#felt voodoo

[hyunpic]

hyunjin on instagram: TMA

[prettyholic7]

I never had any fictional crushes in my childhood and I think I'm now compensating for that by crushing hard on every version of the Princess from the game Slay the Princess.

[waugh-bao]

Keith’s track announcement for “Alright Charlie” (1993/Sound On)

[shitvixxsay]

VIXX (LEO, KEN, HYUK) - Shangri-La (2023)

[top-shelf-tender]

@sanguineradio

“The fuck is an evil boop? If you put any of your fuckin’ voodoo shit on me…”

[pnuk-r0ck]

VooDoo but as Carrie White👍

[nabilfekir]

honestly nothing can top the good vibes of the dash full of my goober mutuals after an arsenal win… and that’s from a non-goober

[hollysmakingstuff]

Just listed these cute ornaments in my shop!

[sad--tree]

what up babes it's been a min but guess what yall.....

new hair blue hair babey ! 😎💙💫🦋

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Infernal Shadows

Synopsis: Being one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, you like to keep up with colonies and overlord plans. Recently with the new extermination date out, you hold your annual gala sooner than usual. You hadn’t expected to get in the middle of the already heated feud between the Radio Demon and the head of Vox Tech.

Warnings: She/Her pronouns used for the reader, mentions of blood, voodoo?, Angel Dust being a horn-bag, Reader is referred too as Madame to the public. Vox and Alastor feud because I live for it.

Song for this chapter: The world we knew by Frank Sinatra.

A/N: I wanna make this a three part short story, so if anyone is interested in being tagged in the second part just let me know!! I hope you enjoy!!

Word count: 2655

Navigation!! // Masterlist!!! // Serendipity Writes (event) // Part two

Getting an invite to the annual crimson ball, hosted by yours truly, was nothing but an honor. Every overlord and every sinner in the pride ring waited anxiously for a letter. A black card with white letter in a cursive font stating ‘You have been personally invited by Hells biggest designer. The list of the gala was simple. The usual overlords, Zestial, Carmilla Carmine and her daughters, Zeezie, Rosie, Fredrick Von Eldritch and Bethesda von Eldritch. Alastor who had came back after seven years of hiding god knows where, and by special request, the three vee’s who had never attended the gala before. Then it becomes a bit more political.

Next on the list was the Goetia family, inviting the recently divorced prince with his daughter. Inviting Lucifer and Lilith, though they only ever came when everyone was gone. Then was their daughter Charlotte, who got a plus one as a special perk of being the princess of hell. Husk because he had been an old friend of yours before his status of Overlord was taken from him by none other than Alastor. He was also given a plus one, though he usually never brought anyone extra. Sir Pentious was a candidate, but ultimately scrapped from your list of invites as you felt he was too childish.

The gala was tonight and everything was going smoothly. Preparations were almost done, the foyer was spotless just the way you liked it, and everything seemed to be falling into place. You stared at yourself in the mirror. You had spent months designing your perfect dress for tonight. Everyone attending the gala knew there was only ever one color off limits, because you always wore it best. The color black always suited you perfectly. No one could wear it better than you.

Back at the hotel, Charlie felt guilty for using her authority as princess to have people help her get ready for this gala. Based on what Alastor had told her, there would be a lot of political powers and fellow overlords there. She wanted to look her best if she was going to pitch the hotel to them. She needed more people on board with the project, maybe someone who didn’t think it was complete and utterly ridiculous joke like Alastor did.

“How do I look?” Charlie asked as the makeup and hair artists stepped away from her. Charlie stepped out, allowing Vaggie to get a better look at her in a tailored charcoal gray suit, a departure from her usual vibrant red attire. The jacket, adorned with subtle pinstripes, accentuated her frame, while the crisp, white silk shirt underneath added a touch of formality. Completing the ensemble, she wore a black tie with a discreet pattern that hinted at both elegance and authority. The ensemble was a strategic choice, projecting confidence and a readiness to engage with the political powers present at the gala for the sake of her hotel. Vaggie smiled and hugged Charlie deeply, their embrace making Charlie feel a little less nervous about the whole ordeal.

“Charlie you look amazing. What happened to the red?” Vaggie asked, before Charlie just chuckled.

“Well, I wanted a change for tonight. I’m always in red, and I feel like they’ll take me more serious if I’m not walking in there with my usual attire. Besides, you read the invitation, ‘formal attire, look your best’.” Charlie said. Vaggie nodded, and Charlie pulled back from the hug to admire Vaggie in her dress. She was wearing a sleek and modern grey dress that gracefully embraced the formal occasion. The dress, with its tailored fit and subtle shimmer, exuded class. The knee-length hemline added a contemporary touch, and Vaggie had decided to pair it with black heels to complete the ensemble. The choice of grey complemented Charlie’s charcoal gray suit, creating a coordinated yet distinct look that would surely make an impression at the gala. Charlie felt her cheeks heat up taking in her appearance, her long hair gently pinned back, the loose pieces of hair framing her face.

