26 Ways Of Taking You: A For Aphrodisiac

26 Ways of Taking You: A for Aphrodisiac

Summary: On a quest to save your little brother, you and your fated companion Dream of the Endless, run into a small problem in Aphrodite's Temple.

Notes: ~2.2k words, GUYS! I finally wrote a fic that wasn't below 500 or above 5,000 words, it just doesn't need any random side characters... or a definitive plot.

Warnings: MDNI - 18+, dubious consent, sex pollen, aphrodisiac (duh), porn without plot, unprotected sex (get tested yearly guys), P in V, no foreplay just straight fucking, Dream is a red flag but he's my red flag. I am willing to die on that hill.

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Next

“A temple of Aphrodite?” You question as you walk through the marbled entrance. The overwhelming smell of roses fills your senses and the honks of swans disappear as you cross into the building.

Morpheus follows closely behind. The drizzle of rain seemingly bounces off his coat and hair leaving him dry like the Sahara. On the other hand, you, the poor human with no otherworldly affiliations, were soaked to the bone. Your light jacket and sundress stuck to your skin until it became itchy and you quickly take off your jacket to dry easier in the momentary shelter. 

You miss the way Morpheus stares at your exposed shoulders and legs. His eyes run up and down your body, to the way the dress sticks to you like a second skin.

“Aphrodite loved Ares, unlike her vowed husband. But such is the game of gods.” Morpheus explains and peels his eyes away from you. 

You lean on a large pillar that supports a large brazier, one of many others. The heat helps you warm up and the shivers slowly leave your body as it dries your clothes. 

“So, Ares is… here?” You say without much confidence.

When the fates set you out on this quest to find your brother, you hadn’t even packed your lunch yet. They just threw you to the wind and then gave you Morpheus as a guide. As for him, it was so “He could get out of the house more” as his older sister has explained it to you. 

So, here you were, soaked in summer rain and sharing conversation with Dream of the Endless on a quest to find your kidnapped brother - all of which happened since this morning. The everything bagel and cream cheese you had for breakfast sat uncomfortably in your stomach, the same stomach that was screaming at you to eat something as your journey had left you to skip the midday meal. 

“Ares is behind this gate created by Aphrodite,” Dream sighs as if he were spelling out the obvious. “Yes, it is a possibility.”

You simply roll your eyes. For someone who is almost infinitely older than you, he certainly didn’t act like it. Feeling warmer and dry you started exploring the temple, running your fingers across the divots in the carved stone much like the climbing ivy that decorated the walls. 

At the end of the temple stood a magnificent statue of Aphrodite herself, wrapped in cloth and her hair flowing in the wind. Beneath her pedestal, you could make out a rectangular outline made out of large roses. 

“Hey! The door!” You exclaim in excitement. As much as you hate to admit it, Morpheus was right. He usually was right but you’d rather keep that comment to yourself, in case the ego inflates any more of his head and he drifts off. Which, would unfortunately leave you on your own to solve these puzzles. 

Morpheus appears behind you, peering over your shoulder at the door. 

“Seems like a hidden mechanism. It would be wise to not touc-”

You press your palm onto the center of the door and it gives away to the pressure of it. 

“You fool!” Morpheus seethes out and you tense. 

It seems like a trap, now that you think about it. With bated breath you wait, slowly inching yourself closer to Morpheus in hopes that the King of Dreams may be able to protect you if something were to go wrong. 

Yet, nothing. 

The door slides back into place, the sound of marble against marble scraping against each other in the otherwise completely quiet sanctuary. The quiet atmosphere stays peaceful for a few seconds but ends when a yelp escapes you when the roses suddenly go into full bloom, the petals giving a “floosh” right in your face, its sweet pollen dusting both of your bodies. You stare wide-eyed at it waiting for anything else to happen. When nothing did, you let out a sigh of relief and turn to Dream with a smile. 

“See, nothing to worry about.” You shrug with your palms facing upwards. The two of you stare back as a golden engraving appears on the door. 

“One from two, enter together.” You read out loud while trying to dust off the shimmering pollen, sneezing when some enter your nose instead. 

Great, a riddle but nothing comes to your mind as you think. Morpheus glares at you still and his eyes drift down to the palm that touched the door. 

“Your hand is glowing,” He states. 

You look down at your open palm and panic. The skin is bright pink and as Morpheus has stated, glowing. You scream at your hand and shake it aggressively. When the glowing still doesn’t reside you scream again and face the palm towards Morpheus’ face and shake it aggressively to grab his attention. 

“Enough,” He commands and grabs your wrist. The grip is stern but it doesn’t hurt and the warmth of his skin calms you down. 

It is now that you realize that the skin doesn’t actually hurt. There’s no burning sensation or pins or needles, nothing. Morpheus takes a closer look at your hand and you can feel the exhale of his breath fanning your palm. It tickles and you try to pull away, but his grip doesn’t relent. 

“What? Do you see something?” You ask, your other hand is clenched in on itself as a way of grounding yourself. 

Morpheus doesn’t entertain you with an answer and instead brings his face closer. A sound that you didn’t know you could produce comes out from your throat as you feel the warm, slick feeling of his tongue on your palm. 

“Wha..mm” Your words fall short and he licks again and a whimper leaves your lips. You look up at him, his eyes are closed as he inhales deeply.

He brings your hand to his cheek and leans into it. When you release your hand and he lets you, you see that your glowing mark has smeared to his cheek. You come in closer, nervous about marking the Endless but he stops you again. He peers at you, all silver gone from his eyes and instead blown pupils pull you deep into their voids. 

His hands find themselves around your waist and you place your hands on his chest to stop him from invading any more of your space. It doesn’t and he advances still. His brooding act doesn’t help with voicing whatever he could possibly be thinking. 

“Hey, what’s gotten into you,” You release a moan at the end when he presses his nose to the junction of your neck. The hot breath released from his mouth had your lower regions start to grow hot and slick. 

When his tongue licks the length of your neck, your fingers grasp desperately at the lapels of his jacket, holding on tight as your knee buckle beneath you. Morpheus smelled like grass after a summer thunderstorm and he stood sturdy like an old oak tree. 

You whisper his name and his grip tightens more, bruising and unforgiving. 

He groans into your neck. “Aphrodisiac.” 

Of course, Aphrodisiac, named after the goddess Aphrodite, the very goddess you are trying to please and solve her riddle. The thought crosses your mind momentarily but it is quickly cut short by Morpheus’ continued administration. The pink stain spreads further on Morpheus, anywhere and everywhere you touch him. Your cheek was pink as well, where he touched yours and markings of his tongue glowed pink as he continued his kisses down your neck and across your collarbone. 

