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ink-the-artist · 8 months
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greenandsorrow · 2 months
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the price for misbehaving (i)
Alastor in the rut x gn!reader
WARNINGS; 18+ below cut, reader with female parts, deer!demon!reader, doe!demon!reader, breeding!k1nk, primal instincts, premature ejaculation, horniness & hormones, mentions of deer mating season, dry humping, cr3am p1e, penetrative sex, marking & biting, masturbation, friends to lovers, very descriptive, smut with emotion, corn with plot, fictional man being pathetic
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Banners from; @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics
Please do not repost or directly copy my work and if you take inspiration for something similar don't forget to credit me.❤️
I somehow always manage to write more than originally planned, so this is big. Also, this is my first time writing a gender neutral reader I'm still learning.
my original idea ~following part~
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Alastor is the radio demon. You have no clue how he manages to behave like he's the epitome of etiquette and a true gentleman, while also having the reputation of one of the most dangerous citizens of Hell, an overlord, a sinister killer and a cannibal.
Alastor is your friend. You fell in Hell three decades after him, but the fact that you're also a deer demon seemed to get him interested in you. His smile is less a sign of dominance and more one of sympathy around you. What's more, the radio demon is a tad bit protective when it comes to you. You'll never know it, but Alastor has his way of keeping you safe, discreetly pulling the strings, luckily for your sake.
He had been missing for years and when he had come to your door, big grin, shiny hooves and polished cane and had told you about the "Hazbin Hotel" you hadn't questioned much. It was weird that someone like him would back up Lucifer's daughter on such an idealistic plan, but with the extermination being a constant bane in your life, you had agreed heartily. You had wrapped your arms around Alastor's lean frame in a never recorpirated hug and you'd been off to your new place of residence.
You like the hotel. You and Niffty are old friends, the barman is a familiar face and Charlie is thrilled to have you here. The other residents have been no trouble to you, so you've managed to adjust to your new lifestyle no problem.
Let's not forget one thing though, you're all sinners and Alastor is ten times the amount you are. This comes with consequences for him. Alastor is bound to face an eternal struggle against his animal side, a struggle that he's been destined to lose. According to Angel, the radio demon you call your friend would identify as asexual had he been born later on Earth. But even with that, the urges he has to experience during the rutting season can't be prevented. You're still unaware your friend has to go through this.
But that's Alastor's price for misbehaving.
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It's another evening at the hotel.
Charlie and Vaggie are on a date and that means no planned activities for the rest of you. You like the peace and quiet. Your deer ears are lowered in concentration as you're sitting on the couch of the lounge area, reading a book which has turned out to be a sick and twisted edition of Pride & Prejudice.
Alastor's been very distant since the beginning of autumn. More than usual. It's almost October now... and it has peaked your interest why he has been spending whole days locked up in his quarters. Sometime during September, you two had been chatting merrily about jazz, when all of a sudden his pupils had shrank and he had let out an uncharacteristically shaky sigh. You remember how his breathing had sped up and he had smiled politely before vanishing into thin air.
You're about to stand up and go to your room, when your ears practically perk up at the sound of static. You know this sound... and even though it usually means bad news, you look up and give the source of it a little smile. "Oh, hi Al..."
Alastor's antlers begin to grow, but he can control himself for now. The rutting starts hitting him with a new wave of frustration and it's getting worse now that he's in your presence.
"My favorite y/n! What are you reading my dear?", his grin and confidence hide how vulnerable he feels in this state.
"Charlie gifted me some of her old books and-"
"Oh Charlie! She is a gem, isn't she?" Alastor suddenly leans to the side, as if trying to scratch something out of his hair. His face quickly returns back to its normal grin... but he also begins to scratch his arm.
You chuckle awkwardly. Why is he looking so irritable?
"Well, she's so nice, I can't disagree with you there... and I'm glad she finally decided to take some time off to spend with her girlfriend." He laughs, showing off his sharp teeth as you initiate in the small talk.
Alastor can feel a voice deep within calling him to give in and claim you, breed you 'till his hunger is satisfied. The radio demon's expression fades to an empty, dull stare, as his instincts fight against him. Now you're feeling uneasy and you shift in your seat.
"Ah- sorry dear. Got caught up there, I forgot myself." Alastor takes a quick breath, his eyes narrow as he struggles to stay in control. "Don't you worry y/n! I'm certainly quite harmless."
He's in full rutting mode, his voice starts becoming breathy, the animalistic urges taking over. It's only getting worse as he stands close to you, the hormones increasing his urge to be near you, to make you his and his alone-
His voice is hoarse now and his breathing is heavier. "Have you seen Niffty by chance?" His ears move as if they're itching him.
You clear your throat and try to keep your curiosity regarding his behavior at bay. "I'm afraid I haven't, she's probably killing bugs somewhere..."
Alastor's expression shifts to one of pure annoyance. To your oblivious so far mind, Al is probably just pissed off at something. "Well then, if you happen to see her, do tell her she better not disturb me at my room... and don't you dare forget it my dear!"
"I- I won't."
His pupils almost completely disappear as he stares at you and his mouth curls into a snarl with his yellowish teeth out. He has a hypnotic effect on you, you're beginning to feel lightheaded being near him. He takes a step back, moving a safe distance away from you, because he feels like he's gonna launch on you at any given moment. Alastor is getting tired of trying to maintain his composure around you.
He hates how shallow his breathing has become, how the urge to take you has become too much for him to bear. A low growling noise escapes him. Alastor watches you as you resume your previous activity of reading. Humiliated from his lack of control and frustrated from the stinging sensation in his loins he slips away from the lounge.
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Alastor is alone now, his eyes wild with lust and desperation as he looks around his room in a frenzy. He grabs a pillow and starts rubbing his groin against it. He feels like his body is melting from all the heat... he can't help but imagine the pillow is your backside.
"Oh~", he breathes out raggedly, his inhales shallower and shallower as his imagination toys with him. You'd look so delicious in the place of the lifeless pillow... Alastor's heart is racing and his antlers have grown sharp and tall on his head. He is overwhelmed, being rather sexually unbothered the rest of the year has made his shaft extra sensitive .
...why him? Why does he have to go through this rutting thing? It makes him feel powerless and he hates it...
Alastor groans in desperation. He squeezes his eyes shut, imagining your soft skin sliding against his body... He thinks of your cute fluffy tail. You get all your clothes tailored so that there's space for it to protrude... he always tucks his in his suit pants...
In a fury, he takes off his coat and crawls on the bed, placing the pillow between his legs. He's in all fours as he humps it like a real deer.
He keeps growling, the sound mixing with static. He can't stop thinking of you- the perfect mate... another deer. Alastor's mind is playing out all these amazing things, your smile and your voice, your butt, your ears that match his own... and your neck that he'd definitely mark with his teeth if he was ever given the chance.
Alastor is in a trance. With shaky hands he curses himself for, he reaches down to his crotch and takes out his cock. His tip is flushed and swollen and he hisses as he continues to push his hips against the pillow. The deer demon grunts softly, his hips moving involuntarily with restless abandon as he pretends to be mating with a partner.
"Take that... oh~" Alastor's cock throbs painfully, desperate for release. The pillow has been providing him with some much needed friction the last few weeks, but he knows it soon won't be enough to satisfy him. His red hair is sticking to his forehead and he's panting so much, chasing his release with a desperation he'd consider pathetic, if he could focus on anything else than his tightening balls.
Alastor continues to rub against the pillow and the motion makes his deer tail slip out of his suit pants. He can feel his body heat up even more, sweat beading on his forehead as he approaches his climax.
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Your curiosity has gotten the best of you. You can't concentrate on your book and all you can think of is Alastor. In any case, the other residents of the hotel are busy doing their own thing, so there's no one stopping you from walking all the way to Alastor's rooms. There's static coming from his bedroom, but what really intrigues you are the groans... they're rather guttural... You assume maybe he hunted down an animal and he's devouring it? This has to be it...
On the other side of the door, Alastor is shaking with desire and his heart is pounding. The smell of you that he assumes is part of his fantasy is driving him insane, as he is almost ready to release a torrent of hot cum on his pillow.
"Alastor?", you knock on the door.
This sudden surprise almost causes Alastor to fall over. He quickly covers his twitching member and throws the pillow away from him. One would expect him to feel embarrassed, but his first thought at being caught red handed is to kill you. Luckily for you, it's just a thought.
"Al? It's y/n. Can I come in?"
The radio demon's face contorts in desperation as he realizes how unsatisfied he feels. His hips are still rocking back and forth slightly, despite his attempts to control his body.
Why did you have to pay him a visit NOW? He was so close to finding relief...
Alastor has become desperate and not to mention agitated. What if you smell his arousal in the air? What if you look down and see the outline of his dick in his pants?!
He groans and shifts uncomfortably. The demon closes his eyes for a moment as he tries to even out his breathing.
Eventually, he shakes his head and walks to the door. He has fought against mighty overlords, he shouldn't hesitate to face his harmless friend just because he is in the rut.
Alastor doesn't want to admit it, but he most definitely is in breeding mode. Proof of that... the moment he opens the door for you, your smell becomes so strong to his heightened senses that he almost cums in his pants from it. Your friend swallows a groan.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit my dear?"
Taking in his appearance, something is definitely off to your inquisitive eyes. You notice how he's only in his shirt and vest, something truly rare for the Alastor you've come to know. His bow tie is crooked and the cherry on top... you can see his tail! It's red like his ears and... moving? You wonder why. Is he in musth or something? you joke in your head.
"I was just bored in all honesty... Everyone is occupied with something. Um... you look... sick?"
"Ha!Ha! Don't be absurd y/n! You can't get any sicker than you already are in Hell!" he can't hide the slight edge from his voice. He claims he is fine, but the look on his face screams otherwise.
Alastor's temperature keeps rising, his body is so sensitive and without realizing it, he neglects to filter his voice.
"Would you like to come in?"
Your eyes widen and you look at him with genuine surprise clear on your features. He quickly catches up that he screwed, but lets it go, the shivers he's starting to experience as his unattended cock is asking for some action having gained all his focus.
The air in the room is thick and you begin to have second thoughts about your decision to come here, but it's too late for that, so you just walk in Alastor's bedroom. His quarters are always clean and intimidating like their occupant. Still, you like coming here, he's never been hostile towards you and if anything, dancing with Alastor or spilling some tea with him has always been part of your routine here at the hotel.
