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Vladcard at your service m'lady/sir/they..

@amikartest @artsy-jandi

hi, ray 💟

remember that siren!arle and pirate!reader idea? consider:

siren!arlecchino who preys on pirates lost at sea (not by coincidence, i fear). she doesn't enjoy them much, especially the men. then, she spots you. she's never seen such a pretty little pirate before! she must have you.

of course, she's fortunate enough that you're one of the ones who sits alone on the deck at night, foolishly stargazing while everyone else is tucked away in their beds.

she sings to you, calling you to her, trying to reel you in, only to find it isn't working. you seem to hear her, looking for the singer of the melody, but you're not quite entranced.

she keeps trying, only to eventually be spotted by you. she's... a little embarrassed, to say the least.

whatever else happens is up to you, or feel free to totally change the plot! ♡

The Sea's Calling

(Arlecchino x Fem! Reader)

A/N - Hi aris!!! Ty for the ask, and for being my first! <333 love you. I hope you like this one. Since it's my first ask, I'm a bit nervous. Is this semi-One Piece-inspired? Perchance. Wasn't sure if you wanted fem! or gn! reader, but considering your writing I chose fem! reader, though I tried to not reference reader as female as much as possible. I kind of didn't know what to do after they met, so I threw in some not so good dialogue :(. It is also 02:00 as I am writing this, and I'm supposed to wake up at 06:00. Quality dropped at the end because I am tired. This was not a good idea doing this tonight but whatever. Content warnings / info - implied fem! reader, monster x human, arle is ooc because she's a siren, 1.7k words 

You had always thought that the sea was calling out for you; it's been your dream since you were young–to explore the vast ocean that this world had to offer, to be surrounded by nothing but the comforting waves, to be free. Being a pirate allowed you to fulfill your dreams. You went on all the adventures you wanted, stole whatever the hell you wanted, and all while doing that with your crew, who cherished each other, you included, like no other. Yes, you've longed for the ocean, and you'd like to think that the ocean was always trying to draw you in. 

Still, when you meant that the sea was calling out for you, you meant in a figurative sense. Not in a literal sense. Though if this was the kind of sign the ocean was giving you, you might as well jump the ship. 

Pretty gems came far and few in Arlecchino's eyes. Humans, lost at sea and lured in by her voice, were easy meals. She was rarely picky with her meals, sustenance was sustenance, she supposes, but still she finds it disappointing the lack of humans that were easy on her eyes. The seas were infested with brutish and crude-looking humans, particularly among the males. It is a shame that it's been a good while since she's seen a human female, with their fair bodies and their soft features– a suitable mate for her. 

—

She wanders the sea again, not especially hungry, but if she finds a meal or two, she wouldn't have to find another for a few more days. Traveling through the waters, sniffing for the faint and familiar scent of human musk, she finds a ship soon, to her mild delight. She approaches the ship, it being smaller than most ships that wander this part of the ocean, but no matter. She is sure that she'd be able to snag at least one human tonight–there is bound to be one that is awake? 

Peeking her head above the water, she observes the deck of the ship for any humans yet to have slumbered. Humans in slumber were always hard to lure in, but possible. Her eyes gleam when she spots a lone figure on the surface of the deck. It seems like tonight's hunt would prove to be easy. Nearing closer, however, the smell that comes from this figure is distinct to the usual humans she encounters. Though still reeking of the musk that all humans contain, the human contains a refreshing fauna smell and lacks the liquor aroma that most males contain. Curious, she nears the ship more until she can observe the distinct features of the human that sits so carelessly on the edge of their ship.

Her cold heart thumps like never before when she finally spots you, and oh, how she pauses in utter awe. A human whose beauty far surpasses that of any ivory pearl or glittering gold. Has there ever been a human more majestic than you? She would dismiss any notion of a human achieving flawlessness, but yet here you are, shredding her previous foolish thoughts. How do you attain such, so effortlessly? Oh, how fortunate for her to have decided to roam the sea tonight, for the ocean to have given her the most perfect mate in waiting. She must have you, no human male could ever treasure you like she can. She would give you the sea, if it made you hers. 

And so she sings, her sweet song carrying into your ears like a gracious invite. She hopes for you to accept.  

— 

The stars are beautiful, you often think to yourself. It is another reason why you love being out in the sea. Directly underneath the stars, sometimes you feel that you're close enough to reach out and touch them. Little dancing specks of lights were all they were to you, and yet you were entranced each time. The stars and constellations have become one of your closest companions, always twinkling down on you regardless if you were facing soothing waves or warring riptides. Like so many nights before, you find yourself perched on one of the railings of the ship, simply gazing up, observing the midnight canvas that spans above you. 

Is there something more beautiful than stars? 

You find your answer that night when you hear a voice, melodic and sweet sounding, sugarier than any honey-coated treat. It piques you, as you know from the sound's direction it does not come from inside your ship, but beyond–somewhere in the waters. You'd imagine it's what people would describe as a voice from the heavens, because a light song fills the air, nearly entrancing you, however you're too busy searching the source of the sound for the intended effect to be inflicted on you. Instead of impelling your body to go overboard, you whip your head around, still seeking for the singer. 

You've heard of instances like these. You've heard of the warnings: if you hear a beautiful song coming from the waters, you cover your ears and ignore it as much as possible. Though, many say that once you hear them, it is much too late for you. The fates of those who had fell for those voices, you know of them too well, and you intend not to share the same fate. You've heard that among those that were able to escape a siren's call, they're easily dissuaded after one song. All you had to do was to ignore the voice until the song's end. 

The song ends soon after. You pay no mind as silence fills the void, just the sound of waves and the whistles of the wind as your company. But then, another song, the same one. After the second repeat, it starts again, and after that, another.

Were sirens this persistent? You've never heard of one this stubborn. But it is thanks to these songs that you're finally able to pinpoint the origins, and your eyes catch the slight glint of scales in the moonlight, and then the head of ivory hair. A pale face peaks from the water's currents, along with the tip of something–a tail, you discern. You gasp slightly once crimson-pupils land on yours, but then the head sinks down, like a shy animal having been caught. 

Adorable. Was this an unfitting description of what was most likely a siren? You disregarded that very thought, instead, opting to wondering why this siren wanted your attention so much. After all, you should give her the respect of your acknowledgement of her existence after four songs. 

Perhaps you were an idiot. Perhaps you were just heading straight to a gruesome death. But had those things stopped you previously, you would have never been out here, never would have been a pirate. Foolish curiosity may be the death of you, but not tonight. And so, like a pirate in search of their treasure, you take to the seas; in this case, literally into the sea. You let yourself lean backwards on the railing, arms outstretched by your side as you freefall into the sea. 

Surely, if the siren wanted you so badly, then she would save you, wouldn't she? 

The icy waters greet your form, and you shiver. Your breath is stolen away, and it is only you start sinking that you start to question your choice. You stare up, with only the moonlight reflecting off the water, your source of life and you instinctively reach out towards it. Your eyes burn from the brine, so you close your eyes, trying to combat the swallowing waves as you futilely flail your arms. 

Something moves in the water, and before you know it, a weight presses against your chest, something distinctly cold and what you imagine scales to feel like, and something else slides underneath your arms, the texture much like human skin. You feel your body begin to rise, until the sudden rush of oxygen barrages at you, and you greedily inhale the air with heaving breaths, while coughing out the sea water from your throat. Once you're done hacking up your lungs, you crack open an eye, greeted with the same gorgeous face you saw earlier. 

“You're beautiful…” The both of you say at the same time, and you feel your ears burn from the compliment. Her voice, deep and resounding, rings through your ears. Meanwhile, her expression visibly brightens, akin to the stars you adore so much. 

“Y-you won't eat me, right?” You ask hesitantly, and to your relief, she shakes her head no. She pulls you closer, before nuzzling her face into the crook of your neck. The arms wrapped around your figure tightens, and so does the tail around your legs. 

“No. Want to be my mate.” She says bluntly, and you feel sharp fangs prick your skin. You gasp, and she pulls her mouth away, deciding to lick your neck as a quick apology. 

“Why me?” 

“Pretty human. But stupid.” 

“Hey!” You exclaim out of feigned annoyance, but then she purrs into your neck, the noise vibrating through your body. Sirens purr? That is adorable. “What does being a mate mean?”

“You are with me, forever. I feed you, protect you, love you, always. Mine, forever.”

A tempting offer, truly, especially with the way her clawed hands grip your sides so tenderly and the way she looks at you like you are her sun.

“But what about my companions?”

“You do not need them.” 

“I do,” you assert, and her face falls. It's like being stabbed in the heart, seeing her expression like that. You raise both of your hands and cup her face. 

“I want you,” she says, with as much of a whine as a siren can possibly make. It is cute, a mix between a cry and a groan. 

“I need them too.” 

“I am not enough?” 

“I want to be free. I don't want to stay in one place.” 

“Then I will follow,” the siren asserts, her red pupils ablaze with determination. It is as simple as that, apparently. “Can I?” 

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay,” you affirm with a nod. “Don't eat them either. Then I'll be yours.” 

The siren nods, purring again. “My pretty human. Mine?”

You smile. “Yours.” 

Salty lips are brought against yours and you've never been more elated–here is the freest you've ever felt. 

Made With Love Part 2

OM Brothers & Datables x reader pt.2 

Featuring Special parts with Lucifer, Mammon, and Leviathan.

MASTERLIST

Part 1 Here

~ As the Room erupts in chaotic, love-drunk chatter. Luke tries desperately to figure out what is going on, meanwhile you finally show up to the party late and confused.

WC: 6.7k

Warnings: Love Potion based personality changes, obsessive behaviors, feelings of self doubt, possible accidental drowning attempt, mention of suggestive behavior, lots of teasing, kissing, touching, etc. 

a/n: Wow! This is turning into a much longer project than I thought It was going to be. I love how this is developing and I hope you guys are interested too. If you would like to be tagged in the next chapters comment below!

"Look at this one Satan." Lucifer giggles happily, kicking his feet on the sofa. The screen of his DDD is illuminated with a picture of you as the Avatar of Pride leans up against his younger brother and brings the image closer to his blush-covered cheeks. 

Satan's eyes are as large as saucers as he takes in the picture. "This is the bestest picture ever." he gasps in entranced delight, not a single thought in his head other than you. 

"That's what ya said about the last twenty pictures." Mammon laughs from the other side of him. "But I get it. Mc is soooo amazing. I could look at their cute face all day long."

Luke watches as the three brothers swipe to the next picture in Lucifer's album and sigh lovingly. 

Asmodeus shyly creeps up behind his brothers, his eyes brimming with curiosity. Strange spell or not, cute photos of you have always been his kryptonite. Mammon notices his presence and gives his brother a smile. "Cmmere Asmo, don't be shy; there's more than enough pictures of Mc to go around."

How generous…

But when the Avatar of Lust gets closer to take an eager glimpse at the picture, he gasps and takes a flustered step back. His face turns beet red, and smoke looks like it's about to come out from his ears when he sees the (fairly tame) photo of swimsuit-clad you.

"T-that is so inappropriate." he cries, covering his eyes and running away with an off-balanced stumble as if he was the one who took you shopping for the suit, sat back and watched you try on outfit after outfit, and insisted on rubbing sunscreen all over you once you made it to the beach. 

Asmo runs away from his other brothers. But they don't seem to notice. They just continue gushing about how cute you are.

 Aside from those troublemakers, Luke scans the room to see how everyone else is acting under the effects of the spell or whatever it was that found its way into the sugar cookies.

From a lonely window-side chair, Beel looks out the window like he is a little puppy. His face, a deep pout as he waits for your arrival. He looks too distressed to even look at the overflowing table of food.

Belphie is energetically pacing about the room, too excited to see you to even think about being tired. 

Speaking of tired, Barbatos sluggishly leans against the door mumbling to himself about how opening the handle is just too much work for him right now. 

Levi and Simeon begin arguing loudly in the center of the room. They are standing chest to chest, staring each other down with dark, possessive expressions.

"Don't get me wrong, Simeon, I may have admired your work in the past, but now the only fandom I want to be a part of is Mc's." Levi's hand comes to rest on the Angel's shoulder in a condescending manner. 

There is a darkness to Simeon that is quite unnerving as he removes Levi's hand. His face is a cruel mask of disgust. "Why would anyone want to spend time with someone like you?" Instead of flinching or looking away in shame, Levi stares the Angel down as if daring him to say more, which Simeon obliges. "Especially Mc. How about you be a good little demon and leave us be?"

"Don't make me laugh you freaking Normie. Why would Mc want to spend time with you?"

Luke pales as Diavolo steps up to join the argument. 

"No one will be spending time with Mc today," he says in an authoritarian tone. "The poor thing will be exhausted when they arrive, so I personally will be tending to them."

Both the Angel and the Avatar of Envy grow quiet, glancing between one another and the Prince before boisterously laughing in his face. 

"What's so funny?" He asks, narrowing his eyes. The Hearts in his pupils looking remarkably out of place on his regal features. "Do you not think me capable of caring for Mc?"

"Ahh yes, the Prince born with a silver spoon in his mouth is the most qualified to care for a human." The sarcasm in Simeon's voice chills the room as everyone's conversations come to a halt.  

The Demon's nostrils flare, and he crosses his arms over his chest. "Believe me, Simeon, I am more than capable of caring for them."

"Shall we prove it?" Simeon coo's, his voice laced with condescension. "How about each of us go our separate ways to spend time with Mc. Once they have had their share of each of us, we can ask them who they enjoyed their time with the most today."

"It's obviously going to be me." Levi declares as the others gather around. 

"Why can't we jus’ share em?" Mammon wonders aloud. "Mc is so amazing they can spend time with all of us."

Luke spots Asmo taking a worried step backward. "A-alone? W-with Mc?" he stutters. "I- don't know if I am ready for that. I gotta go and get ready." 

"Hey, he's getting a head start on us. I won't lose." Belpheghor calls as he rushes from the room after his brother.

It's a madhouse as the rest of them push past each other to claim their spot for a date with you. But as Solomon tries to creep off, he is stopped by the little Angel who grabs his cape. "Not you, Solomon. If you know what is going on with everyone, you have to tell me," he says exasperatedly. 

"Oh, Mc is going to hate meeee." Solomon cries as the others disappear behind the doors. 

Luke shudders as he uncomfortably feels how clammy the human's skin is. Judging by the deep blush on his cheeks and how clumsily he stumbles behind the little Angel, he is clearly under the same spell as the rest of them. 

"Solomon, what is going on?" He questions the teary-eyed Sorcerer in the most authoritative tone he can manage. He even tries to invoke the same confident, commanding tone that Lucifer uses to control the room by crossing his arms and trying his best to look displeased.

But in all reality, he just looks confused. And that pout only makes him look constipated as Solomon keeps rambling on and on about how you will never love him because he ruined yet another Valentine's Day for you. He is so fixated on you, it's like Luke is not even there.

Luke takes a deep breath in and clenches his little fists into tight balls of tension. He knows he needs to relax so he can fix the problem in front of him and save the day.

Save your day…

"Solomon!" he yells, tugging the Sorcerer's dark blue cape for attention. "Why is everyone acting so strange? They are more obsessed with Mc than usual and are acting differently."

 Solomon's heart-shaped pupils dilate as if hearing someone say your name is a drug to him. But he is coherent enough to answer Luke's question. "D-did you use one of the bowls in my lab?" he asks softly; he nervously fiddles with his fingers, never actually looking Luke in the eye. 

"Yeah, I saw my light blue one on the counter, and it looked clean, so I used it."

Solomon's eyes go wide in alarm as they flicker to the doors of the banquet hall. "The Potion," he breathes, stepping back against the wall and sliding it down in embarrassment. Luke flinches briefly, that impact sounded painful but Solomon doesn't seem to notice it at all. He tucks his knees to his chest in an almost childlike fashion. 

If he hadn't seen him eat the cookies, Luke would not believe that the trembling, flustered man in front of him is the infamous Human Sorcerer Solomon the Wise. "I-I did it again…" his voice comes out muffled from his arms. "I ruined Valentine's Day."

Despair courses through Luke's veins like glacier water. "What do you mean? What Potion?"

Solomon gulps and looks up from his spot on the ground. 

"A few weeks ago, I was out at a used book store with Satan and Mc…." The mere mention of your name is enough for the Sorcerer's blush to intensify, and he begins to lose focus. 

"Hey, Keep going…" Luke encourages urgently. "What did you find at the bookstore?"

Solomon blinks down at Luke as if he had just noticed his presence. "Oh yes, the bookstore. I just went the other day with Satan and…"

"WHAT DID YOU BUY?" he interrupts before the Sorcerer can say your name and get lost in the effects of whatever was in that frosting.

"It was an old recipe guide for making love potions." He answers. "One of the recipes in particular stuck out to me. When consumed, it amplifies feelings of affection for the person they love most along with a few interesting side effects."

A deep shudder runs down Luke's spine. He accidentally gave all his friends a love potion. He looks at Solomon's ruddy cheeks and hazy eyes. Are these some of the side effects. If he is going to learn anything else about the potion, he better ask his last question before the human runs off to prepare his own alone time with you.

"What kind of side effects?

~

A dry, cold wind slices across your face as you run towards the castle gates. Luke's DDD lies securely in your hand as you try to think of the best way to word your apology for being late to the party. 

You are already wondering how Lucifer will scold you for your tardiness. Just imagining that handsome smirk on his prideful lips makes you feel a mixture of both anticipation and annoyance swishing around your gut.

