#all souls smut

[comet-forgot-you]

rough sex with river pls 🙏🙏

smut. 18+ pls.

fucking into her with your strap and shes just a whiny mess underneath you. your hand wrapped lazily around her throat, your pace quick, almost brutal as you fuck into her.

she cant control the moans that fall from her lips, she cant control the way her hips buck up into you. her fingers dig into your back, pulling you closer, before falling to your hips to guide you to fuck impossibly deeper into her.

shes just so desperate, her body all marked up from bruises you had left on her. your fingers dug into her hips, bruises there, deep, angry hickeys left on her thighs, her stomach, her chest. a fading hand print on her ass from when you had her on all fours while you fucked into her.

you were manhandling her into all the positions you wanted. bringing her leg up to fuck deeper inside of her, grabbing her jaw so she would look at you and only you. making her repeat how she was yours, how good you make her feel, or how good you fucked her.

yeah.

[hurlingdown]

tags. soft dom! reader, bottom male character. riding, praise kink.

thinking about teaching a pillow princess how to ride. 

“i c-can’t do it,” he hiccups, holding back a sob, shaking his head as he lifts his hips the best he can on quivery knees, hands poised tightly on your shoulders. you can tell he’s trying, but he can’t even make it all the way to the tip, knees buckling halfway and plummeting back onto your cock as he gargles, loud. “f-feels weird. ‘s too much, baby, i c-can’t.” 

he’s all slicked up, glide easy, but you’re big and girthy and he’s never had someone stretch him out this way before. he wants to be good for you, but it’s so hard. 

“you can,” you murmur, guiding his hips forward in a slow, sensual arch, “don’t bounce, ah-ah, not like that. riding is all about the rolling, sweetheart.” 

he chokes out a soft mewl as he gives an experimental roll forwards, the bulbous head of your cock massaging his stomach walls, making him want to clench. he inches forward, and the right angle sends sparkles floating past his eyes as he gives in the urge to roll them back. “o-oh. that feels reaally good.” 

“feels that good, mm?” you whisper, peppering gentle kisses on his neck as a small reward, making him squirm and giggle in his haze of pleasure. “now try pushing your hips downwards a little when you roll forward. can you do that for me?” 

“y-yeah,” he swallows, obediently pressing his hips against yours snugly every time he grinds forward, the tip of his leaking cock bumping into your abdomen with every circular motion, whimpers bubbling out of parted lips. he’s never felt pleasure this good. he’s panting, no longer trying to pace himself, making little bunny jerks forward as he chases after the addictive feeling of a hard cock moving deep inside him. “oh, hn, ah, s-so good, b-baby.” 

“yeah, that’s it, gorgeous,” you murmur, giving his hips and thighs an encouraging squeeze now and then, and he whines lightly in response, “you’re an absolute natural, love. m-made for riding cock. told you you could do it.” 

“i amm?” he slurs, lidded eyes unable to focus, little breaths pushed out with every jolt while he continues to ride you like he’s been doing it for years, letting out lewd wails whenever you hit his spot just a little too good. “g-gonna, hngh, ride this dick foreva.” 

“good boy,” you mutter fondly, “i’ll keep you here forever, then. keep going, i’m about to cum.” 

masterlist!

[konigsblog]

there's one way to könig's heart, and that's food. 🍰

bake him a batch of cookies and he'll fuck you on the kitchen countertop, your tight ass sore from his balls smacking against your skin. he's growling out, thanking you with sloppy kisses. könig's cock aches inside the tightness of your wet pussy, coating him in your creamy, pearly arousal.

könig wants you to ride him. pinning you against the wall and holding you up with his calloused hands cupping your rear, rutting into your glossy, drooling hole relentlessly while the cake bakes in the oven. the taste of strawberry frosting lingers on his tongue from teasing each other with it, the sweetness, his favourite taste (aside from the taste of your aroused cunny).

mix his love for delicious treats with your body and könig is on cloud nine. he loves when you drip and smear raspberry and chocolate syrup along your stiff, perky nipples so he can wrap his soft lips around them, sucking them while tasting the sugary goodness of the chocolate and the fruitiness of the raspberry.

könig will crush you by laying atop of you. he's curled up against you, your breathing heavy and laborious when könig humps and grinds his swollen, big cock against your slit. chubby!könig will spray whipped cream into your little mouth, tasting the sweet goodness on your lips, the cake cooling in the kitchen, waiting to be decorated.

[highonakuweeds]

POV: Your Alastor's wife and it's October

(A/N: I didn't read anything beforehand, so if you see any weird mix ups of whatever, I'm sure your brain can ignore it thank you <3)

“My dear!” Alastor exclaimed towards you, who was at the bar, conversing with Husk. Your attention changed so that Alastor had it fully, which made Husk roll his eyes and chug a drink down. “Mon amour! How are you this hellish evening? I haven’t seen you all day.”

“Ah, yes well,” Alastor tugged on his coat, his grin somewhat strained. It wasn’t obvious for the majority of the others, but it was to his wife. “Just some irritating demons on the streets, is all; nothing to worry about.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Alastor, I know what that face means.” 

He raised a curious brow. “Do you, now?”

“Mhm.” You sipped the last of your champagne, and thanked Husk for the drink, earning a nod from him. “It means you’re horny.”

…

…

…

“What? Noo!” Alastor attempted to brush off, his eyebrows stitched with disbelief. “You know how I am about anything sexual, dear. I—” “Yes, yes, it’s not really your thing; we all know that. However,” light flickered through your gaze as you bore into Alastor’s eyes. “That doesn’t mean you can’t escape that month you hate so much.”

Alastor remained quiet, his eye twitching. You shrugged. “I mean, hey, if you want to wait it out, suit yourself. People will ask where you’ve gone, and you don’t want them to give in to curiosity, do you?”

He hesitated before grunting, grabbing your wrist, causing you to yelp. “Fine.” 

As your giggles of amusement echoed in the halls, Charlie tilted her head. “What’s he going to do to her? Oh, no, I hope it isn’t anything horrible…”

Angeldust snorted, swirling his pink cocktail before sipping. “Nah, he’s probably gonna fuck’er.”

“What!?”

“Angeldust!” Vaggie exclaimed, causing the spider demon to look at her in surprise. “What? You saw the way he looked at her, plus the way she was teasin’. I thought it was obvious.”

Cherri bomb grinned. “No shit they’re gonna fuck. But it’s kinda weird, don’t cha think? The edgelord finally wants to bang someone.”

Charlie thought about it. “Well, they are married.”

“Wait, they’re fuckin’ what now?”

“Wow, is this month that tough you gotta drag me to your room, Alastor?” You teased, causing him to groan. “You don’t even want to know how much I had to endure for the past couple of days.” He replied. 

Your brows furrowed. “Honey, if it was hurting you, you could’ve asked me way sooner. You know I would’ve been more than happy to help you.”

Alastor laughed, locking his door, and whisking the swamp side of his room away to not let anything disturb them. “Of course, you would’ve been, darling; you’re always so willing to help. Speaking of which, would you be a doll and soundproof the area?”

You cocked an eyebrow, obliging nonetheless. With a flick of your wrist, blue wisps coated his bedroom, leaving some sort of shiny residue scattered in the room. “Oh, I didn’t realize it was going to be a rough night for the both of us…”

“Oh, shut it.” Alastor mumbled before walking towards you. He crashed his lips onto yours, cupping your cheeks with fervor and slight desperation. You let out a noise of surprise before giggling and allowing your husband to do whatever he needed to do. You snaked your arms around Alastor’s neck, scratching the base of his ears, just how he liked it.

He let out a soft sigh of bliss, his steps making the both of them stumble onto the bed, with him on top of your. Before, Alastor normally just locked himself somewhere private, usually his radio tower, until this stupid cycle wore off. But now that his wife, his technical mate, was right where he was currently residing, it was way more difficult than it was before to be cooped up.

He had attempted to take matters into his own hands, both literally and figuratively, and the only thing it gave him was sheer shame and embarrassment, so he had stopped trying. So, to have you below him was such a relief.

And yet, he wanted more. He needed more. 

He needed to taste you, and mark you, and show every single demon that came your way that you were his wife. No one else’s.

Alastor pulled back from the kiss, planting small yet precise marks on your jaw, causing you to softly moan so quietly it riled him up even more. 

He tried his best to keep his composure calm, to hold himself back. But he truly couldn’t with how foggy his mind made everything become. Alastor sunk his teeth into your neck, right below your pulse. You let out an animalistic groan, your back off of the mattress already. “Alastor, love, calm down—”

“Apologies, my dear, but I don’t think I can.” He responded tightly, licking the wound he inflicted fervently, shuddering as the metallic taste hit his tongue. You chuckled, sweeping his hair away from his face. “Alright, then. Do whatever you need to, sweetheart.”

Alastor tried to think clearly, to regain any sort of control he had in his sexual desires, but he so miserably failed. The urge to bite you and mark you and make everyone know that you were his overruled his mind. It was the only thing he could ever think straight at that moment.

