#cyberratting writes stuff
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81st Batch Of Fics: 9th Fill
Husk/Angel – Part 2/2 – gentle dom/sub; dom!Husk; sub!Angel; learning to let go/get into subspace – Angel actually experiencing a first? That's fun :o
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Husk is eating him out. Again. And somehow it is even better than last time.
This time, Angel is on his back – something he is very familiar with – and doesn’t have to do anything other than let Husk play with his body. Something that is also not uncommon. But the way he does it… the way he just keeps licking him, slow and self-indulgent and humming while he is doing it like Angel is such a fucking treat-
It is driving him insane.
He keeps licking at him until he’s somehow had his fill and then he lifts up and just stares at Angel until Angel looks back down. He feels like his eyes are huge and wild in his skull. Like he must look absolutely insane. His upper hands are pressed against his mouth, trying to muffle any sounds that keep wanting to spill out of him.
Husk is smiling crookedly. The fur on his chin is soaked and glittering with pearlescent fluid. Angel stares at it, his hands slowly falling away without him noticing. His mouth his hanging open and his tongue is rolling out onto his own chin.
Maybe Husk sees it as the invitation that it is – or he just knows what Angel needs without having to be told. But he crawls up Angel’s body and plunges him in darkness as his wings blot out the light.
A moment later, they are kissing. Slow and indulgent. Angel’s arms curl around the tomcat, holding on to him like a vice. His tongue wants to do all kinds of acrobatics, but Husk gentles him down until it’s just the painfully slow drag of them rubbing against each other.
Angel’s whole body throbs. His knees are around Husk’s hips, unwittingly hindering himself from rubbing his thighs together.
He’s getting absolutely useless. He can feel his last brain cells and how they slowly stop working just because Husk is taking everything at a glacially slow pace.
Husk is kneeling above him, his paws on Angel’s ribcage between his first and second set of arms, and slowly sliding up. Over his armpits and the underside of Angel’s upper arms. The sensation is so eerily intimate, it makes Angel gasp into the kiss, head falling back while his tongue is still out, obediently offering it up to Husk.
They stare at each other as Husk gently pushes his upper arms up to above his head.
“Are you feeling good?” Husk asks him in that low rumble.
Angel nods slowly, his head swimming – but this time it seems to not be enough for Husk. “Use your words,” he orders, his voice so gentle that it takes all the sting that the command might have carried.
Angel feels… odd. Like the bed is slowly opening up beneath him and starting to swallow him up. He is feeling both lighter and heavier than he ever has. A voice answers is a hushed little “Like it” and it takes him a while to realize that it’s been his own.
“Good boy,” Husk’s voice says in the slowly encroaching darkness.
Angel’s eyes are open and he is seeing, but he is not registering anything. He is both inside his body and outside. Feeling Husk carding claws through his chest fluff and lightly tugging on it, and also thinking that that is something that is happening to someone else.
Everything is warm and prickly and good. He is calm. He’s calmer than he’s ever been. As a demon. A human. A good-for-nothing whore.
“That’s it… you’re being so good for me,” Husk’s voice whispers. His claws are carding through the fur on Angel’s belly, following the pink line down to his abdomen. “You’re perfect like this. Looking like a million bucks.”
Does he? Does he really? Angel is staring up at the ceiling, his upper arms obediently still above his head without any need to hold him down. Husk is… somewhere. Everywhere. He’s started purring and it is almost too much for Angel to handle. It thrums through his body and vibrates behind his eyeballs until he has to close them. He’s drooling and his whole body is throbbing with the need to come.
“Do you know what good boys get?” Husk’s voice answers. It’s so deep and silky and perfect. It wraps Angel up like a damn blanket. He can’t wrap his head around how that is even possible. He opens his mouth a bit wider but all that comes out is a pathetic little whimper.
He feels so shy all of a sudden; all the bluster has been stripped away in just a few short moments, leaving him open and raw like a nerve.
Husk doesn’t say any more, though. His movements have stopped as well, hands framing Angel’s hips and thumbs gently stretching his posterior hole open without touching his rim. He is waiting for an answer.
Angel somehow unclenches one of his lower arms from the bedding and puts his hand up against his mouth. He doesn’t know… he doesn’t… “I don’t know,” he whispers.
“Hmmmn… good boys get all they’ve been gagging for for days,” Husk explains patiently. His breath is tickling Angel’s little spider cock. “They get the orgasm they’ve been fiending for. They get taken care of, like they’ve been desperate for the whole time.”
That rough tongue is back against Angel’s dick, curling around it, bathing it in warm saliva before it is enveloped by the warmth of Husk’s mouth.
He’s so careful with his sharp teeth… he’s so slow and indulgent, sucking the pre-cum out of Angel and opening his mouth to let the copious amount of fluid run down to his posterior hole.
Angel feels like he is dying again… but it feels good. Two claw like fingers slide into his hole while he is getting sucked off, and everything… everything is just so good. So warm and tight and wet and good.
He arches his back, sucking on his own fingers for comfort, limbs moving restlessly… and the most heartfelt little exclamation he’s spoken in… decades, dripping from his mouth: “Oh, daddy- please-”
Husk’s voice is back; all crooning and deep. Calling him a good boy. To let daddy take care of him. That he’ll get everything he ever wanted if he just stays nice and real like he is now.
If he just lets Husk flay him open and look at everything he has to offer.
Angel muscles seize tight as he comes so hard that his ears are filled with static. He is vaguely aware of the warm pulsating feeling of cum shooting out of him and splattering against his belly before Husk can push his muzzle over it and drink it all up-
but it takes a backseat to the feeling of weightlessness. To the delicious pain of his aching, trembling muscles. To the curious emptiness of his head that feels so much more profound than the one he gets from his drugs.
He doesn’t immediately come down from the curious high he’s on, but that’s alright. Husk is there to take care of him. Making him feel nice and cozy and… safe.
He says something about ‘subspace’ later, but that doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel like something Angel could achieve.
But fuck this feeling had been everything.
And… once again he got to get off with Husk without getting that goddamn cock inside him.
It’s going to drive him insane.
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I want to see the first time Vox touched Valentino's antenna and got him horny instead of terrified. When Val's trust in Vox overpowered the memory of why he can't fly anymore.
