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[aiura-stan]

ngl ive been having A Time of it, though, as of late, and it’s not even just the new job. My body has decided to malfunction in several different confusing ways and I have to force my brain to stay awake sometimes

[healthtodys]

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[amar3103singh]

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[milkyhoneybee]

You know how some offices have a dog or other pet to help keep workers calm and happy? I want to be an office hucow. I'd have a nice little inside barn set up where people could take a break and come and brush me or give me scritches/pat me, feed me things, or they could take me outside to watch me gambol about in the sun before their next meeting

Cows are, after all, very cute and friendly, and they make friends and love to play!

Of course, they also love to lick things, whether that's a sweet treat or something saltier (or more umami), pulling up a skirt or opening trousers to let me get my dextrous, curious tongue on whatever they have for me, lowing and mooing excitedly whenever I get a treat

And, obviously, I need to be milked regularly. My udders would be kept plump and drained through the day to get me making more and more milk (on top of the supplements and medicine they give me to keep my production at max rate), and every time I hit a new growth milestone for them, there would be a little team celebration

They attach me to a milking machine mostly, while I kneel and chew on oats or watch them in the office, occasionally shaking my head so the bell around my neck clangs and my big floppy ears flick around, my tail twitching. Sometimes though, people want to drink from my teats directly or they'll get a stool and milk me themselves-- it's actually considered part of people's onboarding process, learning how to milk me so I don't get too full since that's painful for me, and as cute as it is to see me leaking and mooing for release, it makes it more difficult for the cleaners, plus it's bad for my health. Plus, my milk is super good for everyone else to drink

As long as people clean up after themselves, they're allowed to fuck me whenever they want, especially when I go into heat. Sometimes they need to put me on a special breeding rig to keep me from interrupting calls and meetings when I'm too loud, a fat dildo plunging into my cow cunt with a ring gag or dildo gag in my mouth depending on how quiet they need me

People are always surprised at how much they can fit inside my pussy, but it still feels hot at wet and so good to fuck, even after I'm stretched out, though sometimes they might need to spank my rear to get me to tighten back up after a heavy use or stretching session

I'd be such a happy office cow, and all the workers in my company would know how much I loved them and wanted them to enjoy their jobs

[captain-danwilds]

Helping my sister with her med school applications has made me very aware that Aaron would need to take at least one gap year. Granted early 2000s had an easier process than today (with lower average GPA/MCAT scores, less emphasis on already having clinical experience and higher matriculation rates requiring you to apply to fewer schools), but it would be impossible for him to complete everything required while also doing school and Exy without a gap year.

Ideally, Aaron would need to apply during 4th year playoff season and then complete supplemental essay hell during that following summer (Schools sent you the prompts and you have a week to submit, not too bad except you likely applied to 20+ schools and it’s all roughly happening the same week.) Then 5th year could be used for interviews and letters of interest/updates. But Aaron is not operating on the ideal timeline. He likely had planned to use his summer post TKM to study for the MCAT but instead he has to sit through his murder trial. While I know people who have studied for the MCAT during the school year, they also did nothing besides study during that time, which is not an option for Aaron.

I feel like there’s a lot of potential for angst we’re not digging into because while Andrew graduates and immediately has his next step figured out, Aaron is still figuring things out. He’s also feeling out of sync with all his friends and Katelyn since they largely completed the process when he was doing his 5th year. He’s also trying to balance having a long-distance relationship with a Katelyn who is struggling through her first year of med school on top of all the above nonsense.

However you could also go the comedy route, Aaron and Neil becoming friends during Neil’s 5th year since Aaron stuck around to work as Abbey’s assistant (or at Reddin).

[amar3103singh]

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[illdowhatiwantthanks]

The Eggplant (The Surprise, Part 18)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: nightmares, mentions of Emily's fake death, mentions of past sexual trauma (nothing graphic though), discussions of birth/delivery times (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 2.1k

Summary: You've always struggled with sleep and nightmares, but the third trimester is making it worse than ever. Thankfully, Emily is always there to calm you down and take your mind off the bad dreams.

Note: I know the gif is the man that we can't stand! But it was the most appropriate one! Just use your imagination! Replace him with reader!

