.”

“Yeah.” He offered a small smile. “DA’s assistant shouldn’t be too hard to handle.”

“You’ve got Karen, too.” You added and Karen agreed. “I just-“

“You worry about him.. I know.” Foggy nodded and offered a knowing smile.

“Thanks.” You smiled and hurried out.

The walk to Matt’s was quiet so you were able to think. It wasn’t so much that you wanted to stop this new guy. Granted, you didn’t appreciate him blowing holes in people all over town, but it’s not like he was killing good people. He did what you did, but messier. You thought about how you get to him again, get a time where you could get him to talk. Find out his motives, his goals. From there, you could decide if you wanted to fight with him or against him.

You tapped on Matt’s door with two quick knocks. You waited a minute to see if he would open it but he didn’t. You assumed he was asleep so you let yourself in. Coming into the living room, you found Matt around the corner.

Before you could say anything, he had knocked over the glass of water on the corner of the table. You yelped in surprise and jumped back, letting the glass shatter at your feet. You tossed your purse and blazer onto the couch and stepped around Matt to get a towel from the kitchen. You came back to the mess and knelt down, laying the towel over the entirety of the mess.

Your actions stopped when you heard Matt shout. Your head snapped up and your fists tightened, mind racing. You instantly thought something had happened. Someone followed you, the shooter from the hospital maybe. He saw you without your mask last night and was coming to kill you. But looking around, you quickly realized no one was there.

“Matt?” You tried gently as you crossed the room to kneel beside him, though he seemed to ignore you and screamed again. “Matt?”

You reached forward carefully and put a hand on his shoulder, one he quickly jumped away from. You furrowed your brows and reached out again, only this time Matt took a sloppy swing at you. You leaned away easy enough and caught his wrist, slipping your hand in his instead.

“Who…” He said quietly, nearly a whisper. You didn’t need your ability to know he was terrified.

“It’s me.” You answered in the same hushed tone as you guided his hand to your cheek. “You’re okay..”

His thumb traced your cheekbone before following the bridge of your nose to your lips. It reminded you of the first time he felt your face in college.

“Y/N..” He said, so desperately it was almost a whine.

He shifted to lean his shoulders against the wall instead of his back while the hand that was on your face went behind your neck. His other hand wrapped around your waist and he pulled you into his chest. You let out a small ‘oof’ as you fell into his lap but your arms went around him while he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

“I can’t… I can’t hear.” He mumbled against your skin. “I can’t hear.”

You closed your eyes and focused on him. His fear hadn’t changed but there was a relief mixed in. He was glad to not be alone but also terrified of losing another sense. You thought of how you could help him if he couldn’t hear you, so you took a chance and used your power.

You knew that emotions could relay messages and hold weight, depending on how individual people interpreted them. As you had been recently developing your powers to be more precise, you began learning that if you put enough intention behind what you did, you could essentially send a specific message.

So that’s what you did. Through the close grip he had on you, you let yourself absorb some of his fear and replace it with comfort, safety. You focused until those two emotions were nearly balanced and the physical tension in his body subsided. His hold on you tightened, practically begging for you not to leave him.

You’re gonna be okay. You’re not alone.

“Thank you.” He finally broke the silence after you didn’t know how long. He loosened his hold on you so you sat back to see him clearly. You kept hold of his hands loosely while he talked. “I’m glad you came by.”

“Something happened…” You said sadly, though you didn’t expect him to hear you. His head tilted but you kept going. “I know you won’t tell me but.. No one suddenly goes deaf unless something drastic happens… But, again, you won’t tell me so, I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I don’t want to worry you.” He said honestly, giving your hands a squeeze.

“Then be more careful.” You scolded when you realized he heard you. “Cause if we lose you, I… I don’t have a lot left.”

“I’m sorry. Really, I am.” He offered a lopsided smile. “I’ll try, okay?”

“Promise me.”

“What?” He chuckled.

“Promise me.” You repeated firmly.

“Okay, okay.” He smiled, letting go of one of your hands to cross his heart. “I swear.”

“Thank you.” You nodded. “Now, I need to go.”

“Wait. Really?” Matt said quickly as you got to your feet.

“Yes, really. Foggy’s down at the precinct and the DA’s office is probably already there. We still have to figure out Grotto’s witpro. I can’t sit here on the floor with you all day.”

Even if you wanted to. Even if you wanted to remain in his embrace, listening to his heart beat. Feeling safe. 

“Right.” Matt nodded, though his disappointment hit you in the chest like a brick.

“But call me if you need anything… Okay?” You said as you grabbed your stuff. “I’ll come as soon as I can.”

“Yeah, yeah, I will. Thanks, Y/N/N.”

“See ya later, Matty.”

You peaked at your phone on the way out and saw a text from Karen.

karen : DA office says it’s one guy. 

karen: they almost have a complete profile

karen: “the Punisher”

[magnificent-winged-beast]

The wrath of the Angel of the lord... I want it upon me 😳

[https-cyber-slxt]

Bang Bang Bang Bang

Sub!V x FemDom!Reader

So we put on our eyeliner

And a bit of glitter dust

Life at night is always finer

Neon streets are full of lust

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I've started playing DMC recently and OMG I LOVE IT <33333

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You sit silently on the couch in the van, Lady wrapped all snug in her blanket next to you, her eyes avert to your wrists, a pretty bracelet wrapped around it. She grabs it and brings it closer to her face, "When did you get this?" Curiosity in her voice. "Oh, uh V gave it to me last night" you confessed.

She lifts her eyebrow at you. "Last night? But Nero told me you were out with him last night" "It's called lying, Lady" she sighs in response as she let's your wrist free.

