Barbatos is super cool and elegant but I bet everyone I own that he is the freakiest in bed, the freak of the group wit the sex drive over the moon
Oh, I can totally see that. I think he would be adaptable to whatever his partner wanted. Given the right circumstances, I imagine what he's willing to do to them (and allow them to do to him) can be a little extreme.
There’s different versions of Barbatos that live in my brain, and I love them all.
[Barbatos x gn!Reader, 1.4k words, nsfw. Content warnings: sexual situations including one dub-con scenario at the end.]
I like super soft and sweet Barbatos...
“You don’t have to do this, you know,” you protested gently, even as you sighed and melted against the gentle hands rinsing rose-scented suds off your back.
He shushed you and dipped the washcloth back into the bubbly bath water. “We don’t have many moments like this together. Allow me this chance to be selfish with you, my dear.” He brushed a kiss against your shoulder, and his lips ticked into a gentle smile when you shuddered.
“As long as I’m not taking you away from your other work,” you said softly as you looked at him over your shoulder.
He trailed his wet fingers across your chest and up the delicate skin of your throat. He cradled your jaw and his eyes flicked down to your lips. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be,” he promised before he leaned forward and kissed you. He groaned quietly when your lips slotted against his, and when you pulled away to catch your breath, he licked his lips thoughtfully.
“Want to join me, then?” you asked breathlessly.
He soaked in the sight of your bright eyes and glistening skin, and his eyes trailed down your naked chest. He shook his head and stood up beside the tub. “I have a better idea,” he murmured as he offered you his hand. He helped you from the bath and he reached for the fluffy towel nearby.
You bit your lip when he knelt in front of you and patted your thighs dry with the towel. “You don’t have to do this either,” you said, voice shaky as desire washed over you, but you tangled in his hair when he shuffled closer to you.
He leaned forward and inhaled your natural scent laced with rose, and he sighed with something like contentment as he pressed a kiss to your belly.
“I've wanted to do this all day,” he whispered as he nudged your thighs apart and settled between them. He leaned forward and teased your arousal with his tongue, and when your legs started to shake, he curled his hands around your hips to steady you.
...and I like desperate and dirty Barbatos...
"Wait, what if–oh, fuck–what if someone hears us?"
You were bent over a side table in an empty lounge not far from the ballroom where tonight's festivities were being held. When Barbatos appeared and quietly asked for a moment of your time, you thought he wanted to chat, or perhaps steal a kiss in private. You didn't expect him to pull you into an empty room and tug at your dress clothes. He maneuvered you against the tabletop and moved your underwear aside so he could stretch you open with his slick, greedy fingers.
He hummed in agreement. "You're right, my love. You're far too noisy," he chided you as he slipped in a third finger and stroked over the soft, spongy spot buried deep inside you. He smirked when you bit your lip to silence the surprised moan that tumbled from your lips.
"I can't–please–" your cheek was squished against the cool wooden table, and you panted even as his wicked fingers sent jolts of pleasure shooting through you.
Something cool and wet flicked against the corner of your mouth, and you opened your lips obediently as one of the forks of his tail prodded for entrance. You moaned around the tip and sucked. He squeezed your hip approvingly and you felt lightheaded from his silent praise.
"Perhaps keeping your mouth full will help, hm?" He pulled his fingers from your body and swatted the swell of your ass when you whined pathetically around the appendage dancing along your tongue. He repositioned behind you and flicked open his fly so he could pull out his cock.
You closed your eyes as the soft, buttery leather gloves he wore spread your thighs wider for him. Heat bloomed in your cheeks when he stood there, silent and unmoving, and you knew he was staring at you.
He watched your greedy hole flutter around the blunt head of his cock, and he rubbed across your entrance without slipping inside. His self-control started to fray at the seams when you wiggled your hips invitingly and brushed back against him. You bit the tip of his tail, too–not hard, but with enough pressure to get his attention–and he groaned.
You cheeky little thing.
He snarled and pulled your hips back onto his cock as he bullied inside you with one rough stroke. He leaned over your back and growled in his chest, low and deep, and he started to thrust as his tail muffled your cries.
...and I like creepy and morally bankrupt Barbatos, too. (I like him so much, I wrote a series about him.)
Barbatos waited patiently outside the guest chambers you were given for tonight's overnight stay at the castle. He wasn't sure how long the tea would take to work, and he was so eager to–
A confused moan from within your room caught his attention, and he tempered the eager smile that threatened to bloom across his face. He shuffled his feet so you would hear the sound of footsteps near your door, and he knocked twice before stepping inside hesitantly.
"I beg your pardon, but I heard a noise as I walked past." He noticed your confused expression, the beads of sweat that were dotting along your brow, and the way your hands clenched the sheets of your bed.
You shook your head and whimpered. "I don't–I don't know, I started feeling sick all of a sudden? I feel so hot, and–" your quivering voice trailed off into a moan and you winced with embarrassment.
He stepped closer to you and he could practically taste the pheromones your body was pumping into the air. He's glad he gave you this room, further away from the others, at the end of a long hallway where no one but him would have reason to pass.
He pulled off his gloves and slipped them into his pocket. You fixated on his bare hands and he felt primal satisfaction swell inside him when your eyes shone with unabashed lust.
"I'm here," he murmured with false sympathy as he cupped your cheek with his palm.
Compared to your burning-hot skin, his hands felt cool and dry and you nuzzled into the touch with a sigh. You were mindless except for the desire churning in your belly. When you rubbed your thighs together, you felt how wet your underwear was from the arousal leaking from you.
He stroked your face gently. "Do you want my help?" He could sense you were so close to giving in.
You peered up into his face, you dark and half-lidded eyes glistening with tears and pleading for his help. You choked as another cramp between your legs made you gasp, and you nodded your head instead.
Even in your compromised state, you felt a moment of relief. You trusted him. You rolled over and rubbed your hips pitifully against the sheets looking for some sort of friction. You knew he was watching, but you didn't care. Nothing else mattered except the sudden urge to be taken. The hot evidence of your arousal leaked freely between your legs and soaked the sheets underneath you.
He looked on curiously as you desperately attempted to soothe the fire raging inside you. He knew your efforts would fail; the sickness plaguing you won't be satisfied by your own hand or clumsy movements. Nothing can help you now, nothing except his cock buried deep inside you and marking you with his scent and seed.
He sat on the edge of the bed beside you and lowered his head. "Tell me what you want," he whispered into your ear.
You shuddered when his hot breath tickled the sensitive skin of your neck. "Need you, inside, I need it –please?" you babbled while you continued rocking uselessly against the mattress.
"As you wish," he murmured darkly. He couldn't hide the victorious smirk that curled his lips–the potion he stirred into your tea this evening worked better than he could've imagined.
He started unbuttoning his shirt and he teased you, slowly revealing inch after inch of pale skin to your burning gaze. When was finally naked, he lowered himself to the bed and rolled you onto your back. He was too impatient to be gentle, and he knew you were too. He tore your clothes to shreds until your heaving chest and soft belly and bare thighs were exposed to him. He roamed your skin greedily with his hands and his cock throbbed when you arched into his touch.
Another ripple of painful need tore through you, and you nearly sobbed from being so painfully empty. He hushed you as he covered your body with his own. You whimpered his name when he positioned himself between your trembling thighs, and the beast inside him howled as he crushed his lips to yours.
