#helluva x reader

Your phone rang, interrupting your inventory, and you smiled when you saw Fizz's name on the screen.

"Hey," you answered, climbing down from the step stool. "You guys done already?"

"Almost!" Fizz's voice came through with that manic energy that meant he was still riding the high from performing. "Ozzie's wrapping up some paperwork, but I'm freeee! Which means I get to make important executive decisions!"

"Executive decisions about what?" you asked, already smiling at his enthusiasm.

"Dinner! Well, late dinner. Very late dinner. Post-show snacks? Whatever, semantics!" You could hear him moving, probably bouncing around backstage. "I have been authorized by Big Daddy himself to acquire sustenance using his magical plastic rectangle of infinite money!"

"You stole his credit card again, didn't you?"

"Borrowed! I borrowed it! With implied permission! He said, and I quote, 'Get whatever you want, just make sure she eats something,' so really, I'm following orders!" There was a pause. "Okay he actually said 'grab food on the way home' but I'm choosing to interpret that as carte blanche to order everything!"

"Fizzy—"

"So! What does my beautiful, wonderful, amazing cutie want for dinner? And before you say 'I don't mind,' I will remind you that's not an acceptable answer! Pick something! Anything! The Seven Rings are your oyster! Well, not literally, unless you want oysters? Do you want oysters?"

You laughed, settling onto one of the kitchen stools. "I don't know what I want. What are the options?"

"Everything! Anything! I'm looking at Hellber-Eats right now and there are approximately one million restaurants! We could get that barbecue place from Wrath! Or the noodle place from Gluttony! Oh, or there's this new place that does those little dumpling things you liked!"

"Those were good," you admitted.

"See? Progress! We're narrowing it down! Dumplings are on the maybe list!" You could hear tapping, probably Fizz scrolling through options. "Ooh, or sushi! There's a place that is supposed to be amazing! The reviews say it's 'to die for' which, given that we're in hell, is a significant endorsement!"

"Sushi does sound good," you said, and you could practically hear Fizz's grin through the phone.

"Sushi it is! I'm ordering everything! All of it! Every single roll!"

"Fizz, that's too much—"

"Nonsense! There's no such thing as too much! We'll have leftovers! Leftovers are a gift to future us! Future us will be so grateful to past us for this abundance!" More tapping sounds. "Okay, I'm getting the rainbow roll, the dragon roll, the volcano roll—is that a weird name for sushi? That seems weird—the California roll even though we're not in California, some sashimi because I'm fancy, those little fried things—"

"Tempura?"

"Yes! Those! Tempura everything! Shrimp, vegetables, probably some things I can't identify! Oh, and edamame because that's healthy and Ozzie will appreciate that I'm making responsible choices!"

"Ordering thirty sushi rolls is not a responsible choice."

"It's a delicious choice! There's a difference!" Fizz paused. "Okay, I'm also getting that miso soup you like and some of those little rice ball things. Onigiri! That's the word! I'm culturally educated!"

"You're something," you said fondly.

"I'm delightful!" Fizz corrected. "Okay, order placed! It'll be delivered to the palace in like thirty minutes! I'm gonna finish up here and head home. Ozzie's probably gonna take another twenty minutes because he's fussy about his paperwork—"

"I can hear you!" Ozzie's voice came faintly through the phone.

"I said you were thorough and detail-oriented!" Fizz called back. Then, to you "See you soon, cutie! Don't start trouble without me!"

"Wouldn't dream of it," you said, smiling.

"See you soon! Bye!" He hung up before you could respond.

You were just finishing up your grocery list when you heard the front door open. Your heart did that little flutter it always did when either of them came home, and you hopped off the stool to go greet whoever it was.

Ozzie was in the entryway, already in the process of removing his accessories—the extra decorative elements he wore for public appearances. He looked tired but content.

"Hey Big Guy." you said softly, and his entire face lit up when he saw.

"Little one," he rumbled warmly. "There you are."

He crossed the space between you in just a few strides, and you found yourself looking way, way up at him. Sometimes you forgot just how massive he was until moments like this, when his presence filled the entire room.

His hand came up, and one enormous finger very gently brushed your hair back from your forehead. The gesture was so tender, so careful, and then his finger moved to stroke your cheek. His touch was warm, gentle, mindful of the size difference.

"How was your day?" he asked, his voice soft in that way it only got in private, when the persona fell away.

"Good," you said, leaning into his touch. "Quiet. I've been making a grocery list. And cleaning a bit."

Ozzie's expression shifted immediately, his face flickering with what looked like concern mixed with exasperation. "Cleaning? Little one, we have staff for that. Multiple staff members whose literal job is cleaning."

"I know," you said. "But I don't mind. It's not like I deep cleaned or anything. Just... tidied up a bit. Organized some things."

"You don't need to do that," Ozzie said, and there was something almost distressed in his tone. "You're not here to work. You're here because—" He paused, seeming to struggle with the words. "Because we want you here. Because you're important to us. Not because we need a housekeeper."

"I know that," you assured him quickly. "I wasn't cleaning because I thought I had to. I was cleaning because I wanted to. Because it helps me feel useful. And because..." You hesitated. "It saves you money? On cleaning staff?"

Ozzie stared at you for a long moment, and then he started laughing. Not a mean laugh, but genuine, warm amusement that made his eyes dance.

"Little one," he said once he'd recovered. "Money is not a problem. At all. Even remotely. I am the Sin of Lust. I run the most successful club in the Lust Ring. I manufacture products that are sold across all Seven Rings. Money is quite possibly the least of my concerns."

"Oh," you said, feeling your face heat. "Right. I knew that. Intellectually. But I still don't want to be... wasteful? Or take advantage?"

Ozzie's expression softened, and he very carefully cupped your face in his hand—or rather, you fit in his palm like he was holding something precious. "You could never take advantage. If anything, Fizz and I are trying very hard not to overwhelm you with how much we want to spoil you."

"Spoil me? You know I dont need that." you repeated.

"Mmhmm," Ozzie confirmed. "Fizz already has a list of things he wants to buy you. I've had to talk him down from some of the more extravagant options at least three times this week."

"What kind of extravagant options?"

"He wanted to commission a custom wardrobe from one of the Lust Ring's top designers," Ozzie said dryly. "The entire consultation alone was going to cost more than most demons make in a year."

"Ozzie, thats far far too much!" you said, scandalized.

"I know. I told him we should start smaller. Maybe just a few nice pieces instead of an entire wardrobe." Ozzie's grin was slightly sheepish. "He's currently compromising by secretly ordering things online and having them delivered when he thinks I'm not paying attention."

"You know he does that?"

"I get notifications every time my credit card is used," Ozzie said. "I'm choosing to allow it because watching him try to be sneaky is adorable, and because he has excellent taste. Everything he's ordered for you has been beautiful, besides its a joint account."

You didn't know what to say to that. The idea that they wanted to spoil you, that they were actively trying to buy you things and make you happy, was overwhelming in the best way.

"You don't have to buy me things," you said quietly. "I'm happy just being here. With both of you."