But all in all, you are ecstatic. You get to spend the day with all of your favorite people, eating sweets, playing games, and enjoying what Valentine's Day has to offer.

There's a spring in your step as you make it to the first of the stone stairs of the palace. But before you can move any further, you watch as Luke runs from the Castle towards you.

"Wait, don't go in there." He says frantically, waving his arms 

"Why?" you ask. "don't tell me I missed the party already."

The color drains from the Angel's face, somethings wrong. "it's not… I'm so sorry Mc. I ruined everything."

Your reassuring smile is quick as you place a hand on the Angel's shoulder to calm him down. "Whatever it is you think you did, I'm sure it's not that bad. Luke, do you want to tell me what happened?"

He looks at you and takes a deep breath. "When I was making the cookies, I used a bowl from Solomon's lab that contained some kind of love potion. Right when I set the tray down at the party, it was like everyone was drawn to them. They ate them, and now they just won't stop talking about you, and they're acting strange."

You blink in surprise; out of all the things to come out of Luke's mouth, you were not expecting this. But honestly, after living in the Devildom for a little bit you have developed a wonderful attitude for dealing with these unexpected situations.

"Strange how?" You ask curiosity and worry evident in your voice.

"They are acting completely different. It's like their love for you has changed their personalities. Lucifer is all giggly, Barbatos is super tired, and Simeon… Well, let's just say he's not being that nice."

"Oh dear," you breathe. Luke was just starting to get used to things down here. This love potion fiasco must really be traumatizing the poor guy. "Is there a cure?"

"I-I think so." Luke furrows his brow. "I was trying to get some details from Solomon before he started acting love-drunk like the rest of them. And he said he got it from a book. Before I could ask him anything else, he ran off. Apparently, they all wanted to claim a spot in the Castle to spend some time with you."

You nod thoughtfully, the wheels in your head turning as you formulate a plan. With everyone scattered about the Castle, you will definitely have to check on each guy individually, but other than that, at least you know that they aren't going to be actively arguing with each other, "If we can find that book, I bet there is a page of antidotes we can make. You head back to Purgatory Hall and I'll go inside and make sure everyone stays where they are. If we play along with what they want right now, it will be easier."

He looks concerned, "are you sure you should go in there by yourself?" For all his worrying, you know he has a point; if everyone is acting unpredictable, you will have to be on your guard. They may still love you, but even on their best days, these guys can be a bit possessive. 

Reassuringly, you give the Angel your best smile and send him on his way. "There is nothing to worry about. You go find the book, and I'll make sure that everyone here is okay." 

He nods bravely, "I'll go right away. But if you need any help, call me; I want to make sure they don't try anything crazy."

He rushes off, and you take a deep breath. The moon casts a long shadow on your figure as you climb the steps. You hate to admit it, but you are actually more amused with this situation than worried. You know in your heart that this situation will be resolved.

Curiously, you wonder how the potion seems to be affecting each one of your loved ones.

Maybe all these themed chaotic events that have taken place in the Devildom have messed with your head a little bit, but nevertheless, you find yourself smiling to yourself.

This could be fun. 

Lucifer ~

The Castle has never felt more empty. The dark halls are eerily quiet, and the grand, empty chambers echo the sounds of your light footsteps in every direction. You recall Diavolo saying that since the Valentine's Day celebration was planned to be an intimate affair for you, he had sent the entirety of his staff home to enjoy the holiday with their loved ones. 

You thought that was really admirable, but now you wish that at least one of the little D's was around to help you find your way. There are easily a thousand rooms in this place, and you have 11 cursed individuals to find.

You pass the empty banquet room where the party should've been held; something about the full table of food unsettles you. If Beel isn't crouched over the charcuterie table, stuffing cubes of otherworldly cheese into his mouth like a chipmunk, this love potion thing may be pretty darn serious.

Throughout the quietness, a light sound reaches your ears. It may be horror movie logic, but you follow the sound down the hallway until you reach a stone room with a stained glass ceiling. In the center of the room lies a beautiful indoor fountain. The crystal clear water flows enchantingly into the carefully carved basin. The steady ambiance is soothing, it invites you closer so you may admire the mosaic of jewels embedded into the column.

Suddenly, two strong arms wrap around your waist. The warm embrace makes you jump and let out a yelp of fear as you try to wiggle yourself out. 

Just as you wind up your elbow to drive it into your attacker's ribcage, you hear a happy chuckle against your ear that makes you freeze your attack. "You're here cutie, I knew you would find me."

"Lucifer?" you breathe. "Is that you?"

"Yea~, I just missed you so much." gone is his usual serious tone. Now, his voice sounds giddy with excitement, and you feel at ease. Your shoulders slump as the Avatar of Pride nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. 

Although you are safe, his hold on you is like a vice. There is hardly any space between the two of you as you turn around to get a good look at him. When you two are chest to chest, he lifts his head. Beautiful strands of his dark hair fall in front of his eyes in a messy but not entirely unbecoming way. 

His cheeks are flushed a baby pink color as you take in his simple, lovestruck smile. It looks so unserious you want to burst out laughing. But the thing that really sticks out to you is the strange heart shape his pupils have taken. The black hearts against his deep crimson eyes is captivating to behold.

"You're so cute," he whispers loudly, even though it's just the two of you in the room together. You don't miss the way he seems to sway unsteadily in front of you in an almost tipsy manner. 

So this is what Luke meant by 'Love Drunk.'

"So are you." you smile; usually, this kind of compliment is not one that he would typically accept, but thanks to this sweet and very touchy disposition brought on by the love potion, he just giggles and holds you tighter. "How about we try and find some of the others so we can have our party?"

"No," he states abruptly; the look of hurt on his face tugs at your heartstrings, and you almost want to apologize to him. He looks down at you with glassy eyes that are brimming with tears. This unusual sight reminds you of your current mission. 

When he notices the worry on your face, the tears begin to cascade down his cheeks and become one with the fountain. "I'm sorry for yelling at you," he murmurs with a small voice. "I just love you so much. Why do you want to find the others? Stay with me. Please?"

Lucifer's lack of pride is astonishing. He clings to your arm as if you are about to turn into smoke and vanish into thin air. 

What if we held hands while we looked?" you offer the Demon. His eyes light up at the prospect, but you know you'll need to offer a bit more than that if you are going to be able to leave this room to look for the others. 

"We can hold hands in here," he whines toying with your fingers as if they are the most fascinating things in the world. He smoothes the pad of his thumb over the glossy coat of nail polish Asmodeus painted last night and looks at you with puppy dog eyes.

"What about a kiss then?" you ask

That love-drunk smile returns to light up his features once more at the prospect once more. "A kiss?"

"Yes," you say. "If we can leave this room to find the others, then you can have all the kisses you want."

The offer is tempting and you see the contemplation in his eyes. If he says yes, he'll get what his heart has been calling for, but then he won't get as much attention from you. He can hardly remember what the others are doing right now. All he can think of is you, you, you.

He nods excitedly. "Please, please kiss me Mc. I'll do whatever you want."

You smile victoriously as he cups your face. There is so much love in his gaze as he meets your eyes. "Beautiful," he whispers before leaning in close to you. 

Your eyes shut as his warm breath fans your face. Potion or no potion, he kisses you like he always does, heartfelt and tenderly. His lips are soft against yours as he steals away that pesky breath of yours.

You find your head in the clouds, not wanting to pull away from this for even a moment. 

But surprisingly, he pulls away first. Your eyes shoot open as you see him run a hand through his hair. His eyes blink tiredly as they look at you with round pupils.

"Mc? What just happened?" he asks, "I remember being at the party and then…" He pales and looks at you with concern.

"Apparently, there was a potion accidentally mixed into the sugar cookies," you say. "Are you feeling alright?"

He nods. "I'm fine now; I believe that when we kissed, the true affection we felt for each other was enough to break this enchantment." his cheeks flush, and he averts his eyes from yours, "It felt like I was dreaming; I apologize for my actions today, I hope I didn't make you feel uncomfortable at all."

You gently take his hand and offer up a smile, "So, you dream of me often?" your teasing brings a little smirk to his lips, and he knows there is nothing to forgive,

"Quite often, my dear." he gently kisses the crown of your head. "Although I wasn't acting like myself, I truly meant it when I said I never want to leave your side. I've prepared a special outing for us next week as a gift for you. I know we all agreed to spend today with you together, but I am still a Demon, and I must have my own time with you without distractions." 

"That sounds wonderful." you smile, hugging him tightly. You notice the sudden fatigue that clings to him, possibly a side effect of the potion. "How about you head back to the banquet hall and rest. Now that we know how to undo the spell, I can find the others, and we can get this party back on track.

He looks a bit disappointed but he gives your hand a gentle squeeze. "I suppose that's for the best, My Dear." He leans in close and murmurs into the shell of your ear, "But if you ever tell anyone of the details regarding my behavior under the effect of this potion, I promise you it will not go unpunished."

Mammon~

With one down and ten to go, you search the Castle once more. Your footsteps sound much quieter as you walk along the luxurious carpet that lines the long hallway. The knowledge of how to undo the effects of the potion is soothing, but this unintentional little game of hide and seek is certainly not helping speed this whole thing along.

Another worrying possibility is that simply kissing everyone may not work. Is it possible that the spell on Lucifer was broken due to something else entirely?

Your worry clouds your judgment as you wander past the heavy double doors of the palace treasury. For the first time in all of your visits here, you notice a lack of guards outside the doors. The treasury is completely unprotected. If it were any other day, you just know you would find Mammon poking around, trying to break into the vault using some cheap-looking skeleton key he got on Akuzon.

If Lucifer's clingy behavior was any indication of what was yet to come, the crown jewels of the Devildom would be the last thing on the Avatar of Greed's mind at the moment.

You pass the vault and begin to meander your way past the wall of portraits. You remember Barbatos explaining to you a while back that the individuals in these portraits are crucial to the Devildom's history and are up here as a way of honoring them. 

You pass Ancient Kings and Queens of old, their names carefully embedded on golden placards, written in languages that no longer are spoken. Painted eyes seemingly track your every move. They only stop when you stop in your tracks. Near the end of the lowly lit hallway, you think you see someone sitting on the carpet. As you creep closer, you see that it is Mammon. He is staring up at the wall with complete fascination.

"Mammon?" you call gently. His head snaps in your direction as soon as the soft sound of your voice reaches his ears. His eyes widen when he sees you, and those big, heart-shaped pupils stare back at you.

"Mc, it's really you." he smiles, getting slowly to his feet. His lack of coordination is evident as he walks over to you with small, shy steps. "I knew ya wouldn't forget about me."

"I could never forget about you, Mammon." Your smile lights up the dark hallway and beckons him closer. You brace yourself for an inhumanly strong bear hug, but it never comes. Mammon stops just a foot away from you and stares at you with eyes full of pure devotion. You feel a bit shy under his spotlight as he takes in every inch of your being.

"You're perfect, aren't ya?" he murmurs in a dreamy tone, his knees buckling in front of you. "Ya look like you were carved outta marble or somethin."

Mammon has never been one to be so generous with unprompted compliments before now; the potion must have something to do with all of these flowery words. You try to fight the flustered heat blossoming beneath your skin with a teasing remark. "That means a lot coming from The Great Mammon."

The use of his self-given nickname usually would make the Demon puff out his chest with pride, but now, he just seems to shrink meekly. "I'm not that Great," he says softly. "But you, you are Greater than Great. They should call ya the…uhhh…" 

He tries to think, but clearly, the love potion is scrambling his thoughts. "Whatever it is, yer it." He glances to the side and looks off at one of the pictures on the wall again.

"I was ready to stare at this all day long," he says, his blue eyes shining in admiration. "But now, with ya in front of me, I think the real thing is way better."

"Wait, what are you talking about?" you question, finally noticing what it was that has been entertaining the Demon for however long. Instead of seeing an oil painting of some long-dead member of the Devildom nobility, it's a simple Polaroid photo of you tacked to the wall. 

Peering closer, you recall spotting this photo tucked securely in Mammon's wallet. At the time, you had teased him about it and watched in amusement as he grew flustered, stammering through some half-hearted excuse as to why it was with him. It was flattering to know that he likes to keep a piece of you close to him, but now, you just feel that it looks so out of place next to these large paintings. A sharp feeling of shame and unworthiness plucks at your heartstrings, and you look away from it and back at the swaying Demon.

"What is that little thing doing up there?" you joke, looking between the elegant frames and your pixelated, kinda blurry face. "One of these things is not like the other."

Mammon looks at you with a confused expression on his face. "I put yer picture up here so then everyone will know just how special ya are. Yer Special Mc, and everyone in the Devildom deserves to see yer cute face."

It's a flattering notion, but the Love Potion has clearly made him overestimate the perception of your importance in the Devildom. 

"That is very sweet of you to say Mammon," you smile at him as you reach out to take the picture. "But I think this hallway was just meant for art."

Your fingers just graze the corner of the photograph before Mammon steps between you and the wall. He grabs your wrist with a firm intensity and you feel an unnatural warmth to his skin. Is this another side effect of the potion?

"No, it should stay." His tone is firm as his eyes scan your face. "Yer the best, better than all these clowns up on the wall." His eyes flicker to a portrait of a cat-like demon, and he scoffs. "Who even is this guy?"

You try to remember why his face looks so familiar. "Oh, I know this one." You explain proudly, recalling your Devildom History Class. "He was a botanist who made a fertilizer that promotes plant growth under the moonlight. He got the Devildom through a huge food shortage a couple thousand years ago and saved a lot of Demons."

Mammon gives you a huge smile. "See! That's why yer so amazing. So pretty, smart, cool, and ya always know how to make my heart do that thing where it keeps me up at night just thinking about that cute smile of yers." he grins, looking at you with his previous, unserious, lovey-dovey look in his eyes. You know he believes every word.

"Fine then," you say, your heart feeling full from his shower of compliments. "How about I get to take the photo with me if I give you a kiss?"

He nods instantly. "Kissin' ya would be the best." he sighs dreamily. "Ya just got these really soft lips that always taste like honey or somethin else that's really sweet."

There is a flash of that signature green in his eyes as he gently cups your face and leans in for the kiss slowly, as if he is trying to savor this brief moment. 

When your lips touch, the unnatural warmth to his skin seems to fade away. As Mammon seems to wake from the spell, he takes a reluctant step away from you in confusion.

"W-wha. Mc?" he blinks, furrowing his brows, trying to piece together the events from the last hour. 

"How are you feeling?"

"Those damn cookies," he growls, clenching his fists into balls at his side. "Just wait. When I get my hands on that Chihuahua, I swear I'll.." he stops mid-sentence, and his eyes go wide in shock. "I didn't say anythin weird or mushy, did I?"

"Ummm, like what?" you ask, feigning innocence. "You didn't say anything weird."

He laughs, throwing his head back. "Course I didn't. I'm the Great Mammon after all."

"You sure are," you say back, wrapping your arms around your First Demon. 

"What's that for?" He asks, hugging you back. 

"No reason." you hum, "Lucifer is in the Banquet Hall; you should head back and find him."

"Don't tell me. Ya gotta go and find the others?" he sighs, looking disappointed. 

"Seems like it." you shrug.

"Fine, but ya gotta promise me somethin'. Be careful; some of those guys are actin' all weird." he warms, reluctantly stepping out of your embrace. It's then he notices the photo of you on the wall. He looks confused and subconsciously feels around for his wallet. 

"How'd that get up there?" he murmurs, carefully removing it from the wall. But instead of tucking it back into the leather sleeve of his designer wallet, he decides to put it up higher on the wall, out of your reach.

"Aren't you gonna put it back in your wallet?" you ask

He shakes his head, "Nah, let's keep it up. Ya deserve a spot up there among the greats."

Leviathan~

After skillfully pointing Mammon back towards the banquet hall on the pathway that avoids the palace treasury, you find yourself alone once again…

Your shadow follows behind you like a cowardly companion, doing little to help with the feeling of isolation and paranoia that prickles down your spine. 

Taking another step forward, you step on something small and let out a small gasp as you flinch backward. The thing you stepped on has a human shape and your heart sinks to your stomach.

Was one of the strange side effects of the potion shrinking?

Did you just kill someone?

You take your DDD out of your pocket and shine your flashlight on the floor, praying to whoever is listening that you didn't crush any of your loved ones with the sole of the designer shoes Asmodeus bought for you.

Immediately, you feel relief as the light hits the object you stepped on. It's not a tiny demon, Angel, or Sorcerer. Instead, the minuscule, solid-plastic, smiling face of Rui Chan stares back at you. 

Without a doubt, this little phone charm belongs to LEviathan. It's twin swings from your device from a daintily braided string, but hers looks frayed, like it was ripped off and she was discarded.  

"You poor thing," you say softly, crouching down to pick up the fallen character. "I promise I'll get you all fixed up in no time."

You slip the figurine into your pocket and continue onwards. Levi must be around here somewhere, but where?

Beneath the cracks of one of the doors, you notice light spilling out. Slowly, you open the door to reveal one of the Castle's many indoor pools. The water ripples, and a head of purple hair breaks through the surface.

Levi has discarded his shirt and gracefully swims around in just his dark pants. Swimming in denim may not be super comfortable, but since he is an aquatic demon, he must be used to this kind of thing. 

When he sees you, he stops what he's doing and just stares at you with a blank expression. Unlike the others you have seen so far, there is no sign of a blush on his cheeks, but he seems different somehow.

Is it his posture?

