Lustful Sex

Horny catboy venti if your comfortable?? 😩

a/n: hi anon, i actually don’t take requests but i liked this idea so much i wanted to make this short drabble. perhaps i’ll take a few requests to see how i like this. sorry for the long wait!

mmm.. holding venti by his dainty throat n pinning him to the mattress,, meaty cock pounding all sense out of his stupid little head. i luv.

he’s covered in his own cum, tiny dick left bouncing between his spread legs as it twitches helplessly for attention.

venti claws at your strong wrist around his neck, gargling unintelligible pleads and hi-pitched moans. “stupid kitty, cant even talk straight can you?” you breathe out into his ear.

erratic thrusts slow into deep grinds. deliciously grazing over his throbbing prostate. venti whines and wraps his tail around your waist, encouraging you fuck him faster.

feline eyes blink slowly up at you, hazily taking in the sight of your perverted look. venti smiles up at you with that fucked out haze, slowly bucking his hips to meet your fat cock nestled inside his walls.

“ fuck me more. want more!” venti slurred out his demand before he even realized what he said, eyes widening as his ears stand in surprise at his own actions. “ w-wait, m’ sor— nng!!?”

harshly flipping him onto his stomach, you fuck into him at a brutal pace. pulsing cockhead bruising his bundle of nerves. “ giving orders now huh? should i put some fucking manners in that tiny brain of yours? mm?”

venti nearly screams at how deep your hitting inside him, your words combined with the delectable friction of the sheets against his swollen dick sends him hurtling into a toe-curling orgasm. with no warning but a loud moan ventis eyes roll into the back of his head as cum stains the sheets below him.

but you don’t stop. instead you tug at the base of his shuddering tail, using it as leverage to go deeper then before. scratchy wails fill the room as venti reels into his second orgasm embarrassingly fast.

sobs muffle into the pillow below him, mind going dumb at the feeling of your nonstop plunges into his fucked out hole. leaning down to whisper hotly in his ear: “ since you do whatever the fuck you want, m’ gonna fuck you full until i’m satisfied,” you snake a hand under him to rub his tummy “ fill you up so good with my seed you’ll bare my kittens. you’d like that wouldn’t you?” venti sobs out louder, ears twitching n pushing his hips back weakly to meet yours.

“of course you would.”

a/n: something small i wanted put out in apology for not posting anything in a while. TT.

been thinking about diluc being a good little religious son who would absolutely never have sex before marriage with a man and then reader comes and reduces him to a cum-hungry slut for a demon🤤

Diluc who’s been saving himself before getting married to his special one, suddenly being defiled on his childhood bed, thrashing around for you to stop while you’re pushing your thick cock inside of him :( Imagine how pretty he’d sob and mumble incoherent prayers trying to convince himself that his stupid God would save him from the hell you’re putting him through :( <3

I just realized carrd is really hard to use .°(ಗдಗ。)°.

yandere childe with a himbo reader

WARNINGS: DARK CONTENT, bondage, non-con, gaslighting, degration, fear play, marking, biting, manipulation, dacryphilia, sadism, orgasm denial, yandere childe, deception, reader has piercings that he didnt know abt

**i do not support the tendancies/situations reflected inside of my (dvlboy) works inside of a real life setting. please proceed with caution.

childe was seething. he has never been one to hold his bloodlust in, but he was so tempted to use his delusion just to obliterate the woman next to you, caressing your arm while you two chatted. why couldn’t you understand the inuendoes that she keeps sending towards you?

Keep reading

Sukuna Ryoumen x top!male reader x Itadori Yuuji

cw:: threesome.|cumplay.|nicknames.|brief lap grinding.|stripper au.|feminization [cunt].

៚authors•note: Hi it's been a long time.

Imagine stripper sukuna and itadori on their knees, looking up with their tongues out waiting for the taste of your cum

"Daddy? Are you cum-"

"Oi asshat hurry up and cum would you?" You could only furrow your eyebrows at sukuna's brattiness "little shit, shut the fuck up. Brat." Your tone made itadori whimper and sukuna snort

"D-don't worry about him daddy. M' here m' gonna be a good boy." The pink-haired boy hurriedly said before sticking out his tongue afraid he might not get to taste your semen

"Tch, m' also a good-"

"You aren't. Might as well let yuuji here drink all my cum since he's being a good boy." You teased

"N-No!" The older twin whined raising his voice.