“Oh, gods,” You moan into his hair as he dives deeper towards your chest. Your body is turning hot and you can’t tell if it’s just the aphrodisiac or the way he is touching you. Perhaps it’s neither, perhaps it’s both. Either way, you can’t stop the sounds that escape your lips. 

He presses forward and you step back until your back hits the pedestal and Morpheus’ large frame follows, trapping you between a rock and a harder place. You can feel his erection pressing against your stomach, hot and heavy and begging to be released. 

With restraint, Morpheus pulls back and pants into your neck. Your own breath was ragged, your tongue felt heavy when you speak. 

“Please,” You whisper, your hands travel down his chest, pink smearing along his black shirt, and cup his erection. 

He looks at you now, eyes peering into your soul asking you if you really did want this. You nod, not trusting your voice for a second time. 

“Say it,” He commands again, his forehead pressed against yours. “Say it,” He whispers in a plea. 

You tip your head up and respond with the strength you have left. “Yes,” You murmur against his lips, barely brushing yours with his own. 

He seals the deal with a kiss and hands once again go to your waist. He grabs you, hoisting you up and your legs immediately wrap themselves around his lean torso. You impatiently grind your heat into his as he dips his hands below your dress line and moves your undergarments to the side. 

It was rushed, it was sloppy and it was nowhere near romantic, yet you’ve never felt so much excitement. No one was near but the peering gaze of the daunting Aphrodite statue made you feel exposed. Morpheus doesn’t bother to warm you up for him and the heat of his cock presses against your cunt. He pushes forward and it stings. Tears swell in your eyes at the intrusion, his cock splitting you open as he sets a rhythmic pace. 

“Forgive me, forgive me,” He chants into your ear but the words fly in one ear and out the other. The pleasure the Dream Lord was giving you more important and present in your mind. 

Your hand reaches into his hair and grabs onto his roots. A groan sings from his throat and you can’t help it when your lips connect to his Adam’s apple. You leave bruising kisses along his neck and continuously feel the vibrations of his moans, each one low and gritty. 

Morpheus felt like he was about to lose his mind if he didn’t quickly finish the two of you off. His body felt like it was on fire and his head pounded in his skull with ideologies of fucking you until you were nothing but a pile of pleasure. When your nails grip his shoulders, he welcomes the pain and bites down on your collarbone to suppress his wanton moans. 

You were too sweet for him, a type of innocence that he didn’t want to taint. Tears well up in his eyes as he realizes that he did it without him even knowing. The aphrodisiac completely consumes the two of you. He loved it, the feeling of your legs wrapped around his waist, your grip on his hair, your moans filling the space and echoing around the temple, but were not his to take. 

“More, more, more,” You moan, head thrown back towards the ceiling and he couldn’t deny you the pleasure.

His thrusts become ferocious, slamming into you harder and harder until you were just a babbling mess in front of him. Your words range from his name to curses to simple pleas. The contractions of your cunt spasming around him make him falter for a moment but he presses on. When your orgasm reaches you, your scream is muffled by his open mouth kiss. His thrusts turn sloppy and uneven before he finishes as well and you feel the way his cock pulses within you. His semen drips out of your spent hole and mixes with your release on the polished marble floor. 

Your body deflates as the orgasm finishes and you’re left panting and leaning on Morpheus as your thighs tremble around his waist. The door behind you opens with an ungodly scrapping sound and you look behind you. Lust was still evident in your eyes but you were pulled back to the real world again. 

The aphrodisiac wore off and a blush rose high into your cheeks. You push against Morpheus’ chest not wanting to be in his space, asking him to put you down, but quickly realize that it was a bad idea when your knees buckle and you start to fall. 

Morpheus grabs onto you to steady you and you murmur a thanks, too embarrassed to look at him in the eyes. The aphrodisiac has made you look at Morpheus in a different light, but there were more important matters at hand. You take one steady breath and readjust your underwear and dress, Morpheus releases his grip on your arms as you go to turn towards the open door. 

Beyond the door is nothing but darkness with a slight wind blowing out towards you and the smell of metal and leather comes into your nose. Before you can go, Morpheus’ fingers wrap around your arm again. 

“Should we… talk about it?” He asks in that low voice of his. 

You look back at him, somehow finding the confidence to look at him in the eyes. You find that they are full of adoration and passion that it turns your eyes downwards again. You’ve heard the rumors of what it means to be the lover to Dream of the Endless. It is rainbows and butterflies, the world at the edge of your fingertips, but one wrong move, and you are cast away like you were less than nothing. You think of Nada, Queen of the First People, who is still condemned to Hell for declining his promise to make her queen of the Dreaming. 

It’s too much, you have your brother to save, and there is no room to talk about love. 

“Later,” You say instead. You still need his help and if the promise of ‘later’ keeps him around long enough until the end of your quest, then so be it. 

“Very well. Later,” He repeats then follows you into the realm of Ares.

Want to be added to my tag list for my future fics? Comment, send me a message, or a DM and I'll add you!

This is going to be a 26 part series, all porn, no plot hehe ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)

Until the next fic,

♡ Yours, Layla

I love foils. So, here's a collection of similarities between Vox and Alastor!

The classic angry table clawing - everyone knows that one:

Smiling for heightened control and influence (and smiling through annoyance):

The [demonic shock] [slow head turn] [extra filtered voice] "haha, what did you [just] say?" scenes:

These scenes, at the beginning and end of Stayed Gone:

Depicting themselves as a member of a religious institution to vie for the audience's trust:

pastries & promises | jjk

⛓️pairing: hotnerd!jungkook x popular!reader

⛓️genre: smut, fluff, college!au

⛓️summary: After hooking up with the hot nerdy boy in your coding class over the weekend, you’ll use any excuse to keep his hands on your body all week long.

⛓️word count: 3k

⛓️warnings: catdilf!jk, dom!jk, sub!reader, daddy/kitten undertones, praise kink, dirty talk, oc is a horny lil brat, mention of getting wasted at parties, one instance of slut-shaming, oc makes an ignorant comment about earl grey tea lol, no explicit smut in this drabble

⛓️p&p masterlist⛓️

a/n: this takes place a few days after p&p jjk & oc start talking to give us a glimpse of what their new dynamic is like in & out of class✨ btw despite what oc says about earl grey, i personally love it;;

After a weekend of sex, coding, kitten shenanigans, and more sex, you wake up to a beautiful boy with equally beautiful tattoos nagging you to “get the fuck up” for the “hundredth time” because “class starts in twenty minutes” and “attendance is worth 25% of your grade.” It somehow slipped your mind that it’s already Monday. Can he really blame you after fucking you silly several hours ago?