Val has been stretching his wings out more and more, covering the both of them in a blanket. It‘s too hot, Vox‘ fans are starting to act up, but he‘s working on his phone and quite frankly he‘s been waiting for a moment like this since meeting Valentino in that rotten cellar:
Val lying on top of him, his head on Vox‘ chest, watching TV while Vox is working.
He‘s mostly quiet until suddenly gesturing languidly toward the screen with one of his arms.
„This porn is *shit*. I could do far better ones.“
Vox is immediately interested, a small spark flying between his antennae - though he keeps carefully staring at his phone.
„Oh yeah? It‘s not to your taste, I take it.“
„It‘s boring as fuck. They need whores with *personality*.“
Vox puts his free hand in Val‘s neck, scratching through the fluff there. „You got an eye for those, don‘t you?“
Valentino bristles, though only for a split second before he trills all flirtatious and submissive. „Sure, papi.“
Vox‘ hand stops briefly, then slides further up, one sharp claw rounding Valentino‘s fucked up antenna. „I could get you introduced at a few clubs. Let you see what they got to offer.“
Valentino doesn‘t answer. His languid posture has changed; Vox can feel the tension running through his long body.
He hesitates for a second before just going for it. This moment is as good as any to test some boundaries.
It‘s barely a touch as he brushes his fingertip along Valentino‘s antenna. The reaction to it is odd: a half gurgle, half trill; like Val is surprised at his body‘s own reaction.
He turns his head, chin on Vox‘ chest, staring up at him with those huge, glowing red eyes. For a fucked up demon he has no business looking this… cute.
There‘s a flush on his cheeks.
Vox pets his antenna again, watching the familiar expression of arousal relaxing Valentino‘s face, his tongue slithering out and curling around Vox‘ forearm like a hug.
He doesn‘t know why but for some reason tonight seems to be full of surprises.
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81st Batch Of Fics: 8th Fill
Husk/Angel – cont B80F2 – Part ½ – gentle dom/sub; dom!Husk; sub!Angel; learning to let go/get into subspace – Angel has trouble not slipping into a persona when he is getting nervous and excited. Husk helps him unwind.
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Husk is different than Angel had imagined. It occurs to him that he never really knew him until just recently. Like… he would never have thought that Husk would… be like this. Just look back at Angel trailing after him and extend a paw to invite him along.
Angel can feel his heart pounding faster. There’s a tremble going out to all his limbs, energy suddenly coursing through him.
“Oohh so you’re horny too, huh?” he asks with a huge grin.
Husk huffs half a laugh, glancing at him sideways. He only does a lazy ‘uh-huh’ hum, his paw steady around Angel’s trembling hands. He wants to gesticulate wildly but kind of temps down on it. Instead, his mouth is working overtime.
“I can be so good to you this time. Like really suck ya off. I could finger you too… Give ya a nice deep prostate massage. Make ya all boneless an’ shit.”
Husk unlocks his door and opens it, holding it for Angel like he’s some kind of dame. Angel gets inside, full of so much energy now that he feels his fur bristling and prickling uncomfortably against his clothes – so he starts undressing.
It only occurs to him when he’s hooking his thumbs into the elastic of his thong, that Husk hasn’t moved away from the door since closing it. The old tomcat is standing leaning against it, his thumb claws hooked into his suspenders, watching Angel with an odd expression.
“...What? You gettin’ second thoughts or somethin’? Come on, kitty-cat, it will be so good.”
There’s a bit of desperation creeping into his voice. The sudden thought that Husk might let him off after all makes Angel feel a bit frantic. People never reject the chance of a night with him, he has no idea how to handle it if Husk were to-
“I know it will be,” Husk replies easily, his deep voice rumbling through the room. He pushes away from the door and advances on Angel, extending one paw again and waiting for him to put a limp hand into it. “But you got to calm down. Why are you so jittery? …are you on drugs?”
“I…I… no. I ain’t.”
Angel hunches over a little as Husk walks past him and starts to lead him toward the bed. He follows along like a good little puppy, just staring at the back of the other demon’s head. He doesn’t know how to handle this. Husk being so… calm. For some reason he had thought he’d be flustered. Shy. Kind of virginal or some shit. Not like this. Easily commanding and oozing a calmness that envelops Angel and makes him breathe… something he had kind of forgotten to do in what feels like the past few minutes.
Husk comes to a stop in front of the bed. He turns around and peers up at Angel, another odd look on his face; deep and searching.
“Do you want to play?”
Angel exhales roughly. He can feel himself getting wet for this. “Yeah. Yeah I wanna play. Ya wanna be my daddy, Husky? Huh? Want me to be a naughty li’l-”
He’s cut off by a claw on his lips. Husk’s face is so serious that Angel can feel himself deflating, an odd feeling of… embarrassment crawling through his body.
“I can be your daddy, sure,” Husk says easily; like those words spoken with that voice from this particular demon aren’t sending Angel into a fucking cardiac arrest. “But you gotta be real with me for that. Okay? I’ll play with you all night long if you want to. But I want you to stop this little sex kitten act and be yourself. Can you do that?”
He takes his claw away again. Angel opens his mouth, then closes it, then says with a crack in his voice and his gaze sliding away to the side: “I…I dunno.”
Finally, Husk smiles. He squeezes the hands he got still in his paw. “That’s alright. We’ll just work on that. Can you lay down for me? …I want to take care of you tonight.”
Angel shudders with eager anticipation, his little spider cock starting to emerge from his hole and pressing against the front of his sheer underwear.
“Yeah…”
.o.
Angel hadn’t pegged – hah! – Husk as a talker after their last encounter, though admittedly, his muzzle had been quite preoccupied with other things at the time. Now, though, he seems to just not shut up.
That deep, sonorous voice keeps talking, washing over him just like the touches of his claws as they slide through his fur against the grain, making it lift up enough for the air of the room to tickle the skin underneath.
Do you like that? Is it okay if I touch you here? Will you sing if I do this?
At first Angel had still countered with a coquettish ‘oh, daddy~~~ you’re so good to li’l ol’ me…’ but when Husk curls his claws into the elastics of his panties and slowly peels them down his legs, commenting on the pearly pre-cum already sticking against them, Angel’s words start to die down.
He remembers the last time Husk has been so close to his crotch. That rough tongue lovingly lapping up the whole mess that so many demons had left inside him that night…
He makes a beeline for it now, too; though he is not quite touching yet. He’s more like… sniffing Angel, his breath ruffling the fur there and driving the other demon insane.