"Watch your fucking mouth. Boy." Gritting your teeth you felt yourself on edge "D-Daddy's gonna cum?" With eagerness, itadori scoot closer and angled his mouth higher. With Sukuna following his hand moving up to touch you only to be slapped away

"Watch it. I swear yuuji can have everything." Jerking your hands faster you felt yourself cumming

Looking down to watch you cum covered the two boys chins and tongues

Sukuna latches unto the tip of your cock sucking more. Pushing him away when you felt overstimulated

The two on the other hand didn't immediately swallow your cum but instead began making out playing with your cum before swallowing it

Showing both their mouths to tell you they swallowed everything

"Daddy? Fuck me." Pushing you to sit on the couch letting itadori grind unto you

Sukuna coming up to your ears to whisper words to help hardened your cock they love so much

"C'mon daddy, fuck some manners back to us, want you to go rough in my needy cunt."

Hgnnn i just read your Simeon emeto and am now going feral at the thought of bathing him after he pukes. You carrying him in your arms and sitting him in your lap while you prepare his bath. He's reluctant, but his head is still fuzzy and he can't help but to cling to you and whisper endless "thank you"s. You help him in the bathtub so he doesn't slip and gently cleans the aftermath of his episode and the various other fluids sticking to him, and you praise him for being such a good boy by letting you help him.

You rub his belly and he relaxes before looking a bit sick again, so you try to go get him something sweet for his glucose (i have no idea if angels work this way but they're made in human's image, right? So it may be something like that). Yet, he tightens his grip in your arm and begs you to stay with his stupidly cute pleading eyes and you obligue.

You wash his hair and massage his head and when you finish he's fast asleep, too exhausted to fight the fatigue. You let him and carry him to bed, giving him a kiss before starting to wash yourself.

This is so long i'm So sorry hsngsksgsjsvxsi😭 - 🍞

Wahh!! First of all don't apologize for how long this is! I love it 😳🥰

I'm obsessed with bathing as a form of aftercare (which I am not subtle about 💀). It's just so intimate!! I'll bet that during this Simeon is trying to remember the last time he was taken care of like this. He's been busy attending and caring for Luke for ages, and he's not spent much time on himself. Having someone carry him makes his heart flutter and his palms sweat. And when you start washing him down he has to hold back tears!!!

He'd look so lovestruck as you tend to him, and he can't hide it because he feels like he'll pass out at any second. He eventually does pass out, only because he trusts you so much and knows you'll continue to take care of him 🥺😭🥰

(Anon is referencing this)

Kamisato Ayato's Type (Yandere Idol!Ayato/Reader)

A/n: The CEO finally let me write “a/n” instead of “mother of Klee, Alice’s note” from now on now that the shareholder is missing! Anywaaaayysss… You look well-rested, Producer fox! What’s your secret? Won’t you tell mother Alice?

CW: hypnosis, panic attacks

Yandere 1k Idol Event

“(Y/n)... (Y/n), (Y/n), (Y/n).”

Kamisato Ayato chanted your name, voice dipping into a borderline death threat.

“My dear producer, isn’t this far enough? I am not playing games anymore. Why don’t you reveal yourself before I make you?”

You made no sound inside the closet you’ve claustrophobically folded your knees and arms to fit into. Both hands covered your mouth while your heart beat erratically– but the sensation surely had less friction compared to Ayato’s fingers. 

He chuckled darkly. “Not up to it? Oh, but what if I started counting to three?”

You bit your lip, holding back tears.

A moment ago, you saw him rip his pillows in half after realizing you were no longer sleeping in his bed. Cotton materials were littered above his azure sheets and some were swept by the wind, dangerously close to the closet you were hiding in. His elegant demeanor crumbled and you jolted at the sharp sound of torn cloth. Ayato repeatedly clawed through the bed, his breathing guttural and erratic as he fruitlessly threw the rest of the pillows away. Your name no longer sounded right to you. It doesn’t sound like it was yours with the way he mumbles it like a curse or a lost possession. 

Although his face couldn't be seen from this perspective, you can still picture his lips being uncannily spread from ear to ear. Your muscles tensed even more at the sound of his feral yet strained laughter. You don’t know where you are but based on how isolated the area was, you’re clued on a bit as to approximately where he’s keeping you hidden. 