“Aww, Vaggie you look so pretty!!” Charlie said excitedly. Vaggie just smiled, ignoring the way her cheeks heated up at Charlies compliment.

“I agree, you look good vagina.” Angel said mockingly, causing Vaggie to glare at him. Charlie just gushed.

“Angel be nice. This is really important for the hotel.” Charlie explained. He just nodded, tilting his head back and downing a bottle of liquor. The staff however was interrupted by Angel making a purring sound at Husk, who was dressed in a nice white suave dinner jacket, with perfect cutouts for his wings, along with some sleek black trousers and some black dress shoes. The match, he had a black silk lapel.

“I can think of another place that suit would look.” Angel said, leaning onto Husk. He rolls his eyes, bottle in hand.

“Do I even wanna know?” He asks, and Angel just grins.

“On my bedroom floo-“ Angel doesn’t get to finish, being shrugged off by Husk who just walks away with a shake of his head.

“Oh my gosh! Husk you look amazing!” Charlie squealed in delight. Husk just smiled softly before setting his drink on the bar counter.

“It appears everyone is ready.” Alastor said, the focus of the room shifting to him. Niffty was at his side studying his outfit from head to toe.

Alastor emerged in an ensemble that deviated from his usual eccentricity, opting for a more formal yet captivating look. A deep red velvet tailcoat adorned his frame, its luxurious texture catching the light. Dark-red lapels, meticulously piped with gold, added a touch of opulence. Underneath, he wore a perfectly tailored crimson dress shirt, the power emitting off of him. Suddenly, the room grew just a tad bit darker, the shadows of the room stretching just a bit. Complementing the ensemble, he chose a pair of well-fitted black dress pants, allowing the bold red hue to take center stage on his appearance. His choice of footwear shifted to polished black oxford shoes, a departure from his usual pointed-toe boots. The finishing touches of the outfit included a matching red silk bowtie, neatly knotted at his throat, and black leather gloves that added a refined edge. Alastor’s presence was commanding, radiating an air of formality while retaining the distinctive charm that defined him. The room was captivated by the Radio Demon’s unexpected transformation into a vision of refined class and style.

“You took forever for that?” Niffty said, before Angel Dust tossed a pillow at her.

“Shut it you. We, we are keeping,” Angel said, hands waving around Alastor, “to whatever this is.”

“Style.” Alastor said confidently. Vaggie just face palmed while Charlie clapped her hands together excitedly.

“Okay, I think everyone’s ready. Should we head out?” Charlie asked. Vaggie nodded, before Alastor dug the invitation out of his coat pocket. Standing near a wall, he traced the symbol on the back of the card on the wall. “Uh, Al? What are you doing?” Charlie asked. He grinned, putting his hand flat on the wall. The symbol began to glow green, before it opened a portal. On the other side, was a large house. The grand Victorian mansion stood as a testament to opulence, its imposing facade adorned with intricate wrought-iron black railings and embellished balconies with hints of chains. Tall, arched windows with stained glass panels framed the exterior, allowing glimpses of the soft glow emanating from within. The entrance, marked by a sweeping staircase, welcomed guests with ornate, carved intricate detailed doors. Charlie, Vaggie and Husk followed Alastor through the portal, Charlie waving goodbye to Niffty, and Angel. Sir Pentious was most likely hiding out in a room somewhere with his egg boys.

As guests approached, they marveled at the meticulous details of the architecture – elaborate moldings, corbels, and friezes adorned every corner. Ivy-clad walls added a touch of nature’s grace, intertwining with wrought-iron lampposts that cast a warm ambiance over the meticulously landscaped gardens.Inside, the grand foyer unfolded, revealing a sweeping staircase adorned with a rich, mahogany handrail. Crystal chandeliers hung from soaring ceilings, their light refracted by ornate mirrors that lined the walls. Plush Victorian-era furnishings, upholstered in rich fabrics, adorned the parlor rooms, creating intimate spaces for guests to gather and converse.Every room whispered of a bygone era – intricately patterned wallpaper, gilded frames displaying classical art, and the faint fragrance of aged wood and lavender.

The air was infused with a sense of refinement, transporting guests to a time when elegance reigned supreme. The Victorian mansion, a splendid backdrop for the gala, promised an evening steeped in grandeur and charm. In the middle of the exterior grounds, a grand fountain of blood took center stage. Its sculpted marble figures spouted blood into the air, catching the moonlight in a dance of liquid elegance. The fountain, surrounded by manicured gardens and flowering shrubs, became a focal point for guests as they strolled through the outdoor spaces, the gentle sound of cascading blood adding a serene touch to the gala’s errie atmosphere.

The overlords arrival made the event much more real. Alastor hums to himself as he walks around the outside grounds. There are servants of all kinds walking around with glasses of champagne. Rosie is sitting on a bench, plucking thorns off a rose. Alastor smiles to himself, happy to see a familiar face he know he can confide in.