“Mine…” He muttered, kissing and sucking on almost every single part of your neck. His hand had other plans, though, as it traced your figure until it reached your hips, and it squeezed hard. 

You let out a yelp and a moan, your breath practically nonexistent as you chuckled. “I’m yours, darling.”

His hand, even if it was just one, grounded you to the bed. You found yourself unable to move, not that you cared, anyway. Alastor rarely needed you in this sort of way, and to have him like this, so desperate, so needy, it made you feel things.

You were not quite sure what was going on hearing-wise, but you felt yourself saying Alastor’s name as a plea. He groaned, pulling himself away from your neck with a strained struggle. He drank you in, his smile still present. You almost laughed as his eyes didn’t match that, though, since they were looking at your outfit in disgust. He adjusted his position to balance himself before snapping it away, leaving you bare.

You gasped at the drop of temperature, causing you to scoff. “Alastor! At least warn a demon.” His deer ears twitched as he descended onto your collarbone, peppering kisses everywhere. “I apologize again, (name). I just…” He took a deep breath in and felt his eyelids fall heavy. “You’re intoxicating…”

At the mention of your name, you stirred slightly, feeling the heat pool down to your core. Alastor must have noticed this, however, since he started trailing kisses around your chest, his favorite part being the underside of it. He nipped at the skin and sucked like a dog in heat.

Well, a deer in rut, but one must digress.

You squirmed in your position as he bit down right before he resumed his trail of kisses down to your stomach. He could feel your arousal like it was his own, and that put him in quite the predicament.

“Aren’t you going to take care of yourself first, Al? You’re practically bursting.” You quietly asked, a hand running through red tufts of hair that was tickling your torso. A low growl escaped Alastor’s throat. “I will; have some patience, love.” Me? You’re literally bulging. “But right now, I need a taste of you…”

Your eyebrows twitched as they creased together. “What are you trying to do—” You cut yourself off with a yelp as Alastor planted a soft kiss on your clit, making your jump. “If I go too far,” Alastor started, gazing up at you through his bangs. “Tell me.”

You nodded, knowing that he never would go too far, and if he did, he would be too busy enjoying his meal to understand that. 

Alastor’s grin just stretched wider before probing his tongue into you, causing you to shudder with a groan at the feeling. You played with his ears, your breath being stolen away. Honestly, if it weren’t for his cannibalistic and homicidal instincts, he would’ve landed a spot in Heaven with how gentlemanly he was, giving you pleasure before indulging in his own.

Alastor was fully aware of the growing tent in his pants, but he paid it no mind, which he was glad he was at least able to do. With that, he knew his mind hadn’t succumbed to the worse thoughts that he dreaded the most.

He lapped and sucked up all of the juices you had to offer, his pace unforgiving and sloppy. You could feel your own claws puncture the mattress with how tight your grip was on it, but you were sure Alastor wouldn’t care later on. He doesn’t really…sleep.

With how quickly Alastor was working against you, you felt that knot in your stomach appear just as fast, making you curse under your breath. For someone who doesn’t really like anything inherently sexual, he sure is a master at it.

Alastor felt it. He felt you getting closer, and he wanted nothing more than to see you writhe in pleasure all because of him, and nothing, or no one, else. The hand that was gripping your thigh to the point of wounds hooked your leg onto his shoulder for the time being, holding it in place as he quickened his pace.

The only thing you could do was whimper and plead and whine. And every single syllable that dropped from your mouth went straight to his arousal, and he cursed internally. A string of violent curses escaped his wife’s lips as you tugged on Alastor’s hair, which led him to hiss in both the pain and pleasure it shamefully gave him. 

“Close—Alastor, wait—!” You managed to cry before snapping, waves of pleasure crashing into you intensely. You let out a demonic groan as Alastor drank you until your high faded.

Your head flopped onto the fluffy pillows of Alastor’s bed, staring at the red head of hair just where your abdomen started. The radio demon rested his head on the inner side of your thigh, catching his breath slightly, which caused a bit of feedback from the voice effect he always had on.

“Are you satisfied?” You asked, tilting your head. Despite the fact that Alastor kept smiling, his brows twitched. He was far from satisfied. 

You laughed, and Alastor could hear a bit of nervousness laced into it. Not that kind that was associated with fear, but the kind that was associated with excitement. 

It’s going to be a long night for the both of them.

You sat up properly before crawling to be in front of Alastor. “It’s quite unfair that I’m the only one bare right now.” You teased, undoing the buttons of his coat. Though, even as you did, he knew how much you enjoyed that power difference.

Alastor didn’t resist as you unbuttoned his waistcoat and shirt underneath. You had stopped undressing him when his shirt hit the strain in his pants, and he felt an annoyed grunt scratching his throat at the lack of friction. “(Name), dear.”

“Hm?”

“You have to stop teasing…”

You scoffed out a laugh. “Is the radio demon attempting to beg right now?” Alastor’s face immediately turned bright red, the cold air that was hitting his bare chest not helping him, either. “Chérie, don’t make me do this—” “What, beg?”

You had figured out how to make it more fun for you, and more cruel for him.

It made him so embarrassingly hard.

Your positions were now flipped, since Alastor had tried (and failed) to cage you in, and so when he crawled towards you, you swiftly went behind him. So now, his back was towards the headboard, his ears pinned back slightly. Without his coat, you could really have a nice view of his small deer tail which was currently tucked in between his legs, barely covering the bulge in front of his pants.

His grin twitched. “So, how are you planning on taking advantage of our current situation?”

You laughed, a finger to his lips to shush him, which made an irk mark appear on his forehead. “Oh, dear Alastor, have some patience! You wanted me to have the same thing just minutes before, right?” Your finger swept to his chin to lift it up as you leaned in closer. So close Alastor heard your pulse.

Your eyes fluttered closed, your lips mere centimeters apart. Alastor sighed, ready to feel the sensation of your soft lips against his, but he only felt the cold air hit it instead. He opened his eyes to find you grinning with an eyebrow raised. His brows dropped as his smile strained, just as much as his pants were. Alastor cleared his throat before giving you an amused gaze. “Do you really think that would work on me?”

You shrugged, leaning forward to straddle yourself on him. He cursed under his breath (a rare scene, honestly. You savored every moment) as he felt himself buck against you. “Well, it did; there’s no real debate about it, hun.” You cupped one of his cheeks, in which he melted into, while tracing the outline of his deer ears with your other hand. You laughed breathlessly. “I’m sorry, your ears are just…absolutely divine.”

Alastor fought back every single moan and whine that you were pulling out of him from playing with his ears. “The things you do to me…” He whispered as he grinded against you slightly, that needed friction making him see stars. 

You almost lost self control at that statement. Just the way Alastor was slowly breaking under you purely because you were touching and prodding at his ears gave you such a power surge. Your hands made their way to his pants, where they undid them and freed Alastor, who had just hissed at the cold air hitting his cock.

You stared and ogled at the sight before you, your hand wrapping itself around it. Alastor tensed, his shoulders raised slightly. He let out a shaky breath, watching his own chest rise and fall to calm him down.

He was already leaking, and you used that to your advantage. You stroked painfully slowly, causing him to shiver. You glanced at Alastor’s expression with a sly smirk. “You’re enjoying this a lot, dear.”

Your tone was mocking; Alastor heard it. He tightly chuckled. “How would you know?”

“Alastor. You’re so hard right now.”

“Oh.” 

You snorted before increasing your pace against his cock. Alastor cleared his throat, feeling his mind fog with desire and lust, the two things he really wished hadn’t plagued his mind too much.

You felt a tentacle wrap around your left thigh, and your breath hitched. “Al?-” It started to massage your pussy, making you gasp and grip Alastor’s cock a bit too tightly.

He grunted in both pain and pleasure, that brief moment of extreme bliss washing away again. “(Name), love, I think you should calm down this time.”

“Well, it’s not my fault your stupid tentacles start to just—” You cut yourself by sighing in relief, the same tentacle you were referring to going in circles against your already sensitive clit. “I swear.” You muttered, quickening your pace against Alastor.

Suddenly, you stopped your hand, cursing when the tentacle wouldn’t do the same. At that lack of motion, Alastor swore under his breath, his grin showing annoyance as he grunted. Yet even with shocks of pleasure spreading across you body, you kept a steady face, the smile on your face absolutely shit-eating. “Is someone annoyed already? Doesn’t feel good when pleasure’s just taken from you, does it?” You swiped you thumb against his tip which made Alastor stir. He let out a low, dragged-out moan at the sensation. you repeated the motion, amused at the way Alastor took a sharp inhale and exhale, as if regulating his senses.

Alastor hated the way you pouted at him as if he were some pitiful creature. “Awh, does someone crave what he wants?” You scoffed, swallowing a gulp of saliva as the tentacle on your pussy quickened its pace. you attempted to think of something, anything, that could postpone your orgasm.

Ah, you knew.

Angeldust said something about Valentino having a waterboarding kink. Honestly, the thought of Valentino was enough.

You grinned, tilting your head as you set your pace to be irregular. When you knew Alastor was at the edge, you stopped, then when you knew that it subsided, you would continue. “You thought I wouldn’t make you beg for it?”