Angel must have whined or some other shit because Husk chuckles and croons: “You’re so sensitive here still… wouldn’t have thought that, to be honest.”
“I… I uh…” there are no smart replies flying around Angel’s head any longer. All he can focus on is the feeling of Husk’s voice right against his front hole and his emerged little spider cock.
“I like this… but I’ve never really had something like it to play,” Husk murmurs. It sounds like he’s more talking to himself but Angel is hanging on to every word he’s saying. His lower pair of hands is clutching at the sheets in desperation, while his upper pair is at his head, fingers sliding into his hair, looking for something to hold on to. To get that restless energy out while Husk is right there between his legs, inspecting him.
Staring at him up close. Taking his time to really look his fill and making it feel like he’s in no rush. No rush at all. He could spent hours just looking at Angel’s slippery holes and talking about how interesting they are. How much he adores them. How he wonders how Angel would react if he were to just-
And he does it. Just like that. Licking the underside of Angel’s small horn-like dick with such slow reverence that his feline tongue molds around it and all but envelops his cock.
He doesn’t even realize that he’s curled his long legs in a strangle hold around Husk’s head until he feels him carefully peeling his thighs apart with a low chuckle.
“Oh that is fun… yes, let’s play some more like that.”
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82nd Batch Of Fics: 8th Fill
Vox/Valentino – Part ½ – drugs; helplessness; intersex Val; electrostim; body writing – Val completely shot himself off with drugs and Vox is going to take advantage of the fact.
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“Oh Vaaal~~” Vox croons in a sing-song voice, sharp-tipped fingers slowly closing around one of Valentino’s ankles.
When all he gets in return is the vague twitch of one antennae, he hums thoughtfully and lets his gaze slide toward Valentino’s bedside table. There is a colorful array of bottles there, most of them tipped over and pills strewn all around with no hope of figuring out what belonged where.
Valentino fucked himself hopelessly up. Vox’ close-mouthed smile stretches until his sharp teeth are visible.
“Oh Val… what to do with you. What… to do with you,” he mutters as he curls his other hand around Valentino’s other ankle, slowly first straightening those long legs from their sloppy splay, then spreading them apart.
That motion, at least, is something Valentino is very familiar with. He chirps, small and pathetic, his red eyes opening a little to stare blearily at the ceiling. “W… what?” he mumbles.
Vox spreads his legs farther. Valentino is not wearing much. Just a cute little negligee that makes his tits look even meatier than they are. One that rides up easily, exposing his drooling pussy. His cock looks about as knocked-out as the rest of him.
Vox can count on one hand the times that Valentino’s freakish cock hadn’t been up for attention, winding like a tentacle and looking for a hole to slip into. It twitches now, lying limp in the crease of one leg, but that’s it. For now, at least.
In a way he is surprised it hasn’t slipped into that welcoming, puffy cunt, looking for the comfort of that warm little hole.
Valentino’s eyes begin sliding closed again; he looks about ready to completely pass out, so Vox sends a short, poignant spark of electricity through his leg.
Valentino’s whole body jerks, muscles spasming and his eyes opening wide in a heartbeat.
He’s not saying anything, though. He is beyond speaking. From Vox’ experience, they can be lucky if he just keeps on breathing right now and doesn’t forget to do that, too, in that dumb little moth brain of his.
“Oh, Val… you useless little pussy,” he says with the cadence of a lover crooning a pet name at their darling. He starts to crawl over him. “Though… I suppose your pussy is the most useful thing on you, isn’t it?”
He dims his screen a little, pulling Valentino’s attention. As he thought, he’s staring at him, absolutely mesmerized. That reaction is bigger than when Vox slides into him without fanfare. For now, at least.
Vox fucks him fully clothed. He does not have the time for anything else. He’s just had a peek into Valentino’s room during a break, saw his state and knew that he could get away with a quick, dirty fuck before he had to go to yet another meeting.
Valentino might not fully appreciate it now… but he will later.
Right now, he is just confused and overwhelmed and his body is probably giving him all kinds of weird signals as Vox’ dick slides nice and deep into that delightful little cunt of his. No matter how many drugs Val pumps into his system – his ripe little peach is always up and eager to be used, wrapping around Vox like wet silk and suckling him in nice and deep.
It wants to eat him whole and never let him go. That’s Valentino all over.
Vox grins crookedly. His hips snap a little faster, if only to watch Valentino’s tits bounce and his pretty, bald head loll to the side. He’s still chirping, all confused and maybe a little afraid, but his body instinctively knows that it loves what is happening. There’s a sloppy smile on his face, saliva dripping from the corner. All disjointed signals, this one.
He’s so wet everywhere; it’s not just his mouth that is leaking, his pussy is too. Vox can hear it squelching around his cock as he drives in deep and deeper, trying to find a cervix that doesn’t exist to pump his hot load into.
Val’s poison doesn’t work on Vox like it does on other demons, but with his cock drenched in it like this, it does have a certain… effect on his systems. He can feel a few stray sparks of electricity jerking through him and sparking down his spinal cord. It makes his hips jump awkwardly, ramming sloppy and out of rhythm into the plump little pussy.
Valentino chirps again. All four arms are awkwardly moving about like they are looking for the person fucking him. One of them finds Vox’ arm as if on accident and holds on weak as a kitten. He might want to defend himself on some level… but there is no chance for him to actually do so.
This is how Vox likes him best: helpless and sloppy; a drooling, submissive mess, looking upset at his own body’s betrayal. At his bottomless, mindless lust that keeps pushing Val on and on and on. He can’t escape it.
His red, guileless eyes are staring straight at Vox’ screen again without any sign that he actually has any idea what is going on.
His cock is, at least. It woke up from its stupor and Vox can feel it writhing carefully against his abdomen; leaving behind a snake trail of his poisonous pre-cum. It is so curious; moving down, looking for its favorite place and finding it occupied by cock already.
Many demons might be freaked out by it, but Vox doesn’t mind having Valentino’s freakish cock tickle his dick as it tries to find a way into that sweet little hole.
He briefly consults his internal clock. He still has a while left before his meeting – so he forces himself to slow down. Enjoy that delicious, squishy pussy wrapped around his dick. Really savor it while Valentino whimpers like a bitch and almost chokes on his own, long tongue.