Taglist: @your-next-daydream, @mithrakira @l-d-8 @lemonivall @meggsngrits @catching-cloudzzz @flemmingbamse
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see what had happened was..mama cloud was gonna go to bed,,,but can we please talk about skinny emo boys for a minute-
he sits in the corner in a mall, head down, headphones covering his ears, hood up with a glare n a scowl on his face?? yeah him.
he's so distant and looks like he doesn't want to be bothered until he sees you n all your soft, plump glory. his pale face starts to go red and he could swear that his pupils are forming heart as he watches you walk through to the various shops. boy is infatuated <3
he doesn't even say hello. he's just rushing home, trying his best to hide his painfully obvious hard-on from any eyes that aren't yours. his pants flying off as soon as he gets through the front door n locking it behind him.
he's tugging down his boxers n pulling out his leaking cock with the vivid memory of your supple body n cute ass to guide him, jacking himself off right where he stood, all red-faced n needy for more.
soon, his hand isn't enough and he's rushing to his room rummaging through his toys to find his onahole, but it's still not enough!! he needs you, he needs your weight pressed against his thinner body, holding him in place while you use him like a living dildo.
he needs your thick thighs wrapped around his head, on his shoulders, twitching n shuddering for him while he fingers n sucks on your most sensitive areas. please please crush his head with your thighs.
if he dies, he dies <3
soon even the onahole isn't enough, and he resorts to folding the heaviest pillow he owns over his cock to fuck into with the now dripping onahole still being impaled.
the softness doesn't even begin to compare to how he thinks you'd feel around him. it's not warm like you. it's not telling him what a good boy he is for filling you up so well. it's not tugging at his hair n scratching up his back out of pleasure. it's not you.
he's a red mess now, mouth wide open n releasing his loud n whiny moans while he fucks the makeshift doll in doggystyle, leaning over it and gripping when he imagines would be your wider hips under him.
he's completely lost in ecstasy when he finally cums into the onahole, tears of pleasure rolling down his flushed cheeks and howling out his release. pulling out of the onahole a thick trail of his cum spills out with it, and his face flushes all over again.
ohh if only you were really here to tell him to mount n breed you again~
was absolutely thinking of sebastian from stardew valley btw. on almost all my playthroughs ive married him n i love it??? that emo boy can cum in me anytime <3 -☁️
kylar from degrees of lewdity as well- horny loner types are just my shit rn hah☁️
Heyo! I hope you're doing well! For the new NSFW asks, how about 39: "do you have a mommy kink", "no", "do you want one?" with leonardo, I've been waiting for a mommy kink with leonardo so I figured now would be a good time to ask lol 😂
Y’all heathens have to reignite my “Leo Has A Mommy Kink” debate.
So yes of course I can.
Rated Explicit (18+ only)
There are several aspects about Leo’s life that he quite enjoys keeping private.
You don’t earn the nickname Honor Boy without exactly living up to it. So naturally he doesn’t go about voicing things that needn’t concern his chatty brothers and their abilities for dumb nicknames.
It just doesn’t concern them that he’s, well he’s not the purest of the bunch. So what he likes to blow off steam and said steam requires particular things for it to be blown off. Nobody needs to know how much he’s read up on rope play and shibari (it’s artistic he swears) and nobody needs to know that his own internet history searches could rival that of Donnie.
And nobody needs to know that he may have a slight, tiny, minuscule, itty bitty mommy kink.
He feels his neck already all hot and sweaty when it comes to you, so it was quite uncalled for (in his mind) for you to talk kinks with him one late night in his room. Because contrary to Donnie who isn’t ashamed of his likes, Leo is still working through that. He doesn’t know how exactly to voice it, he isn’t stoked about sitting down with Donnie (who would be the most understanding) because he’s a little repressed to this day.
But you’re much more open, shameless and so nonchalant about it. He quite envies it to be honest, how you can laugh and giggle your way through a list you found online and have been reading to him about kinks.
And yes Leo’s laughed too, some of them sound so bizarre and not in the least bit appealing.
And yes he’s tried not to look too shameful about knowing some that you’ve never heard of.
“People really make a kink for anything, I bet there’s somebody right now inventing a new one” You scrolled on your phone, grinning when you landed on one in particular you knew all too well. You sat up a little straighter on Leo’s bed and cleared your throat.
“Daddy kink? Does is spark joy or not?” You gave your best game show voice and Leo shook his head with a chuckle. “I dunno, not really, there’s better authoritative names” He clears his throat, trying not to allude too much to what would end him if a girl ever said it to him.
“I suppose you’re on to something there, I’m either or, maybe in the heat of the moment who knows” You do notice that some of these have probably hit home for him, he had been a little more talkative before but as the list progressed, the more shy he got.
Something about that makes you so astonishingly delighted.
“Once a guy called me Mommy and I have to say, awakened something in me” You studied his reaction, Leo swallowed and did not in anyways let his eye stray towards you.
Oh boy.
“Do you have a mommy kink?” You flat out asked him, grinning. Leo kept his eyes anywhere but on you.
“No” With just a little more conviction he could’ve made it believable the poor soul.
“Do you want one?” You ask him with every seductive incentive that only serves for Leo to swallow.
You sit up on your knees and rest your hands on his shoulders, Leo can’t really stay with his eyes glued to one of his bonsais forever, so he caves.
Oh god does he cave.
“What’s wrong sweet boy?” You coo at him, hands running up his hot neck and resting on his cheeks. “Is my precious little boy embarrassed?” You caress his cheek, even going so far as to adjust his mask and Leo feels like he’s going to scream because blood rushing to places it shouldn’t right now.
“It’s ok, mommy’s goodest boy doesn’t have to be embarrassed about anything, yeah?” And you have to bite your lip from smiling so much when Leo honest to god shakes his head at your inquiry. You thumb his bottom lip and lean in close enough to feel his warm breath. “Have you been good? Have you been the most good boy for me?” You watch his tongue dart out to lick his dry lips as he nods.
The surge of power that shoots through your veins, it was definitely something you us become a fan of. But Leo’s reaction had been way more entertaining than that of your old flame. Your eyes landed on his lap, clearly this had pulled a very interesting reaction out of him. “Tsk tsk, did I say you could get excited?” You chastised him, tapping his lips with your finger.
How the night shifted to this was beyond Leo, he was lost in the mood, in the heat behind your words and there was no way he could stop his cock from filling up due to it. A part of him wanted to be embarrassed, he considers himself such a strong willed person, not easily cracked but yet here you were making putty out of him with such sweet words. You leaned in, voice a whisper. “Are you okay with this? Want me to stop?” You wanted to check in after all, but you would not continue if this was overstepping any boundaries with him.
Leo took a shuddering breath.
“No...mommy”
You bit the inside of your cheek, that shouldn’t have made you so hot. With a soft fingertip to the middle of his plastron, you followed a path downwards toward his already tenting shorts. You heard him gulp and once your hand was inside you gripped him with every intention of making squirm.
And messy.
Because Leo has to appreciate some messes.
“You’re such a good boy, my good blue boy” You jerked his cock slowly, each pump deliberate with the goal of hearing him struggle to autores a noise. A strong hand found your thigh and gripped it, several choked moans and whines escaping him. Pressing your lips to his cheek you hushed him, you kissed the spot just as you began to speed up your movements. Leo’s hips wanted to buck up into your tight grip, he felt your lips travel towards his ear and a smug tone that only served to make his cock leak. “Who has a mommy kink after all?” Oh he would’ve crawled into a hole and the way you giggled only made the situation worse.
He felt himself cum without warning, which only made the situation even more amusing for you, some of it shot up towards your shirt as you kept pumping. Leo didn’t even know if he could muffle his sounds more by. “Messy messy, you ruined mommy’s shirt” You grinned, still lazily stroking him as he slumped back against the pillows. His soft blue eyes found yours, if he could turn red he would’ve been by, you leaned down and kissed him.
As you pulled away, Leo gently reached for your stained hand and brought it towards his lips.
“May I clean my mess up...mommy?”
You bit down on your bottom lip and nodded.
