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#sharp teeth; gentle jaws
trollsficrecs · 4 months
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Hello, I thought I might recommand this new author Inkedteeth, his/her/their work is really great and I think should get more view. The last is a werwolf AU which seems really promising (Mature though due to presence of blood). Their first fic was a wholesome "Groppy", set before the first movie with lots of feelings, you can feel the tension, the emotion in their writting (reason why I think they should get more visibility). https://archiveofourown.org/works/54884797/chapters/139124293 Hope you will like their work too !
Ao3 User InkedTeeth
Masking by InkedTeeth - ao3, 9k words - G
Ships Tagged: Branch/Poppy
Poppy crafts the perfect party for a certain grey troll. This time, he'll come for sure! Honestly she's excited to make any progress with the worlds most paranoid troll. What happens when a mysterious troll shows up to the party instead?
Sharp Teeth; Gentle Jaws by Inkedteeth - ao3, 5.8k words - M, Creator Chose not to Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions of Violence (Incomplete)
Werewolf AU
Ships Tagged: Branch/Poppy
The trolls of Pop Village knew the woods were dangerous at night, predators lurked in every corner, but they never came near their home. Not until a new beast emerged, mauling a gray orphan on the night of a full moon. Littered with scars, he sequestered himself away from the village that failed him. Years later the trolls hadn’t seen the beast for a while, only knowing it existed through broken fences as slaughtered livestock. When the news came that there was another attack within the village borders- well, the Princess had to do something, right?
There was only one troll for the job.
Would the gray survivalist help, or will his own burdens keep him locked away?
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archive-of-the-guild · 11 months
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Someone say teeth?
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wonyoiz · 2 months
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make out session with jungwon
The night was thick with tension, the kind that had been simmering between you and Jungwon for what felt like forever. The room was dimly lit, a soft glow from the streetlights outside casting long shadows on the walls. You were sitting close to him, so close that the heat from his body seemed to wrap around you.
Jungwon’s eyes were locked onto yours, his gaze was intense. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, each beat louder than the last, almost drowning out the quiet of the room. His hand slowly reached out, fingertips brushing lightly against your cheek, sending a shiver racing down your spine.
“Are you okay?” Jungwon’s voice was low, barely more than a whisper, but it cut through the tension like a knife.
You nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah…” you admitted, your voice shaky, betraying the emotions swirling inside you.
His lips curled into a small, reassuring smile, but his eyes remained serious, leaning in slightly, his warm breath against your skin. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.”
Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a tentative kiss. The softness of his touch was almost maddening, but it didn’t stay gentle for long. As if sensing your need, Jungwon deepened the kiss, his hand moving to the back of your neck, pulling you closer.
You let out a small gasp against his lips, your hands unconsciously reaching for his chest. The kiss quickly grew more intense, more urgent, and you found yourself pressing closer to him, craving for more. His lips moved against yours with a skillful confidence, and when his teeth grazed your lower lip, biting down gently, you couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped you.
Jungwon’s response was immediate, a low groan rumbling from his chest as he tightened his grip on you. “You like that?” he murmured against your lips.
You bit back a smile. “What do you think?” you teased, before biting down on his lip in return, a little harder than he had, just to see his reaction.
It was instant. A sharp intake of breath, followed by a deep, hungry kiss that left you breathless. His hands roamed over your body, finally settling at your waist as he pulled you onto his lap.
You couldn’t help but tug at his hair as he nipped at your lip again, this time harder, almost as if daring you to stop him. “Jungwon…” you whispered, the sound of his name on your lips only spurring him on.
“Say it again,” he murmured, his lips trailing down your jaw, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck.
“Jungwon,” you breathed out, your voice trembling with a mix of pleasure and anticipation. You tilted your head, giving him better access, and he took full advantage, biting down just enough to make you gasp, his lips soothing the sting immediately after.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. You looked into his eyes, still feeling the lingering effects of his touch, and bit your lip, a small smile playing on your mouth. “Then don’t stop”.
His eyes darkened, and without another word, his lips were on yours again, and you were lost in him, the night stretching on as you surrendered to the tension that had been building for so long.
Wrote this because I feel like he’s the type to bite the lower lip when making out lol
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supercutszns · 8 months
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Hi!! Just had to drop in and say I LOVED your Luke fic and I can’t wait for more. I would love protective Luke with hurt/comfort, if that sounds interesting at all. Thanks for sharing your writing!!! 🌸
fighting chance; luke castellan
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wc + pairing: 4.2k, luke castellan x daughter of ares! reader
synopsis: when an enemy takes advantage of your kindness during capture the flag, luke intervenes with a sword in hand.
warnings: a creepy boy👎, threats/harm to reader, she’s going through it, blood/injuries (nothing major), angry ANGRY luke, violence, lots of fluff/reassurance at the end<3
notes: thank you SO much for your kind words & your request!! hurt/comfort is my bread and butter my favourite fic genre of all time i think. & protective luke is just a bonus bc he’s already crazy so it can go as far as i want🤭 i’m not exactly sure what this turned into but if i fix it any more i'm going to go insane so hope you like it!
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You’re not much of a fighter.
That alone is a normal thing to admit—plenty of people don’t like violence, the frisson of a challenge, the bruises that come with them. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.
Unless you’re a child of Ares.
People at camp often ridicule your gentle nature when they see you with your half-siblings. They’re all gritted teeth and sharp edges, born warriors that take up all the space they can get. You, on the other hand, are lousy with weapons and even lousier with your fists. You’re quiet, attentive. While your siblings charge into battle without second thought you stay back, flitting around to adjust armour, change out weapons, oversee the terrain. Planning isn’t Ares’ style so you’re pretty much useless but nobody wants to admit it. You’re usually mistaken as a child of Hephaestus or Athena.
Unfortunately, you are a child of Ares, through and through—just in none of the ways that matter.
There are rare times your father’s influence peeks through. Not with bursts of rage or fists flying, but with thoughts. And sometimes those thoughts turn into words. Well, not sometimes. One time. This one.
The evening before the camp’s Capture the Flag game, every cabin gathered around the bonfire past dinner. To burn offerings, to chat, or in Luke Castellan’s case, to admire.
He watches you laugh with Clarisse from a distance. The Ares cabin leader always had a certain fondness for you. When Luke first started dating you he had to ask Clarisse for her blessing beforehand just to be sure she wouldn’t kill him. He’d do it a million times over just for the moment you look back, your face warming when you catch his stare. He rolls his eyes at you to lessen his smile, but he’s not sure it works. You giggle and turn back to your friend.
He’s always loved your softness; your capacity to defend and not attack. Your body rejects any skill you could possibly develop for violence. Believe him, he’s tried to teach you sword fighting, but the last time he gave you a lesson you nearly impaled yourself thirty seconds in. He loves your wit and your tenderness, your proficiency at preventing conflict, your refusal to argue. But a selfish part of him loves the fact that he’s your protector even more.
The night wears on with the flickers of fire and friendly banter. One of the times Luke looks back at you, his brows wrinkle. There’s a guy talking to you. A group of them, actually, but there’s one clearly leading the pack. Some Aphrodite kid. Luke’s jaw twitches.
“Hey, princess,” the voice makes you pull away from your talk with Clarisse, but you’re confused. Luke is the only one that calls you that.
“Um, me?” You ask when you see the boy in front of you. He’s tall, chest puffed out. It’s not an endearing silhouette. “What’s up?”
“You wanna be on my team for Capture the Flag tomorrow?” He asks nonchalantly.
You laugh politely, “Sorry, but I don’t think we’re allied with Aphrodite tomorrow. That’s your cabin, isn’t it?” You feel bad that you can’t remember—his face is so … plain.
He chuckles back, but it’s a lot less nice. “No, doll, that’s not what I mean.” He steps a little too close, and even though you know Clarisse is behind you it feels like she’s a thousand miles away. “Well,” he drawls, a smirk drawn out, “you meet me in the forest after we start, and then we can … you know. Confer.”
“Confer?”
“Yeah. You get what I mean, pretty girl, don’t play dumb.”
A revulsion coats your gut. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me that,” you say as firmly as you can.
“What, pretty or dumb? Why not both?”
It’s demeaning, the way he says it, and it stirs a temper in your stomach you know you inherited from your father. You’re not big on confrontation. Or embarrassment. But this weirdo is talking to you out in the open and people are starting to stare. He wouldn’t dish it out if he can’t take it, right?
“I’ll pass on your offer. I have a boyfriend and I’m actually on his team tomorrow, so I’d rather confer with him, sorry.” Your hands wring together but you do your best to quell them, imagining it’s the string of Luke’s camp necklace, threaded between your fingers. You try to look for him out of the corner of your eye.
He snickers, even though it’s common knowledge you and Luke have been together for months now. “So you are dumb, huh?” He tries to smirk and you assume is supposed to be sexy, but it’s just gross. His hand tries to slide around your waist.
“Don’t touch me, please,” you hit his hand away. Your skin is crawling and the knot inside you tightens.“Just leave me alone. People are looking, you know.”
“We could go somewhere where nobody looks,” he sneers, and the grin on his face is so sleazy that you just can’t stand it anymore.
You pray to your father for strength. And to yourself for forgiveness.
“I’m sorry, are you stupid or something? I told you, no.” You snap. “Maybe you’re the pretty dumb one, but for a child of Aphrodite it’s shocking how little the first one applies.”
His eyes are wide, and the posse he’d assembled behind him has attracted quite the view. You almost feel like crying, all these eyes on you, but you’re so sick of people thinking they can walk all over you just because you’re not like your siblings.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? I’m just trying to be nice—” He grabs your wrist as you leave but you yank it hard.
“Don’t. Touch me.” People are staring at you now, but the only one you care about is Luke, who looks equally ticked and equally proud, and all you want to do is kiss him. “Hope the only time we confer tomorrow is if somebody’s sword is at your throat.”
It’s the last thing you say to him. He starts to go after you but Luke is already at your heels. “Back off, man.” You can spot how all his muscles are already rearing themselves for a fight. You wrap a hand around his wrist, and he meets your eyes. Not now.
The altercation is lost the second the two of you leave the bonfire. Nothing matters when Luke has you in his arms, kissing you outside of your cabin, telling you how damn beautiful you looked.
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You’re fixing a new Ares boy’s armour when Luke finds you. “Hey, angel,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. He relishes in the way your face heats up. “You ready for battle?”
You smile, “Always.” You pat the kid on the cheek and send him on his way. He gnashes his teeth and roars, joining his siblings at the front. Luke catches the longing in your expression.
“All good?” He asks gently.
It takes you a second for your eyes to meet his. “Mmhm,” you swallow. “Just hope his armour doesn’t fall off.”
Luke sighs for a moment, then wraps his arms around you. “He’ll be fine, sweetheart. Be safe, okay? Stay close.” He kisses your temple, rubbing circles on the nape of your neck.
“Yes sir,” you reply against his chest. His insides flutter.
He pulls your face up to his and kisses you, tender and wanting. “Let’s show these hooligans who’s boss,” he quips.
“You’ll show them. I’ll hide in the woods until some idiot comes along and tries to ambush you.”
Your dulcet tone has him wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even know it. “You’ve always got my back,” he croons, kissing your brow.
“And you’ve always got our flag.”
You kiss him again and he lets you slip out of his arms no matter how badly he wants to keep you there forever. He watches you vanish into the trees, and his heart goes with you.
He gears up with his team and the horn sounds. Game on.
There’s yelling, sweat, adrenaline, and Luke embraces it all like a man starved. This is his chance to be ruthless, to let all his untapped rage cycle through him. This is why he’s unstoppable. This is why he’s the best.
Clarisse is unusually cooperative today, but competent as always, and whenever someone’s weapon breaks or they lose their team she just barks at them to go find you. You, the smartest person in Ares, who can mend a weapon with nothing but blades of grass and determination. Luke is pretty sure your cabin would be lost without you. He wonders if you know.
The groove of the game has fully enthralled him. He’s alert, his wrist nimble, his sword a living, breathing part of him. There’s almost nothing that can take him out of his victory path until he hears one of the younger campers tell Clarisse he can’t find you anymore.
Whatever nincompoop he’s dealing with is left groaning on the floor. “What?” He barks, hand flexing around his sword. “Where is she?”
“Probably just moved,” Clarisse grunts as she kicks back an opposing camper. “She knows where everything is. Maybe she’s—oof—safer.”
“But how am I supposed to fix my spear?” The kid frowns.
Luke runs his tongue along the roof of his mouth, dry and laden with salt. He told you to stay close. Where would you go? “I’ll find her,” he decides, already sheathing his sword to walk towards the trees.
“Luke—”
“I’ll find her!”
He barely pays attention to the calamity going on around him. With a flick of his wrist he knows he can take out any person he wants. The second he gets to the trees, where the air is cooler, it’s startling how much quieter it is. No wonder this is your preferred hiding spot.
He thanks the quiet a thousand times over because if it had been any louder he wouldn’t have heard you scream.
It’s so short it’s almost indiscernible, but he knows it’s you based on how his body movies before his brain does. It snaps something in him, the adrenaline transformed into something acerbic, determined.
“Don’t fucking scream again.” A cluster of boys are stationed around you. You’re leaning back in the dirt. You barely feel the earth sticking to your skin. Just your heart jostling madly, your fingertips shaking in the ground beside you. “Okay, I won’t, just put the sword down—”
The snarling Aphrodite boy from last night takes a swing at you, and you scramble back just enough to avoid it. “No can do, doll.” His face is twisted with rage. The lackeys he had when you told him off are there too, cornering you against a cluster of trees like you’re some caged animal. There’s a dagger clenched in one of your dirt-ridden fists but you know it won’t do you any good. You can’t fight; you don’t have it in you. But these boys do. And they’re angry.
“Tell me where the flag is,” he orders. The tip of his blade comes under your chin, fogging up with the labours of your breath, your head pressed against the trunk of a tree.
You stutter, “You’re not—You’re not supposed to threaten like this—”
“You embarrassed me in front of all those people yesterday,” he cuts you off. “Thinking you’re so fucking smart. I didn’t even say anything that big a deal but you run your mouth to the entire camp and make me look like the idiot. I thought you were nice.”
The words are laced with poison. You know from the wild look in his eyes that this isn’t about the flag at all.
Tears sting your eyes and the sword grazes your throat. Of course this is happening to you. The one time you feel your father’s rage, when you exemplify the thing you’re told to be, you are punished.
You are never going to be the right kind of daughter.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you try to say it evenly, but your breath is so ragged it’s barely audible. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said all that.” You mean it, but they won’t care.