Week 28: The Eggplant

You jerked awake, gasping and flailing, struggling to sit up against the weight of your baby bump. Sweat pooled in the dips of your collarbone and at the nape of your neck, dampening the soft strands of hair that rested there.

You blinked in the darkness, sucking in great gulps of air, feeling for Emily next to you. She was already up, already pressing her hand into yours and squeezing your palm, already drawing you into her chest, holding you protectively.

“Hey, hey,” she cooed, “it’s okay. You’re alright. It’s just a dream.”

Your heart raced, and you snaked your arms around Emily’s waist, burying yourself in her. You coughed, your breath still caught in your throat. She ran her thumb gently along the side of your face, wiping away the tears that lingered from the dream.

You’d always had more vivid dreams–and more often–than the average person. As a child, you’d even been diagnosed with a sleep disorder characterized by horrific nightmares. It had faded, but not gone away, as you grew up. After a lot of trial and error, you’d discovered that taking ashwagandha supplements before bed largely put a stop to the nightmares.

But you weren’t allowed to take ashwagandha while you were pregnant or breastfeeding. You’d been lucky until now–the nightmares had been few and far between, despite not being able to take your usual sleep aid. But when you hit the third trimester, they’d come back in full force. Almost every night, horrifically realistic, so terrifying that you were often scared to go back to sleep afterward for fear the dreams would resume. You’d tried melatonin, Benadryl, Tylenol PM, Unisom, and doxylamine. Tonight, you’d tried magnesium. The only thing it’d done was make you have to get up and take a shit in the middle of the night.

Your heart rate was slowing, but your body still shook. You grasped onto Emily’s t-shirt desperately, as if it was the only thing tethering you to the world. Sometimes the dreams involved your family. But most often these days they were about Emily.

“I guess that’s a no on the magnesium, huh?” Emilly whispered, her breath warm at the top of your head. “You want to talk about it?”

You let out a shaky breath, holding her just a bit tighter. “You died again,” you said, your voice so soft she almost couldn’t hear you. You were afraid to speak it into existence.

You could see Emily’s face without seeing it. Always wracked with guilt, always heartbroken. She always told you that going into WITSEC after Doyle, letting you and her team believe she was dead for nearly a year, was the worst thing she’d ever done. There had been no way around it; you knew it and she knew it. You didn’t like to bring it up, didn’t like to make her feel bad. She’d done what she had to do to protect herself, and as much as her fake death had devastated you–destroyed you, even–you couldn’t bring yourself to hold it against her.

“It was Doyle,” you whispered into her neck. “He made me watch.” You shuddered, and Emily grasped your face in both of her hands, turning you gently so she could look you in the eyes. She brushed a strand of hair out of your face and sighed.

“He’s dead, honey,” Emily said firmly. “I will never do that to you again.”

A tear ran down the side of your face, part of your brain still stuck in the dream, still watching Doyle hurt Emily again and again. Emily wiped it away, replacing it with a kiss.

“It’s okay, baby,” she reassured you, her heart aching to see you so scared. “I’m okay. I’m safe.”

“I’m sorry, Em,” you choked out, more tears coming now. It was three in the morning. You were on your second week of waking up terrified every night. Emily always got up with you. She had to be tired. You were exhausted. “You should go back to sleep.”

“Nope,” she protested lightly, drawing you down to the bed with her, pressing your face to her chest. “No crying, come on. It’s okay. You’re up, I’m up. Shh, just let me hold you, alright?”

You leaned into her touch, relishing the way her fingernails felt against your scalp, the weight of her arms around you, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat, the up and down of her breath.

“What’ll help?” she asked. “You want to get your mind off it? Think about something else?”

You nodded, sniffling.

“Alright,” she yawned, stretching a bit to reach inside the drawer of her nightstand. She pulled out her tablet, the light from the screen making you blink.

“What are you doing?” you asked, blinking.

“We might as well get something done, if we’re up,” she said, cradling your head in the crook of her elbow, so that she could manage the tablet and keep you close at the same time.

She opened a Google doc that she’d titled Birth Plan.

“Birth plan?” There was a series of questions and fill-in-the-blanks on there, as if Emily had copy-pasted it from another website. “I thought the plan was to have the baby. That’s the birth plan.”

She pinched at your stomach, and you giggled, squirming. “No, you dork. There’s more to it than that. And I’d rather us make the decisions now, so when you’re in labor, freaking out, we don’t miss anything.”