Alastor couldn’t help the lewd noises he was making, letting out strangled moans and whines and huffs. Just who do you think you are, making the radio demon beg for you?

Well, you are his wife.

Alastor tried to fight the urge to give in, but the way you were teasing him and playing with his pleasure made him want to snap. He averted your gaze as he muttered something incoherent, but you knew what it was.

You slowed your pace on his cock again, tilting your head in feigned innocence. “I’m sorry, dear, I didn’t catch that. You better speak up.” Immediately after you spoke, you bit your lip and cursed internally. You were so desperately close because of what Alastor’s tentacles were doing to you. Hell, you weren't even sure if Alastor knew that his tentacles were pleasing you to the brink of insanity.

Alastor’s pride and ego got the better of him, though, as he mumbled it again, just a bit louder.

“Alastor.” You warned. “Speak. Up.” You quickened your strokes before slowing them down again, smiling as you got the reaction you wanted from Alastor.

“Hhngh, please, darling…” He moaned, his eyelids heavy. Alastor’s grin twitched once more in annoyance. “Please, finish what you started…”

You were going to say something before you felt you coming close. you cursed under your breath, something you didn’t know if Alastor heard you or not. And just as you was about to reach the highest peak, 

The tentacle against your pussy stopped its rubbing, and you whined, arching you back. You were grateful for it, though. You could tease Alastor even more.

“Awh, Alastor,” you taunted. “Surely you can do better than that…right?” You placed a kiss beside the tip, and Alastor suppressed (but horribly failed) the need to moan. “Beg like you mean it.” 

Alastor accidentally whined, his eyebrow twitching once he heard himself. “Please, darling… don’t tease me like this…” You gazed into Alastor’s eyes, a look of mischief on your face as you stroked quicker. 

He moaned heavily, his chest rising and falling at an alarming rate. “Fuck, please let me finish already…!”

Your eyebrows shot up at that crisp swear, you grin stretching from ear to ear. “You’re getting there, love.” The speed of your strokes gradually increased. Suddenly, you felt the tentacles again, but this time, it was just one. It was two.

You discreetly attempted to glance back, getting interrupted by the thicker one prodding your entrance. you gasped, trying to regain your composure and control over him. You tried your best to focus on Alastor instead. “You’re so cute when you beg; you know that, right?” You propped yourself on your elbows instead of having your other hand support you to play with Alastor’s cock more.

More quickly than he would have wanted, Alastor felt himself losing control. He let out an animalistic groan, gritting his teeth. His shoulders tensed once more as he felt himself getting close. He bucked his hips into your hands, the friction making him whimper ever so slightly. “Please…please, please, please please…”

You had never heard Alastor so whiny, so helpless. It was unlike him, just allowing you to assert yourself in this kind of situation. But hey, you didn’t mind. In fact, you loved it.

You should visit more often.

The hand closer to his tip massaged it with the thumb, making Alastor cry out in response. His breath was shallow and ragged, and his voice was breaking. His radio filter was long gone, and just the sound of his real voice made you go crazy.

You felt yourself nearing your climax, too. With how quickly the two tentacles were either massaging or pumping into you, you realized it was inevitable.

You decided it would be ideal if you came together.

You immediately quickened your pace against him, the fact his whole intimidating facade was gone with how he was muttering pleas made your heart pump, if undead hearts could do so.

Alastor felt kisses against his inner thigh, and that was what sent him over the edge. With a cry of your name, strings and strings of white translucent fluid released itself from his cock. His hearing was compromised with a ringing sound, but he heard you moan his name out just a couple of seconds after him, your grip against him tightening as you never stopped stroking.

His breath hitched as he realized that you weren't going to stop. “Wait, (Name)—” He whined, his head hitting the pillow behind him. It was too much; the feeling, the pleasure, just everything. He hadn’t even touched himself in decades, so to just have someone stroking him even after he came felt painfully pleasurable.

Thankfully, you stopped after some time, your grip loosening as you caught your breath. Somewhere during that time frame, your right hand made its way to his thigh, acting as a pillow for your cheek. your eyes trailed down Alastor’s twitching cock, and you grinned, liking a stripe from base to tip.

He shivered, his eyes closed as he held his forehead. He placed his hand down onto the mattress and… Why were there punctures in it?

Just as Alastor was about to ask, he noticed movement behind you, his brows furrowed. Then, he saw it. He saw the shadowy tentacles he knew were his.

His eyes widened slightly as he looked at the now flushed out you who was half-lidded with your ass in the air. “My dear?”

“Hmmmm?”

“Why are my tentacles…out?”

“Huh?” You glanced back and sweatdropped as you finally realized just how thick they were. No wonder You felt full. “Oh, they–” You cleared your throat. “They were…fucking me. I thought you knew that.”

Alastor’s eye twitched before he let out a chuckle. “Well, I apologize for that, dear. Though, I hope you can still take more, since,” he sat up straight, helping you fix your posture before picking you up by your hips and straddling you against him, your pussy just mere centimeters on top of his cock. “I’ll be handling you now.” Alastor glanced up to look you in the eyes. “Do you consent?”

“You know I always do.”

Alastor huffed out a laugh. “Whatever you say, darling.” He strained himself as he held every ounce of the animalistic urge that he had kept constrained as he made you sink down onto him. A guttural moan forced itself out and he started to grip your hips tighter, using that as a way to bounce you on his cock.

You always knew and understood how mating seasons work, from their cycles to the subject’s attitude during. Well, you needed to read about it; one can never have too much knowledge, right?

You weren't sure about one thing, though: if demons experienced the same kind of cycle that their animal counterpart did. Well, this explains it.

It was obvious that Alastor was attempting to help you adjust to his throbbing dick but just the idea of being inside you drove him towards the edge. He bucked his hips at the same rhythm you bounced on him.

Your mind was clouded with lust and pure bliss. Alastor’s cock was kissing your cervix one too many times, and it sent you to absolute ecstasy. your lips formed a lazy grin as you kissed him hungrily, causing his hips to stutter.

With no ounce of shame left in his body, he allowed himself to groan and whine at every thrust he did in you, savoring how warm everything felt. How ironically heavenly you made him feel. 

The only unfortunate thing in Alastor’s mind was the desire to breed. To fill you up until his cum splattered onto his mattress. He wanted to make a mess of you, and possibly himself in the process. Alastor needed to make sure you knew that you were his, and his alone.

Somehow his lips made their way to your neck, savagely nipping and sinking his teeth into your flesh until he tasted metal. That sweet intoxicating flavor that always drove him wild.

you dug your nails into Alastor’s back, feeling your climax rising up again. It wasn’t long until you were spewing curse words that would make a normal man break down and cry as you felt the cord in your stomach violently snap again. 

But Alastor wasn’t stopping. He started to prioritize his release the moment he slipped inside of you. His pace never faltered; in fact, it quickened at an inhuman speed, causing your gasps of air to be just hiccups.

“You’re making me see stars.” He whispered into your ear, desperate and whiny. He could feel that build up happening again, and this time, he was going to get what he wanted as quickly as possible.

Fuck, just the idea of him cumming inside of you almost broke him. He knew that since you were both sinners, you could no longer have children, but it would never hurt to try, right?

His grip against your hips tightened to ground you in place as moaned as loudly as you had ever heard him. He pumped inside of you, thrusting harshly yet slowly until he felt himself fully inside you. you gasped, feeling your pussy stretch until something absolutely huge squeezed itself inside you.

Wait, did Alastor just–

Loads and loads of cum painted your walls, filling you up to the brim. Alastor’s teeth bit your shoulder as he released inside of you. you felt your mouth dry as you finally gasped for air, involuntary moans coming out for you.

You stayed like that for a minute or two, chests heaving as you caught their breath. Alastor’s knot finally deflated, yet it felt like he didn’t want to leave the position. However, you were still at the hotel, and the others might probably be looking for them.

Even worse, they might think they did something steamy.

Well, you did, but Alastor didn’t want that thought in their heads.

He planted a kiss on your forehead, his lips slightly burning from your skin. “We should get going, my dear.” He whispered, his radio filter back on.

“Did you know you could do that?”

“Do what, love?”

you looked at him through lazy eyes. But even if you did, he could practically feel the mischief beaming through them. “Knot.”

Alastor stitched his eyebrows together, confused. “What’s…knotting?”

you tilted your head. “You don’t know how your cycles work?” He averted your gaze, his ears flopping down in embarrassment. “I’ve never really done this before, dear.”

Your grin turned devilish. “Well…”

Oh, deer (hah). It’s going to be a long night for them.

“Where is Alastor?” Charlie asked, looking around. “I’ve been trying to call him for an hour or so but I haven’t seen him.”

Angeldust snorted before it turned into a cackle. “Like I said, toots! He’s probably in his room, fuckin’ the shit outta (Name).”

“I really doubt tha–” “Good evening, everyone!” Alastor exclaimed, his usual outfit now on. His grin remained constant as he wrapped an arm around your waist. “I do apologize for not being present for the past couple of hours. I had some business to do.”