This is not his estate. This is not any of Teyvat Production’s buildings. The answer is closer to these keywords: Grand Narukami Land Reform Program. 

You felt your heart pounding in your chest as his footsteps echoed louder– closer. Nausea started creeping in.

Be quiet… be quiet like a fox, (Y/n)…!

“Come now, Producer (L/n). Do you no longer trust me? I'll start counting. One… Two…”

—---

“It’s three o clock, sir– where have you been?”

Dressed in fine yet slovenly material, Kamisato Ayato enters the room. Looking from afar tells you what you need to know about him. Yes, he’s a byproduct of an aristocratic family who pursued an artistically sensitive path of politics, but by his smile alone, anyone can tell he's a notable outlier. 

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he stared at you. As always, his lean body stands firm, not unlike a Hinoki tree on a misty morning. This is precisely the reason why your eyes targeted his wet clothing and not his well-versed smile.

Unimpressed by his absence while you were out working for the entire day, you asked as politely as you could. You've been bombarded with tasks as of late, disastrously to the point that you even started managing the Inazuman food supplies in the cafeteria.

"Sir Kamisato, may I inquire as to why you look positively haggard?" 

The idol grins wryly at your voice before squeezing some locks of his hair near his scalp. His pursed lip belied both child-like innocence and weariness of a man without youthful aspirations. Some sweat also seeped between his fingers, which only served to amplify your distress.

Ayato averted his gaze, intent on answering you without giving too much of himself away.

"It was a difficult singing session and the space lacked ventilation."

"It's snowing." You deadpanned.

Ayato shrugged "It's a… mixture of both sweat and snow, I suppose."

You snatched the script off his hands. 

Needless to say, he was definitely not practicing a song.

"Didn't Thoma or Childe agree to accompany you?"

Before making the switch to idol work, Childe was once known as Tartaglia in the theater industry. You suspect he's the reason behind Ayato's current fixation on acting. It's not a secret that Sir Kamisato had been eyeing the barren sixth and tenth spots of the Commedia Del Arte troupe for quite a while now…

"Thoma attended a talk show with Aether and Zhongli whereas Childe was preoccupied with his training."

Archery training most likely for that man’s next athletic competition, but you're not Producer Sage so you don't particularly care. Your eyebrows furrowed. 

"Do you want to stay in ADDICKTZ longer than necessary?"

For a moment, his expression stiffened before it relaxed back into his usual languid smile.

If a well-dressed atheist quietly sits through a mass, most devotees cannot tell whether they're worshipping or attending. The same reasoning can be used to explain Kamisato Ayato's reputation. The juxtaposition of the perfect princely archetype paired with a stressed-out overachiever– that was your opinion on him the first few weeks you worked in Teyvat Productions. And you were right.  

Sir Kamisato had always been open to you about his detachment from the idol group. In his eyes, every ADDICKTZ-related activity is a mere play pretend worthy enough for him to generate fabricated happiness to fuel his agendas. His idol works are not so different from the nihonga pieces the Kamisato Clan collected throughout the generations– a beautiful artwork, but not something he's deeply involved in. His career thrived off countless facework and dramaturgical approaches in fan interactions, false but not cheap. He is what the creative director and his assistant made him out to be, and he doesn't seem content or completely dissatisfied with this arrangement.

It’s obvious that he’s not here to satisfy Ayaka’s obsession with the idol industry– he’s your boss simply because there’s a political gain you aren’t privy to know the details to. 

You'd wager a guess that this career shift likely had something to do with the Kamisato clan's land reform scandals… but you're not here for politics. Lady Yae always watches your every move to make sure you know little regarding the “real” paperwork Sir Kamisato does. 

However, you can’t help but feel as if you were involved with one of these scandals before… you just can’t remember what incident it was.

"My apologies, Producer (L/n). I will not do it again."

"As you should." You pouted. "You caused me a great deal of worry."

Ayato opened his mouth before quickly shutting it. For a supposed political heir, words had failed him. His posture resembled that of an abandoned puppy as he slouched and sighed.

You laughed softly.

Open mind, open arms– you let him hug you gently as Ayato mumbled something about his workload. You’re so used to this that you didn’t mind how uncomfortably damp his back was. This is a normal occurrence between you two. After nearly half a year, Ayato opened up about missing his sister's hug after a long day and you offered to be a substitute. You ran your fingers through his sweaty hair, feeling him breathing softly near the shell of your ear. 