You tug at the collar of his hoodie and pull him on top of you. Still very much naked beneath the sheets, you suggest, “Or we can just skip class and extend our weekend? I’m sure we can find something fun to do.”

“Nice try, but no.” Jungkook offers you a hand and pulls you into an upright sitting position. The sheets slide down your chest, and you catch the boy staring a little too long.

“And you expect me to walk into class without a bra?” It’s not your fault you rushed over to his place last night in nothing but a baby tee and leggings. Why bother throwing on a bra when you know it’s gonna be torn off your body the second you step into his room?

“I mean, I’m not against it.” His eyes are still locked onto your chest. At least he’s a guy who appreciates art when he sees it. When he’s finally done, he digs through his closet and throws one of his grey hoodies into your arms. “But this will keep you warmer.”

You sniff the hoodie. It’s clean but still has the very scent you’ve familiarized yourself with a lot this weekend—blossoms and bergamot. It smells delicious.

With a sigh, you hop out of the bed and collect your pieces of clothing from every corner of the room. Your thong somehow wound up slung over his computer screen, but better there than on the floor.

Once you’re dressed in your day-old clothes, you slip into the boy’s hoodie and drown in his scent. The warmth that engulfs you makes you want to adopt his comfy casual style. At least on school days. Maybe you wouldn’t dread going to class so much if you could just sit there and be all cozy like that.

You’d still prefer to stay home and fuck him, though.

“You know what, I’m not feeling very well all of a sudden,” you lie. “Maybe you should stay home too so we don’t spread any germs to our beloved classmates.”

“Maybe you should just go to class like a good girl, and maybe you’ll be rewarded afterward,” he throws back at you. The way you perk up is almost embarrassing. But you’ve definitely got a thing for being praised and rewarded for good behavior. Especially if the prize is something pleasurable. So yeah, you suppose you’ll endure class for a few hours so that you can have some more fun later on.

“Fine.” You wrap your pinky around his to solidify the deal. He gives you a look but doesn’t pull his finger away. “But just know that you’re a nerd for never skipping class.”

“And how do you know I never skip class?” He raises his brow with intrigue.

“We’ve been in at least three or four other comp sci classes together, and I’ve never seen you miss a day.”

“Oh, so you’ve been keeping tabs on me all this time?” He’s totally calling you out. But he isn’t wrong. As quiet as Jungkook is in class, it’s hard not to notice someone who’s so incredibly smart. Doesn’t hurt that you’ve always thought he was kinda cute too.

“I guess you could say that,” you admit. What you won’t admit, however, is the fact that you’d wanted to talk to him back then but didn’t know how to initiate a conversation. You might be considered popular, but you sure as hell don’t know how to talk to people unless they strike up the conversation first. And Jeon Jungkook clearly didn’t have any intentions of being the initiator.

Thank god for that partner project that started it all.

Just before the two of you can get out the door, a tiny mew stops you in your tracks. The kitten looks up at Jungkook and cries again.

“You have to stay home, little one,” he says, holding a hand up for her to sit and stay. Like the naughty demon child she is, she ignores everything he says and climbs up his leg and into his arms. You can hear her purring as soon as she rests her chin on her dad’s shoulder like an actual baby. It’s so tempting to take a million pictures of the glorious cat dad moment and set one as your phone wallpaper, but you’d definitely run out of storage. Good to know you have some form of restraint when it comes to your infatuation.

After ten heartwarming seconds, he sets the kitten down in her pink bed and gives her a new tiger toy that was special ordered from some fancy cat shop on the other side of the country. 

“Stay,” he tells her again before rising out of his squat. When she does as she’s told, he adds, “Good kitten.”

Oh, how you wish he was saying that to you right now.

“Your daddy really spoils you, you know that?” you giggle, waving bye to the kitty. A second later, you’re overcome by the urge to latch around Jungkook’s arm as you both head to his car. “When are you going to spoil me like that?”

He doesn’t give you a specific answer, but you’ll gladly accept the way he shrugs with the faintest hint of a smile. The two of you haven’t been talking all that long, and yet, he seems to be tolerating your antics well. At the very least, he must like you a tiny bit.

On the car ride over, you feel like you’re forgetting something. And then the boy’s stomach rumbles. Neither of you has eaten anything since the impromptu fast food run last night.

“Ooh, we should stop by the cute little bakery near campus before class,” you suggest, totally not trying to avoid class for the thousandth time today. “I heard they have really good muffins.”

“We’re gonna be late if we make any detours.” He catches a glimpse of your pout as he makes a right turn. “We can go after.”

Your pout quickly becomes a smile because he keeps sweetening the deal. You’re very much looking forward to the promised pastries and sex after class along with anything else he might throw in.

When you get to class, the usual gal crowd is hanging around your desk. Except someone else is there sitting in your seat. It’s Big Tim. Great. You love confrontation first thing in the morning.

Before approaching the seat thief, you watch him throw a cocky ass smile at Jungkook who straight up ignores it as he takes his seat next door. You would’ve appreciated a little help, but there’s nothing from Big Tim you can’t handle. Besides, the two of you agreed to keep the whole hookup thing lowkey and out of the mouths of your gossiping classmates. Otherwise Jungkook would probably end up hearing a wacky rumor-fied version of it from his tattoo artist.

“Hi?” you say to the guy in your seat. You’ll play nice for now.

“Oh hi Y/N, we were just talking about you.” Big Tim gives you a much kinder smile than the one he threw at Jungkook—a byproduct of being popular, you suppose.

“About what?” You’re genuinely confused.

“There’s a party at my place this weekend, and I’m hoping you’ll be there.” This is the first time he’s personally invited you anywhere. Is it a coincidence that he’s doing it in front of an audience?

“Thanks for the invite, but I’m all partied out for a while,” you respond as honestly and gracefully as possible. You have no interest in hanging out with Big Tim, but parties aren’t completely off the table forever. It might be fun to bring Jungkook to one eventually, even though he claims he’s uninterested in getting wasted with people he couldn’t care less about. “Can I have my seat back now?”

Big Tim laughs it off like you weren’t being serious. “Aww, don’t be like that. It’s just gonna be a small thing with you, me, and a few others. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

You and him? You almost gag. That doesn’t sound like fun at all. And what’s up with him dismissing your gentle rejection? If he didn’t want to be rejected in front of everyone, he shouldn’t have hyped it up in the first place. Now it just feels like he’s pressuring you into going along with it because he knows you’re too soft to make him look bad in front of others. Unfortunately for him, that’s not going to happen.

“I’m seeing someone—a single father, actually—and I’ve been helping him with his kid. So I don’t have time for your party.” The single father part is a bit of a stretch, but you kind of like the sound of it. He’s your local hot cat dilf after all.