"We know," Ozzie said gently. "But we want to. Because taking care of the people we—" He paused. "—the people we care about makes us happy. So let us spoil you a little bit. Please?"

The way he said it, like it was important to him, like he needed you to accept it—you couldn't say no.

"Okay," you said. "A little bit. But nothing too extravagant."

"Fizz is going to be so disappointed," Ozzie said, but he was smiling. "He already has a jewelry consultation scheduled for next week."

"Ozzie!"

"I'm kidding!" Ozzie said, though his expression suggested he might not be entirely kidding. "Mostly kidding. Sixty percent kidding."

Before you could respond, you heard the front door open again, followed by Fizz's voice calling out "Food has arrived! I come bearing gifts of fish and rice! Prepare to be amazed by my ability to spend obscene amounts of money on raw fish!"

The dining room table was quickly covered in an truly absurd amount of sushi. Fizz hadn't been exaggerating when he said he'd ordered everything—there were at least fifteen different rolls, several orders of sashimi, tempura that was still steaming, miso soup, edamame, onigiri, and several items you couldn't immediately identify.

"Froggie," Ozzie said, looking at the spread with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. "This is enough food for twenty people."

"Or three very hungry people!" Fizz countered, already settling at the table with his usual chaotic energy. "Plus leftovers! I told cutie, future us will thank present us!"

"Future us is going to be eating sushi for a week," Ozzie said, but he was already sitting down, carefully arranging himself at the table.

You settled between them, looking at the variety of options. "I don't even know where to start."

"Start here!" Fizz said, immediately putting several pieces on your plate. "This is the rainbow roll—it's got like seven different fish on it, very aesthetic, very delicious. And this one is the dragon roll, which has eel and is topped with avocado and looks cool. And this one—"

"Fizz, let her choose," Ozzie said gently.

"I'm helping her choose!" Fizz protested. "There are too many options! This is a guidance service I'm providing! Very valuable!"

Despite his protests, he did stop adding to your plate, instead turning his attention to his own food. You watched with amusement as he tried to use chopsticks with his mechanical hands—the precision was there, but he kept adjusting his grip like he wasn't quite sure how much pressure to use.

"These are harder than they look," Fizz muttered, successfully picking up a piece of sushi only to have it fall apart halfway to his mouth. "Who invented these? Chopsticks are a conspiracy to make eating difficult!"

"You juggle flaming pins for a living," Ozzie pointed out.

"That's different! Flaming pins are designed to be thrown! Chopsticks are designed by sadists!"

You giggled, successfully managing your own chopsticks to eat a piece of the rainbow roll. It was delicious—fresh and flavorful and nothing like any sushi you'd had on Earth.

"Good?" Fizz asked, watching you with bright, attentive eyes.

"Really good," you confirmed. "You did good with the order."

"See?" Fizz said to Ozzie. "I made excellent choices! I'm a decision-making genius!"

"You ordered enough food to feed a small army," Ozzie said dryly.

"A well-fed small army!" Fizz corrected.

The meal continued with easy conversation, the three of you sharing food and stories from your day. Fizz recounted a moment during his performance where he'd nearly dropped a juggling pin and had to improvise an entire bit around it. Ozzie talked about some new product designs his factory was developing. You told them about your grocery list project, which led to a fifteen-minute discussion about snack preferences.

You were reaching for another piece of sushi when you noticed movement from the corner of your eye. One of the Quevies—the troublemaker one, you'd learned to recognize them all by now—had crept up to the table and was staring at Fizz with big, pleading eyes.

Fizz, without even pausing his conversation with Ozzie, picked up a piece of sashimi and dropped it down to the Quevy, who caught it with a happy little chirp.

"Babe" Ozzie said warningly.

"What?" Fizz asked innocently, even as another Quevy approached and he handed over another piece.

"You're feeding them table scraps again."

"It's fish! Fish is healthy! I'm promoting good nutrition for the babies!"

"They have their own food," Ozzie pointed out.

"But this fish is fancy!" Fizz argued. "I paid good money for this fish! The babies deserve fancy fish too!"

More Quevies were appearing now, drawn by the promise of treats. Soon there were five of them clustered around Fizz's chair, all looking up with varying degrees of desperation.

"You're creating a pack of monsters," Ozzie said, but there was no real heat in it. "They're going to expect fancy sushi every night now."

"Good! They should have high standards! I'm teaching them self-worth!" Fizz dropped several more pieces to the increasingly excited Quevies.

Even Precious had wheeled over in her little wheelchair, positioning herself hopefully near the table. Fizz immediately gave her two pieces, which she accepted with regal dignity.

"You're spoiling them," you said, amused.

"I spoil everyone I care about!" Fizz declared. "It's my love language! Excessive gift-giving and feeding behavior!"

"Your love language is chaos," Ozzie corrected.

"Chaotic gift-giving!" Fizz amended. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to distribute fish to my adoring fans."

By the time the meal was finished, the Quevies had eaten almost as much as you had, and Fizz looked enormously pleased with himself despite Ozzie's long-suffering sighs.

Later, after the sushi had been packed away, there were indeed enough leftovers for several days, after the Quevies had been corralled back to their sleeping area, after you'd all gotten ready for bed—you found yourself in the massive round bed.

It had become routine now, this nighttime ritual. You'd change into sleep clothes, brush your teeth, go through all the normal bedtime motions. And then you'd all settle into bed together—usually with you somewhere in the middle, Ozzie taking up a significant portion of the space, and Fizz sprawling wherever he could find room.

You were already under the covers, settled in the pillows, when Fizz's head emerged from under the mass of blankets with his usual energetic chaos.

"Okay, so I've been thinking—dangerous, I know, what if we got a Quevy-sized obstacle course? Like, tiny hoops and tunnels and—" He stopped mid-sentence when his eyes landed on you. "—and I just forgot what I was talking about because you look really cute right now."

Your face immediately heated. "I'm just... in bed. Like normal."

"Yeah, but you're in our bed," Fizz said, and there was something in his tone that made your stomach flip. "In that shirt that's definitely mine, by the way. I noticed. I notice everything. Very observant, that's me."

He settled next to you, and you could feel the heat radiating from him. One of his mechanical hands reached out to touch your arm, the movement casual but deliberate.

Ozzie was already in bed on your other side, propped up against the headboard, his expression a soft, intimate glow. He wasn't saying anything, just watching with those knowing eyes, and somehow that made you feel bashful.

"So!" Fizz continued, his voice taking on that rapid-fire quality that could have been excitement or nerves or both. "This is cozy! Very cozy! You comfortable, cutie?"

"I'm comfortable," you managed, though your voice came out quieter than intended.

"Good! Great! Fantastic!" Fizz's hand moved from your arm to your waist, and you felt your breath hitch at the touch. "I'm comfortable too. Very comfortable. So comfortable I might just—" He shifted closer, his face now inches from yours. "—stay right here."

You could see the way his eyes kept darting down to your lips, then back up to meet your gaze. The nervous energy was still there, but there was something else now too. Something heated and wanting that made you swallow thickly.