“Yeah, her.” Angeldust mumbled, a smirk on his face. He lifted his face to look at you. “How was it?”

You just smiled, tilting your head. At that, the whole crew saw what you were trying to show.

Marks and marks of bites all over your neck, bruising it a little. They were surprised that it wasn’t bleeding with how wounded it was. 

Angeldust’s mouth went agape with a smile. He wasn’t entirely serious about that statement, but for it to actually be true? This was a day he never saw coming. “Ho-holy shit!” He exclaimed with a laugh. “I didn’t realize it was actually true!” 

[kissoulie]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒

𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ 🫧

— NSFW. tags under the cut!

a/n: kissoulie debut day!! (⁠๑⁠•⁠﹏⁠•⁠) i wrote all of these for myself mainly but finally decided to post themmmm i wanted to post a full fic for my debut but work is busy :( i don't have enough free time </3 please do read the cws!!! they are very relevant haha my brain went a little wild with jiung so soulseob's are short ☹️ i will feed u soon sho stans u have my word 🙏 i normally don't write for jiung or keeho but the ideas were too inticing 😭

cws: fem reader, petnames (baby, princess, pretty girl), degrading (just once, "whore"), overstim, edging, breeding, daddy kink (kyo), brat taming (kyo), choking (kyo), exaggerated size kink (intak), pregnancy mention lol meandom!theo, dub-con (jiung), slight somno (jiung), squirting (soul), slight degrading, voice kink (seob), please lmk if i missed anything!!!

brat tamer!keeho who loves your cries of “daddy daddy daddy- slow down, daddy-!” followed by broken moans and whimpers from your swollen lips. he loves how you claw at him, eyes faded from how hard he's choking you, but still sobbing and slicking up more for him to fuck you stupid. he loves how you beg him to let you cum, “please please please daddy, please- can't hold it, please just let me ‘m so close daddy please just let me-” he knows you can't hold it. that's why he smacks your clit to send you over the edge. he loves how your hands try to pull his hips back, but he's determined to ruin the orgasm you don't deserve. it just makes you that much sweeter when he finally lets you cum on his cock.

meandom!theo who won't stick his dick in you until you're a crying overstimulated mess. he’ll use toys on you, stuff his pretty fingers inside you, eat you out until you're pulling on his hair so hard it hurts, but he won't fuck you until you're crying. he loves how your tears soak the pillowcase, how you cling to him like he's the only person left in the entire world. he loves feeling so special to you, to the point where he loses himself in your body when he finally does fuck you. his hips stutter, and he's cumming with a soft “fuck..” before he can stop himself.

best friend!jiung who humps you in your sleep. it’s not his fault you sleep on your stomach, your ass so.. soft and enticing. at first he did it with both your clothes on, but he realized that regardless, if he woke you up you would know what he’s doing to you. so he slowly pulls down your sleep shorts, pushing his dick between your panties and your skin. he snakes a hand under your lower stomach, pressing you to him. at first he doesn’t notice how you slick up for him, but then your hips jolt back to press against him and he’s almost clamoring off of you when he hears your whiny voice, “ji, don’t stop” who is he to deny such a needy, pretty girl? he practically rips your panties off, rubbing himself between your folds, pressing just the tip in as you moan, “‘s so big, ji, ‘s big..” “fuck, princess, that was just the tip,” you’re squeezing around him, pulling him deeper into your tight cunt. he groans, bottoming out in one sharp thrust as he loses control. you yelp, but your eyes roll back and he can feel you squirting around him, “cumming, ji, fuck” he knows you are. his eyes are shut tight as he struggles to hold back, fucking into you deeply and then speeding up. you push back against him, helping him along as he presses his hand against your stomach, feeling how his dick knocks up against it. you keep moaning and creaming all over him, and he loses control, pressed against your cervix as he paints your insides white.

size kink!intak who's so desperate for you. he wants to make love to you so bad, but you're just too small to take him properly. there's always that last couple of inches where he hits a wall, and you're sniffling out his name and holding his hands so sweetly. he can't bear to see you cry. the more he makes love to you the more he wants to breed you. and before he knows it, those last two inches are slipping past your sensitive walls while you cum all over him. you yelp in surprise but he's too far gone, fucking into you while pressing against your tummy, “gonna let me get you pregnant, baby? please- oh fuck, please”

munch!soul who’s obsessed with making you squirt. he spends precious hours between your thighs, flicking his tongue over your sensitive little clit, fingers buried inside your sopping wet cunt. he praises you, too. telling you how pretty you are for him, how good you taste, how much he needs to get his dick inside you when he's done using his mouth. he loves it when you squirt all over his cock, it makes his head empty.

voice kink!jongseob who whispers in your ear to get you off. he won't touch you until he knows you're close from just his voice, whispering filth into your ear. he wants to breed you. he wants to fuck you until you cry for him, until you squirt all over him, until you tell him you love him. that's what he's working you up for. he kisses your sensitive clit, eyes peering up at you innocently while your hiccuped cries turn to sobs. “all this from just my voice, baby? cmon, you know what you have to say so i’ll let you cum.”

[poppy-metal]

just thought of being scumbag patricks pretty little girlfriend and saying you love him mid-stroke and he groans, puts a hand over your mouth because you dont mean that shit - he's gonna pretend he didn't hear it, cause hes bad for you and you falling in love with him would be fucking awful for you both - doesn't stop him from fucking you deeper though, immediately after you say it. like the words have a lasso affect and his hips crash into yours, not parting this time, just grinding his cock inside - way more intimate than he usually allows. biting his palm, wrestling your mouth from under his palm in defiance like the brat you are so you can pant and whine another breathless "i love you - i love -" he fucks you harder until the words fade out into moans. acting like his balls aren't twitching to unload inside you the moment you said those words, like its just to shut you up, the desperate slam of his hips, and not like the confession means anything.

[jesuistrestriste]

here to say ily your brain is beautiful and i’ve been thinking about art donaldson’s mile wide mommy kink literally all day…….. half the time he’s so fucked out he doesn’t even realize he’s saying it, he just needs his mommy so bad <33

fawn UR brain is beautiful oh em gee im giggling

art is legitimately thee most depraved boy ever when he’s got your fingers inside him (curling and playing with all his special spots), or your perfect hole wrapped around his useless cock, or your strap fucking into him with each harsh roll of your hips <3 his blonde curls bouncing and sticking to his forehead + his temples while he drools and lets his eyes roll back into his head ..

and when the word “mommy” slips off his tongue like honeyed silk, but with the slight tang and bitterness of his embarrassment, it makes it all the more satisfying when you realize how much of a mess he really is for you.

all for you. only for you.

and art’s moaning it like a whore, too. his cheeks burning bright pink with shame that only fuels his arousal, pearly beads of precome dripping from his parts. it’s truly a sight to behold.

you reach down and pull back on a handful of his hair, forcing his head back. his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and whines, and he just looks up at you with the most desperate expression ever.

please love me.

please touch me.

please kiss me.

please fuck me.

please don’t leave me.

but all he can muster out through the orgasmic haze fogging up his brain is—

“oh, mommy… mommy.. m-mommy… gonna come..”

at least you don’t expect him to be smart when you’re mercilessly pulling climax after climax from his convulsing cock.

he’s grateful for that.

he’s grateful for you.

“mommy… love you.. please..”

[lilaccatholic]

Probably SUCH an unpopular opinion except in my little corner of the world, but BOY would Bridgerton so be my thing if it weren't for all the sex scenes

[catcorsair]

How is a man to foresee what the Fates have in store for him? How can he predict when his world is to change? Of ever abandoning that lonely bachelor's existence to which I had long-ago grown accustomed, I harbored not a single hope—and then, as if by one thoughtless snip of a shear, I discovered myself no longer a bachelor. Sixty years I had spent in lack of the honest company of a woman and suddenly she was everywhere, in every thought, every action, every desire: I could see nothing past Sophia. Thus the warnings went unheeded, only spiders in dark corners, darting out where they cannot be seen, secrets concealing themselves in the shapes of other things; rarely do those Sisters cut their lines in absolutes. It is the slow unraveling of a thread by which the red strings shorten. But heat makes men mad, and summer is a mad season; despite my attempts to ignore them, the ghosts of Erik’s unsavory history crept up with the rising temperatures. Such specters, I have found, are not so easy to put to rest. The attempt to do so comes too late.

Like Pulling Teeth: Part Six

Read on AO3 HERE

18+ / Very Explicit / EC, EOC, E++ / 50K

Pre to post-Leroux canon. General tags: Gothic, Horror, Drama, Romance, Historical Fiction.

*(edited) cover art by Zhao Dalu

Enjoy!

Please Comment / Review :)

[the-witch-of-one-piece]

If there was a hospital and all these fine ass mofos worked there I ain't being discharged ever. I will be sick all the time. *cough cough*

[nickybloodhead]

Kinktober day 10: Praise Kink

Your legs were shaking and your knees ached a little from your position, your cheek was resting against the thick thigh of James who was smoking his cigar leisurely, barely looking down at you, chuckling through his teeth and throwing his head back.