Vox doesn’t help him. He lets him suffocate while he pats himself down. By the time he finds the sharpie he always has on his person, and unplugs the cap with a flourish, Valentino has managed to turn his head to the side again and spit his tongue out. It is uselessly flopping against the bedding, producing an even bigger pool of his pink-ish drool.
“Fuck, you’re so damn hot,” Vox mutters, the point of the sharpie poised just above the inside of Valentino’s right thigh. He comes to a halt, buried nice and deep inside the clutching insides of the other demon, watching him briefly surface just enough to gurgle out a confused sounding PaaAapi? before slumping back down again.
Vox’ face glitches. He slowly drags the claws of his free hand down Valentino’s belly, leaving behind thin scratches that start sluggishly bleeding after a moment.
“Papi’s right here, babygirl,” he croons, then starts humming under his breath as he begins writing, occasionally thrusting and dragging out his own pleasure as he goes.
Valentino is a tall bitch… there’s a lot of space to write on.
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80th Batch Of Fics: 15th Fill
Alastor/Vox – Part 2/2 – shibari; degradation/humiliation – Alastor plays Vox like a fiddle. :)
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“I’m going to- I’m going to KilL yoU! I’m going to riP you apppPppaAAart when I get my claws on your s-scrawny nNnneckkk, and I’ll rip those vocal chords right out of your ch-ch-ch-ch-”
Alastor elegantly drums his fingers against his chest. “My, my… but we ARE vitriolic today, hmn? I can’t help but notice that it does not stop your… member… from its unsightly excitement, though.
As so many things with you, Vox, there is no real conviction behind your words. You will say anything to please the masses but not stand behind what you are preaching. A pitiful creature. I have to admit I am ashamed that I let myself get blinded by you for so long…”
Vox’ tirade fizzles out. He hates that a part of him is actually hurt by Alastor’s declaration… and the way he said it. Like all of this doesn’t concern him anymore. Like he is no longer even interested in Vox. Like he isn’t worth more than the dirt beneath his shoe…
And fuck, why is his cock flexing now? He can feel a fat dollop of pre-cum starting to gather at the tip, tremble, then slowly stretch itself down to the ground.
Alastor clicks his tongue. His brow is furrowed. He looks honestly… puzzled, or maybe angry or some shit. Vox can’t quite make it out, it’s so fucking difficult to know what the Radio fucking Demon is thinking when he always has that fuck awful grin plastered on-
Alastor does the most curious thing then. He gets up and steps closer to Vox. Close enough that they are almost touching.
His heavy lidded eyes are on Vox’ face, watching his reaction as he… as he…
He touches Vox’ cock. The sharp tip of one elegant finger lightly nudging just beneath Vox’ glans, pushing his erection around just a little. Just enough to let him feel it.
Vox can’t help the pathetic fizzle of static briefly rolling across his screen or the little frizzled electricity sound stuttering out of his throat. He can’t help it. He can’t fucking help it.
Alastor is touching his cock. The fucking Radio Demon is touching his fucking cock and he looks like he debates whether or not to cut his hand off after this. Vox’ body convulses briefly, the lust curling through him downright painful.
Alastor nudges his cock again… and again… with the air of a child poking at some roadkill with a stick. Vox’s breathing is labored. He can’t help how his hips try to curl downward, trying to chase the touch. He can’t help how pathetically turned on he is by Alastor’s attention.
The orgasm he’s had after Alastor had come back and shamed him in front of the whole Pride ring had been the best he’s had in years. He’d rubbed it out hard and fast and had not allowed himself to dwell on it too much… but now Alastor is here and he is touching him and looking at his body’s pathetic reaction as he is strung up by his own wires and kept immobile.
“Let’s see… this might make for good radio. A little shallow diversion to the regularly scheduled screams and pleas. I think you would rather enjoy it, though. Having everybody bear witness to your utter depravity… And I can’t have that, can I? Hmmm what a conundrum.”
Alastor is moving around him; slow, measured steps as he looks at Vox from every angle. Looks at his body trembling with lust. He must be able to see how close he is to shooting his load. He simply must be aware-
“There is also a certain draw to keeping this private, however. I have to admit that I am a little curious…” Alastor trails off.
Vox has no idea what he is talking about. He can’t even see him, though he is trying; but there are limitations to what he can do and the edge of his screen keeps getting stuck against his shoulder.
And then there it is: a touch between his cheeks, a brief pressure against the tight clench of his hole and the ruthless thrust past the trembling muscle into his body, spearing him on but a single finger. The leather of the glove catches painfully at his rim though at this point it just feeds into the feedback loop that is crawling up and down Vox’ body.
He can feel his face glitching, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth and then as a viscous, electrically charged liquid from the edge of his TV’s frame.
Alastor has… Alastor is…
“What th-the- ThE FFf-fFFuuUucckkk?!”
“Interesting.”
“WHAT?! TAKE YOUR FF-F-F-FUUCKKKKKING FFFF-FFFIING- I’M GONNA GONNA GONNA GONNA-”
He is cut off by more fingers thrust into him. His mouth, that is. Alastor has complete control over his body with the way it is trussed up. Vox can taste the leather of his glove and the metallic tang of old blood as the fingers press down on his tongue, rendering him mute for the time being.
It would be so easy to just bite down, but… but…
“I advise you to simply be still now. Your stuttering and posturing is quite embarrassing, you know. You pathetic little worm. How easily you are made a slave to your nasty little desires.”
He moves his finger. It’s just a single one, but it is the immediate center of Vox’ obsession as it thrusts deeper into his body and lightly wiggles around. It is as if Alastor is searching for something, though he wouldn’t be able to feel anything through his gloves. Vox thinks. He’s not too sure. He can’t really process what is happening.
His face keeps trying to glitch but can’t really with the fingers rubbing idly against his tongue.
Apparently dissatisfied with what information he is gaining, Alastor forces another finger into Vox and spreading his hole apart on his knuckles.
Vox can feel his cock flexing, dripping more to the ground where it glows in the darkness. Shadow and light are playing off their immediate surroundings as his face keeps twitching.