The girls’ jaws all drop at the same time. Big Tim’s smile also drops a bit, but he continues to shrug it off. “Helping a dad with his kid? Anything for a good dicking, I guess.”

Okay, buddy. 

You tried to stay courteous about the whole situation, and this is what you get in return. He can say whatever he wants to make himself feel better about himself, but it’s also sad to see not a single one of the other girls step in and call him out on his bullshit. You’re sick of it.

“Are you done? Can you leave now?” You look Big Tim straight in the eyes, although you’re hoping the girls take a hint to leave as well.

They don’t. Because they’re too invested in how Big Tim will respond as he opens his big mouth once more.

“She said leave,” Jungkook snaps out of nowhere. If you had to guess, he was trying to catch up on sleep after that long night with you, and now he’s cranky and mad that Big Tim can’t just shut up and take the L.

Big Tim and the girls collectively turn their heads toward the grumpy boy who cuts the conversation off with a death glare to each and every one of them. As expected, Jungkook is the only person who’d ever take your side on anything. And that’s why he’s the only one who matters to you these days.

At long last, the crowd disperses and everyone goes back to their seats. Just in time for class to begin.

As soon as class ends, you stretch your arms out, slip past all the girls who want the deets on this mysterious dilf you’re seeing, and meet back up with said dilf outside the building.

“Bakery time?” You’re smiling awfully bright despite the shitshow that went down before class. But that’s the effect Jeon Jungkook seems to have on you. You’ll take a bad day every once in a while if he’s there to make it a little better.

“Don’t bakeries usually close early?” he asks in a calm voice as if that isn’t the most devastating thing someone has said to you all day. You hadn’t thought about that.

In a panic, you pull out your phone to check the time and google the bakery’s business hours. Before you can get your answer, the boy chuckles, “It’s open. I already checked. You’re just fun to fuck with.”

You’d fight him for messing with you like that, but you’re too distracted by that chuckle. It’s a rare occurrence that you’ll treasure forever. Who knew he had such a charming laugh? And how lucky are you to be the one to hear it?

“By the way, thanks for earlier,” you say as you hop into his car. “I was about to throw hands at Tim.”

“I thought his name was Jim.” The boy looks so confused. You love it. “But yeah, you should’ve thrown hands for all that shit he said.”

“He wasn’t wrong about the good dicking though,” you hum. You can’t even remember the last time sex was this good. 

“Definitely not wrong about that,” Jungkook agrees with a big fat smirk on his face.

When the two of you arrive at the bakery, you’re delighted to see that they haven’t sold out of the famous poppy seed muffins you’ve been eyeing on Yelp. You try to get Jungkook on board with the muffin agenda, but he opts for a buttery croissant—another solid pick. You’ll definitely be stealing a bite out of that flaky pastry of his.

“Which drink are you getting?” you ask, eyeing the drink menu like it’s a map of Disneyland. Everything looks so fucking good that you don’t know where to start.

“A London fog.” You have no idea what that is, but it sounds boring. “It’s earl grey,” he clarifies upon seeing the ignorance in your eyes.

“Isn’t that what old people drink?” you snicker. “You’re a nerd and a senior citizen?”

“Well what are you getting? A hot chocolate, right? Because that’s what babies drink,” he teases back. Now that you think about it, he calls you Baby an awful lot in bed. If the two of you were dating, you wonder if you could get him to call you that all the time. Hypothetically speaking, of course.

You do end up getting the hot chocolate while Jungkook gets his elderly drink. As the barista is ringing the order up at the register, a cute sign catches your attention at the other end of the counter because there’s a cat on it. You wander over to it and pick up one of the baggies with fresh baked cat treats in it. What a coincidence.

“Hey Jungkook, look. Let’s get this for Lucy, too.” Excited by your last-minute find, you scurry back to the register where the boy is already slipping his wallet back into his butt pocket. Fine, if he wants to pay for your breakfast, then you’re paying for the kitty treats.

After you pay and secure all your food, the two of you return to Jungkook’s place. The first thing you do is seek out the kitten who’s busy taking a nap on the boy’s bed instead of in her own.

She blinks at you with heavy eyelids and twitches her nose toward the bag in your hand.

“Good morning, little cutie,” you grin. “I brought you some special treats.”

Her big ears immediately shoot up as she starts pawing at the bag. She’s so fucking cute you could cry.

“You have to ask your daddy if it’s okay to eat one now.” You continue to use your baby voice before turning to the daddy in question standing behind you.

“Just one.” The stern dad voice comes out. “And make sure you break it in half. She’s small, you know.”

“Yes, daddy.” By now, the word slips so naturally off your tongue. You meant for it to be sarcastic this time, but you’re also very aware of what it does to him and his body.

He watches quietly as you break the treat into bits and hold it in your palm for the kitten to gobble up. She meows, optimistic for more special treats, but you stick to the plan and give her more pets and cuddles instead.

“Your daddy is so mean, huh. He doesn’t want you eating any more yummy treats,” you blabber into the kitten’s ear. She makes a whiny sound in agreement.

“Hey, what are you two conspiring about over there?” Jungkook frowns.

“Oh nothing.” You’re about to shoo him away but notice his lock screen flashing on in his hand. It looks like a pic of you and the kitten conspiring together. “Wait, what’s that on your phone?”

“Oh nothing,” he mocks you before changing the subject. “Drink your hot chocolate already. It’s getting cold.”

You take a sip of it as you devour the muffin. Your drink is basically cold chocolate milk at this point, but at least it still tastes amazing. The muffin slaps too.

“Taste,” you say as you offer up your half-eaten muffin to the boy. He takes a bite like a good boyfriend would—except he’s not actually your boyfriend.

“It’s good,” he shrugs as he goes back to the flaky pastry. “The croissant’s better though.”

“Let me taste.” You grab hold of the boy’s chin and taste the butter on his lips. He kisses back with long, tender motions that leave you wanting far more than just a casual makeout session. There’s no doubt in your mind that he tastes better than both the muffin and croissant combined. You pull back for just a second to say, “Hey, wasn’t I promised sex after class?”

“Do the homework first. It’s easy.” Of course Jeon Jungkook has his priorities straight, and of course you listen because you’re craving more of his praise. At least he’s a good influence on you. “And I never said sex specifically, by the way. Is that what you were thinking about in that dirty little head of yours?”

He’s 100% right. Your horny mind just believes whatever it wants to believe. Right now, it's telling you the boy wants it just as much as you do. He’s just better at hiding it.

“It was heavily implied though,” you huff as you take your laptop out and start on a boring coding exercise on his bed. “The sex better be really good!” And that’s a threat.