When he finally deigns to look at you, he can't help but hold your chin and stroke your cheek with his thumb appreciatively.

"You have no idea how pretty you look kneeling at my feet" You whimper at his words and nuzzle your face against his leg, licks his lips and runs his hands through your hair, caressing it with gentleness and adoration.

"So beautiful and obedient, my sweet girl."

You give him your best puppy look which makes him smile, he leaves his cigar in the ashtray on the table and unbuttons his pants just enough to pull his hard cock out giving it a few strokes in front of your face.

"Okay baby, now I need you to get my cock all wet and bright with your drool, then, I'll let you ride me..... Can you do that for me pretty girl?"

You nod eagerly and settle in between his legs. You look at him a little shyly, take his huge cock in your hand and give it a lick from base to tip, James gasps and drops his head against the back of the couch, his hand settling on your head but not forcing you onto him. You suck the head and move down his length as far as you can, massaging his balls while maintaining eye contact with him, you are rewarded with a hum of pure ecstasy from him.

"Oh, just like that...you're so good at taking my cock, yeah, that little mouth is perfect for me...what a good girl" You moan at his sweet words, creating a vibration that makes him lift his hips and fuck your mouth, using you as his own fleshlight.

Your eyes tear up a little at the intrusion but you let him use you as he pleases, you swirl your tongue around the tip which makes him gasp and stop you, he cradles your face and gives you a soft kiss.

He takes your hand and helps you up, your legs are wobbly from the amount of time you were on your knees but he steadies you by putting his hand on your waist and guiding you to sit on his lap, he caresses your knees and legs trying to give you some relief, he kisses gently from your jaw to your collarbone.

"You did perfect princess, let me take care of you, ok?" You rest your cheek on his hand and nod, he kisses you gently as he slides your panties to the side and buries himself in your tight wet pussy. You moan loudly as you finally feel him in you, his hands take your ass and he uses it as leverage to slowly bounce you on top of him, you move your hips in circles to create more friction, your arms around his neck to stay as close as possible.

The gasps and moans are all you hear, you're thankful James is handling you to fuck you slowly as you don't think you could stand to ride him properly, not with your legs so worn out. James feels how close you are as your walls contract around him, he hisses at how tight you become, his hands holding you firmly around the waist as he begins to ram you harder, your clit grinding against his pubic bone. You hide your face in his neck and squeal a little until you finally leak your release onto his lap, your chest rising and falling frantically as James continues to fuck you until he cums with a final grunt.

You stay in that position for a while, his big hand caressing your back and waist gently.

"You're all I could ask for, my beautiful girl, so good for me...you're all I need, love."

I need James to call me all those affectionate names, please and thank you.

[comet-forgot-you]

heyy idk if you're taking requests, but could you write River x reader where she's more dominant?? and maybe reader is more feminine?? I'm obsessed with River...

ofc bae, kinda hard to write for fem reader bc im more masc, so if this is bad im so sorry :[

remember

dealer!river x fem!reader

summary: river loves leaving you hanging, but she just thinks you’re so hot :(

warnings: 18+ pls, smut, strap use, top!river, orgasm denial, marijuana use, fingering, oral, teasing, river takes a picture, rivers a lil mean. like a lot a little. lots of cursing idk, lmk if theres more! do not repost this work as your own.

a/n: this took me so long to write lol, im sorry anon 😭. i kinda dont like this, i tried im sorry. anyway i kept accidentally writing amber instead of river and i literally don’t know why. enjoy :D

the air of river’s room was humid, the sounds of you panting being the only thing heard over the blaring music of the ongoing party outside of the room was the sounds of your pants and river’s endless remarks.

“gonna cum? already? we haven’t even been here that long,” her strap is bottomed out in you as she whispers the words mockingly in your ear. you whine against her jaw, hips struggling to keep up with the quick pace river had set.

"m' sorry," your words are slurred, thoughts jumbled together, the only thing the actually makes sense in the moment is river.

river chuckles, pulling back to get a better look at you. "what? my cock making you feels so good you can't even speak properly?" she asks mockingly, rolling your nipples between her fingers.

“riv.. please lemme,” your sentence is cut off by a shaky exhale. “lemme cum. please, riv.” a knock comes from the door and you hold back the cry that threatens to escape as river halts her movements and pushes herself off of you.

“what?” she yells, head snapping to the door. she glances down at you, your eyes brimming with tears, hips trying to grind down on the strap still nestled inside of you.

“you have a client,” a voice yells from the other side. river holds your hips down, your head shaking “no”

you knew how this would play out. river would be a huge fucking tease all night, hands crawling up the skirt she picked out, whispering dirty words in your ears, kisses on all the spots she knew drove you insane. you knew that if you didnt cum now, you wouldn’t until everyone left.

“please, river, don’t- fuck,” river’s thrust into you, your own moan cuts your words off.

“i’ll be right there,” she yells back. your eyes widen and river’s lips curl up into a mocking smile. “be a good girl, yeah? get dressed and join the party,” she mumbles. she pulls out of you and you whimper out at the emptiness.

“riv,” you whine her name, hoping to draw her back in. her eyes never leave yours, that stupid smile doesnt leave as she tucks the strap back into her pants.

she leans down, pressing kisses from your thighs to your jaw. “cmon, baby, dont wanna make the customer wait forever now, do we?” she pulls back slightly, her face so close to yours, you want nothing more than to kiss her. she grabs something off of her bed, and once she starts strapping it to your thigh, you know what shes about to ask you. “hold this for me, hmm?” its not really a question, though. you know she’ll tuck the lighter into the thigh garter whether or not you say yes or no.

shes off of you in seconds, heading to the door and looking back at you with that stupid smile. you groan. god was it going to be a long night.

—

river’s endless teasing and “innocent” words had you dripping. the cotton covering your cunt was stuck to your folds. you hated how much of a tease she was. every single movement she made had your head spinning with want.

even now as you sat on the couch, room filled with guards that were there solely to make sure things didnt go south, your legs draped across river’s thighs, she was still teasing you. hands trailing against the soft fat of your thighs, that pit in your stomach had yet to cool down, there was no way you could wait until the end of the night for her to fuck you.

river reaches into her pocket, taking out a small cigarette case she put joints in instead. she looks at you for what feels like the first time since you left her room. “you got a light, baby?” its a dumb question, really. she knew you had one, after all, she was the one who had tucked it into the thigh garter. you nod and river wastes no time sneaking her hand under your skirt to fish the lighter out.

she acts as if there werent eyes on her at all times. she brushes against your clothed cunt and it takes everything in you not to whimper at the feeling. she quickly grabs the lighter before removing her hand and lighting the joint hanging loosely from her lips.

you cant focus on the words she says to the client, only on the movements she makes. the way her jaw flexes as she clenches when the man makes a stupid remark, the way she stares him down like hes nothing, like he cant do anything. everything about her radiates so much power and confidence.

as soon as the guy leaves, you press yourself up against river, hand on her thigh as you lean in to whisper in her ear. “need you s’ bad, mamas. need you t’ fill me up again. please? i’ll be so good i promise.” your words are filthy, but every word was the truth. you knew exactly what buttons to push to make river fold. you knew that if you kissed her jaw, or left marks across her neck, she’d do anything you asked of her. so you did exactly that. holding her jaw with your free hand, you leave a cluster of red marks that would soon bloom to a shade of purple. river grips your thigh, a rush of hear spreading throughout both of your bodies.

“god, y��know just how to rile me up, dont you. so fuckin’ needy.” you smile against her neck.

“cant help it, mamas,” you mumble. the name makes her close her mouth to prevent the groan that threatens to escape. but you feel the vibrations against your lips. she stands, guiding you out of the room, leading you through the crowded hallways to her room.

your back is against the door in an instant, her lips against yours as she tries to undo the belt around her waist with one hand, her other eagerly groping at your tit. you whine at her neediness, it matches your own and your hands fly to the belt to try and help her. your kisses are so messy and hungry, its hard to think about much of anything else. you manage to unbuckle the belt and slide her pants off. she makes quick work of undressing you, guiding the two of you to her bed. her strap pressed against your clothed cunt and your moaning against her lips.

“fuck, river please just,” you groan, arching up into her as her lips attach to your nipple, “jus’ fuck me, mamas please. need you t’ fill me up,” you a whining mess. amber pulls your soaked panties down your legs before parting your legs to look at the mess between your thighs.

“fuck, you’re so fucking wet, y/n. were you that fucking needy for me?” you whine, trying to close your legs, but her hands keep them spread. “nuh-uh, you don’t get to hide it now. not when you begged me to fuck you in front of my guys,” she sounds so mean, you swallow thickly, worried you had genuinely upset her. but the way she wraps her lips around your throbbing clit, you know its not genuine. your moans echo off of the walls, you slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your sounds, hyperaware of the crowd of people just outside of the doors.

two of her fingers sink into your cunt, her other hand pulling your hand away from your mouth. “don’t do that, let them all hear how good im fucking you. let em know you’re mine.” she laces her fingers with yours, her lips returning to wrap around your clit. her fingers curl up into your cunt and your fingers lace into her hair.