"Wanna dance?"
"You know I always do." Alastor manages to keep his smile and composure despite the sweat running down his back.
The jookbox starts playing on its own and you casually walk closer to your years long friend. Since he's always been much taller, you place your hands on his chest, while he wraps his own around your waist.
Alastor's lips start tingling as he looks down at your exposed neck. He bites the insides of his mouth until he tastes blood, he can't allow himself to think about you like that.
You sway back and forth in the rhythm of the old timey tunes, inevitably rubbing against him. The new found friction has him biting down on his tongue and clenching his fists behind your back until his nails are piercing his palms, otherwise he'd be howling out in despair.
Immersed in the songs you love so much, you unconsciously shift even closer to your fellow deer demon, but he harshly jerks away from you, his expression growing panicked. "H- haha... I c- can't let you d- do that my friend!"
You frown. Why can't you dance with him like you always do? ...and did the radio demon just stutter? You sigh at his lack of cheerfulness and look down.
Your now downcast gaze gives you a nice view of his... crotch area... and the said area has a raging bulge. Your first thought is to touch it and indulge in the attraction you've always felt for Alastor, but the way his antlers are growing right now and the static that's peaking up again... makes you turn to leave.
Long fingers wrap around your wrist in an instant and when you turn back at him, his eyes have changed.
"The song's not over dear y/n.", he says in the same strained tone and you swallow.
"R- right... my bad."
He has you pressed tightly against him in no time and he's swaying with you almost like he's on autopilot. And you can now feel his unbelievably hard erection against your lower body. Alastor grunts softly, his smile faltering as his cock keeps throbbing painfully within his pants, desperate for release.
The demon's eyes wander over you, taking in your form. He knows he has to maintain some semblance of control, but his hormones are off the roof. Without realizing the inappropriateness of his actions, Alastor reaches out to touch you, his fingers grazing the skin of your cheek. The demon's cock throbs even harder at the contact, leaking pre-cum in his underwear.
"You're so beautiful..."
Heat pools in your belly and your face flushes at his simple comment. He's a charmer, but that's new. His monocle slips down slightly as he leans in close, his scent of musk and arousal surrounding you.
Alastor's hands move to your hips, pulling you impossibly close. His eyes lock onto yours, filled with lust and a primal need. He presses his hips against yours and you can feel his clothed cock twitching eagerly.
His monocle falls to the floor as he loses himself in the rutting.
"Al- what's happening?"
Before you can question his unusual behaviour any further, Al presses his hardened length against your stomach with intent. A mix of frustration and pleasure is clear on his features.
To say you're surprised would be an understatement, but you don't stop him. You watch in awe as your bricked up friend loses himself to lust and his need to mate.
Your innocent dancing moment has turned into him dry humping you. He releases a guttural groan, too far gone to care about composure.
Alastor begins to grind against you faster, mimicking the movements of a rutting deer. His grip tightens around you, his need growing stronger and overwhelming. The bulge in his pants keeps pushing insistently against you, but you're so stunned by this turn of events that you grab him by the arms and take a step back.
Alastor's eyes flatter open and for a moment... he snaps out of his blurry state of mind. He straightens and clears his throat. He then gives you a stern look, with his ears lowered.
"Get out."
"B- but we were-"
"You don't want to make me repeat myself."
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The moment he's alone again, Alastor works the buttons of his dress pants in a daze, freeing his swollen cock. A low growl rumbles in his chest and the deer demon is convinced that if he doesn't cum in the following minute, he's going to die a second time. He keeps making soft sounds, his body aching with the need to mate.
He had you right here, but he can't bring himself to be so vulnerable in front of someone other than himself.
What would Vox say if he found out that Alastor is forced to go through a mating season like some fucking animal? Why does the price of his sins have to manifest into some primal need to breed?
"Fffffuck!"
His mind gets fixated on the ache between his legs.
With an animalistic sound of pure lust, Alastor reaches down and wraps his fingers around one of his heavy testacles. He squeezes it gently, feeling his warm seed oozing out his slit. He leaks copious amounts of pre-cum on his crimson bedsheets. The radio demon watches, transfixed by the sight of his own seed dripping down the length of his hard dick. It's a powerful aphrodisiac for him and he can't help but imagine it spilling into you instead.
His cock twitches in anticipation and he gives in. Every day since the rutting season began, he has been trying to suppress his instincts and today has been no different, if anything, your presence made his hormones go even more nuts... and you should be happy you're not carrying his fawns by now.
Alastor begins to stroke himself, legs spread and sweat making his clothes stick to his body. His breath catches in his throat as his hips involuntarily back into his hand. The tips of his claws grow slightly and he's jerking himself off at a punishing pace now. Alastor's groans turn into pleasured whimpers as he arches his back, driving his erection deeper in his hand.
What would it feel like to finish inside you? To make you come... To have your heat contracting around his rock-hard member as you milk him past the point of no return?
"Oh- ...agh- y/n..." He's murmuring things in unknown languages, but it all comes back to your name.
Alastor's hips begin to thrust forward in time with his strokes, seeking release from the torment of his lust. He snarls and growls in a throaty manner. He physically can't take it anymore, his balls feel like they're on fire...
The radio demon's eyes roll back in his head, the pleasure is intense, but it's only fueling his desire for a real partner more. His fingers are sliding up and down his sensitive shaft and he can feel himself getting closer, but he knows that's not enough. Al's breath has become ragged, his monocle forgotten along with his pride somewhere far away... his vision is blurring...
Feeling himself nearing the edge, Alastor grits his teeth and pushes through the pain. His muscles tense... and then, he finally comes in a powerful burst of pleasure, shooting thick ropes of cum across the room. He keeps coming, his hips bucking upward, pushing his cock even deeper into his fist as he empties himself.
Alastor's orgasm was intense, almost violent, but it was the sweet release he's been craving all day long. As his climax finally begins to subside, the demon collapses back onto his bed, panting heavily.
However, his cock has remained hard and throbbing between his legs, demanding more attention as he tries to catch his breath.
Slowly, a tired Alastor sits up and glances down at his still engorged member. A part of him is reveling in the feeling of power that comes with being so thoroughly aroused. He needs to fuck something, anything, his eyes are gleaming with lust.
But hasn't he been tormented enough? Why isn't he satisfied yet?
He reaches for the nearest object. It doesn't matter what it is, as long as it can take his powerful cock and bear the brunt of his ferocious passion. With a sinister chuckle, Alastor picks up another unlucky cushion and holds it tightly against his hips. His cock jerks repeatedly as he positions himself with the head of his shaft pressing against the soft fabric.
The cushion offers little resistance but serves as an outlet for Alastor's raging desire. He pounds away at it, relentlessly, his body shaking. With the ever present sound of static, evidence of his frustration, he rhythmically pistons in and out of his makeshift partner with brutal force.
He's been doing this for weeks now, all the unsatisfied hunger making him lose his sanity bit by bit.
The radio demon's eyes are glazed over with passion. He continues fucking the cushion with savage intensity... still he wishes he could take it out on someone made of flesh and blood, someone who would react and offer him some reassurance that he's not going to pass out.
The pleasure is threatening to overwhelm Alastor once again and with labored breathing, he frantically moves his hips-
"N- no, n- no....agh-" He lets out a feral roar, spurting a sticky cumshot onto the cushion. This time, when he collapses on the mattress, he is exhausted.
He doesn't bother looking down at his angry cock, the discomfort isn't going away till the mating season ends...
...let's go back to you now.
After being so abruptly pushed away by Alastor, you went straight to your room. You have a lot to ponder over after tonight. Maybe you did have a small a crush on your friend that had allowed the situation to escalate. His behavior has been so off putting though.
You'd been proud of yourself, considering that you know Alastor better than anyone else in Hell, since he talks about everything with you over a cup of tea. He had been so excited to tell you he'll soon be back on air and he's always somewhere around you at all times. So, the fact that he just expressed sexual desire for you and then told you to leave him alone immediately after...
You would have never guessed that your fellow deer demon is interested in sex. He's been in the company of some of the most desired demons, but he's simply not into that kind of thing... Yet, he had dry humped you like some desperate animal.
His scent had been so blissful to your nostrils, that he had almost woken something primal in your own body. There's definitely a lot of tension between you two now and you hope that tomorrow he will approach you.
You sigh and get all cozy under your bed covers. How should you deal with the situation at hand? You know him. Not just the radio demon, or Alastor the cannibal, but him.
Maybe the whole redemption thing is working, but when did you start being so considerate and thoughtful of other sinners' hardships? And if your friend's hardship is a constant hard on, perhaps your services will be appreciated... or you've just been hanging out with Angel too much.
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It's a new day in Hell.
You take your time getting ready before joining Niffty in the kitchen to make breakfast.
Alastor is sat on his bed, his face buried in his hands as he trembles with unwanted arousal. He's almost at the point of a nervous breakdown. The radio demon is getting angrier with himself, the urge to find you and claim you is getting worse and worse and he struggles to maintain his calm.
Alastor gets ready. His routine a bit different when in rutting mode. He first relieves some of the pressure in his balls, he then puts on a clean shirt, fixes his hair and places his red monocle back in place. And of course, his smile, because he's never fully dressed without one!
"Oh good morning my fellows! What a pleasant breakfast you seem to be having!" He prefers to eat alone, so him appearing late isn't something worth noticing... but the tenting in his trousers definitely is... and when Angel smirks mischievously at him, Alastor smiles in such an unnerving manner that the spider demon has to cower behind Husk.
"Al! Morning!", you say a bit too cheerfully. Your deer ears rise on your head to match your general attitude.
The radio demon grins at you, internally relieved you're not keeping last night against him. He rarely feels any remorse (part of why he's in Hell), but he's not proud of snapping at you last night just because he's irritable and frustrated 24/7. You're a deer demon like him, but you never get in heat like an animal, you weren't as sinister as he was when alive and therefore your punishment isn't as tormenting.
You stand up and start gathering the dishes. Charlie is eager to help you, but you manage to deny her excessive kindness for once.
Alastor swallows a guttural growl as you turn your back at him and start walking to the kitchen, your deer tail and your ass all too enticing for him. His legs begin to move against his will, following you like he's being driven purely by instinct. He is once again biting his tongue hard enough to taste the familiar to him metallic taste of blood. There is a certain strain the urge is causing him... and for once Alastor is feeling desperate for touch.