"What are you doing in there?" you ask, calling out to the Demon. He seems to shake himself out of his daze and hunches over in embarrassment. 

"T-the others wanted to have dates with you." he stammers. "But no one is as strong in the water as me, so I claimed the pool. None of those Normies could take you away from me now.

So far, Levi isn't acting as strange as the others, but you are still cautious. "That is very smart of you, Levi," you say. "But I am not dressed for swimming, so maybe we could do something else together."

His eyes rake up and down your body, eying your attire. "Oh, you're right." he mutters, "I bet you think I'm just a stupid otaku who needs to touch grass."

"You know I don't think that," you say, briefly wondering why he dosent seem to be embarrassed as he usually is. He swims over to the edge of the pool and stares up at you expectantly. "I-i can't get out of the water on my own. Will you help me up?"

He holds out his hand for you to take, and you reach for it like it's second nature. It's only when he has a firm grip on your hand that his features shift, and he smirks devilishly, dropping his shy and unconfident act. "Oh, Mc, I just knew you would come to me."

He pulls you effortlessly over the pool's edge, and you squeal, hitting the water with a loud splash. Water fills your mouth as you thrash about, trying to breach the surface.

Levi's arms wrap around your waist as he pulls you to the surface. As you cough up water and try to catch your breath, he looks at you with those heart-shaped pupils. 

"There you go Mc," he purrs seductively. His fingers swipe away damp strands of hair out of your face. "Now I can see you clearly."

"Levi, what did you do that for?" you cough blindly, reaching for the pool's edge. But his grip around your waist is firm. You aren't going anywhere.

There is a weight in your back pocket that makes your heart sink. "Oh shoot." you take your DDD out of your pocket and raise it above the water. The screen flickers once, then twice, before going completely black. 

It's ruined…

So much for telling Luke you found the cure…

Levi's eyes flare with jealousy as he gives your side a gentle squeeze. "Hey now, put that thing away. You're with me, so you won't be needing any of those distractions. 

This side of Levi is bold, smooth, and a bit aggressive.

You would be lying if you said you didn't think this boldness was kinda hot. 

Gingerly, he takes your waterlogged device out of your hand and starts to place it on the edge of the pool behind him, but when he sees your little Rui chan charm swaying back and forth, he stops, narrowing his eyes at the collectible. "Why do you still have that junky thing?

Your gut starts to feel uneasy. Levi really did rip off that limited edition charm you guys got at the meet and greet.

Just as he starts trying to unravel the little braided cord, you come up with a plan. 

Turning on your natural charm, you let out a little giggle and loop your arms around his chest, successfully grabbing his full attention. "Noooo, come on. It's just too cute. I like keeping it with me since you got it for me."

He chuckles and nips at your ear. "This piece of plastic is nowhere near as cute as you Mc, but if that's really what you want, then I guess it can stay." With the DDD and the phone charm safely out of the water, you feel relieved. 

"Thank you, Levi." you coo, tracking his predatory gaze as it drops to your lips. He wastes no time pressing him to yours with confidence. 

The butterflies in your stomach take flight as your eyes flutter shut. Seconds later, you notice that his initial ferocity fades, and he lets himself go.

His eyes are wide open now, and he looks absolutely terrified. 

Mc, why are we swimming?" he gasps, looking down at your kiss-swollen lips. "What did I do?"

"It's okay Levi," you say comfortingly. And you mean it, this was because of the potion. "You were under a spell and didn't know what you were doing."

"But I still did it." he cries. "Brb, I gotta go become one with the pool now." 

He starts to lower himself into the water once more, but you pull him up so he cannot sulk at the bottom of the pool for the rest of his day. "Hey, come on. Let's get out of here and dry off the best we can.

He looks down at your soaked clothing and hair. His face flushes redder and redder until he looks like he is about to faint. Wasting no time, you start to lead him out of the water for his own safety. 

"I am so so so sorry." he apologizes again. "I know you will never want to see me ever again. All I am is a gross Otaku shut-in who tried to act like some kind of Dating Sim protagonist and failed miserably."

You take a fluffy white towel from one of the tables and gently pat his purple hair dry. "I still want to see you silly."

He shyly meets your gaze and gives you a wobbly smile. But then he sees his DDD resting on the table next to him. "Wait. Where is Rui-Chan?"

He scans the room frantically, and his breathing quickens. 

Before he has a full-blown panic attack, you take the charm out of your pocket and drop it into his open palm. "Shhhh, it's okay. The string broke, but it's an easy fix. How about you go back to the banquet hall and try to put it back together."

He looks at you like you have just hung all the stars in the sky. "You're an angel, Mc. That's my Henry, I always knew I could count on you."

He starts to head back toward the Banquet Hall, the sound of wet denim swishing back and forth, following him as he goes.

Alone again, you look down at your pool-soaked clothing and roll your eyes at the inconvenience. "Okay. Three down, eight to go."

Tagging: @nutmeg030 @im-in-love-with-fairytales @snowthatareblack @stressed-cryptid @miracl3d @that-1-simp @the-panda-queen @melpomenelurks @romaissa @randomdutchgirl @skei2p @downinbedrock @yuuvis32 @exrellian @cuddlybelphie @yeet-skeet-nifty-neat @thorn--bush @commets-space @enchantedforest-network

Could you write some general Alucard x fem reader nsfw headcanons?

Sure <3

General Alucard x Fem S/O NSFW Headcannons (Those Nights)

A gentleman, but also a shit. No in between.

Sex for you and Alucard can be as intense and passionate as the last remaining light of a sunset over a star lit lake, hot, mesmerizing, and utterly feverish.

It's those nights of him pinning you under his weight, rutting into you steadily and without falter as he whispers dirty promises and sweet nothing into your ear, in any language you desire.

It's rendezvous right after missions, when Alucard is still covered in blood and gore, forcing you against the nearest wall and stripping your panties off to have his way with you, while the adrenaline is still spiking through his veins.

And it's slow and tender love-making in your bed during evenings when the nightmares seem too real, thinking he's back in that coffin, buried six feet under with a stake in his heart. Those moments are when Alucard holds you particularly tenderly, too soft to be the touch of a monster, too careful for a creature without a heart.

But there are also moments where he can't help but have fun with you. It's shit-eating grins, and diabolical laughter, using you like a toy and fucking you until you're begging for mercy. That Alucard is one you can see coming from a thousand miles away, just based off of the strut in his walk, and the swagger in his drawl.

You've devised a ritual for mentally preparing yourself for those nights, involving caffeinated tea, skin moisturizer, YouTube yoga, and a couple over-the-counter painkillers.

Integra got suspicious after the second time your bed frame was broken, and if it were not for Alucard's insistence on hearing it bang against the wall while he fucks you, you'd be sleeping in just a mattress on the floor by now.

It's those nights where he cracks morbid jokes while pounding you to oblivion, bending you in half and making you cry from the overstimulation, while he just smirks down at you in satisfaction.

It's long days when you are thoroughly reminded that you are only human, and he is a creature of lust and passion with a stamina that could rival a champion greyhound, and a cock that would make Asmodeous blush.

And it's broken promises that he will give you a break, only to pull you back onto his lap, forcing you to ride him until your legs feel like jelly, or taking you from behind until that damn bed frame breaks a fifth time.

Some days you wish you could just have a week off to heal your poor body, but all it takes is one smile from the handsome bastard, and your panties drop to the ground in an instant. Damn him to hell.

Imagine being in a relationship with Dottore but with a twist. He has a fake amnesia.

Imagine months after reuniting with your lover. You started to notice that he was a little different from before. He was your Dottore, at the same time, just like what you have felt before. He was different, there were times where it felt like he was the man you love, but there were also times where you wonder if this man was really the man you love.

"Dar- no, Dottore. Can we talk?" He was busy, you knew that. He was always busy. But at the same time, he always make time for you. He always does, that was something that never changed. "Dottore? Little one, what did I do wrong this time?" Setting down his paper, his masked face came into view. "You always call me Darling but often call me by my name whenever you're upset." He spoke gently, standing up from his seat and started walking towards you who was now looking down at your lap, unable to face him for the words that you are about to say.

Imagine, you love Dottore. Even when he went missing for months. Even when it has to be you to go and went to look for him not the other way around. You did that because you love him. But you do not know what to feel anymore. He feels different. Or maybe you never get to know his true self, maybe what he have shown to you was a mare fragment of himself. You love him still, you do. But sometimes he scares you. It was not just you, you could see the way others look at him, some were admiration, respect and there there was the look of terrified people. There was also that fact that he never once, after meeting you, took of his mask. Did he not trust you anymore?

"Little one." There he was right in front of you. "Couldn't bare to look at me anymore hmm?" There he was sweet talking you, it reminds you of the past where he would often do the same when soothing you. "Look at me little one." You felt him gently place a hand on your chin before gently lifting it up. "Tell me what's wrong, hmm?" You were contemplating, once in a while looking back and front at him and into our side only to let out a sigh. "Dottore, I think we need a break..."

Imagine, Dottore thought you were really interesting. That fact that you, manage to capture the heart of one of his clones, telling you about his real name let alone where to find him. Tells how important you have become to that clone of him. And to be honest for the past months that he has been with you, he did see why. Why his clone had gone through such measure. You were kind and innocent. Very innocent. He could tell you a lie and you would believe it with no questions asked, makes him wonder how could such human being give their trust so easily. It makes him thrilled and it cames him greedy. He wanted to keep you at all cost within his arms, make sure yor world would only revolve around him.

so Imagine the way his eye twitches as soon as you said those words. He have always been patience with you. But at those very moments, he almost grabbed you by the neck, almost asked you why, why would you say such scary thing? Take a break? Why was that needed? He was giving you everything that you want. His time, affection, expensive gift and jewellery, the books that you want. So why was that needed? What was wrong? Why the fuck would you think the two of you needed a break? But then he needs to calm down, he needed to calm down. So with silent rage, he asked. "Why?" Then you answered. "Because sometimes, you felt like a different person, Dottore. You're scaring me sometimes." You answered, eyes tearing up. "I'm sorry." You sniff, looking down once again as he halted.

Imagine the way Dottore halted. A different person? Of course that make sense. He and his clone may be the same but at the same time, they were not. And it was his clone you fell in love with. There might be a resemblance when it comes to him and his clone but the fact that you thought, you felt like they were different, he was different was making sense. But so what? So what if they were different? In the end, he was the one who remained, the was the original. His clone may have found you, but you found him. And that was his win.

Imagine, to your surprise. Dottore suddenly kneel down in front of you. "What are you doi-?!" When you urged when to look at you, his mask was gone, forgotten on the floor. This- this was the face of the man you love. "Little one." You felt your heart ache at his pained smile as you felt him take a hold of your hands that was resting on your lap. "I'm sorry you felt that way." The way his face sadden, his lips curling down, you felt bad to yourself. "Maybe it has something to do with my amnesia." He looked away as you looked at him wide eyes. "What?!" "No- that was a slip of tongue Little one. Do forget what I have just said." Then he stood up and was about to leave. "Perhaps you are right, Little one. Maybe we should take a break.." He sound so heart broken that it immediately snap you out of your flabbergasted state.

Imagine the way you chase after him, grabbing him by the hem of his coat just like the first time the two of you met. "Wa-wait. Dotto- Darling. What do you mean amnesia?" You sound like you were about to cry that it almost made his lips curl up. "Di-did you get hurt while you were away?" This time you thug his coat harder. "Is that why you were not able to come home to me?" You felt so bad. "Is-is that why you were acting to different? Because you lost your memories?" Then you felt his shoulder tremble causing you to panic and hug him from behind. "I'm sorry. I was wrong. Darling, I was wrong. We don't need a break, I was a fool. I'm sorry, please don't mind what I said. I did not know you have gone through such thing. If I have known I would never do such thing. I should have never doubted you, Darling."

Imagine the way he turn around and how his heart broken face. Making you feel even bad, his time hugging him, hiding your face on his chest as you cry silently, telling him sorry for saying such hurtful and stupid things. But when you felt him hug you back, you felt a little relief one to feel bad once again when you could clearly feel his shoulder trembling. Once again you murmur stings of apologies, promising you'll be by his side until the end. But in contrast to your imagination. He was not crying like you has imagined him to me. In fact he was laughing, he was laughing silently that it causes his shoulder to go up and down. A devilish smile on his lips as he pull you even closer to him. "It's alright." In contrast to his grin, his voice sounds hurt no one would ever assume it was coming from him if they were to look at his face right now. "You're forgiven, Little one. Stay by my side like you promised, hmm."

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2024°

Proving a point to my boyfriend.

PLEASE REBLOG if you (male or female) believe it is perfectly okay and natural for a guy of any age to cry

'but daddy i love him' and it's sukuna

getting so fucked up by boothill that we have to turn him off to take a break...............

oh great heavens 😳😵‍💫😵‍💫 i wonder if he has an on/off button....

nsfw（＾ω＾）he's a meanie, afab!reader, robot dick (it vibrates btw), doggystyle, this is kind of rushed i'm sorry + i'm not well-versed in writing cyborgs/robots sigh...

"sensitive, ain't cha?" that familar sneers came from behind you, as boothill presses his metallic body against yours, drawing yet another moan from your parted mouth. this damn cyborg, does he ever ran out of gas?

it's not like you can ask him or even think about it, not when your pussy is being brutally bullied by his cock—which he had purposely set to the highest vibration setting, making it impossible for you to stay quiet. combine that with the cool feeling of his length sliding in and out of your warm walls—man, you can barely feel your legs at this point.

you groan, closing your eyes and clutching the sheets desperately as if holding on to the little sanity you had left. unfortunately, this only motivates him to go harder, forcing you to open your eyes again as steam rises from the gaps in his body, signaling how overheated he gets after hours of fucking you without breaks. unfortunately for you, he can still goes on for days or even weeks until he needs to recharge again—a body befitting his occupation as a galaxy ranger.

soft whines and cries flew out of your mouth as he forces another orgasm out of your abused cunt, "stop already... 'm tired..." you pout, trying to keep your shaking legs still.

your hand reaches up for the hidden button on the back of his neck, but the galaxy ranger quickly caught your wrist, cackling at your adorable attempt at shutting him down, "are ya sure y'want to stop, cutie? sweet, i can't even pull out with how much you're squeezing me in, looky here, see?" to emphasize his point, he presses down on your lower stomach, knowing that the gesture will makes you squirm and causes your pussy to suck him in even deeper. sly mf.

nonono, that will not distract you from turning him off, not this time. you let out a hiss as you use your other hand to hold him down, "let me rest, you pervert!" and with determination, your hands finally reached his button before boothill can stop you, pressing down on it to make him enter power-saving mode. the cyborg instantly plops down beside you, face-first into the sheets with a loud groan. finally, you can catch your breath. it'll be at least a few hours before the mode automatically ends itself, which means you can sleep or clean up for a bit before he wakes up and starts kicking a fuss again.

while his system forces him to sleep, boothill keeps mumbling about how he's gonna make you pay later, that he's gonna pound you until you collapse so you won't even have the energy to reach his button—well, it won't happen until later, so use the limited time you have wisely before he wakes up.

I'd come SO FAST if he looked at me like that

angelic alteration

om brothers x reader

wc : 1.k

warnings: nsfw, corruption kink based

synopsis : when Solomon and Diavolo can't fix the problem, it's up to Mc

a/n : thought the angel event (og) could use some more spice so I poured my entire spice rack on it

“Mc…I’m afraid we have bad news.”

You sighed into the receiver, “Yeah? You guys can’t reverse the magic, can you?”

“Nope!” Solomon chirped cheerfully, “Diavolo and Michael’s magic mixed together too strongly for us to reverse ourselves. You’ll just have to wait for them to go back to normal, or…”

“Or…what?”

“Well, this is just a theory, but what if you just corrupted the angelic magic and forced their demonic sides back out?”

“Corrupted, huh..? I like the sound of that.”

†

“I can feel the magic trying to stop me…how. stupidly. annoying.” Lucifer accentuated each word of his complaint with a sharp thrust, face pinched in concentration as sweat beaded at his temple. 

He’d be damned if something as trivial as a hexed bracelet from the celestial realm kept him from indulging in you, the one temptation he would never dare ignore. 

Your nails dug crescent moons into his shoulders, thighs squeezing at his hips tightly as you moaned and panted beneath him. “Lu-ci-fer! S-slow d-own!” 

He growled and sped up in response, snapping his hips into you harshly, “How dare they try to turn me back? I am the Avatar. Of. Pride!” Once again, each word was accentuated with a thrust, making his cock hit deeper and deeper each time. 

And he was so fucking proud each time he had you a moaning mess underneath him, crying out his name, begging him not to stop— you made his sin flood his entire body every time. 

An electric charge cracked through the air for a brief second before the bangle broke in half, magic forcibly shattering under Lucifer’s sheer prowess. 

He grinned sharply, capturing your legs against your chest in a mating press as he went even harder. His wings shedded to black, spanning out proudly behind him as the halo melted down into his horns. 

“I’m going to ruin you, do you hear me? You’re not leaving this bed- not tonight, or in the morning, or maybe even until tomorrow afternoon…I’m keeping you until I’ve had my fill.”

†

The sight of Mammon’s blue eyes peering up while his mouth was busy pleasuring you had always been a pretty sight— the shimmering halo was only a little bonus this time. 

But you wanted his horns to hold onto. “Just like that, Mams…doing so well, pretty boy.” Your hips rocked over his mouth, grinning down at him with gold flickering in your eyes. 