The door slams open, a bloody Nero and V enter the van, both of their faces filled with tiredness, you stand up and rush towards V, a look of worry on your face. "Don't worry, I'm fine" he reassures you before you even get a word out.

You grab his arm and he winces from the pain. "Doesn't look like it" you snarl back. He lowly chuckles at you, you were very overprotective of him and he was fond of it, but sometimes you were a little too crazy for him.

"Move lovebirds, I just got something really cool!" Nico pushes the two of you apart as she heads inside her station, cooking up whatever disasterous masterpiece in there. You sigh as you drag V towards the couch, dragging the medkit out from underneath it.

You take the bandage and wrap it tightly around his arm. After finishing up your work, you put away the medkit and sit next to V, wrapping your arms around his uninjured one and leaning your head on his shoulder, slowly falling asleep.

| 5:34 PM |

Your eyes blink open as you feel around you, V nowhere to be found, you sit yourself up and rub your eyes, the silence of the van creeping you out.

Your ears ring uncomfortably as you stand up, almost tripping over your own feet, Jesus, what the hell happened while you were sleeping? Your ears stop ringing and the sound around you becoming clearer.

The sound of soft moans fill your ears immediately after, your eyes widen as you look behind you, V's hand being the only thing visible to you.

You slowly walk towards him, making sure to not make any noise, as you walk right next to him, a loud gasp escapes you, causing him to snap his head directly towards you.

"M-my l-love! I did-didn't know you would be awake s-so early" he whimpers as his thighs shake from his previous actions. You look down at his crotch and there he sat, no pants, no underwear, no nothing.

"W-what were you-" your sentence was cut-off as you realize what he was doing, you walk in front of him and spread his legs even further with your shoes.

He looks up at you in embarrassment as you eye the base of the dildo that's shoved up his ass, "Please" he says as he passes you a small remote, when did he get a hold of that? You put your thoughts aside as you grab the remote, a bunch of different numbers and buttons on it.

You press the highest number on the remote, V arches his back as a choked moan escapes him, without hesitation he starts bouncing up and down on the toy, high pitched moans leave his lips as his eyes roll into the back of his head. You lean against the counter next to you and watch your boyfriend lose himself in pleasure.

His brain is basically already mush as he starts speaking nonsense. "F-fuuuck, hAH! Hah, fuck, it-it's so g-good, pl-please more, g-give me more, please mommy"

He slips that name out by accident, not even crossing his mind as he only thinks about all the pleasure he's receiving from the toy. You stand there lost in thought as you think about the name he just called you.

Your fingers figet with the remote as you think about all the things you could do to him. You snap out of thought as V calls out to you. "P-please Mistress, let me cum? I p-promise I'll obey, I'll do anything! Just let me cum~"

His begs were slowly turning into babbles again as he rants on about you letting him cum, his words were then interrupted by yours. "Hmm, I dunno... Have you been a good boy lately?" You smirk at his figure becoming smaller from your question. "Ah! Hah~ y-yes, oh god, I've been su-such a good boy fo-for you-" His words were cut off as you step on his cock, a choked moan escaping him as his hand grips your shin, trying to pull you off him.

Your boot presses harder on his cock, forcing him to let go and attempt to grab the floor beneath him. His legs shook as you press even harder onto his cock. "Don't lie to me puppy, you've been a bad boy, and you know what happens to bad boys?" Your smirk growing even wider as his glossy eyes look a up at you. "B-bad boys get p-punished~" he hiccups as he tries to pull you off again to no avail.

"That's right! Bad boys do get punished! Stand up." You demand, he pulls himself off the dildo and tries to stand up, he falls back against the wall, oh well that's good enough. You gently bend him over the counter and spread his legs as wide as they can, you kneel down behind him and smack his plump ass, he yelps in pleasure as continue to mess with his sentive ass.

You spread his ass cheeks open to reveal his desperate hole. "Mi-misstress, what a-are you-" his sentence was cut off by your tongue entering his asshole, he whimpers as he feels your tongue inside him, this whole feeling was foreign to the poor boy. So feeling your tongue make work of him turned him on more than he liked.

He grabs the back of your head and forces you deeper inside him, he moans as he bucks his hips forwards. "Oh-oh! I'm go-gonna cum!" As soon as he said those words, you grabbed his hand and pulled your tongue out. That was the second times you've edged him. V basically falls limp on to the counter as his legs nearly give up on him.

You grab him again and push him against the wall, he moans as you grab his hair, you push his upper back more against the wall, forcing him to arch his back in an uncomfortable way. You push your own body against him and he smirks, but the smirk was quickly wiped off as you wrap a hand around his cock, your index finger messing with his sensitive tip. He cries out, panting as if he were a damn thirsty dog on a hot summer day.

You continue to stroke him up and down, not slowing your pace for even a moment, he tells you to slow down but you ignore him and continue to 'somehow' fuck his brains out without anything inside him. He grabs your lower thighs and slighty brushes the tip of his cock against the wall. "Hah! Haaah~ im- I'm gonna-" his sentence was shut by the fingers of your free hand gagging him.

He bucks his hips up as he, without warning, cums onto the wall, his moans gagged against your fingers, he blinks his eyes a couple of times only to realize... You're still going, oh shit.

| 7:54 PM |

You sit shotgun next to Nico as you look out the window, the cigarette in your hand nearly being forgotten as you think about the actions you did just now. You put out your cigarette and look back at V, who was resting his head in his palms as his legs shook violently. Lady looks at him with worrisome. "Oh don't worry! He's just a, uh, a bit shocked, that's all!" You smile at her as she slowly nods her head, unfortunately the puzzle in her head solving itself as the tone in your voice reveals everything.

Who knew V would've been dommed by a Sexy, 6'3 woman, oh Lady definitely wants a turn now.