“Producer (L/n)…”

“Yes?”

“I must memorize the script before sundown…”

You shook your head. How surprisingly predictable of him to bring that up.

“I won’t let you pick it up until you have a thirty-minute rest.”

“Why don’t we make this a game then?” He pulled back, a sly smile gloating just a bit to let you know he doubts you’d win. “This will be our second acting game– see which one of us can perform the script best. Win, and I’ll be the one finishing this week’s paperwork.”

As an older brother, Sir Kamisato has a habit of inventing games. The "reading game," "cursive-writing game," and "hotpot game" were all unmistakably created to discipline and make his younger sister Ayaka behave. However, she is now a young adult, and you are unquestionably much older than she is. You're not clear as to why he believed this "acting game" tactic would work.

But the “second” acting game? You’ve never read a script aloud with him before, though.

Oh, well. Picking up a script is worth trading the paperwork you were meant to be doing. 

“If it lessens my workload, I don’t see why not…”

Working for the idol industry can be very demanding, after all. If you win, you'll probably squander your spare time to snack on sweets... and work on a few chores– okay, so you're not the best at being still. You’ll probably multitask working on Ayato’s theater work either way. That, or you'd plan a new deck for your next 25-minute TCG game with him. 

He grabbed the script from behind you as his smile got bigger. Ayato handed the pages back after swiftly leafing through them and pointing at the highlighted passages.

“Scene IV – Act IV,” he said, his excitement subtly infecting his tone. “This is where my character helps Emperor Edel relax.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, confused. “I was under the impression that Hubert was Kaeya’s role.”

“Ah, I’ve forgotten to inform you but I’ve replaced Alberich since the eye incident.”

You know little about this “We Will Be Reunited” play 4/8 of ADDICKTZ are involved in but based on word-of-mouth, it appeared to be about an emperor and a retainer who had to betray former classmates to win a continental war. Seems like he wanted you to read the emperor’s lines.

He dimmed the lights to set the scene. Thankfully, only the two of you occupied his TeyPro's room. There's no one else lingering in the east wing, including Dr. Albedo's room next door.

“I see…” You muttered. “So, I shall be the first to start, correct?”

Sir Kamisato nodded. “Yes, you can begin with the ‘you think this can help me?’ line.”

You cleared your throat and repeated the phrase with much fervor.

“– I mean, I trust you Hubert, but I’d rather not face another disappointment in life again.”

Just like that, Kamisato Ayato’s demeanor shifted.

“My emperor (Y/n), I know that trusting another person isn’t easy, especially for someone like you with high status,” he spoke, voice laced with compassionate conviction. “But you have placed your trust in me, and of course, I will not let you down.”

As you listened to his delivery, you struggled to contain your grin of pride. For someone who looked ready to sleep on the floor when he entered the room, his voice carried the emotional weight worthy of becoming a professional theater actor. Hence, you decided not to comment on how he used your name instead of “Emperor Edel” for the sake of momentum. He knows what he's doing. This is the first time he called you by your first name– he's trying to fluster you.

“Hubert…” You muttered melodramatically, not knowing how the character should act or sound. “Fine, do what you must.”

“Thank you, my dear.”

You took another glance at the script and noticed that there weren't as many lines left for your character, which annoyed you. It seemed that Sir Kamisato deliberately set you up to fail. How can you win when he hasn't even gotten through one-third of his lines and you have already finished yours?

“Edel, I need you to look at me,” he spoke softly. “I need you to listen to the sound of my voice and follow my lead, understood?"

Since you weren't sure what to say in the first place, you didn't improvise any lines. You continued to sit next to him. He raised his hand near your face while he reads his lines. Your eyes naturally focus on his index and middle fingers as he points them up in the air. You don't understand the reasoning behind it, but there would be consequences if you check the script to see if that's written down. He would make up some nonsensical justification to deduct your points for this "acting game.” It's obvious. He’s not the only person in the world who can plot things like these.

“Are you still listening?” He muttered in a crisp yet low voice. 

Your eyes squinted a little in an unsuccessful attempt to focus on his hazy image. You were naturally more inclined to focus on the two fingers between your faces, struggling to keep yourself awake.