“Rosie dear! So nice to see you.” Alastor said with a smile. She smiles at him, teeth razor sharp.

“Do you think you’ll be getting a seat tonight?” She asks, snapping the rose off its stem and tossing it to the side.

“Well of course I will. It’d be a mistake if I wasn’t.” Alastor said with a smile, crossing his legs as he sat down next to her. Sinners from all over the pride ring were socializing outside of the large mansion. He knew you were inside finalizing preparations and possibly screaming your head off. Overall, the air was chilled with a comfortable atmosphere. Well, it had been comfortable, until a loud noisy vehicle stopped at the front gates. Everyone’s heads were turning, Rosie and Alastor looking at each other with strained smiles. Stepping out of the large limousine were the three vee’s, vulgar music blaring from the vehicles speakers as the three made their way through the now open gates. Reporters lined the edges of the gates, trying desperately to see the overlords inside and to try and sneak into the gala, which was starting soon.

“Mr.Vox! Mr.Vox!” News reporters shouted. Velvet was busy taking selfies of her and her outfit, her assistant following close behind her. Valentino was busy looking down at everyone, smoking his usual, while taking his long strides next to Vox, who was in the middle of the three.

On Vox’s right was Valentino, who donned a captivating look for the gala. His tailored white suit boasted a jacket that reached just above the knee, a subtle departure from his usual floor-length coat. The crimson silk lining peeked through, adding a luxurious touch to the outfit. The coat, reminiscent of his extravagant style, also had a vivid-red hue with his signature white fur trim at the wrists. The black and white striped fur trim along the center-front added a distinctive flair. A gold chain and love-heart-shaped broach fastenings adorned the coat, creating an opulent yet alluring look. Finally, he wore polished black heeled boots, maintaining the sleek and captivating allure that defined Valentino’s presence. The familiar color scheme remained intact, blending sophistication with a hint of provocative charm for the grand gala.

On Vox’s left was Velvet, who had spent months perfecting her outfit for the gala, in hopes she’d be invited of course. She had begged the boys to keep a good public appearance, in hopes they’d be recognized and invited to the crimson gala. Velvette, deciding to ditch her usual style, embraced a lavish and over-the-top look that represented her brand. Dressed in a knee-length dress, the garment had a striking blend of black and red hues. The dress, fitted at the waist, flowed into a voluminous skirt, creating a sense of extravagance. The bodice of the dress featured intricate lace detailing. A white collar adorned with a velvet bow added a playful yet mature flair. The sleeves, a fusion of burgundy and white patterns, contributed to the overall lavish aesthetic she had been going for. Her accessories took on a more refined form. Velvet gloves, adorned with delicate lace, graced her hands, and a pearl necklace adorned her neck, adding a classic touch, completed with maroon heels, each step resonating with a sense of grandeur. Velvet’s transformation into this upscale attire reflected her desire to make a statement at the Crimson Gala.

In the middle, and the brains of the three vee’s, was none other than the head of Vox Tech, Vox himself. He wore a sleek and modern dark blue tuxedo, tailored with precision. Of course he could only have the best. The suit featured subtle futuristic patterns that enhanced his ‘perfect’ sense of style. To complement his high-tech vibe, Vox wore a light blue undershirt with an upside-down broadcast symbol. Vox's gala attire seamlessly blended power and control with his technological edge, creating a memorable look in shades of dark blue, which in his opinion, was the best color.

Upon seeing Alastor, Vox’s eye twitched noticeably. The gates shut behind the three vee’s, closing off the gala to the public. The overlords begin to get closer together unknowingly, Zestial finding a comfortable corner to watch things play out. Carmilla and Zeezie stand close together, whispering to one another as both Rosie and Alastor stand from the bench. Vox, Valentino and Velvet make their way to the Radio Demon and his colleagues.

“I see the grandpa’s were invited.” Velvet says with a scoff, scrolling through her phone.

“So disrespectful.” Carmilla says under her breath, looking away from the three vee’s.

“Hm, interesting, and I was beginning to think the only interesting thing tonight would be the dinner.” Bethesda said, her brother nodding.

“Well, it seems the children brought their play date to the public then.” Zeezie says. The other overlords laugh and Valentino sneers at her.

“Well an idiota like you would think so. Then again, don’t you all do the same with your diapers?” He asked, puffing the smoke into her face. She growls at him, fists clenching at her side, but Carmilla stops her.

“Didn’t they say this was an adult only gala?” Carmilla asked, Rosie chuckling at her words.

“Oh can it grandma.” Velvete said. But Vox remained silent, having his own personal staring match with Alastor, whose smile was stretched ear to ear, teeth on full display.

“I thought this gala was meant for real talent?” Vox asked, stepping closer to Alastor.

“Well it was until you showed up.” Alastor said with a smile. “There’s no originality in copying someone else.” He tuts. Vox narrows his eyes, face twisting with anger as he steps closer to Alastor again.

“You wanna tell me something, you old piece of-“ Vox is stopped, the lights to the exterior of the mansion dimming. The lights behind the large front doors opening slowly. Two tall black shadowy figures stepped from the door, smoke at their feet.