“When has it not been?” Jungkook shoots you an arrogant look. Good point. And apparently he’s already finished with the assignment because he shuts his computer off and turns his attention to your screen. He sits his ass right behind you, slips his hands up into the hoodie you’re wearing, and whispers into your ear, “Now hurry up and finish. I’m waiting.”

so..... what about a lucifer itabag?

i designed this for me lol but if there's people interested i may open an interest check/kickstarter

A Miserable Night-Damian Wayne x Addams!Reader Blurb

Word Count: 901

Summary: A little bit of fluff set in the soon to be established Addams!Reader universe. Damian is aged up if you can’t tell btw

Warnings: Actually none I’m pretty sure...I don’t think there’a even any cursing in this one which is crazy, but lots of fluff, also possibly some ooc moments but idk it’s my fic and I can write cuddling if I want to

A/N: okay so I’m gonna make an actual series out of this but I was just too excited and I had to write this. Also: picture the 60s Addams Fam here, the universe is gonna be kind of a mishmash of different incarnations, but for the most part especially here be picturing the original show

Taglist: @panic-attheplace (If anyone else wants to be tagged in this series or any of my other writing Please let me know, and if at Any point anyone wants to be removed don’t feel bad about letting me know that either)

“Titus, what a surprise,” You greeted as you walked into your bedroom, the large dog sitting at attention just inside the door. Of course you weren’t surprised, as your butler had informed you that both your boyfriend and his dog were there, but you didn’t want Titus to think that hon were unappreciative of his presence. You reached out a hand, allowing him to lift his paw and drop it against your palm. A tiny smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you nodded to him, “At ease, buddy.”

He made a little noise in response and hopped onto your bed, immediately curling up and dropping his head to drool on your velvet duvet cover.

Pausing, you grabbed one of your designated throw pillows for this very matter, clucking your tongue at him quietly until he lifted his head and you could slide the pillow under him, giving his ears a scratch once he laid his head back down, “There you go, you brutal little monster.”

“He’s going to get spoiled because of you,” Damian stood in your doorway, arms crossed over his chest.

Scoffing, you stepped towards him, an accusatory finger pointed his way, “Aren’t you the one who bought him a thousand dollar dog bed?”

He scowled in response, pressing a grumpy kiss to your forehead before settling onto your bed himself, leaned against your backboard with his legs crossed in front of him.

“The silent treatment,” You followed suit, flopping down next to him and throwing your legs over his lap, “Very mature from the man who snuck into my house because he was lonely. I think you’re the spoiled one, darling.”

Although Damian’s scowl deepened, he threw an arm around your shoulder to pull you closer to him, “It’s not the silent treatment, and I didn’t sneak in. Even I am not sure that I could get past Lurch.”

Letting out a quiet laugh, you nodded, “Fair enough. So it’s not the silent treatment, and you didn’t sneak in, but you are here because you were lonely, huh?”

“What?” Damian spluttered quite uncharacteristically for just a moment, shoving your shoulder half heartedly, “As if. I’m here because Titus wanted to visit. I didn’t even know you were going to be home.”

You shoved his shoulder back, “Is that why Lurch told me that you called to ask when I’d be home before you came over?”

As if on cue and before Damian could argue, you heard a heavy handed knock against your dooframe, followed by a low grunt as your butler ducked his head to look in the open door, great and heavy eyebrow raised in question.

“Come on in,” You nodded to him, giving Damian’s hand a squeeze, reassuring him that he didn’t have to pull away from you.

Lurch approached the bed, letting out another grunt as he reached out to stiffly Titus’s head, who responded with a nearly identical noise.

Face twisting into a smile, the butler straightened back up, his gravelly voice tinged with warmth, “Telephone for you Mr. Wayne.”

Although you started to stand so that he could get up, Damian squeezed your hand back, and once you paused he spoke, “Did they say who’s calling, Lurch?”

“Your father.”

“Let him know I’m busy, please,” Damian smiled, and Lurch nodded, giving Titus one last pat before he turned on his heel and exited the room.

You pressed a kiss to Damian’s jaw, not able to hold back a smirk, “You’re busy, huh?”

“Well your uncle stopped me on the way in and told me that your family is having a little moonbathing session tonight. Thought maybe I’d join you,” He laughed warmly, “If you think the family will have me.”

Another knock thumped through the air, although this one didn’t come from your doorway, but rather from the box attached to your wall. You paused, both of you looking at it, and the dismembered hand who lived inside pushed his little door open, giving you both a thumbs up before closing the door and disappearing once again.

“Thank you Thing,” You straightened up, turning back to Damian, “You’ve got the family vote. But...are you sure? Do you really want to moonbathe with us?”

“I’ve heard it’s very restorative.”

Damian was well liked by your family, but they’d always thought he was a bit odd. He didn’t much like to take part in your family traditions usually, but now bere he was, here he was telling you that he wanted to join, and before you could stop yourself you threw your arms around his neck, pressing kisses all over his face eagerly, “Oh, Dami! It’s going to be so fun, it really will be, and if you really want to relax then after the moonbathing you can try out the rack, and maybe even the press if Uncle Fester is in a good enough mood.”

He cupped your face in both hands, although whether this was a tender gesture or simply him trying deescalate your fervent desire to introduce him to all the Addams things he hadn’t experienced first hand over the years was hard to tell, “Let’s just see where the night takes us, alright, my love?”

“Of course,” You placed your hands on top of his, allowing him to lean forward and kiss you gently, quickly, sweetly, before you continued, “Darling, this will be such a miserable night.”

Devilish deal

“Are you ready for our wedding night, my lovely wife?”

Your blood turned to ice as you stared at the Radio Demon, who merely chuckled at your expression and scramble to the top of the bed.

“Come now, what did you think was going to happen, hmm?”

You knew Alastor was the traditional type, what with carrying you over the threshold not even an hour ago and his insistence on an actual wedding. That said, the thought of the wedding night happening so soon was a little too much for you, and you squeaked as he advanced on your quivering form on the bed, licking his chops like a cougar who’d lucked out and found a particularly delicious prey animal.

“I…” you paused, shuffling back from him as he moved to sit before you, taking your hands in his and rubbing over your trembling hands with a surprising gentleness that you hadn’t expected from such claw-tipped hands, having seen firsthand the damage that those taloned fingers could do; shredding demons into ribbons like a hot knife through butter… But Alastor had never hurt you with those claws.

His hand gently came up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as he leaned in, lips brushing your earlobe as he spoke.

“What are you so afraid of, sweetness?”

You buried your face into his neck, feeling his chest rumble as he chuckled, lifting your hand and pressing kisses to your palm.

This man is going to be the death of me.

“I’m- I’ve never…” You trailed off, hoping he’d get the hint, and he hummed, pressing a kiss on the side of your head.