… Struggling to keep yourself awake?

He moved his fingers slowly to the left.

“My liege, the pressure you’re carrying is an unimaginably heavy burden…” He slowly shifted his fingers to the right. His voice was barely above a whisper, and you were this siren’s only listener. 

There’s a rhythm in his delivery. The charisma that his singing voice would convey remained present in his speaking voice, “even the smallest of tasks have been assigned to you– each minor inconvenience stacking up stress you do not need to carry alone. But you must continue to trust me. Focus on no one else but me and my voice alone. Only I can help you relax.”

… Were you so tired from work that this acting is actually working on you?

His fingers moved to the left again. For unexplainable reasons, your breathing wasn’t as shallow as it was earlier. You’ve made a mental note of how deeper it was compared to when Ayato first entered the room. Still, it’s too much of a draining challenge to focus on his face that you allow yourself to become absorbed in watching his slender fingers instead. You can no longer see his blue hair or face clearly.

Unbeknownst to you, your mouth was slightly agape– 

and Ayato had been clenching his other hand tight in an attempt to resist the urge to capture your lips.

He dryly cleared his throat in a nearly inaudible sound.

Ayato needs to take this slowly.

He won't repeat the same mistake twice.

“T-This… ‘method’ may not be as comfortable as I would’ve hoped, perhaps a tad bit extreme, but I assure you that it is effective (Y/– Edel.” He bit the inside of his cheek. “Please, follow my lead…”

Of course.

“Left… Right… Left… Right…”

Your eyes moved as commanded.

“Left… Right… Left… Right…”

He chanted those words thrice and more.

… Why do you feel like you’ve done this several times before?

Sir Kamisato kept talking and talking…

His features blurred and the outline of his lips and nose disappeared, but his lilac eyes were clear. Eerily clear. As if it was the only feature of his visage left. You held back a yawn. You're sloppily reminded that the room remained dark, lulling you without questioning his face’s uncanny emptiness. 

Nearly faceless. 

You blinked laconically. 

What’s going…?

“Sir Kamisato I…” You yawned, unable to keep it in for much longer. “I-I think I might have to take a break…”

Kamisato Ayato smiled, but you couldn’t see that.

“An important dimens… to the concept of hyp…. thera… is how the therap… and their …ient perceive their environment. One impor… set of beliefs the patient must hold is their concepti… of trust they have for their therapi… and the safet… that co… along… with it.”

You could no longer follow his string of words.

Was that… from the script? Or is he talking to you?…

He continued, his grin growing wider.

“It warms my heart to know that you trust me, my b…ved. Trust me enough to beli… I would receive the… lead role– trust me enough to mindlessly believe that there’s a scene in …. that requires hypnosis therapy.”

“Take a break. You deserve the rest more than I do.”

That was the only full sentence you understood.

“Promise…” You yawned again, fluttering your eyes shut. “Promise you’ll wake me up?”

He laughed.

—------

Kamisato Ayato opened the door to the closet and your heart finally sank. You gasped as a pair of empty lilac eyes towered and stared down at you. He bent down and roughly grabbed you by the arm like one of his sister's stuffed animals, leaving you with nowhere to run. Your perception of an upstanding nobleman was shattered and stepped on as his twitching hands yanked you by the collar. 

His fingertips were red. His fingertips were warm– and it was all because of the mess he made with the torn-up pillows earlier.

He found you. 

The first game concluded, and much like the second game with “Edel” and “Hubert” in the present, Kamisato Ayato won this round.

“There you are. Why, I never would’ve guessed that you’re a sleepwalker–... (L/n)...? (L/n)? Why are you…”

Kamisato Ayato, a broken boy, hugged you. You can’t hear him– you can’t breathe enough– you can’t feel his warmth– all you feel is a restricting pain in your chest that screams this was the end of the line. You could no longer function.

He can't have that. He doesn't want to see you like this.

He loves you. Don't you understand that?

Then why were you shaking?

“No. No, no– b-breathe, breathe… W-Why do you look so terrified? P-Please… “ His hands trembled as he held you. No longer from anger, but from fear.

He doesn't want to break you.

“Please don’t be scared of me, (Y/n),” he whimpered desperately.

"T-Thoma! I need help, right now!" Ayato bit his lip, as he rubbed circles on your shoulders. He doesn't know what to do, but there's only one objective left in his mind–

Kamisato Ayato needed to find a way to put you back together.

