Vaggie: Adam And Alastor Suck.

Don't know where I found this art, but I fucking love the parallels between Lucifer and Lilith, and, Alastor and Rosie

I love him so much

BREAKING NEWS ★ local 24yo loser engages in panty theft

jayce talis has a problem.

he can’t stop popping a hard on whenever you do some remotely attractive to him… which is nearly everything.

wear a short skirt and have to bend down to pick something else, flashing your cheeky cut panties? boner.

recite a passage of knowledge with the utmost passion? boner.

get within ten feet of jayce? boner.

at first, he could handle it; simply wait until he got home to address the conundrum. however, as your friendship grow closer and closer, his decorum wavers and wavers until—

fist wrapped snug around his cock, jayce finds himself jerking off in your bathroom; he strokes his length in quick succession, 'fwap! fwap!' echoing off the walls.

you and him were studying earlier when you excused yourself to grab a snack from the kitchen. in your absence, jayce rose from your bed and stepped towards the door to use the restroom, his hip bumping into your laundry basket. it fell to the carpeted floor with a soft thud and its contents spilled from the opening. jayce tried to clean it up and hastily shoved dirty laundry back into the hamper, but something grabbed his attention.

a pair of baby pink panties.

jayce fucks himself raw with his calloused hand, as he inhales the scent of your cunt off the used panties. he fantasizes of the times you worn this pair, is this the pair you had on when you flashed him by mistake in the library? fuck! your smell is overwhelming and sends waves of arousal throughout jayce's muscled body. precum drips onto his hand and lubes up his shaft, as jayce presses his nose deeper into the pair's crotch.

he imagines you riding his face, allowing him to savor the sweet slick and heat of your pussy. jayce would do a great job eating you out, he promises! he would try you like the princess you are. his strokes become more erratic and needy, as jayce approaches orgasm; he muffles his moans by stuffing the panties in his mouth, climaxing shamelessly on his hand and onto the porcelain of the sink counter.

what a perverted man, there's no going back for jayce talis; he's now too eager to stop himself from engaging in such debauchery moving forward.

Your voice...

🔞 Uraume getting off watching you and Sukuna having sex

I don't know what got into me, I get up with the URGE to write something about Uraume fantasizing about Sukuna's lover (fem!reader) and touching themselves while they are listening/watching them fucking so here we are I guess.

Content: smut 🔞, fem reader, voyeurism, masturbation (tried to keep Uraume gender neutral), rough sex, dirty talk, dub con (sex itself is consensual, but Uraume watches without permission.)

You were screaming so loud today. Uraume should have been used to it by now: Sukuna was always shameless, taking you anywhere anytime whenever he fancied, and he fancied a lot. Usually they would go by their day minding their own business, but lately they have been obsessed by the sound of your moans.

They didn’t know when it started exactly.

When they started paying active attention to the way you were whimpering in pleasure.

When they started to imagine how your face looked when you were fucked so roughly.

When they started to wish they could make you scream in ecstasy while they kiss your whole body.

Uraume leaned against the hallway wall, breathing deeply to calm their nerves. Their body felt so hot, so needy. They knew it was wrong, but was it their fault if once again you were fucking in the middle of the living room? Was it their fault if the squelching sound of your dripping pussy was so freaking loud and they could hear it beneath the noises of your skin slapping lustfully each time Sukuna pounded you?

- Oh fuck Kuna, you are so deep, fuck

You whined more lasciviously than usual, and your following groan of pleasure went straight to their crotch, making it throb as their mouth went dry. They wanted to look so badly. They slowly straighten their back, hesitating for a second before they start walking, passing by the wide-open door as if nothing happened and they were just crossing the corridor. Their eyes trailed discretely on the room, on you, as they walked, their pace tranquil and natural, their turmoil only betrayed by the way their first was clenched.

You didn’t seem to notice them, you were not facing the door and were very obviously focused on Sukuna's dick rearranging your guts, same was true for Sukuna, who was too enthralled by the way his hands were sinking into the flesh of your ass to pay attention to his surroundings. Still, they didn't dare drag more than necessary; this brief glimpse was enough to give them a full picture of the situation, making their heart pound faster.