The boy’s face looks pleased at your tears. It makes you inexorably ashamed. “Some fucking Ares kid,” he snorts. “Can’t even fight, can you? Can’t even pretend to.” His sword leaves your throat and travels up to your quivering jaw. You’re wordless, white-knuckling the dagger at your side, praying that Luke is somewhere nearby.
“No wonder they stash you back here. You’re useless.” His eyes scan every part of you, and the idea of him knowing what you look like forever is so revolting it makes you want to vanish. “Too bad you’re alone, though. Nobody’s gonna know I was here because nobody’s gonna hear you.”
Your eyes get wide, and something in your mind rumbles through you like an engine. An urge buried in your blood.
Your dagger tears into his leg just as his sword dashes your arm. The pain is sharp, stinging, but the boy winces and you know you hurt him too. It gives you just enough time to roll out of the way as he lurches forward. “The fuck is wrong with you?” He swears.
Blood drips onto your shorts, splotched with tears. You know you can’t go anywhere because his friends are here and you’re almost certain you’ll be maimed, but you tried. At least you tried.
The Aphrodite boy picks his sword back up, stalks towards you, and then freezes.
Because Luke has just spotted you. And he’s spotted the boy that has you on the ground.
And he’s the best fucking swordsman Camp Half-Blood has seen in three hundred years.
“If you don’t get away from her right now I’m putting this through your skull.” He emerges from the foliage, his sword raised, sweat dripping down his face. You have never seen anyone look angrier. He has never felt angrier.
The boy blanches, and Luke sees how easily his lapdog friends shrink in his presence. Good.
“Woah, easy,” the boy holds his hands up in mock surrender and tries to flash a smile but it’s just fucking pathetic. His arms are shaking and his throat bobs about a million times. “We’re just playing the game.”
“Like hell you are,” Luke spits. “You gang up on my girlfriend and you expect me to believe this is fair play? Want me to tie you all together and push one of you off a cliff to keep the spirit going?”
“Didn’t know she was yours,” the boy tries to shrug but again, it’s a miserable attempt that only makes Luke feel stronger.
“Not that it matters but yes, you do,” Luke chuckles thickly. “I beat your ass in sword training last week. You know exactly who I am. And I’m sure you know who you are, so it’s obvious you’re playing out of your league here.”
Out of the corner of his eye he sees you still cowering, blood dribbling down your arm. He wants to tear the world apart. “Apologize and maybe I don’t send you to the infirmary.”
“We just want the flag, man,” the boy swallows.
“And I want your head on a stick. Want to see who gets what first?”
It’s too provocative an insult for a moron like this to ignore, so soon Luke has the pleasure of disarming five bitter boys that have clearly never been good at a single thing in their life. He tears through them like sheets of paper, knocking them to the dirt, ripping their clothes. He thinks of you, just you, your honest heart and patient hands, and it’s enough to fuel him for a millennia.
The last boy, the leader, is at Luke’s mercy, and he has none to give. The flat of Luke’s blade is pressed horizontally against the boy’s neck, an angering similarity to the position he had you in earlier. “If you ever do this again, I’m going to kill you.”
“You’re—fucking—crazy—” The boy wheezes, the length of the blade squeezing his throat against a tree trunk. “I’ll—I‘ll tell Chiron.”
Luke has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep him from doing something he regrets. “Oh yeah? You want me to tell Chiron how you harassed and terrorised a girl in the middle of the forest all in the name of play? Want me to tell him what you said to her last night at the campfire? Because I’m sure it won’t take much for him to get rid of your ugly face as it is, and I’m a camp counsellor.”
He knows it’s not the most morally correct use of his title. He knows he might be stepping over the line. But he also knows you’re always being ignored or trampled over and he’s tired of pretending like he doesn’t give a damn. He’s tired of people trying to force you into something you’re not. Of you crying in his bed at night because they’re trying to drag a violence out of you that isn’t there. Always in the name of fucking play.
Luke takes the sword off the boy’s neck and shoves him backwards. His calf is bleeding, not a deep wound, but a wound nonetheless, and Luke is full of pride when he realizes you did that. The boy’s bad leg makes him wobble and fall at the force of the push. Luke enjoys watching the scramble. “I—I was just trying to be nice, it’s not my fault she took it the wrong way!” The boy flails his hands in the air, rising to his feet again, and Luke shoves him down twice as hard. A piece of his shirt tears off in Luke’s hand.
“You’ve gotta stop talking or I really am going to kill you,” he seethes. “Don’t touch her ever again. Go.”
Luke is sure he looks homicidal right now because the guy finally tumbles his way down the hill. His body fades into the distance, swallowed up by shrubbery and sweat.
The second he’s gone Luke tosses his sword and armour and gets back to you. “Shit,” he mutters, kneeling down. You’re still shaking, your head in your arms, and all his hatred morphs into a love so desperate it terrifies him. “Angel, come here. Let me see.” He lifts your face with his hands and scans you rapidly. “Did he hurt you anywhere else? Anywhere?”
“Just my arm,” you whimper. “My arm.”
He knows it’s not the cut that’s hurting you; it’s long, but thin, and it’s not bleeding too thickly. He takes the cloth from the Aphrodite boy’s shirt and wraps it around your arm, knotting it at the end. “All right, that should be better.”
You look at him with watery eyes, and he knows all you need is for him to hold you. He folds you in his arms and leans against a stump. You can’t get close to him fast enough. The tip of your nose buries itself in his neck and he feels the dampness of your cheeks on his skin. “It’s okay, sweetheart, you’re safe,” he soothes, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I’m so sorry.”
Guilt swaths over him for a brief moment; he wonders if he shouldn’t have done all that, if he should’ve been more sensible. Then your lips form a ‘thank you’ against his skin and all is forgotten.
You feel so small. The shock is still running its course, so all you can do is cry it out. Your hands still shake when you thread your fingers through Luke’s necklace to steady them. He soothes you the best he can, running his hand along your spine, all the sharpness of his voice softened just for you. “You’re all right, angel. I’m not going anywhere.”
You stay like that for a while. The sounds of the forest return to you; leaves in the wind, birds chirping, Luke’s breath tickling your hair. You crane your head up to nuzzle your nose against the faint stubble of his jaw. “My hero,” you murmur, and feel his skin shift as he smiles.
“Couldn’t have done it without you. Saw the cut you gave him on his leg.” He kisses your temple. “I hope it gets infected.”
You giggle weakly no matter how you try smothering it in his chest. “Gods, you’re awful.”
“He deserves it! I probably should have killed him!”
“You came pretty close, didn’t you?” You mumble. Luke’s expression is wary, but you smile to yourself and it dispels everything. “I was hoping you’d come.”
“Good. Serves them right, messing with you like that. Fucking idiots.” He kisses your face again for good measure, “You sure they didn’t get you anywhere else, princess?”
You nod but you know you look wounded. You nudge into the crook of Luke’s neck again. “They … you know, it’s just … the usual stuff.” Every word weighs a pound as it comes out. Your heart feels sore.
Luke tenses again instantly. “What usual stuff?”
“Um, just—” The shame gets caught in your throat. “They all think I’m useless, Luke. Why can’t I do this right?”
You start to cry again, but he just holds you closer. Sometimes it surprises you how much patience he has. He prides himself as the harsher one between the two of you, but you don’t know who he’s fooling with the way he always knows how to comfort people.
“I don’t know what to do,” you continue, blinking back tears, “I’m not—I’m just not good at this, I don’t know why I’m in Ares, I don’t know why I can’t … be that. Why is he my father? I’m no good at being angry. I want to be angry.”
Luke’s quiet for a moment. Nothing changes except his hand rubbing circles on the nape of your neck again. Then he sighs deeply and says, “You don’t owe your father a damn thing. You don’t owe anyone anything.” He’s resolute, firm, a sharp contrast to his gentle kiss on your hairline. “You’re the smartest, most generous person I know. You need those people in battle. You’ll lose if you don’t.”
The warmth of his skin prompts you to look up at him. He looks different so often, the way he can shift between so tough and so gentle. Sometimes, like now, he’s caught in the middle, the remains of a furious sweat hardening his face, but his eyes are nothing but tender. You think it’s how you like him best.
“Besides, we’re not our parents, right? Who cares about Ares anyway?” Luke shrugs.
“Luke! Don’t say that!” your tears turn into a giggle. “The Gods might punish you!”
“I’ll handle it. There’s enough fight in me for the both of us.”
“Okay, tough guy,” you mutter with a weak smile.
You’re still sniffling. He runs his thumbs across your cheeks, and his gaze softens. “You’re an Ares kid because you are a fighter, angel. You just fight a hell of a lot smarter than the rest of us. Best one I know. Well, other than me.”
It makes you smile. “So second-best?”
“Tied for first.”
He kisses you with that stupid roguish smile. It’s salty with tears and sweat, but it mends your heart anyway. There is nowhere in the world you’d feel safer.
“I love you,” he says against your cheek. “Be as sweet as you want. If anyone has anything to say about it I’ll mess ‘em up good.” Your face warms as his voice drops to your ear, “And I know you’re an Ares kid because you’ll encourage it every time. You might not have a violent bone in your body, but you sure don’t have a problem with me using mine.”
“Diplomatically, Luke. Diplomatically.”
“Sure, sure. Whatever you want.”
You can’t help but kiss him again. You’re not entirely sure why he loves you so much, why you love him so much, but you never feel quite as secure as when you’re with him.
Cheers boom from the other side of camp. Luke’s head perks up like a dog, and you turn back to search for spots of red or blue. “Did we win?” You ask, craning your head to get a better view.
“Don’t care,” Luke says.
You look back at him. His anxious face says it all. “Yes, you do.”
“Okay yes, I do, and I need to see if those douches found our flag so I can choke them out with it.”
You laugh, standing so Luke can jog off to see the state of your team. But before he goes, he picks you up and smothers you in kisses, holding you like you’re his prize.
You are not a fighter, but your boyfriend sure is. And you’re perfectly okay with that.
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k9wa · 6 months
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⟁ A BULLET A DAY, ft. BOOTHILL.
⠀ — where teasing, annoying, poking and prodding all fall under the same category; flirting.
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⚠︎︎ more mechanic! reader, gn, boothill being an idiot, flirting, suggestive, he has fake teeth to me, something about tension + leaving him high and dry is soooo ….
from this request !
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it’s a miracle, truly, how boothill manages to be so tempting and endearing yet so utterly irritating and infuriating at the same time. 
and it’s hot, sure, but that just makes it all the more annoying, leaves you frustrated and with an odd pool in your stomach.  
boothill managed his way into your supply of bullets, happily tossing back the brass casings like a simple snack. it was a genius idea at the time, really, giving him a stomach that can store ammunition. though had you expected him to chew on the damn things instead of swallowing them— you know, like he was intended to— you would’ve just given him a little side bag to save yourself the work.
you half hoped the lead stuffing the things would seep into his still intact brain, but chastised yourself for the thought soon after having it. you don’t hate him that much. your brain should check back and try the thought again in twenty minutes. 
“y’know what’d be real neat, buttercup?” boothill’s legs were kicked up lazily on your workbench as he sat next to you, waiting for you to finish a small modification on his revolver. “spikes in my boots.” he lifted a foot up, rolling his ankle a bit. “you know, them retractable ones. be able t’a have some real fun with those things.”
you snorted, his efforts to dodge his synesthesia beacon as entertaining as always.
“since when do i take requests?” you asked, eyes focused down on your work— far too used to his antics to lift your head anymore.
“since when d’you deny gettin’ to tinker with me?”
he brought his feet down to the floor and leaned forward on his thighs, the denim of his pants tightening around them. “what, gonna make me say please and thank ya now?” 
you truly wanted to reply, say it wasn’t a half bad idea and that you’d look into the upgrade. until he started shaking a few bullets around in his palm like they were fucking almonds.
now boothill noticed the clench of your jaw, and oh how he revelled in it. he’s fully aware how the crunching of brass and lead peeves you, ie. you telling him to knock it off an hour ago— (“it ain’t hurtin’ nobody, is it now?”—) but you’re just so darn cute when you’re ticked off. he’s gotta push your buttons just a lil bit. 
“somethin’ the matter?” the way his sharp teeth gleamed through that damn grin weren’t doing anything to help. 
he took a bullet between his thumb and forefinger, the shiny gunmetal digits pinching the ammunition as he held it up next to you. “d’ya care for one, sugar plum?”
fine, you thought. two can play that game.
you tore your attention away from the old steel revolver, finally turning to look at him. boothill prepared for an insult, one he’d tell you was ‘flatterin’ and all,’ but it didn’t come.
you leaned towards his hand, keeping your eyes locked with his that glowed a familiar and faint red. 
then you took the bullet between your tongue and top front teeth, gently pulling it out of his hands with your mouth.
his smirk actually dropped— you’d think someone stuck an infected usb into his ear with all the ideas that flooded the forefront of his brain, making his circuits just tingle with excitement. something about the hot single mechanic in his area.
you turned back to your desk, removing the bullet from your teeth and twirling it between your fingers idly as you gave a once over to his revolver, as if nothing had happened.
boothill blinked, chuckling gruffly with a shake of his head as he slumped back in his chair, flicking another bullet into the air with his thumb and catching it in his palm with a gentle clink! the cyborg gave a low whistle as he kicked his feet back up.
“ain’t you somethin’,” he drawled, earning a chuckle from you. “y’sure know how t’keep a man on his toes, don’t ya buttercup?” 
“i dunno what you mean, boothill.” you only offered a hum, willfully ignorant to boothill’s colourful imagination.
“oh i’m real sure y’don’t.” he shook his head, another chuckle rumbling his chest and sending a shiver down your neck.
“say,” he leaned towards you, his shoulder to yours, feeling a little lucky and dropping his voice to a knee-weakening purr, “if that pretty mouth a’yers likes metal, i’m more’en happy t’a—” 
“all done.”
all bets go down the drain. boothill deadpanned as you clicked the barrel of his gun into place and handed it back to him, standing up to stretch your arms.
“shops closed for today,” you fold them, leaning back against your bench. “you better get a move on before i have to kick you out.”
boothill’s eyes trailed up your figure, taking his sweet time finding your face. the cowboy raised an eyebrow into a cocky arch despite him swearing his body was on the verge of its cooling protocol. 
“you keep woundin’ me, sugar.” 
“i dunno what you mean, boothill.”
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⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?
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classyrbf · 2 months
Note
please please please write one where everything toji does just turns reader on so much that she can’t let go of him and he literally begs and whimpers for her to give him a break and she keeps saying “just one more”? (established relationship ofc)
SWEET SPOT! — TOJI FUSHIGURO
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SYNOPSIS...after you husband comes home from the gym, you find yourself getting all hot and bothered, pouncing on him the second the opportunity arrived
INFO...toji x fem!reader, reader is extremely needy for toji, creampies, overstim, riding, squirting, messy, not proofread
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
thanks for the request anon!