“Thank you all for your attendance. As we know, the annual Crimson Gala is held every year, and this year is no different. With the new extermination date, important decisions must be made. Tonight, ten individuals will be selected to sit at Madame’s table where she will discuss private plans on how to move forward.” The two said in unison. Everyone fell silent as more shadows appeared, each one sitting on the sides of the steps. Lights around the staircases began to light up, and people began making their way up the stairs.

“Well~ this should be fun.”

[rosemaryfollows]

𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴

|| synopsis: Adam falling in love with someone who actually deserves to be in Heaven. ||

|| word count: 955 ||

[ cw: Adam is his own warning ngl. a little bit of verbal and physical abuse, and toxic relationships obvi. ]

|| ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2 ||

From human souls to another, those in Heaven around you felt pity for your… ‘situation.’ You had captured the eyes of first man Adam himself, and you hated it. You and a small group of people had started to question if he deserved to be in heaven, or if he was just Gods’ favorite creation. For ages now, he had been walking around, talking at you more than to you.

“Yeah, then I told that fat bitch just,” He paused, looking down and spotting you further ahead of him than before he started talking, taking a large step forward to be next to you again before he continued talking. “Just how much she actually disgusted me, she started with the whole, boo-hoo, woe is me shit. Ugh, honestly it’s was so gross.” You cringed at his behavior, your face beet red in sheer embarrassment. You moved your hand to cover the side of your face he could’ve seen, sighing deeply as he just continued to blabber on and on.

As if a sudden change of heart struck him, he went quiet before clearing his throat, tugging at his collar with a single finger before looking away from you and speaking. “But uh, how was.. your, day?” He asked, sounding almost unsure of the question. Your walk had stuttered a bit, seeing as you almost tripped over yourself at his tone and question. “It was perfect,” Until you showed up again, you thought, sighing for a moment. “It’s always a happy day in Heaven.” You had finally spared a glance to him, peering up to look at him, you caught him staring right at you, not paying any attention to what was in front of him as he walked. A little smile creeped onto your face as you walked further just a bit, watching him collide face first with a pole.

“Ah! Fucking— shit, eat- pussy! Fucking Christ!” He groaned out, stumbling back a bit and rubbing his mask, flipping off the pole with his other hand. Both of your hands shot up in front of your mouth, hiding the smile that spread across your face. Little giggles started to bubble up out of your throat as you watched him curse out the pole. “You! Fucking bitch— Why didn’t you tell me there was a— Ohhh, you think this is fucking funny?! Tell me why I’m wasting my time with a dry ass pussy like yours, fucking suck my—“ He started, a small growl to his voice as he glared at you, huffing and puffing before taking a deep breath, standing up straight. He cleared his throat again, noticing the people who had stopped on the street, knowing it would just look like him harassing some poor angel. Which, wasn’t too far off.

He grouched and looked down at you. “Come on.” He stepped closer to you and grabbed your wrist, flapping his wings so he would be off the ground, bringing you with him. He knew he was larger than other angels, so there was no chance of your hand escaping his much larger one. He had been ‘courting’ you for some time now, so you knew better than to try and wiggle out of his grip for fear of losing some feathers.

He flapped his wings in almost a sense of pride as he pulled your form to his, his hand now supporting you only by your lower back. Your face had gone back to its’ almost melodramatic frown, looking down as you watched the street get further and further away from your feet. “You sure know how to fucking embarrass a guy, _____.” He groaned out as he landed on his ‘penthouse in the clouds’, which was a stupid thing to call it since heaven itself was in the clouds. However, he didn’t let you down yet, grumbling as he walked around, still holding you up off the floor.

“Adam, please put me dow—“ He cut you off before you could even ask, “No! No, you’re fucking mine until I am done with you. Why can’t I just get over you already?! Are you a fucking demon? Doing some, voodoo magic shit on me?” He looked down at you, a scowl obvious on his mask, but he did start to set you down, letting your feet reconnect with the floor. You stepped back from him, looking around before rubbing the wrist he had grabbed since it had begun to ache. He watched you with intent for a second before disappearing off into his ‘home.’ You considered flying off, but even if he was cruel, you’d hate to leave him in a bad mood.

So, like an angel, you waited. Hands folded in front of you now, looking out over the clouds, watching the sun reflect off of them with such eloquence. You only turned away from the view when you heard footsteps coming from behind you. It was Adam, now without his mask and two things in his hands. One, an ice pack, the other, a small glass of water. He knelt down in front of you, setting the glass down and taking your aching wrist into his hands, pressing the ice against it gently. “… Sorry.” He whispered out, looking up at you with a little frown, trying to convey true sorrow. A small sigh left you, your free hand lifting to pet back his hair, a little smile spreading across your face as you leaned forward and planted a kiss against his forehead.

“It’s alright.” You’d always forgive him. No matter what he had done to you, pick, prod or pull, you’d give him your forgiveness in full. Because you were an angel, and that’s why he lov— like—. Tolerated, you.