As Uraume leaned against the wall on the other side of the door frame, they closed their eyes, the scene so vivid in their mind. The way you were trying so hard to not slouch as Sukuna was taking you on all fours directly on the ground, the beautiful curve of your back, the rocking of your heavy breast at each thrust, the way your sweat was sticking your hair on your neck, your lips parting to moan from the relentless pounding...

No amount of meditation could calm them now, their sex was throbbing so much, pulsating in rhythm with the delighted screams they could hear. Their hand trailed on their stomach grazing against their aching arousal through their cloth in order to ease the painful ache between their legs. They barely touched themselves, and yet they were already dripping, not registering any of the dirty banter that was going on until you started stuttering louder.

- I’m.. going to cum, I am going to cum!!!

Your ecstatic voice sent a jolt of pleasure through their body, trying not to moan as they started stroking themselves urgently gripping their robe desperately in their sloppy movement.

- No not yet, hold on a bit more

Sukuna's voice was as teasing and commanding as usual, and they felt grateful for the extra time suddenly desperate to cum in tandem with you. They messily lifted the hem of their robe so they could touch their sex directly with renewed vigor, intoxicated by how your moans were turning into hopless, lustful whines of frustration and bliss.

It was so hot, they couldn’t resist and peaked their head just slightly again through the door frame, getting a new glimpse at your face distorted in pure pleasure at the way you were scratching the floor, your whole body shaking as Sukuna fucked you hard, pulling your hair roughly to keep you steady.

They quickly leaned back on the wall, in fear of being caught, their fingers working desperately on their heat, their head light from how aroused they were.

- There, there, good girl, now you can cum, Sukuna said, his voice dripping with condescension, his own grunt of pleasure mixed with your screams, barely audible from how wild you were panting and moaning.

A whimper escaped Uraume lips as they finally came, ruining their underwear quite spectacularly while putting their free hands over their mouth to stop themselves from being too loud. Their body was so tensed, pressing the back of their head as hard as they could against the wall.

Their legs were shaking from the intensity of their orgasm as they finally let themselves slowly fall against the wall, trying to steady their ragged breath. They never felt so good in their entire life and so shameful at the same time.

- Such a good slut, you did so well for me, Sukuna praised the sounds of wet kisses filling the room, irking Uraume and getting them back on earth. Somehow, the sloppy, hungry sounds of your lips crashing against Sukuna’s with a blissful humming were making them more jealous than the whole debauchery they just witnessed.

Chasing the thought of their head, they hastily clean their hand on their clothes, standing up again while they tidy their robe to look decent, and walking away before they get caught, their heart pounding hard in their chest as your voice still echoed in their mind.

They were in so much trouble.

they were so me during this whole episode.

hiiii so i might’ve been stalking your blog for the entire 3 hour car ride :33

can i pretty please request more aftercare fluff w/lucifer? i looove the way your write him!🫶🏻

have a good day/night‼️‼️

a/n — I meant to do this SO much earlier! Anyways i’m super sleepy right now and lowkey just want to write fluff so here’s this!

“Luci, you did so good. I’m so proud of you, sweetheart,” you coo down at Lucifer as he came down from his high.

It had been a particularly intense night, sex-wise, and it showed on the poor man’s face. He looked terribly spent and drenched in sweat. 

His body was littered with love bites and bruises from you, adding to the pathetic image of him sprawled out on bed.

Your heart ached at the sight of him, “Aw, sweetie, did I go to hard on you?” You massage his cheek with your thumb, he leans into you.

“No it was— god, it was amazing. You were amazing,” He gazed up at you adoringly, “You are amazing.” 

He looked at you with large doe eyes, “Can I help clean up, or anything?” He almost pleaded, desperate to help you.

Warm feelings of affection flooded your chest, “Lucifer,” you draw out, “Baby, you’ve already done so much for me. Give yourself a break, you look beat.”

Contrary to your point, Lucifer felt like he hadn’t done enough for you tonight. He almost felt guilty for receiving your love, especially if he didn’t think he reciprocated enough.

“Angel, please, I wanna help.” His eyes fell on you once again, gazing at you as if you put the stars in the sky.

He looked like a lost puppy, waiting for your command. You took pity on him.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re the sweetest, prettiest boy ever?” You spoke, words laced with sugar as you leaned down to plant kisses all over his cheeks. 