He was all about giving now that the bangle had taken hold, which even before, Mammon always keened when you sat on his face and just used him. 

The second born was moaning and whining and whimpering against your skin as his tongue lapped up everything he could, “Mmph- like this? ‘M I doing good, Mc?” 

“Y-yeah, baby, fuck— so good…” you carded your fingers through Mammon’s hair, feeling him get more and more excited before you lifted up off his face. 

And he was absolutely distraught with the lack of your taste, desperate cry leaving him as he tried to chase after you. “No, no, no! Mc, please, come back— wasn’t done, wanna taste you still, wanna make you feel good, please!” 

The laugh you let out made him whine even louder, fingers gripping frantically at your thighs. It was like a switch flipped, magic being overtaken by his greed. 

His eyes flickered gold like yours, a whiny growl escaping him. He forced you on your back within a second, mouth working at you even more desperately now as he held you down and took what he wanted— and he wanted to make you cum. 

“Jus’ let me, please let me make you cum— you taste so good, Mc, I don’t wanna stop. Want you to scream my name and yank my hair, grip my horns, just give me more- more, more, more!” 

†

A small shriek left Levi when you rammed against his prostate, hiccuped cries of your name following. His back arched, wings flaring out behind him, making you hit even deeper spots inside of him. 

With his new attitude, he’d been letting everyone else spend time with you and he was finally feeling the built up envy creep along his spine, right beside the spikes of pleasure. 

“Aww…look at you. So sweet for me, huh? Why so shy, Levi? Wasn’t this what you meant about strengthening connections?” 

Garbled sounds left him, courtesy of your fingers stuffed in his mouth. His eyes rolled back, hands gripping at your hips desperately, though it wasn’t clear if he was pushing you away or pulling you closer.

“How am I gonna know I’m doing good if you don’t tell me, ‘vi? C’mon, sweet thing, tell me. Or do you not want me?” 

It was like you asked the unthinkable. A loud whine left him and his tail returned, knocking the halo right off his head before it coiled around your abdomen. 

“No! I want you, I want you so badly, please keep fucking me— don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop!” Diamond shaped scales scattered across his body as the magic wore out. 

You cooed, thrusting into him sharply, making his body lurch, “Good boy, Leviathan..” 

†

“Fuck!” Satan cries out, fingers digging into his white wings to try and keep them from fluttering. His back arched almost painfully, loudly begging you to keep going. 

“Oh, look at you…” the coos that left you made him flush red, giving you a great sense of satisfaction. This was the most he’d been riled up since putting that ridiculous bangle on.

Your thighs were burning at the unforgiving pace you were riding him at, beads of sweat splashing onto his skin, so you decided to change the game a little. 

“Come on, Tannie, if you want it, work for it.” You settled your weight on top of him, ceasing your movements as you cockwarmed him instead. 

A displeased growl comes from the back of his throat, eyes snapping open with a glowing green. “Mc, move! Please!” 

Slowly, the halo above his head began to flicker and dim before it shattered, dissipating in the air. Another growl escaped him as his wings followed suit, tail lashing out like a whip. 

“That’s it— c’mon-!” You gasped when he yanked you forwards, chest pressing against his as his tail locked you in place. The only sounds that could leave you now were broken moans as he fucked you almost viciously. 

“You know how I feel about you fucking. teasing. me. Feels good doesn’t it? Yeah? Cause I’m not stopping. ‘M not stopping until I physically can’t fuck you anymore— fuck, I needed you.” 

†

Unabashed moans echo off the walls of Asmo’s bathroom as the fifth born writhes under your touch. The sound of water sloshing makes his cheeks burn fiery red and the sound of you moaning back at him makes it even worse. 

“W-wait! You d-don’t have to— oh!” 

“Shh, Azzy…’m just taking care of you. You were so hard and aching…could see it even though you tried to hide under the water.” 

The white feathers ruffled with pleasure (slowly shedded away and turning back), hips jerking frantically to chase the pleasure. The bangle’s magic was completely buried under how hot you made him feel and the feeling of you licking along the edges of his leathery wings increased it ten fold. 

“Yes, Mc, like that— don’t stop, just like that, just like that!” Amso curled over on you, horns knocking against your shoulder as he cried out even louder. 

You fisted his cock harder and swiped your thumb over the tip relentlessly, “Yeah? Made you feel so good, you corrupted yourself, huh? Pretty little Azzy…come on, cum.” 

The squeal he let out cracked halfway through, broken cries of your name following like a mantra. His hand encased yours, making sure you didn’t stop jerking him off. 

“K-keep going, don’t stop! Wanna cum for you again ‘n again, gotta make up for when I was giving you away to the others, please, please, let me cum again for you!”

†

“H-haaah…ah! M-Mc…what’re you..o-oh..doing?” 

“You said it made you happier seeing others get to eat, so…” you hummed, licking your lips before digging your tongue back into the slit of his cock, “I’m just..enjoying my meal…” 

Beel had always lost his cool when you went down on him, finding your mouth to be too good at pleasuring him. The growl he let out was something only a demon could make. 

The glowing of the bangle did nothing to deter you— in fact, you only laughed and peered up at him with the red sin of gluttony swirling through your irises. With another hum, you enveloped his cock in your mouth and forced your head as far down as you could, swallowing around him. 

He tried so hard to not buck into your mouth or grip at your head as the magic worked to keep his ravenous nature at bay, but…that’s just not who he was anymore. 

“C’mon, Beelie…want you to cum in my mouth, I wanna taste you..pretty please? Let me have it…” 

A low groan fell past his lips, hips finally jerking up and accidentally making you choke. A rushed apology was given as his fingers tangled in your hair and gently guided your head at a faster pace. 

The beating of his insectual wings was rapid as he got closer, magic completely dissipating when he let out a sound akin to a small roar, grabbing at his own horns when he came. 

Watching you pull away with visibly stuffed cheeks, slowly working on swallowing it all (though drops still ran down your chin) made a sharp pang shoot through him. 

“Thank you…you always make me feel so good, Mc…but..now ‘m hungry. Let me return the favor..wanna taste you too.” 

†

“A-are you sure…this is o-okay?” Belphie chokes out quietly, hands pressing down on your hips to keep you pinned to the bed with your knees bent to your sides. 

Your fingers curl in the sheets, body lurching forward at each thrust, “yeah, ‘s okay— feels good, doesn’t it? You’re doing so good, Bel…” 

The clipped whines and gasps that Belphie was making made his cheeks flair with an embarrassed flush; but you were right. It felt so. fucking. good. And he didn’t think he ever wanted to stop. 

Through the pleasure, it was easy to ignore the glowing bangle on his wrist and the voice in the back of his head telling him that he should have more reservations- that he shouldn’t be doing this— that voice wasn’t even his. Belphie wanted this, he did! 

As your hands stretched back to claw at his lower stomach, you moaned out his name and wiggled your hips, begging him to go faster. 

“Please, Bel…know you can go f-faster than this, want you to fuck me— please, please, please! Don’t wan’ you to be an angel, want you to be my demon again-!” 

Magic cracked in the air, sending the hair on the back of your neck rising before a familiar tail curled around your stomach and yanked your lower half higher up, forcing your chest further into the mattress. 

The attic bed creaked with the force he slammed into you at, whines mixing with growls now; his horns pressed against your skin as he rested his forehead against your back, making it arch even more.  “Yeah? You want me to fuck you senseless again? Couldn’t even go a couple days without having me play with you, fuck, you’re such a slut for me.”

Reblog to kill it faster

words to use when writing

Appetite:

craving, demand, gluttony, greed, hunger, inclination, insatiable, longing, lust, passion, ravenousness, relish, taste, thirst, urge, voracity, weakness, willingness, yearning, ardor, dedication, desire, devotion, enthusiasm, excitement, fervor, horny, intensity, keenness, wholeheartedness, zeal

Arouse:

agitate, awaken, electrify, enliven, excite, entice, foment, goad, incite, inflame, instigate, kindle, provoke, rally, rouse, spark, stimulate, stir, thrill, waken, warm, whet, attract, charm, coax, fire up, fuel, heat up, lure, produce, stir up, tantalize, tease, tempt, thrum, torment, wind up, work up

Assault:

attack, advancing, aggressive, assailing, charging, incursion, inundated, invasion, offensive, onset, onslaught, overwhelmed, ruinous, tempestuous, strike, violation, ambush, assail, barrage, bombard, bombardment, crackdown, wound

Beautiful: 

admirable, alluring, angelic, appealing, bewitching, charming, dazzling, delicate, delightful, divine, elegant, enticing, exquisite, fascinating, gorgeous, graceful, grand, magnificent, marvelous, pleasing, radiant, ravishing, resplendent, splendid, stunning, sublime, attractive, beguiling, captivating, enchanting, engaging, enthralling, eye-catching, fetching, fine, fine-looking, good-looking, handsome, inviting, lovely, mesmeric, mesmerizing, pretty, rakish, refined, striking, tantalizing, tempting

Brutal:

atrocious, barbarous, bloodthirsty, callous, cruel, feral, ferocious, hard, harsh, heartless, inhuman, merciless, murderous, pitiless, remorseless, rough, rude, ruthless, savage, severe, terrible, unmerciful, vicious, bestial, brute, brutish, cold-blooded, fierce, gory, nasty, rancorous, sadistic, uncompromising, unfeeling, unforgiving, unpitying, violent, wild

Burly:

able-bodied, athletic, beefy, big, brawny, broad-shouldered, bulky, dense, enormous, great, hard, hardy, hearty, heavily built, heavy, hefty, huge, husky, immense, large, massive, muscular, mighty, outsized, oversized, powerful, powerfully built, prodigious, robust, solid, stalwart, stocky, stout, strapping, strong, strongly built, sturdy, thick, thickset, tough, well-built, well-developed

Carnal:

animalistic, bodily, impure, lascivious, lecherous, lewd, libidinous, licentious, lustful, physical, prurient, salacious, sensuous, voluptuous, vulgar, wanton, , coarse, crude, dirty, raunchy, rough, unclean

Dangerous:

alarming, critical, fatal, formidable, impending, malignant, menacing, mortal, nasty, perilous, precarious, pressing, serious, terrible, threatening, treacherous, urgent, vulnerable, wicked, acute, damaging, deadly, death-defying, deathly, destructive, detrimental, explosive, grave, harmful, hazardous, injurious, lethal, life-threatening, noxious, poisonous, risky, severe, terrifying, toxic, unsafe, unstable, venomous

Dark:

atrocious, corrupt, forbidding, foul, infernal, midnight, morbid, ominous, sinful, sinister, somber, threatening, twilight, vile, wicked, abject, alarming, appalling, baleful, bizarre, bleak, bloodcurdling, boding evil, chilling, cold, condemned, creepy, damned, daunting, demented, desolate, dire, dismal, disturbing, doomed, dour, dread, dreary, dusk, eerie, fear, fearsome, frightening, ghastly, ghostly, ghoulish, gloom, gloomy, grave, grim, grisly, gruesome, hair-raising, haunted, hideous, hopeless, horrendous, horrible, horrid, horrific, horrifying, horror, ill-fated, ill-omened, ill-starred, inauspicious, inhospitable, looming, lost, macabre, malice, malignant, menacing, murky, mysterious, night, panic, pessimistic, petrifying, scary, shadows, shadowy, shade, shady, shocking, soul-destroying, sour, spine-chilling, spine-tingling, strange, terrifying, uncanny, unearthly, unlucky, unnatural, unnerving, weird, wretched

Delicious:

enticing, exquisite, luscious, lush, rich, savory, sweet, tasty, tempting, appetizing, delectable, flavorsome, full of flavor, juicy, lip-smacking, mouth-watering, piquant, relish, ripe, salty, spicy, scrummy, scrumptious, succulent, tangy, tart, tasty, yummy, zesty

Ecstasy:

delectation, delirium, elation, euphoria, fervor, frenzy, joy, rapture, transport, bliss, excitement, happiness, heaven, high, paradise, rhapsody, thrill, blissful, delighted, elated, extremely happy, in raptures (of delight), in seventh heaven, jubilant, on cloud nine, overexcited, overjoyed, rapturous, thrilled

Ecstatic:

delirious, enraptured, euphoric, fervent, frenzied, joyous, transported, wild

Erotic:

amatory, amorous, aphrodisiac, carnal, earthy, erogenous, fervid, filthy, hot, impassioned, lascivious, lecherous, lewd, raw, romantic, rousing, salacious, seductive, sensual, sexual, spicy, steamy, stimulating, suggestive, titillating, voluptuous, tantalizing

Gasp:

catch of breath, choke, gulp, heave, inhale, pant, puff, snort, wheeze, huff, rasp, sharp intake of air, short of breath, struggle for breath, swallow, winded 

Heated:

ardent, avid, excited, fervent, fervid, fierce, fiery, frenzied, furious, impassioned, intense, passionate, raging, scalding, scorched, stormy, tempestuous, vehement, violent, ablaze, aflame, all-consuming, blazing, blistering, burning, crazed, explosive, febrile, feverish, fired up, flaming, flushed, frantic, hot, hot-blooded, impatient, incensed, maddening, obsessed, possessed, randy, searing, sizzling, smoldering, sweltering, torrid, turbulent, volatile, worked up, zealous

Hunger:

appetite, ache, craving, gluttony, greed, longing, lust, mania, mouth-watering, ravenous, voracious, want, yearning, thirst

Hungry:

avid, carnivorous, covetous, craving, eager, greedy, hungered, rapacious, ravenous, starved, unsatisfied, voracious, avaricious, desirous, famished, grasping, insatiable, keen, longing, predatory, ravening, starving, thirsty, wanting

Intense:

forceful, severe, passionate, acute, agonizing, ardent, anxious, biting, bitter, burning, close, consuming, cutting, deep, eager, earnest, excessive, exquisite, extreme, fervent, fervid, fierce, forcible, great, harsh, impassioned, keen, marked, piercing, powerful, profound, severe, sharp, strong, vehement, violent, vivid, vigorous

Liquid:

damp, cream, creamy, dripping, ichorous, juicy, moist, luscious, melted, moist, pulpy, sappy, soaking, solvent, sopping, succulent, viscous, wet / aqueous, broth, elixir, extract, flux, juice, liquor, nectar, sap, sauce, secretion, solution, vitae, awash, moisture, boggy, dewy, drenched, drip, drop, droplet, drowning, flood, flooded, flowing, fountain, jewel, leaky, milky, overflowing, saturated, slick, slippery, soaked, sodden, soggy, stream, swamp, tear, teardrop, torrent, waterlogged, watery, weeping

Lithe:

agile, lean, pliant, slight, spare, sinewy, slender, supple, deft, fit, flexible, lanky, leggy, limber, lissom, lissome, nimble, sinuous, skinny, sleek, slender, slim, svelte, trim, thin, willowy, wiry

Moan:

beef, cry, gripe, grouse, grumble, lament, lamentation, plaint, sob, wail, whine, bemoan, bewail, carp, deplore, grieve, gripe, grouse, grumble, keen, lament, sigh, sob, wail, whine, mewl

Moving:

(exciting,) affecting, effective  arousing, awakening, breathless, dynamic, eloquent, emotional, emotive, expressive, fecund, far-out, felt in gut, grabbed by, gripping, heartbreaking, heartrending, impelling, impressive, inspirational, meaningful, mind-bending, mind-blowing, motivating, persuasive, poignant, propelling, provoking, quickening, rallying, rousing, significant, stimulating, simulative, stirring, stunning, touching, awe-inspiring, energizing, exhilarating, fascinating, heart pounding, heart stopping, inspiring, riveting, thrilling

Need:

compulsion, demand, desperate, devoir, extremity, impatient longing, must, urge, urgency / desire, appetite, avid, burn, craving, eagerness, fascination, greed, hunger, insatiable, longing, lust, taste, thirst, voracious, want, yearning, ache, addiction, aspiration, desire, fever, fixation, hankering, hope, impulse, inclination, infatuation, itch, obsession, passion, pining, wish, yen

Pain: 

ache, afflict, affliction, agony, agonize, anguish, bite, burn, chafe, distress, fever, grief, hurt, inflame, laceration, misery, pang, punish, sting, suffering, tenderness, throb, throe, torment, torture, smart

Painful:

aching, agonizing, arduous, awful, biting, burning, caustic, dire, distressing, dreadful, excruciating, extreme, grievous, inflamed, piercing, raw, sensitive, severe, sharp, tender, terrible, throbbing, tormenting, angry, bleeding, bloody, bruised, cutting, hurting, injured, irritated, prickly, skinned, smarting, sore, stinging, unbearable, uncomfortable, upsetting, wounded

Perverted: 

aberrant, abnormal, corrupt, debased, debauched, defiling, depraved, deviant, monstrous, tainted, twisted, vicious, warped, wicked, abhorrent, base, decadent, degenerate, degrading, dirty, disgusting, dissipated, dissolute, distasteful, hedonistic, immodest, immoral, indecent, indulgent, licentious, nasty, profligate, repellent, repugnant, repulsive, revolting, shameful, shameless, sickening, sinful, smutty, sordid, unscrupulous, vile 

Pleasurable:

charming, gratifying, luscious, satisfying, savory, agreeable, delicious, delightful, enjoyable, nice, pleasant, pleasing, soothing, succulent

Pleasure:

bliss, delight, gluttony, gratification, relish, satisfaction, thrill, adventure, amusement, buzz, contentment, delight, desire, ecstasy, enjoyment, excitement, fun, happiness, harmony, heaven, joy, kick, liking, paradise, seventh heaven 