“I find myself getting surprised despite myself about the utter depravity of some folks,” Alastor suddenly says. It sounds like he is just talking aloud to get his thoughts out there. His utter… disinterest in Vox’ desperation is only adding fuel to the fire burning in his chest. “How gauche you sound. How lewd. I might have been mistaken after all. This makes for very cheap audio indeed. I don’t think I could live with myself knowing I bring my listeners such sub-par radio entertainment.”
The fingers thrust deeper, twisting cruelly and, by some form of miracle or Alastor’s design, press hard and unrelenting against Vox’ prostate.
He is done for. He can’t stop the Bluescreen, no matter how much he is struggling to keep himself together.
The last he hears before his senses shut down in a big show of sizzling sparks is Alastor’s disappointed voice reprimanding him: “I will have to rethink a collaboration. I have standards after all – and you with your little toys are far beneath them.”
When he comes to again, Vox is lying on the ground, his cables an absolute mess and his body aching considerably. His memory only gives him bits and pieces of what has happened, so he painfully drags himself over to his console and slams his fist against a button.
He watches on the screen as he hangs limp from his cables and Alastor’s vines, the little space filled with the cool blue light of his Bluescreen.
He watches as Alastor pulls his fingers out of his body and wipes them clean against his hip with a pinched expression of disgust.
Before he just waltzes out of the room, he twists his head and peers directly up at the single emergency camera that had been recording, his mouth forming the words: See you.
Vox growls, head knocking hard into the edge of his desk, fist slamming repeatedly into whatever he can reach.
Lost. Again!
FUCK!
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81st Batch Of Fics: 5th Fill
Husk/Angel – hurt/comfort; double ended dildo – Angel comes back to the hotel after a rough night and Husk decides to finally make one of his dreams come true to get him into better spirits. It works.
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Angel hasn’t told Husk what’s been going down that night but the way he almost crawls into the bartender’s room, a haunted look on his face, makes him wonder.
He putters around his room, one eye always on the demon on his bed. Angel has curled up beneath the covers and is just morosely scrolling on his phone. It’s more the fact that he has barely said a word, though, that is making Husk feel awkward and worried.
He casts around for something, anything to say that could make Angel feel better, but comes up short until his eyes land on a cloth bag that’s lying in the corner of his room. He pulls a face, heat immediately crawling through his body, but… it might just work?
Husk shuffles over and grabs the bag, sticking his paw in and pulling the thing inside out before he can think better of it.
“Hey. Angel.”
Angel just rolls his eyes over to him but when he sees Husk standing there with the soft, double-ended dildo dangling from one of his paws, he rips his head around and sits up so fast that it actually looks painful.
“You gonna try it with me?!” he asks.
Husk feels so fucking stupid with that toy in his paw, hunched over and wanting to die of embarrassment, but… it kinda is worth it seeing the absolute excitement that suddenly fills Angel.
“...Yeah… let’s try it.”
.o.
Husk’s ears are folded back but not because he’s particularly unpleased about the experience. He more so wants to try and hear Angel behind him. His voice sounds so… so… so good. All soft and breathy and mewling as he keeps working himself up into a tizzy – and Husk along with him.
Each enthusiastic backwards thrust has the toy slide deeper into Husk’s guts and makes him dig his claws into the bedding. His tail is curled high in the air above them, the feathered tip occasionally tickling his own neck and adding to the odd sensations crawling through his body.
Angel sounds like he’s about to hyperventilate while Husk feels like he’s going through molasses. His whole body feels so heavy. It’s difficult to even keep up on all fours, his hole wrapped around the toy, suckling and wet.
He can feel the sweet little smacking contractions of his rim around the squishy silicone. It makes his fur stand on end and his cock feel like bursting.
Whenever he lets his head hang to stare down between his arms, along his furry belly and toward Angel on the other side, he can see how his front hole is leaking generously; a pearly, glittering webby fluid that stretches down to the bedsheets. Hell, if he can focus his eyes enough he can see that delicious little hole contracting… so hungry to be stuffed just like the other one.
“Fuck, H-Husky- feels so damn good-!” He thrusts his body backwards, spearing himself on the dildo and ramming it deeper into Husk in turn. The sensation zings along Husk’s spine like a bolt of electricity.
He just groans softly. He closes his eyes and tilts his body back into it, trying to keep up with Angel’s enthusiastic bouncing but getting nowhere near close. It’s just so… overwhelming. Especially when the fur of their thighs suddenly starts brushing together, letting them both know just how deep they have managed to fuck themselves on their toy.
“Oh shit… oh damn-! Come on, come on- I wanna… wanna kiss your hole with mine-” his voice is cracking. He sounds so fucking jazzed about it.
Husk bites into his forearm, struggling to remain quiet, cock bouncing now every time Angel enthusiastically pushes backwards, hellbent on pressing their asses together. Hellbent on getting their rims to touch. The thought makes Husk feel like his brain is overheating.
The pain from his teeth digging into his flesh kind of calms him down, but it also leaves more room for him to think about other scenarios. Just how possible would it be for him to push his cock back between his legs and stuff it into Angel’s hole? Absolutely impossible, but in his lust-addled mind it just seems plausible enough that he stops biting his arm and instead furiously licks his fur and the aching spots his teeth had dug in.
It’s a self-soothing mechanism; a tactic to try and distract himself from his imminent orgasm, guts filled with a soft, jiggly silicone cock and Angel’s cracking voice in his ears, twisting around his spine.
It’s horrible that they both like to be filled so much. Horrible, no good, bad-
“Come on, please… p-please baby c-c-cakes; I can’t do it alone, hmn? I can’t fuckin’ do this alone-”
Angel’s voice has gone so soft and small. He sounds on the verge of tears. Husk peers around one of his biceps and is shocked to find Angel is doing the same. Just two sluts staring at each other, speared on a double-ended dildo and losing their fucking minds.
At least his gamble came true and Angel looks a lot less depressed than he had earlier.
Difficult when there’s a fucking snake winding its way through your guts, he supposes.
Angel’s eyes are still locked with his. He’s stopped all movement, leaving the two of them trembling with their bellies full and their holes stretched and oversensitive.
“...Please,” he finally whines. It sounds bratty, yea… but also heartbroken; and Husk is a fucking sucker for that shit.
His tail trembles at the base, the motion moving through its whole length. He nods, feeling the tips of his ears bobbing in unison with the motion.
“Yeah,” he answers softly. “Yeah… okay.”