"You're staring," you whispered.

"You're really pretty," Fizz said immediately. "I'm allowed to stare. It's in the handbook. Staring at your gorgeous girl is not only allowed but encouraged.'"

"I don't think that's a real handbook," you said, but you were smiling despite yourself.

You turned your head slightly and Fizz met you halfway. The kiss started soft—tentative on your part—but he responded with that familiar chaotic enthusiasm tempered by care. Fizz's raspy voice humming approval against your lips as his tongue brushed yours playfully, tasting faintly of sour candy and smoke.

The kiss lingered, growing slower and more intent, mouths moving together in a warm, unhurried rhythm that made everything else fade.

While the kiss stretched on, your fingers brushed against his. Slowly, almost shyly at first, you traced the lines of his mechanical fingers—feeling the smooth metal joints. Fizz made a soft, surprised sound into the kiss, then mirrored you.

His fingertips danced lightly over yours, tracing each knuckle and the delicate skin between them with surprising gentleness, as if committing every detail to memory. The slow exploration sent little sparks through you both.

Gradually, your fingers slid together and intertwined, squeezing gently.

Fizz’s grip tightened just enough to feel secure, his thumb brushing back and forth over the back of your hand in a soothing rhythm that matched the slow slide of his tongue against yours.

When you finally pulled back for air, cheeks burning, Fizz grinned wide, pink eyes sparkling even as a tiny nervous twitch flicked through his tail.

“I've been thinking about this for so long Cutie.” he said, One of his hands came up to cup your face, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the mechanical nature of his prosthetics, while the other hand on your waist, pressed in slightly like he needed to confirm you were real.

He kissed you again, this time deeper, exploratory, and you found yourself pressing closer to him, your hands coming up to grip his shirt.

Fizz made a small sound against your mouth, something between a moan and a whimper, and his hand on your waist slid slightly lower, fingers spreading across your hip. Even through the fabric of your shirt and sleep shorts, his touch felt electric.

When you broke apart this time, you were both flushed and breathing hard. Fizz's eyes were dark, his usual manic energy channeled into something more focused, more intense.

"You're so—" He stopped, seeming to struggle for words. "I want—can I—" His hand on your hip tightened slightly. "There's so much I want to do right now. So many things I've been thinking about. You have no idea how many things."

Your hand came up to touch his face, and he immediately leaned into the contact, his eyes fluttering closed for just a moment.

"I'm a little nervous," you admitted quietly.

Fizz's eyes opened, something vulnerable flickering across his face before his expression shifted to concern. "Hey, we don't have to—look just because i said—if you're not ready cutie, we can just—"

"I didn't say I didn't want to," you interrupted, your face heating. "I just... You're both so... experienced, and I don't want to mess up or—"

"Cutie," Fizz said, and his voice had gone soft in a way it rarely did. "You couldn't mess this up if you tried. Trust me. Just being here with you is—" He seemed to struggle with the words again. "Everything."

Ozzie's hand came to rest on your back, warm and grounding. "He's right, little one. There's no wrong way to do any of this."

Encouraged by their words, you let yourself relax slightly. Fizz took that as permission to continue, his hand sliding under your shirt to trace patterns on your side.

"Is this okay?" he asked, his fingers dancing along your ribs.

"Yes," you breathed, and Fizz's grin returned, sharper now.

"Good. Because I've got a lot of ground to cover." His hand slid higher, thumb brushing just under the curve of your breast. "And I'm very thorough. Very detail-oriented when I want to be. Which I definitely want to be right now."

He leaned in to kiss you again, this time trailing his lips from your mouth to your jaw, then down to your neck. The sensation made you gasp, your hands tightening in his shirt, and you felt him smile against your skin.

"You make the best sounds," Fizz murmured against your neck. "Been wondering what you'd sound like. Thought about it a lot. Like, a concerning amount. Ozzie can confirm."

"I can," Ozzie said, his voice carrying a hint of amusement mixed with heat. "He's been quite distracted lately."

"Can you blame me?" Fizz asked, pulling back to look at you, his expression intense. "Look at her, Oz. She's—" His hand slid back down to your waist, then tentatively to your thigh, his touch feather-light, his eyes searching your face.

"Too much?" he asked softly.

Your face was burning, but you shook your head, and Fizz's hand settled more firmly on your thigh, his mechanical fingers warm through the thin fabric of your shorts.

"You're so soft," he said, something like awe in his voice. "Everything about you is so soft and—" His hand squeezed gently, and you felt his breath hitch. "Fuck, you're really ...you're really letting me touch you."

"Where else do you want to touch?" you asked, your face flushing at the boldness of the words.

Fizz's eyes went wide, then darkened. "Everywhere," he said honestly. "I want to touch everywhere. Want to learn every part of you. Want to know what makes you gasp, what makes you moan, what makes you—"

His hand started sliding higher on your thigh, and you felt yourself tense—not from fear, but from anticipation mixed with nervousness.

"Fizz—" You struggled for words. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do... Well ok no I kinda do... I just ... My hands are just... here." You gestured awkwardly with your hands that were still gripping his shirt

"You can touch me," Fizz said, his voice going rough as he unbuttoned the little heart buttons on his pajama top. "Please ... I'm like dying here, cutie. Touch me anywhere. Everywhere. I'm not picky."

Tentatively, you let your hands settle on his chest. His skin was warm under your palms, you could feel his heartbeat, rapid and strong, matching your own frantic rhythm.

"Is this okay?" you asked, your fingers tracing the lines where red and white intersected, where scars met skin.

"Better than okay," Fizz said, his voice strained. "That's—yeah. Keep doing that."

Encouraged, you let your hands explore more freely, mapping the planes of his chest, the dip of his waist, feeling the way he shivered under your touch. When your fingers brushed over one of his shoulders, where flesh met metal, Fizz made a sound that was definitely a moan.

"Too sensitive?" you asked, jerking you hand back between you.

When you glanced sideways you caught Ozzie watching the two of you with that heated, indulgent gaze, your nerves spiked. You buried your head against Fizz’s shoulder, hiding your burning face in the crook of his neck, a small embarrassed whimper escaping you.

Fizz let out a soft, surprised laugh that vibrated against your cheek, though you could feel the faint tremble in his frame too. “Hey … where’d you go, cutie?” he teased gently, voice cracking even as he tried to sound confident. “Don’t hide that pretty face. Oz is just enjoying the show — aren’t you, big daddy?”

Ozzie chuckled low and warm, the sound rich and reassuring as his large hand stroked slowly down Fizz’s back. “I am,” he rumbled, voice like velvet. “You two look beautiful together. So shy and sweet… Look at her hiding, Fizzy — she’s so adorable when she gets flustered.”

When you pulled back Fizz’s eyes searched yours for a long moment, that intense, wanting look still flickering with a hint of his usual chaotic energy. “Can I…?” he asked again, voice dropping lower, almost reverent.

His thumb brushed slow circles over your hip, waiting, always waiting for your answer even when his tail was lashing with barely-contained excitement behind him.