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“Hah—fuck nngh! Baby, slow…down!” Toji says through gritted teeth as you bounce up and down on his cock for what seemed like hours now. Your hips slamming down on his as you milked his cock, swallowing him whole and taking him for everything he’s worth. He doesn’t know what’s gotten into you, ever since he walked through the door you’ve been acting like a bitch in heat. His hands gripped at your ass, eyes rolling back as he felt his third orgasm approaching. He doesn’t even know how he’s still hard, but goddamn do you make it hard for him to stop.
“Gonna cum again, Toji? Want inside of me again,” you pant, eyes glazed over with lust as you stare at your husband. His jaw was slack, moans and whimpers escaping his throat while his hips twitched beneathing you. “You make me crazy, baby. I love it.” You messily kiss his swollen lips, feeling his hot cum coat your insides, your back arching into him more as you continue to fuck him.
“Baby…baby…nngh! Please, fuck! It’s too sensitive. I need—ah!” Your pussy grips around him like a vice, the mess made between you two makes lewd sounds echo through your bedroom, something out of a porn movie. “I need a break, baby, please,” he begs, desperation written all over his flushed face. His hands are roaming all over you body, a reaction from the overwhelming feeling of you wet cunt pleasuring him.
“I…I can’t stop—hah! Need…need you so bad. Just wanna keep fucking you and fucking you and—mmm fuck yes!” You squealed once you feel his bulbous tip hit your sweet spot. “Got me all worked up, baby.” You press your sweaty bodies together, holding him against you tightly as you focus on rolling your hips just the way you like. You pull at the hairs on the nape of his neck, mewling each time he grazes over your g-spot, feeling his dick throb inside of you.
“Shit! Oh my god!” His eyes screw shut, chest heaving up and down as he ascends to an ethereal plane of pleasure, a place he’s never been before. “Gonna…fucking…c-cum—nngh fuck!” He’s cumming for a fourth time now, brain turned to mush while you sit there and take it, only turned on even more than before. Hard nipples press against his broad chest, a lazy smile on your face and you caress his cheek. Pools of cum leak from your pussy and down to his balls, creating a sticky mess on the sheets that neither of you cared about at the moment.
“I just wanna keep fucking you—need to keep fucking you,” you whisper in his ear, licking a stripe down his neck, a slightly salty taste lingering on your tongue from the sweat. You pepper kisses along his sharp jawline, gentle compared to your movement below. “Hah, Toji, baby, I’m gonna cum!” Your brows furrow as little whimpers form into pants and moans. “Fuck! Fuck!” You fuck him harder out of pure greed feeling the pressure in your lower abdomen when you finally lift your hips and let go. Streams of clear liquid shoot from your dripping cunt, soaking your thighs and Toji’s as well, his cum mixing in with your juices and dripping out of your hole.
You’re holding onto him for dear life, body quivering and growing weak as you continue to squirt, sheets soaked. “Oh my god!” You suck in a breath, falling into his arms as you try and come down from an orgasm that strong, shaky breaths leaving your lips. You stare at him through thick lashes, sloppily kissing his lips while his hands grope your ass, pulling you closer on his lap. You still felt needy, horny, rocking your hips back and forth to find any sort of friction. You moan into the miss before pulling back from your husband. “I just wanna sit on your face now,” you say without thought.
You push him back on the bed, his head falling against the plush pillows. You climb over him, each one of your legs on either side of his head and it takes no more than a second for you to properly sit on his face. A blissful sigh escapes you, throwing your head back in ecstasy when you feel his tongue dip between your folds. “Always make me feel so good,” you moan. One thing Toji knows, is he’s gonna be here for a long while.
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shotmrmiller · 7 months
Text
pornstar au
f!reader x ghost x price :)
2.7k words
tw: teacher-student scenario again, just for the sake of the porn. also, DP. first time writing it, so be NICE!
big thanks to @waves-against-a-cliff for reading what i won't
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You sat on Professor Riley's lap after class, his rigid length smearing precum in between your soft, bare thighs as he fucked them. His large hands curled around your waist, long fingers creating tiny dents where he dug them into the supple flesh.
His breath warmed the delicate skin of your throat, as pants escaped his lips. You deliberately pressed your legs closer together— hoping that it provided enough amount of friction for him to finish.
You need this extra credit, after all.
Ghost inhaled sharply when you did, the grip he had on you almost painful.
"Fuckin' hell." His rich groan resonated in your chest. The gusset of your knickers was damp with arousal, both yours and his. The languid drag of his cock against your clothed pussy was so tantalizing, your core ached to be filled.
You were about to urge him to forget intercrural sex— to undress and fuck you already when a sharp knock on the door cuts through the fog in your head; a sudden rush of clarity pouring over you like a bucket of ice-cold water.
Shit.
Your back straightens at the interruption and quickly move to get off of Ghost's lap when he wraps an arm around your middle, keeping you firmly in place. A strangled noise claws up your throat. He cannot be serious.
"Come in," he calls out.
"No. No no no, you can't— you'll be fired, I'll be expelled, Professor Riley, please—" your voice warbles in your panic. His hold on you is as strong as steel, leaving no room for escape or resistance. You're helpless as the doors creep open and Professor Price steps in.
Of course, it's the most pretentious asshole teacher in existence.
"Hey, Riley, have you gotten the ema—" he trails off. His striking blue eyes flick down to your legs. Or more precisely, to what's still in between them fully erect.
"I was unaware you were busy with a...student." The sound of his footsteps draws closer. "Is this what you call detention?" Price leans on the desk with his hip, eyes never straying from you.
Ghost stifles a laugh. "Ask a better question, Price."
Heat licks up your jaw and cheeks when he resumes his thrusting as if there isn't another whole grown man in the room— one who can potentially ruin both his career and your collegiate one.
"Like what, Riley? Want me to ask if I can get a taste?" You look at Price and notice that his eyes are dark, limpid blue rings around the edges— knuckles stained white with how tightly he's clenching his hands. "You've never been a sharing type."
"Well, this sweet toy of mine loves being shared, doesn't she?" Swiftly, Ghost lifts you, his manhood now nestled against the curve of your back. His clever fingers move to your covered center, and draw featherlight circles on your hood, right above your clit. A whimper falls from your lips at the feeling.
"Answer him, pet. Tell Price ya don't mind gettin' this pretty pussy licked by him." He presses down on your bundle of nerves firmly with the pad of his thumb when you take a second too long to answer.
"I, I don't," you hiss when he rubs, "d-don't mind." Ghost gives your cunt a gentle tap.
"Don't mind what?" You swallow the lump lodged in your throat.
"I don't mind getting my pussy licked by Professor Price." His teeth tenderly graze the shell of your ear, followed by a small nip.
"Good girl," he mutters into your hair. Then directs his attention to Price, who's biting his bottom lip— the look he's giving you making your head swim. "She answered, so get down here or get out," he commands.
Ghost clasps his hands under your thighs and lifts until your feet rest flat above his knees. He hooks a finger into the sodden fabric of your knickers and drags it to the side, baring your glistening slit to the cold air of the room, erupting your heated skin in goosebumps. "On your knees, old man, unless they're too creaky to handle this."
Price's lip curls with unveiled amusement. "I was simply admirin' the view, Riley. Don't get your pants in a twist." He lowers himself to the floor smoothly until he's kneeled within inches of your exposed sex.
His prickly beard tickles the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, and his mouth is warm and wet as his tongue slides between your folds.
Another former industry giant devouring your passion with the hunger of a starved man at a lavish feast. Each stroke of his tongue spreads the warmth in your stomach, a pressure slowly rising, building—
"Sit her on you," Price mouths against your cunt.
When you find yourself wedged between two burly men, there's not much you can do except surrender to their wishes. That means being lowered onto Ghost— instinctively closing your eyes as you savor the stretch and biting the inside of your gummy cheek at the mildly uncomfortable burn.
Gravity does most of the work as you sink into him in one gentle stroke.
And without reprieve, Price dives right back in. The dull ache from where Ghost's tip presses into the plug of your womb, to the pleasure coming from the attention given to your swollen bundle of nerves.
An intoxicating mix of bliss with pain furling at the edges.
It's so good, teetering on the edge of too much, but when Price sucks lightly on your clit, your body seizes. You scrabble to grab his dark brown hair, blunt nails biting into his scalp as your shatter around Ghost's cock and Price's mouth.
Ecstasy pulses through you like the steady beat of your heart, white-hot euphoria coursing through your veins. There's a ringing in your ears, shrill and deafening, and your breathing comes in ragged pants as you come down from your high.
Your face glistens with sweat as droplets trickle down your temples, hair plastered to your forehead.
Jesus.
Price lapped at the arousal that dripped down Ghost's length, softly groaning at the taste before giving you a wolfish grin behind his coarse facial hair that was damp with your desire.
"Welcome back, sweetheart," he murmurs.
You relax the tight hold you have on his hair as he tenderly kisses where you and Ghost are joined.
Ghost nudges your ear with his nose, and his deep voice rolls over you like a wave. "Greedy little cunt jus' about cut off my circulation, pet." He shifts under you, sliding even deeper than before, a hiss escaping from behind your teeth.
"I think Price is feelin' a little left out, don't you?" With a shaky nod and a quiet mhm, you feel his lips press against the side of your neck.
"Think you can take us both?" It feels more like a warning of what's to come than a genuine question. The idea of being stuffed by both of them sends a thrill up your back.
Price sits back on his haunches, palming himself from outside his trousers. "Think so, sweetheart?" He rises to his feet and promptly sweeps away everything from the wooden desk, scattering them across the floor. Taking a seat on the desk, he positions himself comfortably, his legs slightly bent and his feet firmly touching the ground. How unfair.
With a hand, Price beckons you to him.
Your legs tremble almost comically after having them in such an unnatural position for so long; tingling when you finally stretch them out in front of you. Ghost's hands at your waist help you stand, wincing when he pulls out of you unceremoniously.
Under his breath, he apologizes and gently nudges you towards Price by pressing his hand on your shoulder blades. "Go on, it's rude to keep him waiting." You're then guided forward as warm hands wrap around your biceps, leading you to stand in front of Price.
You drag your eyes from his down to his groin, where his erection is confined behind the strained zipper. Suddenly, Ghost's toned arms surround you, his hands eagerly reaching for the button on the front. "Lemme help ya out, love."
In seconds, Price's heavy manhood bobs as it springs out, ruddy tip hitting just below his navel. Simon firmly grabs your hand and swiftly turns it, exposing your palm. Without warning, he shamelessly spits on it before wrapping it around Price.
A guttural noise escapes him when you squeeze the thick of it tightly. He bucks his hips in a deliberate rhythm— taking hold of your wrist, ensuring your hand remains in position as he continues to thrust upwards until his cock is slick with his precum.
You can't help but rub your thighs together in hopes of getting some of the friction you're desperate for.
"Not gonna come already, are ya Price? We haven't even gotten started." Ghost ignores his scoff, rapping his knuckles on the desk. "Knickers off and climb up, pet."
You hastily tear off your smallclothes, shucking them to the side with your foot before hopping up on the desk, one leg at a time. Price steadies you with his hands on your waist. As you straddle him, your muscles ignite with a satisfying burn as they adjust the expanse of his thighs.
His voice is soft, gentle even, when he whispers into your ear. "Good?" You gasp sharply when Ghost spanks your arsecheeks before nodding at Price. "Jus' like we practiced, yeah?"
Yeah, just like you practiced. The plug you had to wear throughout the week whenever they both weren't tearing you in half should be more than enough prep. You hope.
Ghost taps the side of your thigh. "Cockwarm him while I get this perfect arse ready."
The stretch is intense as you lower yourself on Price— his cock thicker than Ghost's just not as long— it pushes the air out of your lungs. He bites his lip til it reddens, his eyes fixed onto where he disappears inside of you, fingers digging into the meat of your waist.
Your eyes flutter closed when he finally bottoms out, his girth splitting your swollen walls apart mercilessly.
God, he feels so good.
And then the sting of one thick, lubed finger pressing into your tight ring of muscle smothers some of that pleasure.
"Hey, hey. Look at me." Price tips your chin up with his hand, your eyes meeting his. "Good. Breathe for me, sweetheart." He leans forward to place open-mouthed prickly kisses on your neck. "Breathe, love. You've already taken us before. You did beautifully then, and you'll do beautifully now."
He distracts you from the discomfort by suckling on your skin, leaving red little love bites behind. Then, a second finger, so much bigger than your own. Price hisses sympathetically when you do— a tiny whimper coming from the back of your throat.
This time it's Ghost that breathes into your ear. "Doin' so good f'me."
Then he works a third finger in, and your back arches at the jolt of pain that licks up your spine.
Words of praise fall upon your ears, syrupy and saccharine, dulling the ache. He scissors and stretches gingerly, as he's always done. Ghost takes his time, curling his fingers inside— a slow and steady in and out that eventually has you clamping around Price.
He sucks in a breath through his teeth when you do. "So bloody tight."
"Alrigh' Price." Ghost takes you by the hips and cants them forward slightly, a cry falling from your lips at the change in angle. "Hold her open f'me."
He does just that; rough, worn hands spreading you open almost embarrassingly. There's a hot and heavy weight tapping your arse once, thrice— and then there's a blunt pressure pushing into your other much smaller hole. Your spine bows at the thick invasion, it burns, it throbs, but smart fingers find your neglected pearl and start to circle it.
The pain is merely physical, it can be overcome. Focus on the touch on your clit, focus on the hands that hold you, the heat that radiates from both of them. The harsh breathing of the man behind you as he fights to keep himself from fucking himself into you unfettered. Strained noises spilled from Price's parted lips as he felt your channel constrict, your sex beginning to get slick with your desire.
Ghost hilts, leaning forward until his barrel chest hits your back, a strangled groan coming from him. You felt unbearably full, about to tear at the bloody seams. Every single nerve from your navel down to the tips of your toes was on fire. You felt a throbbing sensation radiating from the back of your skull.
It was scalding hot, searing. The thin membrane that separated them felt stretched beyond its limit.
"Y'okay?" You can't even tell who asked you that past the rushing of blood that's in your ears. Your head feels too heavy on your shoulders, letting it lull forward until your forehead rests on Price's collarbone.
Ghost's chest vibrates as he speaks, the low rumble sinking into your skin, warming you from the inside. "Breathe for us, love. Deep in, slow out."
Right.
You remember what Price had said the very first time they fucked you. 'Breathing helps to process any pain and supports the nervous system.'