“I think you mean when you’re freaking out during labor.”

You watched her roll her eyes and smiled. You loved teasing Emily.

“Okay, well, regardless of who's freaking out, we need a plan. So just… lay your pretty head down and answer my questions, okay?”

You kissed the inside of her arm and nestled yourself comfortably against her. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Alright, let’s see…” Emily said, brows furrowed, biting at the corner of her lip. Her thinking face. She meant business. “Full name and pronouns, I already know that. Partner’s name and pronouns… Due date, provider… I can fill all this out without you.”

“So then, the birth plan really is just have the baby?”

“No!” Emily insisted, scrolling. “Here. Here’s some you can answer. Have you ever… had group B strep?”

“No.”

“Been previously diagnosed with genital herpes?”

Your face went beet red. “Jesus, Em! No!”

She smirked. “I know, I just wanted to see you blush. Uh… do you have Rh incompatibility with the baby?”

“I don’t think so? I feel like Dr. Delgado would have mentioned it by now.”

“I’m putting no. Gestational diabetes?”

“No.”

“Fear of needles?”

“No, not really.”

“Have experienced–” Emily stopped suddenly, her voice stuck in her throat.

“Experienced what?” you prompted. When she didn’t answer, you poked her leg with your foot. “Emily, experienced what?”

“It’s okay,” she mumbled. “I can answer that one for you.”

“Well, now I want to know…”

“It’s fine, Y/N. Let’s just move on.”

“No, Em, I want to know!”

She sighed and bit at one of her nails. You furrowed your eyebrows and took her hand.

“Have you ever experienced birth trauma or prior sexual assault,” Emily read, her voice soft.

“Oh.”

You were both quiet for a moment, your thumb running over Emily’s knuckles. “Well, I guess you did know the answer for that one…” you said, trying to lighten the mood. “Let’s keep going.”

Emily shook her head a bit, as if clearing clouds. “Uh… delivery plan… I’m assuming vaginal?”

You nodded. “What are the other options?”

“C-section or water birth.”

You shivered. “Yeah, definitely vaginal. I think I’d cry if I had to give birth in a kiddie pool.”

Emily cracked a smile, and you were glad to see her getting back to herself. “Who do you want in the room with you?”

“You.”

“Well, yeah. Anyone else, though? Your mom?”

“Just you,” you confirmed, kissing her hand.

“Whatever you want,” Emily confirmed, continuing down the list. “Do you want any music played?”

“Screamo.”

Emily laughed. “Can you imagine?”

“Alright, I’ll settle for punk.”

“I’m putting TBD,” Emily decided. “Okay, this next part is a big, long checklist, so just say yes or no, I guess.”

“Okay,” you agreed. Your heart rate was almost back to normal, your breathing calm and even as you snuggled into Emily. You were starting to feel sleepy again, and were trying not to fight it, not to let yourself get scared again.

“Lights dimmed?” Emily asked, making her way down the list.

“Uh… I guess so?”

“Room as quiet as possible?”

“Minus the punk music, yes.”

Emily fought off a smile, running a hand absentmindedly through your hair. “As few interruptions as possible?”

“...Yes?”

“As few vaginal and cervical exams as possible? Yes.” Emily’s voice grew quiet again as she read this one, and you squeezed her hand to let her know you were okay. “Hospital staff limited to my doctors and nurses only? I’m putting yes for this one, too. I don’t want any fucking students in there watching.”

You yawned, closing your eyes as you pressed your cheek against Emily’s chest. You were having a harder and harder time staying awake.

“Do you want to wear your own clothes?”

“Yes,” you mumbled.

“Your glasses?”

You looked up at her, confused. “As opposed to what? Loaner glasses?”

Emily shrugged. “No glasses, I guess?”

“No. I can’t see shit without my glasses. The baby would just be a blob.”

“So yes to your glasses… Do you want me to take pictures?”

“Of me giving birth?!” you exclaimed. “No!”

“But you’ll look so beautiful!” Emily argued.

“I’ll look like a hot plate of shit,” you shot back. “In fact, I might actually shit myself during labor. I don’t want any photographic evidence of that, thank you.”

“Fine,” Emily grumbled. “Putting no. Would you like to stay hydrated with clear liquids and ice chips?”