He giggled dumbly, once again looking up at you and waiting for instructions on how to help.

“How about—“ you think, there wasn’t much you wanted him to do, especially in his state “—how about you sit here and look pretty while I run a bath?”

“My dear.” He warned, drawing out his words in a kinda of whine. 

He didn’t look happy with this answer. As much as you wanted him to take it easy, he desperately wanted to help you clean up.

“Alright, I’ll go run a bath and you freshen up the area, how’s that sound?” you inquire, earning a much more approving expression.

With extra effort, you carefully helped him and yourself off the bed, planting a kiss on his forehead.

He was obviously in pain as he left to go get a washcloth and fresh sheets, but as he was so determined to be of service to you, you let it slide.

You ran the bathtub water to a good temperature and lit some candles around it. When the tub looked, smelled, and felt appealing enough, you called out for Lucifer.

“How’s it going it there, babe? ‘Tubs ready,” you dip your toe in the water before sinking in fully.

“Be there in a moment, my love,” He called back, voice half-gone and groggy.

When he finally shows up in the room, he looks absolutely exhausted. Although objectively cleaner, he looks miles more disheveled than he did before tidying up. 

Once again, your heart fills with love towards the man. He was already tired, and still put forth effort to clean up, just so you had to do less work.

“Come here, sweetheart,” you coo at him, opening your arms and welcoming him in the bathtub.

All but reluctantly, he slinks towards you and practically falls into the water. Your arms wrap around him, pulling him close to your chest.

He sighs and rests his head on you, happily curling up into you in the warm water.

“Hm, what candles did you light?” he asks quietly.

“I think something vanilla-y. You like it?” 

“The vanilla ones are my favorite. I think this is vanilla bean,” He hums softly into your chest. You rub his back your hand and use the other one to fish over the side off he bathtub.

There, you pulled out three oddly specific rubber ducks; a yodeler duck, a chef duck, and a duck that actually blows bubbles out of his snout. These three were Lucifer’s favorite.

He gave a small gasp when you pulled them out and set them into the water. You could see him regaining a little energy. 

“You know, the yodeler one has an interesting back story,” he practically gloated, pulling the ducks close to his chest. 

“Oh?” you question, “Well, please share, then. Don’t leave me on the edge of my seat.” You pull him closer to your chest as he holds the yodeling duck up in the air.

“Well, I actually got the materials in a different layer of hell. The craft supplies was good but the food was terrible there,” he rambled on lazily.

Increasingly drowsily, he explains its back story and how he got to work and little details like that. Every now and then he would look over his shoulder to see if you were still listening, or even cared.

To his surprise, you always were. He subconsciously snuggled further into you. Sleep crept into his words every time he spoke until it was undeniably time to get out.

You were exhausted yourself. You lazily got out of the bathtub and dried off, Lucifer following soon after. 

As to both get comfortable in bed, you rest your head on his shoulder and realize he had brought the ducks with him.

“Can I— can I keep explaining?” He asked timidly, yawning afterwards.

You pull him close and wrap your arms around his stomach, “For as long as you’re awake, sweetie.”

He smiled, knowing it wouldn’t be long before he was passed out. Just as suspected, in few short minutes of Lucifer’s rambling, you were both sound asleep. 

a/n — okay I HAVE to get some Vox content out after this because I have been lacking so much. There are lots of requests so expect more of him soon.

Sorry Mr. King of Hell, Alastor hails from the land of stubborn, violent psychopaths 😔

(what it do my fellow americans)

cute little painfully nerdy 2000s ellie williams x popular bimbo fem reader part 2

in the girls’ locker room the fluorescent lights buzz overhead. perfume clouds thick in the air. flat irons sizzle, flip phones chirp, and someone in the corner is crying over their boyfriend breaking up with them.

you’re standing in front of your locker. glossy lips pursed, sidekick phone in the pocket of your low rise jeans, your hands pulling your tank top off slow, dramatic, giving the girls (and let’s be real, mostly one girl) a show. dramatic push up, leopard print, hot pink VS bra on full display.

now that girl? ellie williams. corner bench goblin. hoodie up. knees turned in. glasses slipping, lip bitten raw, sketchbook trembling in her lap.

she’s not even pretending anymore. just fully drawing you. boobs front and center. pink glitter gel pen already on standby. there’s a little bubble by your nipples that says:

“soft?? or dangerous??”

then she gasps. you turned your head and looked at her. and because the universe hates her, her stupid clammy hand jerks—

sketchbook goes flying.

sprawled open on the tile.

right at your feet.

you look down. brows furrow. blink. then, slowly, you bend over—boobs still out—and pick it up with two manicured fingers like it’s covered in germs.