“fuck, river!” your hips are bucking up into her her warm mouth. “gon’ cum, you feel so good.” she squeezes your hand, and your gushing around her fingers. she’s quick to lap up your juices before standing to tower over you. she presses her fingers against your lips and you take them in your mouth to suck your juices off of them. shes rolling your nipples between her fingers, her strap prodding at your entrance. you buck against it, your cunt sensitive after the orgasm river had just given you.

“need you to fill me up river,” her voice is mocking your previous words. “need you so bad, god im just such a fucking slut i just cant wait for you to fill me up,” her words cause tears to prickle in your eyes. did you really sound like that? were you really that needy? her strap pushes into you, her lips wrapping around the plush of your tits to leave marks that she’d be taking so many pictures of later. the familiar stretch of your cunt has any thoughts of insecurity rushing out of your mind in an instant.

“riv,” you whine out at her slow pace.

“riv,” she mocks in a high pitched voice. “what is it baby? not enough for your needy cunt? need me to be pounding into just to be satisfied?” your eyes roll back as she bottoms out. a tear slides down your face. you cant tell if its from the pleasure or from her words. river had never been this.. mean before. you didnt mind, the pit in your stomach growing with every word.

river’s movements speed up. her strap fills you up so good, hitting spots inside of you that have you seeing stars. her mouth feels so good against your body, her hands keeping your thighs parted. “so fucking pretty,” she groans against your jaw, her breathing heavy against your skin.

“feels s’ good mamas, fuck,” your thighs shake against her hands, the coil in your stomach getting tighter and tighter with every single move river makes.

“yeah? gonna cum again? so fuckin,” she shudders when your fingers brush against her nipples, “fuck, so fucking needy. this cunt is practically sucking me in, shit,” she exhales sharply against your skin. you can tell she’s close to hitting her own high with the way her thrusts get sloppier and her breathing gets shakier

“fuck, river,” your moans are loud.

“c’mon, cum for me, go on,” your high hits just as river’s does. her strap stuffed so deep inside of you, “did s’ good,” she mumbles against your ear. “so fuckin good, shit,” shes rolling her hips against yours, trying to make both of your highs last a little longer. she lifts herself off of you, admiring the sight beneath her. “fuck,” she groans lowly.

she reaches for her phone off of the night stand, snapping a picture of you in your fucked out state. “so fuckin’ hot, baby.”

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

Random NSFW Lucifer headcanon (might be a hot take):

Lucifer doesn't like doggystyle. He'll do it, but only if you ask him to. No matter if he's topping or bottoming, he'd much rather prefer to look at you while you're being intimate, being able to kiss you at any moment and watching your ever changing facial expressions as he takes you or you take him because he thinks you are the most beautiful thing in the world. He's going to admire you any chance he gets. <3

[kookiesdayum]

When I say I want angst, I mean real angst—the kind that tears you open, that leaves you raw. I want every painful, gut-wrenching detail. I want to feel her heartbreak as she gives everything she has, only for him to ruin it all. I want to feel his regret when he realizes he’s lost her, to see her strength as she moves on, leaving him in the wreckage of his own mistakes. No fluff, no distractions—just pure, unfiltered heartbreak. I want to ache with every page.

[lottiecrabie]

pray for my soul. part two – matty healy

after a peculiar dream, you pay a necessary visit to the confessional. too bad your sins follow you even in the holiest places.

warnings: 18+, masturbation, roleplay, hint of choking, religious imagery, blasphemy, desecration of a confessional lmao

part two of five

4351 words

Mess of black hair, sweating and sticking to skin. A jaw that cuts. You bleed down your chin. You lick; it’s metallic; it’s ashy; it’s sweet. The taste coats your tongue, but still you dive for more. Your lips graze a throat, barely there, as if you were afraid of what it would mean to touch. Adam’s apple bobs. You bite. You consume. 

A groan, slightly discordant. Roll of head, neck barred. You could destroy. You could swallow whole, let it bloom in your stomach. Your fingers grip two shoulders—suddenly, shoulders exist. 

The world is slow, hazy. You move against something and pleasure drips down your veins. You moan, but the sound never leaves your lips. 

You find familiar scars. You draw them, again and again, like your morning prayers. They’re rugged and real. Something of a thought sprouts behind your brain, but it’s pushed away by the resonating shudder from two rough hands finding your hips — and, God, how good it feels to have hips. 

To have hips, and thighs, and skin. To have a belly, flexed and tensed, coiling with flaming pleasure. To have ribs, reverberating the sound of your beating heart — thump thump thump, a melody he pianoes on the bones. To have a neck, kissed and licked, hair pushed carelessly. To have a chest, bared and free, ready for the taking. 

To have a pussy, begging, crying; throwing your head back when two known fingers fill it. You scream to the heavens, grinding your newborn hips, chasing some high you’ve never met but know exists. It’s in your very DNA, the possibility of it, the taste of what it could be. 

Holiness is a fire. It is not to be smothered, stifled, hidden under a smile. You embrace it, letting it lick your limbs and coil around your brain, melting it down. It drips down your spine; you drip on his wrist. 

More, you think, or perhaps cry. More more more more. Your hips rock, meeting him. Bliss threatens the edges of you. You’re boiling under your skin.

“Sorry,” he says, licking your bloody chin. “I’m sorry. I’ll get on my knees.” 

Your eyes split open. 

Gasping, your chest rises and falls frantically. You take hasty breaths, trying to catch it before it runs from you. Your room blurs around you. It’s dark, the moon filtering through the blinds. You barely make sense of your bed, of the fluffy carpet under it, of the cross watching over you. Dreamlike surreality still coats your brain.

Your thighs are uncomfortably sticky. You moan, frustrated and unpleased, just on the edge of a cliff. Huffing, you sneak a hand under your pink pajama pants. You scrunch your face close, as if you could blind yourself to reason when a tentative finger nears your sensitive bud. 

You bite your lip as you draw a circle around it, hips jumping in surprise. There’s a long lick of pleasure up your thighs. You press firmer, rubbing a hazardous pattern, thoughtless except for the rolling waves of euphoria. You muffle your small cries, legs kicking as you pant. 

You pass through your dreams in minute details. 

The mane of hair, falling around him like some dark halo. Red, vicious lips, panting. You swipe a thumb on them, sucking it inside your mouth like you could macrodose on the taste of him. Shoulders and hips and skin. Fingers dipping inside, curling.

Smaller, sloppier hands work furiously at your clit, drawing turmoils of hot ecstasy out of you. Your skin feels feverish, but still it is not enough. 

Not a smile: a smirk. Matty Healy looks up at you, arm flexing as he thrusts his fingers inside of you. They’re bigger than yours, longer with wide knuckles, and they’d fill you up so perfectly, crafting a place for himself in the deepest parts of your cunt. You’d throb around him; you’d fall apart. 

You grab your breast, clutching it, pinching a nipple in mimicry memory. It doesn’t have the same mind-blowing effect, but it does make you moan nonetheless. Desperate, you chew on your swollen lips. 

Matty has rougher hands, too. Calluses from playing guitar, all those songs about sex and drugs he vaguely mumbles during music class. They left an imprint on your silky skin, scrubbed and soaped clean, in the dark of a hallway. The feel of the tough pad on your bundle of nerves, rubbing and circling and—

Your thighs close, trapping your hand in. It’s harder to touch in the enclosed space, but you still you furiously swipe. Your toes curl, neck falling back. You slap a hand over your mouth, hiding a near scream. 

Two fingers in, one thumbing your clit. Some brash smile, cooing and pouting as he gets you closer and closer to the edge, like it was all so silly of you to even resist. Scattered moans; he breathes with you, hard on your thigh. A hand travels to your tits — you twist harder, meaner, arching your back to beg for a missing hand — he strokes, that callus unmistakable on your virgin skin. He must leave a trace behind. Must leave you scarred, weathered. 

Matty doesn’t stop, of course. He’s a force in motion, unstoppable, gone before you ever pin him down. He’s on your neck again, a ghost of a hand. Your cross rests between your collarbones, but he goes straight for the throat. Thoughts float in your brain, untethered. Your brain rushes. You’re drunk, on the air and on him and on the heady feeling of near inexistence. You are not a girl; you are a body. He presses harder. 

Circles and eights and hard swipes, and yet you’re not there yet. Your cunt clenches around nothing, pitifully empty, practically pleading for some kind of release. You frown, trying to fall from somewhere — somewhere far, somewhere high. Hope it destroys you as you land. Hope it ruins you. 

Matty would ruin you. He already does. Brick by brick, he undoes you, unravels the carefully spool of a girl. You want him. He’s there. He’s— He’s just— 

Your index finger trails to your entrance. Sheepishly, you linger over it, playing with the sea spreading down your legs. 

Just— Just a little. Something to shatter you so you can stop thinking. So you can exist as shards, as reflections of light, as infinites. 

A knuckle inside of you. But he’d— he’d make himself home. You want him to be home. 