Rapacious:

avaricious, ferocious, furious, greedy, predatory, ravening, ravenous, savage, voracious, aggressive, gluttonous, grasping, insatiable, marauding, plundering

Rapture:

bliss, ecstasy, elation, exaltation, glory, gratification, passion, pleasure, floating, unbridled joy

Rigid:

adamant, austere, definite, determined, exact, firm, hard, rigorous, solid, stern, uncompromising, unrelenting, unyielding, concrete, fixed, harsh, immovable, inflexible, obstinate, resolute, resolved, severe, steadfast, steady, stiff, strong, strict, stubborn, taut, tense, tight, tough, unbending, unchangeable, unwavering

Sudden:

abrupt, accelerated, acute, fast, flashing, fleeting, hasty, headlong, hurried, immediate, impetuous, impulsive, quick, quickening, rapid, rash, rushing, swift, brash, brisk, brusque, instant, instantaneous, out of the blue, reckless, rushed, sharp, spontaneous, urgent, without warning

Thrust:

(forward) advance, drive, forge, impetus, impulsion, lunge, momentum, onslaught, poke, pressure, prod, propulsion, punch, push, shove, power, proceed, progress, propel

(push hard) assail, assault, attack, bear down, buck, drive, force, heave, impale, impel, jab, lunge, plunge, press, pound, prod, ram, shove, stab, transfix, urge, bang, burrow, cram, gouge, jam, pierce, punch, slam, spear, spike, stick

Thunder-struck:

amazed, astonished, aghast, astounded, awestruck, confounded, dazed, dazed, dismayed, overwhelmed, shocked, staggered, startled, stunned, gob-smacked, bewildered, dumbfounded, flabbergasted, horrified, incredulous, surprised, taken aback 

Torment:

agony, anguish, hurt, misery, pain, punishment, suffering, afflict, angst, conflict, distress, grief, heartache, misfortune, nightmare, persecute, plague, sorrow, strife, tease, test, trial, tribulation, torture, turmoil, vex, woe

Touch:

(physical) - blow, brush, caress, collide, come together, contact, converge, crash, cuddle, embrace, feel, feel up, finger, fondle, frisk, glance, glide, graze, grope, handle, hit, hug, impact, join, junction, kiss, lick, line, manipulate, march, massage, meet, nudge, palm, partake, pat, paw, peck, pet, pinch, probe, push, reach, rub, scratch, skim, slide, smooth, strike, stroke, suck, sweep, tag, tap, taste, thumb, tickle, tip, touching, toy, bite, bump, burrow, buss, bury, circle, claw, clean, clutch, cover, creep, crush, cup, curl, delve, dig, drag, draw, ease, edge, fiddle with, flick, flit, fumble, grind, grip, grub, hold, huddle, knead, lap, lave, lay a hand on, maneuver, manhandle, mash, mold, muzzle, neck, nestle, nibble, nip, nuzzle, outline, play, polish, press, pull, rasp, ravish, ream, rim, run, scoop, scrabble, scrape, scrub, shave, shift, shunt, skate, slip, slither, smack, snake, snuggle, soothe, spank, splay, spread, squeeze, stretch, swipe, tangle, tease, thump, tongue, trace, trail, tunnel twiddle, twirl, twist, tug, work, wrap 

(mental) - communicate, examine, inspect, perception, scrutinize

Wet:

bathe, bleed, burst, cascade, course, cover, cream, damp, dampen, deluge, dip, douse, drench, dribble, drip, drizzle, drool, drop, drown, dunk, erupt, flood, flow, gush, immerse, issue, jet, leach, leak, moisten, ooze, overflow, permeate, plunge, pour, rain, rinse, run, salivate, saturate, secrete, seep, shower, shoot, slaver, slobber, slop, slosh, sluice, spill, soak, souse, spew, spit, splash, splatter, spout, spray, sprinkle, spurt, squirt, steep, stream, submerge, surge, swab, swamp, swill, swim, trickle, wash, water

Wicked:

abominable, amoral, atrocious, awful, base, barbarous, dangerous, debased, depraved, distressing, dreadful, evil, fearful, fiendish, fierce, foul, heartless, hazardous, heinous, immoral, indecent, intense, mean, nasty, naughty, nefarious, offensive, profane, scandalous, severe, shameful, shameless, sinful, terrible, unholy, vicious, vile, villainous, wayward, bad, criminal, cruel, deplorable, despicable, devious, ill-intentioned, impious, impish, iniquitous, irreverent, loathsome, Machiavellian, mad, malevolent, malicious, merciless, mischievous, monstrous, perverse, ruthless, spiteful, uncaring, unkind, unscrupulous, vindictive, virulent, wretched

Writhe: 

agonize, bend, jerk, recoil, lurch, plunge, slither, squirm, struggle, suffer, thrash, thresh, twist, wiggle, wriggle, angle, arc, bow, buck, coil, contort, convulse, curl, curve, fidget, fight, flex, go into spasm, grind, heave, jiggle, jolt, kick, rear, reel, ripple, resist, roll, lash, lash out, screw up, shake, shift, slide, spasm, stir, strain, stretch, surge, swell, swivel, thrust, turn violently, tussle, twitch, undulate, warp, worm, wrench, wrestle, yank 

Let's talk

Cw: Rap3, mention of SA

I'm just here to pop a little question..

Why are Rap3 and SA treated as kinks?

I follow this particular community on Reddit that only posts nsfw content and audios. I like it, there are always new audios and I've found some that I enjoy a lot but lately many audios with the tag "Rap3/Noncon/Forceful sex" in them have been reposted to the account, therefore ending in my main page.

One of the many rules in this community is that if one of your audios contain anything that can be considered "shocking", has to be labeled and put in the tags in big letters.

And that's perfect, that's okay.

But the amount of audios that use this "tag" and just overall the way this very sensitive topic is being used is too.. Disgusting, to say the least.

If you want to use it as a "Angst to comfort" kinda thing or just the mention of it, I believe that's ideal but the act of using SA as the thing we're supposed to "get off to" upsets me. I've never thought of jerking off to somebody getting their body autonomy taken from them and them pleading to not be touched as something arousing.

I'm definitely "kinkshaming" people that like noncon/coercion into sex

i wont try to change him, ill just fuck him

Who’s Your Friend? Pt 2

More Hobie x femMorales!reader and more protective Miles

This was really hard to write and I’m not sure how I feel about it, but I hope you guys enjoy it regardless.

Fluff, SFW, written with black!fem reader in mind, 2.1k words (😭)

The next time you see Hobie is at a party on the roof of your building. It was somebody’s birthday or promotion party, you didn’t know which and couldn’t find it in yourself to ask around and find out. If everyone started singing you’d just join in. The evening sun cast a lovely hue amongst everyone as the bass from Benny’s speaker reverberated through the air.

You’re pouring yourself another drink when your mother comes up next to you.

You smiled at her. “Hey, Mami, what’s up?”

She replied with a slight shake of her head as her eyes scanned the crowd. “Hi, baby. Have you seen your brother?”

Briefly, you thought back to the text Miles had sent you over twenty minutes ago, promising to be there soon. You had no idea what was keeping him but you could certainly think of a few things. Things that your parents definitely can’t know about.

So, you settled for, “No, I haven’t. But I’m sure he’ll be here soon.” She patted your arm in thanks before walking off, no doubt to ask others the same question.

As you watched her leave you pulled your phone out, ready to text Miles once more and find out where he was, but the sound of a door opening caught your attention. You turned and spotted your brother, along with three other familiar faces, stepping out onto the floor. Miles caught your eye and you let out a soft sigh of relief.

Miles moved to greet you, but Gwen and Pavitr beat him to it, practically rushing towards you. Eager words spilled from their lips as they came to a stop in front of you, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly.

“It’s nice to see you guys again too,” you said with a smile. They were still chattering away until Miles came forward, slipping in between the two of them.

“Hey, did mom and dad say anything yet?” He asked. You simply shrugged.

“Mom asked where you were not too long ago. Better go see her and let her know you’re here.

What took you so long anyways?”

Miles sighed heavily at the question as he shook his head. “Just some guys tryna rob a bank.” Then, more proudly he added, “I handled it though.”

Gwen cut in, letting out an amused scoff. “You handled it? If it weren’t for me and Hobie—“

Pav chimed in as well. “Don’t forget I’m the one who disarmed them all,” he boasted with a grin.

You rolled your eyes playfully as you watched him and his friends bicker. It made you happy to see him being just Miles for once. Not Spider-Man #2. But your stubborn, little brother.

Hobie, who had been quiet for the majority of the exchange, looked over at you. He moved from behind the others to stand next to you, one of his elbows nudging yours. Your eyes turned up and he smiled down at you, his piercing rising with the curve of his lips.

“Hey,” he said softly. You couldn’t help but smile right back, willing the butterflies in your stomach to calm down.

“Hi,” you replied, equally as soft. You couldn’t deny it, you were smitten. In the short time you had known him, he had left an impression that had left your heart reeling and your affection towards him bordering on puppy love.

You were so smitten, in fact, you had taken to pestering Miles about him.

Every time you asked how Hobie was doing, or when his friends were stopping by again, you were met with the same reaction.

An irritated glare or sigh, followed by your brother grounding out, “He’s fine,” or, “Why do you need to know?” You were genuinely curious, but at some point you also started asking just to see the looks on Miles’ face.

The same Miles who was suddenly grabbing Hobie by the arm and practically dragging him away. He sent a smug look your way while you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Gonna take these guys to meet mom and dad. Don’t worry, we’ll be right back,” he jeered.

Hobie simply looked amused as Miles tugged him away while Pavitr perked up.

“We finally get to meet your parents? Let’s go!” He beamed. Gwen, on the other hand, couldn’t look more uncomfortable with the idea if she tried.

You vaguely remembered your mother calling you about some “white girl your brother had brought home.” Though she told you the girl’s name was “Gwanda” you were beginning to figure that wasn’t the case.

Hobie looked back at you, giving you a small wave as Miles slipped behind him, resorting to pushing the taller boy.

“Walk,” you heard him grumble. You and Hobie both laughed at his antics, but you waved back all the same, watching him disappear into the crowd of people.

By the time Hobie had managed to sneak away from everyone the sky had dimmed, turning a darker shade of blue with every passing hour. Fortunately, the party was still in high spirits.

Which gave the two of you a good enough chance to head underneath the water tower on the far side of the roof.

Miles eyed the two of you from his spot near the tables, the plate of food in his hands forgotten. Pavitr and Gwen were talking about something, but they grew quiet at the lack of Miles’ input. They followed his line of sight and Pavitr let out an amused laugh which was enough to catch Miles’ attention.

“What?” He asked, brows furrowed.

“I should’ve known. Hobie was dying to see her again,” Pav admitted as Miles let out a shocked “what?”

Gwen smacked Pav’s shoulder, but even she was grinning. “I wouldn’t stress over it, Miles. At least they look cute together,” she added, a playful lilt to her voice.

Miles shook his head, setting his plate down as he waved a hand dismissively. “Okay, not having this conversation right now. Or ever.” He huffed, already wracking his brain at the thought of Hobie dying to see you again.

You carefully twirled Hobie’s watch in your hands, rubbing your thumb alongside it. He leaned casually against the railing beside you, back against it as he looked out across the ongoing party.

“So, this watch lets you go anywhere you want? Anywhere at all?” You asked, glancing up at him. He nodded, turning his gaze towards you.

“Yeah. Also helps stop that glitching mess.” At your look of confusion he added, “It’s what happens to our bodies whenever we’re in a dimension that isn’t ours. It sucks, by the way. I wouldn’t recommend it.”

You let out an amused huff, lips parting as you mumbled a quiet “ah.” You straightened up and handed the device back to him, your fingers brushing together gently.

He strapped it to his wrist, dark eyes sliding back over to you. He looked thoughtful for a moment, before his lips turned up into a small smirk. “Lets us go anywhere at any time too.”

You smiled, mirroring his stance as you leaned against the railing as well. You had a feeling where this was going, but you just wanted to make sure. “Any time, huh? So you just come and go whenever?”

“Oh, yeah. I get to do whatever I want. Go wherever I want.” He paused before saying, “See whoever I want.

You hummed, feeling your heart stutter from the way he was looking at you. “Now that sounds nice.”

Hobie’s grin only widened as he nodded with a slight shrug. He shifted a bit closer, almost imperceptibly so. “It’s real nice. All that matters is what you do with it.”

“So…if there was someone who wanted to keep seeing you,” you leaned in a bit closer as well, an invisible force practically pulling you towards him, “You could make it happen?”

Hobie nodded, eyes and smile softening. “All they’d have to do is say the word.”

Your own smile turned sheepish as you tapped your fingers nervously against your thigh. “Well…”

You stopped once you noticed Hobie’s back straighten, a crease forming in his brow as he leaned away suddenly. Not even a second later your mom was popping into view and you groaned, already having a bad feeling.

“Hi! Just wanted to come and see how things were going. Making sure you guys are all good up here,” your mother said warmly, swinging a leg over the railing. Your father was right behind her, grunting as he pulled himself upward. Hobie moved to stand on your other side, watching the scene play out almost amusedly.

“Mrs Morales,” he said coolly. His eyes turned to your father, who raised an expectant brow at the punk beside you once their eyes met.

Hobie’s jaw clenched, as if he was having some sort of internal battle with himself. After a moment of a stare down that felt far too tense, his eyes darted over to you briefly before he looked away and muttered out, “Mr. Morales,” almost begrudgingly so.

Your father let out a humph, bumping his shoulder against your moms. “Oh, look at that, hon, he got it right this time. But yeah we, uh, noticed you guys weren’t with the group so we wanted to see what that was all about.”

You reached out and gently grabbed Hobie’s arm, trying to ignore the lithe muscle you felt under your palm. “We were just about to head back down, actually.”

“Oh good. Good,” your father nodded while your mom let out an “ah,” her eyes darting down to where your hands held onto Hobie. “Well, don’t let us hold you up. Me and your mom might be turning in soon, anyways. Got a busy day tomorrow, y’know, being a cop and all,” he stated. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes while Hobie merely raised an unimpressed brow.

“Mhm. Got it,” you mumbled, already moving past him. You pretended not to see the humored look on your mother’s face as the two of you descended down from the water tower.

Once your feet touched the roof you led Hobie further into the crowd, throwing a glance behind you as you let out a sigh. Above you, you heard a low chuckle.

You couldn’t help but join him, lips parting into a grin. “Oh, you think that’s funny?”

He shrugged, eyes alight with mirth. “Little bit.” The two of you came up to the tables before stopping. You quickly remembered you were still holding to his arm and retracted your hands, settling for folding your arms over your chest.

Hobie tilted his head and eyed you as you tapped your fingers against your elbow. “I’m sorry about him. He can just be a little…overprotective. Even though I’m eighteen and, unlike Miles, actually an adult,” you muttered.

Hobie smirked and shook his head slightly. “It’s fine. It’s good they look out for you like that. But, listen, about earlier,” he paused, one of his hands coming up to scratch at the back of his neck. You realized it was your first time seeing him genuinely nervous, albeit just a little bit.

“It’s just…I wanna see you again. And, tell me if I got this wrong, you wanna see me again too.” At your small nod he continued. “Well, there’s a band I like playing a show soon in my dimension. Figured I could sneak us in the venue, we’d watch ‘em together? It’d be a loft view. Can’t get it nowhere else.”

You smiled, your brightest one of the night, as those butterflies in your gut came back at full force. You shrugged, pretending to consider it.

“I don’t know. A trip to a new dimension and…a date?” When Hobie matched your smile with one of his own you were sold. You had been from the beginning. “I think that sounds perfect.”

“Cool,” he uttered. “I’ll get you a day pass, you break the news to that brother of yours—”

“Oh, don’t remind me,” you groaned and he laughed, picking up a nearby drink.

“And I’ll pick you up when the time’s right,” he concluded. You dipped your head in agreement, already feeling anticipation building within you.

“I’d like that,” you affirmed softly. Hobie’s smirk disappeared behind the can as he rose it to his lips, but his eyes never left yours.

That was until Miles practically popped up between you two, his eyes bouncing back and forth. Pav and Gwen were right on his heels, seeming eager about something as they also eyed you both. He shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

“Hey, guys. Everything okay?” He asked, trying to appear nonchalant despite his wary tone.

Hobie nodded, his gaze falling back on you. His lips curled upward and you had to bite back a grin of your own.

“Yeah. Everything’s great, bro.”

Watch out!

— 42!Miles will have to watch his back.. Or his mom.

CW: 42!Miles and reader are in college together, old but not old enough reader, Hispanic reader, Milf Rio, Miles is Dominican coded, curse words.

Miles eyes you up and down, your form leaning on the kitchen counter as your eyes follow Rio's moves around the room. You don't even notice him, the sound your lips made and his mom's laugh not intercepting in his brain.

What the fuck are you doing here?

Sure he called you over to finish some project but that was supposed to be in 2 hours from now. Basically, you have no business here.

Making him more suspicious was that you almost rejected him, telling him something about having to get some college work done as soon as possible and you were going to show up late or not at all.

So, what were you doing here?

— Oh, you're back early. Bienvenido.

Rio welcomes Miles, her face visible over your shoulder as you turn your head to see him, you smile at him.

— Miles! We have to talk.

Miles raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue.

You move from the counter, pulling him to the living room so Rio wouldn't listen.

— What are you doing he-

— Why didn't you tell me you have a smoking hot sister? And she speaks Spanish? Hombre, también yo!