As you inhale deeply, your lungs expand to the point where you can feel a twinge of discomfort. But as you exhale, the tension in your body melts, your muscles gradually slackening.
Ghost undulates his hips once languidly, and while the ache flared back to life, below that was the pleasure you've become well acquainted with, desperately clawing its way to the surface.
A moan slips out of you unbidden.
"Perfect. So fuckin' perfect." Price's praise makes you dig your fingers into his broad shoulders, nails biting into his skin.
Then you're lifted by two sets of hands— one on your hips, the other on the underside of your thighs and brought back down. Fuck.
"Tha's it, love. Takin' us both so well," Ghost murmurs. When you begin to mewl, a clear sign of pleasure, Price plants his feet on the floor, and snaps his hips up. Black spots dot your vision, a euphoria shooting through your veins.
God, you hope your hips hold out.
They begin to move in tandem, one pushing in completely, while the other pulls out until just an inch stays inside.
It's sublime, obscene squelching coming from both your front and back. Once your body gives in to their assault, everything starts to blur at the edges, from your sight to your thoughts. You melt in their hands, softening under their touch as they take their pleasure from you.
They begin to fuck you in earnest, breath punched out of you with every thrust, and when Ghost takes control by grabbing a fistful of your hair, it sends waves of something through your stomach. The loud whine that comes from you is filthy.
"Always meltin' into a puddle over a firm hand, pet. Isn't tha' right?" He asks you as if you could even dream of answering. Your tongue is heavy in your dry mouth, and throat like sandpaper.
"Ready to make Price come? Choke his cock with tha' vice-like cunt, love. Wrench it outta him, take every drop of his cum, and then take mine."
Who are you to disobey such an edict?
The snarl Price lets out is animalistic when you squeeze him snugly, his thrusts turn jarring as he swells and stills— twitching inside of you, warmth pooling in your belly.
Only to realize that Ghost finished simultaneously.
There's a joke in there somewhere, about a couple finishing together, but you've been thoroughly fucked stupid.
Cut.
Simon takes you home— his home, and soaks you in a warm, bubble bath that smells like something he shouldn't have.
"I bough' it for you," he hums.
His callused palms knead into your sore calf muscles, hand making its way down to press into the arch of your foot.
"Don't go makin' those noises, love."
Eventually, you address the elephant in the room, and his answer makes your pulse race. "Gotta create a soft safe place f'you to land after somethin' tha' intense. Ya need to wind down, catch your breath."
He says it so casually as if it was common sense.
"Here. Drink your water." The bottle in your hands is room temperature, just how you like it.
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zwhoreo · 1 year
Note
can i request some slutty luffy? just fuck me up fam ☠️
AHH i think this is so beautiful and one of my fav smuts i’ve written!!! :’)
hunger - luffy x f!reader
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smut
summary: luffy gets incredibly horny, and he’s confusing lust with hunger
contains: mating press, praise, marking (reader receiving)
words: 2.4k
_______________________________
Luffy’s alone. He thinks, right now, of touch. And his body is sweaty from the day and from his yearning mind, he’s shirtless because an hour ago he lit on fire beneath his skin, he’s been simmering ever since, and it’s healed, somehow, by touch. So his fingers dig into the grooves of his abs, he likes to feel them flex and shift as he traces every corner, mouth open, drooling onto the glass of the porthole. He left his bed an hour ago when he lit on fire beneath his skin. His blanket became too hot, his mind too full to fall asleep. He’s thinking about food now, juicy fruits that drip down his throat, melted cheese, the greasy, fatty pieces of steak that slide so slowly along his tongue.
He rubs his stomach because he’s hungry, that’s it. There’s a burning within him, starvation but if it was beautiful. He needs food right now but he knows, somehow, that food won’t do anything for him, not really. And if he rubs his stomach because he’s hungry then why does his hand go lower, down beneath his waistline, tugging at the hair down there because, why? Why does this feel good? Why is he moaning, little whimpers that fog the glass, what does he need? He thinks of touch. Skin on skin. That’s it, skin on skin.
You’re probably alone. Moonbeams sail one by one from the east with the wind and blackening sky as the sunset turns lilac, fading, gold waves turning silver, copper. Translucent silk the color of the sunset hangs from your shoulders, a slip so loose it barely covers your chest. It isn’t cold tonight and you’re not tired. You saw dolphins this evening and you wonder if you can see them again before the water disappears in the night. Everyone else is already asleep. You hope that when you’re tired you can find Luffy, who’s probably asleep, and curl up with him as everything drifts away.
But as the ocean laps at the ship and you’re calmed by the gentle rocking you feel, suddenly, arms from behind. Arms that run over yours, hands massaging your wrists up to your shoulders. A distinct smell, the feeling of hot rubber, this is Luffy and he’s so, so warm. And his breathing is so heavy in your ear. He places his chin on your shoulder and it’s covered in drool, he begins to slowly lick your neck as he pulls you closer. You haven’t even said hi before he has you in his lap, squeezing your waist from behind. His licks turn to kisses, and then to bites, all over your upper back and then a wet, raw trail up to your jaw. He’s groaning with want, no words yet, he has too many things he wants to say.
“Hi Luffy,” you murmur with a little smile, reaching back to pet his face which is burning up and flushed. His tongue laps your cheek, he’s an excited puppy, you feel his teeth now so you ask gently, “what’s up?”
“Gonna eat you,” he says in a quiet, gravely voice, right into your ear. He whines after this in desire, in hunger, he’s lustful and desperate.
“Yeah?” You lean back against him. His arms are so tight, he’s trying to wrap you up and crush you like a python. And you can feel his heartbeat race in every muscle.
“Mh, ‘cause you’re real pretty. And I’m hungry so I’m gonna eat you.” He’s almost trying to take a bite out of your neck now, his teeth are sharp but his tongue is soothing, he moans because he likes the flavor. “Real pretty…” he hisses again beneath his breath.
You turn so you’re facing him. He needs a kiss right now and he doesn’t hesitate to grab your face and dive in, writhing tongue slipping greedily between your lips. And there’s a gentleness here too, his hand moves to the back of your head, stroking your hair adoringly. He isn’t going to hurt you he just needs you so, so bad and he doesn’t really know how or why or what he should say.
“God, Luffy.” You’re quiet, muffled by his mouth. And just hearing your voice again clouds his mind.
“Love ya, love ya so much,” he says in between moans and kisses. His nails scrape at your chest, delighted by softness, something to grab onto, more to squeeze. “I wanna play, please can we play?”
Trying to get on top of you he’s leaning over you and pulled by instinct, he wants you straddling him but he wants to be on top at the same time. He’s just a tangle of limbs right now, saliva dripping messily onto your neck.
“Of course I’ll play with you.” You’re blushing, eyes closing but he’s squeezing your cheeks and forcing you to look at him, huge sparkling eyes as deep as the Mariana look down on you.
Luffy begins to laugh. Just a breathy giggle at first, blowing air between his teeth in a little joyful hiss. And then his mouth opens, he laughs more, louder, that’s what he does when he’s excited and when he knows he’s about to get something that he wants so, so bad. And then it fades to giggles again, and he stills for a moment, no movement except his chest. Rise and fall, rise and fall. He’s just looking at you.
And then he licks his lips. He dives in.
You make a small sound, surprised and unable to react in time, as Luffy plants his feet firmly on the deck, your thighs slamming his stomach as your legs are thrown over his shoulders. And you’re bent, folding tighter and tighter as Luffy crouches over you. His arms encircle your legs and your back and your waist and constrict again, his legs are spread and ready, twitching, hips pressing yours. He’s forgetting, probably, that you aren’t as flexible as he is.
“This is good, Lu, this right here,” you manage to choke out because you often have to remind him what your body can and can’t take.
He mumbles a little apology and does a once over with his eyes, he wants to make sure that you aren’t hurt but, at the same time, he’s letting his gaze linger on your body, on the silk slip that’s fallen as your waist curls upwards and your breasts are bare now, so delicious, he’s drooling again. You’re tasty, you’re his.
This must take so much strength, the way he’s perched on his toes over your body, his thigh muscles clench and ripple against yours. Shared sweat, shared warmth. His balance is perfect even as he reaches for your chest, rubbing, holding, kissing, now he’s kissing your lips, now your neck. He doesn’t want this ever to be over.
And he says, “I love ya so much.” That’s the third time he’s said it.
“I love you too,” you say with such joy even as you’re breathless still, but before you can finish he’s pressing his mouth to yours hungrily. You said you loved him and he wants to taste it — the flavor of those words — it’s all-consuming.
“Tastes so good, mmh,” Luffy gasps as he takes you into this hot, wet kiss, “can’t wait, wanna play now.”
You’re not sure how he did it from this position, but his pants are off, kicked to the side. His cock is aching and leaking already and smoldering against your stomach, you can see it from here, throbbing and waiting, skin so smooth and thin and perfect like auburn moth wings over red-hot iron.
His chest crashes against yours in a tidal wave now because this new vulnerability makes him want to be closer. Now you can’t see it anymore but god, it’s so hard it feels like he’s denting you, so long and thick like a python, he’s still holding you, and squeezing more and more. Like a python.
With so much pressure he wraps his hands around lower, lower, snapping your panties, thrusting against your stomach in a way that shakes your body but he’s got you. You’re in his arms.
Begging eyes so close to yours, mouth on your lips and cheek, breathing so fast and so warm and he whispers, “can I?” And it’s so scratchy and kind and needy so deep in his throat.
So you pull his hair, you kiss him, yes.
Rolling back on his heels he finds his way, sloppy thrusts that don’t quite make it but god when they do, he isn’t going all the way even though his every nerve craves you but you’re his baby and he can’t hurt you.
Thick tip so soft and gentle, butterfly wings and flowers, impossibly hard and aching in heartbeat rhythms against your clit, moving you with every pulse, searching and desperate like a moth to a flame he finds you.
Shivers that make you clench your legs against his shoulders as he rubs and rubs back and forth and hugs your body and bites your cheek and murmurs, “that feel good? Ya like that?” with such curiosity like he really wants to know, he wants an answer.
“Perfect, so perfect. Please, I need you.” Words in his ear like shooting stars lighting up his body like the darkening sky. He’s made of ochre sunbeams.
He smiles and laughs and with another quick kiss he’s finding you more. Muscles flex and as he leans forward onto you he’s there, right there. He starts to moan loudly and whisper about how happy he is but it’s Luffy so it’s not a whisper, really. He’s not even inside you yet. He’s just so, so excited.
“Feels so good, so good. C’mere,” he giggles against you happily and makes sure he holds you as he’s pushing into your body, you’re filled in an instant and more and more every second.
Amid the panting and moaning you can almost hear that heartbeat and those pulsing veins buried in you. You’re dented again but from the inside now. With a little mh, Luffy finds his home so, so deep. You’re in a cocoon of warmth, wrapped in the sun, filled by the sun, melting.
“My girl’s so pretty, gotta bite, gonna bite.” Those teeth again and their practiced, hungry chewing. He swallows on instinct, abs vibrating and tightening against your skin as his stomach purs. And he’s rocking into you, back and forth on his toes, enjoying that deep, tight massage. He’s inside you, he’s trying to eat you, trying to get you inside him, too.
You’re going to be covered in marks but that’s ok. You like hearing him groan and laugh against you, and something about that swallowing, his throat flexing against your shoulder, that’s so beautiful to feel.
“Mine, ‘kay? Mine.” Luffy’s talking the whole time through his laughter and you’re swept away by him as he continues to crush your body from the inside over and over, tidal waves on a cliff’s edge, he makes whirlpools in you.
“This is so fun, you’re so fun, so pretty,” he keeps huffing and you hear this over and over as he squirms and wriggles on your body, thrusts shallower because he can’t bear to pull out of you any more than he needs to. Luffy wants to be close and never leave.
He tries to have conversations with you that just spill into unending praise. You’re too dizzy and lost in this world of feeling to respond most of the time but you kiss him whenever he wants, you tell him he’s beautiful and that he feels so good whenever your voice is there.
He’s swelling in you, veins bulging and rubbing so far up inside you that you feel him throbbing in your stomach, his twitching cock encouraged by your clenching, leaking, every muscle wracked with craving and overstimulation.
“Gonna fill you up ‘cause you’re real pretty,” he laughs against your lips, twisting into you deeper still, “gotta make ya all mine.” He still sounds so sweet and so soft, just a playful little puppy.
Even as he groans and begins to pump you full.
Love feels like this, love is raw and endless like this, love makes you float away. You close your eyes and now he lets you, you just hold him, you let the rhythm carry you and it feels like so long until he’s done. He doesn’t want to pull away but his legs give out. His knees finally hit the deck, he squeals in delight as he’s pulled from you with a wet little sound. But he’s still hugging you, of course.
“Heh, felt so good.” Luffy’s smiling with all his teeth, his chin sparkles with saliva, and your neck is dripping too, “thanks, darlin’. Love ya so much”
“Love you too. I love you, Luffy.” You don’t want to ever leave from his arms and you feel so empty now. But you’re soaked in him, neck and thighs both shining.
His hand rests gently on your back, helping you sit up, your slip falls back down over your body and it’s all wrinkled now. Luffy smooths your hair, he pets you, now is when he just wants to stare at you and not say a word. But when he sees the blooming red and purple trailing from your ear to your collarbone he starts to shake a little bit.
“Aw, this ain’t hurtin’ right?” he murmurs, tracing the bruises and teeth marks with his fingers so softly, carefully. There’s no blood, it’s just glossy with layers of drool, he’s proud but he needs to check on you first.
“No, it’s not bad. Don’t worry, I like it.” You kiss him right next to his mouth but he turns, quickly, because he wants your lips. “Whole crew’s gonna know I’m yours, that’s all.”
This makes him smile. He sees no reason for embarrassment or shame, you’re his so he can bite you when he wants. You feel his muscles twitch against you again as he laughs. And he’s flushed all red, hibiscus on his warm honey skin. Those eyes, dark brown eyes melting with that lavender of the sunset which is almost gone now, fading silently. So orchid blue then, on loving, deep Bulgarian rose.
“Good! I want ‘em to.” he rubs his head against your cheek, still biting just a little. And now he’s moving like he wants to pick you up and carry you, even though you’re both tired. But it’s because he’s hungry, and in that throaty little voice he asks, “wanna go get snacks?”
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scoutswritingcorner · 7 months
Note
hi... may i introduce to you the concept of winged!reader spreading their wings once hitting orgasm while having sex with alastor and alastor just wants to fuck winged!reader all over again
- 🪽
Levitating
Alastor x GN! Reader
TW:Gender neutral Afab Reader. 18+ This is not intended for minors. This is straight up the devils tango with our favorite deer man. Biting, Blood.