[ someone tell me i did him justice plsplspls ]

|| note: ​🇮​​🇫​ ​🇾​​🇴​​🇺​ ​🇱​​🇮​​🇰​​🇪​ ​🇲​​🇾​ ​🇨​​🇴​​🇳​​🇹​​🇪​​🇳​​🇹​, ​🇧​​🇪​ ​🇸​​🇺​​🇷​​🇪​ ​🇹​​🇴​ ​🇱​​🇮​​🇰​​🇪​ ​🇦​​🇳​​🇩​ ​🇷​​🇪​​🇧​​🇱​​🇴​​🇬​!! <3 ||

[c10designs]

This little guy has just been sold and will be on their way to their new home by Monday.

Find my shop here on Etsy - https://www.etsy.com/shop/coddson

[waugh-bao]

For Jagger, a growing motivation is the sheer pleasure of doing business - not so much the dollars and cents of touring as the thrill of bringing off such a largescale operation. These days, it seems, when Jagger sings about satisfaction, he may be thinking less of willing teen-age girls than of the nest gesthetics of a well-turned deal. "That's what lead vocalists are like," says Wood. "They want to know just what's going on, and for an old LSE [London School of Economics] student like Mick, there's a thrill in keeping an eye on everything.”

(Rolling Stone Magazine Profile, 1994)

[hiredpencil]

Inktoberstuck number 29: JuJu

Only two more to go!

[shaguro]

a/n: thank you guys for all the love! and thank you for 50 followers!! i literally made this account a few days ago and i never expected this growth so quickly. i have so many ideas and i can't wait to share them with y'all. 😘

ony won the poll! so this is just porn with no plot, just onya giving you some good dick. word count's around 750, so ima put it under a read more, enjoy. ❤️

onyankopon always knew he was gonna make you his. sure, it would take some time but for you he was willing to wait. ony was determined like that, whatever he wanted he got it. you could even call it cocky, but that cockiness is what got you in his bed, ass up face down as he bullied his long dick into you. you were moaning in pure ecstasy, clawing at the satin sheets as tears streamed down your face. it was all too much; the tight grip he had on your frontal, head thrown back, the stinging imprint his hand left on the fat flesh of your ass. he was fucking you so deep you swore you could feel him in your stomach. your pussy was so tight, gummy walls sucking his dick back in with every rock of his hips. he let out a low groan, in love with how fucking good you felt.

“d-daddy, ohmygod... s’too big, i can’t-”

ony kissed his teeth as you tried to run away, hands gripping your hips so he could pound into you mercilessly. “uh-uh, you gon take all this dick. you had all that mouth, right? take it.”

your face was now pressed into the sheets, too weak and fucked out to keep your head upright. ony loved the fact that he could do this to you, have you so dumb over his dick that you’re just letting him have his way with you. voice hoarse from all the moaning you been doing, drool pooling from the side of your mouth, he had you right where he wanted you.

“i’m s-sorry, ahh, so sorryy.” reaching your hand to grip his arm, ony pushing it out his way.

“what i tell you, lil girl?” he pushes his palm on your back, watching it curve exactly how he wanted it. “take this fuckin’ dick.”

ony was no minute man but fuck, he knew he couldn’t last much longer. now he understood why you kept this pretty pussy from him, this had to be voodoo. shit didn’t make no sense, how your cream was forming a white ring around the base of his big dick, coating his toned abs, wet squelching sounds from your pussy bouncing off the walls, driving him wild.

ony tipped his chin to the ceiling, panting heavily. “fuck ma.” a hand circled your neck, applying pressure. “this pussy so good. this my pussy, right? all mine?”

you nodded frantically and ony’s hand cupped your jaw, leaning his body against yours so he could growl in your ear. “use your words.”

“oohyesyesyes it’s all yours—‘m gonna cum!”

“hold it.” ony muttered before he props one on his legs on the bed, fingers digging crescents into your hips, dick digging deeper in your guts than before. hitting that sweet spot over and over that had you blubbering, eyes rolling and your mind going blank. the force of his thrusts making your juices drip down his balls, creating a mess beneath you. using the last of your strength, you look at him over your shoulder with lust-blown eyes. “p-please let me cum, please.”

how could he say no to that pretty face? he decided he’d go easy on you this one time. ony bit his lip, feeling his own orgasm approaching. “cum all over this dick, baby.”

he didn’t stop stroking as your body trembled, the intensity of your orgasm had you seeing stars, leaving you completely limp on the bed, all your cum trickling down your thick thighs. your lower body still being held up in ony’s strong hands, you know you’ll have bruises from his tight grip. ony could only stroke one, two more times before his body stilled, filling you up with his seed. it was so much that it started dripping out of your puffy pussy, adding to the mess under you.

he could only smile when your eyes softly fluttered, fighting sleep as he gently wiped your tears with his thumb before he went into the bathroom to get a warm rag and start the bath water. coming back into the room, he starts wiping your worn-out hole, whispering apologies when you flinched from overstimulation.