God can wait for a minute. God can close his eyes. God can— 

You’re electroshocked into reality. God can see you. 

Staring in front of you is your golden cross, nailed to the wall. Your eyes lock with your savior, crying and bleeding while you— 

Blushing, still panting, insides clenching and pulsing in incomprehension, trying to come back from near insanity, you take your fingers out of your thighs. A wet sound rings through the quiet room. You grimace. 

Not knowing what to do with your sticky hands, you wipe the juices on your white sheets. The sight is offensive. You put a pillow over it just to hide it, like the feathered cotton could make it suddenly unreal. 

You can’t believe what almost happened. You’ve never done anything like it. 

It’s that damn boy. Dark and tempting, drawing you into sin with a serpent smile. 

Solemnly, you draw the sweaty sheets off your flushed skin. You kneel at the end of the bed — ignoring the get on your knees resonating inside your skull — clutching your hands together, you rest your elbows on the mattress. 

Lord, I plead for the blood of Christ to cover my sins. Purge me with hyssop so that I will smell sweet in Your presence. I am condemned in light of Your holy law. Lord, forgive me. Forgive me. 

—

At breakfast, your mother hands you a banana. You stare at it, almost blushing, like God was making it so very clear he had seen you through the ceiling. You cough, peeling it, taking a demure bite out of it. 

“Sweet dreams?” Your father asks, hidden behind his newspaper. 

You flush harder, shifting in your seat. “I guess.” 

—

The Church is empty. It feels quieter than usual, grander when it’s devoid of the light of life. Solemn. The sacredness sticks against your skin. You feel the sins in the pit of your stomach rioting in the holy. 

Your Mary Janes tap against the wood. With shaky steps, you walk to the confessional. 

Opening the door of the confessional booth, you sit on its stool, staring at the grain of the wood. You pick at your cuticles, ripping the skin off until it’s red and raw. At least it stops you from trembling. 

The priest isn’t there. He might never come; you were too scared to make an appointment. It would make it too real, make your sin too vivid. I’ll just take a peek, you told yourself. If it happens, it was meant to be. The will of God is good. The confessional is silent. 

You rack your throat, shaking your shoulders. Maybe this is better. Maybe— You can be truthful when there’s no one but the Lord to hear you. You close your eyes. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” 

You hear a door opening and closing. You scrunch your face, refusing to take a look through the latticed partition and lose your will. You hear quiet steps on the other side. Someone settles down. You exhale slowly.  

“It’s been two weeks since my last confession. I have—” You shake your head. You don’t know the right words; you’ve never done this before, never had to sit in a dark box and confess some unspeakable lust. “I have been impure with myself.” The words choke out of you. You must push them out. Spiking pain from your thumb. You tear and tear; it makes the inside bloodless. “Once,” you add finally, though it’s strangled. 

A voice, low and husky, entirely known, “Do you know why there’s a partition between us?” You open your eyes, staring straight ahead. 

You would recognize that gravelly tone anywhere. Matty Healy, sin dripping down his mouth, wetting his chin. You can imagine him, some dirty shirt from an unlistenable band, ripped jeans, ringed fingers — your thighs clench — a dark halo sprouting from his scalp. Still, you refuse to look. 

You bite your lip, breathing out, considering him. You twist the ring around your thumb. Scratch and scratch at the skin until it bleeds, some muted pain spreading. You place it between your lips, sucking it clean. Metallic on your tongue. The gesture is familiar; you start blushing before you can brush it away. You take the finger out, wiping at the red. There’s no harm in knowing. 

Softly, you whisper, “Why?”

One indulgent moment. The only noises are your breaths falling in the wooden box. “Priests would take advantage of the confessionals before. Penitents kneeling in front of them, confessing their uncontrollable lust, that guilty hand between their thighs.” You shiver, some shameful pool of need gathering in your belly just from the simple words. Lust, hand, thighs spin around your head in that same tantalizing cadence of his. “By 1576, the sexual solicitations were so great, they had to create the confessional booth.” 

Sexual, you grip the muscle of your thighs, biting your lip. “What does this mean?” 

“It means, love, that there’s nothing to confess. This entire box was created solely because priests couldn’t control themselves when penitents confessed your very sin. Masturbate all you want.” You blush, pinching your thumb in punishment. “Because that is the word you were looking for, wasn’t it?” The smirk is undeniable in his voice. He’s far too pleased. 

“Yes,” you say petulantly, just to rock him a little. You know you’ve succeeded when his breath hitches. You smile, victorious, pride climbing up your spine. 

He exhales heavily. Slowly, almost tentatively, Matty says, “How did you do it?” 

You need to leave this room. This— This has been enough. You’ve humored him. You’ve abated your curiosity. 

But— But isn’t this part of God’s will? He brought you here in the deadest time, brought him to church through some nearly magical feat. A small miracle, just for you. He put him in the priest seat. Shouldn’t that mean something? You can—

You can pretend. You can see, just a little. Take a peek. “Must I say, Father?” 

Rougher out of his throat, “I need to know how much you need to be forgiven.” 

“I—“ You bite your lip raw. Halos and blood and hips, fingers knuckles deep into you, sore hand between your thighs, come back to you in filthy blur. You avert your eyes down. “I had a dream.”

“Oh?” It’s more a breath than a sound. A ghost of a word. 

You nod, though you do not know if he looks at you through the partition, if he sees you. What must you look like, bloody and flushed and tense? Depraved just from the thoughts. “It was dirty. And it left me—”

“How dirty?” He cuts you quickly. “Describe it to me.” 

“I don’t remember much of it.” The dream is more a feeling than a truth. Still, you want to please him. You continue, frowning as you recall, “It was sort of blurring all together. Shoulders and hips and lips. He was— fingering me.” The words are dirty out of your mouth. You wish you could swallow them back. 

“Did you like it?”

You must tend an ear, but you hear him panting quietly on the other side. A smirk can’t hide itself from your lips. You should feel terribly ashamed, but you’ve got him. See how he likes being tempted. 

“Oh yes. It made me feel alive, electric. I kept sensing this scorching heat under my skin. He’d— He’d do this trick, with his fingers, where he’d curl them, and hit something just so. Long fingers. Rough fingers, and I was so soft inside.”

He groans. You feel euphoric, some grander power rushing through your veins. Your heart beats faster. Unnamed thrill plays on your ribs. 

“Did you finish?” 

This time, you do not wait, eager as you answer, “No. No, see, I woke up before I got to.” 

“Hence the masturbation.” 

You smirk. “Yes, Father.” The resounding grunt pleases you. You scratch it in a corner of your skull to replay for eternity. 

“What did you do?” 

“I— I touched my clit.” 

Suddenly, your button of nerves feels tight, ignored. You remember the spike of pleasure when you first touched it. Thoughtlessly, you grind your lips slowly, faintly, against nothing. Just something to relieve. Just to think a little clearer. 

“How did that feel?” 

“Just— these spouts of pleasures, so intense and vivid. My legs kept shaking and I was throbbing, so empty.” 

“Did you finger yourself?” 

How deeply you wanted to. How much you remembered the feeling of the dream, to be so thoroughly filled. How the cross watched you, solemn and disapproving. 

“No. I tried, but— He was watching me, Father. The Lord.” 

“I’m sure he’s seen things before.” 

You shift your hips, trying to find a better angle. “Not from me.” 

“What did you think about? When you were touching yourself?” 

“I thought of the man of my dreams.” You stare at the door. “He had dark hair, and dark eyes, and these red lips. And long fingers. Long, spindly fingers, dipping inside of me, bringing me close.” With a teasing smile, you whisper conspiratorially, “He’s a profane man, Father.” 

“Well, he has to be to make you come.” 

“He hasn’t made me come.” 

“He hasn’t had the chance.” 

Hips hopelessly rocking against nothing. You practically pout at the pressure building inside your stomach with nowhere to go. You’ll have to explode. There’s nowhere else but total destruction. Out of breath, you ask, “What do you do when you feel this way?” 

“Horny?” You hear the smirk. Oh, how you want to wipe it off, make him eat it. 

You manage a little flush of shame. “Yes.” 

“Easy,” Matty says. “I am impure with myself.” 

You gasp. “Don’t make fun of me.” 

A resonating laugh, easy and freely given. “I’m serious,” he says, and it’s light. “It gets really profane.” 

You roll your eyes. Pointedly, you ask again, “What do you do?” 

Matty gets serious, perhaps for the first time in his life. “I start by touching myself, just over the pants.” Sounds of jeans ruffling. A muted moan. He— He must be doing it. Touching himself. The idea is tempting. It knocks at your temple, begging you to look. Just a peek. Just a glance. You breathe harshly, digging your hands into your thighs. 

“It’s better to tease, to get yourself worked up enough,” Matty continues. “An orgasm won’t splint you apart if you’re not begging for it. But I imagine you had to have been very close already, with that dream and all.” 

You whimper, “Really close.” 

“How wet were you?”

“Dripping. I didn’t know what to do. I had to change my pajamas.” 

A grunt. Something moving quicker, scratching the jeans. “For what?” 