A/N: I GOT YOU WING ANON- I GOT YOU! Also I’m like super sorry if this is bad- I haven’t written smut for a male character and I’m hoping I’m doing your request justice.
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The night went off without a hitch, your husband taking you out to the fanciest restaurant in all of hell. The dinner was amazing and you would be lying if you said hadn't been a little intoxicated from the wine he had treated you both too. But nothing too much to make you unable to walk back to the hotel with your darling husband. But now? You were very much intoxicated off of him and him alone. He was as much your world as you were his. 
His hands resting on your hips guiding you to rut against the strained tent in his pants, causing you to gasp out in surprise as his teeth dug into your shoulder as you slowly stripped for him. Your wings expanding- fluttering at the feeling of his sharp teeth sinking into your flesh, his tongue pressing against where he bit down lapping up the blood. His half lidded eyes glancing up at you before he moved to kiss up your neck, hands moving to rub at the point where your wings met your back causing you to let out a loud whine. Your hands are moving to rub at his chest, fiddling with the top button of his shirt. “You taste divine, Darling” He purred out as his claws ripped your clothes off easily. 
“Al-” You whispered as he waved a hand to ease your worries, “I’ll buy you some more, Cher~” You huffed and whined kissing his jaw as he moved to kiss down your chest. Fingers intertwining in his hair as he nipped and occasionally bit down leaving a trail of bloody bites and kisses. His hands wrapping around the back of your thighs giving them a gentle squeeze as his sharp claws started to leave behind thin trails of blood from where they dug into you. “Can I unbutton your shirt?” You whispered as he nodded and let out a low grunt. In a swift motion you easily unbuttoned his shirt allowing it to hang open as he removed his hands from your thighs.
~~~
Soft grunts and moans echoed throughout your bedroom as Alastor helped you bounce against his lap, face flushed as you clung to the chair that he was sitting in. His name was spilling out of your mouth like a prayer between moans and whimpers. Your hands shakily cupping his face as you pulled him into a kiss, a smirk gracing his lips before he bit down on your lip easily drawing blood. “Gonna break this fucking armchair.” You whined out causing him to let out a low chuckle moving you faster against him.
Your moans become louder by the second, knuckles turning white from how hard you were gripping the armchair. Alastor grunted as he threw his head back, chest heaving with every breath he took as he dug his clawed fingers into your hips. Slowly opening his eyes as you arched your back wings fluttering behind you. Reaching behind his head to hold onto the back of the armchair being extra careful not to hit his ears as you kissed his cheek, whimpering for him as he started to pound up into your cunt. Your walls eagerly squeezed his cock as you tried to milk him for all he had. Leaning into his body, hiding your face into his shoulder begging him for more. 
Oh how could he deny his favorite songbird especially when they were singing his name like this? Panting, he let out a low growl as he bared his teeth in a wild smile his tail wagging, “Oh fuck Al-” you grunted out wings starting to twitch in anticipation as he pushed all the way into your cunt, leaving you stuffed full with his cum as your wings suddenly expanded as you released around him. A loud moan of his name escaped your lips as a few stray feathers fell onto the armchair around you both, shielding the display of you both. 
You kept your hands resting on the armchair as you panted heavily. Unaware of how your husband stared at you, oh that was new for him to see. He liked it and he wanted to see it more. You were going to have a long night ahead of you.
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wysteria-bloom · 4 months
Text
↪" you amaze me "
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Bg3 x reader
Giving them a surprise kiss
Warnings : suggestive on Halsin's part... Spoilers for bg3 (duh).
Genre : fluff
A/n : I have 367 hours in this game so I believe that I am worthy enough to write for these characters I love so very much. I am extremely open to requests for bg3 please send me all the stuff you want to see! I'm not gonna include minsc and jaehira for obvious reasons.
Characters : halsin, astarion, wyll, gale, gortash, rolan, raphael
▢ astarion
Leans into the kiss almost immediately. Its usually how he responds to any affection coming from you. Rests a gentle hand on your arm as he deepens the kiss with a pleased little smile on his lips.
When you break from the kiss, still has the smile on his lips, his eyes looking down at you softly, " can't get enough of me, darling?" He cooed out teasingly, a giddiness to him that wasn't there a few minutes ago.
You nip his jaw," stop getting cocky. I caught you off-gaurd, admit it."
He gasped in offence," and here I thought my beautiful partner was merely expressing how much they loved me." Shaking his head at you with an exagerrated pout," shame on you."
"... That's a 'yes'." You smirked.
"Oh shut up," pulls you into another kiss full of laughter.
▢ gale
Blinks for a good 5 seconds before finally responding to the kiss in full, hand curling through your hair to cup the back of your head. A wistful sigh blows through his nose as he leans into the kiss more.
When you pull away, he still holds your head. You smile happily at him," Hello, love." You greet cutely.
Sends you a bashful little smile, pressing his forehead to yours," Well... hello to you too."
"Were you surprised?"
"Oh-hoh?" He grinned with amusement," there was a goal behind all this?"
You tilt your head from side to side," eh... I did have one. But I also just wanted to kiss my handsome husband."
Clears his throat, cheeks warming," Oh, well consider me th..thoroughly surprised, then."
▢ wyll
It only takes him a second to respond to your kiss, cupping both sides of your face so gently and rubbing a thumb across your jawline. A small happy hum falls from his lips as he's kissing you.
When pulling away, his lips chase after yours, giving you a final little peck," You amaze me. Everytime." He breathed out, always has something cheesy to say after every kiss but it never fails to make your heart stutter.
You huff," You're impossible to surprise, yknow? You're too smooth."
He laughs," will it make you feel better if I said you gave me butterflies?"
A hum and then a smile you nodded to him," I believe that's substantial. However, you need to pay for your indiscretions with a kiss."
"Whatever will I do?" Wyll leans down, nose pressing against yours," I have no choice but to give in, hm?"
"No choice." You agreed, hands moving to his waist as he cups your face.
He presses his lips to yours excitedly.
▢ gortash
He's doing some paperwork when you give him a little kiss on the cheek. Not reacting at first, he finished his signature before looking up at you, a softness to his eyes," Can I help you?"
You merely give him an innocent smile," just reminding you that I love you."
He blinks for a moment before he hums, a slow grin reaching his lips," I see.." He places a hand to your hip, rubbing it slowly with a thumb," Well, I fear I need another reminder then, my dear."
"Greedy," You cooed out before pressing a proper kiss to his lips.
▢ raphael
Is certainly shocked for a split second. He was only telling you about a recent poem he had read and enjoyed.
He cups the back of your neck with his clawed hand, deepening the kiss with huff of amusement. Before breaking the kiss he nips at your bottom lip with his sharp teeth," It's rude to interrupt."
You hum, pressing another kiss to his jaw," You're too endearing when you talk about your poems." You reply honestly.
"Oh good, I was afraid I was boring you." No, he wasn't. He knew how engaged you got in his little speils. That was endearing.
"You could never." He drags you into another kiss with a lot more flames stoked beneath it.
▢ halsin
A low hum of surprise and then a slow smile reaches his lips. His large hands rest on your waist as he deepens this kiss, feeling heat build between the two of you the more passionate it grows.
When you pull away from eachother there's a trail of saliva left between your lips. His eyes are a lot darker now, a yellow shine to them," is there something you need, my heart?" He questioned with that low tone of his.
"Just you."
Pins you to a nearby tree and kisses your neck," that I'll give you in abundance."
▢ rolan
Was in the middle of complaining to you about how you put a book in the wrong place. He had that cute little frown on his face, the grouchy furrow to his brows and the agitated swish of his tail.
You just couldn't help yourself. Leaning forwards, you caught his lips with yours, making him shut up completely. He stared down at you with wide eyes before he moans a little and leans into the kiss.
His tail curls around your leg, dragging you closer to him as he leaned back against the bookcase behind him.
When you pulled away for a breath, he still had his eyes closed for a good five seconds.
Looks into your eyes for a moment before he cups your jaw," you can't kiss your way through an argument." He huffs out.
"I just did."
"Did you? What if I'm still mad at you?"
You grinned at him," Your tail says otherwise, love."
He scoffed and tried to frown but his lips kept twitching," You're impossible." Pulls you into a more heated kiss, arms wrapping around you protectively.
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marksbear2 · 3 months
Note
Soft dom Hannibal Lecter and crybaby mreader where he teach reader how to ride him 🙂‍↕️🏃‍♂️‍➡️🏃‍♂️‍➡️
HANNIBAL LECTER X CRYBABY MARE READER
⚠️Warnings- Soft dom Hannibal, talking through it, teaching, guiding, crying- and crying kink, shy reader. Naive/ Virgin reader. And etc ⚠️
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Soft but muffled moaning and choked sobs could be heard inside of Doctor’s Lecter office. You were whimpering softly as Hannibal stared at he looking down at you in between his legs with your face all puffy and wet from crying as you had your lips wrapped around Hannibal’s cock.
Hannibal had his hand laying gently on your head but had a firm grip. You eyes still had tears falling from it from earlier.
You were crying and whining earlier as he was fingering you and stretching you out prepping for his cock.
Once he had decided that you were prepped enough he told you. “Isn’t it only fair that you give me something back?” 
That’s how you both ended it up now. Hannibal staring down at you while you trying the best of your ability to give him a blowjob.
You squirmed under his eyes, but tried to ignore his gaze. “Your teeth is grazing me. Relax. Stop thinking so hard.” Hannibal said as he used his free hand to pull you off his cock before moving his thumb inside your mouth pressing it against your tongue.
Hannibal stared down into your mouth for a few more seconds before pulling his hand away and grabbing your jaw guiding your mouth down on his cock. 
“Teeth, watch your teeth.” Hannibal said in a soft but firm tone. You slowly do as you said as you moved your tongue around his cock. 
Hannibal hands stayed where they were guiding you up and down on his cock. 
Your face was flustered as tears still went down as Hannibal cupping your cheeks, he could feel his own cock moving and moving the side of your cheeks with his cock making your mouth full.
With his large hands guiding your head, you let him do all the work while you just moved your tongue around.
Hannibal gently pushed your head away from his cock and adjust the way he’s sitting in the chair tapping his knee. You quickly scramble into his lap and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Hannibal puts his firm large hand on your hips holding you still as he used his free hand for hold and angle his large wet cock to your hole.
You were somewhat unaware, as he distracted you with comforting praises and words of affection.
“Take a deep breath for me darling.” Hannibal said, you do as he says before letting out a sharp gasp as you felt his cock slowly enter your walls.
“You can take it can’t you? Don’t want to disappoint me now would we?” Hannibal mused watching your face show many expression with uncertainty, uncomfortable and most of all pleasure. “We’re doing something more your pace.” Hannibal said as he raised you up and down on his cock.
“Shh, shh, your doing such an amazing job taking me.” Hannibal whispered against your ear as he began to move your body up down like an toy.
As you cried and whimpered softly Hannibal pressed his mouth against your ear soothing you with an hum.
His cock moving deeper and deeper inside of you as his large hands held you in a firm but gentle grip.
“Such a precious little thing…” 
”I would hate to ruin you…”
THE END
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hyper-fixates · 2 months
Text
and what if i said logan could get off from biting and marking you up ☹️ then what ☹️
just a silly little one-shot. this can be read for any logan/era :)
tags: afab!reader (no pronouns/gendered language), biting/marking, clothed male/naked reader, explicit language, sloppy kisses!!! scent kink, dry humping, groping/touching (let me know if anything was missed!).
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Logan loves to smother you.
His earnestness and desire to swallow you whole doesn’t get more apparent besides when he’s on top of you, grinding against your bare cunt despite his cock straining against his jeans. And he’ll leave it that way, at least for tonight.
He sucks harmless kisses against your neck and jaw as if your skin will disappear any second, afraid to lose the sex-filled scent that’s keeping him glued on top you. You squirm relentlessly from the sensitivity and intensity of it all, but it just makes him more determined to overwhelm you and feel how much wetter you’re getting against him.
He licks over the taught tendons in your neck before biting an angry mark into the supple skin adjacent, making you claw harder at his shoulders (the grey wife-pleaser already making it easy).
Each lick, kiss, and mark earns you a swift thrust against your exposed pussy, the rough denim brushing against your sore clit that’s already been teased and tortured by his experienced fingers. You weren’t the first and you won’t be the last.
His scruff pricks the sensitive skin over your neck and shoulders as he ventures along your body eagerly, hands kneading your hips in sharp, desperate squeezes to anchor himself and rut his cock harder over you.
He’ll offer the deepest kisses to your lips when he hears you getting louder, timing his thrusts to rock against you when he reclaims your lips each time, making sure your pleading sounds are silenced.
The soft scrape of teeth against your bottom lip has your pussy clenching around nothing as he tugs just far enough away to open your mouth and seamlessly slip his tongue down over yours, locking your lips back together in a kiss that makes you both dizzy. A soft groan catches in his throat.
He moves back down your jaw, nuzzling the curve while placing wet kisses over your pulse, enjoying how fast it’s gotten from a couple bites and slick kisses.
“I could get off just by doing this,” he sighs, slotting your lips together again in a messy, tongue-filled kiss. “You smell and taste too fucking good to stop,” he whispers against your lips. “Every fucking time.”
“I don’t want you to stop,” you reason, sliding your hands up into his hair. The perfect cat-like points breaking apart as you gently pull at the roots.
He drops his head back to your shoulder, consumed by bliss, sinking his teeth into the skin right between your neck and collarbone. A tremor works its way through you as you feel a new wave of heat roll through your cunt while he sucks deeper and deeper at the spot with a groan.
“God, Logan, please don’t break the skin,” you pant as your thighs clench around his hips, pulling him closer. “It will take at least two weeks to heal.”
You feel him chuckle against you before he pulls off with a lewd sound, panting just as heavy as you. Your neck, shoulders, and chest are raw with hickeys and teeth marks; the skin tender to the touch and red-hot when he finally pulls away for more than a few seconds.
“I remember it being ten days,” he smirks, offering a final gentle kiss to your puffy lips, accepting the white flag you’re waving.
You’ve been marked. Claimed.
You give your eyes a roll. “Satisfied?” you hold back a smile.
He pushes his hips up into yours again, cock still very much hard and now newly soaked through his jeans from your arousal. “Oh, I think you know the answer to that one, sweetheart,” he says with a small, breathy laugh.
A hand releases it’s death-grip on your right thigh, trailing up your chest to lock itself tight under your jaw, holding you there for him as he consumes you with rough kisses that have your core aching. All tongue and teeth and he just keeps you there. All for him to devour.