“I understand that you’re scared, little wife, but I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

His lips came to nip at your throat before he paused to inhale the scent of your skin, then grazing your pulse with sharp teeth.

“I’ll be gentle until you beg me for more,” the soft grazing turned to nips before the demon sucked a bruising hickey to your throat, making you cry out in pain and pleasure.

You’d never been with anyone before, and while your curious fingers had cautiously explored your body, nothing had ever prepared you for the feeling of heat curling in your belly, and you unconsciously rubbed your thighs together for friction as your new husband made a mess of your neck, his own moans staining your cheeks scarlet.

Reluctantly, he pulled away, all heavy-lidded and crimson eyes ablaze with desire as he regarded you, sinful gaze burning as he turned his attention to your inner thighs. “Looks like you’re excited too, sweet thing.”

You only huffed in response, not trusting your voice or knowing what to respond with.

“As I said, I’ll be gentle… until you’re begging me to fuck you, that is.”

“Alastor!” you yelped, smacking his broad shoulder, but he only chuckled, beginning to stroke your thigh tenderly.

“And I know you’ll taste even more delicious than you smell right now, so will you allow me to fulfil my husbandly duties?”

Your stomach twisted with dread at the title, but your apparent lust for the demon seemed to push it away, focused only on pleasure.

You nodded, but Alastor’s grin turned sinister, “No, no, my sweet. I’m not going to do anything until you tell me to.”

Your hands covered your blushing face as another squeak left your lips, but the demon only laughed, clearly enjoying this as he parted your legs, clawed digits sweeping over your skin to play with the hem of your panties.

“I…” you exhaled slowly, lowering your hands to look at the infernal demon resting his head on your thigh. A smug smirk played at his lips as he watched you grapple with voicing your desires. “I want you to…”

“Yes, my sweet little wife?”

You twitched at the nickname and exhaled, trying with all your might to steel yourself and tell the damn demon what you wanted, but it was so hard. You weren’t a prude, but there were certain things you’d never voiced aloud, your sexual desires being one of them, and it was clearly coming to bite you. Alastor seemed more than willing to entertain your desires, but why couldn’t you say it?

You’d survived emerging in Hell and being fought over like the last slice of pizza before finding sanctuary in this pit. Surely you could tell your new husband that you wanted your-

“Aww, pretty crybaby,” his voice cooed out. You hadn’t realised you were crying from frustration until now, and Alastor had moved to sit up and delicately began lapping at your tears with a sinful tongue. “Is my precious girl having trouble with her words?”

You sniffed, wiping away the remnants of your tears, staring balefully at the redhead who seemed to take immense pleasure in your struggle. He only cooed at you in response, probably finding your glare adorable as he cupped your face in his hands.

“I’ll tell you what, sweetling,” he pecked your nose, and you scrunched your nose in distaste, but Alastor didn’t seem to mind. “Just this once, I’ll hold off on the teasing, but next time, I expect you to fully voice your desires. Understand, baby?”

You nodded meekly, and he pressed a lingering kiss to your lips, “Good. Now let’s begin.”

A yelp escaped your lips as he pushed you down to rest on the mountain of pillows; though you didn’t have time to scold him, his teeth grazing at your inner thighs was reason enough to stop the air in your lungs.

The Radio Demon set a pattern of gentle bites and nips along your inner thighs, punctuating them with soothing licks when your legs jolted a little harsher than normal. You didn’t know what to do with yourself right now; you couldn’t look away from the redhead nestled between your thighs as his ministrations made your core pulse with need and your pussy moisten in anticipation and excitement as he moved closer to his goal.

Soon enough, he was nosing at your pussy through your panties, inhaling your scent salaciously through the thin fabric.

“If you want me to stop, tell me now, or I won’t be able to hold back.” His voice was husky, dripping with need that sent sparks of arousal to your loins and crimson to colour your cheeks again at the sight of such a usually well-put-together man addled with lust without having tasted you yet.

Though a part of you would never admit it, seeing what your body did to such a powerful demon sent a thrill coursing through your body.

You nodded your assent timidly, and the demon’s ever-present grin turned lecherous as he returned to his focus.

His claws shredded the only barrier between your most sacred place and his lecherous gaze, and you tensed as he inhaled your scent.

“Perhaps I shall say grace just this once,” he growled, and you squeaked at the unholy thought. Alastor didn’t seem too bothered by a verbal response or reaction, merely dipping his head and beginning to press kisses and lap at your opening. You slowly let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

His sinful tongue probed at your folds, waking your pussy up and lapping at your juices, moaning into your pussy at the taste. You’d jolted a few times, almost kicking Alastor in the dick once, which led to shadowy tendrils loosely holding your legs down, not tying you down firmly, but loose enough that you didn’t feel constricted but also didn’t risk hurting Alastor when you inevitably jolted again.

The room was silent save for your shaky breathing and the obscene noises that escaped the demon as he opened you up, tongue and teeth making a mess of your pussy that was dripping with arousal that Alastor was more than eager to lap up.

You didn’t know how long had passed since Alastor had started, but he was taking it slow for your sake. However, that sinful tongue was talented enough to make you whimper, and despite being in uncharted territory, you knew something had to give – crying out when his tongue, at last, breached your inner walls.

Your hands scrambled for purchase – needing something, anything, to hold onto as the demon devoured you like you were his last meal. You blindly grasped at the base of his enlarged antlers and tried to breathe.

He paused momentarily, the talented muscle buried inside stilling for the first time since he began, and you feared he’d pull away. Luckily, he resumed his efforts, moaning into you as your fingers curled around his sturdy antlers, your hips moving instinctively to rock against his face.

His fingers were tracing some sort of design into your thighs, but your mind was so clouded with lust that you couldn’t focus, and every attempt to parse out what he was tracing was thrown away by the movements of his tongue. That was a mystery for later because right now, you couldn’t bring yourself to care, what with the Radio Demon practically devouring you from your pussy up.

You wouldn’t last long. You knew you couldn’t. Your defences had been lowered and practically stripped bare. Now here Alastor was, practically tongue fucking you as you babbled inane strings of words, too overcome with pleasure to form coherent sentences. Something had to give.

A shadowy tendril materialised to toy with your clit, circling the bundle of nerves and gently teasing it, making your breath hitch, fingers buried in tendrils of silky hair as tears brimmed at the corner of your eyes at such pleasurable sensations.

You were done for.

There was no way you could handle this for much longer.

Alastor’s tongue twisted and turned, practically making love to your walls while the tendril played with your clit, both coaxing you into the first orgasm of the night, a cry ripping from your throat as your thighs clamped around the Radio Demon’s head as you came on his tongue.