Your palms fall on his shoulders, braids twirling when you shake his body vigorously. The sparkle in your eyes almost make him vomit, he grabs your hands harshly, pushing them on your chest.

— What are you taking about, Mamaguebo? That's my mom.

He clenched his fists, clearly pissed.

— Word? That doesn't change much for me.

You don't even have time to react when his hands grab the collar of your shirt, cold and harsh tone whispering threats in your ear.

— Don't play with me, I swear-

— Miles!

Rio folds her arms infront of her, eyebrows furrowed when she spots both of you.

— Así es como atiendes a tus visitas? Y/N was so nice, waiting for you to come home and helping me around.

Miles makes a sound with his tongue, letting go your shirt slowly when his mom doesn't move.

— I made you coffee, Y/N. Let Miles refresh himself, tiene que estar agotado.

Miles is about to disrespect his mother again when you give him a smug smile and walk with little joyful jumps towards the kitchen counter, picking the steaming cup in your hands.

— No tardes mucho, si? Tu mami y yo te esperamos~

You say, sipping the hot liquid and a vein pops on his forehead when his mom nods and starts praising your Spanish, completely oblivious.

You look back at him when Rio disappears in the kitchen again, shit-eating grin on your lips.

— Don't look at me like that, are you not excited to have a step parent?

Oh, he was going to kill you.

kisses

Hobie brown x reader

You and your boyfriend love bothering Miguel, that's why you two always are making out infront of him.

a/n: a shorty drabble 'cuz hobie has me in a chokehold

"Miguel is so upset" you murmured in amusement to your lover, who had his arm around your waist as you two listened to Miguel "talk" to Miles. The boy had guts. You liked him and so did Hobbie.

Speaking of Hobie, as soon as Lyla began her explanation of the canonical events, your boyfriend began leaving wet kisses on your neck making you giggle.

"Hobie.. stop" you whispered but we both knew that meant "keep doing it", your boy smiled against your skin before placing his hand on your jaw and being able to join his lips against yours.

Being kissed by Hobie Brown was heavenly, your tongue touched his cold piercing making you shiver in his arms, you leaned your head to deepen the kiss and Hobie received your tongue gladly in his mouth.

As soon as Hobie started to almost eat your mouth you forgot where you were and with whom. However, when Hobie sucked on your tongue you couldn't help but moan, after that, their bubble burst.

" ay, no puede ser! Could you two not eat their faces to each other when I'm explaining something really important!.. It's rude" Miguel scolded you two, your cheeks heating up when Pav winked at you while Hobie just shrugged, wrapping his hand around your waist.

"Just pretend we're not here, mate" he murmured making you laugh.

A literal mess

— Miguel loses himself when he reaches his limits, you're just happy to be part of it to see it all go down

Tw: Sex with no plot, husband and wife relationship, she/her pronouns for reader, Miguel is whiny and talkative, grab your translators 'cause i speak spanish.

— Ah.. No puedo más, no puedo más~

The words slip out of his mouth before his brain even registers them, the only thing that seemed meditated was the rough tugging at your hips to keep you pressed against his crotch and the sloppy bucking of his hips.

His forearms and forehead pressed against the bed's headboard , aware enough of the sharp talons scratching the wood to contain himself from doing something stupid.

As careful and self aware he could be right now it was only a matter of time for his brain to turn into putty and forget all about him not being just a regular human, fucking into you like some needy animal.

Tongue lolling out, red eyes rolled back, his sweaty frame hovering over you completely, sharp fangs that itched to bite and keep you still, he was a complete mess.

But the hottest thing about him going pussy drunk, lost in pleasure was that he couldn't shut up.

Going from quiet moans and manly groans to a soft voice, sweet and whiny gasps and all that he felt like saying in his blissful state of mind.

He spoke Spanish regularly, at work, in the comfort of your house doing domestic chores and/or nothing but it became worse (better) when in bed.

— What's wrong, Papi? Cumming already?

You kept feeding onto it.

"What else can he say?"

"How far can it go?"

"How much can i ruin him?"

"Is it possible for him to get louder?"

He moans at the pet name, a hot shock climbing up his spine. He was going to regret the day he taught you those words. His thighs shake under yours, he was no longer pushing his cock into you, opting to calm down a few seconds, it was too early for him to cum, he was too sensitive.

— N- no morena, just catching my breath. Eso es todo...

— You sure? We can tap out, if you'd li-

His talons grip your body, one hand on your waist and the other around your ankle, slamming you fully on his dick. If the air hadn't been knocked out of your lungs, the most loud and meant-to-be-in-a-pornographic-film scream would have left your throat.

— Aquí... Me quiero quedar aquí, like this between your legs.

His hips stutter before moving again and he loses it, once again.

Your ears are filled with the mushy sound of his dick rearranging your insides and the loud, whiny praises that he sings with his head hidden in the space between your shoulder and neck. Miguel pushes his body upwards, changing the position and now your knees are centimeters away from touching your forehead.

—Ay, espérate Miguel-!

You whine and tap his thigh rapidly in protest but he's so lost your voice sounds distant. You give up, holding your thighs open and letting your knees rest next to your head.

His eyes are closed shut, the insatiable slamming of his hips against your ass was the only thing keeping him dozing out. He pants your name, exhausted but not giving in until you're ruining the bed sheets with your love juice.

— You're a mess, Migi~

You say but you're both panting, moaning and sweaty all over each other. He chuckles.

— Si? Qué más? Te gusta que me esté desmoronando así encima de ti? Eres una maldita pervertida, dime si me equivoco~

Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your pussy squeezes around his dick greedily and you hear him lose his breath.

— Pervertida? Yo? Look at you, Migi!

His thrusts become sloppier, fat cock twitching inside you and you squeeze his forearm that rests on the bed next to you.

— I'm not denying it, imposible que lo haga cuando se siente tan rico y mi esposa se ve... Tan bonita~

His left eye twitches and his nose scrunches when his balls start emptying in you, a loud round of Si, si, si and me vengo, Morena! leaving his lips.

He talks you through it, watching your face contour in pleasure and he feels like cumming for a second time when your gummy walls squeeze him so harshly and your pussy gushes all over him.

He pulls his dick out when it stops throbbing painfully and he goes back to his senses but all he has the energy for is to lay next to you and pull your body closer.

— I didn't hurt you, did I?

His eyebrows twitching when he asks, still not in full control of his body. You whine.

— Aww, is it over? No more spanish?

He laughs, pinching your hip lovingly and giving you a quick peck as he falls asleep.

— Vete a dormir, Mami.

Coño que bueno 😳😭💖

Can you write a college roommate head cannon for miguel O’Hara ( 18+ f!reader)

ik you asked for HCs but I have no self control... my bad, anon!

College Roommate!Miguel O'Hara Headcanons

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

pairing: College Roommate!Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

summary: Miguel is your roommate. And he’s hot. That’s it, that’s the tweet.

warnings: 18+ as fuuuck. F-receiving oral, using toys, masturbation, voyeurism (-ish), grinding, praise, service dom (idk?) Miguel, recreational drug use (reader and Miggy smoke a blunt). Minors DNI

a/n: I am a firm believer that modern day Miguel listens to 90s rnb, back when men were men: unabashedly, unashamedly down so fucking bad for their partners. he just gives me those vibes!!

wc: 6k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm thinking you become roommates but he's your last choice. 

Very last minute: you have a big falling out with your now ex-boyfriend, and the plans for flatsharing next semester goes right out the window. 

So all the good places are taken, and you're going apartment-hunting, but everywhere's either too expensive, too dirty, or there's a predatory clause hidden in the lease: shitty landlords and blaring red flags in 9pt Times New Roman. 

When you stumble upon Miguel O'Hara; a student in private accomodation who, lucky you, is in need of a roommate; it feels like a godsend.

Rent is affordable and he's nice enough; refusing to grunt more than a few words to you, but is clean, organised, and from what you can tell, is barely in the apartment. 

You sign onto the lease, desperately, hoping you've just been lucky and trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

You give a thousand mile stare at the blank document in front of you. A bullshit paper due in exactly 12 hours. Yes, you left it until the final stretch, and yes, it's 10k words. Very doable. You're not fucked. Nope.

You blame it on the banging from next door. Paper thin walls; obscene noises. Cries of Yes Miguel and Just like that, daddy have been plaguing you for almost an hour. His stamina must be superhuman, the way the woman in his bed has been howling. Howling may seem extreme, but she sounds like a dying cat: cock drunk and babbling over Miguel O'Hara? 

Your new roommate had been nice enough. Quiet, unassuming, and seemed more than absorbed in his schoolwork. So you didn't expect him to unashamedly fuck the girl he's been tutoring for the past week. It all clicks. The "perfect roommate" turned out to have one teeny tiny little flaw: loud, obnoxious sex, well into the early hours of the morning. 

On autopilot, you're clicking through tabs on your bed. Perhaps you're a prude, but the sex noises are abrasive, excessive, to the point of parody. Persistent, Miguel's low voice reverberates in the walls of your bedroom; making heat pool at the base of your stomach. 

"You want it, hermosa? Tell me…. such a pretty girl… like that?" It's muffled, but his voice is unmistakable. Low, greedy, heavy with want. God, the last time someone's spoken to you like that was… 

You shake your head free of cobwebs. No. You're not rewarding him. You can't . Your roommate is shameless, and inconsiderate, and really fucking annoying . 

The smacking noises increase, coupled with banging on his side of the wall. Resolute, your face hardens. From where you perch on your bed, you slam the wall with the side of your fist. 

"O'Hara! Keep it the fuck down!" 

~~~

He's a biochem major, up to his ass in assignments and he still has time for societies, internships and tutoring. 

The only times he'd be in the apartment really was an impromptu session, and you didn't notice at first, but it became more obvious as the semester went on.

As a so-called tutor, he only seemed to pick the prettiest girls - they would twirl their hair on your kitchen counter and bat their pretty lashes at him when they didn't understand. Favours for a couple of friends, is his only response when you ask. 

It felt like you'd open the door to a new girl every week and you are baffled. Donned in makeup and short skirts, they'd waddle in asking for Miggy, or drop off half-finished assignments whilst craning their head through, trying to catch a glimpse of him. 

The absurdity would make you laugh if it wasn't affecting your sleep. 

Not that he's not absolutely gorgeous, but he's so quiet you would never have thought he had it in him: to have a revolving door of women lining up to lay underneath him. 

This time, her name is Sarah: pretty little thing in Miguel's Advanced Math class.  She perches on a stool, wearing a tight dress that is wholly not appropriate for a tutoring session. She's one of his regulars, if you can call it that, and has been failing for at least 2 semesters. You flash her a smile as you pad through the kitchen, searching the cupboards for a snack. God, she is gorgeous; dolled up for another long session with Miguel, no doubt.

"Where's he gone?" She asks politely. 

You shrug. "I couldn't tell you, sorry."

"It's okay… I'm just a bit stuck." You almost snort and catch yourself. For some reason, you didn't think they actually did any work, merely a pretense for the… cardio later on in the day. 

You glance at her sheet of paper, scribbles in purple pen with large swathes crossed out. Leaning over, you scan the page.

"Right here." You point and she follows with a manicured finger. "You fucked up with this integral and I think… yeah, I think that messes with the whole thing."

Her eyes light up as she follows you, explaining with a piece of cookie hanging out of your mouth. She's definitely smart, just a few little mistakes here and there that you're happy to point out. Thanking you fervently, she rushes to correct it. 

"Ah, it's no problem. I get mixed up with it too." You smile and notice Miguel by the doorway, watching with a strange look in his face. You roll your eyes as you walk past. What a fucking weirdo. 

"Thought I was the tutor?" He croons.

You raise an eyebrow, voice low as Sarah is engrossed in her work. "...I don't want to fuck her, Miggy , if that's what you're worried about."

A little cruelly you push past him, shoulders clashing against one another. Is he smiling ? For now, you blame your perpetual tiredness when you think you catch the hint of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

~~~

You're a light sleeper, and it all makes for a tired, delirious combo. You sleepwalk through the day, scramble to finish assignments and whilst it's not all O'Hara's fault, you can't help but blame him for a lot of it. 

After you successfully get through one long week, you decide to celebrate. That means a couple hours of mindless hedonism: your favourite movie, greasy food…. and your trusty dildo. Not at the same time, of course. 

Miguel's not home, and he's not tearing down the walls with some other girl, for once, so you decide to treat yourself. 

You've been going through a dry patch, and you'd hate to admit it, but he does sound good through the thin drywall. 

It was a joke gift; given to you by a friend for your birthday. An obnoxiously purple dildo with a suction cup at its base. Aptly named Hugh, due to its - ahem - large stature. Standing tall at 7 or 8 inches, far bigger or thicker than any partner you've taken in the past. Sitting around a small diner booth with your friends and opening the bag to reveal him, had been quite the experience, for sure. 

It wasn't your fault you had gone through a dry spell in the past few months. With work, with school, with relationship issues, you hadn't had the time or energy to sleep around. Not that you were desperate for drunk, lackluster sex, followed by an awkward dance of ubers and shitty coffee in the morning. Like many, you preferred to do it yourself. 

Laptop open, you ease yourself onto the toy, already slick with lube. Prepping yourself with your fingers had been quite the task, tabs open to something on a lewd website. It's cheesy, but you didn't really like the bright lights and plastic of usual porn. The moans felt too fake, the sex devoid of any real passion. So you found a couple of independent creators; couples, mostly; carnal fucking with fervour only borne from real love . It's embarrassing to admit it, but your favourite parts are the little kisses and touches in between, or light laughter after a rough session. As if to say: it's okay and I'm still here. 

On your screen now is a longtime favourite video, a broad man bullying his fat cock into his partner. You can't help but think he looks like Miguel, not as pretty but tan with strapping shoulders, and large hands that wrap around the neck of the girl in the video. 

" F-Fuck," You breathe, sinking down onto your toy. You bet Miguel's palm on your throat would be deliciously rough, and you imagine how he'd fuck the brat out of you like the man on your screen. 

What hadn't occurred to you, however, was that the thin walls went both ways. Whilst you were quieter than many of the girls Miguel brought home, you were fairly shameless with the moans and curses that fell from your lips. Headphones on, you were blissfully unaware that Miguel had slipped into the apartment some time ago. The slap of your thighs to the floor, the desperate whine as you roll your hips over the toy - he can hear it all. 

Miguel has a conscience, so he does feel some amount of shame when he slips a hand down his trousers and presses an ear to your shared wall. He closes his eyes and bites down lusty groans, fisting his cock to your pretty noises. Noises he's been wanting to hear from you for months, now, imagining it was you underneath him instead of his usual partners. 

He times it just right, squeezing around his tip in time with the steady slap just beyond the wall. Are you fucking yourself? On your knees, hands flat on the floor, churning up your insides with a toy… or maybe ass up, dildo attached to something…? He almost cums with that mental image, wondering what you'd look like on your knees for him. Is the dildo as big as him? He knows you, knows you'd want it to hurt - for his cock to stretch out your pretty pussy when he cums deep inside you. 

All things he thinks about with a hand around his cock, and he's already close. But he wants to cum with you, listening intently for the signs. 

" Fuck," Your voice comes out muffled, but it makes him buck up into his fist all the same. " Need it… oh God, I-" 

He speeds up, wondering what it would be like to have your thighs shake underneath him, what it would take to have you babbling and begging for more. How would he break you? Maybe on his cock, where he'd watch you squirm as you take his length. Or on your knees, choking around him and licking up his cum. Or, God, thighs wrapped around his head, riding out your high with his mouth sealed on your clit, crying for him slow down, for him to-

" H-Harder, Miguel, please." 

He releases, sudden and intense, spilling white ropes into his boxers. 