“What kind of question is that?” you asked, fighting off another big yawn. “Of course I want to be hydrated.”

“Do you want to eat?”

“I don’t know. Depends on how long it takes, I guess.”

“There’s no box for maybe,” Emily observed.

“Make a box, then, Emily. Jesus. You work for the FBI.”

“Mean…” she mumbled.

“Sorry. I love you.” At this point, you were half-asleep, Emily’s voice far away, as if you were underwater.

“Do you want me to catch the baby?”

“Catch the baby? What are they tossing it?”

“No, like… as he’s born.”

“As she falls out of my vagina?!”

“...Yeah.”

“Not really. I want you up with me so I can squeeze your hand and yell at you.”

Emily was quiet, and you grabbed for her hand, blinking your eyes open.

“Unless it’s important to you,” you told her. “If that’s something you want to do, then by all means.”

“No…” Emily thought out loud. “But I think I’d like to cut the umbilical cord, if that’s okay with you?”

You nodded, getting comfy again, sleep infringing on the edges of your consciousness.

“Do you want him placed on your chest right away?” When you didn’t answer, Emily prompted you again. “Y/N?”

She looked down to find you conked out, snoring softly, your arm wrapped around her stomach, legs entwined with hers. She smiled softly at you and kissed the top of your head, sneaking her hand under the fabric of your shirt to rub your back.

“I’m putting yes,” she whispered, typing quickly then turning off the tablet and setting it gently on the nightstand, careful not to shift too much and wake you.

Emily adjusted the covers so that you’d be nice and warm. She wasn’t a praying person, but she hoped against hope that you’d sleep through the rest of the night. You had huge circles under your eyes from so many nights of restless sleep. Emily was used to running on little sleep, but you weren’t. And you were growing a baby. You needed more sleep than usual, and you weren’t getting it.

She pressed her lips to your head again and again, making sure you were secure in her arms. She couldn’t go into your head and fight off the nightmares for you, but she could make sure that if and when you woke up, you felt safe right away. She could make sure she was there, make sure that the moment you gasped awake, you felt Emily next to you–real and alive and warm and very, very here.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

What's This? (Hazbin Lucifer x Fallen!Reader)

CW: Cock ring, overstimulation, pleasure Dom undertones, wings, Luci a bit in his feels, Begging, praise, multiple orgasms Rating: Adult Summary: Lucifer's lover, a newly fallen Angel continues her exploration of sinful pleasure as Lucifer teaches her what the cockring she found in his nightstand is for.

“There’s some oil in my nightstand,” Lucifer said, wings fluttering as you ran your fingers through the plumage. 

“Will I have to start using it too?” you asked, fluttering your wings, now starting to look closer to charcoal than ash as you slipped off the edge of the bed. 

“Probably. Such a crap thing to lose your oil glands for falling.” Lucifer tried to keep his voice cheery, masking the look of sadness that crossed his face. You fell for him, rather literally, and having to use supplemental oil to maintain your feathers was just one more change your body would go through as a result. 

He hated it. He hated what loving him cost you. What he hated most of all was that he couldn’t make himself pick up the phone, call up top and arrange to send you back. He loved you too damn much. 

“What’s this?” you asked, drawing Lucifer’s eyes to where you had been rummaging through his drawer. In one hand was the bottle of oil and in the other was a small black ring. He watched for a moment as you stretched it between two fingers before looking at him. 

A golden blush was high on Lucifer’s cheeks as he indulged in your innocent wonder. He had shown you so much over the last few weeks, and yet you still had so much to learn.

“It’s a… cock ring.” 

Your eyes widened at the words, and for a moment he thought perhaps you knew what that was. “Jewelry? For your…?” 

He laughed, standing from the bed. All six of his wings fluttered as he settled the feathers into place while he walked over to you. “It could be, if it was a nicer one. This one- it’s all function though. Not much to look at.” 

“I don’t… function?” You blinked those wide, still so innocent eyes at him. They were so beautiful, even as they darkened from the crystalline color they had been while your sins took root. 

“It ah-” Lucifer chuckled. “It makes it so a penis is harder and stays hard for longer.” 

“Oh,” you looked between him and the rubber ring in your hand, “But you don’t… need help with… with that.” It was your turn to be flushed, gold rising high in your cheeks. 