You nodded, breath shallow. “Yes.”

The grin that broke across his face was bright and a little shaky. “Fuck yeah— I mean, good! Great choice, cutie. Best choice.”

He shifted so he was leaning over you more fully, careful not to crowd you too fast. One mechanical hand stayed at your waist while his fingers hooked gently under the waistband of your sleep shorts. He paused there, eyes flicking up to meet yours again.

“Gonna take this off now, okay?” he murmured, voice raspy and soft. “Nice and slow. Tell me if you want me to stop.”

You whispered your agreement, and Fizz let out a small, delighted sound. he peeled them down your legs slowly, kissing every bit of skin he uncovered—your hip, the top of your thigh, the inside of your knee. Once they were gone, he settled between your parted legs, his mechanical hands sliding up your thighs with feather-light pressure, his gaze locked on you like you were the most mesmerizing thing he’d ever seen.

“Shit… look at you,” he breathed, voice cracking just a little. “So pretty. So fucking pretty it hurts.”

His hands returned, both of them now, tracing the newly bared skin with surprising patience. He watched every reaction, cataloguing it—your little gasps, the way your back arched, the way your thighs pressed together.

Ozzie remained quiet on your other side, but you could feel the weight of his warm gaze. One of his large fingers rested lightly on your arm, a steady, grounding presence, offering silent approval as he watched Fizz explore you with such care.

Fizz’s tail curled around your ankle, the spade tip stroking gently up and down your calf as he moved. eyes flicking up to yours once more.

One of his hands moved with aching slowness, fingertips brushing along your inner thigh before finally reaching their destination. He traced gently, reverently—first with just the pads of two fingers, gliding through warmth, learning the shape of you, watching your face the whole time, attuned to every hitch in your breath and every small twitch of your hips.

"Amazing... your amazing Cutie” he murmured, voice low and raspy. His touch stayed careful, exploratory, never rushing. His thumb joined in, pressing soft, lazy circles. Every movement was deliberate, almost tender, as if he was memorizing you by touch alone.

You could feel Ozzie shift slightly beside you, his hand sliding to your thigh, thumb brushing just beside where Fizz was touching you, adding another layer of warmth and sensation without taking over.

Fizz leaned in again, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. This one was slower than before—gentle and unhurried, his mouth moving against yours with a tenderness that made your chest ache. His mechanical fingers never stopped, circling in slow, lazy loops that sent warm sparks through your body.

Ozzie’s finger gently carded through your hair, brushing the strands back from your face with surprising delicacy. The gesture was soothing, grounding—his touch full of quiet affection as he watched the two of you with those warm glowing eyes.

Fizz didn’t look away from your face, his pink gaze stayed fixed on you. “You’re shaking,” he murmured, voice thick with concern.

You laced your fingers through his and lifted your joined hands into his field of vision. “So are you Fizzy—see?” Your fingers gliding down to his wrist and rubbing soothing circles.

Fizz gave a small, nervous laugh that came out more like a whimper. “I just… I want this to feel perfect for you. Every single touch. If I do anything that doesn’t feel right, you gotta tell me right away, okay? I’ll stop. I swear.”

He leaned in and pressed another soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, then to your cheek, all while his fingers continued their tender exploration—never rushing, never pressing too hard, just learning you with that same loving focus. Ozzie’s finger moved back to gentle stroke your hair, offering silent reassurance as Fizz watched your every reaction like it was the most important thing in the world.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he shifted his hips forward, lining himself up against you. The blunt head of him pressed ever so slightly against you, a gentle nudge that made you gasp at the intimate contact.

He froze instantly.

Every muscle in his body locked up, tail going rigid behind him. “Shit—sorry, sorry,” he whispered, voice cracking with worry. His pink eyes were wide, searching your face frantically. “Was that too much? I can stop, we can—”

“Froggie,” Ozzie’s deep, velvety voice rumbled from your side, calm and reassuring. His hand slid from your hair down to rest gently on Fizz’s lower back, offering steady guidance. “She gasped for the same reasons I do. Breathe Fizzy Frog. You’re doing beautifully.”

Fizz swallowed hard, nodding quickly, the nervous twitch in his tail easing just a fraction under Ozzie’s touch and words. “Okay… okay, yeah. Got it.” He leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, then another to the tip of your nose, murmuring praise into your skin.

With Ozzie’s quiet encouragement guiding him, Fizz pressed forward again—agonizingly slow, inch by careful inch. His mechanical hand moved to your hip, thumb stroking soothing circles, while the other braced beside your head. Every tiny movement was accompanied by more soft kisses, to your mouth, your jaw, the sensitive spot just below your ear.

“Your—nghh—fucking incredible,” he whispered between kisses, voice hoarse with emotion. “So warm… so… fuck.”

Ozzie continued murmuring low praise from beside you, his deep tone wrapping around both of you like a warm blanket. “That's it babe. Nice and easy. Listen to her breathing… Keep going just like that.”

When Fizz was finally fully seated inside you, buried to the hilt in that tight, fluttering heat, he let out a shaky, broken moan against your mouth. Both of you were trembling, bodies pressed close, hearts racing in sync.

You shyly nuzzled into the crook of his neck, hiding your flushed face again, breathing in his familiar scent of smoke and sour candy mixed with the clean warmth of his skin. Your arms came up to wrap around his neck, holding him close as you pressed soft, almost timid kisses along the side of his throat.

Fizz made a soft, overwhelmed sound and buried his face in your hair, one mechanical arm sliding under your back to pull you even closer while the other hand gently cupped the back of your head. “Oh, cutie… you’re so ... so much better then i imagined.” he whispered, voice thick and adoring. “I love this… just ... OH SATAN ... just this.”

Ozzie leaned in to press a slow, tender kiss to your temple. “That’s it, Little one,” he murmured warmly. “There’s nothing sweeter than this, you look like a masterpiece.”

Fizz stayed perfectly still for a long moment, savoring the closeness, peppering your neck and shoulder with the gentlest kisses while his tail stroked lovingly along your thigh. The trembling slowly eased into a shared, contented warmth as you remained nuzzled against him, safe and cherished between your two men.

Your thumbs stroked Fizz’s cheeks in wide, gentle arches, tracing the smooth lines of his face as your breath came out in soft little pants and quiet groans. “You’re beautiful,” you managed between shaky breaths, voice breathy and full of feeling. “So beautiful Fizzy.”

Fizz’s pink eyes fluttered at your words, a soft, overwhelmed sound escaping him as he leaned into your touch. “Me? Beautiful?” he rasped, voice cracking with a mix of disbelief and delight. “Cutie, stoppppp, you’re gonna make me cry.”

Ozzie’s deep, velvety voice rolled beside you like warm honey. “Look at you two… so sweet together. Such artistry” With infinite care he used one of his fingers to gently hook your leg, the one closest to him outward, easing it a little closer toward his body. Your leg spreading just that bit further beneath Fizz, opening you up further while keeping everything slow and intimate.

“There we go… nice and easy. You ok babe ?”