" Fuck, Miguel…"

He fucks his fist through it, overstimulated from the way you say his name. It feels like the only way it should be said; spilling from your mouth, haphazard and desperate. Like honey, like treacle; sweet things he didn't know he had the capacity for. He lets that feeling wash over him, panting, bringing his forehead to rest on cool wall. 

~~~

He's hot. He's smart. He's a whore.

A total blindspot for you, and no matter how much you can't stand him; you still find yourself stealing glances whenever he's home. 

And he does seem to be home a lot more, often choosing to study on the dining table rather than his room. It's like he does it on purpose, using the warmer weather as an excuse to wear tiny tank tops and loose gray sweats - showing off the muscles of his broad back and arms perfectly.

Funnily enough, when he's not around those girls, he's bearable - seems to have grown a couple of brain cells in those short few days between sessions. 

You laugh and joke, sometimes, and he surprises you by suggesting a movie one quiet night. 

He offers you his sweater to snuggle into, you eat your weight in greasy takeout, and your roommate seems like an actually decent guy?? 

You had fallen into an easy routine: O'Hara leaves a flask of coffee for you to snatch up in the morning, hair damp from the shower and all, and you meet him with netflix and instant noodles in the evening. A push and pull that works in the little space - much smoother than your rocky beginnings.

After a truly shitty day, you come home to a quiet apartment. Almost sleeping through an exam, forgetting lunch, missing the bus home, and having to trek back through pouring rain in a thin coat. Everything that could go wrong, did, and you are left with the pieces. You trudge through the living room into the kitchen, the wet squelch of socks on laminate floor haunting every step. Shedding your limp outerwear, you lay the contents of your backpack onto the kitchen counter: clumps of loose paper, the damp leftovers of a textbook, bleeding ink. Your main concern, however, is your laptop slick with rain water. 

With baited breath, you put it on the slab, and press the power button. A click, a stuttering whir, and the screen flickers on. Then, just as strained, it putters off. Dead. Completely dead. Your legs almost give out, and you lean on the counter to steady yourself. Half of your life was there; including the final project that would make up a good chunk of your grade. It takes you everything not to collapse onto the floor right then and there. 

"How was it?" You hear the click of a door and Miguel calls out from the hallway. 

You wince."...F-Fine?" 

You hear footsteps, as he gets closer. "Are you asking or telling me?" 

You clear your throat, desperately trying to keep your voice steady. "Fine. It was fine. I'm just… it was fine."

Back still turned, you fumble around with the wet contents of your bag, hoping he doesn't notice. 

"Long day?" He says warmly, head poking into the kitchen. Haphazardly, you spare him a glance from behind your shoulder. He's dressed in a sweater that fits snug around his chest, rolled up to expose his forearms, and loose sweats. In his hands, he drinks from a cheesy mug - your mug, donning a stupid pun. He looks warm. Cosy. Domestic. For some, reason it makes your heart sink even further. 

Long day? "Something like that." You manage to squeeze out. There's a pregnant pause as he comes closer. Rummaging blindly through a cupboard, you try to hide behind its door. If he sees you like this, now, you don't know if you'll be able to hold it together. 

You close the door, and all of a sudden he's there, mug in hand. 

" Fuck, man- " It makes you jump, as he squints and takes a sip of his coffee. 

"You look… wet." 

"That's because it rained, Miguel." Snapping at him, your tone is biting. You're tired, stressed and in desperate need of a cry, but he is unrelenting in his gaze. 

"Are you ok?" He asks, unfazed. 

There's a lump in your throat and all you can do is nod with a tight expression.  His eyes flicker towards the counter and you shuffle, trying to cover up the mess. And then you watch it happen; initial confusion, a flash of realisation, and then worry; all in the space of a couple seconds. 

Gently, he pulls you aside to inspect the damage. "Mierda. This is pretty bad. You sure you're ok?" 

He's got a hand on your arm now,  The dam breaks and you crumple into tears in the kitchen floor. Of course, he comes with you, rubbing your back as you blubber through the details. 

" Nothing's going right for me… and I've got my final project on there… I'm barely keeping up as it is…" All he does is nod, face tight with something you can't quite name. It must seem pathetic to him, you think, shamelessly crying on the kitchen floor, complaining to your poor roommate. He can't leave you like this, because he's a decent person - but internally, he must think you're going crazy. 

It helps, having him there: a steady presence by your side. Slowly but surely, your tears subside. 

"You could've asked me to pick you up." He hands you some tissues off the counter, and watches as you mop up the tears. "I would've come, if you called."

"I didn't… I didn't think we were…" You search for the right word. 

"...friends?" He offers, with a small smile. "You think I let just anyone steal my sweaters?" 

"First of all," It makes you laugh, despite yourself. "You offered. And second, I've seen what you do with your friends, and I don't know if I have the energy for it."

"Ouch." Bashful, he rubs his chest like it aches. He sits a little close to you, knocking your shoulders with his own. "I know this girl who's crazy good with computers. I could ask her to take a look, if you'd like? Might not be able to save it but maybe we could recover the files?"

"...I'd like that, to be honest."

"Muy bien ." He leaps to his feet, palm stretched towards you to help you up. "I'll run you a warm bath or something. You're creating a puddle and it's going to ruin my floor."

"Our floor, asshole. I pay rent here, too." 

~~~

You find that you enjoy being around him, and he feels the same. 

You can't help but compare him to your shitty ex who you were planning to move in with: and even with his quirks, Miguel is better in every way. 

There is harmony in your household, for a while, and you almost look forward to coming home to him after class. Almost. 

It doesn't last long, because of course it doesn't. You'd thought you'd come to a tentative ceasefire, able to casually rib and joke with each other - takeout and B-roll movies aside. He leaves you leftovers from food he makes, you turn down your music when he's studying, and he even woke you up the other day when you had slept through your alarm.

Beyond the wall, his music is loud: a playlist you recognise as the one he puts on to (unsuccessfully) mask the noise of his usual late night adventures. Cheesy love ballads, heady RnB that leaks into your own room. You'd rather die than admit his taste in music isn't horrible, but it usually means a long, long night for everyone around. With finals around the corner, there's no way you can let this stand. 

What kind of person does that? Lull you into a false sense of security with Snakes on a Plane and pepperoni pizza? 

Absorbed in your own work, you hadn't even realised he had someone over; let alone was gearing up for obnoxious sex. You'd bang on the wall, but you feel like you guys are past that: crossed a threshold of intimacy that means you can shout at him up close and personal. 

So you stomp over to the hallway, banging at the door to his room. In the short trip there, you've worked yourself into a frenzy. How many times have you told him to keep it down? That it was rude and inconsiderate to flaunt his sex life in your face; to fuck other women so loud you were practically involved? There was something about the little smile he would give you afterwards, when you catch him shepherding his latest out the door in the morning - like he gets off on it, enjoys it, when you react. Even when you think you're over it, he still manages to drive you absolutely crazy. 

“Miguel? Open the fuck up!"

You're still fuming when the door opens with a click, and Miguel appears in the sliver of the doorway. He opens it so that his frame is half swallowed by the door, top half peeking through with a lazy hand in his hair. And of his top half, he's bare from the waist up, black band of his boxers sitting low on his v-line and loose sweats. 

All the wind is knocked from your sails, and you lose your train of thought. 

"Yeah?" 

"I…" You clear your throat. "I don't care who you fuck, but when I'm doing work-" 

"-I'm not." He chuckles. "There's no one here, hermosa. Just me. And you, I guess…"

There's something about the way he says it, lazily, as if it's his first time saying those words - wrapping his tongue around your name to see how it fits. If it fits, how it tastes. His relaxed posture, the way his hair falls…

"You're high." Your brow shoots up. "... you're high!" 

With a finger pressed to his lips, he grabs your hand and pulls you into his room, eyes darting around the hallway. 

"Shhh! You can't-" Now, he gets close, whispering like he's saying something he shouldn't. "You can't tell anyone. "

"I won't." You breathe. His face is serious at first, and then you're both giggling. You've never seen him so carefree, and it's nice to see Miguel walking around without the weight of the world on his shoulders.

He's still holding your hand, pressed close, and you see him drag his eyes up and down your figure. "You want do something you'll regret…?"

"...I've got a 9am, tomorrow, I really-" 

"-shouldn't?" He finishes, dragging his hand up your bare arm, pupils blown. He gets up to your shoulders, tucking your hair behind your ear. It's sinful, the way his touch is gentle but gaze heavy - violent in the way he practically eyefucks you. You feel bare, in little sleep shorts and a t-shirt.

He steps back, lounging on his bed, and makes for a half finished blunt by the adjacent window sill. Sighing, you sit by him, sinking into the mattress. He pats you closer, dangerously close, and you comply. One arm curled by your waist, the other brings the blunt up close and you wrap your lips around it. When Miguel brings a lighter to the blunt, you lean into it, knuckles brushing your lips. 

You take a drag, long, heavy, eyes closed. And when they open, you're met with his own. Maybe it's the weed, maybe it's the heady atmosphere, but you swear his eyes are low and deep with lust.

"Good girl." He rumbles, cupping your chin and tracing a thumb to your lips. He separates, bringin the blunt to his own lips before leaning back to pass it to you. As quick as he gets close, he pulls away; leaning back into the expanse of his large bed. And he looks good, head drawn back and the curve of his tan arm drawn upwards. Tufts of hair from his chest, the trail that leads down suggestively - and without inhibition, you basically drool over him. God, there it is. You feel it kick in and let it wash over you. 

His music, long forgotten, blends into your downy haze. You want to sit in his lap, rest your head on his chest. You get it now: if this is the view all those women he tutors get to have, then you finally understand. 

"Come closer, hermosa ." You barely register the nickname, only focused on the way he says it, the delicious way it rolls off of his tongue. You nod, and shuffle closer. His siren song sounds sweeter, somehow, up close. 

You pass the blunt between you both, and watch it dwindle to the last dregs. Lying down next to him, he clutches your hand and takes the butt between his fingers, letting its flames die as you watch. You giggle and his gaze softens.

"I didn't expect this from you." You look up to see an upside-down Miguel, hiding a smile. 

"Expect what?" He drags himself downwards, to rest his head by your side. 

"All…" You gesture vaguely. "This. Don't even think I've been in your room for this long, before."

His room looks exactly how you'd expect it: tidy and modest, a row of trophies neatly lined up on a shelf, a telescope pointing out towards a window. There are posters by his bed; science related, mostly. You tilt your head in the direction of one of them.

"Is this what they see?" You mumble to no one in particular. 

He manages to catch it, sluggish in his response. "...Is this what who sees?" 

"All the girls you fuck." It tumbles your of your mouth, before you can help it. 

He tilts his head too, looking at the poster and you watch the sharp lines of his jaw besides you. Even at this angle, he's so pretty. 

"Huh. I guess they do." 

"It's not very romantic, is it?" You blink, oblivious. Your question is met with a noncommittal shrug. "What was her name last time? Cassie, Clara-something…"

"Katie." He hums. 

"Katie." Ignoring the twinge of disappointment at his quick response, you hope it's the weed and not jealousy that made you pretend to forget her name. 

You sit up on your haunches, tracing the valleys and mountains of his bare chest with a leisurely finger. You try not to notice the way he shivers at your touch. 

"I could hear everything. Every, 'Yes daddy'," You feign a moan by curling your lips into an O-shape. You bring your other hand to your hair, head tilted back with exaggerated movement. "And 'right there, Miggy, right fuckin' there' ." 

Technically, you're making fun of him and laughing, expecting him to follow. But he doesn't, head back and eyes boring into you - only bringing a hand to press yours at his chest. 

"Thin walls, Miguel." You clear your throat, sensing a shift in the atmosphere. Too far, probably. "Sorry, shit. I didn't mean-" 

"I hear you too." He says softly. "I heard you, the other day."

Head filled with cotton, it takes a moment for his words to really click. So he elaborates, lacing his fingers with your own. 

"Fucking yourself, hermosa ." He says it lazily, like the vulgarity of the act doesn't register.

Your eyes widen in horror. How much exactly did he hear?

"...and I heard you say my name." 

"It was…. i-it wasn't like that-" Fuck. You can't think straight as it is: and his voice is low and silky, rubbing circles on your hand close to his chest. Even now, he oozes confidence, the steady thump-thump of his heart giving away nothing. 

"Hmmm? Then what is it like?" You blink at him, unable to answer. "You're a hypocrite. You complain about all these women I supposedly fuck, but then-" 

He pulls you closer, so that your lips almost touch his. "-you lock yourself in your room, touching yourself and thinking about your poor roommate. What am I meant to do with you?"

A pause, and in your daze, you can't breathe. For all your theatrics, it's too easy for him - to prod and tease, and for you to chase after him. You move to kiss him, but he grabs your chin at the last second. "Not quite. I want to hear you say it."

"Fuck- " You crumple, hiding your head in the crook of his shoulder. Even in your haze, the nerves bubble up from the base of your stomach. "Fuck me, please , Miguel."

He places a hand on your thigh, leading you to straddle his middle, other hand wrapped around your waist. He grinds your lower half into his, leaning up to bring your lips together. 

He tastes sweet, greedily lapping up your moans in the clash. You're not thinking, not really, lost in the heat of his body, desperate and eager when you kiss. To contrast, Miguel cups your chin, pulling you away for air whenever you sink too deep. Somehow, he still manages to look smug, taunting you with a flash of his little fangs whenever you separate. If you weren't feeling the effects of that blunt, you may have had the means to be embarrassed at how much you want him - needily grinding against him and pawing at his chest. 

It's too slow, too leisurely, like a punishment; and he refuses to give you what he knows you want. Your whines betray you when he finally slips a hand down your shorts. 

"¿Paciencia, hmm?" He grabs a handful of your ass, clothed cock catching on your clit. It rips another moan from you, which he happily swallows with another kiss. "Patience, princesa."

You hump against one another like teenagers, your hands planted by his head for purchase. Hips moving of their own accord, you chase the relief Miguel provides: with his hands kneading your ass, length catching at your clit, and teeth nipping at your bare neck. 

He licks a stripe up your collarbone, soothing the blossoming hickeys with a hum. 

Fuck, how can he be so casual ? You don't know if it's the weed or something else, but he is in his element, hand dipping down your back to graze at your pussy from behind. He hisses when he realises how wet you are, swiping his fingers down your slit and taking them out to pop them in his mouth. 

Now, flushed and face hot with embarrassment, you look up at him with big doe eyes. It makes Miguel feel guilty for stopping you so close to your climax. Beautiful : lower lip hooked under your teeth, plump and swollen and kissable. He'll make up for it later: a promise he whispers into skin. 

"You're soaked." He cups your cheek to press a kiss to your forehead, and all you can do is whine. His gaze dips down, to the swell of your tits in that thin shirt.. 

"What did you think about when you touched yourself?" It's soft, said in the warm press of your bodies; hook-shaped and hazy and you fit like you were made for one another. The thought lingers, plants a dangerous seed that makes you forget that the man underneath you is your roommate : unrepentant whore, Miguel O'Hara. 

"You." You've seen it first hand, he eats hearts for breakfast; and yours is on a platter for him to devour.

He laughs, deep and rumbling, hands resting on your waist. "I know that, baby. You don't have fantasies? Fuck yourself to the thought of someone touchin' you just right?"

Not just someone, him, you think. Your voice dies in your throat at the way he looks at you. "Just… n-nothing really-"

He hums, grinding your hips onto his. "Speechless, I can't believe it. Is this what I need to do to get some fucking peace around here?" 

You roll your eyes, "Don't be a dick, Miguel. When I shout, it's because you deserve it."

"...there it is." Eyes shining, his face stretches into a shit-eating grin. Wide, unabashed, unambiguous. "You back with the living, sweetheart?" 

It makes you laugh, even though you hate to give him the satisfaction. 

"What do you want?" He kneads your thigh and pleasure pools at the base of your stomach. 

You mumble something begrudgingly.

"Hmm? Can't hear you, baby."

Louder, now. "...want to sit on your face, Miguel." 

Lowly, he groans, shaking his head. "Mierda… of course you do."

Expertly, he helps you take your shorts off, dragging the thin material down your thighs. You clambers upwards, wrapping them around his shoulders, watching intently as he kneads the soft skin. It's tentative, at first, and you place your hands on the headboard to perch just above his mouth. 

He licks, diving in with the flat of his tongue: a long upwards stroke that ends with him sucking your clit. Moaning, your hips jump and he chases your pretty pussy up, large palms pushing you back down. He concentrates on your bundle of nerves, lips around your clit like a man on a mission.

And, God, does it feel good; he watches and learns from your every movement, committing your body to memory. His moans vibrate deliciously, tension building at that spot faster than your mind can register it. Then, you clench around nothing, gushing into his mouth whilst he eases you through it. The noises he makes are obscene; one leg off the bed and a hand snaked under his boxers. He's getting off on it; watching you crumple and sob around his tongue. 

And when you begin to move off, thighs sore, he doesn't relent, sealing his mouth on your pretty little hole. 

"Miguel.. fuck-" After your first orgasm, it surprises you when he continues, tongue fucking you with fervour. He presses you close, impossibly close, and your body fights against his ministrations. Heat, everywhere, and it's too much. The haze of the blunt begins to wear off and you are left with biting clarity. You want more of him, deeper; drunk off of just his tongue. 

You card your hands in his hair, and he moans: deep and wanton, with his eyes fluttering shut. He wants to look, to watch you when you cum on his tongue for a second time. Back arched, the curve of your tits peeking through a tiny top, fucking yourself on his face. He wants it hard , wants you to take control and use him to get off. 

"Right there, fuck… "

Like you can hear his thoughts, you press yourself down harder, riding the deep ridge of his nose for relief. Miguel complies and leans into it. He eats you out like a man starved and the carnality of it all brings you to a second peak. You cum once again, legs wrapped tight around his face. Head back, he laps it up readily. 

You separate with a wet pop, and Miguel looks blissful : fucked out and panting, wiping the slick off of his face with a forearm. Exhausted, you lean back onto the mattress beside him. 

"That was…" He searches for the right word, and it's your turn to finish for him. 

"... good. " Scarily good. So good you won't be able to see him around the apartment without remembering what he looks like trapped between your thighs. 

Gently, he turns to cup your cheek and bring your lips to his. It starts off sweet and deepens rapidly, making that thread at the pit of your stomach tighten, again. He grabs your thigh, bringing it closer, and you feel his length poking your stomach. Fuck. 

"You haven't…?" Your hand makes for his trousers, and he stops you. "I want to, Miguel. Want you to feel good too."

His head sinks into your shoulder. "I know, baby, I know. Not like this. Not yet."

You nod, still wrapped up in his arms. You haven't even fucked, and it feels more intimate than it should. 

"You've got a 9am tomorrow." He smiles with a hand underneath his head. 

"I've got a 9am tomorrow," You repeat, sighing. "...and my life is falling apart. I'm failing half of my classes as it is."

He turns to you, lazily. 

"I could tutor you, if you'd like."

…

"That's not fucking funny, Miguel."

