Hellfire (Demon!junkrat X Reader)

3=Bite

She threw the pile of books onto her bed carelessly, rids herself of the headpiece, and decides to slide of a few of her heavy robes; leaving only the thin undergarments the young woman wore. Being a lot more comfortable, she climbed into her uncomfortable bed, grabbing the first book on the pile.

Flipping through the old, partly stained pages made of dried out leather, the longer she took her time reading the tales of witches and the unholy crafts; the more they begin to fascinate her. These promises of power, immortality, and otherworldly pleasures all seemed so enticing, like they called out for her. It almost seemed as if she just needed to grab them, so close; but the price to pay was one she was unsure if she wanted to give. Giving in to what she had been taught to hate and far for the longest part of her young life, Lucifer, the dark and evil lurking in the unknown at ever given moment. But what did she truly have to lose at this point? She had already sold all she owned to a demon, the most precious thing she owned, herself.

It was in this moment the girl sensed a slithering, hot touch of large, lanky hands slide over her legs; followed by a delighted chuckle. Speak of the devil, there was hers, kneeling in front of her on the wooden bed. "Hehe, whatcha doin there darl?" The creature inquired with a husky tune, it's long, svelte fingers tracing towards her thighs, sending a acute shiver over her spine. "Reading, just plain old fashion reading." She muttered with a coy voice, pressing her back against the coarse wall behind her harder, as if to escape the creature crawling closer to her, a bratty smirk throning on it's lips upon noticing the damsels trepidation.

"If that's all, ya don't need those pesky clothe, so why not get rid a them?" The malicious hint in his voice didn't surprise her, but was enough to further drive her against the wall behind her, struggling to keep a calm, collected rate of breath. She was afraid where this was going, and of how little control she had. "You are a sinful creature, even for a demon." She muttered as it's talons carefully trace along her sides with a attentive flicker in his eyes every inch it's palms trace past.

"Cmon, im trying t' be nice with ya darl, your still so young, I wanna be nice t' ya; but if ya keep being so stubborn I will need t' be a lot more....Forceful. Your mine, n' mine alone, if I wanna hurt ya, I damn will." The growl in its voice made her twitch and quake violently, the sudden change in atmosphere not being a good sign for her in the slightest. "I'm begging you demon, have some courtesy." The maiden whimpered as the creatures slides closer again, the pressure of its hips forcing her to open her legs as his slick torso rubbed against hers with wavering motions.

"Do I look like I give a damn if your ok with this? Your mine Y/N, and that for all time, get that inta' ya stubborn little head." The fiend announced close to her ears, it's mellow hands gripping and tugging the messy strands of her h/c hair backwards against the wall with a near painful jolt, making her look up at him with a bewildered stare; lips trembling and shaking as his hot, fiery breath blew against them.

His cinder eyes flickered up at her scared expression, like the pleading look painted all over her face gave him the sick accomplishment he needed. The creature split, pitch black tongue slithers out close to her lips, making her squeal a little, not as much disgusted as afraid it might burn her skin; tracing over her shut lips, attempting to persuade her to open up to the crude touch.

She stubbornly chews down on her lower lip, as if to make a statement; in the hopes she might still have some control over her body. However when she sensed a sudden touch of warm, rough skinned hands creeping under her garments skirt with a swift gesture, the gasp that escapes her mouth gave him all the free space he needs to push his abstruse tongue into her mouth.

The young woman's eyes rip wide open at the unfamiliar gesture of affection and lust, the taste of the saltuary rough muscle gliding against the back of her throat with coarse, jagged movements enough to make her gag a bit. It's thick saliva has a unusually black tint to it, making it even worse to have it drip into her mouth and slowly slide down her throat. She had never known just how long and viscid his tongue was, tasting like a bitter fusion of smog, soot and salty sweat; making her skin crawl harder at the unpleasant sense.