"Yea.. M'ok" You nodded, eyes half-lidded.

Fizz carefully cupped your cheek with one mechanical hand and gently guided your head back and down to the pillows below. His glowing pink eyes searched yours with adoring intensity before he nuzzled his face softly against your nose—an affectionate little rub, warm and playful.

“Our gorgeous little cutie,” he whispered, voice raspy and thick with emotion. “Wanna see your face, gotta make sure I’m doing this jussstttt right.”

He started moving then—very shallow, careful rolls of his hips. Barely pulling out before pressing back in, keeping himself nestled deep inside you with gentle, thrusts that rocked you both together.

Ozzie leaned in closer from your other side, his massive frame radiating warmth. His deep, velvety voice dropped to a low, intimate whisper meant only for Fizz—something soft and encouraging that you can't make out.

Whatever it was, Fizz’s expression lit up instantly, the nervous tension melting from his shoulders as a grateful little smile tugged at his lips. He nodded once, eyes never leaving your face.

“Got it, Oz,” Fizz murmured back, voice thick with affection.

One of his mechanical hands slid between your bodies. His fingertips found your sensitive bundle of nerves, rubbing slow, gentle circles. The added stimulation sent a fresh wave of heat building low in your belly—warm, coiling pleasure that made you flutter around him.

Fizz groaned softly, forehead resting against yours as he kept up those tender thrusts and the steady rub of his fingers. “That feel good, cutie?" His voice was raspy and adoring, full of that rapid-fire warmth even when he was trying to stay gentle.

"So good—ahh—So fucking good" you groaned, arching into Fizz as the heat in your belly tightening deliciously with every rock of his hips and every careful circle of his fingers.

Ozzie’s finger stayed on your thigh, holding you gently while he pressing slow kisses to your shoulder, cheek, forehead and Fizz's mouth, murmuring low words of praise that wrapped around both of you.

“Beautiful indeed,” Ozzie rumbled softly, his tone full of sensual approval. “Froggie is taking such good care of you…You’re a marvel little one.”

Fizz nuzzled his nose against yours, breath mingling in warm little puffs as his fingers kept up their gentle rhythm and his hips continued rolling into you in waves. “Hear that? Oz thinks we’re beautiful too,” he whispered, voice trembling with pleasure. “But you — you’re the most beautiful thing in any ring. Our cutie…We’ve got you babe.”

The pleasure continued to build low in your belly, sweet and steady, fueled by Fizz’s careful touches, his soft praises, and the reassuring presence of Ozzie beside you.

Ozzie’s massive finger gently brushed along your cheek, warm and grounding. “That’s it, little one,” he murmured, voice deep and velvety with affection. “You’re doing so well.”

You leaned into his touch with a soft sigh, eyes half-lidded and hazy with pleasure. Little sounds spilled from your mouth without control—as your hips rocked up to meet Fizz’s thrusts.

“Ah— nghhh… Fizzy…”

Fizz’s pink eyes were locked on your face, drinking in every flutter of your lashes and every little sound you made. “Fuck, cutie— those sounds… you’re making the prettiest noises for me,” he panted, voice raspy and full of wonder. “Keep going, please. I’ve got you. I’ve got you right here.”

Your hands slid to his mechanical ones. You laced your fingers with his, holding on tight as the pleasure crested higher. The slow drag of Fizz inside you, the steady rub of his fingers, Ozzie’s warm praise and gentle touch on your cheek—everything was building together to a perfect crescendo.

Until your vision suddenly went white a powerful wave of pleasure crashed through you, your body clenching tight around Fizz as those sounds peaked into a broken, breathless moan. Your back arched, fingers squeezing his hands hard while the orgasm rolled through you in long, shuddering waves.

Fizz followed right after you with a choked, ecstatic whimper. His hips stuttered in a few final thrusts as he spilled deep inside you, warm and pulsing. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, trembling hard against you, mechanical arms wrapping tight around your body as he rode out his own release.

For a long moment the three of you stayed locked together, breathing hard in the warm, quiet afterglow.

Ozzie’s deep voice rumbled with pride and affection. “There we go… you did so good froggie,” he cooed softly to Fizz, his large hand stroking gently down Fizz’s back. “So attentive, so careful with our little one. You made her feel so loved and safe. You did everything just right.”

Fizz let out a shaky, happy laugh against your neck, still buried inside you. “Yeah? Cutie you sounded so pretty when you—wait…” He pulled back slightly, blinking down at your face when he realized you weren’t responding. Your eyes were closed, body limp and relaxed in his arms.

“Cutie?” Fizz’s voice turned worried. He gently squeezed your hand, then brushed his mechanical fingers over your cheek. “Hey… you okay? Come on, open those eyes for us?”

When you didn’t stir, Fizz’s tail flicked anxiously.

“Oz? She’s not waking up. OZZIE, SHIT— shit, did I go too far? She was making all those cute sounds and then she just…”

Ozzie’s expression flickered with worry, his glowing eyes narrowing for half a second as he leaned in closer. One large hand came up to rest lightly on your forehead, checking your temperature and breathing.

“Easy, froggie,” he said, voice still mostly calm but with a protective edge. “She’s breathing fine. Just—give her a second. You were so gentle with her… she’s...she'll be ok."

Fizz nodded quickly, still looking anxious as he pressed soft kisses to your temple and cheeks. “Okay… okay, yeah. Come on, cutie. Wake up for me? I need to see those eyes. Please I I—don’t scare me like this…”

"Little one," Ozzie said, his voice closer now, his large finger brushing hair back from your forehead. "Can you hear us?"

You tried to respond, tried to open your eyes, but your body felt like it was made of lead, refusing to let you respond.

"She's not responding," Fizz said, the worry ramping up in his voice. "Oz, what if I—what if we did too much? What if I hurt her somehow? What if—"

"Fizz, breathe," Ozzie interrupted firmly. "Look at her face. Does she look distressed?"

There was a pause. "No," Fizz admitted. "She looks... peaceful. Happy, even."

"Exactly," Ozzie said. "Humans need more rest than demons do, especially after intense experiences. She's fine. Just give her a moment."

You felt Fizz's hand on your face again, gentle and worried. "Cutie? Can you wake up for us? Just for a second? Just so I know you're okay?"

With monumental effort, you managed to crack your eyes open slightly. The world was blurry, and you felt boneless, completely wrung out. "Mmph," you managed eloquently.

"Oh thank fuck," Fizz breathed, and you felt him press a kiss to your forehead. "You scared me, cutie. You were so out of it."

"Tired," you mumbled, your words slurring together. "So tired. Happy though. Very happy."

"That's good," Ozzie said warmly, his finger still stroking your hair. "That's very good, little one. But we should get you cleaned up before you fall asleep properly. Think you can stay awake for a bath?"

"Bath?" you repeated, trying to process the word through the fog in your brain.

"Yeah, bath," Fizz said, and you could hear the smile in his voice now that his panic was fading. "Get you all clean and comfortable. Then you can sleep as much as you want."

"'Kay," you agreed, though you made no move to actually get up.