_

_

_

Miguel taglist: @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns @ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings

making out with hobie brown

warnings: just a tiny bit suggestive, reader's gender is not specified.

hobie brown (spider-punk) x reader

that's just his favorite activity to pass the time when you two are chilling.

after a show, after a shower, after a spider mission. any time you're within his reach, really.

you are cuddled up to hobie on his bed, listening to music and distractedly playing with the bracelets on his wrist. your eyes move from the various posters on the walls to hobie's closed eyes, his breathing calm and controlled.

the arm that was holding you tightens around your waist, feeling your gaze on him.

"do you enjoy admiring me, love?" hobie says with a tinge of humor in his voice and opens his eyes slowly, scanning your flustered face. you smile, nodding your head that was resting on his chest.

"give me a kiss to prove it then." hobie lets his teeth show in an amused smile, his plump lips pouting until you come closer.

your lips hovered over his, touching lightly without any real contact. you always did this until hobie got impatient and put his hand on the nape of your neck, the icy chill of the rings bringing goosebumps to your skin.

at first, it's always a tender kiss, enjoying the sensation of your lips on his. his lip piercing presses against your skin in a pleasurable way, the short nails marking you enough to make you reciprocate by holding hobie's arm.

one peck turns into several, his mouth leaving yours to kiss your cheeks and behind your ears in light smacks, the hand on your nape going to your neck in a natural transition.

his lips meet yours again, and the hand that was on your waist manhandles you until you are sitting on his lap. your hands take place on his chest to seek balance as his tongue seeks yours, a sigh leaving hobie's lips as you reciprocate, moving your mouth in a lazy rhythm.

the fingers on your neck apply pressure as the kiss quickens, you whine and press your body into his, hobie could feel you warm on top of him.

hobie moves to your thighs, feeling and squeezing where he can, wet noises mix with the background music and your head starts to spin with the sensations. you have to grab hobie's shirt under your fingers so you don't get lost.

you break the kiss for a few seconds to recover, hobie's eyes immediately meet yours in a reaction you already know, he wanted to know if everything was okay. you run your tongue over your lips to clean the trace of saliva that kept the two of you connected, smiling.

"didn't you say it was just one kiss?" a breathless giggle leaves your lips, he laughs with you and kisses your cheek, stroking your knee teasingly.

"what do you mean, baby? we're not doing anything, I haven't even kissed you yet." he joked, stealing another kiss from you, not resisting your flushed face and swollen lips.

"oh, really? you haven't even touched me, have you?" you played along. hobie moves his hand down from your neck and caresses your back, playing with the piercing in his lip with his teeth.

"of course not," he whispers, his smile fading only to reattach his lips to yours.

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader

Summary: Everyone at HQ was convinced there was something going on between you and Miguel. Just...no one knew what. But one group of spiders were determined to figure it out.

Warnings: None! Just a lot of goofiness and a whole lot of fluff :3

When you have a superhuman with superior senses, they’re bound to be perceptive to their surroundings. Now when you have an entire lobby the size of multiple football fields filled with superhumans with superior senses, very few things will go unnoticed.

It’s why people very quickly realize that you and Miguel have…something between the two of you. It’s just that no one is quite sure what.

Camaraderie? Maybe, you were one of the first spiders to join the society.

Friendship? Perhaps, but it was known that Miguel wasn’t one to do friends. Not with the amount of loss he has gone through.

A relationship? This one seemed the most unplausible. Miguel was, well, Miguel. Stoick, cold and calculating. Meanwhile, you were you.

You had a light that drew people in, kindness that knew no bounds and warmth like a fire on a cold winter’s day.

Everyone knew the saying ‘opposites attract’, but it was like comparing night and day with the two of you. Regardless, a small little group within the society were set on trying to figure the two of you out.

~

“Ain’t no way the two are together, she’s too good for him!” Hobie argues, his legs kicked up on the table in front of him.

“I don’t know, maybe that’s why they work together. Because she makes him better?” Miles says, but his tone of voice failed to hide his skepticism.

“I think you should just leave the two of them be. Besides, what happens if you figure it out or not anyway?” Peter says, feeding Mayday as he does. Immediately a chorus of arguments breaks out from the group.

“OKAY! Okay, forget I asked,” he says with a shake of his head, while Mayday just laughs at the commotion.

They spot the two of you walking into the cafeteria making conversation none of them could make out.

“Look at them,” Gwen says, “have you ever seen the guy happier than he is with her?” she asks, and Hobie snorts.

“C’mon mate, you call that happy? Mans got that frown tattooed on his face, can he even be happy?” he says, but they all continue watching intently.

You glance over to the table they were surrounding, and they all brush off your gaze pretending as though they weren’t just studying the two of you like specimens under a microscope.

You wave your hand, a bright smile on your face while Miguel only glances over for a moment before continuing to walk. You jog to catch up to him, grabbing a tray and picking up things you wanted for lunch.

They watch as they see Miguel pick up the empanada, the last one left. He pauses for a split second, holding it before turning to place it on your tray. Almost as though they were straight out of a cartoon, they freeze at the interaction.

You seem to be slightly surprised as you, saying something to him but he only brushes you off before continuing on.

“Did…that just happen?” Pavitr asks. Everyone at HQ was aware of Miguel’s fondness for the food (even if he did hurl one right at Miles when they first met), there was no way he would give one away so easily for just anyone, right?

“Somebody pinch me,” Gwen says, and Hobie jumps at the request.

“OW!”

~

Miguel never lets anyone help him out when he’s injured. That was just a known fact. He could walk into HQ battered and bruised and wouldn’t even look in the infirmary’s direction once. After depending on himself for so long, he wasn’t going to stop now. Besides, what were First Aid kits for after all?

The only way he was going to the infirmary was if someone dragged his unconscious body there themselves.

Well, unless you were there.

“Miguel O’Hara I swear to god, you better get your ass to the infirmary or so help me I will tie you up and drag you through the halls myself,” you say sternly as you both reemerge in the Lobby. The rest of the Spiders there continued with what they were doing, but their attention was zeroed in on you both.

“I’m fine,” he says, glaring at you as if trying to say ‘Just try’. Had you been anyone else, you would have backed down by now but you didn’t.

“You wanna test me right now? That was a nasty hit, I will not be letting it get infected under my watch,” you retort, and he puffs.

“This is nothing, I’ve dealt with worse,” he scoffs, and in an instant your finger shoots out, making contact with the side that got hit with the anomaly’s flames. Miguel can’t help the sharp intake of breath as the pain from the impact hits him.

Your eyebrow raises, an expression of disbelief on your face before it softens. Murmuring softly, you say something that only he can hear.

For a moment he studies your face before sighing, finally relenting. With a triumphant smile, you place a hand on the man’s broad back, leading him towards the infirmary with a gentle but firm hand.

There, Pavitr is laying in bed recovering from an awry mission of his own. The doctors had ordered bedrest for the next 2 hours at least. Superior healing or not, they were not going to risk it. So there he lay, slinging his golden bangles up and down bored before he hears the two of you come in.

“Mr. O’Hara-" a doctor’s voice can be heard, but he is quickly interrupted.

“She’s got it from here,” he says, Miguel’s tone final. A small “yes, sir” can be heard before footsteps fade away, the doctor’s office door closing once more.

“You know, you should really let the professionals help you,” your voice can be heard.

“You dragged me here, you can deal with the consequences,” he says, and you just laugh fondly before your voices quieten, murmuring too quietly for Pavitr to hear.

Curiosity builds as he recalls the conversation he and his friends had, and before he can stop himself he shifts silently to the side, just enough to be able to catch a glimpse of you both from the small gap between the hospital curtain and the wall.

There, Miguel sat on the bed, a disgruntled expression on his face but his eyes were soft as he watched you fuss over his side.

He only watches for a few seconds before pulling away, this being a clear invasion of privacy, and his boss’ privacy no less.

It wasn’t going to stop him from telling everyone else though.

~

“This is a bad idea. This is a really, really bad idea,” Miles says, grasping onto the ceiling like his life depended on it.

“It’s only a bad idea if we get caught, so Shut. Up,” Gwen says sharply, hanging from her place on the ceiling as they watched the fight from above.

Gwen had come up with the mighty fine idea of sneaking into a mission between the two of you. It wasn’t often that it happened, Miguel more often than not only went on missions with only Lyla by his side. But when he needed a partner, it was always you.

“Why did you have to bring me with you,” he whispers, “Miguel already doesn’t like me. He doesn’t need more of a reason to.”

“Because I needed backup and you can turn invisible. And let’s be real, Hobie would be laughing his ass off getting us caught, Peter would bring Mayday which would get us caught, and Pavitr is already on a mission, now shhh,” she whispers, turning back to watching the scene below.

You swung from pillar to pillar in the abandoned factory with practiced ease, a carefree laugh escaping your lips as Miguel stands on the ground fiddling with his watch.

“The anomaly’s last known location was here,” Lyla’s voice echoes out, and you let out a sigh.

“Why can’t villains have easy powers. Maybe a giant blob that is easy to take down? Why do they have to be so complicated? What’s this one again, a freaky shadow monster?” you think out loud.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Miguel retorts, glancing up toward you for a moment before turning back to Lyla. “Do a scan of the place, will you?”

“What do we say~” Lyla responds, and you giggle softly while Miguel huffs.

“Please,” he mutters.

“What was that?”

“Please, Lyla,” he says a little louder now, irritation growing in his voice.

“Already done,” the AI snickers, and he groans out loud as your laughter bounces off of the walls, a fist held out for Lyla to bump.

“The two of you will be the death of me,” he says lowly.

“Oh, don’t be like that, grumps. You’d be too stubborn to die,” you retort before tensing up, the hairs on the back of your neck rising with the familiar feeling of your heightened senses at work. The moment you sling yourself up is the moment a loud thud sounds out from where you once stood.

“Oh, I forgot to mention that the anomaly was in the far right corner,” Lyla says before disappearing.

“I really need to do a rewrite of her code,” Miguel mutters to himself.

In your previous spot emerges a dark figure, plumes of smoke emerging and dissipating from its form and allowing it to disappear into the shadows with ease.

With a simple nod, you get to work. Like a well-oiled machine, you work in practiced synchrony, bounding across the walls and slinging webs.

And just like that the anomaly is captured, the force field around it effectively trapping it for the ride back to HQ so it can be sent back to its own universe.

“That was…kinda lame,” you snicker, pulling off your mask

“Told you so,” Miguel says as he opens up a portal for you both, dragging the anomaly behind him.

“Don’t say that to me,” you pout.

“What, can’t handle the truth?” he retorts, a smirk playing across his lips as your bickering voices fade through the portal.

“…was that a smile,” Gwen asks as she watches the spot where they both had stood.

“Was that what it was?” Miles asks, a shudder racking through his body.

~

It was late at night at the HQ, and at this time everyone else had already gone back to their own universes. The few that lingered were the ones finishing up after a late-night mission.

Or, you were Peter B. Parker frantically searching through the kitchen for a bottle of milk for Mayday after a playdate with a select few spiders that went on for way longer than expected.

Mayday was an easy baby. Always happy and smiling, but that all disappears when she was hungry and you did not want a spider baby on a rampage.

“Alright, alright, give Daddy a few seconds to warm up your milk please?” Peter pleads as Mayday continues to babble angrily, crawling all over him.

She pauses for a moment, attention drawn elsewhere as she hangs off of her father’s back before leaping.

“Hey, lil spider!” You say with a laugh, catching her in your arms. “What are you doing here so late?” you ask.

“Playdate with Miles, Gwen and Hobie. Time really flew and she refused to leave until now,” Peter sighs tiredly, and you pat him on the back before putting her up onto your shoulders. “What are you doing here so late?”

You shrug, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard.

“Working late. Like you said, time really flew,” you say, but Peter knew that wasn’t the full truth.

“Working so hard that you need two cups of coffee?” he asks, holding out the bottle for Mayday to take, which is what she does happily as she snuggles up in her father’s arms.

“What can I say, caffeine doesn’t really work on me,” you grin, pouring the coffee from the machine. “Goodnight, Peter, Mayday,” you say, ruffling her red hair fondly.

And as quickly as you appeared, you disappear.

~

People didn’t often disturb the big boss man Miguel when he was working. Not if you wanted to stay on his good side.

It was even less often that someone barges into his room full of screens as he monitors the Archno-Humanoid Polymultiverse, let alone a group of them.

“We heard you talking to someone! And laughing,” Gwen says hesitantly as if she couldn’t even believe it herself. But she was invested in figuring out what the deal was between the two of you now.

“Well, do you see anyone around?” Miguel deadpans, his arms wide and gesturing around broadly. You could barely stifle the giggle as you sat on a beam high up on the ceiling, going unnoticed.

“W-well, no…But!” she says, and Miguel raises an eyebrow which makes Gwen shrink in her spot slightly before recovering. “But we heard you. There was someone here, wasn’t there?”

Hobie, ever the perceptive one tracks his eyes along the ceiling before spotting you swinging your legs with an amused look on your face. It seemed as though no one else had noticed though.

Miguel watches Hobie spot you and his eyes narrow in his direction, as if saying ‘I dare you to say anything’ to which the spider only raises his hands in mock surrender.

“No. There wasn't." He says, his tone final. "If that’s all you’re here for, I have important work to get to. So why don’t you go bother someone else, yeah?”

~

“I give up,” Gwen says, slumping in her chair. “We’re never going to figure it out.”

“Figure what out?” Jess asks, walking up to the group.

“Whether or not there is something going on between those two,” Miles says, nodding towards you and Miguel talking over in the corner of the room.

Jessica only hums, a knowing look in her eyes but she doesn’t say anything. Only asks a simple question.

“What makes you think so?”

“Everyone here knows that there’s something there, even if they want to admit it or not. She’s one of the few people he tolerates, they’re together almost all the time and he actually seems happy around her,” Gwen reasons.

“You could have just asked, you know,” you say, coming up on their conversation with an amused look on your face.

Their expressions range from flustered to simply amused and you can’t help the laughter that bubbles up as you make eye contact with Jess.

“And to answer the question,” you reach down your suit, pulling out a simple chain with a ring dangling off of the end.

“We’re actually married.”

The group goes silent for a moment, eyes wide as they stare at the necklace in your hands, trying to process your words.

Then, all hell breaks loose.

A/N: Hehe, I'm quite happy with this one :3 This is my first attempt at writing Miguel, sorry if I butchered him but I am absolutely hyperfixating on him after seeing ATSV in theatres yesterday.

Based on the prompt by @imslightlycreative though slightly changed :)) I hope you all enjoyed <3

Jotaro fingering you in the back of the car while everyone is sleeping except Joseph (who’s driving ) <3

CW: light exhibitionism

“fuck jotaro,, it’s too much..”

You whispered breathily, your thighs trembling as Jotaro pumped two of his thick fingers roughly in and out of your wet cunt. The softest, sweetest sighs and whimpers escaped your throat as he thrusted harshly, the palm of his hand smacking your swollen clit. your sweet eyes were clenched shut, and one of your small hand was holding his wrist gently—almost pleading him to slow down while the held onto his inner thigh, rubbing the bulge in his pants.

Even though you were hidden behind kakyoin’s seat, and jotaro’s huge, warm jacket was draped over your lap—you couldn’t help but feel uneasy. You were doing something so scandalous with your boyfriend while the rest of the crusaders are practically next to you.. just the idea of it makes your face flush with embarrassment, dreading but also craving for what was to come.

Jotaro slowed his pumping for a moment, shushing you quietly, and rubbing your clit comfortingly with his thumb as he slowly opened you up with a third thick finger, making you squirm with need and elicit a small gasp.

“shh, its ok baby, you can take more for me—can’t you?”

He murmured hotly, making your eyes roll back, and the weak grip on his wrist tighten. Using his opposite hand, he brushed up and down your inner thigh, growling at the stickiness before giving it an assertive squeeze.

“..fuckk~ y-yes Jotaro.”

He curled the thick fingers buried in your pussy against the walls of your gummy walls and pressed against your g-spot, making you sigh heavily, blush forming on your cheeks again as Jotaro clamped the hand that was originally on your thigh against your mouth, muffling your moans.

Orgasm was approached quickly, your body trembling with need and tears prickling your eyes as he picked up his slow, hard pace. He scissored, grinded, and rammed his fingers into your g-spot with ease, leaving your clit twitching and begging for release. his rough palm gave a hard slap against your sensitive clit making your pussy throb and clamp down his fingers.

“You gonna cum? Hm?”

Jotaro quickly uncovered your drooly mouth, watching your hazy watery eyes flicker open and gaze at him, your eyes glossed over with lust.

“f-fuck, yess—mmm..!”

“take the fucking jacket off your lap.”

you whimpered quietly, obeying his command and pulling up the black jacket on your lap for the first time. You both watched as his fingers disappear into your heat over and over, slick and coated in a sticky layer of your sweet cream. The sight only brought you closer to the edge, your brows pinching together as you clung onto his strong arm.

“you like watching me finger your tiny cunt? Hm? Fuck, watch yourself cum on my fingers.”

His growled quietly, his aqua eyes piercing into you, gauging your reaction right as you’re pushed over the edge and your orgasm crashed over you.

Jotaro watched you, his eyes dark as your eyes rolled back and your teeth dug into your bottom lip, containing your scream while you gushed around his fingers. Hot white electricity coursed through your veins—and tears spilled down your cheeks from just how fucking good it felt. as your orgasm finally began to subside, his fingers finally slowed. He gently pulled his fingers out, wiping your juices onto the seat of the car before moving in to give you a kiss. Unfortunately you also hear a deep chuckle from the front seat.

What a fucking night.