“Not right now, no.” Lucifer laughed, “But it can be fun for really, really long encounters.” For a moment, silence settled over the pair of new lovers. “Do you want to see?” 

He was already unbuckling his pants. You looked at him with those wide, beautiful eyes he loved so much, taking in the way his cock already strained against the front of his pants. 

“You can’t be serious.” You shifted, rubbing your thighs together under the simple robe you wore. “We just made love a few hours ago.” 

“Exactly,” Lucifer laughed as he pushed past the risk of being rejected, eyeing where your legs met under the fabric of the robe, knowing it was his seed that still dampened your folds. “What better way to show off what this baby can do?” 

You looked away in a panic as his pants fell around his ankles, cock springing free as he took the ring from your fingers. While the differences between the male form and the female still made you blush, you couldn’t help curiosity. 

You watched as his cock grew harder in his hand. He easily stretched the black ring and slipped it over his length, feeding it down. It snapped slightly as he let it off his fingers, drawing a high moan from the devil. 

“Does it feel good?” You asked as the plastic dug into the base of his shaft, squeezing him. 

“It does,” Lucifer’s hips bucked as you reached out, soft fingers caressing the head of his cock. The whole of his cock was beginning to turn a golden hue. “It will feel even better when I’m inside you.” 

“How?” You asked as he stepped closer, wrapping his arms around you as he kissed your jaw. 

“Blood goes in,” he said, grinding his cock into her hip. “but it doesn’t come out as much. Makes it bigger. More sensitive. Makes it harder to finish, too.” 

“Oh,” you whispered, distracted by his lips on your neck and the feeling of his hand running through your feathers. When had he untied your robe? You lost track of his hands as he pressed his naked body against yours, warm skin against skin. 

He laid you back on the bed, crawling up over you. There was a moment where he hovered, just looking down at you with the softest eyes. “I love you,” he whispered, leaning down and kissing you sweetly.

“I love you, too.” You answered as he nestled the head of his cock between your slick folds. 

“Always ready for me,” Lucifer whispered, finding your arousal and mingled with the remains of his seed, allowing him to slip the head of his cock into your waiting opening without effort. He sighed as wet warmth surrounded him, sinking deeper into you. “It’s like coming home.” 

“You are home,” you sighed, back arching as he filled you slowly. He was thick on his own, but you could feel the added girth as your walls, already relaxed and stretched from earlier lovemaking, were pushed wider. 

Lips found lips as he worked deeper into you. Strong hands ran over your sides, taking in the feel of you as he softly thrust into you. Each push and pull of his cock through your walls had you gasping, still sensitive from the prior encounter. 

You ran your hands up his chest. Every feel of his muscles twitch and bunch made heat rise in your chest, threatening to burn you alive. His strong shoulders strained under your fingers as he angled his hips, ensuring his cock dragged against your clit with each soft thrust. 

“So warm,” he whispered into the kiss as your fingers ran through the feathers of his upper set of wings, getting lost in the thick down undercoat. “So beautiful.” 

Your orgasm snuck up on you, a soft wave that crested without a buildup or fanfare. Tired walls clenched and flexed as the length of his cock continued its steady push and pull through you. 

“Luci.” A gasping moan of his name fell from your lips. 

He had never had strong opinions on his name; it was simply what he had been called for eons. He was Lucifer, the Morningstar. The first. The best. The fallen. 

But hearing it fall from your lips in the heat of passion, he loved the sound of his name then. It was sweet music to his ears. Never did he want to stop hearing you say it. 

He had loved and lost before. Loving again terrified him, but for you, he would risk it. If it meant he could hear you sigh his name as your body clenched around his cock, he would risk it. If it meant he was the one giving you such pleasure, he would risk it. 

Your fingers ran up the back of his head, carding through blond hair that had once been ever so perfectly arranged. At some point, he hid his face in your shoulder as he thrust you through your orgasm, lost in his thoughts and the pleasure of your body. 

He pushed an arm under your back, holding you to him as he rolled off your body. You hooked your leg over his, running your calf up his leg as he continued his lazy thrusts. He would fuck you proper, he fully intended to, but right this second he was lost in the sea of lovemaking. His hips rocked with the waves, thrusting into you as he pulled your thigh higher, gripping it against his hip. 