"Angel and I are going outside today, he said he wants me to meet a friend of his... um, I think her name's Cherri or something." You obviously felt his presence, his red eyes feasting on your form the whole time.
"How delightful, making new acquaintances! I am still decorating my humble station. Haha!"
"Oh, I can't wait to experience your radio show again Al! It's been so long!" His arrogant smirk is accompanied by a twitch of his stiff dick. The energy boost he feels when you acknowledge his power... it makes him dangerously lightheaded.
He walks closer to you, looming right behind you as you stretch to put something on a high self. Alastor has you trapped between the kitchen counter and his body. The demon's cock throbs painfully against the fabric of his pants. The said fabric growing damp as he grows harder.
With a frenzied urgency, Alastor gives in to his animal side and leans in, his hot breath in your ear is sending shivers down your spine, your pupils dilating.
"Do you even realize what you've been doing to me sweet y/n?"
He is getting impatient... and when you don't answer him immediately, he presses his tent against your ass. "Do you my little deer?"
The sound of static feels the air, his voice distorted and his breathing heavier than before. "You... have no idea how much I want- no... how much I need this, with you."
You swallow, your own breath has sped up and heat has pooled in your tummy again. But when you turn to look at him, you come face to face with a hideous creature with wild eyes. You flinch. Alastor's smile fails him and you swear you hear the most discreet of sniffles coming from him.
"Help me." That's proof enough for you that your friend is going through something he clearly didn't ask for, but it's taking over him anyway.
Angel Dust has described to you how he'd needed time to get used to having multiple arms and you have to file down your antlers daily, so that they don't overgrow and cause you headaches. Alastor on the other hand loses himself to primal urges once a year.
You lock your gaze on his and extend a steady hand, placing it on the side of his pale face. Not only does he allow it, but your small gesture seems to have an effect on Alastor, his demon form receding... and you can see how sweaty and shaky he really is, while trying so hard to hold back from bending you over the counter and taking you raw right now.
"Stay still..." It's now or never for you. You hesitantly cup the bulge on his pants.
Alastor gasps, his eyes rolling back in his head as he leans into your touch. He's already so aroused that any contact is sending shivers down his spine. He buries his face in your neck and starts nibbling or better... biting around your collarbones. It’s a cannibalistic urge of his, but he would kill himself before causing you any real harm.
Alastor groans, his still clothed member twitching under the pressure of your hand. The demon can barely think straight, his rutting instincts taking over completely.
"I need... I need to be inside you." He can only whisper, reaching down to pull your shirt up, his fingers trembling as he does, revealing your upper body to him. "Yes... I need you."
This is all so sudden for you, but you finally know with certainty what's happening. "You're... mating or something?"
You stop rubbing his clothed crotch and Alastor moans, the sound carrying the old audio like effect. He nods slightly, his hips bucking against your hand. He's so close to losing control. The mating season has driven him mad with lust. A lust projected on you it seems.
"Y/n... I need you now."
"Al... they- they're gonna hear us... we're in the frickin' kitchen! ...we can't...can't-"
Alastor's eyes widen and he stumbles back a step, his erection painfully asking to be freed from his dress pants. He looks at you incredulously, angrily. "What?! But I... I said that I need you." He starts panting, there's a look of betrayal on his face that has you short circuiting.
"I'm already half naked here and you're... you're obviously hard- it's too risky!"
"I. Don't. Care."
"Well you should... but..." you sigh.
"I do have another idea. I've been rather inactive in the afterlife but... I can do it for you."
Your friend's heart is racing with anticipation. He tries to control his unsteady breathing without much success. "Another idea?" He asks with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "What is it?"
"I know it's not what you really crave... but I can... you know... jerk you off?"
Did you really just say that?
He begins to unbutton his pants hurriedly. "Very well..." As Alastor's pants fall to his knees, he scratches his fluffy ears, presenting his throbbing member to you. It's a sight to behold; long with a shimmering dew covering the tip. "Do it."
Your mouth is watering as your eyes take in Alastor's cock. The head of it is a deep reddish purple, almost glowing with arousal. His ballsack hangs heavy, clearly filled with seed, so that he can breed for as long as the rutting lasts. Something must've altered in your brain's chemistry, because you take his balls in your hand, gently playing with them. The deer demon lets out a low moan, his hips thrusting forward slightly. The sensation of your hand on his sensitive balls is almost too much for him to bear...
"More..." he manages to whisper between pants.
Encouraged by his reaction, you squeeze his balls softly and Al lets out a throaty groan, his dick twitching almost ready to explode. He's not used to other people touching him.
You're still unsure if that's the right thing to do in the kitchen, where anyone can walk in at any given moment. But he seems to be really into it and the look in his eyes makes it clear to you that you can't just stop now. So that's what he's been struggling with, what's been making him stay locked in his room, until dealing with it on his own wasn't enough.
Alastor's gaze is pleading you and his voice comes out shaky, unfiltered.
"Please... I need more..." He then reaches down and moves your hand on his eager cock. You wrap your fingers around his length, with your thumb resting on his head, tracing it slowly. The sounds he makes and the way his features contort with pleasure makes you start stroking him.
The overlord can't believe what's happening. He has never experienced anything like this and it feels incredible. The more you stroke him, the more he bucks his hips into your hand. "Y- yes... just like that..."
You feel so confident now that he seems to have let go completely, allowing you to do as you please with his body. You know teasing isn't fair, especially in his hormonal state, but you can't help slowing down your hand's movements, playing with the friction you're providing him with. He lets out a frustrated huff of air, his nostrils flaring. "Faster."
"Nope, I told you I don't want anyone finding us out."
"I didn't ask you darling. It was an order."
You stubbornly slow down your hand even more and you know that this is far from enough for him. Alastor needs more speed, more pressure.
"I... Don't... Give a single penny if they'll hear us... J- just... y/n, get me there." His body trembles with need as he speaks to you.
"You... you accepted to help me... and yet you- you refuse to give me what I want." He looks down at your lips with a mix of lust and anger in his bright eyes.
You suppress a mischievous giggle. It's empowering seeing such a strong demon being dependent on you. You can feel the heat radiating from his dick and he makes a desperate little sound when you begin moving your hand up and down his long member again.
You almost feel pitty for him, teasing is fun, but you don't want to disrespect him or humiliate him while he's so vulnerable and not in control. Though that decision has nothing to do with the fact that he could kill you, you actually feel strongly for him and the way both pairs of your ears move in sink as you peak up pace is so... natural for you, like you two belong together in a primal sense.
Alastor feels his muscles tensing up and his black heart is pounding like crazy. "I can't- can't-" He looks mesmerized at your hand jerking him off at a now delicious speed.
You are so turned on and you want to give him all the pleasure you can in the hotel's kitchen. You begin to sink on your knees and you see him gulp. Your friend freezes for a moment, his mind racing with images of pleasure and ecstasy.
"That's new."
"How so Al?"
"I've never had that... but I want to now."
You can't help but smile. He probably never wanted a blow job before and he won't be in the mood for one after the rutting ends.
You're now at the right height so you just go for it, leaning in. Your tongue swirls around his pulsating cockhead and you're surprised from the amount of pre cum he can produce. Alastor's eyes roll back in his head as he lets out a long, low moan. The sensation of your warm breath and wet tongue on him sends shivers down his spine. "Don't stop..."
You lick his slit and he groans deeply, his eyes squeezing shut. "Yeah... Keep doing this... agh~"
You're offering stimulation and he's gritting his teeth at the feeling, but something isn't quite right. You're once again toying with him, denying him the release he so desperately wants.
"I will have you... eventually."
Alastor then takes a big breath, his cock is still hard as steel. "You're a real temptation-" He glares at you, rather hungrily, his nostrils once again flaring.
"Don't try to make me beg."
"But would you now?" Under any other circumstances, you'd never be that bold with him.
Alastor laughs darkly in response to your challenge, causing a cold chill to run down your spine. "You wound me, my dear. I would never beg for anything... especially not when it comes to satisfying this... this unwanted but still unyeilding desire..."
You smile wickedly, your deer ears conveying your feelings as always when they move. In a swift motion, but still cautiously, you push back his foreskin. A low, agonizing moan escapes Alastor's lips as your action exposes his sensitive flesh to the air. Hips jerking forward involuntarily, seeking more contact with your hand...
"You're killing me mon cher~"
"Buckle up Al..." You start stroking him with consistency now.
The radio demon closes his eyes, ragged breaths leaving his open mouth as you're jerking him off. Every fiber of his being is focused on the pleasure. He groans... feeling his elusive climax approaching at last. His monocle almost falls from his nose. "Unh..."
You're now applying some serious pressure on his throbbing dick. With a primal scream, Alastor's entire body tenses up and he begins releasing his seed on your hand.
"Oh goodness..." He keeps groaning and you can see him shuddering as he does so. He continues spurting thick, white fluid onto your hand, seemingly unable to stop himself.
In his eyes there's a mix of lust and gratitude. He licks his lips unconsciously.
"What else can you do to me?"
"W- what? Me?"
The demon chuckles lightly at your question. His eyes trail down your body appreciatively when you stand up. "And why not you? You're here and I need some action these days!"
He grins and you sigh.
"Well, that means it could be anyone... anyone other than me." You don't like how this revelation makes you feel sad and disappointed.
A sly smirk plays at the corners of Alastor's mouth. "I suppose it could, but then again, why settle for anyone when I can have you?"
His voice is husky and you like this tone from him. You and I belong together, dear y/n." He's clearly considering you his mate now.
Your romantic side wins and you cup his face. That seems to sober him up if just for a few minutes. The overlord looks like he's savoring the sensation and a deep sigh escapes him. "I don't deserve this, not with you y/n."
"But I do want to be present through this... I get it."
The glimmer of hope returns to his eyes. "You have to mean it."
"I won't leave you suffering alone Alastor."
He nods as he thinks this over. "In that case... I'll accept your offer."
You smile sweetly. This isn't that bad. He didn't even ask for a deal. You stand on your hooves and give his cheek a little kiss. He beams at you as he takes hold of his signature cane.
"Oh I think I'm going to enjoy this!"
"Haha, so do I... B- but let's make you something to eat before you get all excited again..."
"That's a wonderful idea darling! And I might as well tell you about Susan's new act while you're at it."