“so good for me, mama.” he pressed a kiss to your temple, pulling back to see the damage he did on your frontal, lifting the lace. you kiss your teeth and swat his hand away. “i hate you. i just got this shit done!”

ony rolled his eyes. “you didn’t hate me when i had you creaming all over this dick.”

you cut your eyes at him and he laughs, playfully smacking your ass. “don’t worry mama. i’ll pay for another install and buy a new wig, whatever you want.”

“yeah, you better, nigga—”

you squealed when ony lifted you bridal style, telling you to watch your mouth as he walked into the bathroom and settled you into the bubbly water, fitting himself in the space behind you, arms wrapped around your waist. he littered kisses along your jaw and admired your pretty face as you snuggled into him, eyes slowly closing.

ony always knew that he would make you his and he always got what he wanted...but this? this was better than anything he could’ve imagined.

[shrenvents]

Spellbound

Warnings: Minors dni, smut, oral, fem receiving, unprotected, fluff, some violence, biting

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x Witch reader

Summary: You're a witch with a specific skill set, one that has intrigued a certain hybrid.

Word count: 2.7k

...

Voodoo. Magic. Impulse. Obsession.

She was his newest fascination.

He heard her laughter cracking through the walls of the barren bar before it cut short. Klaus observed how the sunlight blazed across her, poorly parked, car. His lips slanted in mild amusement. He told himself, that’s all it was, all she was. Mild amusement for an immortal. Though, something felt different.

He strutted into the place, head hung high as he scanned the bare vicinity. His eyes halted on a man behind the bar, rinsing glass cups. The bartender's eyes adverted from Klaus, the second he caught his stare. The man's nerves were duly noted as Klaus approached him.

“I’ll have a glass of your finest red,” Klaus spoke artfully, with a fake smile plastered on his face. The worker shuddered. “Ug- we’re not serving right now.”

“No worries mate,” his mellifluous voice paused. “The red I fancy isn’t something I’d find on your menu.” The man's gaze shot up to Klaus’s. His lips trembled as Klaus continued his jest. “Unless you intend to provide me with a bite, I suggest you tell me where she’s hidden.” Klaus’s threat echoed through the building, till silence took its place.

Suddenly, the sound of a back door, opening and slamming shut jolted Klaus away from the bartender. He instantly raced to the door, ripping it open. He watched as her frame scattered into her rusted car. He growled. There was no way he'd let her escape once again...

Your body was convulsing with anxiety. Who were you to know a little magic truce with the “other side,” would have a certain hybrid on your front doorstep. It didn’t help when you levitated everything in your apartment at him, including your freshly made spaghetti with bolognese. It was to be expected, that would piss him off...

Yanking the car door shut, you forced the key in and started the engine.

“Where are we headed this time darling?”

“Ahhh!” You screamed, snapping your head to the uninvited passenger. Klaus sat leisurely beside you, and you swear your life flashed before your eyes. “I must say, I enjoyed our time in Chicago. Perhaps San Fran may be the next best thing, love.” His smug face adorned your features, absorbing the way your face contorted in both fear and frustration.

“Jesus,” you huff, and Klaus’s smirk grows. “As much as I love the idea, somehow becoming your personal chauffeur isn’t that appealing.” Klaus chuckles lowly, leaning in, more and more.

“Well, if you hadn’t decided to run off, you crafty little thing," he drawls sweetly, "We wouldn’t have the pleasure.”

“If you weren’t trying to kill me, maybe I’d stick around.” Klaus’s brows twist like he's appalled by your words. “Who said I was interested in killing you?”

“You- I- then, what do you want?” You stammer. Klaus goes quiet. You watch as his expression goes blank before he acts as though he is in deep thought. Then, his mouth gaped in 'awe,' as if the answer suddenly came to him. “Your talents of course.”

“My talents.” You repeat, baffled.

“Yes, do keep up, my dear.”

“Why? You could have any witch at your disposal, at a moment's notice.”

The corner of his lips elevate once more. “I’m flattered.”

He’s become so close now, you feel his breath, and you try not to shiver as it grazes your neck. He, on the other hand, basks in your scent.

“But, unlike my other witches, you have a gift,” he muses. “Your connection with the dead is something to behold, and something I crave.”

After a prolonged silence, you speak. “If I help you with whatever," you move further into your seat, "When it comes to an end, you’ll let me walk away, unscathed?” Your brow quirks, and with every fibre of your being, you manage to maintain eye contact. “Yes, you have my word.” Klaus’s expression went stoic, holding an unflinching seriousness that made your heart rate stutter. And strangely, you knew you could trust him.

That's how you ended up as his lackey. For the past 5 weeks, you were at his beck and call as he tormented humans, werewolves, and vampires alike.

Like any other day, your conscious was eating away at you, as you called upon another ancestor of those he plagued. Today though, you finally broke. He had been cruelly punishing a guy for hours as you questioned his late brother, through the veil.