“…what the actual f*ck is this.”

ellie’s already stammering. “i-i was just—it’s for a project—i’m in—uh—figure drawing—?”

you hold up the page. “is that supposed to be me? are these my tits?”

she’s practically vibrating. “they’re—they’re really distinctive.”

now, the whole locker room is watching. girls whispering. dina’s jaw is dropped. someone’s filming on their pink razr.

you flip through the sketchbook. pages of you in different bras. different outfits. one of you in a bikini you haven’t even worn yet.

you hold one up. “why am i in a schoolgirl skirt with whipped cream on my chest?”

ellie squeaks. “i—it’s symbolic?”

you raise an eyebrow, unimpressed. “symbolic of what? your weird little loser nut fantasy?”

she shrinks.

“geez,” you mutter. “you’re so pathetic.”

that made ellie wet as if she wasn’t already. she opens her mouth. closes it. opens it again. “i think I’m in love with you,” she says.

you burst out laughing. “no sh*t, perv.”

ellie freezes. she looks like you just stabbed her in the chest with a glittery gel pen.

“wait—hold on—please,” she says, voice going higher than her GPA’s ever been. “you can’t—you can’t keep that.”

you arch a brow, already flipping to the next page. “i absolutely can. possession is, like, nine-tenths of the law. ever heard of it?”

ellie lunges forward instinctively—then thinks better of it. hands up, like she’s in a hostage negotiation. “okay. okay. let’s talk. we can talk. that sketchbook—it’s not safe for the public. you haven’t even seen the worst pages.”

you pause, intrigued. “oh? there’s worse?”

she twitches. visibly. “page sixteen is a crime. i drew that at 3AM while watching wild things and—i wasn’t in my right mind. please.”

you start turning the page. she yelps.

“i’ll pay you!” you glance up. “with what? your lunch tokens?”

“i’ll sell my PS3. i’ll—i’ll do your homework—“ you hold up a page. “is this me… as a sexy vampire?”

ellie visibly short-circuits. “okay, that one was experimental.”

you smirk. “you gave me fangs.”

“it was a metaphor!”

“for what?!”

she just breathes. hard. ragged. “desire?”

you’re wheezing now, flipping faster. “why am I in a maid outfit on this page?”

she slaps her forehead. “that one’s not done! you’re supposed to be stepping on me!”

you look up, stunned.

“i was in a weird place, okay?!”

you cackle, stepping back as she reaches forward again. “if you touch me, i will literally call coach vera and tell her you’re having a pervert episode.”

she groans, dropping her face into her hands. “i was gonna burn it. i swear. i had a lighter and everything and then i remembered i have asthma and the fumes might kill me—”

you flip another page. pause. “is that… my bra on your head?”

she’s now just crouching behind a bench like a feral animal. “i was doing character study.”

you tuck the sketchbook under your arm and fix her with a smile that’s all teeth. “i’m keeping this.”

ellie just whimpers.

you lean in, giggle mockingly, casually evil. “i’m putting sticky notes on the ones i like best.”

she makes a strangled noise. and not in the usual creepy, horny way—this one’s real. “page seventeen has smudges—don’t judge me by that one!”

her shoulders slump. glasses fogged beyond saving. she’s blinking a lot, like she’s trying not to cry. it’s giving tragic victorian orphan. if victorian orphans wore spider-man boxers and thought about your boobs 24/7.

you pause.

“huh.”

it’s not like you feel bad, exactly. but it’s… visible. pathetic, even for her. she’s gone quiet. staring at the floor like the sketchbook was her only shot at happiness and now you’re gonna frame it above your bed like a serial killer trophy.

you sigh. loudly. dramatically. like it pains you to be merciful.