Maybe this is the one part of himself that he’ll never be able to domesticate.
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ponderingmoonlight · 23 days
Note
HEYYYY so i dont really know if u write this stuff but i was wondering if u could do like toji/jjk men and their reaction when the reader goes into labour?? ❤️❤️
JJK men when you go into labor
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Pairings: Toji x fem!reader; Geto x fem!reader; Gojo x fem!reader; Sukuna x fem!reader
Word Count: 3,3k
Warnings: yk...birth, this is basically the same scenario for 3k words straight lol, never gave birth myself so idk if this is accurate 🥹
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Toji Fushiguro
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The day started like any other. Well, as normal as it can be when you’re nine months pregnant.
You are in the kitchen, trying to decide between a cup of tea or a snack, when a sharp, unmistakable pain shoots through your abdomen. You gasp, clutching the edge of the counter for support as the realization hits you with full force:
This is it. The baby is coming.
“Toji!” you call out, your voice trembling as another wave of pain rolls through you.
You hear the rustle of a newspaper being set down and the heavy footsteps of your husband approaching from the living room.
“Toji…” you try to keep calm, but the panic in your voice is unmistakable.
The man is a fortress, rarely showing any emotion beyond his usual stoic demeanor, but when he sees your expression, something shifts in his eyes. The usually cool, collected Toji Fushiguro is now all business.
Without a word, he’s right by your side, one strong arm wrapping around your waist to support you. His other hand comes up to gently tilt your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.
“How long have you been feeling this?” he questions, his voice steady, though you can hear the underlying tension.
“Just started,” you manage to reply through gritted teeth.
Another contraction hits, and you instinctively grip his arm, digging your nails into his skin for support.
Toji doesn’t even flinch. Instead, he simply nods, assessing the situation with the same precision he would use in a fight.
“Alright. We’re going to the hospital now. I’ll get the bag.”
He guides you to the couch, making sure you are seated comfortably before he disappears down the hall. You can hear the faint sound of drawers being opened and closed, and within moments, he’s back with the hospital bag slung over his shoulder.
Toji lifts you into his arms effortlessly, cradling you against his chest as he carries you to the car. His movements are quick but careful. And even though he’d never admit it, you can feel the tension in his body, a rare vulnerability in a man who’s usually so unshakable.
As he settles you into the passenger seat, he leans down, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.
“You’re strong. You can handle this, babe” he mutters, his voice firm but with an edge of softness that he rarely shows.
The drive to the hospital is swift as usual, Toji weaving through traffic with the same precision he uses in combat. But his now soft hand never leaves yours, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your skin as if trying to soothe both your pain and his own worry.
“You’re doing great,” he murmurs, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.
His jaw is set, the muscles on his neck visible tense. And yet his voice is calm, grounding you during your fear and pain.
When you finally arrive at the hospital, Toji is all efficiency. He barks orders at the staff, making sure everything is ready for your arrival with all their attention on you. Despite the situation, his grip on your hand is firm, his presence unwavering while he stays by your side through every step.
In the delivery room, as the pain intensifies, you squeeze his hand to death, your nails biting into his now injured skin. Toji doesn’t do so much as flinch, his focus entirely on you.
“Breathe,” he reminds you whenever you need to hear it, his voice steady and commanding.
You manage to look up at him between contractions. And for a brief moment, you see something in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before.
Fear.
It’s fleeting, quickly replaced by his usual determination, but it was there, a reminder that beneath his tough exterior and his sometimes sharp tone towards you, Toji cares more than he’ll ever admit.
As the contractions grow stronger, Toji’s calm exterior begins to crack. He isn’t panicking, but you can see the worry etched into his features, the way his grip tightened just slightly every time you cry out in pain.
“You’re almost there,” he murmurs, his voice gruff but soothing.
“Just a little longer.”
When the final push comes and the cries of your newborn fill the room, you see Toji’s shoulders relax ever so slightly through wet lashes. When he looks down at you, a small and rare smile tugs on the corner of his usual so neutral lips. Those lips you’ll never get tired of kissing. Those lips who can be used as a weapon, those lips that do in fact hurt you from time to time. You know this relationship can be toxic, that Toji Fushiguro isn’t the definition of a dream husband.
But at this very moment, with glistening eyes set on you and that smile forming on his face, you can think of nothing else.
“You did it,” he whispers, his voice low and filled with something that almost sounds like awe.
When the nurse places the baby in your arms, Toji’s hand comes to rest on your shoulder, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.
“You’re amazing,” he whispers, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.
“Get some rest, babe.”
In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of your new family and with your eyelids slowly but surely growing heavy, you see a side of Toji that he rarely let anyone see: a man who is strong but also deeply, fiercely protective of the people he loves.
Especially you.
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Suguru Geto
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The afternoon sunlight filters through the curtains when you sit on the couch, folding the last of the baby clothes that Suguru insisted on organizing earlier that morning. You smile to yourself, thinking about how fussy he was, making sure everything was in its place for the baby’s arrival.
You feel a twinge in your lower abdomen, brushing it off as one of the many discomforts that accompanied the last few weeks of pregnancy. But the pain returns just a few seconds later, sharper this time. Your face turns pale when realization hits you with full force.
This isn’t just another cramp. Those are contractions.
“Suguru…” you call out, trying to keep your voice steady as another wave of pain washes over you.
Panic starts to creep in, even though you try to push it down. You need to stay calm, need to make your way to the hospital to finally deliver that baby.
Suguru appears in the doorway almost instantly, his usually serene expression replaced with pure concern as he crosses the room to your side.
“What is it? Are you alright?” he asks with gentle and yet tensioned voice.
“I think it’s time,” you whisper, clutching your belly when another contraction hit, more intense than the last.
“I think… I’m in labor.”
Labor.
For a moment, Suguru’s eyes widen, a rare flash of panic crossing his features. But as quickly as it came, it vanishes into his usual calm composure.
He kneels beside you, taking your hand in his, his thumb brushing soothing circles against your skin.
“Alright,” he replies softly, his voice like a balm to your frayed nerves.
“We’ll get through this. Let me get everything ready.”
Suguru stands and moves with a quiet efficiency, grabbing the hospital bag and making sure you have everything you need. You watch him, your heart swelling with love and gratitude for this man who, despite the panic of the situation, is doing everything he can to keep you calm.
Until another contraction hits you like a truck.
He’s back at your side in no time, helping you to your feet with a gentle touch.
“Lean on me,” he instructs softly, wrapping an arm around your waist to support you while you make your way to the car.
The drive to the hospital is surreal. Suguru’s hand never leaves yours, his presence a constant source of comfort. He speaks softly to you the entire time, his voice a steady rhythm that you can focus on, grounding you through coming and going contractions.
“You’re doing amazing,” he repeats over and over, his tone filled with quiet admiration.
You try to focus on his words, his calm demeanor helping to ease some of your anxiety. Suguru is always the calm in your storm, the one who can bring you back to center no matter how chaotic things are. And now, when the reality of labor starts to set in, you are more grateful than ever for his steady presence.
When you arrived at the hospital, Suguru springs into action immediately, helping you out of the car and into a wheelchair with the same gentle care he always shows. He stays close as the nurses wheel you into the delivery room, his hand never leaving yours.
As the contractions grow stronger, you find yourself gripping his hand tighter, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. Suguru is right there with you, his voice a constant source of comfort.
“Breathe, love,” he whispers, his tone soothing.
“You’re doing so well.”
Despite the pain you find yourself focusing on his voice, letting it guide you through each contraction. Suguru’s presence is like a lifeline, grounding you in the midst of the pain and chaos. He always remains close, his forehead resting gently against yours as he whispers words of encouragement in your ear.
“You’re almost there,” he murmurs softly.
“Just a little more, and we’ll meet our baby.”
As the final push comes, you could feel Suguru’s grip on your hand tighten, his breath catching in his throat while watching you bring your child into the world. Within the next second, the sound of your baby’s first cry fills the room, and the first thing you see are tears glistening in Suguru’s eyes.
“You did it,” he breathes out, his voice thick with emotion as he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.
“You’re incredible.”
The nurse places your baby in your arms and Suguru’s hand comes to rest gently on the tiny head, his expression softening as he looks down at your child.
“Welcome to the world,” he whispers, his voice filled with so much love for that little creature that makes your heart swell.
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Satoru Gojo
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You are lounging on the couch, trying to find a comfortable position, which honestly seems impossible at this stage of pregnancy. Satoru is in the kitchen, probably making another one of his infamous midnight snacks. The two of you spent the day preparing for the baby’s arrival, but you didn’t expect it to happen so soon.
Out of nowhere, a sharp pain shoots through your abdomen, stealing your breath. You hold onto your belly, realization dawning on you as the pain increases more and more.
“Satoru!” you call out, your voice laced with urgency.
Almost instantly, Satoru appears in the doorway, a sandwich in one hand and a look of confusion on his face.
“What’s up?” he asks casually.
But when he sees the expression on your face, his carefree demeanor falters in an instant.
“Hey, are you okay?”
“I think… I think it’s time,” you manage to press out, your voice trembling as another contraction hits.
You see the color drain from his face for a split second before his usual grin appears bac on his face.
“Oh, it’s go time!” he exclaims, dropping the sandwich onto the counter and rushing over to you.
“Alright, don’t worry, babe. I’ve got this. I’ll just finish that sandwich later,”
You can’t help but laugh despite the pain.
“You…You really think about that sandwich now?”
 He helps you to your feet, his hands warm and steady as he guides you toward the door.
“Sure babe. Just breathe, okay? I’ll have you at the hospital in no time.”
He scoops you up with ease, carrying you to the car like you weigh nothing. As he settles you into the passenger seat, he is all smiles, though you could see the flicker of nervousness in his eyes.
“You ready for this?” he questions, his voice filled with excitement.
The drive to the hospital is a blur of lights and Satoru’s voice, a constant stream of chatter meant to distract you from the pain and Backstreet Boys crying out of the radio. He weaves through traffic with an ease that only he can manage, glancing over at you every few seconds while humming.
“You’re doing amazing, babe. Just keep breathing.”
You squeeze his hand tightly, trying to focus on his voice as another contraction hits. Satoru’s grip tightens in response, and you can see the concern creeping into his usually carefree expression.
But he still keeps talking, trying to keep you calm with jokes, stories and boy bands, anything to make you smile.
When you finally arrive at the hospital, Satoru is out of the car in a flash, helping you out and into a wheelchair with a surprising amount of gentleness. He holds your hand tightly as the nurses wheel you inside.
In the delivery room, Satoru stays by your side, his usual humor tempered by a seriousness you rarely saw.
“You’ve got this,” he whispers, brushing a strand of hair from your face while you brace for another contraction.
“You’re the strongest person I know.”
Despite the pain, you manage a small smile. You, the strongest?
“No, you’re the strongest”, you press out.
He simply beams down at you while shrugging in a playful way. Satoru might joke around a lot, but in moments like this, you know you can count on him to be there for you.
As the labor progresses, you find yourself leaning on him more and more, his voice the only thing grounding you through the pain. Satoru’s grip on your hand never wavers, even when you squeeze it hard enough to leave marks.
“Just a little more, babe,” he purrs, his forehead pressed against yours as he helps you through the final push.
“You’re almost there.”
When your baby’s cries finally fill the room, you see the tension leave Satoru’s body all at once. He looks down at you, a wide grin spreading across his face, his eyes shining with tears he will never admit to.
“We did it,” he whispers, his voice choked with emotion.
As the nurse placed your baby in your arms, Satoru’s hand comes to rest gently on the tiny head, his expression one of pure awe.
“Hey there, little one,” he hushes softly.
You looked up at him, tears in your own eyes when you see the way he looks at your child:
With all the love and devotion he usually tries to hide behind jokes and smiles.
In that moment, you know that Satoru will be the best father, just as he’s the best partner.
“Now…are you in the mood for a sandwich?”
“Babies aren’t allowed to eat sandwiches, idiot.”
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Ryomen Sukuna
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You are lying in bed like you did those pasts days, trying to ignore the discomfort nagged at you all day. Ryomen Sukuna sits across the room, his crimson eyes watching you with a mixture of boredom and curiosity.
He was never one to show much concern, but you noticed the way his gaze had lingered on you more often as your due date approached.
Then, without warning, a sharp, intense pain shoots through your abdomen, making you gasp. You clutch at your belly, the realization hitting you hard.
“Sukuna…” you manage to whisper, your voice strained.
He’s by your side in an instant, faster than you ever saw him move.
“What is it?” he questions, his voice low and dangerous, as if he’s ready to eliminate whatever was causing you pain.
“I think… I think it’s happening,” you press out, trying to keep your voice steady as another contraction hits.
“The baby is coming.”
For a moment, Sukuna’s eyes narrow, his usual arrogance replaced by something you can’t quite place.
“So, it begins,” he mutters more to himself than to you.
Without another word, he lifts you into his arms, his grip firm but surprisingly gentle.
“You’re not going to die from this, are you?” he comments, a hint of irritation in his voice, though you know him well enough to recognize the concern beneath it.
You manage a weak smile.
“No, I’m not going to die.”
“Good,” he mutters, his tone gruff as he carries you out of the room.
“I won’t tolerate weakness from the woman birthing my child.”
Despite his harsh words, you can feel the tension in his body radiating from his firm muscles, the way his grip tightens ever so slightly when you wince in pain. Sukuna was always a creature of power and control, and the fact that he can’t do anything to stop your pain seems to frustrate him.
How ironic.
He carries you outside, where a car waits - something he arranged without you even realizing it. Sukuna isn’t usually one to rely on human conveniences, but for you, he obviously made an exception.
“A car?”
“Shut up, brat. Teleporting us into the hospital might be too dangerous. I…I don’t know much about a pregnancy…”
“I can tell that.”
The drive to the hospital is silent, save for the sound of your labored breathing and the occasional growl from Sukuna when you tense in pain. He sits beside you, his eyes never leaving your face, watching you with an intensity that borders on obsessive.
When you finally arrived at the hospital, Sukuna carries you inside, ignoring the shocked looks from the staff as he barks orders at them. His presence is intimidating, and no one dares question him as he demands the best care for you.
In the delivery room, Sukuna stays close, his usual arrogance tempered by something you rarely saw in him - worry.
“You’re stronger than this,” he tells you, his voice low and commanding as you fight through another contraction.
“You will not be defeated by something as trivial as childbirth.”
His words are harsh, but you can hear the underlying concern, the way his eyes soften ever so slightly when you cry out in pain. Sukuna was never one to show weakness, but in this moment, you can see that he’s in fact afraid. Afraid of losing you, afraid of something happening that he can’t control. Him, the king of curses, not in charge for this situation?