---------

He nodded, playing with your hair.

It's been months since that incident now. Thanks to Lady Yae's help, you would've likely forgotten all about it. You're back, almost brand new, and your health had became his priority.

Kamisato Ayato, idol and heir of the Kamisato Clan, will not repeat the same mistake twice.

“Promise, I won't forget to wake you up, (Y/n). After all, it seems I'm close to mastering my skills on 'E█M█ th██apy'.” 

Ayato cooed and kissed your forehead, but you were already deep in sleep to know that.

“I promise I will no longer break you, unlike last time, my beloved.”

Ansytea: thank you, 🦊 anon for joining the match-ups~ and hehe happy holidays to you as well!!!

reblog w the song lyrics in your head NOW. either stuck in yr head or what yr listening to

Breeding Mr. Aizawa, Again

FTM!Aizawa x Top!Werewolf!Male Reader

Request

Part 1

Warnings: Cunnilingus, Desk Sex, Cervix Hitting, Biting, Breeding Kink, Knotting

Words: 460

──────────────────

Aizawa was extremely lucky to not be pregnant after what happened. He started taking birth control and waited a few days to recover from everything you did, he ended up taking a break from teaching. He couldn't get you out of his mind though.

The day he comes back to class, he tells you to see him after school. You knew exactly what he wanted from you.

You walk into the room, locking the door behind you. You smile at Aizawa, who's sitting at the end of his desk.

You walk towards him, spreading his legs open. "You want more, right?" You smirk.

Aizawa looks away, embarrassed. "Yeah.."

You rip his pants off, much to Aizawa's dismay. "Do you really have to rip my clothes off?"

"It's easier." You shrug, ripping his underwear off. You kneel down, slotting in between his legs. You part his folds, licking up his already wet cunt.

Aizawa moans as you focus on his clit. "Fuck.." His body twitches. "Mm~ Like that..puppy~"

Your ears twitch at the pet name. You slip two digits in his pussy, curling them up and making Aizawa come instantly. He covers his mouth to prevent any outsiders from hearing him. You stick your tongue inside him, sucking up all the fluids before pulling away.

You pull your pants down and bring Aizawa closer to you.

"Hold on-" Aizawa tries to get you to wait but you ignore him, pushing your length into him and hitting his cervix. "Aah~!" He gasps, rolling his eyes back as he squirts on your cock. "Fuh~ wai- fuck-"

"Still can't handle it?" You tease, pulling out just enough to make him more comfortable.

He shakes his head, whimpering. "No..keep going."

You grin, showing your fangs. You grab his thighs and plunge your dick into him. Aizawa gasps, moaning loudly, no longer caring about who hears him.

"Fuck~!" Aizawa digs his nails into your back. "Please- aah~! more~~!"

You pound into him harder, making sure he won't be able to walk after this.

Aizawa shakes as he comes again, squeezing your cock. "Haah~~ Yes~!"

You dig your fangs into his neck, the same part you bit him before and making an even more obvious mark. Your knot starts to swell up, making Aizawa go crazy. The feeling has him moaning like a whore.

"Gonna get you pregnant this time- gonna carry my puppies~" You groan.

Aizawa has to stop himself from moaning your name. "Yes~! Want y- your ki- kids~~!"

You kiss him roughly as your cum spills inside him. Your movements come to a halt and Aizawa falls limp on the table, still conscious but unwilling to move.

"Round two?" You ask cheekily.

Aizawa gets the strength to slap you. "You're out of your mind."

All Yours

Lucifer/AMAB Reader

☞. . . Another kofi request filled! This was a gore request, so please heed the warning and tags! Requester (candle anon) wanted something based off the first luci gore drabble I did and wanted the reader finishing onto his heart. I hope you enjoy! (1.7k words)

Lucifer was always known for his beauty. Even up in the Celestial Realm he was Michael's favorite, the apple of his eye. Asmodeus may have been the jewel of heavens, but Lucifer was the whole damn necklace.

Even now, his halo a pair of horns and two wings shorter, he’s gorgeous. Truly he was a piece of art.

Tonight, he’s a brand new canvas. You’ve spread him wide, bound his limbs to each post on the bed with strong red silks. Your paintbrush tonight is more precise than any hair; it takes the form of sharp metal, a collection of blades sharp enough to hurt just looking at them.