And he starts moving. Nervous little rocking motions pushing more of the cock into his body. Filling him inch by inch. He can feel its slippery length twisting around the turns of his intestines. It leaves him drooling with his tongue lolling out and a blessed emptiness filling his skull.
He’s too old for this. He’s no cute little fucktoy like Angel. He’s an old fucking cat that likes way too much how it feels when his furry ass touches the furry ass of this pretty spider boy.
Angel, now that he doesn’t have to do more work, is folding in on himself. Bracing himself on his shoulders, his lower arms reach back and grasp his ass, spreading what meager cheeks he has nice and open.
A lot of things happen once Husk manages to squeeze their asses together.
His tail develops a mind of its own, curling around Angel’s waist and holding on tight while they both loose their collective mind over this entirely alien, entirely wonderful, entirely overwhelming feeling.
Husk, to his unending shame, yowls like the cat he has become; just once and sharp as an orgasm pushes through him that leaves him a drooling, fucked-up mess.
And somewhere in the middle of him grinding his ass back, rubbing their cheeks together, and pumping out his load to mix with the pearly, glittery mess that Angel is leaving behind, he feels like he hears a soft, high-pitched voice chant: “Love ya, Husky! So fuckin’ much!”
He’s not… entirely sure about that one, though. All he knows is that shit paid off and Angel is a lot more happy now than he was an hour ago.
And that’s what counts.
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80th Batch Of Fics: 14th Fill
Alastor/Vox – Part 1/2 – shibari; degradation/humiliation kink – Alastor wants to make sure that Vox stops watching him at every turn, but he might just shoot himself in the foot with this one.
---
“Where is he? Where the fuck is he?!” Vox slams his fist down on the keyboard, eyes frantically scanning the screens filling the wall.
They all show every single inch of the Pride ring in rapid succession, but one notable fucker is yet to be seen. He saw him leave the premises of that stupid, fucking hotel, but he vanished in the blink of an eye and has yet to reappear.
“Where are you, you slippery little-”
“Are you talking about me, per chance?”
Vox has only a split second to register that fuck awful old-timey, staticky voice before his world is upended, as black tendrils grab him and rip him into the air. White hot pain lances through him as panels along his body are pried open and delicate cables inside are ripped out into the open.
He can feel his face glitching out, a shrill whistling noise briefly filling his audio receptors as the pain overwhelms him for a moment.
When the flare up dies down and he manages to bring his surroundings back into focus, he’s hanging awkwardly, helplessly in the air, bound by his own cables. His information center around him is dead, not a single spark of electricity running through it. All the light in the immediate space is coming from his own face, wildly moving about and causing the shadows to dance as he tries to find his bearings.
All in all, the whole maneuver has taken maybe ten seconds at max. It was swift and smooth and so Alastor that it immediately brings his blood back to a boiling point.
Alastor.
That prick is standing an arm’s length away, fingers tapping jauntily on the crown of his cane and a satisfied smirk plastered across his face.
“How the… how the fuck did you get in here?!”
Alastor’s smile widens. It looks like it could split his goddamn head in two, which is not that bad of a look, to be honest. He takes a step closer, lifting his cane and putting it beneath Vox’ screen to tip it up a little.
“That is a good question, is it not? I think I will keep that little secret to myself. It is quite… useful if I need to talk to you. Like I do now. So prick up your… ears, I suppose, and listen up good, hmn?” He does not wait for an answer – which would have been filled full of rage and vitriol anyway – and continues: “I very much do not appreciate you snooping around behind me, my dear… friend.”
He speaks the word with such gusto that it makes Vox shiver. He tries to pull away from Alastor’s cane, but that only manages to make him lightly rock inside his own bindings, sending more shockwaves of pain through his systems.
“I do neither enjoy the feeling of your little zippy-zaps, nor do I like your eyes constantly on my person. It makes things a tad difficult. You have to understand that I am a busy person and do not have time to constantly play with you, yes?”
Vox grits his teeth, body feeling hot and prickly from the condescending tone Alastor has chosen to take with him. It is as if the asshole is talking to a damn child.
“I am going to crush you beneath my heel once I get my hands on you,” Vox hisses at him.
Alastor cocks his head, eyes briefly flicking over Vox’ person.
“What heel, my friend? You are quite exposed at the moment, I assure you.”
Vox halts at that. It takes him a moment to realize that Alastor is… right. What little clothes remain on his person are ripped to shreds, probably during the brief attack that had so thoroughly incapacitated him that he is in danger of blue screening from the sheer rage just thinking about it.
Vox looks at Alastor – and Alastor looks back at him, his head steadily starting to cock to the side yet again, heavy lidded eyes sliding from Vox’ face down along his body.
There’s a twitch in his brows and his sharp grin looks a little stiff as he says: “Forgive me for my ignorance, but this seems grossly unsuited for the current situation, does it not?”
Vox has no idea what he is talking about until he starts to extend his cane, his facial expression pinched and on the verge of downright disgusted. Vox knows what he is talking about just a split second before the end of his cane nudges his cock slightly.
He’s sporting a fat erection. Had been the whole morning during his search of this very fuckhead currently standing just a claw-swipe away.
Heat suffuses him and the faint smell of burning plastic starts to permeate the air.
Vox reacts in the only way he knows how: by aggressively pushing forward.
“Oh fuck you, you old timey piece of shit! Just because you can’t get it up anymore- I mean it’s not because of you, don’t get it fucking twisted, okay?! I’ve been pent up because Val’s been out and not putting out, and-”
“Disgusting. You really are excited right now, are you not?” Alastor’s voice is quiet. He speaks like he has not heard a word that Vox had said, his eyes still trained on the long, vaguely curved cock.
It’s one of Vox’ favorites; ribbed along the shaft and the tip glowing a cool blue ooze of pre-cum whenever he gets excited like he is now.
Vox hates his reaction go the asshole. How electricity fizzles through his body and he can feel a small glitch forming on his face. He turns his head away so Alastor wouldn’t see, but his voice his already beginning to get away from him.
“It’S noT bEcause of You!”
“Hm.” Alastor doesn’t say more, but there is so much in that derisive little sound, letting Vox know that he’s been way too fucking transparent, that he’s about to combust.
He begins to struggle again, trying to rip himself down from the vines holding his cables like a puppet master. He only manages to get himself even more twisted up, his heels almost touching the backs of his thighs and his arms twisted more behind his back. He’s a neat little package at the complete mercy of the Radio Demon.