“You’re so pretty like this,” Lucifer said, shifting slightly so he could run his other hand through the plush feathers of your wings. 

You looked at him as if he hung the very stars in the sky. He did, but that didn’t change the way his heart swelled with the admiration and love in your eyes. When you looked at him like that, he forgot the anxiety and doubt, if only for a little while. The way you looked at him made him feel like that man who had wielded the divine power of creation, building everything there ever was and would be at the whim of his father. 

He thrust into you, pulling your hip to meet his with each soft roll. Your arm wound around his, fingers digging into his feathers just as he worked his fingers into the plumage of yours. The steady beat of his heart under the hand you rested on his pale chest drew you closer, eyes locked on his. 

He moaned into the soft kiss, reveling in the feeling of your hands on him. It had been so long since he had someone to hold, someone who wanted to hold him. Even in the last few years of his marriage, Lilith didn’t hold him, even when they made love- no, there was no love then, it was just fucking. That’s why he had the rings, after all, so he could stay hard long enough to do the job for someone that so clearly didn’t love him anymore, who couldn’t love him when he couldn’t love himself. 

You eagerly touched him. There wasn’t a moment when you were not running your hands over him, passing touches, fingers threaded through fingers, soft kisses. He bathed in a sea of lingering touches, something he had needed for so long and been afraid to ask for. 

You ran your hand up his chest, fingers caressing his neck as they wrapped behind it, pulling him in. It wasn’t possible to hold one another closer as he continued to rock his hips into you, sliding his cock in and out of you at a slow pace that didn’t fail to build a fire in you but that didn’t stop either of you from trying. 

Your fingers ran through his hair and his feathers, carding the strong flight feathers and digging into the plush down feathers. He moaned, doing the same to your wings. Whispered words of love were swallowed as he pushed you forward, thrusting his cock through your walls. 

“Lu-luci,” you moaned, back arching as he tugged your feathers. Lips worked on your neck as he brought you closer to another orgasm. 

It didn’t seem possible, but his constructed, swollen cock pushed into you just right. His tail wrapped around your thigh, pointed spade tip caressing higher and higher. You jumped as he softly swatted your ass with it, not enough to do anything more hint at a sting. 

“I can’t,” you gasped as he palmed your breast, eagerly feeling every part of you. “Luci, I can’t.” 

“You can,” he whispered, lips moving against your shoulder as he lightly pinched your nipple. “You can, and then we’ll keep going. With this on me, I can keep going.” 

“Fuck,” you swore, such an uncharacteristic word to drop from your pretty lips as he shoved you into another orgasm. 

“Good girl,” he whispered, eyes focused on your face. He thrust through your convulsing walls, letting you ride your orgasm out on his cock. “You’re so beautiful,” he praised. “I could never have made something as beautiful as you.”

“No more,” you begged, tears sparkling in the corners of your eyes. “I can’t, I’m so sensitive.” 

Lucifer kissed you again as you squirmed out of his arms. Wide eyes looked at him, cock flushed bright gold in contrast to the black ring around the base, throbbing with each beat of his heart. 

“I can’t.” 

Lucifer stood, wrapping you in his arms as you rose on trembling legs. “You can,” he whispered before kissing you deeply. “If you want to, you can. I promise you, it’ll feel like too much, but I can show you just how much you can take.” 

“Lucifer,” you moaned, his tail wrapping again around your thigh. The tip ran through your folds, tip nudging the sensitive nub of nerves. You were so sensitive now, body coming apart on a hair trigger and needing hardly anything to push you toward another orgasm. 

“One more,” he asked, voice hot and needy in your ear as he kissed your neck. “One more, then I’ll take it off and we can finish up.” 

“That’s,” you sighed as his cock ran through your folds, nudging his tail from your clit. “That’s two more.” 

“For you,” he laughed as you sighed, body little more than jelly in his arms. “You can do it. Just say yes.” 

Temptation. The man you loved was the prideful face of temptation itself. He was everything anyone could ever want, a sweet promise of more. Who could deny him? Certainly not you. You granted your consent with nothing more than a timid nod, stilled by his lips on yours. 

The kiss was deep, stealing what little air you still had in your lings. It left your already weak knees unable to hold you. It didn’t matter; you didn’t need them too. 