As the labor progresses, you find yourself relying on his strength, his presence a strange comfort in the midst of the pain. Sukuna’s hand find yours, his grip firm and unyielding, as if he tries to share his power with you, to keep you grounded in the storm of pain that washes over you.
“You will get through this,” he growls, his voice filled with an authority that doesn’t allow another argument.
“You are mine, and I will not let anything happen to you.”
When the final push comes, you can feel Sukuna’s grip tighten, his breath hitching as your baby’s cries echo through the room. He looks down at you, his eyes wide with something that might be shock. Or perhaps awe? You are too exhausted and filled with emotions to care.
“You did it,” he murmurs, his voice uncharacteristically soft as he looks at the tiny, wriggling form in your arms.
“You really did it.”
For a moment, Sukuna is silent, staring down at the baby with an expression you’ve never seen before - an almost hesitant curiosity.
Slowly and hesitating, he reached out, his large hand resting gently on the baby’s dark head.
“This… is ours,” he mutters, his voice filled with a strange mix of pride and possessiveness.
You nod, tears filling your eyes as you looked up at him.
“Yes, ours.”
He might be the king of curses, a being of immense power and cruelty, but in this moment, he is also a father, and you know that he’ll protect you and your child with everything he has.
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inuhalfdemon · 3 months
Text
Alastor x Female Reader
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"Hang In There"
Rating: Explicit [SMUT]
Word Count: 4,576 Words
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“Hm…I’d sure like to hang off of those antlers,” you told him; both of you drinking giddily at the bar.
Who knows why he humored the offer. Perhaps Alastor was tipsier than you realized, maybe he just felt like being entertained or, maybe he was just feeling uncharacteristically ruttish this evening.
For whatever reason, Alastor turned back to you and purred: “I’ll let you, too…. but, rule number one is: you can’t let go.”
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Warning Banner Source: cafekitsune
Heart Divider Source: bunnysrph
So it is, that you find yourself in bed with The Radio Demon.
When he's got you pressed firmly to him; both of you naked, and squirming in the sheets, it's easy to forget how you got yourself there in the first place. You both have been going hot and heavy there for some time now...your body is electric, demanding more. Biting your lip, you arch your back...every curve in your body fitting with his; desperate now for any form of friction. Your hand slides down...but he catches your wandering fingers before you make it below his waist. 
"Ah, ah, ah..." he scolds you - his voice singing back at you in a dark and low manner. "I have a very important task for you..." 
He tilts his head and you've only just now realized just how fully his antlers have come in. Points branch and jut up to the ceiling in long, sloping sharp curves. You've never seen them this long...this heavy... 
He tilts his head more; watching you coyly from mischievously narrowed eyes. You smirk back at him. Ready to play his game and feeling confident, you raise both arms and firmly grip around his brow tines; the points of antler that stretch most forward and that are nearest to his head. 
"Good girl..." he growls...the sound sultry and dripping with favor. 
You feel heat crawling up your face as he shifts himself; pushing you back down so that you are firmly pressed beneath him again and into the bed.
His face leans in close; and the heat of his breath tickles at the soft, fine hairs that trail upward from you neck - just behind your ears. He begins trailing kisses...gentle and sweet...starting there and working his way slowly...teasingly...all the way to your chin. He pauses. Kissing you warmly – firmly - before you part your lips in a gasp, your tongue sliding out to meet his in a need to continue and deepen the kiss. Chuckling, he pulls his mouth away...instead going back to trailing kisses all along your jaw on the other side. You huff and you swear you can feel his smile widen, against your scorching hot skin. He continues to pepper you with kisses...very slowly working his way down and across your neck, licking and nipping in the chosen spots he finds along both collar bones. With your hands occupied as they are, you cannot touch him and the implications of this are only now starting to sink in... There is a sliding wetness that's been building between your legs...a pulsing need for a special kind of attention spreading and thrumming from your navel and dipping down... 
When he comes to a breast...cupping the mound of flesh in one hand and flicking his tongue across the pert nipple, your back bows and you can't help the needy whimper that escapes you. Lifting his head; Alastor grins back at you in a lazy sort of smile. 
"Patience," he growls again. "All good things come to those who wait..." 
Watching you, watch him, he leans his head back down...tongue slowly sliding out from behind sharp teeth...the warm and wet tip of it swirling slow and teasing circles all around the firm flesh of your breast.
The tortuous teasing elicits more whimpers from you...turning into soft whines when he begins squeezing and kneading at you and his face drifts to the side as he repeats his teasing ministrations with your other nipple.
He is watching you still...red eyes glowing sharply back at you...dancing back at you in delight. He's enjoying seeing you coming undone...piece by piece...with you unable to do anything for it. 
A pant bursts from your lips; the building need that pulses incessantly between your legs is becoming too great. You squirm beneath him, lifting and squeezing your knees together  - seeking any amount of friction that your own body can provide. He presses himself further down on you...forcing you to remain still. Your whines to him sharpen...turning his ears...brightening the red glow that is coming from his eyes...eyes that have never once left you.
He begins sucking at your nipples, slowly and purposefully alternating between them. The tension in you has coiled so tightly…you are quivering now; a sheet of sweat is just beginning to coat your too heated body. One of his hands drags fingers down your side – claws grazing against taut skin stretched all down your ribcage.
A sharp tooth scrapes across the too tight - the much too sensitive - skin of the nipple he’s been actively tormenting. You can't help your hips from lifting into him in a soft buck. 
Alastor tsks at you... "I'm making this too easy for you, I'm afraid." He's looking at you now with a wry smirk. "Remember, our rule..." 
He shifts himself again, moving so that he is raised on his knees in the bed. It forces you to raise up with him - arms still lifted, hands clenching antler -, sitting fully upright now, with your back pressed flush against the headboard. He helps guide your legs out so that they are comfortably pulled out in front of you. Settling in, he leans close...not quite straddling you. 
His hand returns to the breast that he was attending before you interrupted him...his fingers gently brushing against the overly sensitive bud there before he pinches it. You bite your tongue, turning your reddening face away and suppressing a moan. He presses himself in closer and you feel his other hand finding your hip...feel his claws pressing into your skin there...not quite piercing through. 
He twists at the nipple again, then gives it a sharp tug. A hiss of pleasure slips past your tightened lips, and you hear him chuckle softly. 
The way that you are sitting, you can feel the wetness between your legs...feel it coating your sex and feel it sliding down and seeping into the bed. You so badly want to rut yourself into the mattress, his leg...anything that will bring you some form of relief. 
Almost reading your thoughts, his hand resting on your hip glides away...claws tracing sparking and burning trails all across your skin - going to just below your navel and still traveling lower...he slides his fingers through and into your pubic tuft...his other hand still playing and teasing at your incredibly firm nipple. You feel shock waves traveling down from your chest; rippling and building into something greater. His fingers curl into the hair that's there...pulling and tugging. He's already got you panting again. 
He's made you so dizzy with want. Shuddering, you suppress more wanton moans as you bend your head backward...exposing your neck to him. He lifts the hand away from your breast, his palm pressing to just the side of your neck...long, fingers wrapping...his thumb brushing tender and soothing circles over the pulse that's there. You didn't notice his hand ever releasing your pubic hair... didn't notice the way he shifted and leaned...the way his smile tightened, the way the tip of his long tongue poked from between his lips and slid across them in building anticipation. 
But, you felt it when he touched you. One long finger sliding between your wet folds...another finger sliding in beside it. You gasp, a small cry involuntarily leaving you at the contact he has made. Your hips tilt, legs spreading to him in open invite...you want more. The fingers he has pressed and wrapped around your neck tighten. Both of his fingers are gliding through your slick folds...massaging and spreading them away from the entrance you have hidden there. One finger dips inside...the claw of it dragging pleasurably against your wall when it enters. You can feel your sex fluttering; your body crying out with your intensely growing need. 
"Oh...sweetheart," he tells you breathily. "You're very nearly ready..." He drags his finger from you and you feel your walls throbbing...aching from the retreat of his claw. 
Leaning back now, he pulls his hand away. Peeking back at him with one eye, you see strings of your slick...gathered and dripping between his fingers. 
He sees you looking and the tilt of his smile curls at the corners. Humming, he dips his hand down and runs his hand across your belly...covering you in your own carnal slickness. 
You can feel your face burning...feel a pleasurable prickling running up the back of your neck and flooding your scalp as he leans himself down...Still holding onto his antlers, your arms are lowered as he bends down...head tilted back so that the curvature of his points that are near to your face are aimed safely away. 
His tongue darts out, taking long lapping sweeps of it as he cleans up the mess of you he has made. He comes to your navel and you groan...the hand that has never left your neck tightens...claws digging into skin. The tip of his tongue is teasing at the rim of your umbilicus...before dipping in and finding the beads of wetness that slid there. 
"Ahhhhh...." You shake out a breath. His tongue presses into you more...darting in and back out in a suggestive manner...giving you a very clear idea of the things he could do to you... with that tongue. 
You’re squirming underneath him again...unable to help yourself. Your legs opening still wider. 
"I hope you are well and prepared, my dear...because I mean to pluck three orgasms from you...one by one." 
Your eyes widen at this and when you turn to see just how serious he is...seeing how those red eyes are glinting back at you... you know that the answer is: deadly. 
His thumb presses against the pulse in your neck before his hand slides lower...claws raking pink lines against your skin as he leans himself further down. He is back to tongue-fucking your navel but he pushes two...three fingers inside you now and you feel your entrance pulsing around him. He moves them in slow, steady strokes...the tip of his claws dragging in and out of you in the most delicious of ways...the pad of one finger stroking and pressing into your sweetest of spots. You rotate and tilt your hips more...and your senses become absolutely flooded with everything that is pleasure. His tongue presses into your navel deeply...the tip of it wagging against you as he adjusts the angle of this fingers...jutting into that oh so sweet spot perfectly now...you've only just processed your climb when he’s got you thrown over the edge and you feel yourself breaking apart beneath him...your climax washing over you in a great and rushing wave. 
Your body is still sparking...jolting in pleasure when his fingers leave you...trailing through your quivering and sopping folds...finding your swollen and delicate nub and pressing against you just there. You buck sharply against him, and he pulls his tongue away from you now; his mouth latching to your skin above one breast...claws digging...only just piercing the skin where your neck meets your shoulder. He's swirling his fingers against your clit...increasing the pressure he places against it with the increasing firmness he feels building underneath. His mouth is suctioned against your skin... lips and teeth moving...popping fine vessels underneath...
His fingers change directions, swirling and jutting against you as his mouth comes off you in a pop; his tongue dragging against the mark he's left on you. You've been reduced to nothing but little pants and small whimpers... your body shaking as you feel the tightening of that burning coil...feel it growing hotter and hotter until finally the heat of it is just too much. Your body cracks...you feel yourself splitting apart...another orgasm starts and it doesn't stop until he releases you...his fingers slowly stroking your clit back down into swelling softness. 
He pulls his hands away; moving them to your knees and pushing them out wider. He is looking at you...assessing your current state. You want nothing more than to touch him...to run your hands across this bare chest...to drag your nails; to rake them deeply all across his back...to run your fingers through his hair...squeeze his long ears. 
"Oh my..." He's looking down, and his tongue curls at the corner of his mouth. "My dear...you are positively dripping..." His mouth opens at the sight of it and it's clear that it is watering. 
You whimper and it pulls his attention upward. He hums when he sees the mark on you he has made. 
"That's rather lovely..." His eyes soften and he leans in; lips pressing softly to the bruising skin. "I might just have to make more of them." 
Choosing another spot above your breast to place one; he softly licks at the skin. Keeping one hand resting on your knee; he slides his other back to between your legs...fingers trailing back into your seeping folds. Your whimpers turn into a low moaning when he enters you again...long fingers pushing inside you...his thumb stretched and pressed firmly against your clit. 
"Ah...fuck..." You gasp, feeling his thumb starting to move and swirl against you; his fingers moving inside and out of you in long, slow and tortuous strokes
He grins against your skin and then bites down. It pulls a soft cry from you; and you duck your head down now...swiftly becoming overwhelmed. 
He releases his teeth from you - going over the new mark again with his tongue. 
"Deep breaths, darling...slow and steady wins the race." Moving his face, he nuzzles a spot over your other breast before his mouth is on you roughly again. 
You try to concentrate on your breathing but there's just too much... his fingers are still slowly dragging in and out of you...his thumb pressing and pushing into your now throbbing clit...the claws of his hand on your knee is tracing vibrantly pink circles into your skin there. 
You begin rocking your hips, tilting and pressing yourself forward...desperately trying to ease this new growing tension. Finishing his newest mark, his face drifts beside it and he makes to start another one. Your whimpers turn to pitiful whining...you are doing everything you can to shift yourself more forward...to feel more of him against and inside you... 
His grip tightens at your knee and his teeth clamp painfully against your skin but the stroking he's doing to you is quickening and the pain only builds into more pleasure. 
Static energy runs through your body; your back arches and your arms pull back - your grip tightening around the antlers. 
"Can you take one more, dear? Just for me?" He breathes, his nose brushing against your neck...warm air touching your skin there. Your head leans back and you are exposing more of your neck to him now. 
"That's it..." He croons, his mouth pressing beside your pulse and tightening there. Eliciting cries from you now, he bites down in earnest - your blood seeping from between his lips. Your grip on him tightens and you feel his fingers really fucking you now...his hand on your knee is pressing you down - holding you open. 
The climax you find now is like slamming into a wall; your orgasm rushes in and you’re coming so hard and fast that it almost knocks you senseless. Your body bows and bucks beneath him and he is snarling against you - his mouth still suctioned tightly to your neck. His fingers haven't stopped working you and every stroke now is an electric jolt of pleasure that strikes deeply...resonating into your core...
You can feel your heart pounding hard inside of your chest; your body is feeling strained from all of the building and re-building of tension, you are sucking in air – panting and trying to steady yourself as you relax your arms, moving your fingers so that you might release his antlers and stretch out the small and aching joints in your hands. 
He is smearing the last bit of your blood across your skin with his tongue when he stops – pulling back and looking at you with a dark and hunger-filled gaze.
“Oh, no no no…darling,” he chides at you. “We’ve only just begun. I told you how many orgasms I planned to pluck out of you…I never said just how many I planned to fuck out of you.”
Your jaw drops and he laughs delightedly. He slips his fingers from you and both of his hands are sliding underneath of your legs; wrapping under knees – his hands cupping and gripping your ass.
“Hold on tightly now,” he tells you before he lifts you up and off of the bed. Reflexively, your hands tighten back around the smooth bone in your grip as he raises you; setting your ass against the top of the headboard and pinning you there with his hips. The bedcovers and sheets that had him covered drop away and your eyes fly open when you see the jutting erection that he’s got pressed into you.