Your vision swam with stars, and you couldn’t hear clearly, almost as if you were underwater as the pleasurable tingles swept through your body, your hips bucking uselessly as you rode out your orgasm, Alastor's tongue continuing to lap at and coax your pussy into another rippling orgasm, your juices gushing onto his tongue.

Eventually, you came down from your high, releasing the demon from the almost constrictive grasp your thighs had on him as you fought to catch your breath. Alastor didn’t seem to mind too much, resting his head on your thigh and pressing soothing kisses to the nips and bites he’d left littered on your inner thighs, grinning up at you with remnants of your juices running down his chin.

That was so hot.

He moved to hover above you, pressing a sinful kiss to your lips, tenderly cupping your jaw as you parted your lips at his gentle probing, his tongue immediately invading your mouth and dancing with yours, making you taste your release on his talented tongue. You dripped at the taste and the sinful act of this sticky, cum-filled kiss.

Reluctantly, you pulled away, gasping and clutching onto him like a lifeline, your head swimming with what had just happened and all these new sensations, though Alastor didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seemed a little too smug at having been the first to give you an orgasm, and such a stellar one at that.

“Well, I’d say you enjoyed that as much as I did,” he hummed out, and you made a noise of agreement, too dazed to properly answer him. “Are you ready for the main event, sweetling?”

You looked up at him, seeing only lust and desire swimming in his darkened eyes, and timidly nodded.

He gently pushed you down, moving back to admire you, and it was only then that you noticed the tent in his trousers, with a wet patch staining the front. Had this man truly cum at the taste of you? You were too concerned with other matters to think more, your eyes fixed fearfully on his bulge that was straining against the expensive fabric of his trousers.

Alastor didn’t seem to notice your concern as he stripped, and you swallowed nervously, only now registering how tall he was. Not only did he overpower you with his immense shadow and tower over you like a giant of myth, but his throbbing length pulsed with need, and you knew he wasn’t going to fit.

Alastor was humming as he rubbed his cock, coating it with his precum and seemingly not noticing your concern.

“Al… I don’t think you’re going to fit,” you uttered your concerns in a near whisper. The twitch of the fluffy deer ears atop his head let you know he had heard you, and he chuckled, smugness tinging his laughter. You flushed, not having intended to complement him or stroke his inflated ego.

“It will, my lovely little wife. I’ll make it fit,” he soothed, large hands smoothing up and down your sides comfortingly, “I swore I wouldn’t hurt you, and I don’t intend to do so, especially not on our wedding night. What kind of a husband would I be if I did such a thing?”

His question was rhetorical, but it did quell your concerns a little, and he directed your attention away from his member to his eyes, “I want your eyes on me. Focus on me, sweetness.”

Swallowing nervously, you kept your eyes focused on him, letting him draw you in close to nip at your throat before moving to your lips, humming softly. He was kissing you now, softly and slowly, clawed hands sliding up and down your sides, shadowy tendrils coming to peel away at the little slip you’d put on earlier, tossing it to the other side of the room with no care.

Part of you cringed at such expensive silk being treated that way, though all concerns were thrown away when he palmed your heavy breast and played with the peak, fondling it. At the same time, his lips pulled away from yours as he traced a path of bruising kisses and bites to your other breast, lavishing it with licks and kisses before taking it into his mouth, almost devouring it. Meanwhile, shadowy tendrils toyed with your clit, sending a tremor through you as arousal dripped between your thighs.

Almost reluctantly, he pulled away, red eyes cloudy with lust as he admired the bitemarks and light bruising on your breasts. His gaze met yours, a silent question of “Are you ready?” in his eyes, and you nodded, allowing him to push you back down.

Your fingers grasped the silken sheets below you, eyes closing as you braced yourself, already feeling the heat emanating from his cock as the Radio Demon guided himself between your legs.

It was a good thing that Alastor had prepared you beforehand; otherwise, you wouldn’t have been able to take his length, gasping and instinctively digging your nails into his back, eliciting a hiss from him as tears trickled from your eyes at the foreign feeling of being entered.

Alastor was moving slowly, alternating between hushed praises at how well you were taking him and hisses of how fucking tight you were against your throat as he continued.

“Almost there, my sweet,” he murmured, sharp teeth grazing the juncture between your shoulder and neck, and your fingers tangled in those crimson strands as you held on for dear life while the demon pressed kisses to your throat in an attempt to distract you from the pain. “You’re doing so well.”

His teeth made another appearance by your neck, pressing in and biting down hard, eliciting a cry from you and a moan from him as your sweet blood filled his mouth, eagerly drinking it down and lapping at your wound like some sort of vampire.

What you hadn’t realised was that his bite only distracted you from him bottoming out inside of you, and you stared down at the point where both your body became one, your mind unable to comprehend what had happened.

God damn, he really had made it fit.

Alastor turned your attention back to him as he lapped at your tears, cooing out, “Pretty cry-baby,” as he did so, his cock twitching deep within you. Was he really getting off on your tears?

You didn’t have time to form a smart reply when Alastor rolled his hips, eliciting a moan from you, which you shamefully covered your mouth at, flushing crimson.

“Ah, ah!” he crooned, pulling your hands away from your mouth, “I want to hear every sound from that pretty little mouth of yours. Understand me, sweetling?”

You nodded mutely, making him purr at your compliance, “Shall I begin, my wife?”

“Yes.”

He started slowly, most likely to get you used to his size and these new sensations, which you were very thankful for; his pace only increased when you nodded your assent.

“You’re gorgeous, my little wife,” he praised, gazing down at you with lidded eyes, leaning in to hiss his next few words, “but next time, you won’t be so lucky. I’m going to cover your pretty skin with bites and bruises. Just you wait.”

That sent fire down to your loins, but you wouldn’t let his challenge lay unanswered.

Pulling him in, you nipped at his throat this time, “Who says I won’t be the one to leave you covered in my marks?” you punctuated your “threat” with your own bite to his neck, sending a full-body shudder through the demon as his eyes rolled up in pure pleasure.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, sweetling,” he punctuated his words with a sharp thrust that left you gasping, his shadowy tendrils coming out to fondle and tease your breasts, making your nipples stiffen under their ministrations, while another came to play with your clit once more.

You didn’t bother verbally responding to him, opting to leave another bitemark at the juncture between his shoulder and neck before sucking a bruising hickey on his throat. You’d never done this before but figured that mimicking what Alastor had done earlier was good enough. You seemed to be doing a good job of it since the demon above you moaned wantonly under your ministrations, and his pace increased, practically hammering into your pussy.

At the same time, his tendrils squeezed and kneaded your breasts, and his teeth left more bites on your smooth skin, the sharp pain only enhancing your pleasure as babbles left your lips, your brain once again unable to form a coherent sentence from the pleasure.