Lucifer’s strong arms wrapped around you. Black hands buried in your hair, fingers digging into the feathers of your wings as he rutted his swollen cock against you. Each soft thrust had him panting, moaning softly. 

“Lucifer,” you moaned his name as he laid you back on the bed, legs hanging off the edge. 

“My favorite song,” he murmured, slipping his painfully hard cock back into your abused hole. His name fell from your lips again as he easily bottomed out, swollen walls easily parting for him, fluttering with the promise of more pleasure. 

“Wha-” you sighed your question, his pubic bone rubbing against your clit as he nestled the head of his cock at your cervix.

“You sing my favorite song,” Lucifer clarified, beginning to thrust into you. His pace was harder, each thrust slapping his hips against yours with more force than he had used in the prior two positions. The sting of him colliding with your clit had your back arched off the bed, wings twitching and spreading wide. “In all of hell, you sing my favorite song.” 

He watched himself delve into you, your warm body swallowing him easily. Arousal poured from you, evidence of the two prior orgasms. He hadn’t given you much time to recover from either of them, pushing you into overstimulation. 

Two more, that’s all he wanted. One for the selfish pleasure of watching you come apart on his cock and one for him to ride along with his own. It was selfish, he knew, but Father above knew he was little more than a prideful, selfish man. 

He watched as your breasts bounced and moved with each thrust into you. Tears gathered in your eyes as he ran his black hands down your stomach, feeling the way his swollen cock pressed into you with each thrust. Pleas fell from your lips as you looked up at him. 

Were you begging for more or for him to stop? You didn’t even know. 

Lucifer gripped your hip with one hand, running the other down your mound. As soon as he began rubbing your clit, running his fingers around your slick nub, your pleas reached new heights. Hips twitched as you battled between getting away from him and chasing the pleasure. 

You came with a sob. His name was the only thing that could be made out. Your chest heaved, breasts dancing for him as he lazily thrust into you. 

“So pretty,” he said, running his hands up and down your sides. He caressed your ribs and breasts as you twitched and clenched around him, body fighting him for the seed he was almost ready to give up. “A masterpiece.” 

“Last one,” you sobbed, body twitching with every brush of his hands. “I can’t, not again.” 

“You can,” Lucifer promised, pulling his cock from you. “It’ll be the last one, I promise. You’re doing so good for me. You can give me one last one. Look, angel, I’m taking the ring off now.” 

You slid from the bed, sitting limply on the floor at the foot of it as you watched him take the black ring from his cock. Instantly, once the pressure was removed blood rushed from his shaft. The golden color lightened and its size shank slightly. The head of his cock remained bright gold, weeping even as your slick reflected off of him. 

“Can you get onto your hands and knees for me?” He asked softly, kneeling in front of you. “You can do that for me, can’t you?” 

You tried. Shaking limbs needed support. He wrapped his hands around your waist, pulling your torso up as he sheathed himself in your shuddering body. He moaned behind you. 

As soon as he lowered you onto your hands, your elbows gave out. In a matter of moments, you were face down and ass up while the devil thrust into your body. Every part of you trembled, spent, exhausted and used up. The rustling of your wings was loud in your ears. Down feathers, knocked free by the change of position, floated down around your face.

The sound of his hips slapping into your ass reached your ears, along with the string of sweet praises. You loved the way he freely complemented you. Everything you did was just right for him, from the way you preened his feathers to the way you took his cock. 

You couldn’t make words form. All you could do was moan weakly as his fingers gripped your hips. There was something about this change of position that had you aware of the coil tightening in your stomach, something you swore you had grown numb to as he pulled orgasm after orgasm from you. 

“Luci,” you whimpered, finally able to form his name when his cock twitched inside you. 

One hand ran down your stomach, caressing your slick clit as the other ran up your back. Fingers walked up your spine before wrapping around the base of your wing. The tightening grip on it had you crying out and clenching around him. 

“Luci,” you gasped, face resting against the ground as he increased his pace. “Luci, I- I’m… I’m… Luci,” you sobbed his name as he chased his finish. You were clenching around him, tightening with each kiss of his head against your cervix. 

You came with a wail, sobbing his name again and again as he folded over you. The grip of your walls around his overstimulated cock had no trouble pulling him into his own orgasm. Just as you cried out his name, he chanted yours as if it was the most sacred prayer he’d ever say. 