Oh this would be such a fun new thing for the two of you and even as Leo (embarrassed to high end but still greatly enjoying himself) licked your fingers and palm of his own cum, he knew as well that maybe sharing his likes wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Okay but miscommunication trope is only super yummy when there’s a happy ending. Liiiike reader thinking they’re getting kicked out of their relationship in the fruity four, they’re not wanted anymore, maybe even bring replaced (ie with someone like Chrissy), and so every little sarcastic quip or ignoring is seen by them as the others not loving them anymore 🥺. Until one day it all comes crumbling down and I can’t decide with is more angsty, you breaking down telling the others they don’t love you anymore, or you trying to be brave by announcing you’re leaving and the fours hearts just dropping as they try to scramble to convince you to stay and why?! Why are you leaving!?!?! Please! But of course, happy ending when everything’s properly explained and angel is reassured they could never all fall out of love with them ❤️
oh.......miscommunication trope, you say? >:)
(cws: fruity four, gn!angelface, jealousy, post-s4, PTSD, huge miscommunication trope, domestic arguing, you have a tattoo + kinda shitty parents + bad home life, chrissy's a jealousy target, breakups, jopper appearance, you're childhood friends with jonathan, mentions of grief, an almost car crash, very mild head trauma, crying, angst with a happy ending--stick with me angels!)
Sometimes you wish Chrissy would just disappear. Just--poof--and she'd be gone.
It's awful of you to think, but you can't help it. She's just always around, ever since her breakup with Jason she's been by the house much more frequently. You were happy for her at first, because you liked her up until then, and she's always been nice to you. Plus, your partners saved her life back when all that crazy stuff with the Upside Down happened, an event you weren't privy to until after the fact, when you started dating them.
But she's always on Eddie, always chatting him up, always giggling at his attempts to cheer her up, and now she's attracted the attention of your other partners too. They're good friends, and that's good, but....why can you not shake this feeling that there's something more going on? That the arm touches over his jacket and the inside jokes aren't as friendly and harmless as they want you to think?
It's worse than that, though. The honeymoon phase is clearly over--cause all four of them just brush off your concerns, insisting that you're overreacting or just not addressing them at all. So you haven't been piping up when a joke hurts your feelings, and you've bitten your tongue when one of them has to reschedule something you've planned, and it's gotten to the point that they've wondered why you're so quiet all of a sudden. Why would they care? You think with a sour feeling in the back of your throat, rubbing the tattoo on your arm that Eddie gave you and wondering if that was just practice for someone else. You're not oblivious to the way Chrissy is slowly being invited into gatherings and dinners with everyone.....just like you were in the beginning. And after an especially heated fight with both Eddie and Robin, the worst one you've ever gotten into in your entire relationship, he got so pissed off that he just told you not to come to the dinner they had planned, and they'd take someone who actually wanted to go.
That was a couple days ago, and the air in the house has been strained for nobody else but you. You're equally as hurt by Eddie yelling at you as Robin silently going along with it, even though you slammed your bedroom door in her face when she tried to follow you, and waited until Eddie tugged her along to leave before you allowed yourself to cry. You're sick of the feeling that none of them really care for you, that you've been demoted to a piece of furniture in the house, because they've clearly lost interest. And they don't care when your things start disappearing from the house, when the clothes in your closet start dwindling, leaving behind nothing but the ones they've bought for you--no, they'd rather moon over Chrissy fucking Cunningham, and you've just taken all you think your heart can handle.
"I'm going out!" You call into the house from the front door, without any of their four voices responding. When you sigh, turn, and step out to turn the corner of the house, though, you bump right into one of them.
"Oh! Hey, baby." Steve steps back and readjusts the paper bag full of groceries he's got his arm around, keys halfway tucked into his pocket. "Where you off to?"
"Um....just, uh, gonna go visit my parents." You weren't really expecting him to pry, with how in your head you've been lately. But you're not gonna relent just cause one of the people who promised he'd love you forever, yet somehow can't be fucked enough to find the time to even watch a movie with you, asked you a question that remotely shows an ounce of concern.
"Your parents?" He blinks, shifting again to rest the bag on his hip. "You sure?"
That tone is so irritating. You used to love that almost parental sense of duty, the desire of his to know every detail of every problem so he can solve it. But now, you just feel suffocated, even though you're more distant from all of them now than you've ever been. "What, I'm not allowed to see my family?"
"Hey, that's not what I said! hold on," He moves to put the groceries inside, but you wave him off and start walking past him, your tone clearly frustrated as you encourage him to just forget it. But, in a tizzy, Steve hurriedly sets the bag down on the ground and runs to catch up with you, his hand descending on your arm only to be swatted away--but not for long, when he grabs it again and grips it tighter as he turns you to face him. "Jesus, wait! What's the big fuss? Did I do something?"
"Let me go, Steve." You refuse to look him in the eyes, but you can't break his grip. Why can't he just let it go, so it's less painful? "I don't wanna drag this out."
"Drag what out?" Finally, it dawns on him as his eyes dart from the keys clenched in your hand to the windows of your car parked in the driveway, boxes clearly piled up in the trunk and in the backseat that none of them seemed to notice you moving.
".....So that's it? You're breaking up with us?" Steve says it with disbelief, like he's expecting you to say something or anything different. It's almost a little satisfying when you respond in the way he never could have expected, even though he should've by now. Even though it feels bitter on your tongue as soon as it comes up.
"You know what? Yes. That's exactly it." You finally wrench your arm out of his grip, and each of those words sting as they come out, but you won't cry, you refuse to cry in front of Steve today. "I'm leaving tonight, and I'm never coming back to Hawkins again."
"Why?"
"Ask your new girlfriend."
"Who? Wait--Chrissy?" He shakes his head, and what comes out next is more cruel than you wanted to be--but he just won't get it, it won't happen unless you make them realize why they don't want you anymore.
"Wow, the jock has a brain! Well done, Stevie." He grimaces at once, and god, you wish it would all stuff itself back into your throat.
"What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you being such a-"
"I know you're in love with her, Steve! For fuck's sakes, I'm not as stupid as you think I am!" You shout into the broken silence of the front lawn, wishing from the deepest reaches of your heart that this could all just be a horrible nightmare. Not reality. You don't want to be facing those big, soft eyes of Steve staring back at you in shock and pain, so you just turn your head and hope he doesn't see how much you're shaking.
"I get it, okay?! She's prettier than me, and nicer, and she doesn't have my fucking issues--and you guys clearly like her. It's like I don't even exist when she's around." You move aside to gesture towards your car, keys clutched in your hand so they won't fall or get taken from you, because you know Steve is reckless when he's upset. "None of you even noticed I was packing. Nancy fucking helped me put a box in yesterday."
Just then, both your heads turn at the sound of a car approaching--and just in time, you realize it's Eddie, his van's tires crunching the gravel of the long driveway as he pulls up to a stop beside your car. And lo and behold, sitting in the front seat with a smile on her face is her. Chrissy waves to you through the window, and as if your heart isn't in the process of shattering into shards that dig into your lungs, you raise your hand to acknowledge her back. You turn back to look at Steve one last time. Memorizing his face, because you know you won't ever see him again, as you take a few steps backward and hand him your parting words.
"Don't break her heart, Steve. It sucks."
With that, and with nothing but confliction reflecting back at you on his face, you turn on your heels and make your way around your car, bidding Eddie and Chrissy a stiff goodbye as they get out of the van and you get into your car. You reverse, roll back out of the driveway, and shift gears to start puttering down the road. And as soon as the house is out of your rearview mirror, that's when you feel those tears spilling out that won't stop until well after you pass the Leaving Hawkins sign on the side of the road.
A week into your new start in the city, you haven't gotten any more closure than when you left.