“You naughty thing,” he hissed as you left another bite and hickey on his chest, and your mischievous giggles turned to gasps of pleasure when more tendrils attacked your clit, a molten feeling coiling within your belly.

“Al…” you gasped, digging your nails into his back, making him growl, “Al, I think I’m close, I can’t hold on-”

“Then let go, sweet wife, I’ll catch you.”

Despite the roughness of his tendrils practically torturing your clit and breasts and his cock battering your pussy, the gentleness and sincerity of his words were what sent you over the edge, and you bit down on his shoulder as you came again that night; your walls clamping down around his cock.

Alastor fucked you through your orgasm, spurring another out of you as he rammed your oversensitive pussy, making you cry out, gushing around him. It seemed that your orgasms spurred on his own as he relentlessly pounded into you, antlers growing in size before he finally sheathed himself inside you with a groan. A torrent of hot cum painted your insides white, which only spurred on yet another orgasm from your wrecked pussy.

The room was silent, apart from laboured breathing from the two of you as you fought to catch your breath and recover from what had just happened.

Your nails had been raking down his back, but now, you were content to play with the silky strands of his hair as you caught your breath, pouting when he pulled away to lie beside you, slowly removing his cock from your pussy so as not to hurt you in any way.

Your breath hitched in your throat again, seeing his creamy cum ooze from your pussy after he removed himself, his cock seeming to act as a seal to keep it within you, and the demon purred smugly as he watched his release exit your body slowly.

“Well, I think we should both get cleaned up now-”

Alastor moved to leave the bed, but something possessed you to latch onto his wrist, pouting up at him to stay, which he softened at, lying back down, pulling you into his arms and peppering your face with soft kisses.

“You were marvellous, little wife. I hope that I was just as good to you as you were to me.”

Sensing an opportunity to tease him, you shrugged, adopting a bored expression, “You were okay.”

Alastor mock gasped, lightly flicking your nose and making you giggle, “Such rude behaviour… Though if what you say is true, perhaps I should make it up to you with another round later?”

You giggled, lightly swatting at his shoulder, “I’m kidding! You were the best.”

Alastor purred at your praise, chuckling as you yawned, exhaustion suddenly setting in for the first time that night, “you should rest, sweetness. I’ll be here in the morning,”

You hummed, closing your eyes and burying your face into his chest. Your eyes fluttered shut as you listened to his heartbeat.

It was strange to think that Alastor had a heartbeat, but you were glad he did. The rhythmic beats lulled you into a deep sleep as the demon raised your hand to press a kiss to your hand and then to the ring that circled your finger.

His whisper of “Sleep well, my little wife” was the last thing you heard as you fell asleep as his clawed hands stroked through your hair.

.

You had long since fallen asleep, face buried in his chest and legs tangled with his. Bruises and bitemarks began to show up against the colour of your skin, and Alastor took a moment to admire his handiwork.

Your delicate throat, shoulders, thighs, and breasts all had signs of his love bites and nibbles, not to mention the bruising that dappled your skin like delicate splashes of watercolours on a clean canvas.

You were the perfect canvas, and Alastor would forever be your loving artist.

You nuzzled into him, sighing softly in your sleep, and his smile softened. You were so precious, clinging onto him like a favoured plushie, utterly unaware of the darkness belied by his dazzling smile and cheerful demeanour.

Oh, how could he not love you? How could he not adore you? How could he not relish in such a beautiful creature bearing the title of his beloved wife?

Humming, he began to stroke your hair, sinful claws carding through silken tresses while shadowy tendrils dampened a rag and began cleaning the both of you up. It seems that you were quite the cuddler, especially when tired, and who was Alastor to deny you your wants?

What a dreadful husband he’d be to leave you all alone in your marital bed while fetching a damp rag to clean up. No, he was more than willing to put aside his notions of cleanliness and order to hold you all night if you so wished, and by the way you were clinging onto him, it seemed that you did indeed want to cuddle the night away.

Absolutely precious.

Your soft nature only reaffirmed that his actions were correct. You’d be devoured in an instant if he hadn’t been there to protect you, guide you, and corral you into his arms. Such an innocent soul as yours was a commodity in Hell, but you were unique. None had seen such a pure soul down below, and Alastor doubted there would ever be such a heavenly soul like yours in Hell again.

Indeed, it was an easy decision to pursue you, just like other Demons did – each tempting you with treats and wealth and power in exchange for your soul, in exchange for ownership of you, or outright trying to kidnap you from whatever sanctuary you’d managed to find and parade you around as the star of their menagerie or empire, a crowning jewel even…

Alastor didn’t blame the others; you were a diamond in the rough, and his blackened heart quickly fell for you after observing you through his shadows. You were too sweet, soft, and innocent, a true prize primed and ready to be plucked.

Oh, but he’d gotten there first.

The Radio Demon couldn’t help but smirk, twirling locks of your soft hair around deft digits and pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

Alastor hadn’t needed to demand your soul in exchange for protection; he was much more gentlemanly than the other brutes who lusted after you, offering subpar protection for your soul. But Alastor was the right choice; he offered his protection in exchange for your hand in marriage, and while you were… resistant to his efforts and proposal, a quick visit to a jinn under his control dealt with that, prompting your mind to be less resistant to his advances.

Oh, but you fought. He’d seen the tears in your eyes under your pretty veil, the pause in your vows, the slow pace down the aisle… but Alastor finally had you.

And what a pretty bride and prize you made!

All his.

Glancing down, his smirk widened at the scratches he’d left on your thighs while eating you out; the word “Mine” scratched into your pretty skin, but you were too preoccupied to notice it, and he really couldn’t help himself! Yes, you might give him the silent treatment, pout, or throw things when you eventually saw it, but Alastor knew you’d come around.

After all, you were his pretty little wife, and he had all of eternity to coax you into forgiving him.

.

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A/N: this was originally posted on my ao3 account but I'm putting it here too to get some traction - FYI you need an account to read my works

idk if it's clear or not, but Alastor went to a Jinni under his control to use it's magic to make you less resistant to him and the idea of marrying him, but your original feelings kept showing and you kept fighting back, such as the pause during your vows etc. that Alastor mentioned, and why you were warming up to him during and after the NSFW. I think that's the scariest and most yandere thing Yandere!Alastor could do - to use magic to alter/change your mind to be more accepting to him bc initially you were like HELL NAW and mans wasn't about to leave empty handed

I also almost kneed my tattoo artist in the face so that inspired a lil bit of this ejfisgdgejfisgdg0

Lmk what you think!!

Tagging @shade-pup-cub 👀