Alastor feels a warmth he hadn't in a long time. As you work on preparing food for him, he seems content and somewhat at peace. But then, like clockwork, the desire is going to build up again. Through the week the rutting hits him anew and he becomes extremely short-tempered. He has to change rooms when Charlie starts singing and he's constantly arguing with Husk.
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Alastor surprises himself.
During the times he does manage to control his primitive urges, he's actually avoiding you. He has this idea that he would end up hurting you if things ever escalated fully between you two. Could this mean that he actually cares for your wellbeing?
He is an overlord. He is the one and only radio demon, there's no way he has a soft spot for his fellow deer demon... who had relieved him of weeks of pent up tension just with their touch.
You, on the other hand, feel no shame nor guilt for your little encounter with Alastor in the kitchen. If anything, the fact that he's still in his mating season is making you wet, longing for more.
One fateful night, all of you sitting together, you across from Alastor's armchair... and it's impossible to not look down. He has a prominent bulge and you're not even surprised. However, when you look back up, you freeze like a... well, you do freeze like a deer caught in the headlights, because he is staring at you so very intensely.
The air feels thick all of a sudden and his gaze implies many things, to your delight. He excuses himself shortly after, but not before giving you a slight nod. He wants you now. He needs you now.
Experiencing a slight Deja vu, you find yourself knocking on his door the very same night. The Deja vu intensifies at the sound of static coming from the other side of the door. You decide to let yourself in when there's no answer. "Al?"
A pair of big and intricate antlers comes in your vision. The smell of him floods your senses. It's intoxitacing, addictive. You want him too.
Alastor wastes no time.
He pushes you up against the nearest wall, his body pressing tightly against yours. His breath is coming in ragged gasps, his eyes full of lust and desire. The demon growls, baring his teeth in a feral grin.
In one swift motion, he tears your clothes from your body, leaving you naked and vulnerable before him. His eyes roam over your exposed flesh, his lips parted in a wicked grin. With an animalistic growl, he buries his face between your breasts, sucking on your nipples with rough abandon.
You moan and arch your back, the sensation sinfully satisfying. Noticing your response, Alastor's movements become even more frenzied. He reaches down to grip your hips, lifting you up onto the wall.
You then unzip his pants, lost in the haze of your increasing desire for him. Alasor groans when you do that, his hips bucking forward as you free his cock from its confines. It slaps against your lower stomach, rigid and angry.
With another feral growl, Alastor turns you around so that you're facing the wall, while he has a perfect view of your ass and tail.
You gasp as he parts your folds with his thumb, finding your dripping entrance. Maybe he's not that experienced, but right now he seems to be driven by some infallible instinct. His finger doesn't stay in your cunt for long though, since the man is getting desperate to claim you as his, in a much more effective fashion.
You turn you head to the side and lock eyes with him. You shiver, almost scared at the pure hunger on his face. He thrust into you with brutal force, driving his cock inside you deep and hard. His hips start pistoning against your ass, as he takes you without mercy. He's breeding, essentially. It's not meant to be slow or soft.
The gentleman you knew is gone for now, but you're digging your nails in his shoulders and letting out whines and moans nonetheless.
With each thrust, he growls like a beast, claiming his prize. Alastor's eyes are wild and feral, reflecting the primal lust that consumes him. His heavy balls are slapping against your skin. You're turning to jelly slowly but surely, surrendering to him in way that feels natural to you, not forced.
Your old friend grunts in both pain and pleasure, losing himself in the heat of the moment. His fingers dig into your skin, leaving marks on your hips that show his possessiveness of you.
You reach behind you, grabbing his thighs to somehow ground yourself from the onslaught of pleasure in your core. A guttural moan escapes him as you touch his sensitive flesh. His hips buck against yours, driving himself deeper inside you and your eyes roll back in your head.
Alastor continues to pound into you relentlessly, his cock throbbing with each powerful stroke. He's sweating and he starts taking off his clothes in a uncharacteristically clumsy manner.
He can't take it anymore, your tightening walls becoming overwhelming for him to bear. Feeling the pressure building within him, he growls low in his throat and picks up the pace even more.
The new speed he fucks you in has you seeing stars, the knot on your stomach snapping without warning. You cry out his name loud enough for everyone in the hotel to hear, but you simply don't care.
He moans your name as well, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he drives himself deeper into you one last time. His body shudders violently as he reaches the height of his own orgasm. Hot, thick cum is filling you up and there's so much of... It's dripping out of you and onto the carpet.
He finally did it. He's mated. He's bred you.
Spent and panting heavily, Alastor collapses on you, his forehead resting on your shoulder. You can feel his breath and teeth on your skin as you try to catch your breath. His dick is softening inside you, but he doesn't pull out just yet. His primal instinct is still active and making sure you take every last drop of his seed.
After you both relax in the present silence for a bit, he casually lifts you up and places you on the bed, the manhandling having you blushing profusely, but he doesn't seem to notice. He lets out a sound close to purring as he lays down next to you, spooning you.
You sigh, feeling exhausted and content at the same time. You roll over so that you're facing him... and he looks like he's already asleep.
Your heartbeat has turned back to normal and you find shelter in his long and elegant neck as you start dozing off into a peaceful and dreamless slumber.
He's not cold or ignorant the next morning. That morning ends up in him grasping at the air, as if searching for something to hold on to, as your head bobs up and down under the sheets.
It becomes a fact that Alastor's mood improves significantly after having sex with you. Something that does occur a couple more times in the spam of a week or so.
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You knew the rutting was coming to an end when his desperate and forceful claiming, usually from behind, became passionate love making.
There was this one night...
Like a true gentleman of his time, Alastor had made love to you with deep, sensual thrusts as your hands had gotten lost in his fluffy hair. You had been underneath him.
Your orgasm had been accompanied by a soundless moan as you'd thrown your head back and he'd nuzzled your neck, breath labored and a frown on his face as he'd come after you. You had let him fall asleep on you that night, both of you panting, sweat covering you.
The only time Alastor isn't smiling is when he is asleep you have come to realize. You can't help but notice how tired he looks as you lay motionless next him. So you gently start caressing his ears and he groans softly, nuzzling deeper into your touch, without even bothering to open his eyes. A small smile forms on his mouth, a real one.
Is this love? Maybe someday.
The End??
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nickgoesinsane · 10 months
Note
Imagine Jessica (spiderwoman) calls up Hobie to tell him he's got a mission and he's like "Nah got eggs laid in me I can't" and ur laughing in the background because 1. Jess herself went to work pregnant and 2. they aren't even fertilized. He just wants an excuse to have your dick in him some more
-🍽️
“Sorry, Jess,” Hobie says unapologetically, and she gets a clear view of your head tucked into his neck. His grin falters with a grunt, and his eyelids flutter. “Got, mmm, some eggs inside me right now. Can’t go. Y’know how it is.” 
“Hobie.” Jessica sounds tired, and you don’t have to look at her to know she’s giving Hobie a disapproving look. “Stop answering calls when you’re having sex.” 
“Stop callin’ then.” Hobie slurs back, gasping and digging his nails into your back as another egg stretches him open. He forgets about the call and tightens his legs around your waist, his cock drooling against your stomach. “Oooh, fuck, yesyesyes—”
Jess rolls her eyes and hangs up.
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The Hat Rule.
Characters: Portgas D. Ace, Buggy the Clown, Dracule Mihawk, Trafalgar Law [ uses they/them ], X-Drake / Gender Neutral Reader
Word Count: 2,422
Rating: Mature
Warnings: None
Author's Notes: I'm a sucker for the Hat Rule, sue me. Nothing but some subtle spice. Enjoy!
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You would be lying if you said it hadn’t been thrilling to sneak up behind them and pluck the hat off their head. They were so attached to it, it was funny! Of course, sentimentality was one thing- but really, the way they had paused, reaching up to touch their head as if confused at the sudden loss had been far too comical for you to even consider not laughing at. But the moment they had turned, had called out your name-
You ran.
You had sprinted across the dock back towards safety, hat clutched in your hand as they followed after you. But you were faster- always had been quicker on your feet. You scurried up the gangplank, avoiding collisions with your fellow shipmates as you made your way below deck to your quarters. You thought you were safe, you really had! Taking a minute to catch your breath, you settled the hat atop your own head with a grin. 
Success! 
That is, until the door opened. You turned, eyes widening in surprise at the sight of the owner of said hat, leaning against the door with an expression that lingered between amused and… Something else. Something darker. You suddenly realized you had cornered yourself in your haste to escape- and now, you had nowhere to run. 
──Portgas D. Ace [ 353 ]
Your heart hammered in your chest as Ace chuckled, arms crossed over his chest as you leaned back against the opposite wall. “You had your fun,” he spoke softly, holding a hand out to you. “Now gimme my hat back.”
“No.” You replied defiantly, instead putting the hat on your own head. You turned, studying your reflection in the mirror on the wall, tilting your head to and fro as a smile curved your lips. “I think it looks better on me, really,” you couldn’t help but tease.
“There’s a rule ‘bout wearin’ someone else’s hat, y/n.” Ace sighed, stepping in, closing the door behind himself- and locking it, something that had your breath faltering. A rule? What was he talking about? It was just a hat! Even so, he crossed the room with a few strides, settling behind you. His hands smoothed across your hips, his head dipping down to press chaste kisses along your throat. “You wear the hat, you ride the sailor,” he murmured against the shell of your ear, his gaze finding your own in the reflection. 
Hunger. That’s what that expression was; his beautiful brown eyes dark in the soft light of the room. Your heart stuttered in its beat as he kept your gaze locked with his own, lips pressing over where your carotid artery lay in your throat. “Oh,” you whispered back, blinking slowly as his hands wandered. Fingers plucked at the edge of your shirt, dragging it up slowly with his fingers as they trailed heated paths across your skin. His Devil Fruit ability- oh, how you loved that. 
“Whattya say, y/n?” He asked, biting at your shoulder gently, not enough to cause pain but certainly enough to draw a gasp out of your lips. You nodded mutely, transfixed by your reflections as he grinned wolfishly over your shoulder. “That’s my baby.” A damn near growl as he tugged your back against his front, subtle grinds of his hips giving you a clear image of just how much he wanted you. 