Living with your aunt isn't great, but it's something. The apartment is small, and you still haven't found a new job--you did call the Palace to inform them that you were quitting, though, to which you were greeted with nothing but indifference as you left a message on the answering machine. Figures that nobody in that town would miss me, you think, but you can't dwell on it for too long, because then you'll start thinking of them and it'll have you sobbing into your pillow again. Even worse is that you can't even fully express your pain to your family, your aunt, anybody--because they'll all think you're a freak, and it won't be surprising that your "relationship" ended so badly. You don't even really speak to your parents or your family in the first place, so you can't expect them to show you any sympathy. In fact, if they said anything to you, it would probably be that you should be glad it's over so you can live a normal life.
You don't want normal. You want your Robin talking your ear off about something gross for hours, you want Eddie burping into your ear and laughing, you want Nancy falling asleep on top of you and drooling on your chest, and Steve--you want Steve to come over while you're both on your breaks, talking with his mouth full and stealing bits of your lunch while kissing you in between each bite. You want that love back, you want it so badly it hurts, it hurts your heart every time something reminds you of them.
Maybe that's the worst part. That they don't want that anymore, they want someone that can share those memories with of that terrible tragedy, who knows how they feel and relates to those nightmares that wake them up in a cold sweat, who they can compare scars with and laugh with now that it's all over. They want someone scarred but beautiful, someone perfect, and you can never be that way no matter how hard you try. It explains why you haven't gotten a single phone call, or a letter, or anything since you left, and that treatment extends into your second week in Indy and right into the third. But it doesn't get any less painful, even when you get a job at a convenience store around the corner to busy yourself and help with the rent. Nor when you try going on a date or two, just to spend the whole dinner staring off into space as they talk and wondering what the people you loved are doing right now.
While you're behind the counter at work, your thoughts often drift back to that house by Maple Drive. The path around the back that leads into the woods, where Eddie would take you out for a smoke and to watch the stars for awhile--always with a walkie on hand, just in case, as Steve used to say. The pool that often sits empty, and sometimes you'd look out the window to see Nancy lifting up the cover on it to peek underneath, before breathing a visible sigh of relief and briskly walking away. Sometimes even in the middle of the night, creeping out the sliding glass door in her pajamas. And you remember that bed you often shared with Robin, who gets so clingy when she sleeps....and you wonder if she's sharing it with Chrissy now, if the cheerleader you always thought was such a nice girl is occupying the spot you thought would be yours forever.
Your brow furrows as you stock Camels on the shelf behind the counter, sliding each one into the perfect spot but feeling an itch of irritation when they don't line up. Is Eddie holding her right now? Is he coming up behind her every morning, and nuzzling his nose into her cheek as she stirs milk into her coffee? Is Nancy cuddling her and chatting her up about whatever project she has going on right now? Is Steve picking up her bag, and insisting she let her boyfriend hold the heavy stuff while she sits and looks pretty? They probably are. And they're probably much happier doing it with her, than they ever were with you.
Something thuds on the counter behind you, and you sigh without a sound as the gruff voice at your back asks for a pack while you're at it. Your fist squeezes around the box you've got in hand, and when you turn on your heels to toss it on to the tabletop and reach for the scanner, your eyes widen, and so do the ones on the moustached man that's towering in front of you with a petite woman at his side.
"Hop?"
You breathe out the name, trying to regain yourself as quick as you can--you're pretty used to keeping your tears back now, adjusted to having a straight face so nobody will pry or prod for your feelings. The former sheriff of your hometown that you used to duck out of sight from, laughing and hiding your goods with Eddie right behind you, is standing at your counter with a shocked expression, along with Joyce Byers who seems just as surprised to see you here. And with little else you can think of, you clear your throat and try to crack that tense silence.
"Uh...so, you two on vacation, or someth-"
"Are you fucking with me?"
Hopper cuts you off, hands bracing the edge of the counter as he looks you up and down, the two glass bottles of Coke getting shoved aside by him to fall over and roll across the counter as he reaches across the barrier to grab your arm. Without much struggle, because you have no clue what's going on, you allow the older man to yank your wrist up and turn it over, Joyce hurriedly pushing up your sleeve with her gaze pinned to your skin, like she's desperately searching for something that has nothing to do with your confused questions spilling out on top of each other.
When they've finally uncovered that patch of skin they were looking for, the two of them share a look between themselves, before finally looking back up to acknowledge how baffled and worried you are. It isn't until you scan down to see what they found that the pieces start coming together, the black ink of the tattoo Eddie gave you when you first started dating peeking out at you. It's just a thin, mid-sized black circle on your inner forearm, with five points reaching outward like a sun. But the detail of it has always enchanted you, Eddie's diligent stare as he inked it into your skin burned into your mind. You've considered getting it covered since then, but....you can't bring yourself to do it yet.
"I'll call it in," Hopper says cryptically, stepping back and turning away to bring out the walkie from his belt and start mumbling into it. In the meanwhile, you're left with his partner, and the lady you've practically grown up with since she babysat you a long time ago. You often forget that time, when you and Jonathan would run around her backyard with sticks and rocks to try and build your own castle, while his baby brother watched from the stairs and giggled at your antics. You were so young, and so carefree, it seemed....but it was a happy time, one of few before you met those four.
"Honey, you're alright?" Joyce's voice quivers, anxious for the answer, but you nod as soon as her question registers because you hate to see her like this.
"Ye...Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" She circles round the counter, coming right in for a hug that you return without question. The squeeze is tight, like a mother's embrace upon returning home from a long time away, and you instantly feel a pinch of guilt for neglecting to include her in your plan to leave Hawkins. Now that you think about it, you really didn't tell anyone, except....
"-Kid, relax, we're coming there. No, do not get in your car, sit your ass down so you're there when we get back! Jesus," Hop gets more animated as he talks over the channel, and your hug splits as your head swivels towards the sound of a familiar voice through the static. Steve.
"Are they there? Let me talk to them! Please, Hopper, let me hear their voice-"
It's so frantic, desperate. The first time you've heard one of their voices in what feels like your whole life, and you have to struggle not to cave, bringing a shaky hand up over your mouth as you whisper a "What's going on?" to Joyce. And with your ears perked up, you can distinguish the background noise in the transmission--there are three other distinct voices, talking just as fearfully amongst themselves as they also try to get through to Hop. Nancy, Eddie, and Robin, each with as much indignation as Steve, who must be holding the other walkie.
"We're coming down right now, kid. Just try to calm down in the meantime." With that, Hopper shuts the antenna and gestures for you to follow him, the sweet woman at your side holding your arm as you obey him, like she's afraid you'll vanish if she lets go. You're led out of the light of the fluorescent bulbs overhead to Hop's truck parked by the curb--you at least have the sense to fumble with your keys and lock the front door before you leave--you let him open the door and sit yourself in the backseat, and shakily buckle yourself in as they get in front with promises to explain everything. Still struck dumb with shock to the point that it hasn't really registered that you just left work in the middle of your shift.
But you get an idea of what's happening when you turn your head, and catch a glimpse of a scattered stack of papers on the seat beside you out of your peripheral. Tentatively, as Hop starts up the ignition, your fingers brush over one of the nearest pages--and when you lift it up to survey it closer, the two of them notice you and share another sobering look between them. What's staring back at you is undeniably, unmistakably, a missing person's ad. And the picture is one you recognize immediately, because it's yours. Your photo, details of your last sighting, a description of your tattoo, a list of things for people to look out for....
"You really worried everyone back home, kid."
Suddenly, a bitterness rises up inside you, and the paper crumples slightly as you realize what's really happening. "I'm fine. I just...decided to get out of Hawkins."
"Yeah, well, maybe tell your roommates that, first."
"Hop-"
"They didn't care! I told Steve anyways, so what's the big fucking deal?" Even though Joyce flinches at you raising your voice, you can't be quiet right now. Anger is something you've been almost too numb to endure these last few weeks, but now you could just put your fist straight through Hopper's window--they put up such a fuss for what? To drag you back to that shitty inbred town in the sticks, just to make sure they didn't want you in the first place? It's bullshit.
