End

Aether: THICC

Day 20

Pathetic Vermin

Ao3 Link

Fandom: Helluva Boss

Pairing: Strixxie, Striker/Moxxie

Summary: Striker doesn't often mix pleasure with business, especially not when he was on the job but ever since he'd seen that little vermin Imp, he'd been enjoying making him all kinds of angry flustered and embarrassed - especially in front of his wife. So when the damned Imp just waltzes right into his room alone, well hot Satan ye can't expect him to not get a little fun out of the little vermin. But he doesn't know exactly how much fun he's about to get.

WARNINGS: Noncon/Rape, Rape Fantasy, Rape Roleplay

DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT

Striker meant to stalk after the damned Imp, maybe rustle up his fur a bit like he'd been doing through out the entire festival - watch the way his sharpened teeth grit and his tail flick about angry, cheeks flushed dark with prideful indignation in his gaze - that when the little Imp just waltzed right into his room, well Striker saw his chance to have a little fun before the main event of his job.

He hadn't however taken into account that the little Imp would see his gun nor that he'd accurately be able to identify it and it's dangerous capabilities. His cover was damn near blown.

Or was it?

They were alone in the house after all. Everyone else outside. He had the upper advantage here.

There weren't no way the preceding events were gonna go differently. Not with how much he was wound up and raring to go after watching the little Imp scuttle about. Add the danger of his cover being blown and wanting to wrap his tail around the little imp's throat was intoxicating. He had to play, had to feel the little Imp's body pressed close, struggling - maybe even arcing up against him all wanton like.

He closed the door behind him, Moxxie's posture stiffed yet he continued yammering on about the gun's danger. Striker couldn't very well have that, not to mention with his mouth free he could call out for help.

Striker lashed out his tail, wrapping it expertly around Moxxie's throat. Then he tossed him against the wall.

He wasted no time and pounced. He landed right on top of Moxxie, his body squirming under him, as he held him down with one hand. Moxxie hissed and seethed. And there is was, the indignation glaring up at him. Exactly what Striker wanted, add in the pure as sin darkening of his cheeks, and he was damn near hard against the back of his buckle. Striker shuddered, his teeth dripped as he salivated. He couldn't wait to see what other expressions Moxxie could make.

He raised his free hand and snipped off the cute bowtie Moxxie wore and slid one talon down his button up, revealing red flesh. Moxxie froze at the action. The thumping of his feet behind Striker slowed until they stilled when Striker tugged the last button free and teased the flash of skin that he could see.

Striker glanced up at Moxxie to find his eyes wide and his shoulders shook. There was fear there, oh yes plenty of it. But what was more pleasing and far far more surprising was his lips. Striker caught the words being rasped, listening closely to make sure of the order.

If possible, Striker's mouth filled with more saliva and the hissing rattle he emitted sent Moxxie shuddering against him. Especially when he slid a hand to pluck and scratch Moxxie's nipples and chest. Trailing down and down until he worked open Moxxie's pants and revealed how hard Moxxie was.

"Oh, look at the mess yer about to make." He chuckled with dark intent. Moxxie panted, squirmed left and right - all in a vain attempt to escape Striker's clutches. But all it did was work his little trousers down his hips, revealing more and more of himself, until it was just enough that Striker hitched his thrashing legs up and dropped trou with a flick of his belt buckle. Even with all the saliva he'd built up, it still wouldn't be enough. So he used his tail to grab the lube from his bedside table and worked it around and in Moxxie's vulnerable yet puckering hole.

"This'll hurt just a pinch," Striker growled into Moxxie's ear. He slid in, slow at first - always slow. He expected Moxxie to hiss in pain, to renew his efforts to fight Striker off. But much like the words Moxxie had rasped, his actions made him want him more.

Because Moxxie groaned. Not an in-pain kind of groan, but an, oh-fuck-yes kind of groan. A kind of groan that let you know he was used to the stretch of his hole by a significant cock.

"Yer taking me like a real saint." Striker growled as he inched more inside of Moxxie. "Let me guess, yer little lady likes to top ya?"

Moxxie's head shook back and forth and his hips, by Satan, thrust impatiently against Striker. He laughed. Honest to the seven demon lords of Hell, Moxxie was impatient.

"Quit stalling and just fuck me already, partner." Moxxie growled, impatient and indignant.

Striker howled with laughter. "Sure thing, vermin," and he thrust fully into him.