Fizz laughed softly. "I don't think she's capable of walking right now, Oz."

"I can carry her," Ozzie said, and you felt yourself being carefully lifted, cradled against his warm chest. "Come on, little one. Bath time."

The bathroom was as excessive as everything else in the palace—enormous, with a tub that could easily fit Ozzie's massive frame. The tub was large and heart-shaped you found it both ridiculous and charming.

Fizz was already moving ahead, turning on the water and adjusting the temperature. "Not too hot," he muttered to himself. "Our cutie can't handle the same temperatures we can. Warm but not scalding. OoOOoooh maybe some of these bath oils? And these little bath thingy's they smell like butterscotch!"

You watched him through half-closed eyes, touched by how attentive he was being, Ozzie set you down carefully on the edge of the tub, keeping one hand on you to make sure you didn't topple over. "Think you can manage from here, Froggie, or do you need help?"

"Help," you slurred, too tired to be embarrassed. "Please."

"I've got her," Fizz said, moving to your side. "You go get snacks or something, Oz. We're gonna be a minute."

Ozzie hesitated, clearly torn between wanting to help and wanting to feed you both "Alright," Ozzie said finally. "I'll be right back. Fizz, if you need anything—"

"I'll yell," Fizz promised. "Now go. We're fine."

Once Ozzie left, Fizz turned his full attention to you. "Into the tub, cutie," he said softly, helping you step into the warm water. "There we go. Careful."

The water was perfect—warm enough to soothe your tired muscles but not so hot it was uncomfortable. You sank into it with a grateful sigh, feeling the tension drain from your body.

Fizz climbed in after you, settling so you were facing each other. The scars that covered his body were still visible in the soft light, along with the seems where his mechanical limbs connected.

"Gonna get you cleaned up," Fizz said, reaching for a soft washcloth and soap. "Just relax, okay? Let me take care of you."

He started with your shoulders, the cloth moving in gentle circles, washing away the sweat and evidence of your affections.

"You were so beautiful tonight," Fizz said quietly as he worked. "So responsive and trusting and perfect. I can't believe I get to have this. Get to have you."

You felt more alert now, the warm water and Fizz's gentle ministrations bringing you back to fuller consciousness. And with that awareness came a desire—to care for him the way he was caring for you.

"Fizzy?" you said softly.

"Yeah, cutie?"

"Can I... can I help? With you?" Your face felt hot despite the bath water. "I want to take care of you too."

Fizz's hands stilled for a moment, and when you looked at his face, his expression was soft and a little surprised. "You want to?"

"Yes," you said. "Please?"

"Okay," Fizz said, his voice rough with emotion. "Yeah, okay."

You reached for the washcloth, adding more soap with slightly shaking hands. Fizz watched you, his eyes following your every movement.

Starting with his shoulders—careful around the parts where metal met flesh—you began to wash him with the same gentle care he'd shown you. His skin was warm under your touch, scarred but alive, and you felt him shiver slightly as you worked.

"Is this okay?" you asked.

"More than okay," Fizz breathed. "Nobody's ever... I mean, Ozzie helps sometimes, but you're..." He trailed off, seeming unable to find the words.

You moved the cloth lower, washing his chest, being extra careful around the more damaged areas. Fizz watched you the whole time, his expression open and vulnerable in a way you'd rarely seen.

"You don't have to be that careful around the scars," Fizz said quietly. "They don't hurt. I can't feel that much there, actually."

"I know," you said. "But I want to be gentle anyway. Because you deserve gentleness."

Fizz made a small, choked sound, and when you looked up, his eyes were bright with unshed tears.

"You're determined to make me cry tonight," he said, his voice wavering. "That's not fair, cutie."

"Sorry," you said, continuing your gentle ministrations.

"Don't be," Fizz said. "I just—I'm not used to being taken care of like this, by anyone other then Ozzie. Being treated like I'm worth being careful with."

"You are," you said firmly. "You're worth all the care in the world, Fizzy."

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to your forehead and you stayed like that for a long moment, the water warm around you both, sharing breath and space and something that felt too big to name.

Eventually, you finished washing him, and he finished washing you, and you both just sat there in the water, facing each other, hands loosely clasped between you.

"Thank you," Fizz said softly. "For tonight. For trusting me. For letting me be close to you."

"Thank you for being gentle," you replied. "For being patient with me. For letting Ozzie help guide you."

"Couldn't have done it without him," Fizz admitted. "Or you."

Before you could respond, the bathroom door opened and Ozzie returned, carrying a tray laden with snacks and drinks. His eyes took in the scene—you and Fizz in the bath, facing each other, clearly having shared something tender—and his expression went impossibly soft.

"Well," Ozzie said, his voice warm with approval. "Don't you two look like a picture."

"We're pruning," Fizz said, but he was smiling.

"Beautifully pruning," Ozzie corrected, setting the tray down on the counter. "That was quite the show earlier. Both of you were magnificent."

You felt your face heat up, and Fizz laughed.

"She's blushing," Fizz observed. "Even after everything we just did, she's blushing."

"It's endearing," Ozzie said, moving closer to the tub. "And I mean what I said. You were both wonderful. Fizz, you were attentive and communicative. And little one, you were responsive and trusting and absolutely radiant."

"Stop," you protested weakly, covering your face with your hands.

"Never," Ozzie said, clearly amused. "You're going to have to get used to being praised, little one. Because both Froggie and I plan to do it frequently."

"So frequently," Fizz agreed, grinning. "Like, all the time. It's going to be annoying how much we tell you how amazing you are."

"I think I'll find a way to live with that," you admitted, lowering your hands.

"Good," Ozzie said, satisfaction clear in his voice. "Now, are you two going to stay in there until you turn into raisins, or would you like to get out and have some snacks?"

"Snacks sound good," Fizz said, already moving to help you stand. "Come on, cutie. Let's get dried off."

Ozzie helped too, producing impossibly soft towels that he wrapped around both of you. Fizz's mechanical limbs made quick work of drying himself, and then he helped you, his touches still gentle and careful.

Once you were both dry and wrapped in comfortable robes, Ozzie guided you both back to the bedroom, where he set the snacks on a low table near the bed.

The snacks were perfect—light enough not to be heavy on your stomach. You and Fizz settled on the bed, Ozzie joining you, and the three of you shared food and quiet conversation, the intimacy of earlier shifting into something softer, more domestic.

"This is nice," you said, already feeling your eyes getting heavy again.

"Sleep, little one," Ozzie said gently, noticing. "You've had a long day. A good day, but long."

BLITZØ

Honestly, it depends on what type of relationship you have with him

Familial relationship? Best BELIEVE he’s coddling the shit outta you rn

^ def a cheek pincher

“Hey sweetie? Do you need me ta fuck someone up for ya?”

But if y’all are platonic, or SATAN FORBID

R O M A N T I C ?

Ur not getting Shit

Well, until you start crying

“You’re a fuckin’ baby, you know that?”

Very casual hugs

Always sits his chin on you

Will complain the entire time

But you both know he loves you

LOONA

“Oh shit, you good?”