You were suddenly glad you decided to steal his silly little hat. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
──Buggy the Clown [ 464 ]
It had been a celebration. Another successful show, another successful tithe paid from the townsfolk. One of those rare times where your Captain was genuinely happy, laughing with his crew as the bonfire burned brightly on the beach. But you weren’t there- no, you were sitting on the throne in the center ring of the Big Top, orange tricorn settled atop your head as you waited. 
You didn’t have to wait for long.
“Y/n,” Buggy called out as he sauntered in, his gaze settling on your form sitting in his chair, wearing his hat. The sight had his breath faltering, had his mouth suddenly dry. You looked damn good sitting there, almost as good as he did. Your legs kicked up over the arm, your lips curved into a cheeky grin. His hat… His hat on your head. 
He approached slowly, the sounds of the celebration fading behind him as he reached the throne. “Look at you! All comfortable in my chair, wearing my hat.” He muttered, one hand grabbing your chin, forcing your head up and back to meet his gaze. The other settled on the top of the throne as he leaned his weight against it, hovering over you.
“Your hat?” You countered with faux confusion. You reached up, touching the tricorn. “I could’ve sworn this was my hat.”
“Brat.” Buggy hissed as you grinned. 
You leaned up, sitting upright as your legs shifted down from the arm of the couch. “Yeah? Am I?” You continued to taunt, watching as your lover’s gaze brightened with the game you had decided to play.
“Yaknow, there’s this funny little rule that comes with wearing someone else’s hat.” His thumb brushed against your lower lip. You leaned into the touch, gaze flickering down to his painted smile. 
“What is it?” You breathed as he shifted closer. When you’d stolen his hat, you’d let his hair down. Aquamarine tresses spilled over his shoulders, falling forward to cloak you, giving an odd form of privacy as his lips ghosted against your own.
“Wear the hat, ride the Captain.” Buggy murmured as he captured your lips in a kiss. Paint smeared against your skin as you reached up, tangling your fingers in his hair, drawing out a pleased hum from him as he pressed closer. 
You pulled back with a nip to his lip, watching the way he crumbled beneath you so easily. “Ride the Captain, eh?” The thought set a fire in you. You rose to your feet, swapping places with a hand against his chest, shoving him down into his throne. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to fuck you here.”
“Shit,” he chuckled, hands settling on your waist as you took your place on his lap. “Keep the hat on.”
“Yes, Captain.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
──Dracule Mihawk [ 516 ]
You felt like royalty as you ran through the halls of the castle. Perhaps it was the romance novels you’d read over the years, but there was something particularly thrilling about running through corridor after corridor with the tricorn clutched to your chest. You found yourself in the library, chest rising and falling with deep breaths as you turned to face the doors. Any moment now, Dracule would walk in.
It was worth it. Grabbing his tricorn the moment he’d docked at the island, running as fast as your legs could carry you back to the castle. You worried your lip as you looked down at the black leather, fingers brushing against the stitching. After a moment’s hesitation, you raised the hat- and settled it atop your head.
The doors swung open. 
“Darling,” Mihawk drawled. Yoru wasn’t on his back; his coat had been discarded, no doubt left by the front entryway. He sighed, taking in the sight of you in the moment. Cheeks flushed, hat perched atop your head; you were bathed in the orange glow of the fireplace. The sun had already set behind you; no light spilled through the large windows. 
A piece of art, you were.
“I believe you have something that belongs to me.” Slow steps drew him closer, even as you took shorter steps backwards- until you stumbled, ending up on your rear on the rug before the fireplace. Mihawk chuckled as he stood over you, arms crossed over his chest.
You found your words at last, grinning up at your lover. “I dunno what you’re talking about.” Cheekily, you leaned back on your elbows as Dracule knelt, reaching out to cup your cheek gently. “All I have is this shirt… And this hat.”
“... That’s all?” His gaze flickered down to your legs- bare, he realized. When had you stripped your trousers? He was certain you had been wearing them when you met him at the dock. “There’s a certain tradition when you wear another’s hat.”
“Tell me about it.” You sighed as his hand smoothed along your calf, gently massaging the muscle. He moved slowly, crawling over your form as his hands left your leg and cheek, balancing his weight over you. He dipped his head, stealing a kiss from you that had your head swimming by the end of it. The ghost of a brush of his tongue against your lip before he parted; you leaned forward, chasing him. 
“Wear the hat,” he murmured as he shifted, arm curling around your waist. In a movement too quick to track, he’d rolled you both, settling you on his lap as he settled on the rug. His fingers gripped your thighs, dangerously high to rucking up your- no, that was certainly his- shirt. “Ride the pirate.”
“Oh,” you breathed, mind growing fuzzy with the lust that was beginning to course through your veins. You shift your hips slowly, feeling your lover respond in kind. A groan pulled free of you as your hands settle on his chest, fingers gripping at his shirt. “Oh, I think I like that one.”
“Good.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
──Trafalgar Law [ 450 ]
It was hard to hide in a submarine. This was your first- no, second- mistake. Taking your Captain’s hat was the first mistake. Hiding in the submarine was the second. And the third? Deciding to add insult to injury by hiding in their own quarters. Was it the brightest of ideas? No. But Shachi wasn’t going to let you get out of the bet without consequences, and like hell you were going to cough up five hundred berries. 
So, you stole Law’s hat. And then had run for your damn life. 
You could hear the heavy footsteps of their boots as they approached. You panicked- and tugged the white hat on as the door opened, revealing the frustrated face of Law. They paused, brow furrowing at the sight of you standing in the middle of their quarters. “The boiler room would have been a better hiding place,” they taunted sarcastically, closing the door behind themself before leaning back against it. 
“I uh, I panicked?” You shrugged, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. You reached up, patting the hat on your head. “I get why you wear it. ‘S comfy.”
“It looks good on you.” They admitted softly, pushing off the door to cross the room, settling before you. Their hand raised, brushing a strand of hair back behind your ear. “Almost as good as it looks on me,” they finished, lips curving into that signature cocky grin that had you stomach twisting. 
You reached out, settling your hands on their chest, “There’s this lil’ thing,” words barely above a whisper; they had to focus on you to really hear. “This lil’ rule I remember learnin’ about.”
“And what would that be?” They asked just as softly, hands settling on your hips, drawing you closer, pressing your form against their own. Their hands squeezed slowly, the pressure enough to draw a pleased sigh from you.
You leaned in, lips brushing against their ear. “If I wear my Captain’s hat- I have to ride them.” A nip against the shell of their ear had a shudder dancing across them. You could have sworn a soft ‘fuck’ had slipped free from them. “Is that right?”
They pulled back, hand coming up to grip your jaw. A mischievous light had settled in their gaze as they studied you. You weren’t sorry; not a single speck of sympathy lingered in your expression, in your words, in your teasing. “You are, y/n-ya.” They rasped as they leaned in, stealing a kiss. Their teeth grazed your lip as they guided you backwards, until the back of your knees hit the bed. You sank slowly, but they didn’t part- not until you pulled back, panting.
“Captain-”
“Keep it on.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
──X Drake [ 399 ]
You had managed to stumble into your quarters on the Liberal Hind, only to realize that oh- well, shit. That’s a mistake. You curse yourself softly as you try to figure out how to get out of this mess. It had been a silly idea. You hadn’t seen your Captain laugh in a while- and thought that hey, stealing the hat would be funny!
Apparently not, given the yell that had come from him as you sprinted away. 
Your heart skipped more than one beat as the door to your quarters swung open, revealing the tall form of your Captain, X-Drake. You swallowed roughly around nothing as he studied you, brow furrowed. He ran a hand through his hair with a huff, stepping in and closing the door behind himself. 
Slowly, you raised the hat- and placed it on your own head.
Worth it, you thought to yourself as your lover’s eyes widened in shock as he turned around once more. “Missing something?” You teased, arms crossing over your chest as he studied you.
“That’s my hat.” He stated simply, taking a step forward. “Why did you take it?”
“Maybe I want it.” You shrugged, watching the way his eye twitched at the blatant insubordination you showed. Former Marines, always so strict. You worried your cheek as you glanced away. “I think it looks good, don’t you?”
“It…” He faltered, drawing in a slow breath. “It does look good, yes.” He crossed over to you, reaching out a hand to grasp the hat- only to pause. You were at port. The crew was working on supply runs. Alone on the ship. His hand lowered to tilt your chin up gently, his demeanor shifting as he tilted your head to the left- and then the right. “It suits you well,” he murmured, voice damn near molten gold with the way it poured over you. 
You shuddered, gaze rising to meet his own. “What’s that old saying… Wear the hat, ride the Captain?”
His jaw clenched; the hand on your chin flexed. Got him. “You’re nothing but trouble,” he groaned as his hands smoothed down your sides, hooking in the waistband of your trousers, tugging you closer to himself. “You need to be disciplined. Stealing from your captain…”
“Then do it,” you whispered, leaning in to ghost a kiss along his jaw. “After all, I did steal.”
“Turn around.”
“Yes, sir.”
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mulderscully · 2 months
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I've been thinking about your mouth on me all week, and I've been hoping I'd see you in Paris so I could put it to use.
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mx-monster · 5 days
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Thinking horny thoughts about Minotaurs so here’s a lazy Drabble
Cw: m/f, breeding kink
Male!minotaur god of agricultural x Female!human offering
your villages crops are failing. If it continues there won’t be enough to store for winter. In the face of a grueling winter and the real possibility of starvation, the villagers turn to the god of agriculture. They choose you as the offering. They lathering you in sweet smelling oils and dress you in the finest scarlet dress the village possesses. Gold necklaces are clasped around your neck, silver bracelets slipped onto your wrists. A crown of wildflowers rested on your brow.
You’re paraded through the village while neighbors, family, and friends gather on the streets chanting prayers and singing hymns to catch the God’s attention.
You’re left standing alone in a barren field One of the many your village had tried and failed to cultivate. The light of the full moon bathing you in its silvery light.
It doesn’t take long before He’s towering over you. He was magnificent.
“Do you know what this ritual entails?”
What do you say to a God? How do you say it? So you don’t answer. At least, not with words. Without looking away from the God before you, you lower yourself to the ground. Dress pooled around your waist, you spread your thighs and bear your sex to His hungry eyes.
He spends hours between your legs. Alternating between opening you up on his thick fingers and dragging his large, hot tongue along the seam of your cunt. He pushes you to the edge of ecstasy, only to reel you back in.
Your thighs are slick with the proof of your need. You feel wetness steadily leak from your cunt onto your ass. He slides his hips in between your thighs, the blunt head of his cock teasing your slick entrance.