“I stayed naked for a little while. Feeling my hot skin against the sheets, the scratchy material on me. I like when things are rough.” You practically moan, “Do you?” 

“Fuck. Yeah.” You like when he sounds like this. Utterly ruined. Like when it’s him, for a change. “When I’m— When I’m there, when I’m so alert I could come just from the friction, I take my cock out.” 

On the other side, something unzips. You’ve never seen it, other than clinical drawings in the health book. You bite your lip. “Is it big?” 

He laughs. “Shit, darling.” Low, husky, meant to draw in before the kill, “How about you take a look?” 

You cannot will yourself not to look any longer. Throwing senses to the heavens, you practically flip around in eagerness. You bend to the opening, trying to see through the lattice. It’s sort of blurry, scattered, but you manage to see Matty.

His hair is even messier than usual, like he has racked a shaking hand through it multiple times. His jaw is clenched. His lips parted in memory of some filthy words or some melodious moans. He wears a ruffled T-shirt, just like you guessed. It’s tight around his arms, limb flexed and tense as he holds— 

You open your mouth. He holds his cock, hard and standing, red and weeping at the tip. It’s— It’s sinful. You lick your lips, feeling your whole body getting hot. Snapping your eyes back to him, you find him watching you, smirking. 

“I don’t have anything to compare it to.” 

Matty gives himself one slow stroke. You clench your thigh, trying to silence the throbbing need. “Do you think it would fit easily?” 

You shake your head. “No. No, I’d— I’d have to work for it.” 

“There is your answer.” 

You feel hypnotized by him. He’s splintered, scattered. You don’t know where to look. To his face, falling back against the wooden wall, euphoria blooming it open and vulnerable. To his arm, flexed and hard at work. To his hands, veiny and long-fingered, wrapping around— To his cock, big and beautiful and— wouldn’t it just fit so perfectly inside of you? 

“What do you do next?” You demand more than ask. 

“I stroke myself. Like this.” Again, he passes a toughened hand over his length, swiping his thumb over the tip. His hips jump. “Gently, at first. Slowly. Still just to tease.” 

“And then?” 

He smirks, tutting. “Patience.” 

“What do you think of?” You ask instead. 

“Of a girl. With pouty lips, bitten raw. And this look in her eyes like she could burn down this whole place. Like she chooses not to.” 

Your heart beats faster, something calling to him, to being seen. “And what does she do?” 

“Man, what doesn’t she do?” 

You don’t know. You don’t know what she could do. “But— But what?” You want to. You want him.

Matty gives you a onceover. “Well, she’s touching herself. Just a graze, just a ghost, to tease herself.” 

You sigh, frustrated. You understand the command. Shamelessly, quickly, you stick your hand under your skirt, between your thighs. You don’t break eye contact with him, too focused on his face, on his mouth soon gracing the words you wanna hear, wanna know. Three fingers find your clit and suddenly you remember why you are here in the first place. 

Jolts of pure ecstasy, spasming up your stomach and down your legs. Your face scrunches, mouth opening in worship. You start rubbing faster, chasing that edge you nearly fell from, until you remember his demand. Groaning, you touch yourself slowly, curling your toes every time a tender swipe of your finger finds your clit. 

You open your eyes again. His are dark. They’re devouring you, taking in every inch of you like he could possess you, swallow you whole. “Now what?” You ask between two moans. 

“She’s laying under me, legs spread apart, moaning as I thrust into her. She has these tiny spasms when I bottom out, and she’s just purring. Moans and pants and screams. She bites her lip, but I tuck it out. I want to hear her.” 

His cock inside of you. Making space through your pit of sins. Destroying you from the inside, unmaking you. You whine. “Yeah?” 

“Yes. I go faster now.” 

His hands rub quicker. Eyes drawn to the act, you make your fingers follow the same rhythm. Building bliss. You stifle a scream, head falling on the partition. Your hair sticks to your forehead, coiling around your temple.

“There you go,” he sighs. Pride blooms in your chest. It mixes with the need, with the pleasure, until every emotion comes together in wiping waves. Your head feels entirely detached from your body. Matty groans, furiously working himself. “She’s sitting on my face too. I’m licking her — obsessed, single-minded, starved — and she’s just grinding herself on my nose. Her juices are rolling off my cheeks, but I don’t relent.” 

You nod. Yes yes yes. “She’s riding you next.” You dip one finger to your entrance, gathering the mentioned juices, going back to your bundle sticky and wet. 

“Yes.” He’s near insanity, too. You hear it in his voice. “Pinch your clit.” Obediently, you pinch yourself meanly. You cry at the resonating feeling, scrunching your eyes from intensity. “Put one finger in.” You don’t even think. One finger enters you up to your last knuckle. “Good girl.” A lazy smile on your face. I’m good. I’m good. Your finger curls into you, shoulders shivering at the feel. 

“She’s holding onto your bare chest.” You continue. The sight is so vivid. “Her nails claw into your skin, but you just scream. Her thighs are sore, but she goes faster, harder.” You’d be unstoppable. You’d ruin him. You pump yourself quicker.

“I fuck her from behind. Every time, I slap her ass, and she just whines. She fucking loves it.” You whimper at the image. Your cheeks grow sore and raw just from imagination. “Two fingers now. Go harder.” Two fingers feel like an intrusion. You wince a little in pain, but you still want to please. The more you thrust, the more you grow used to it, grow to love it. You march to the edge of a cliff, single minded, embracing the possible wrecking landing. “Yes, yes.” Finally, he screams. 

You peek an eye open to see him. His hips are rising with each stroke, as if to find his hand quicker. He spreads his precum over himself. “She’s on her knees,” you say. His stare burns you. He moves quicker, slipping screams from his lips shamelessly. “She’s taking you in her mouth. She’s—fuck—she’s swallowing you whole. You keep bucking.”

His hips convulse. “She’s coming.”

“Yeah?” Your pussy throbs. You curl your hands, harder, faster, grinding yourself on your own wrist. There’s something right there. You feel it on the tip of your tongue. 

“She’s coming. She’s— Shit, she’s right there.” 

Matty explodes, white ropes of cum spilling. It falls on his jeans and his hands, but mostly on the floor of the confessional. 

On the floor of the confessional. Your eyes widen. You gasp, taking your hand out of your skirt like you’ve been burned. 

Matty came on the floor of the confessional. His cum is there, offensive, blasphemous. You’ve— You might have done the same. You were going to. 

You came here to confess your sins and—shit—you desecrated a fucking church instead. What is wrong with you? Something deep, something from the root, something unremovable. You’re damned. You’re doomed. 

He is your ruination. 

“Oh, Gosh.” You run out of the box, blinded by the sudden light. You blink, eyes watering by the undeniable presence of God. Oh, Gosh. 

“Darling,” Matty calls after you, buckling his pants as he catches up to you.

“The Lord will never forgive me now.” You stare at the stained glass of your savior. You’re bathed in colors, but you’re all shadows. 

Matty grazes a hand on your cheek. “Love, it’s okay. Let me take care of you.” His other one finds your waist, leaning into your ear, whispering in that low voice of his, “I could get you there. In ten minutes—not even. I would only need my thigh.” You shiver at the words, at the tone, at the idea of—

You shake your head. You turn to him, practically begging for him to hear you. “I’m forsaken, Matty. I’m— I’m disgusting. This is real fucking serious.”

Matty frowns. “You’re not. You’re not—” He grows restless, bends down to kiss you. His lips don’t even brush yours; you push him away before he can wreck you—although the damage is already done, isn’t it? 

You’re dirty, now. You’ll never be clean. You’ll never be forgiven. “Don’t bring me with you.” 

A flash of hurt spreads through his face, then is wiped blank. He lets go of you. “Lie to yourself. See if I care.” 

He tramples out of the church. Perhaps he’ll never come back again. Something in you twists at the thought, but you ignore it. This is good. It hurts because it’s divine. Martyrs become saints after all.

[mellancholy-morose]

more spiritstein smut please? 🥺

heh, did you have anything specific in mind?

but don't worry anon there's plenty of steinspirit smut in my wips. sadly I'm an incredibly slow writer so you'll have to bare with me here. especially for some of my longer fics that will have smut, such as my dragfic.

more likely to be done sooner though is werewolf!spirit au which will also have some delicous smut. but even if that doesn't get finished too soon, I am planning on doing some of the cherrytober prompts, so worst case you should have some smut from me by then. in the meantime may this snippet of a few mashed together cherrytober prompts hold you over.

“Steinnn,” I moan softly, unable to restrain myself. 

Fuck I'm right there. Just a little bit more. Just. 

“Did you want my help?”

I freeze. My eyes shoot open despite my trepidation. Stein stands at my doorway, hand on the ajar door. All the heat building in me redirects to flush my face with red hot embarrassment. I should scramble to pull blankets and sheets over me, but I don't. My hand remains mid stroke on my cock, boxers shoved down and skin shiny with sweat.

He's just staring at me, waiting for a response. Do I want his help? Yes. No, of course not.

thanks for the ask anon, I'm glad you enjoy my smut of them enough to want more <3