"They sure as shit care!" Hop shouts right back, casting his signature scowl over his shoulder as he drives through semi-empty streets. It's so late, and so dark, it's unlikely there'll even be many pedestrians. "Do you realize how many times Nancy Wheeler has shown up on my doorstep, begging me to go on another search and rescue for you?! They're worried sick!"
"Why?"
There's silence for awhile, very tense silence, before you repeat your question that says much more than just that one word.
"....Because they thought you were gone. They thought you were there."
There. That's what he means--the other world, the Upside Down. The place you've never seen, only heard horror stories about and snatches of descriptions of when you comforted one of them during a night terror. The missing people, the murders, the experiments....they're all so hard to believe, but then again, you can't deny Will's remarkable return from the dead or Barbara Holland's coverup death, both of which you've been close enough to to know that there's no way they're just elaborate lies.
So they were worried you had died. That your disappearance wasn't of your own volition. They're going to be in for an unfortunate surprise, but by the tightly shut locks on Hopper's truck doors, you know there's no getting out of this until he brings you right back to drop you in their laps.
"We came here to look for you. Your mom finally told us you had an aunt in the city." Joyce offers you another piece to the puzzle, but your mind is still stuck on the fact that your ex-partners seemed so desperate over the walkie. They....they wouldn't want you to die, but that doesn't mean they want you. Figures that your parents would make it more difficult for two of the only people that even remotely have any concern for you too, they're probably profiting off all that glorious attention of having a missing child.
"I have a life here, now. I don't want to go back." Lies. You know it's all lies.
"Listen, kid, whatever happened with your friends, I promise it's not worth throwing in the towel. You've gotta see things through." Clearly it's not worth an argument, you'd rather save your energy at this point. You're gonna need plenty to face that hard conversation you know is coming, when you're gonna have to confirm to them directly that you're moving on. No more running away, or hiding from the problem. You have to face it.
"You don't know anything about me, or them."
The already long drive drags on even longer in the silence that follows, and you make a mental note to call your aunt when they get you back to Hawkins, so she doesn't freak out when she comes home to an empty apartment. You can imagine your manager's gonna call and cuss you out before firing you for leaving the store unattended, too, and you groan and let your head hit the seat behind you. Now you're gonna have to find another job, gonna have to explain to your aunt what you did....or maybe she won't even notice your absence, not until someone makes a fuss about it.
Your mind is left racing with so many thoughts and worries that the scenery passes by without note, the moon barely shining any light on the landscape, like it's all one huge plain with little dots for buildings and trees. Like one big hellscape, but it's numb and frozen over with nothing left but a mocking echo of the world that's no longer here. You don't even really recognize your surroundings until a couple hours have passed, and the Welcome To Hawkins sign zips by and has you sitting up in your seat. Just as you pass it, though, you think you see the glimmer of another set of headlights, a rarity on these quiet streets--and then your whole world shifts violently.
"Shit!" Hop curses as he swerves suddenly, and Joyce shrieks as you all nearly careen off the road and into the ditch, your head cracking against the window and bouncing off for you to clutch at it in pain. A groan is all you can get out when he calls back to you, the dizzy feeling making you a little sick, but as you lift your head and the truck rolls to a stop, you spot the culprit of that downright suicidal speed driving that nearly caused a head-on collision.
Your heart is pierced with a deep chill immediately. You'd recognize that van anywhere, and that curly mane of hair as the driver stumbles out his door even moreso. He's not hurt, just dazed--and for the moment, your brain doesn't immediately go to the question of why you should even care. As he stands there in the road, in the dark, Eddie's form is lit up by the headlights still shining without a flicker, but he doesn't flinch even when it must be glaring directly into his eyes, just holds a hand up to block it out. And when they meet yours as you lean over the console to see him, he doesn't wait a second, hurrying around the passenger's side of the truck to fumble for the handle of your door. With a click, and the light above you switching on as a beeping starts to emit from the vehicle, Eddie's suddenly cramming himself into the backseat with you--and there's tears already wetting his cheeks as he grabs you in a hug, gasping in a shaky lungful of breath like he's shocked he's really touching you. Crying and mumbling into your hair, Eddie buckles when you squeeze him back, falling victim to that desire in the deepest part of your soul that just wanted to hold him again.
"I didn't mean it, I didn't mean it baby, I didn't--everything I said, I swear, I was being such a fucking moron-" He starts babbling from nowhere, and his voice itself is a comfort, having not heard it next to your ear for so long that it aches now.
"Eddie-"
"You're mine, okay?! You're my everything!" He cries, burying his face even deeper into your neck and inhaling whatever scent he can get. You're stunned into staying limp, letting his hands grab and squeeze at you wherever they land--his curly hair tickles your cheek and sticks to it, and that sensation alone drags tears up to the surface, only allowing them to spill when you hear him whispering those croaked pleas of "I love you, I love you, I love you" until you're crying right along with him. It's been so long since you heard it, you'd started believing it was never really true.
It takes minutes that feel like hours for you to both calm down enough to look at each other, your face cradled in Eddie's rough hands as he sniffles and murmurs a "You're so beautiful" so innocently sincere, that it instantly makes you wish you had never left. He smiles, and the world that seems so dark grows a little brighter around you. You're not even privy to the looks Joyce and Hopper are giving each other in the front seat, clearly a little surprised at the passion you two share that nobody else has ever seen. But they know. And when Eddie starts pulling you out of your seat with the promise to take you back, Hop only reminds him to drive safely before he allows you two to shut the truck's door and circle round the vehicle with Eddie's arm clinging to your waist. The air hits you, cool and dry, just like it always is in Hawkins. And when he opens your door for you and waits for you to clamber in, before getting in on the other side and fumbling contently with his keys, you're not sure you really know what to expect. He briefly elaborates that he'd gotten worried, and that he's just glad he spotted Hop's truck before he'd sped all the way out of Hawkins and missed you--but it doesn't last, because soon he's grabbing your thigh and sighing out a breath of relief.
"We'll talk about everything when we get home. For now, I just want to hold you." Eddie offers his hand to you, giving it a grateful squeeze when you slip yours into it and interlace your fingers together.
They'll all hate me for real, this time.
That's exactly how the drive goes, Eddie's shoulders relaxed even as he steers with one hand, and navigates while stealing glances over at you with relief written all over his face, and brings your hands up to kiss your knuckles every so often. But he's just one. The other three....your heart sinks as you run over that last conversation you had with Steve, the way you'd ignored Robin completely, and how you pretended everything was absolutely fine with Nancy up until the moment you left. And it somehow dawns on you only then--they thought you were gone, that you had been taken to the Upside Down, and your heart sinks as you watch the trees pass by in clusters while that dread creeps closer down the road that's so familiar.
Not even the comforting warmth of Eddie's hand could drive that thought out of your mind, even less so when he turns and you hit that patch of gravel that leads up the driveway. He'll stop soon, and you'll be facing the music....and when Eddie shifts into park, you sort of float from your seat to the walkway where you threw your feelings back into Steve's face, and up towards the front door that Eddie opens for you before you cross the threshold into the house. It does feel like home, and you don't want to lose it right on the welcome mat, so you blink away any tears that threaten to spill before you quietly follow him into the living room.
Three heads turn to look your way, too inundated in conversation around the coffee table to hear the door opening, but that stops the second their eyes land on you. Steve and Robin are the ones sitting closest to where you stand, but Nancy's the one that makes her way to you first, her lower lip already quivering enough to break into a sob as she crosses the patch of carpet to throw her arms around you. She's strong enough to grip you tight enough to hurt, but too weak to keep herself on her feet, and you end up sinking to the floor with her as your name floods out of her lungs on repeat, getting louder and louder and louder until she's wailing. You could swear the walls rattle with the volume she cries at, completely coming apart in your arms like you've never seen her do before.