“You’re ready. Know that if we do this I will spill inside. My seed will take and you will become pregnant. Do you understand?”
You nod. God, you understood. You wanted it more than you wanted anything else.
“Say it.”
“I want it, please. I-I need it. I need it so bad,” you sobbed, frustrated tears streaming down your cheeks. He had spent so long teasing you, you’d absolutely die without release. You nearly screamed in relief when He began slowly fucking into you. He was so thick. Even with all the preparation you felt every inch of Him splitting you open.
“Such a greedy cunt you have,” He grunted, “taking me so well. Begging for my cock so prettily. I’ll give it to you. Give you anything. Everything.”
It doesn’t take long before you felt an orgasm rip it’s way through you. Your vision blacks out as a wrecked scream tore from your throat. You felt his cock pulse, spilling hot seed into your starved cunt.
When you finally came back to your body you noticed that the once barren field was now filled with healthy vegetation.
“Your village will one day be the capital of a mighty and prosperous kingdom. Our children’s children will sit at it’s head and one day pass their crown to the heads of their children. But that is a conversation for later,” he pulled you close, enveloping you in a strong embrace, “now, we rest.”
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ken-dom · 8 months
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Ken’s First Orgasm
Ken x reader
1.1k words
Summary: Since Ken entered the real world, he’s been experiencing some… feelings (AKA a good orgasm might calm him down)
Author’s Notes: It’s smutty, it’s tongue-in-cheek, it’s a little bit silly… just take it for what it is, enjoy the Kenergy and have fun 🩷
This was my first Ken fic, originally posted to my main blog under the title 'Ken's First Time.' Due to a tagging issue on my main, I'm reposting my works here to have everything in one place.
Warnings/content: NSFW, 18+, first kiss, first orgasm, making out, dry humping, hand job, gn!reader, Ken’s self doubt and nerves (and crying)
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‘I’ve been getting these… urges, like, there’s something stirring deep inside me that I can’t seem to tame,’ Ken uttered huskily, fingers toying with the hair by your ear. ‘I think it might be because I’m craving… this.’
Biting his lip, he stared deep into your eyes, the heat of his gaze dropping down to your lips before slowly leaning in.
When you followed his lead, breath quickening as you tilted your head, he faltered, pulling back with a quiet growl and balling his fists in frustration.
He had hung on your every word all day, never taking his eyes off you for a single moment. And you’d noticed the way he lit up every time you looked at him… but now, you began to wonder if you’d done something to put him off.
‘Ken?’ you breathed carefully.
‘I- I’ve never…’ he hesitated.
Oh. That’s all it was. You dipped your head to meet his sparkling eyes again.
‘You’ve never kissed anyone?’ you asked gently, lifting your palm to rest softly against his handsome cheek.
Ken cleared his throat and forced a smile. ‘I’ve tried. Lots of times.’ He lifted his chin with mock confidence, as though trying to kiss was some sort of proud accomplishment. ‘You know how it can be.’
‘It’s alright,’ you soothed, rubbing your thumb soothingly over his cheekbone. Your mind raced with what else he probably hadn’t done either, the thought causing heat to pool at your core. ‘We’ll take it at your pace.’
The silky tone of your voice and the comfort of your words made him feel… dizzy? He blinked his gaze away, blushing. Feeling it again. That pull of something deep in his gut that made him want to submit himself to… whatever it was his body was craving so much. Damn it, he really needed to just get over it and kiss you.
You smiled warmly, leaning in again with pause enough to allow him time to decide. To your delight, he pressed forward, lips crashing soft and wet against yours, and as you parted your lips to encourage his tongue, he moaned loudly into your mouth while his fingertips drove hard into the flesh at your waist.
Lost in the intensity of the moment, it was suddenly hard to remember to breathe, his needy whines and desperate grabbing clouding your thoughts, causing your legs to tremble, but eventually you pulled away, panting.
‘Wow, Ken… that was-’
‘Terrible! I mean, you… you were great. I had no idea what I was doing. I'm not made for kissing, I’m only good at Beach.’ He shook his head, frustrated. ‘I shouldn’t have- mmh!… mmm…’
You shut him up instantly, diving back for more and inadvertently pushing him to lay back on the bed. You straddled him naturally, conscious thought still lost in the haze of excitement.
‘You- you liked it?’ he breathed huskily as you pulled up to get a look at how pretty he was, breathless with anticipation beneath you.
You nodded, humming in approval. ‘And it feels like you did too,’ you smirked, grinding down against his already aching erection.
The noise he made was unearthly, a growl and a whimper and a groan and a desperate exhale all at once. The pressure he had been feeling there released ever so slightly with a small pearl of precum, affording him a moment of bliss between the aching neediness.
You stilled, worried you’d hurt him somehow, but his eyes widened revealing pupils dilated to the size of dinner plates, and you realised it had been a sound of pleasure, not pain.
‘What… was… THAT?’ he cried out breathlessly. ‘That felt incredible! Sublime! That’s it! That’s what I’ve been craving?! Do it again? Please-’
The last word tapered into a whine as you rolled your hips to grind against him again, and he flopped down onto the pillow, eyes rolling back with overwhelming sensations he couldn’t find the words for.
‘Ken?’ you asked softly, leaning down, ‘you’ve never had an orgasm before have you?’
He shook his head.
‘Do you want to?’
He couldn’t catch his breath and his reply came out as a husky whisper. ‘Will it feel like that again?’
‘Better,’ you grinned wickedly.
‘Oh fuck, yes,’ he mumbled, not even realising he’d sworn. ‘Please.’
You leaned in to kiss him again, igniting the flames inside him that had been roaring since the first time you held his hand. Ken moaned in anticipation, closing his eyes tightly, composing and preparing himself.
You rocked your hips only once more and he exploded, fists bunching the sheets while you continued to writhe against him, his back arching off the bed and tears prickling at his eyes as his orgasm tore through every fibre of his being.
It was like nothing else. How had he never so much as wondered what this would be like until he had entered the real world and discovered human feelings and thoughts… and needs.
His chest heaved as he came down from his high, lazily lifting an arm to rest over his forehead in complete surrender while he tried to claw his way back to the present, with you.
When he opened his eyes, he was met with you smiling down at him, nothing short of smug.
‘Was that- did I-?’ he stuttered.
‘You sure did,’ you panted, heart pounding and heat rushing down to keeping your own arousal simmering. God, he was a picture, mussed hair and pink cheeks and heavy eye lids.
‘Oh… oh, that was, it was-’
You chuckled, climbing off him to settle at his side, where he turned to face you.
‘Should I have… you know? Was there something I didn’t do? You didn’t…’
The concern in his eyes was endearing, but you laughed again and he relaxed. Another tear slid down his cheek as you caressed his arm tenderly.
‘Don’t worry, Ken, we have time for that. I get the feeling you’ll be great at… doing stuff. Besides, that wasn’t quite the whole thing. I’m glad it felt good, but there’s a lot more I can show you. If you want me to…’
Ken snorted a disbelieving laugh. ‘Well, good, because these urges I’ve been getting? I think they might have actually been for-’
‘Orgasms,’ you interrupted with a smirk. ‘Yeah, humans tend to get that a lot.’
‘I’m not surprised! How do you get through the day without doing that at regular intervals?’
You laughed, gently wiping the tears from his cheeks. ‘It will calm down when you’re a little more used to it. In the meantime… let’s make the most of your libido, yes?’
‘Absolutely,’ he agreed eagerly, as though the word libido meant anything at all to him. Nevertheless, he was as eager as anything for another round.
‘I’m going to start undressing you this time… if that’s alright?’ you muttered seductively, kissing at his collar bone while your fingers toyed with the buttons of his shirt.
‘Of course. You don’t have a body like mine for nothing. Well, I suppose it’s main purpose is for Beach, but-’
‘Ken?’
‘Yeah?’
You didn’t use any more words, and he suddenly lost all concept of his own thoughts when your hand slid inside his beach shorts.
‘How does this feel?’ you whispered as your fingers wrapped loosely around his thick length and pumped slowly, lightly. You didn’t want to overwhelm him too soon.
‘R-real- f-fucking- oh!- good, hnnng…’
1K notes · View notes
onyx-syn · 6 months
Text
Cockwarming Headcanons with LA! Buggy and LA! Shanks
Warnings: Smut, some fluff, Female Reader, Flirting, Cockwarming, Some praises, pet names and Unprotected Sex
*Don't steal my writings and claim it as your own*
*18+ Only*
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Buggy
🌹Buggy the clown is many things, one such thing is he is a sucker for you. A sucker for your love and touch, always wanting to be the center of attention around you
🌹And boy is he obsessed with the idea of his cock inside of you. Idea? Well, for a while he held back the thought of doing such a thing with you until the time finally came around to it
🌹See, for a while Buggy wasn't exactly comfortable with the physical touch. Not that he didn't want to touch you or be touched, it was more or less his insecurities taking over him
🌹But once he gets comfortable and used to you, oh he is melting for you and your touch at every giving moment
🌹He loves cockwarming you. I feel as he's able to detach his limbs he would be a little naturally cold? Or get easily cold? So, naturally, he nuzzles up to you when you two have time alone or wants you to nuzzle up to him. He loves feeling the heat emitting from your skin against his cold body, and even more so when he Buries his cock deep inside of you
🌹Where he likes to do it at is the fun part. He's both a private and public man. Sometimes he likes to do it in the comforts of your own room, deep in the night as deep as he's in you, only he can hear your sweet little moans of his cock burying deep inside you before you both end up sleeping
🌹Or, be a little sneaky and have you seated in his lap, rolling your hips around in circles, his hands gripping onto your hips keeping you steady, so you don't make the mistake of altering the members at the meeting of your sinful doing (which at that point, some of them have already figured you two were doing something)
🌹He'll leave his cock with you when you're in the mood or when he's gonna be gone for a while. He most definitely has phantom feelings so he can feel your walls greet him from afar. How hot your cunt feels, feeling his cock warm up and become wetter due to you. He's actively melting and mewling for you
🌹The feeling of your walls clenching him is out of this world, however it is difficult for him to restrain himself when he wants to buck his hips hard against your ass and cunt, hearing the sweet slapping sound of skin on skin. His body shutters at even just the thought of your walls around him
🌹His cock is the perfect size, a nice 5-6 inches. It grows half an inch when erected, which may not seem much but ol boy does he show it off. A pretty nice girth he's got going on down there, a nice handle around his length when you stroke him. He has a visible vein on the underline of his cock, which his length curves just a little. His tip starts off as a nice light pink before going to a nice red
🌹His cock is very sensitive with the vein and the underside of his tip. His body shutters when he feels the underline of his cock graze against your squishy walls, moaning as he feels the hotness grace it
- "Fuck", Buggy whispers to himself, a sweat tear drip dripping down the side of his cheek.