“That’s enough!” Klaus’s eyes darted to yours, and his angered appearance softened. Instinctively, he gripped your forearm and dragged you out of the motel room.

“Love, what’s wrong?”

“What's wrong is that I’m tired, and his brother is telling me jack shit about those ‘hunters.’” You huff, closing your eyes.

Klaus firmly presses himself stock-still, resisting every urge that wishes to devour you, as you naively allow him to hold you so close, to let your guard down, to close your eyes. An urge that has worsened, and become insatiable since you started your venture together.

“Love, why don’t you grab a bite from the cafe across the street, while I fill up the car's tank?” He says heartfeltly, "That way we both can have a break."

Your eyes flutter open, and you nearly tremble at the gentle look that flickers in his gaze. However, his body language, which clutches you tightly, suggests he is anything but. “Okay.”

After five minutes seated alone in a booth, you gathered up the last of the courage you were trying to dispel. Now, headed back to the rented room, to release the hostage. Stupid, very stupid, you thought. But you couldn’t help it.

When you entered the room, the door slowly creaked shut, and shadows engulfed you. It was too quiet, and you couldn’t see the man. Unease filled your system, and you began to regret this decision. That impending regret soon became alarms going off when the captive gripped your torso, roughly caging in your arms. His grip was inescapable, and when you tried to scream, his free hand covered your mouth.

“You fucking bitch,” he murmured with disgust. You winced. “How about I leave you bleeding out here, all laid out for you bloodthirsty master.” The man crackled with humourless laughter. “I’m sure he’d appreciate that.”

While his venomous words made you cower, you relentlessly struggled against him, fighting with all that you could muster. Unfortunately, your captor was a werewolf, and far too strong for you to at least break free, to cast a spell.

He muffled Klaus’s name with his palm, and tears pricked your eyes. Even after the numerous times you’d bicker and argue, he was still the first person who came to mind, who you hopelessly called out to.

The man began lifting your body towards the door, urgently turning the knob. Just as the outside light cuts into your vision, you're wrenched from him, pulled into a powerful embrace. With ease, Klaus’s arms carried you away, swiftly placing you in the backseat of your car, locked safely inside.

His figure then disappeared just as quickly, and you hear your aggressor's voice wail in pain. Shaking, you curl over yourself, covering both ears pathetically.

After what feels like an eternity, two large hands cup your tear-stained cheeks, bringing you out of your shell. He quiets you, as he slides inside the vehicle, smoothly pulling you onto his lap. One of his arms supports your back, while the other strokes your hair. Calming you down, he mutters things like: 'Everything’s fine now love,' 'I’m here,' 'I’ll take care of you...'

“I’ve never felt so helpless,” you mumble.

He shakes his head. “There’s nothing you could've done to stop a werewolf, especially when a full moon draws near,” he soothes. You press your cheek further into his broad chest. “Though, I wish you would’ve just listened to me for once, and stayed put.”

You shoot your head up, adjusting to face him, close enough that your noses nearly meet. “If I listened to you I’d probably be dead by now.”

“Oh really?” He grins, eyes creasing, “How so?”

“Well, for one, that time you ordered me to question that vampire chick's dead boyfriend about his affair, right in front of her.” Klaus guffaws. “You're laughing, but she would've bit my head off.”

“She wouldn’t have,” he denies, still chuckling.

“Yes, she would have Klaus.” You begin to laugh along.

“You know, I wouldn’t have let her.” His face deadpans, “Like I didn’t let our were-friend hurt you," he voiced, airily. "I gave you my word.”

“Yes, of course, your word.” You giggle nervously, glancing at the hand currently bracing your thigh, gliding its thumb back and forth. “It’s not all that I’ve given you.”

You look up and are met with a mysterious look this time. Your brows furrow in confusion. He smiles dreamily, “Your skills as a witch truly know no bounds.”

“The hell are you talking about now?” You retort, making Klaus laugh loudly.

“I’m talking about your spell," he whispers. "The one that has bewitched me.”

You freeze, heart dropping.

“You don’t mean that...” Your sentence trails off as Klaus stares through you.

He’s so unpredictable, that a part of you believes he's probably playing some sick game. But, there was also a possibility that he meant it, and all the hidden desires, for your unconventional boss, were about to bubble to the surface.

“I've meant every word, from the moment I met you, when you got the better of me.” He smirks, breath fanning your face. “Witchcraft.”

Then his lips take yours, slow at first, but the entanglement shortly turns desperate. Slightly hesitant, you grind on him, eager to pull him closer. He groans, and his hands enthusiastically roam your waist and back, beckoning you nearer.

Moving in a frenzy, as your fingers tangle in his locks, you swing your leg to straddle him. He moans your name in between kisses, and he palms your ass.

Continuously rolling your body into him makes you feel his arousal, which causes a whine to escape. When your lips break apart, his mouth trails down your jaw, to your neck. You gasp, but you don’t stop him. He audibly tells you how much he’s enjoying himself, and you squeeze your thighs over his.