What followed next was a series of hissing, rattling, and scratching. Striker loved it when they put up a fight. Moxxie sure tried. Which just tickled Striker pink, at least until he was grunting as he rutted against Moxxie, who squirmed and rolled his hips to meet his thrusts.

They got a little enthusiastic with their rutting, they bumped against the side table and whatever had been perched there fell on Striker. He hissed, letting Moxxie go to push the stray bits of glass away.

Moxxie took this opportunity to run, or attempt to. But Striker was faster, and Striker wanted in that hot piece of tail to finish the job. He grabbed his tail, yanking him away from the door that was now open and wrapped both arms around him. He pulled him flush against him. Moxxie struggled, pitching a fight. But Striker was stronger. He clamped a hand over his mouth and all but crushed his throat as he crouched while holding the smaller Imp.

"Pathetic." He hissed softly into Moxie's ear as the longer he held him the less he struggled.

He would have taken the moment to thrust back into him, but the wife - Millie - caught him with his pants around his ankles, as it were.

Stabbed, he hissed and rattled as it came in quick succession. Millie jumped on his back to grapple him. Striker clawed her arm and threw them against the wall, knocking her out. He watched her fall over and he hunched over Moxxie who reached for her.

"Ain't you two paint a darling picture." Striker's grin widened. "Let's add to it." He picked up Moxxie, ensuring he faced his wife when he thrust back into him.

Millie, for all the bluster that she'd entered the room with gaped as she watched him fuck her husband. Moxxie had nothing holding him back now, save for his wife's gaze.

"Why don't you roll your hips like ya did a second ago fer me." Striker ran one lone talon down Moxxie's back and Moxxie did as instructed, moaning in the process.

"Oh honey-" Millie whispered as Moxxie panted and scrambled to keep up with Striker's pace.

Striker for all he'd done so far, didn't care much for Millie. If it weren't for the rush of dark as sin red running up Moxxie's neck, he would have flipped Moxxie over to really watch his expressions. It was more fun that way, especially when he slipped one hand around and teased Moxxie's length until he was spilling.

The smaller Imp tensed when he came, his mouth hung open and his body wound tight against Striker. And then when he finished, his body fell limp.

Which was exactly when Striker thrust with wild abandon until he fill his little vermin up with cum and let him drop.

Satisfied, he stood up and glowered at the two. Moxxie reaching out for Millie, faintly calling her name.

Well, better he hide the both of them now.

Later, when Striker had been chased off, Moxxie and Millie were on their way back to the city, and Blitzo was - thankfully - asleep on the car ride.

"D'ya enjoy yerself hun?" Millie asked.

Moxxie caught the insinuating look his wife sent him.

"Was it everything ya hoped it would be?" Millie followed up with a taunting grin.

Moxxie groaned and covered his face. "Yes!"

Millie giggled. "Too bad he ended up being a brownnosing cocksucking daddyfucker, woulda invited him over for a repeat on account of how ya went spineless when he made ya-"

"Can we not talk about it with our boss in the backseat."

Millie giggled louder, which only woke Blitzo up with questions - questions Moxxie was not answering.

Ok, who is this Trick fool that's causing a pain in everyone's ass?

He's an idiot that just shouldn't even be in this fandom. Radiotrickster basically said that Michael Kovach wasn't respectful to aces, despite being ace himself, because he was being sexual on Hunicast as he did requests for Angel Dust to say certain things. And, apparently, he thinks that Michael forgot Angel was Italian, even though his inspiration for Angel's voice was Joe Pesci, who is of Italian descent.

However, that hardly matters because Trick also doesn't believe that there are any white Italians. If you're from Italy, you're automatically POC. The only places that have mainly or solely white people are Britain, Canada, and America. Um, he also calls me racist because I said Angel has the potential to be white, even though he thinks all these things.

He also accuses me of stalking, despite making a whole blog dedicated to collecting "receipts" for me, constantly makes callout posts, and sent me multiple hate anons.

There's also this other person called Hearts, but meh, whatever. All I did was ask her if she was okay, so she responded by pointing out the three year age gap, as if that meant anything, and then called me "sweetie"/"honey" more than once. To which I said that was very condescending. Now they're saying I was being rude to her....because she's mentally disabled, even though i didn't know that or cared. Besides, that's not an excuse to be an ass.

original: here

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