She’s blunt, not heartless

Honestly pretty touched that you asked for a hug instead of just going for one

Like her adoptive dad, very casual hugs

Usually just slings an arm over your shoulders

Won’t talk to you about it

Y’all just sit in comforting silence

Don’t let anyone point out that she’s letting you touch her

Will get v flustered

Depending on how you both feel - may let you play with her hair to self regulate

MILLIE

“Sure thing, hun!”

Doesn’t matter who you are, or why you need a hug, she’ll take it

Physical affection is her top love language idc

Squeezes super super tight

Like, you can barely breathe

Gushes over how sweet you are

Will probs pepper your face in kisses too (doesn’t matter what ur relationship with her is)

((Millie is a strong believer in non-romantic kisses, she told me herself))

Will probs ask Moxxie to bring y’all a drink

MOXXIE

“Uhh, you sure you want a hug from me?”

Yes babe I’m sure

Doesn’t think he’s the best one to be comforting you - will palm you off to Millie if he can

But will be offended if anyone else says he can’t look after you

^^ Gets all huffy about it

Distraction is his new best friend

Will tell you a mixture of stories and fun facts to try and make you feel better

Will also make you a hot drink

If you want to, will talk out your feelings with you

STOLAS

Babes just blinks for a hot minute as your words register with him

Has the softest smile

“Of course, dearest. Come here.”

A hug isn’t enough for him, you’re in for a full blown cuddle sesh now

Likes the feeling of having you fully wrapped up in his arms

Forehead kisses. Forehead Kisses.

Will sometimes swaddle you in blankets like a literal baby

Hums softly for you

Tries to ask what’s wrong, will def push the subject

He just wants to fix it, okay?

Will just,,, smother you in affection until you’re okay

And then some

OCTAVIA

Judgemental eyebrow raise.

Judgy, judgy girl

Y’all gotta be CLOSE for her to hug

((But not really, she’s so touch starved its not funny, but we don’t talk about that-))

Long, comforting hugs

If u end up crying, will fix your makeup for you

Don’t mention it though

Like, literally don’t mention it or it won’t happen again

She probs just breathes a sigh of relief when y’all hugs

Holds on a little too tight, for a little too long

If you ask first, she’ll start coming to you for hugs now too

FIZZAROLLI

Baby. Baby, baby man.

Will wrap his arms around you several times over

Another really tight hugger

You had shit to do?

Sike, not anymore

Now you’re spending all day with Fizz

Your fault, you started it by asking for a hug

Is super worried about you, but tries to play it down

Will do stupid shit just to see you laugh

Will ALSO flirt with you until you can’t stand it anymore

ASMODEUS

Immediately concerned, does not try to hide it

Much like his bf, cancels all plans for today

Y’all are gonna be chilling in bed and cuddling now

Just kinda,,, scoops you up?

Definitely plays with your hair

Gives a SOLID head massage

So so gentle and sweet

Just lays you on his chest

Draws pictures on your back and makes you guess what he’s drawing

^^ he does this to help ground you

Tbh he’ll probably drag Fizz to bed too, so know they’re both looking after you

The height difference makes him feral. He is at least a couple feet taller than you. So he likes to use this to his advantage. By manhandling you. he will pick you up, grab your waist, literally rip your legs off of its hinges when he pulls them apart, etc. So, he likes when you are shorter than him. It gives him a power influx, and it makes him feel supreme to you. So he will basically use you like a glorified sex doll.

He will purposely make himself transform into a couple feet taller. Like a big, scary spider. So he can intimidate you, and get you riled up. He wont have actual penetrative sex with you in his big spider form, but he will eat you out.

And he delivers very well. His tongue is huge. You feel like your in cloud 9 whenever he eats your pussy, especially because he does not do it very often.

his favorite position, especially due to his size, is Full Nelson. He likes how in this position, he has complete control over you. With his upper hands behind your knees, his hips under your own, and his lower arms circling your sensitive clit, and his other hand pussy slapping you. Sometimes, he will place you in front of a big mirror, while hammering his hips into your vice, little pussy. Also making you look at yourself, being utterly destroyed by his large cock. He will tie your ankles together with his webs when he does this.

His other favorite is picking you up, and putting his hands under your legs and throwing them over his shoulders. He enjoys listening to the skin slapping sounds, and how lude they sound. And seeing your reactions to his every harsh thrust to your G-spot. And how especially cramped you are between his body, his cock, and his arms, with a tight grip on your ass. This position makes you more sensitive and vulnerable, which is just where he wants you.

Belly Bulge. Need I say more? It makes him laugh, and chuckle about how 'your gonna take it- fuck, yeah, you like that don't you- little fuckin' slut-'

It makes him realize just how large he is compared to you. How much he effects you and your body. He craves this kind of dominance over you.

He is a little bastard. When he sees you have a belly bulge from his constant plummeting, he will press down onto it. This, as he is well aware of, makes you see stars. You become a moaning, drooling, babbling mess under his large self. Which is what he wants, of course.

The sheer size of his dick. He cant help but feel aroused, when he compares you and his cock side by side. Every now and then, he will have you sat right behind it, while he holds you, and just admire how small you are. He has to prep you for your first time together, and even every single time you guys do have sex. Simply because of the size of it. And its not just long, its girthy too. So if you dont have some prep, he might end up abominating your poor womb.

He especially likes seeing you struggle, especially when you give him head. you can barely fit your mouth around it. Your jaw gets sore within literal seconds of putting his member in your mouth. So you have to use your hands (which also barely touch eachother), for the rest of his cock.

Overstimulating you. His favorite way of overstimulation you is with his arms and hands. He will have you trapped in between his legs. One of his lower arms will be fingering your supple core; the other one circling harshly around your clit. One of his upper hands holding your waist up; the other one toying with your breast and sensitive, puffy nipples.

He also likes overstimulating you, by having you cock warm him. Its one of his favorite past times. Especially when you two try to be sneaky, like during his pageants ontop of the webbing. (should I make a whole other post about this??) He just loves feeling the warmth of your pussy against his cold self. And he wont let you move. Like at all. Unless he grabs your hips and forcibly bounces you up and down, which is after a while of waiting of course.

Dirty talk. He loves making you feel smaller, so he will talk down upon you. Everything he calls you starts with 'my', because he is very possessive. things like "my slut", "my whore", "my princess", etc. He will never talk about you in a truly bad connotation. So he will say things like:

"You like being my little slut, yeah?"

"C'mon, you can take more. don't be a baby."

"yeahhhh. Takin' it like a fuckin' champ. Good fuckin' girl-"

"Oh fuck... shit just like that"

"Ohh yeah- thats some good shit."

"Dont you dare fuckin' move."

"You feelin' good princess? Yeah I bet you are. Fittin' me like a glove."

"Awww you want more? Your gonna have to wait a bit, m'kay?"