“I can only imagine how sinful you taste here darling.” He remarks as his hand slides over your core, and you whimper. “How about you let me try?” He hums politely. “You know you want me to.”

“No,” you huff.

“No?” His voice rises questioningly, and a hand gropes your chest, while the other grips your chin, tilting your head down to peer into his eyes. “Not here,” you finish, and he smirks wildly.

“Then, I’ll just have to get us a private room?” He purrs seductively into you ear, making you shiver. “One that is, unoccupied,” he rolls his tongue, and you shiver again at the double meaning behind his words. You don’t even want to think about what he did to the man who attacked you.

“Please,” you sigh into a kiss, pecking his lips, which seems to surprise Klaus momentarily. His surprise briskly turns into a beaming smile. “To be continued,” he utters before shifting you off him and rushing out the car.

Not long after, Klaus reappears with that same childlike cheer gracing his features. Jerking open the door, he outstretches his hand like a gentleman. You accept it, and his palm completely envelops yours. He tugs you to his hip, and nibbles on your earlobe while you walk to a random room.

As soon as the door locks behind you, he presses himself against your backside. “Now, how about that taste?” He mutters while lifting your hair to kiss your nape, and rubbing himself against you. You press closer, before spinning around to enclose your mouth on his again. He groans into your mouth approvingly, backing your body toward the queen-size bed.

His lips free yours when your back legs hit the edge, and you fall backwards with a yelp. His hands then make work of your lower half, removing your clothes as he kneels infront of your cunt. You inhale deeply, as cool air hits your bare body.

He goes silent, so you raise your head to peek at him. Klaus is ogling you heatedly, like the predator he is. “Lovely,” he sing-songs.

He abruptly grips your thighs and heaves your core to his mouth, so close, his breath warms your skin. “K-Klaus.”

“Hmmm,” he hums shortly, before delving into you. You sob a cry of shock. His tongue expertly runs over your folds, sucking the nub with such a slow deliberation, like he can’t decide how he wishes to take you at first, as if he’s imagined every way he could.

You whine, motioning him to make his choice, bucking up, feeling his stubble scratch you. Then he grows aggressive, hungrily lapping your clit, over and over, until he ushers out your orgasm.

When your lengthy climax finishes, he sighs pleasantly into the crook of your neck. “You’re incredible,” he emits with a chant of your name, thoroughly relaxing your shaking form.

“Fuck, take off your clothes,” you beg. He immediately abides by your command, tearing off his shirt and pants. You grab his necklaces to haul his lips to yours. You savour every inch of yourself on his tongue, and he relishes in how dirty the act was.

“There’s only so much I can do to you before dawn, and it won't nearly be enough to satisfy my hunger for you.” His poetic words erupt something within. You exhale, “It seems you’re going to break your promise then.”

He stills at your words, befuddled. You elaborate, “There’s no way I’m coming out of this unscathed.” A timid smile spreads across your face, and he almost nods in understanding, feeling a strange quiver in his chest.

Wordlessly, he pulls himself from his slacks, and you take off the last of your clothes. Suddenly feeling a little out of body, you decide to take back some control of the situation. So, you flip your positions, once again, surprising Klaus, though he allows it.

You straddle him and lower yourself onto his thick cock. You whimper the second the tip enters, and he growls, pressing his fingertips into your hips, definitely leaving bruises.

“You’re too big,” you gasp.

“You can handle it, sweetheart,” he states mindlessly. He wraps his arms around your waist and arms, pulling you down onto him. His hips then press completely into you, pushing himself inside to the hilt. A wheeze leaves your lungs as he grounds into you. “Klaus, it’s too-“

“It’s perfect,” he finishes for you. You barely have any time to adapt to his size before he begins pounding. Pleasure wracks through you, and he takes whatever control you had away. His pace is unnerving, and you utter incoherent words, while his fangs graze your neck.

“Tell me,” he groans through his panting. “Tell me you want me.” He demands, though it almost sounds like he’s begging for it. “I-I want you.” The words stumble out as his thrusts reach your center.

“More,” he just about whines.

“I want you Klaus,” you shout. “You feel so good- fuck I’ve always wanted this, you.” You ramble, egged on by him. He loves it, and you feel it in his strength. He holds you tighter, and the air leaves your body.

Feeling his leg tremble, you know he’s close. “Bite me.” His clamped-shut eyelids pop open, and his dark pupils bore into yours. You kiss him and take his bottom lip between your teeth. “Bite me while you cum,” you command.

He gulps before taking his last few pumps into you. He moans into your neck as his teeth puncture your flesh. You cry out at the mixture of pain and pleasure that shatters you both.

After almost 10 minutes, he releases you from his firm caress and kisses the holes in your neck. Still inside, he turns you both on your sides. You catch your breath. “How are you still hard?” You sigh in exasperation, and he chuckles breezily. “I told you, you’ve bewitched my very soul darling.” He smirks.

“This is only the beginning.”