You pour a glass of aged demonus from his ornate decanter, swirling it in its glass. Lucifer watched your every move, lips parting with a sigh as you sit beside him. “Drink, baby.” You support your hand under his head and lift so he can drink from the glass, acidic alcohol flowing down his tongue and warming his chest from the inside out. “So messy.” You tut, pulling the glass away and wiping the dribbles from his lips with your thumb.

“Only for you.” He says, tongue darting past his lips to catch the lingering taste. “Only ever for you.”

It makes your heart warm and possessiveness fester under your ribcage. “So sweet, such a sweet boy. So well mannered and polite.” You give his cheek a pinch and he reddens under your fingers. “I ought to reward you,” you straddle his hips, unrolling the cloth of beautiful tools. The tarp crinkles under every movement.

Lucifer turns his head and watches you pick your tools. “Aht, eyes forward, look at me,” you pull him back by his chin and Lucifer’s gorgeous red eyes lock with yours. “Good boy.” He shivers, lips parting as he stares up at you. “Do you want a treat? Tell me, does my good boy want something special?”

Very slowly, he nods. “I want you to cut me open.” He says, every word calculated and honest, like he was utterly bewitched with your entire being—controlled in your grasp like a puppet on strings.

You smile, a gentle yet wolfish smile that makes his heart beat faster. “That's what I want to hear.”

Each touch of your fingers on his chest is chilling, sending little sparks under his flesh as you make invisible lines where you’ll cut. Once satisfied, you pick up the blade.

It’s a sharp silver blade with an elegantly curved handle. The first time Lucifer confessed his desires he knelt before you, presenting the dagger in his hand like an offering to the altar of your soul. And he would be the pliant lamb you cut into.

You press the point of the blade under his collarbone and Lucifer squeezes the drop ball tighter in his fist. “Breathe in,” you press hard. “And out.” Lucifer’s deep sigh trembles as you cut in, dragging the blade down his abdomen.

It catches on his belly button and you have to take a moment to work through the cartilage. Lucifer’s breaking. He’s red in the face and trembling, biting down on his lips so hard his fangs threaten to pierce through. “Demon skin is so tough compared to human skin.” You say as a passing thought, the blade ending above his pubic mound.

There’s a poking on your ass and you move to sit on his thighs instead. His dick tents his underwear, an obscene peak tainted with his bubbling blood. “Hah, sorry,” he sighs, hot tears passing over his cheeks. “Don’t apologize. I know you can’t help being a needy little thing. I’ll just have to take care of you, won’t I?” You coo, tapping the peak of his tented underwear. Lucifer hisses, eyes clenching shut as his hips rock up.

You don’t chastise him. Instead, you resume cutting, making horizontal lines at the ends of each slice.

Lucifer’s so patient through it all, breathing heavily with each pass of your blade. Blood continues to pour in steady streams from the wounds; thick black blood that pools under his body on the tarp and stains your hands. It’s a bitter stench of pure debauchery and neither of you can get enough of it.

You set the dagger aside and grab the split skin, pulling the slabs of his abdomen aside until you can see his undulating organs below the abdominal wall. A few slices and that’s moved aside, glistening intestine and thick rib bones on display—all for you.

“So pretty, Luci.” You sigh, gently stroking your fingers over his bunched small intestine. Lucifer keens under your touch, finally, finally, making the sounds you’ve been waiting for. Truly, it’s surprising how much he can hold back when he’s determined enough. “So very gorgeous. Don’t you know that?”

He swallows shakily, eyelids fluttering with each caress of your fingers. “I-I..”

You settle back by his hips again, press your own arousal against his. “Do you feel that, Lucifer? Do you feel how hard I am for you? You did this to me- you’re so beautiful I can’t help it.”

Lucifer looks down, down past his flayed chest, down his exposed organs, down to his pre stained underwear where he sees the swell of your erection strained in your jeans. You grind against him, a little roll of your hips that has him gasping like a fish out of water. It’s unbelievably hot. Lucifer’s brain is melting into a slurry of good and more.