"Don't you ever do that to me again!" She shouts, yet her voice is like a child's, wobbling and whiny and so miserably pitiful that it pains you even to listen to it, especially when she's clutching you so close to her body--so afraid that you won't be there when she pulls away, so she refuses to. You don't have any right to cry when she's so distraught, but with your head over her shoulder, the other two watch your lips curve downwards and your eyes screw shut into a flood of tears that won't stop easily.
"I'm sorry, Nancy. I'm okay." You whimper, burying your face into her curls until your lips brush her jawline, and she shudders into each gentle, praiseworthy kiss that you press there. Up until her sobs subside, and she breaths a sigh of relief that you can feel from her chest against yours, each one sinking and rising into each other as you breathe along with her. "I thought you didn't want me anymore."
She shakes her head, and finally pulls herself back to look at you, a fresh wave of tears streaming down her cheeks when she gets a good look at you. Nancy touches your face, thumbs away your own tears--and you know she's not just looking at you, but the girl she lost so long ago, whose smile she sees in yours on those days she misses her the most dearly. "I never wanted you more when I thought you weren't coming back," She whispers back. "How could I not want you? I love you."
The kiss she lays upon your lips is breathtaking, shaking and sweet and just....everything. Everything you missed and craved like air and water and life.
You're already halfway into her embrace when she laughs out that half-hearted joke, walking back with you a couple steps when you throw yourself into it. And she squeezes you so tight, so hard, the kisses a flurry of needy, fluttering touches all over your face until she somehow finds your lips--and when she does, she makes that last one a kiss you won't shake off for days, the feeling tingling your lips even when she pulls away. Still rubbing that spot on your back that she knows is sensitive, Robin grips you in an even harder hug that nearly cracks your spine, and whispers into your ear: "I'm so happy you're here with me." before she kisses you one last time, last one, she swears, fingers crossed behind your back. But then, she takes notice to the man standing just a foot away--and she lets you go to turn you around, her fingertips grazing your arms as you finally face him.
"Yeah, she, uh....she cried, like, every night," Even as Robin says it and breaks the quiet, she herself is rubbing tears from her cheeks, trying to keep that smile going as you stand and Nancy loosens her hold. She moves aside for Eddie to lay his hands on her shoulders from behind, and keep her steady on her feet. "So did Steve. I told you he cries when we watch Princess Bride!"
"I-I....I didn't mean it, Steve. I never...I've never thought you were dumb." Your voice comes out as a whimper, fingers fiddling with each other as you endure that big, brown, wide-eyed stare.
"I know." He breathes, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. He wants to move, he's antsy, but he won't take another step. "I know, baby."
"Can I hug you?" Steve just nods, but his lip quivers and his features gain that pathetic, sad puppy look, because he was hoping and praying you would say those very words. Your heart soars as he meets your step forward and flings his strong arms tight around your body, crushing you with his huge stature but never loosening up. He instantly brings his hand up to cradle your head against his chest, kissing the crown of it with so much firmness that you know he's reaffirming you're really standing in front of him again.
"I shouldn't have let you leave. I should've slashed your damn tires." He chuckles along with you at the lighthearted crack at breaking the tension, until he chokes up again into a sob. "Nobody could ever replace you. And I swear, I'll never break your heart again."
Steve holds you for a long time, squeezing you and kissing you and brushing strands of hair from your eyes to just look at you, surveying the face of the love he feared he'd never get to cherish again. It's a long time coming, and when he's done, there are three other warm bodies in the room that need attention from the sweet thing they've been killing themselves over these last few weeks.
From there, they catch you up with what had happened in your absence. Steve had walked off to clear his head after you left, and hadn't returned until late in the day--burst through the front door during an unusually quiet dinner and sent them all into a panic, when he realized you really had left and you weren't coming back. The four of them had jumped into action to split up and look for you, Nancy contacted your parents and other family while Steve and Robin tried to find some hint of your whereabouts in the house, cracking open your drawers and notes and realizing how much of your stuff was missing. Meanwhile, Eddie had driven in circles round Hawkins and the outer city limits, trying to find any trace of your car in the dark with the help of passing streetlights.
When those attempts had failed after stretching out into the next day to mid-afternoon, and with your very unhelpful parents insisting they had no idea where you could've gone, that's when your partners had started printing out missing person's flyers and put in an official report with the sheriff's office. And, seemingly having forgotten that you were really the only one who ever checked the voicemail at work, your message tendering your resignation had been errantly erased by your manager--worrying them even further when they questioned him, because if you were really planning on moving away like you said, how could you not tell your employer? It wasn't like you. Their fears had only gotten stronger from there.
The worst had yet to come, though. Because when your car had been found on the side of the road way out in the middle of nowhere, miles and miles away from Hawkins and completely destroyed, the four of them had reached the point of no return. The plates had been torn off, but it was your exact make and model of car, and what were they supposed to believe? That it was just coincidence? That's what Hopper had tried to reassure them with, tried to insist that plenty of cars get found gutted out in the bush, but they couldn't be convinced that it was just some freak happenstance and delude themselves to think that you were fine and dandy somewhere else. The same thing had happened to Max's stepbrother, and they all knew how that had ended.
So started the search parties, the nights spent staying up and studying maps by lamplight, the microwave meals in place of home cooking and sleeping in shifts by the phone, waiting and hoping for some kind of clue to your whereabouts to appear. Finding you had become more important than eating, proper sleep, showering, or attention paid to anything aside from looking towards the horizon to see if you would magically walk back into their lives.
And all that time, you had believed nothing but that they couldn't care less where you were, or what you were doing. When in reality, they could think of nothing but you. That was what had led Eddie to nearly crash into you as you re-entered Hawkins, having been pacing the living room for those long hours after Hop's call until he just couldn't take it anymore--despite the other three trying to stop him, he had dashed out to his van and peeled out of the driveway like a lunatic, just for the slightest chance that he might be there when you needed help. It was so stupid, so reckless, and you'll remember that moment he came rushing around the side of the truck to get to you forever.
Despite them reassuring you about Chrissy, too, when the tears have dried--promising you she's nothing but a friend, and they would have no problems limiting her interaction with all of you from now on--you wave it away, smiling off your stupidity and letting them know that it's fine. You were just being dumb, acting crazy, but you're fine now. And Eddie's eyes narrow at that.
"You're not crazy." He murmurs absentmindedly, and says nothing more until he can slip away from your reunion, and reach the phone in the kitchen. While you're busy dealing with your other partner's crippling absence of affection, he taps his blunt nails into each button, numbly dialing the number he's memorized until the ringing starts and stops.
"Hey, Chris. Angel's back home."
"Oh, that's great! Oh...Eddie, I'm so happy for you. You must be relieved-"
"Yeah. Yeah, I am. Listen, no hard feelings, but....you're my friend, so I'm just gonna be straight. Don't come by the house anymore."
"I--what? Really? I....Eddie, I'm sorry, if I did something to upset you-"
"No, no, nothing you did. Well, not really. But I know how you feel, Chris, and I can't really ignore it anymore." He swallows deeply, and sucks on his teeth as he tries to think of some better way to say it. "I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I don't feel the same. I never have, and I'm sorry if I made you feel like that might change."
"......So that's it?"
"That's it. We can still be friends, but we need space for awhile first, and I'm not gonna ignore you flirting with me anymore. I'm in love and it's not gonna change. Sorry."
"Can we at least talk about it, Eddie? Please? I'd rather talk this out in person."
"No. Bye, Chrissy."