"You want it inside? Ya' want daddy to fill ya' up real nice?"

big angry man folding in an instant under his more fierce and wicked partner... except his partner is truly one of the sweetest and most optimistic people youve ever met in your life-- okay... well folding isnt the best word, its more like... heeling... backing down... its not instant but with enough of a glare you can make him sit back and hold his tongue for at least a little bit

which is a lot more than most people can even dream of doing!

sometimes your positivity sickens him but in an odd way he finds it endearing. he only tolerates it from you, if anyone else dared to tell him to look on the bright side or to take a chill pill he would smite them right where they stand

"someones going to die today." "of fun!" thats it thats the dynamic

you have single handedly saved so many lives when hes feeling cranky

doesnt dare speak up against you when you give him the look, he knows better than to try to argue with you when youve decided something isnt a good idea or worth the trouble or hassle

Watching from your spot in the bleachers, sat beside Moxxie and Millie, you let your pride and admiration for Blitzø burst out of you in the form of screaming, cheering and clapping. Of course Blitzø just had to participate in the pain games. You watched as he showed off his skills, stamina and strength all day during the pain games and, to put it simply, you were in awe of him. He and that shady farm hand, Striker, were neck and neck all day. Sure, you’ve seen him at work before, you’ve watched him take the lives of so many living people, you’ve watched him take on unexpected enemies with ease…but this was just a game. Some harvest festival bullshit, that’s what he called it. If that’s all it is, why is he trying so hard to beat some dumb farm hand? Regardless of his reasoning, you supported him through and through, cheering him on from the audience as Stolas announces him and Striker to be tied for first place. “FUCK YEAH, BLITZ!!! WHOOOO!!!”

Hearing his name bellow from your chest in a high pitched yell caught his attention, head turning towards the sound as his eyes lock onto you sitting in the crowd. A smile tugs at his lips as he lifts one of his big hands to give you a wave. Simultaneously, Striker shoots you a devious glare, smirking as he winks at you and waves his hand back at you. The sight of him looking at you with those eyes just…made you shiver. What a creep. Did he really think you were waving at him? As if! But now you notice Blitzø frowning, teeth bared and hands now balled up into tight fists of rage. He was fuming, looking as if he was actively growling and you could see him shaking slightly.

Finally, Blitzø stomps his way off the stage and is on his way to you. This prompts you to jump up and go to him. Carefully shuffling through the crowd, you find Blitzø still looking more pissy than usual. “Hey, you kicked ass, babe! You totally deserved first place. Fuck that other guy.” Your immediate shit talking brings a smirk to Blitzø’s face for just a second before it turns back to a bitter frown. “Blitz… You did your best and I think your best is waaaaay better than that stupid, tacky cowboy and-“

Without letting you get another word in, without even worrying about the fact that you’re in a crowd of wrathians right now, Blitzø grips your wrist and yanks you into him. His lips come smashing into yours, almost painfully at first, but it soon becomes a sloppy, soft, open mouth kiss. And then his other hand falls on your hip for a moment before sliding down to gently fondle your ass. As your lips move messily against his, a surprised ‘hmph!’ comes from your throat when you feel his hand give your butt a squeeze. Quickly pulling back and sucking in a breath, “Blitzø! What’s gotten into you?” You ask with a shy smile, watching as he stumbles further towards you, practically drunk off your lips. “I’m better than him?” He repeats what you had said just a minute ago, his eyes now hungry and darting all over your face and body. “Psh! Of course you are.” Responding with another quick kiss to his lips, you watch as his smile gradually widens, his eyes never leaving your now blushy face.

Then it dawns on you- oh my god he’s jealous. You think back to when you had first met Striker and Millie’s parents, the way Striker was looking you up and down, when he kissed the back of your hand and called you ‘gorgeous’. Yuck. Makes you cringe just thinking about him touching you. What was it he said to you? Something like... ‘You probably have a man, considering how good lookin’ you are…but you should forget about him and come visit me in my room tonight, little one. I’ll show you what a real man is like.’ That’s probably what has Blitzø so annoyed and needy for you…and so pissed that he was tied for first place with that asshole.

Suddenly, Blitzø is dragging you along behind him as you both push through the crowd and make your way back to Millie’s parents’ house. “You okay?” You question softly from behind him. “I will be.” He responds immediately, you can hear the smirk he’s wearing from his tone of voice. In a flash, he’s got you into the guest room he was staying in, flattened out against the bed with him on top of you, his lips unforgiving and desperate against your own.

“Oh~ Jeez, Blitz…Im only yours. You know that right?.” Your lips part finally but he moves back in fast, his lips meeting your neck and slowly kissing down your chest. “Mhm. Tell me more.” He commands between kisses then lets his long, forked tongue drag along your exposed collar bone. “Ah~! I’m all yours. You’re the only one I w-want…fuck.” You lose all focus as Blitzø’s tail slithers up and around your thigh, the pointed end of it gently swiping up and down your crotch. “Blitzzzzz…” Your own moan surprises you a bit but when you look down at Blitzø still enjoying the taste of your collar bone, he’s obviously enjoying this waayyyy too much.

“C’mon…tell me more.” He carefully but firmly grips your face in his hand, his face just inches from yours now and he looks deadly serious, his big eyes searching your face. He’s making you look at him, despite how red your face is and how badly you want to find another spot to rest your gaze. “Who do you belong to?” It comes out of him in a low growl, his mouth back against your skin. “You. You, baby. I’m all yours, Blitz.” You take a moment to enjoy the feeling of his teeth scraping against your neck. “Listen…If this is about when Striker hit on me earlier, you know I-“

“Don’t… don’t say his name. Ever again.” His tone is almost frightening but the expression of pride and satisfaction on his face makes you bite down hard on your lip, your legs quivering as his tail continues to tickle up against your inner thigh. “S-s-sorry…” is all you can mumble out before impulsively reaching up to grab his face and bring it close to yours, continuing the make out session. “Keep saying my name.” He groans into the kiss as your hands begin to travel his body, feeling up his chest and down his sides.

“F-fuuck~ Blitz. Oh! Hmmmm~ Blitz, I love you…I’m all yours, B-Blitzzzzz~.” And now he just can’t control himself, physically or verbally. He completely unravels right before your eyes, huffing as his hands grip your hips, tugging at the waist band of your pants. “Fuuuuuck~ you’re so hot. Yeah, baby. You’re aaaaalllll mine. Only I get to have you like this, only I get to kiss that pretty mouth of yours.” The dirty talk is starting to get to both of you, pulling whines and whimpers from you as Blitzø starts to literally rip your clothes- not fully rip them off of you but his grip on the belt loops of your jeans right now is almost scary. The tighter he grips, the more you hear the seams of the clothing popping.

Just when you thought he would finally yank your pants off and fuck the shit out of you, Blitzø pulls back, checks his phone, then uses the waist band of your pants to pull you up to your feet. He pushes you towards the door, placing a hard smack to your ass before again nudging you forward. “W-what? Where are we-“ You ask, confused and weak at the knees. He holds up his phone, showing a text from Moxxie about Striker and his plan to kill Stolas. “We got a tacky cowboy to get rid of.” You sigh and trudge forward, disappointed and extremely horny now.