“I can see your heart, Lucifer. And it’s all mine, right? Your heart is mine?” Blood smears your face from where you wiped off the sweat and Lucifer swears he’s never seen something so beautiful. He nods, quickly and urgently. “Y-yours, wheeze, all yours,”

You smile, giving his cheek a pat. “Of course it is. Something so pretty is obviously a gift for me, huh?” You feel Lucifer’s cock throb against yours. “Oh? Do you like it when I call you pretty? It’s true, you’re so pretty, especially like this. Your beating heart exposed for me…such a beautiful red. Just like your eyes.” You rock your hips against him, rub your erection against his.

Lucifer’s exposed heart beats faster, contracting and expanding with fresh oxygen. “Maybe I should take those eyes next, what do you think?” You tap the bloodied blade on his cheekbone, the flat end making a sticky splat against his skin. He gives a firm shake, hot tears bubbling up into those enchanting eyes of his. “That’s ok, you need those eyes to see what I’m doing, don’t you?” And he nods, and to your delight and surprise, bats his sticky wet eyelashes at you.

You groan in pure need, rutting against him harder, enough to make him jostle under the force of your hips. “So fuckin pretty, that’s right, my pretty boy.” You lean down, sucking your face into his exposed cavity and press a kiss to his heart.

Lucifer wheezes, a loud moan tearing through his chest—ragged enough you see his organs contract and then relax. “You’re all mine, all mine. Your heart's mine too, isn’t it?” You look up your lashes at him, lips smeared with rich blood. “Yess,” he gasps, cock twitching and throbbing in his underwear. “It’s yours, it’s- fuck, all yours,” he pushes his hips up, grinds his cock against yours.

You curse, your pants far too tight and uncomfortable. “Shit, baby,” you reach down, unbuttoning your jeans as you pepper kisses over his ribcage. Lucifer audibly moans at the realization, a low whining in his throat as you push your pants and underwear down and straddle his hips. “I wanna cum on you,” you breathe, kiss up his neck with your dick in your fist. You give a few pumps, panting against the hollow of his throat. “I wanna cum on your pretty heart.”

“Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck, do it- do it,” Lucifer pleads, his dignity utterly destroyed by a pretty knife and a few kisses. He’s tugging at his restraints, yet the drop ball remains closed in his iron grip. You scoot up higher, knees framed under his ribcage. “You’re so gorgeous, Hah, so pretty and mine.”

You pump your cock, hissing with each pass of your thumb over the leaking head. Lucifer’s heart thump thumps below you, his fangs digging into his bottom lip with how tightly he sets his jaw. “Next time, I should fuck your pretty insides, huh?” You pant, pre dripping down from the head and threatening to drop onto his beating heart.

Lucifer can’t hold back the open moan at the thought, eyelids fluttering. “Fuck me,” he gasps, arching his back and pushing his chest up closer to your throbbing dick. “Fuck my heart, fuck my guts,”

So vulgar, so obscene. It makes you want to ravage him, it makes you want to tear him to shreds and put him back together to do it all over again.

Lucifer’s hands itch to be free so he can guide your cock down into his gooey insides, so he can jerk you off right into his blood pumping heart. The fact alone that he can’t touch you makes him burn with frustration and desperation.

“Shit, shit, I’m gonna claim you, I’m gonna make you mine,” it doesn’t take you long for your orgasm to bud closer, the obscene display of trust and vulnerability getting you close before you even began.

“Yours, yours- cum on me, cum in me,” Lucifer babbles, crimson eyes wide and blown as they train on your twitching cock, excitement and anticipation flooding through his veins.

That knot grows tighter, tighter, until it bursts, until your dick jumps in your hand and thick, hot ropes of cum splatter onto his open heart. And it burns on his heart, it burns so deliciously. He cums in that moment, hot wetness seeping through his underwear. He’s been claimed, and that thought makes him dizzy.

The last of your cum drips into a puddle on his frantically beating heart, mixing with the sheen of blood keeping him moist. “I love you,” he says, so genuine and whole. “I love you, I love you,” he repeats as you untie the binds on his wrists.

Lucifer brings a shaky hand down, rubs his trembling fingers over his cum splattered heart. You bite your lip, eyes wide as you watch him smear it in. “Lucifer..”

He brings his hand back up to his face- and licks the mix of blood and cum off his fingers. “You’ve claimed me,” he says with a loopy smile, so fucked out despite not being fucked at all.

“All yours.” Lucifer sighs and you couldn’t agree more.

—