He thuds the phone back on the receiver just a little too hard, and brings his hand up to rub at his neck and try and get the ache out. That didn't feel good, having to confront one of his very few friends with a truth he just wanted to ignore--but the sick feeling he has now can't even compare to how he felt when you were away, and it's an easy decision to make in that regard. He'd take you over her any day. It's a bit of a guilty feeling, but he knows it's the truth even if it hurts Chrissy's feelings, and he's happy even so.
"....Yeah, I missed you real bad, sweetheart. Don't you ever think I wouldn't....or else you are crazy."
"Eddie?" You call out from the living room, and following that sweet voice to its source, he feels himself light up at the sight of you settled back into the couch. Legs tucked up in Robin's lap, halfway into Steve and Nancy's, looking so comfortable and cute as you look up at him. You're where you belong. He's so distracted by the glee and relief of having you home, he didn't even realize how quiet it had been between you all until he came right back from his task. You say nothing more, just hold your arms out to him--and when he gets close enough, you capture him with those pretty eyes of yours, and melt away any ill feeling as you pull him into your chest.
nsfw content MDNI (repost)
To be completely honest, anon if I had a dick, I would buy one, it just looks like it'd be fun to fuck- 💀
Both boys have a similar reaction to you giving them the toy. "Yo-Y-You want me to what?!?" and blushing all the way to their ears lol
But moving on to the video part~
Mammon
Mammon is sitting on the couch in his room, pants around his ankles 'n legs spread he got the toy in one hand and is setting a little bottle of lube back down on the table, just next to where his phone is propped up recording.
He looks at the camera and frowns a bit, "Ya see the shit ya got me doin' for ya? Should'a just went to yer room." He pouts one hand rubbing lube up and down his cock.
He looks at the toy in his and finally moves to slide it over his cock~ his movements are slow, but even from the video you can tell he’s holding back.
He want to put on a show 'n make you feel jealous of this stupid toy you're making him use!!! A few low moans 'n grunts make it past his lips and he starts moving the toy a little bit faster, "Wish ya were here! Nothing better, than the real thing, 'n I miss ya so much." It doesn't matter if he saw you 15 minutes ago he already misses you! "Damnit, all w-worked up g-gonna- fuck~" Mammon ends up cutting himself off ‘n cumming faster than he wanted to, he had planed on making a longer video, edging himself a bit more, but all the thoughts of you~ ('n. the fact he was jerking off before he started recording ) didn't help. Just under the video is a text 'When yer done watchin' this head to my room!'
Levi
The video is shaky, it's an above view of his cock already inside the toy, and you can hear Levi's soft panting, almost whine like moans right away "S-sorry, needed y-you, s-so-hahh~ so-fuck- so b-bad I almost forgot to record……."
Unlike Mammon, Levi isn't putting on a show, he's chasing his high~! All he did was think of the way your hand brushed his thigh in class, and he was hard. He wanted a quick way to get off!
He was about to just jerk off when his eyes fell on the toy and he remembered you made him promise to send you a video.......
"R-really wish you were here~! This stupid toy isn't enough!"
His whines are getting louder and his moans are in a higher pitch, his hand starts jerking the toy faster, and finally he cums with a cry of your name~
A text quickly follows the video 'Next time you have to help me out!! And you can't say no!!!”
𝟑:𝟑𝟑 𝐀𝐌 | 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐋'𝐒 𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍
cw. f!reader, demon form!beel, size difference, dubcon, pussyjob, multiple orgasms, creampie, belly bulge
an. since season two is coming out and i missed beel and i’m tired of reading him portrayed as a “pure angel"
he doesn’t know if that is love.
he knows you make his heart beat fast every time he sees you; he knows his palms start to sweat when he watches you smile at men who are not him; he knows his stomach stops growling when your eyes meet by sheer coincidence and he knows his cock gets hard when he watches you sleep, hiding in the darkness of your bedroom.
he asked so many permissions to come to the human world, just for you.
he followed you around town while you ran errands in that nice short sundress and picturing how you were wearing nothing underneath. he’d learned the streets and routes you took when you went out shopping with your friends, the stores you liked best, the dishes you preferred to eat when you went out to lunch with them, the drinks you loved to sip on warm afternoons. he watched as you turned away men who approached you on the way home, the ones who whistled at you — and hell, he would have loved so much to step in and break their neck but it was too soon.
the way you smiled at some of them pissed him off. your smiles should have been just for him, not for men who wouldn’t even know how to treat a woman like you.
men who wouldn’t even know how to make you pleasure and satisfy. not the way he could.
when in the middle of the night you feel yourself being dragged out of your bed by a strange presence your first thought is that you might be dreaming. but the grip on your hips was too strong for it to be a dream.
the demon easily lifts you by the waist. he rips off your panties with his thick fingers, his chest is hard as he pulls you toward him, and a thick cock begins to rub between your folds.
“i’m gonna make you feel good,” he coos in your ear, “just … be a good girl.”
Keep reading
there were very few things that could take barbatos away from his work. timeline glitches or the occasional furry rodent, perhaps. today, one of those things just happened to be you.
your head laid on his chest, while the rest of you sprawled out on top of him. however heavy you might be, barbatos knew he could've gotten up to continue working at any point in the night. hours later— now 2am, barbatos remained, counting your breath by the gentle rise and fall of your shoulders.
this was nice, he couldn't help but admit.. you were nice. you were kind and inquisitive, always finding opportunities to surprise him. you also constantly searched for ways to give him longer breaks. which, while unneeded, was appreciated nonetheless. this escapade to the castle guest room just so happened to be one of those attempts.
he found your weight against him rather pleasant, like a heavy blanket, draping him in comfort and warmth. barbatos glanced down at your sleeping face, the corners of his lips pulling up softly. his fingers traced feather-light shapes along your back. though he was starting to grow restless as the hours passed, he had no intention of possibly waking you by moving.
and admittedly, he thought, maybe he might've needed this. maybe.
you've been tired these days as well, haven't you? besides your breathing and the occasional murmur, you haven't moved at all since falling asleep on him. your steady heartbeat was nearly in sync with his own. if he stayed here another several hours, would it fall in line at some point?
maybe you both needed this, he finally decided, contemplating what he should tell the little ds when they inevitably come looking for him for tasks to fulfill.
dividers from @/clutteredfun
・✶ 。゚you finally let mammon feel all of you for the first time. warnings : f. reader, some possessive talk, mammon goes raw for the first time.
“fuck.” mammon spits quietly as he kneels over you, the base of his fat cock in his hand while he guides the blunt head through your folds.
“ya sure ‘bout this, baby? t-thought about this s-so much—“ he curses softly when he fumbles slightly, the other hand that’s resting on your waist tightening as he tries to line himself up again, a little too eager to sink into your tight cunt and feel all of you.
your lips part to answer him but you only manage a whimper and a nod when the fat head finally pushes into your already flexing walls and mammon groans, gliding past the spots that have your thighs twitching around his waist to force even more of his cock inside of you.
he feels like the rooms spinning, your walls tightening and sucking him in the deeper he goes and he can feel every flex of your muscles against his cock until he’s almost hunched over you, resting his forehead against your shoulder when he finally bottoms out, the hand that was previously on your waist moving to twist in the sheets beside you.
“o-oh fuck, baby. you’re so tight, fuck! ya feel so good.” mammon grunts, the muscles in his back expanding with each of his shakey exhales as he tries to catch his breath above you—a little embarrassed at how close he already feels but how can you blame him when he can feel every twitch and flex of your pussy around him, arousal pooling in his lower stomach as he hisses through his teeth before finally drawing his hips back.