“my goodness, fine.”

you shove the sketchbook toward her chest. “take your little porn diary, freak.”

ellie grabs it like it’s a newborn baby. cradles it. whispers, “thank you” like you just pulled her out of a burning building.

“i don’t want your loser fantasies anyway,” you mutter, tossing your hair, adjusting your bra strap. “half of them didn’t even make sense. why was i riding you with a neon penis in thigh-highs?”

ellie doesn’t answer. she’s too busy clutching the book to her chest like it’s her oxygen supply.

you roll your eyes. “ugh. you’re welcome or whatever.”

she looks up at you, eyes glassy behind her crooked frames.

“…you have a really beautiful soul,” she says.

you just pat her head like a dog. “clean your glasses, williams. you’re fogging up again.”

and with that you flip your hair over your shoulder and start walking away back to your locker, muttering just loud enough for her to hear:

“sick in the head. go draw a tree or something, loser. get a grip.”

just like that, you’re gone—lip gloss shining, the kind of exit that belongs in a teen movie finale. girls part like the red sea. you don’t even look back.

ellie just stands there. silent. cradling her returned sketchbook like it’s the ark of the covenant. knees weak. boxers sticking.

she flips open to page sixteen. stares at the half-finished drawing of you in a silk robe that’s barely on, licking frosting off your finger in a kitchen that says “hot bimbo bakery” on a pink neon sign in the back. you’re surrounded by cupcakes. in the bottom corner, ellie had scribbled in shaky handwriting:

“i’d let her eat me like dessert. respectfully. or not.”

her hand trembles. she closes the sketchbook gently. holds it to her chest. eyes wide. flushed.

you’d seen it. maybe not that one, but enough. enough to know.

and you still gave it back. called her sick in the head, sure. but didn’t kill her. ellie sinks to the bench.

her chest is tight.

her glasses are fogging again.

she’s pretty sure her boxers are ruined forever.

she whispers, “she noticed me…”

then slowly slumps against the locker, eyes wide, cheeks pink, heart doing backflips.

she’s never been more down bad in her life.

and tragically? she’s only gonna get worse.

taglist : @deliciouslydeviantsatan, @valeisaslut, and @dollinrehab. lmk if uu wanna be added. :)

choso kamo // fic recommendations

note: remember to read the tags! + i do not own any of these works

xo

it's not a simple symptom

sketches

go for it, mr. ghostface!

high enough

opera house

operation: battlepass (aka the totally awesome plan to play wingman by yuuji itadori)

slow dance

guts

still learning

ugly crying

in a doll's house

blue salvia

me and my husband

what is this feeling

sweet serenity

boynextdoor!choso

ink at first sight

basking in you

red

shrike to your soft and glorious thorn

picture perfect

cafuné

a bad dream

my camboy

one for the road

cold fingers and warm lips

latte art

a scream au: ghostface! choso

imagine husband!nanami who can’t say no to you when you say “please?” with the most heart melting, unfathomably precious, pleading look ever.

“only because i love you so much.” he sighed. because he only loved you.

his hand patted the back of your thigh, before gently kneading the skin as you stood between his legs applying the pink clay mask to his face. “you almost done?” he asked, his gaze following your eyes deeply. if you hadn’t known any better, you’d think he was trying to fluster you on purpose. but really, he just adored you so much. how pretty he thought you were, and all his.

nanami truly thought you were the perfect one for him. not once had he ever thought he could meet someone as lovely as you. yet here you are, filling the hole he once had in his heart. you never needed to beg him for anything, he was always the one who begged you to let him take care of you.

“almost done, ken.” you murmured, your tongue subconsciously poking past your lips in concentration. a low chuckle rumbled from his chest, his hands moving to hold the plush of your hips. “i love you, sweetheart.”

oh. . . how much he loved the pink tint that grew on your cheeks when the words lovingly roll off his tongue, oozing out like warm honey.

you averted your gaze shyly, a habit nanami both adored and disfavored, until his thumb ran across your bottom lip to coax you into looking at him again. “i love you.” nanami repeated, a faint smile adorning his tired features. you could never get enough of him. just like how he couldn’t get enough of you.

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