A loud moan left his wet lips, which he regretted a little after. He wants to ruin you, but he understands that during that time at night it wouldn't be right with how tired you both are.
The room felt unbearably hot. He could feel his cold skin turn into a molten pot of lava. His length deep inside you, the curls of his happy trail touching your ass and backside. Your naked body glowing in the darkness of the room, lit up by the moonlight shimmering through the windows.
A ravenous shockwave of pleasure rushing through his body as he could feel his body undergo an immense amount of pleasure. From his cock being smothered by your sweet folds and wet cunt, and the way your body so gracefully looked in bed and in his arms.
Your wet walls greeted him so nicely that he couldn't move, the only movement he wanted to give was bucking his hips into you, slow at first before speeding up. Wanting to hear your beautiful voice moan out his name, like the good girl you were to him.
His hands grazed your sides, grasping at your hips, a bit harsh, trying to keep himself composed.
His eyes fluttered to stay open, the pleasure overtaking him as he could feel his body overcome with the sensational feeling. Your body and cunt was like an intoxicating drug to him.
One of the most powerful pirates in The East Blue Sea, naked and trembling in bed with his love, his cock deep inside you wanting to fuck you senselessly. He was under your spell, like a loyal servant for your love and touch.
He brought himself out of his throughts as he hissed, feeling how nicely your walls clenched down on his cock, coating it in your slickness. He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, his lips kissing your skin with his nose bumping your shoulder.
He took in your scent, trying to calm himself down. He whimpered a little, bitting onto your skin trying to control his ravenous urges. His body was overheating at your cunt, it felt so good, felt incredible. He wanted- no- needed to fuck you.
His body jolts a bit once he feels your hand move just slightly over his, rubbing your thumbs in circles around his rough yet soft skin. A small giggle leaves your lips before moaning, the tip of his cock hitting your walls, making your thighs tremble from the action.
Buggy shutters when he feels the underline of his cock graze your walls, huffing in your ear as hips start to buck little by little. He's melting in your pussy at this given moment.
You spoke in a slumber tone, barely awake, "Is my good boy that needy?"
You could feel Buggy tighten his grip on your hips, nodding profusely. "Yes... You feel so good baby, so... Nice~" You hear him say. You can tell he wants to do much more than just sleep.
You smile at his words, leaning back just enough into him where you're able to turn your head and kiss his cheeks gently. "That's my good boy, you're doing- ugh- really, good~"
He nuzzles deeper into your neck, pressing more kisses and lightly biting at your skin. "Mmm~" he mummers under his breath, loud enough for you to hear.
"I want you so ... So bad... Fuck, oh fuck. Your- fuck, please, please let me... I want... I want to fuck you... Baby...~" Buggy couldn't handle it anymore, he needed you just as much as you needed him.
You could feel your cunt become wetter at his begging, feeling his words breeze against your neck, sending a hot wave through your body and skin. The moment was intense, and starting to feel hot on both ends.
You shakily grip his hand, bringing it down to your pussy, the cold contact of his hand touching your clit so gracefully was making you moan in absolute pleasure.
"Then- nnn- n-do it, f-fuck me baby~"
He loved it when you spoke to him like this, wanting all your attention on him and him only.
🌹he won't always be this sweet and a good boy to you though, some days he'll be desperately moaning in your ear and telling you how well you're taking him as he deepens himself in you
🌹He does try very hard to be your good boy though. He holds back his urges a lot when it comes to him warming his cock deep in you, whimpering quietly and trembling as he holds you against him. With how your walls clench down in his harden muscle, warming him up like a cookie or wetting him- it's too much for him to handle all at once
🌹 He'll end up begging to fuck you, wanting to pleasure you and make you cum for him and hear you moan his name and his love
🌹Overall, will live and die doing cockwarming with his sweets~
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Shanks
🌹Shanks is an adventurous lad. Always off exploring new things and trying out all sorts of activities and tricks. One such new trick he didn't expect to end up liking is cockwarming with you. And now he's an an absolute sucker for cockwarming
🌹Unlike Buggy at first, he loves physical touch and little acts of service to give you or for you to give him. Well, at least before he lost his arm. But even then, it doesn't bother him too much, he still is hesitant on letting you touch his nub at first, so it would take some time for him to get used to
🌹Shanks is also in his prime, he's much more of a laid back type of cockwarmer then always actively trying to find a way to put his length deep into your cunt
🌹He loves to be relaxing either in his captain quarters or just being comfortable in his hammock with you either on top of his, his cock deep inside you as you're doing a chore or simply sleeping ontop of him
🌹Or when he catches you from behind when you're alone, cooking or cleaning. He'll come up from behind slowly, his rough hands gripping your sides softly, whispering in your ear of how beautiful you look right now. His hands roam further down your body and pull down your bottoms, sliding his cock between your folds. He groans when entering each time, still unbelievably stunned at how amazing your cunt feels
🌹But, he'll keep composure for a bit, helping you with the task in hand while bucking his hips little by little, trying to restrain himself but it can be difficult. A lot of the time it'll end up having sex with him on the counter or crate
🌹He almost has no words to describe how the feeling of your walls clenching down on his cock feels. Feeling your warm slickness coat him, every square inch of his large muscle as he rolls his tip around against your walls, bringing your body to shutter in his grasp
🌹he's much more of a private guy then a public guy when it comes to this, not because he doesn't want to do it, show you off, and be risky with you doll. But he doesn't want the other members of his crew or simply strangers, hear your beautiful voice moan his name or see your glorious reaction to his cock entering you. That's for him and you to enjoy
🌹He's length is pretty girthy, more of a shower then a grower to be honest. He's packing a nice 6.5 inches, but the girth is a key word. Has a few visible veins and has an angry red top
🌹 Isn't very sensitive in some spots, however your tongue swirling around his tips over and over again sends a thrilling chill up his spine, a shock wave of pleasure washing over him as he feels your wet his cock
🌹Will try to buck his hips more and more when you cockwarm him, making his tip hit your walls and roll against them, sending a chilling wave of sensational pleasure throughout his body. If you catch him he'll give you a cheeky smile and embrace your lips with his
- You were preparing a meal in the kitchen of the ship, docked at the small island where you and Shanks crew laid low for now. Your ears perked at the footsteps entering into the room, noticing who the pattern belonged to.
A smile covered your cheeks as you felt a pair of rough hands wrap themselves around your fabric of clothing, rubbing your tummy softly before gripping onto your hips.
You felt a pair of lips kiss your ear, sending a small shockwave of euphoria down your spine. A large chest hitting your back as the person behind you spoke.
"Making dinner I see, my love?" Shanks spoke, his raspy voice chuckling.
You nodded in return, leaning back against his chest before kissing his cheek, smiling once more returning back to the task at hand.
"Of course, somebody's gotta feed you hungry dogs"
Shanks shook his head at that, but you can imagine the cheeky smile plastered across his face. You knew he had other intentions than to just help you with dinner, you could feel his rather large groin press against your ass.
His voice deepened, kissing your neck more slower and bitting here and there. "That's so nice my dear~"
You felt a rise of adrenaline rush through your veins, rolling your hips back into his hips. You stopped what you were doing and waited for Shanks to do his bidding upon you. You wanted to feel his cock burden itself in your cunt, feeling your folds become wet at the thought.
Shanks chest rumbled with a groan, his cock sliding through your wet folds as he pulled down the hem of your bottoms and your undergarments just enough to have access to your cunt.
"Dear- oh fuck...~" he whispered under his breath, cursing at the feeling.
The sensational feeling of your walls clenching down on his cock, coating him in your slickness. Shanks closed his eyes as a moan left his lips, feeling his tip touch your walls. He pressed his forehead against the back of your head.
His hands raced back to your hips, almost reaching your back and bending you over the counter to wreck your poor puffy cunt. But, he remained composed, despite the little bucking of his hips against your ass.
His red curly trail touching your backs and ass, tickling you just a bit. The feeling was intense for him, he was a strong man yes but this was something else for him.
Shanks started to buck more, having a nice handle on your hips. He turned his rhythm to the side a bit, shuttering at the feeling of his tip hitting your squishy wet walls, coating him over and over again as he continued.
Little moans left his lips. He squeezed his eyes closed, his lips pressing on your head, giving you small kisses. His cock swelled in your pussy, filling you up with his size just alone.
Your hands gripped the counter of the kitchen table, your thighs trembling. Feeling yourself full and your walls caressed from his cock alone, a low moan and mewl left your wet lips. It was times like this where you wished you weren't busy so your man could fuck you like no tomorrow.
Shanks could feel your body tremble in his touch, sending a chuckle out of him. "Feels good doesn't it my love?~" he asks, watching you nod. "You love it when I fill you up don't you~".
"Shanks~" You breathy let out a whimper, your nails digging into the granite counter.
Shanks leans forward, his hot breath making the hair on your neck stick up and sending a wave to your pussy. "Yes my love?~"
His words and voice made you feel so many things, all of which sinful and deeply inappropriate for such an open space. You shakily moved your hands, cutting the vegetables slowly as you tried to calm yourself down.
"I ... I-i want to try and finish, d-dinner... So i-if you don't plan on helping, we might as well stop or we'll end up r-ruining dinner" you mentioned to him, slowly gaining control of the situation.
"ruin it? Oh darling, dinner has barely started" He restated, chuckling a little. "especially when I'm looking at the dessert right in front of-"
"S-Shanks!" You cut him off, your face heating up from his comments and words about your intimate moment.
You feel him stop bucking his hips, his hands lessening it's grip on your hips before reaching the counter, holding up some vegetables and a knife. "Alright alright, I'll help you, but the real dinner for us will begin after this~" he whispered in your ear, now letting his cock settling itself in you, warming up for laters activities.
Dear god, good luck for you.