“‘ts g-gonna feel so good fillin’ up this perfect—fuckin’—pussy, all mine.” his voice is low, slightly shakey with anticipation and need as he follows each word with a sharp thrust, cursing under his breath when you babble and grab at him so needily with each smack of his hips against yours, his cock thickening and twitching against the addictive, needy hug of your body—your walls almost desperately trying to pull him back each time he rocks his hips “oh, baby. ‘ll give it to ya—it’s all y-yours too.”
mammon growls wordlessly, leaning over you once again as his hands grab at the pillow next to your head—his other hand digging almost painfully into your waist to help with pulling your hips down to meet each of his heavy thrusts, your body clapping against his as he fucks into you, panting over the skin of your neck before his lips are gliding over the most sensitive parts that have you keening below him.
“‘s it feel good? yeah? shiiiit—ya drive me fuckin’ crazy. ya love—“ he takes a ragged breath, rolling his hips into yours a little sloppily before he groans again “y-ya love how good i make ya feel, don’t ya?” and you whine, grabbing at his broad shoulders to keep yourself some what grounded as his thrusts speed up, and he curses roughly when you leave red marks on his smooth, tanned skin, his pace stuttering when it only makes his cock throb inside you—his lips parted as he pants and growls in your ear, his thrusts loud and clapping.
“goddamn, wanna feel all of ya, baby—ughhhh—“ the silver haired demon babbles, his brows furrowing as he drinks in the sound of your sweet moans and the feeling of your walls around him, memorising every dip of your body. “f-fuckin’ cum for me. holy shit—i gotta feel ya, fuck!”
© 2022 garoujo. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
Minors DNI
Warning(s): NSFW, dubcon
Fem!Reader
Authors Note: First time; necessary feedback, pls! Taking requests!
It’s been about a week since you’ve moved into your new apartment. Everything about it was perfect except for one thing: you’ve explored every room but one, which was locked for some reason. (If only you had read the entire catalog ad, you would’ve understood why and that all past tenants never stayed too long). You complained about it to your landlord, who hired a locksmith free of charge, thankfully. This is what your actions have come to, sadly: you, standing before hundreds of slimy, purple tentacles, coming from all around the mystery room.
You try and back away quietly toward the door in hopes of being able to leave unnoticed. Pitifully, the floorboards creek(damn, this shitty building). The tentacles immediately move in your direction as you run for the door, only to be blocked off by more tentacles. They push you to the ground and squeeze around your arms and legs, probing at your torse.
They’re not hurting you; they seem pretty curious, actually. The tentacle's touch is soft and gentle. One tentacle stops at your face...it’s...caressing your cheek? Their touches were seemingly affectionate at first but quickly became provocative. They began to slip under your clothes, feeling you up.
Again, their touch was gentle but still violating nonetheless; they groped your breasts, sucking on your nipples and coiling around them. You try and keep as much dignity you have left, biting your lip to hold back your moans. The tentacles seem to sense your defiance and dislike it very much. They tear through your clothing, leaving only your thin panties to cover you. They curl around your thighs, spreading your legs to tease you, rubbing against your clothed cunt, and nuzzling your clit; their suckers find it and abuse the little bundle of nerves.
A blissful whine escapes your lips; you can’t remember the last time you felt this good. The tentacles stroke your body with satisfaction, assumingly rewarding you for your submission. You can feel yourself getting wetter by the second. Your sense of dignity is long gone by now; you’re a wailing mess. Hair sticking to your sweat-coated skin, tear-filled eyes rolled up into your head, and while your mouth hangs open with a bead of drool leaking from the side.
The tentacles can sense your arousal, not to mention your drenched underwear. They move your panties to the side and continue to toy with your aching pussy, stroking your wet hole and sucking on your sore clit until you cum.
The tentacles let you catch your breath, lovingly massaging your body. Soon enough, you’re suspended in the air as more tentacles hold you, creating a makeshift bed to place you comfortably. Another tentacle approaches your face again, latching itself to your mouth and pushing past your lips to curl around your tongue. Is this its way of kissing you? Is it showing affection?
It’s a bit gross, but the tentacles mean well. Your body suddenly jolts as you feel a tentacle push against your sopping hole. It uses its suckers to tease you again, but as you grind yourself against it, the tentacle penetrates you, pressing against your walls to search for your sweet spot. The tentacle in your mouth begins to thrust in and out as you feel another tentacle enter your ass. The tentacle in your pussy moves rhythmically with the others as it’s sucker hit your g-spot. At this point, your mind is nothing but mush. All you see are white spots as your legs quake under the tentacles, unable to hold yourself up longer.
The tentacles wrap around your waist and lift you. You’re now ass up, face down, and being fucked mercilessly in all three holes. You can’t take it; it’s too good, too much, too many. You feel more tentacles enter your already full holes. Doesn’t this monster know you have a limit?
It doesn’t care, really. All it wants is to see you cum, and cum, again. You can feel yourself getting dizzier after each orgasm, one after another. Before you know it, you’re waking up from your fucked out haze. The tentacles seemed to have stopped fucking your brains out a while ago; they’re all curled up around your protectively, some still inside you. You try and crawl towards the door, but you’re body is useless at this point.
The tentacles drag you back to them, curling around to massage your worn-out body. It seems you won’t be leaving this room any time soon...or ever.
...
Might as well move your stuff in here.
3 days...
Minors do not interact.
Masterlist
You do it just to spite him, he thinks. Hanging out with his brothers, laughing so freely right in front of him, having such a good time. It irks him. He could make you laugh like that if you'd just let him.
No, that's not fair, he chastises himself, he's gross, and weird, of course you don't want to hang out with him.
So how did he end up in this situation? Stroking his cock the way he always does when he thinks about you, only this time you're watching him. You're watching him -- and you're touching your gorgeous, wonderful, juicy pussy right in front of him! Because of him!
Levi watches with rapt attention the way you pump your fingers into your core, use your other hand to play with your clit. His gaze is trained on your pussy, and if it were anyone else, you might feel shy from putting on such a show. But he is enamored, so focused on watching you that his hand has slowed on his cock.
"Levi," you hum softly, somewhere between a pant and a moan, "I want to see."
He starts slightly, moves his hand again in the same quick rhythmic pumps as before. He can't imagine why you'd want to watch him when you get to touch yourself like this. That's far more interesting to him than having to watch the gross way he jacks off, but you keep insisting, and he'd give you anything you asked for.
He won't last long. He knows as he flicks his wrist at the end of his stroke, that he'll blow his load so much faster than you will reach your high. Maybe you'll let him eat you out after, he thinks.
"I'm close," he warns, breath light and airy. His eyes are still watching the way you play with yourself, and you are far too focused on watching him than truly seeking your own release. He's pretty like this; long limbs outstretched, one hand splayed over his belly while he slides the other over his cock. A slight sheen of sweat coats his body, makes him glisten in the low light.
He comes with a whimper, spilling his seed over his knuckles and the using the extra slickness to finish the job. It's messy, fitting. He loves the way your eyes devour him.
"Now- now can-" He's about to ask if he can help you through yours, but you surge forward, seal your lips around his cock, slurp up all of his spend and he thinks he might pass out from how sensitive he is and how perfect you feel.
His voice peters off into a whine, "oh god. That's- that. That's -- fuck that feels so good."
Just wait until you sink onto him, you think, popping off of his dick like a lollipop. You move to straddle him, delighting in the way his eyes go wide and he starts to stammer something unintelligible.
"I'll do all the work," you whisper right next to his ear, "just relax."
no other otome game will ever be able to replicate mammon from obey me because they miss the key thing that takes him from a tsundere archetype to an amazing love interest: he loves you so goddamn much. it is almost instantaneous, from the moment that you start coming into your own during the game, that he falls for you. then from that moment it's over. all he wants is you. to protect you, to be near you. he's the only love interest who hasn't threatened your life in their demon form, he's the one that held you after you freed belphie... even in the lamp event, he's willing to give up the world to have you instead. no other LI can match his level of blind devotion, no matter what's at stake