As he painted your walls white, clinging to your trembling body, blackness overtook your vision and your mind floated away. 

“Angel?” Lucifer asked as your relaxed body shifted. Realizing you had blacked out, he wrapped his arms tighter around you. A few strong beats of his wings and he could position the both of you into the bed. 

It hadn’t been his intention to fuck you to the point of blacking out, but it wouldn’t be incorrect to say pride didn’t swell in him as he dozed, holding you as you recovered. 

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord where we talk Vox, Hazbin, writing, reading, art and who knows what else. You may even catch some exclusive sneak peeks at upcoming fics from some of your favorite writers including the first page of the next chapter of MisD a day early!!

[neo-my-geo]

It's migration season!

Certified spycrab factoids below the cut!

Did you know?

The wild spycrab's natural habitat is the shores of Banana Bay, but they summer in the alpine regions of the United States.

Unlike most species of crustacean, spycrabs typically prefer to reside on dry land. They become dehydrated very easily because of this, so they thrive near sources of water.

Spycrabs are technically classified as a species of false crab due to the fact that they have eight limbs instead of ten. Other species that fall under this classification include hermit crabs, porcelain crabs, and squat lobsters!

Spycrabs glow under ultraviolet light.

Spycrabs earned their name by being incredibly adept at using their environment to disguise themselves - some have even been seen hiding under cardboard boxes to ambush prey!

Despite typically residing in groups of five or less, spycrabs migrate in massive swarms twice a year. This is likely due to large numbers reducing the risk of individual injury or predation as they travel through unfamiliar areas.

While they are able to walk in all directions, spycrabs prefer side-to-side.

Spycrabs are covered in microscopic hair-like structures called setae - they help them perceive the world around them!

Due to not having a way to source cigarettes, non-domesticated spycrabs smoke the fallen cigarette butts left behind by wild spies.

Spycrabs have unusually long lives for crustaceans, with an average lifespan of 82 years.

Spycrabs don't molt as often as most species of crustacean; they tend to only do it every three to four years. This can be attributed to their long lifespans and slower growth rates.

The most common varieties of spycrab are red and blue; purple, green, and yellow varieties have been spotted in the wild, however!

Unlike the hermit crab, their closely-related cousin, spycrabs have eyes that are set directly in their faces instead of on stalks. This has been theorized to be because they are apex predators in their natural habitat.

Spycrabs are one of the only species of false crab that are legally classified as a group 1 carcinogen. They are not recommended for consumption by humans.

Have you been considering keeping a domestic spycrab as a pet? They are unique and challenging to care for, but there aren't many things more rewarding than a happy spycrab.

Spycrabs grow bored very easily and aren’t recommended for first-time crab parents. Make sure to keep them occupied with enrichment provided by decks of cards, books of a third-grade reading level or lower, and car magazines.

Spycrabs are social creatures! Never keep a solitary spycrab, as they can become depressed without company.

The spycrab’s diet consists of algae, small clams, caviar, small mammals, snails, and cigarettes. While a spycrab can survive just fine on bagged crab chow alone, the enrichment provided by these foods will keep them happy and healthy.

When caring for a domesticated spycrab, consider supplementing extra chitin in their diet to keep their exoskeleton strong and healthy.

When not encouraged to exercise, spycrabs will become lazy and lethargic. Consider keeping their cigarette carton at the top of an incline that they must traverse to reach it.

Spycrabs are prone to sudden bouts of aggression, especially when they feel personally wronged. Remember that most threats made by a spycrab are empty ones, but it’s still important to get to the root of the issue and understand why they feel upset.

Spycrabs lack the ability to digest alcohol the way humans can; it is not recommended that owners give them wine, no matter how hard they ask. Consider substituting it with grape or cranberry juice, as most of them can’t tell the difference.

[healthmonastery]

Natural Ways to Boost Collagen and the Best Supplements

Collagen, the most abundant protein in our bodies, plays a vital role in maintaining skin elasticity, joint health, and overall well-being. As we age, our collagen production declines, leading to visible signs of aging and joint discomfort. Let’s explore the wonders of collagen, natural methods to boost its production, and the top collagen supplements to enhance your health and beauty. 1.…