The thought comes straight out of his nightmares.
Alastor nudges Vox’ erection once more with his cane before pulling it away and lightly tapping it into the palm of his hand. His expression is one of… mild entertainment at best, and his next words prove just that: “I had been planning on a nice breakfast with an old friend of mine, but I might have to postpone that to see where this farce is going.
It interests me: just how far are you depraved animals willing to go for a kick? How long will you keep this pitiful little display-” here he jerks his chin in the direction of Vox’ desperate erection, “up, I wonder. I had known you to be pathetic, but this is a quite fascinating new low that I am willing to explore instead of a truly delightful little dinner date.”
Vox just stares at him, horror slowly dawning on him as he realizes just how deep he’s in shit right now; especially feeling how obediently his body reacts to Alastor’s undivided attention.
Alastor huffs a little laugh. A black chair materializes behind him and he sits down without looking for it, crossing one leg over the other.
“Well then. What show are you going to offer me today, Vox, dear friend?”
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78th Batch Of Fics: 10th Fill
Alex/Horse – Stardew Valley – Part ½ – strapped to the underside for a few hours; body inspection; DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT – Right what it says on the tin. It's the continuation of a fic posted elsewhere, but you don't need that to enjoy this one.
---
His play in the barns has left Alex nice and relaxed and absolutely prepared for what is about to happen for the next few delicious hours. He does not even bother putting on clothes anymore; just gets into his husband’s work boots which he took this morning and moves out into the farm on wobbly knees with watery cum running down the insides of his thighs.
What a morning workout. Just a few months ago he would never have gotten this kind of exercise in. But now?
The horse sees him even before his husband. It is wandering somewhere close by, going about its business and waiting for whether the farmer decides to jump up on short notice, but the moment it sees Alex aimlessly wandering around, naked and erect, it comes over to bully him.
It’s as easy as that. The beast is more intelligent than it has any right to be and it knows exactly who its bitch is and what it can and can’t do to her.
Alex is a manly man but for these animals? Shit, he’ll put on lipstick and a wig if they’d love that more.
The horse is rumbling through its chest, nosing against Alex’ cheek and starting to push him with its body. It’s big and warm and gets him sweating even more than his previous exercises in the barn. He nervously curls his arms around its neck and just holds on while it tries to bully him into kneeling down for it.
It’s a pushy animal, that’s for fucking sure. Only with him, though, it seems – for his husband, the little stallion is a perfect gentleman, not putting a damn hoof out of line.
That’s alright, Alex supposes. He’s not too familiar with animals in general; he never gave much of a fuck about them other than Rusty who he brought to the farm with him once he got out of his grandparents’ house and started living with the Farmer.
They probably need someone they can respect or something, and he’s not that person. That’s alright, too. Really, it is. Actually, it gets him pretty hot to think that all these animals see him as someone that is beneath them. Just a convenient hole for them to plug whenever they get horny.
A year or two ago, before his husband moved to Stardew Valley, Alex would have probably thrown a tantrum at the mere thought of someone or something thinking they’re better than him but… he supposes he has grown in that regard. He just feels calmer and happier these days without the imagined pressure of his deadbeat father at his back.
Just when the horse starts getting a bit rambunctious and trying to rear and mount him up forcefully, a short whistle cuts through the thickening morning air and both the horse and Alex turn to watch his husband lightly jogging towards them.
He is already covered in dirt and profusely sweating and the Summer heat has barely even started yet. He pulls his straw hat off and wipes at the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand while eying Alex up and down.
“You up for more work?” he asks instead of inquiring if Alex has done what he’s set out to do earlier. It is blatantly obvious what transpired in the barn.
Alex nods but it feels like that isn’t enough of an enthusiastic answer, so he blurts out: “Yes!” and after a second hangs on a quick: “Please.” Because sometimes his husband likes to play rough with him and wants him to jump through all kinds of little hoops to finally get what he wants.
That’s okay too. More than that. Alex finds that little gets him hornier than the Farmer being strict with him. Maybe grabbing him harder than he needs to, leaving bruises behind that will stay for a few days and feel so incredible whenever Alex presses his fingers into them to feel the deep ache that they radiate.
The Farmer does not react immediately. He has his hand on the horse’s neck, causing it to stand there sweet as a lamb. Instead of letting Alex know if he did enough or wants more of him, he just looks him up and down again, gaze lingering on the mess dripping down the insides of his thighs or the desperate erection straining toward him.
“Show me.” His voice is conversational, as if talking about the weather. There is a small smile on his face, oddly reassuring as Alex feels all the air leaving his body and his blood starting to pump faster through his veins.
On legs that feel not like his own anymore, he turns around slowly and bends forward, his grasping hands reaching back and pulling his cheeks wide apart to let his husband see his hole; the rim swollen and dark red from the fucks he received in the barn.
His husband’s rough fingers push into him without hesitation, scissoring apart and testing out just how soft and receptive his body is for what he has planned for the rest of the morning, it seems.
He hooks his fingers, pushing them rudely against Alex’ prostate until saliva is dripping from his open mouth and his knees feel like they’re about to buckle. Just when he wonders how long the Farmer will drag this little inspection out, the fingers are pulled out again, leaving him bend over and whole lewdly gaping.
The verdict is in his favor, thankfully. “Yeah, you seem ready. Alright, come here.”
The Farmer gets the special harness ready. The horse dances around on the spot some, obviously aware what is about to happen and very excited for it all. As always it is awkward to get Alex strapped into it but eventually he is beneath the horse’s belly, arms and legs around it like he is hugging the thing while his husband just casually makes sure its quickly extending cock is in the perfect position to push into Alex’ sloppy, waiting hole.
It certainly is bigger than the other cocks he’s had this morning but it’s also absolutely not the first time he’s taking it. Alex relaxes into the sensation of getting spread out nice and wide, feeling the horse’s hips hunch down to fuck deeper into the pussy that’s been bound to its belly.
Once it’s deep enough that it won’t just accidentally slip out again, the real fun starts as the Farmer clicks his tongue and has it follow him back to the spot where he had been working earlier, thick saddle bags slung over its back so he does not have to run back and forth to the shipping bin as he inspects the crops and pulls out anything that is ripe.