Oh, sweet Lucifer…he’s huge!
He sees your reaction and it only brings him more mirth.
“It’ll be a tight fit…I’ll admit but, I think you’re well and ready for it now.” He leans further into you; his cock pressing nearly flush against you. “Oh, my…but how deep I’ll go…”
Your eyes are widening; your heart hammering even harder now as you imagine that inside of you. He presses even closer and you can’t help but notice how heavy it feels.
“Well, now I’ve gone and made you nervous.” His red eyes flash back at you in amusement, and you are now just noticing the slithering movement of shadows – the many dark tendrils that are winding their way slowly from behind his back and twisting toward you. “Perhaps…some assurance.”   
He hoists you so that your ass is still balanced on the headboard, but you are free from his hips.  Tentacles hurriedly slip from him and begin wrapping themselves around your waist and legs; holding you up and spreading your knees wider.
“How many parts of me can I fit inside of you…I wonder?” He muses, teasingly as one of the tendrils wiggles and waves in between you and him; just as another one is sliding up your upper thigh and its pointed end is prodding into swollen folds.  
You gasp at the cool and ticklish touch of it; feeling it explore you in an unfamiliar but exciting way.
Your heart rate climbs up again as you feel it pressing now against your sensitive entrance. Alastor is watching you process the anticipation of it entering you. When the tendril slides inside; you feel it undulating as it moves – feel it widening and shrinking as it presses itself further inward – stimulating your walls. You are more than a little wet, making it an easy thing for Alastor to slide two more tendrils in beside it. You rock back with a low moan, feeling his tentacles slowly reaching their way inside of you – stretching your walls and filling you up.
His eyes have left you; traveling down and watching how his appendages are penetrating you now – how they are wriggling and moving through you by your entrance.
He pushes the tentacles into you as deep as they’ll go; letting them undulate and thrash themselves about inside you before retreating them back and sending them rushing forward again, and again, and again. Each stroke is pulling breathy gasps from you, and you limply feel your body becoming more and more pliant.
He’s still greedily watching the tendrils fucking you and you can see the pre-cum beading at the slit of his purplish twitching tip. Seeing his growing arousal pulls a pitifully needful whining whimper from you. His long ears jerk toward you at the sound, his red eyes shifting back to your flushed face, and you see that the pupils within them have significantly widened.
He continues to fuck you with his tentacles, but he is stepping back into you now; his hands are moving, adjusting your legs. He shifts his hips and in one fluid motion one of the tentacles slides completely out from you while the other two retreat back – pulling at your entrance and your folds from both sides to create more of an opening – before he thrusts himself inside. You feel the two tendrils slipping out as he is driving in. Air rushes from your lungs; his girth is dragging against your walls, and those walls are clenching around him.
"Oh... that's....heavenly," his voice grates out from the back of his throat and you’re not sure if you ever heard words dripping with such sin. His eyes have transitioned from their glowing red to an almost pit-less black.  
He's slowly sinking into you, or you onto him; his shaft steadily traveling deeper. 
"A moment...if you, please." He pauses, ceasing all movement. His head is leaning back – your arms stretching with the tilt of his antlers – his eyes are closed as he breathes slowly, deeply. 
When he slowly opens them again, his eyes are not as blown out black as they were.
Slowly – shakily – you can feel your body relaxing around him. He tilts his head forward again and using his hands, he pulls your legs around his waist. As his tendrils are falling away, he’s got a firm grip on your ass with both hands, and you are solidly pinned between him and the wall. 
When he starts to move – shifting himself back and then pressing forward again - his length drives into you even deeper. There is no part of him that isn’t touching a sweet spot within you right now and the way that you start groaning with every jut of his pelvis is obscene. With each sharp thrust into you, he is sending you back into that dizzying elevated climb.  
You are just thinking how you are not nearly as sore as you could be when you first notice it; the sound – the absolute squelching that is coming from where your bodies are joined each time that he rocks himself in and then out. You notice that, and then you notice the coarse tickling of his curls against you with each connection that is made. There is a low groaning and scraping sound above you and you notice flecks of paint are falling on you now – the branches of his antlers scraping heavily into the wall. He begins to grunt; his own body becoming slick with sweat as his juts into you are becoming more urgent.  
When you come, even you can feel the gush of fluid that rushes from you – feel it dammed against his cock as it pulses out of you in spurts.
"Oh that's...lovely..." he manages to groan out before he’s over the edge with you; coming inside. He pumps himself out into you – his thrusts jerking, stuttering but slowing down now and you can feel him softening in you.
Before you have a moment to fully come down; he straightens himself – standing himself up to his full height and lifting his head – and lifting you. You’re not sure how he does it, but he easily walks himself back, away from the wall and you are quite literally hanging from his antlers as he slides his hands away from your ass.
Tentacles are wriggling and winding their way back to you; more of them than before – a lot more. They are curling and slithering to you from all directions now – creeping up your body and sliding coils around your torso and limbs. A few are slowly sliding themselves through your sweat-soaked hair; a couple are teasing and twisting around your nipples and one especially frisky one is slipping its way up the back of an upper thigh and pressing its tip between your cheeks. You buck your hips up; unprepared for the touch and Alastor laughs.
“One last round, I think.” He is chuckling, and out of breath. “I have gotten quite old, after all…”
Tendrils are securely wrapped all around you, supporting your weight, but even at that…you are exhausted. Your arms are shaking; your hands are cramped, and your palms are sweaty, and you know that you can’t take anymore. Your fingers are slipping and just as you try for one last attempt to find a better grip around the branches of his antlers, you feel a cool grip tighten firmly around both hands.
Surprised, you jerk your head up and see a dark wide, gaping maw smiling back at you – Alastor’s shadow is leant sharply away from the wall – your hands clenched in its fists, as it is holding you in place.
“I told you, darling” Alastor was growling in a low purr. “Rule number one is: you can’t let go.”
Oh, fuck…
Alastor starts moving and it is only then that you realize: he is still inside of you.
In long, slow, dragging strokes, he is fucking you with his cock again. Whilst this is happening, more tentacles are sliding in to tease you now.  One gently coils itself around your neck – the tip of it coming to the corner of your mouth – encouraging your lips to part so that when you do; it is tangling its tip with your tongue. Another – perhaps the one that was there before – is sliding and pressing into your ass; flicking its tip against the rim to your entrance and teasingly threatening to penetrate you there. Still, one other is slithering through the soft curls that is your pubic tuft – the tip of it sliding into your slit just enough that it is able to swirl against your sorely swollen clit.
All of this happening – completely overwhelming your system - and soon Alastor is pounding into you. You wouldn’t think it possible – that your body was capable of such stamina – but, you can feel yourself starting to build again.
Alastor slams himself into you; his back arching into the thrust. His pupils are blown out wide again and he is biting his lip. He’s on the brink of it and it’s very clear that this time he will be the first to come.
With a groan and a shudder; he thrusts himself deeply into you one last time. You feel him releasing inside of you and all at once your body feels like a live hotwire. Every sensation erupts into a fiery jolt of rising pleasure. Your coil tightens and you feel as if it must find some violent release or you will fall apart completely. A tendril tightens and twists against your breast and there is hot rod of vibration that plummets downward into your belly. The fire of it spreads quickly; engulfing everything in its path. A convulsive shudder runs through you, and you feel like your heart might just actually stop beating – again. When it reaches the core to your coil; everything within you ignites, sending you into the longest, most powerful orgasm you have ever experienced – you’re not even certain where it began or even where it ended.
But, end it did and when Alastor’s shadow slipped away, releasing your hands and returning to the darkness; you finally – shakily – released his antlers and let go.  
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Marking You
His beautiful canines break your skin so effortlessly. The bites are not deep, but they always bruise and sting.
"I'm sorry, my love," he tells you almost every night and every dawn with his mouth colored with your blood.
"Don't be," you comfort him and pull him closer. "I love when you mark me. When you make me yours."
He smiles and circles his hand across your neck. His thumb finds your lips and slides inside and presses against your tongue. "Only mine."
He turns you around in one swift move. You can feel his teeth on your jaw, and his cold long tongue licking your throat. He rips your shirt open and grabs your breasts. He's not gentle - his sharp nails scrape your gentle skin and pinch your nipples. You whimper, softly, and lift your skirt for him, your pussy already dampening your underwear. He slides one hand inside, finds your clit and lightly presses it. You jerk from pleasure, stimulation jolting through your muscles. He grabs your right knee and lifts it up for easier access.
"Mine." He bites your neck and shoulders, licking your blood away while he mercilessly fingers you with one finger, then two. You are close, but he slows down just when he feels your pulse and breathing speeding up.
"Please," you beg. "Please make me cum. I need it. I need it now."
He pants next to your ear. "Anything for you." While holding you like a doll, he finger fucks you until you're nothing but a screaming mess. He kisses you and pushes his tongue slick from your blood inside your mouth, devouring your orgasm, while you squirt all over his fingers.
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poebot · 9 months
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good for me. | sub!ellie williams
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tags: sub!ellie, dom!reader, cunilingus (e!recieving), over stimulation, nipple sucking, praise
a/n: dude i saw a pic (first one) of ellie that filled my mind with brainrot about nipple sucking like all i could think about was rolling her pretty tits under my tongue and agsjej- anyways. we need more sub!ellie in this damn community.
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you had her pinned down by the wrists against your pristine white sheets, straddling her hips and watching intently as her chest rises and falls with each shaky intake of air. her long fingers flex and squirm beneath your grasp as she starts to turn pink under your intense gaze, heat swarming in her lower stomach. she worries her bottom lip with her teeth making you tsk unapprovingly. a gentle hand reaches down to caress her warm cheek before you grasp more firmly at her jaw, your thumb swiping her pouty lip out of her mouth. its flushed and wet with saliva and the soft gasp ellie lets out from the subtle dominance of your actions has you leaking into your underwear.
“look at you. my pretty girl. being so good for me.." you lean forward to whisper into her ear. your tits press into hers as you place lingering open mouthed kisses against the sensitive flesh of her neck right below the sharp angle of her jaw. she squeezes her eyes shut and her mouth hangs open slightly. shes panting out sharp little breaths of anticipation. “nngh- please touch me..need you so bad." ellie sighs out the words like they're a secret, and a vicious smile spreads across your face at her little confession. she was enjoying this. enjoying being toyed with, completely at your mercy. the contrast was striking; like night and day. all the snark was gone from her voice. you wanted nothing more than to satisfy her wish and reward her obedience, but not before making her truly desperate for it.
“where do you need me, els?” your voice is sultry and low, almost unrecognisable to yourself. the innate power of having her in this vulnerable position enflames something in you, makes you slippery between the thighs. you want to make her work for it. to beg you to let her cum. you barely register the way your own hips begin to rock slightly against the front of her jeans. ellie gasps, bucking up into you. the subtle friction of your heat against hers makes her needy and anxious to feel you. she struggles slightly against your restraint, yearning to hold your hips. to grip your flesh in her hands and grind you down onto her, to coach you both to a release. “fuck- please baby, i’ve been so good. i can make you feel good, just lemme-” she’s babbling now, groaning as you increase the speed of your grinding.
“hey.” your tone is sharp and authoritative as you grab her by the chin again, diverting her attention. she’s instantly silent, staring up at you with eager eyes and furrowed brows. it almost breaks you. “relax. lemme take care of you.” your smile is sickly sweet as you lean down to connect your lips with hers in a chaste kiss that has her chasing your mouth when you depart. you finally release her wrists with a curt “stay.” that makes ellie swallow a whimper. but she’s such a good girl, staying perfectly still for you, watching as your hands slowly inch her tank top up to expose her perky breasts. your mouth waters at the sight of her soft pink nipples and you’re quick to latch onto one with a groan whilst palming the other.
ellie’s breathing increases rapidly as she watches you flick her nipple up and down with your tongue until it pebbles in your mouth. your lips are gentle, sucking the flesh softly and overwhelming her senses with the feeling of warmth. “uhhn- feels s’good baby, ffuck” ellie hiccups out, moving her hand to lace through your hair. you pop off of her nipple and blow cool air onto the flesh just to make her shiver, giggling cruelly at how cute she looks. her hair is a mess and her body shines with a sheer layer of sweat, a pretty flush spreading from her face down to her neck. she looks utterly fucked out and you haven't even ventured between her thighs yet.
you make quick work of unbuttoning her jeans, sliding them down to reveal her freckled legs. her boxer briefs are slick with her arousal making them almost sheer. the pretty outline of her pussy is on full display. you sigh contently, reaching under her knees to hike her legs up and spread them. “you’re adorable, you know that?” your voice is breathy as you take in the erotic sight below you, reaching a finger down to swipe through her wet folds over her underwear. “so wet.” ellie instinctively bucks into your touch, whining. “sh-shut up n’ fuck me already”
on a different day, you’d be crueler. punish her for speaking out of line by denying her your touch. but you’re just as desperate for her, and all you can offer is a non-committal “say please” which shes quick to relinquish before your diving forward to swipe your tongue up her pussy, desperate for a taste. “fuck!” ellie yelps out, her head thrown back against the sheets. she tastes tangy and sweet and you moan deeply before sucking her slick through the thin fabric.
“lets get these off of you, yeah?” you pant before shoving her wrecked briefs down the plush of her thighs. sticky webs of her arousal cling onto the fabric, and fuck she looks so pretty like this, all wet and pliant for you. her hole pulses around nothing and you’re quick to shove your face back in, sucking her puffy clit into your mouth. ellie’s hands fly, grabbing chunks of your hair in a fist as she humps mindlessly against your tongue. so greatful to finally feel some sense of relief. she’s letting out whiney cries of your name, practically fucking your face. her free hand grasps the sheets when your tongue prods into her entrance, gathering her precum onto your tongue.
“holy f-fuck baby ‘m gonna cum- fuckfuckfu” you’ve never seen her this needy, so close to release this soon; her voice is high and she can barely form full sentences as you feel her pussy pulse and her strong thighs trap you, warm liquid spilling into your eager mouth. you continue to eat her out through her high until shes tearing up and pushing you away, completely over stimulated.
“hh- shit…” shes huffing out, collapsed onto the bed with her arm covering her eyes. you crawl up ellie’s body to kiss her softly, the lingering taste of her cum still fresh on your tongue. a warm hand reaches down to massage the tense muscles of her thighs and you hold her face with the other, staring at her hazy expression. “you okay?” you whisper to her, pecking the tip of her nose lovingly. ellie smiles warmly, basking in the after glow of her orgasm, her eyes closed. “more than okay. fucking amazing.”
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