He doesn’t pay any more attention to Alex; as if him being a living cock sheath for his horse is an everyday occurrence. Like it is normal.
And that makes this all even hotter.
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82nd Batch Of Fics: 10th Fill
Lucifer/Adam/Lilith – Hazbin Hotel – everyone intersex; nervous/shy Adam; deflowering kink – Adam is being *selfish*, not letting Lilith have the same experience that he had. So Lucifer helps the both of them out.
---
“N-No, come on! Stop… stop squirming away!”
“It’s not going to fit! It’s not going to fit!! Your dick is too b-big… or something like that? Like… we should wait and see if there wasn’t a m-mistake or something?!”
There’s a stunned silence after that. Lucifer winces where he’s been hiding behind a tree. He glances around it to see Adam and Lilith kneeling on the grass of Eden. Adam has turned his head and they’re just staring at each other in quiet shock over Adam’s insinuation something They made could have been faulty.
He’s still on all fours in front of her, but he’s squirmed as far away as possible to get some distance between his pussy and the desperately swollen tip of her cock.
“What did you-” Lilith starts. She does not sound upset… more intrigued, really, but Lucifer decides to jump in before the situation can escalate even more.
“H-Hey there, guuuuys! What are you up to? Ooohh procreation, huh? That’s fun! That’s fun! And changing things up, I see! Wonderful! Teamwork! I love it!”
He is clapping as he makes is way toward them, their heads having swung around to stare at him in surprise. There’s not an inkling of shame to see – of course – despite their positions, but Adam’s face closes off and Lilith’s brows furrow.
“Well, we are trying at least. But he keeps moving away and I just keep slipping off.”
She looks down at her cock. There is a line of slick still connecting the tip to Adam’s slit. Even from his position Lucifer can see how pretty it looks; the lips are plump and pink; just the first dusting of fur starting to make it look like the juiciest peach. They’ve just been in Eden for a few days, after all. There’s not been a lot of time for that kind of… growth.
“It’s just not going to fit!” Adam defends himself quickly. He looks to Lucifer for help, and he almost buckles in light of those big brown eyes and Adam’s guileless expression.
He sure can do ‘his stuff’, Lucifer has heard of the demands he’s made of Lilith already, but it is easy to forget when he looks so… pathetic.
“You just need to properly try it! I wasn’t a fan the first couple of times either, but once things get going it’s… alright?”
Lucifer nods, a huge placating smile on his face. He claps his hands together again.
“You know, she is right! We all need to just put in a little bit of effort! Just figure things out, alright? This is going to be fun!”
.o.
Adam does not look like he believes Lucifer. He keeps struggling even as he’s on his back and Lucifer sits on his arms stretched out over his head. His cock is only half-hard, something that is new for Adam who has been running around with an erection pretty much the second he found out how good it feels to get off.
Honestly, he can understand that Lilith wants a turn as well. She must be getting awfully sore by now.
She has shuffled between Adam’s thighs and is slowly stroking her cock while peering down at his pussy. Lucifer has to admit she looks awfully cute with her tongue clenched between her teeth in concentration as she guides herself toward that alluring little slit.
Adam shakes his head desperately. “I… it’s not going to fit, guys! I tell you! Come on, just… we tried it the other way around, okay? That works. Obviously it’s meant to be that way. Like… Hellooo? It’s been good the way it is, okay? Just…”
Lilith starts to drag her tip against him; from bottom to top and back down again, teasing his labia apart until she can nudge up against that tender little hole.
Adam is sucking air through his clenched teeth as if she was already breaching him. He starts to tense the muscles of his belly, trying to curl his hips up and away but Lilith’s hands shoot out and grab him before he can move much.
“Nuh-uh… don’t be like that,” she mutters. Her voice is low and throaty and makes Lucifer feel hot under his collar. He stares at her while his hand nervously pets through Adam’s thick, unkempt hair.
“Come now, Adam. Aren’t you curious how it feels? Don’t you want to be equals? It’s just fair, really.”
Adam’s cheeks are cherry red with anger and agitation, his eyes darting around nervously as he hisses: “We’re not-”
But before he can finish that unfortunate thought, Lilith finally starts to properly push forward.
Adam tilts his head back, a strangled whine slithering from his straining throat. His legs clamp around Lilith’s hips but she is undaunted.
Eyes glassy, she can only stare down at that sweet little peach she is slowly spearing on her cock. More and more with little rocking motions of her hips that driver her deeper into Adam who is, in Lucifer’s opinion, just overly dramatic.
Lilith hadn’t made half the ruckus, even though Adam had been very close to suffocating her beneath him, he’s pretty sure…
“You can do it,” Lucifer croons gently, not really paying too much attention on Adam- until he hears a soft little noise that actually sounds like a sob.
His head jerks down, chin hitting his chest, looking at Adam’s face. He has his bottom lip clenched tightly in his teeth and his eyes are brimming with tears as he stares down his body.
“H-Hey,” Lucifer mutters, a little taken aback at the reaction. He grasps Adam’s cheeks with small hands, thumbs swiping against his skin. “It’s alright. Does it hurt? Hmmn? Do you want her to slow down?”
Adam jerkily shakes his head ‘no’. “I-It doesn’t hurt,” he mutters.
Lilith glances up at the both of them through her bangs. Her eyes are glassy, mouth open and wet and plump looking as she takes a moment to brace her knees better against the ground, then rolls her hips into Adam as if she’s done it a million times before.
Adam gurgles, back arching. It must ache deep in his belly, but the odd pleasure spreading throughout his nervous, twitching body, obviously overrides that feeling.
Still, it does not mean that he’s not being petulant about this the whole time; whining and awkwardly, weakly fighting against his first ever breeding.
Lucifer is half sure that he only does it because he hates not being right. For having been alive for just a few days, Adam’s personality is just so big and vibrant.
Despite his whimpering and acting as if he’s being tortured, his cock has perked up quite significantly and is growing eagerly the more Lilith gently fucks his little gash on her cock.
After a while Adam can’t help his throaty little mewls of pleasure, his tongue hanging out onto his chin, drooling as he strains his head up to stare down; just trying to catch a glimpse of his poor hole stretched around Lilith’s cock.
Lucifer swallows thickly and turns his head away. He can’t look at either of them. They’re so very lovely in their own ways. Oh, how dangerous they are.
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