🌹It's moments like this between you two that he loves, both having fun while being romantic, his love for you never going away no matter what
🌹 he'll lazily rock his hips into yours occasionally, letting a cheeky smile cover his face trying to get away with the actions of his teasing on you. It brings excitement to the man and his adoration for you
🌹He's a sucker for cockwarming, no doubt
972 notes · View notes
milla984 · 10 months
Text
With Neighbors Like These
Summary: Jack goes away for the weekend and Aaron and Reader can finally have some alone time (inspired by this concept)
Pairing: post season 12 Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader
Category: smut (NSFW, 18+, MDNI)
TW/CW: kissing, mutual masturbation, moderate dirty talk, penetrative sex, protected sex, established relationship, unspecified age gap, Hotch dealing with parenting issues, Jack is mentioned but not present
Word Count: 2k
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The house was unusually quiet as you walked in, leaving your shoes at the entrance to proceed barefoot towards the small office Aaron had arranged for himself with a few retouches to the spare room in the back.
Despite having a key in case of emergencies and whatnot, like a very good neighbor, it was a common decision you’d only use it on specific occasions and mostly when Jack wasn’t around. A single soccer cleat lay abandoned in a corner in the living room; were it to happen on a regular day you knew the mere sight of it would have sparked a fierce argument, but this morning was different. 
The evening before a very concerned father had driven his fourteen-year-old son to the arranged meeting point, camping gear in tow, and Jack was now enjoying a two nights excursion somewhere in the local woods. You had a feeling that, conversely, Aaron wasn’t getting a kick out of the child-free weekend - confirmed by his rapid typing on the keyboard when you knocked on the wooden frame of the French door to catch his attention.
He looked at you and cracked a smile, still too focused on what he was doing. “It won’t take too long. I promise.”  
You dropped your purse under his chair and hugged him from behind, the scent of his aftershave filling your nose with pure delight.
“Feeling lonely, already?” 
“Why?!” he enquired. “I didn’t have to shout five times to turn off that damn videogame, last night… and nobody guzzled down half a gallon of milk directly from the bottle, at breakfast!”
“You’re also worried, I can tell,” you added and he shrugged, defeated, then went back to focusing on the screen.
He’d been working part-time as an FBI consultant for a law firm for about a year and you had never seen him putting his job before his kid: he was an active member of the PTA and even volunteered to chaperone whenever he could (something that many moms and other dads found incredibly hot, without a doubt). If he was working on a Saturday he was a hundred percent desperate for a distraction.
Your palms brushed over his shoulders and a delicate touch soon turned into a proper massage, kneading his muscles through the polo shirt he was wearing. 
“Relax. You’re too tense,” you mumbled. He had only shared a few unpleasant details about his life as a member of the Behavioral Analysis Unit in D.C. before he and Jack moved into the neighborhood; nevertheless, it didn’t take a genius to figure out his former employment as an FBI agent had taken a huge toll on both of them.
“I’m not sure I should have signed that consent form,” he confessed. 
“His entire class is with him and his teachers all have cell phones, nothing’s going to happen. Save for a few mosquito bites,” you replied. “And don’t get me wrong... but aren’t you being just a bit overprotective?!”
“Jack told me the same thing when I said I wanted to think about it. Except, he didn’t phrase it so nicely,” Aaron grinned and shook his head while he rose to his feet. “Sorry, enough with the family issues,” he apologized, “it’s a lovely Saturday morning. Have you got any interesting plans?” 
“I have. And they don’t involve homework,” you declared, and as you pushed his laptop to the opposite side of the desk he locked an arm around your waist, his expression reverting to a serious one.
“... so you’re a bad influence.”
The intimidating attitude he could pull off with a single stare never failed to make your legs turn into jelly. 
You lowered your voice to a purr. “You don’t even kn—”
His soft lips pressed onto yours stopped you mid-sentence. The fact he had a teenage son registered in your mind only as a foggy thought and the power he’d had on you since the instant you saw him jogging around the block was almost inexplicable.
“You’re right, no more homework. How about I take you out for lunch?” he proposed and the warmth of his breath on your skin ignited a fire you weren’t at all convinced you could control. Or would.
You hugged him tight, your bodies finally making contact. “How about we take care of something else, first?”
Aaron’s attitude towards romantic relationships exuded manners and consideration, the portrait of a gentleman from a different era, so the response to your suggestion came as a surprise: he’d always shown a preference for the intimacy of his bedroom, even though his palms stroking over your breasts to make your nipples grow stiff and visible through the fabric was the perfect sign he had no intention of wasting any time to move the action upstairs. 
Your tongues lustfully met in a second kiss, prompting you to let out an excited sigh as you blindly undid and removed his belt before letting it fall on the floor with a loud clunk. You reached for his zipper and he sighed in return but gasped a second later when you gave him a light push that forced him to sit down again. 
“Show me how you do it when we’re not together.”
Aaron’s eyes widened - confusion and stupor at the beginning, then the sheer thrill of the idea lit up his gaze. And made him hard entirely.
He sank into the cushion behind his back to finish unzipping his pants and pulling them down his hips so that his swollen erection was only contained by a thin layer of underwear. 
“You’re just going to watch?” he asked, locking eyes with you. You could have sworn that look alone increased the temperature in the room by a couple of degrees. “Doesn’t seem fair.”
You reached under the flowy dress to roll your panties along your thighs, letting them crumple around your ankles; you sat on the desk and lifted the skirt up to your waist, your feet resting on Aaron’s parted knees. 
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
He swallowed nervously but didn’t miss a movement of your fingers starting to draw circles around your most sensitive spot, guided by the aching tension in your belly; your mouth watered at the sight of his cock whipping free and he noticed, so he took his time to wrap his right hand around it.
You knew how to work his length, moving up and down in slow and long strokes as foreplay, nevertheless witnessing such a handsome man masturbating for you proved to be one of the most lascivious experiences of your life.
“I always think about you when I touch myself…” you confessed, and he held on to your ankle with his free hand while you rubbed your clit. 
“Are you trying to make me lose control?”
You nodded in confirmation and he growled. 
He was now coating his shaft and palm with the leaking precum, using only his index and middle finger to collect some of the slickness and spread it over the bulging head, the exposed glans glistening in the process. That was when he usually begged you to move faster, since his delicate skin was lubricated enough and increased friction meant pleasure - not pain.
“I’m really wet for you,” you teased him, your own desire pooling at your core, but his reaction threw you off balance. 
“Stop, please… stop,” he whimpered, “this is not…”    
His ragged breath made it difficult for him to articulate his words. “I need you.”
You gestured at the purse that was still under his chair and he handed it to you; sharing the house with a teenager meant Aaron had grown accustomed to some of his clean t-shirts randomly disappearing from his drawers and wardrobe, so you both knew nothing out of the ordinary could be hidden among his personal stuff. 
He stared at you, entranced, as you retrieved the small box you’d carried with you and tore one of the foil packages open. 
“A little closer, maybe…?” you joked, and when he stood up you bit your lower lip in anticipation. He kissed you lightly on your forehead as you unrolled the latex down his hardness, then you pinched his chin and smiled at him.
“Better?!”   
He whined again. “Not exactly.”
You grabbed him by the nape of his neck, speaking softly to his ear. “Make me come. I can’t wait anymore.”
The uninhibited request seemed to have flipped a switch in him: the sound of a pencil holder spilling its content made you laugh as Aaron enthusiastically raised your legs in the air and held them to his chest, so he could start rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your folds.
It was torture but he was damn good at it.
When he managed to get himself covered in your arousal he slipped the bulbous head past your entrance. “It’s so big…” you muttered.
Truth be told he wasn’t that well-endowed and you had nothing against it, since you’d never been keen on painful sex, still you welcomed him with a loud moan once he buried himself inside of you. Even a gentleman from another era didn’t mind a bit of flattering and appreciation of his manhood. 
He wasn’t as vocal, though, but his deep groans reverberated in his throat in a manifestation of primal, untamed passion; he looked so solemn it drove you insane, his brows furrowed and tiny droplets of sweat trapped between his short hair, almost as if he was directing all of his energies into screwing your brains out.
When his thrusts grew slower but more intense you wriggled your legs free and locked them around his waist: with a last, fierce grunt he twitched several times and you closed your eyes to enjoy the moment, which was always the biggest turn-on for you.
With your eyes still closed you welcomed the pressure on your lips, a not-so-subtle invitation to take his index and middle finger in your mouth; you sucked on them alternately, happy to oblige, tasting traces of the salty precum. You clawed at his forearm when he brought the wet digits to your clit, rubbing and drawing circles just like you’d shown him before.
“Aaron… I’m…” you mewled, grabbing a fistful of his hair as you - indeed - came with his throbbing cock still inside you, lungs pleading for air and inner muscles clenching around him.
He collapsed on top of you, the additional weight making you realize how harsh the desk’s smooth surface was on your back, yet you cupped his face and stroked his flustered cheeks with your thumbs. 
“I missed you so much,” you breathed out as soon as you were able to.
He pulled out and started to fix his clothes, and before he got rid of the condom he planted the sweetest kiss on your lips. “I’m sorry about the other weekend. Jack wasn’t supposed to play, last minute change of plans—”
“Don’t be sorry, I know you love going to his games,” you said, propping up on one elbow to straighten yourself as he stood in front of you. “Besides, you wouldn’t want to disappoint your biggest fans, would you?”
He was still heaving a little and looked at you with a pensive pout. “... what?!”
“I mean, you’ve seriously never noticed…?” you locked your hands behind his neck as you tried to come up with a good imitation of the cooing voice of the soccer moms who you knew swarmed the sidelines every time he was present.
“Aaron, can you help us move the coolers? Aaron, we need to rearrange those chairs! Aaron, come here and have some cake! We made it for you ‘cause you’re such a good dad and it’s soooooo hot!”
He laughed, the vibrations in his ribcage making your breasts jiggle, then he gave you his best smile to date. “You’re jealous?!”
You shrugged, holding him closer. “No. To be honest I don’t even blame them, you are a good dad. Which is very hot, by the way.”
“Thank you,” he laughed again as he wrapped you in his arms to kiss you one more time, forcing you to close your eyes and get lost in his tender embrace. You muffled a surprised gasp when he playfully nipped at your earlobe with another heart-stopping smile. 
“But just to be clear…” he added, his voice dropping to a whisper, “it’s usually cookies, not cake!”
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@hornyhornyhimbos
NB: I don't really have an Aaron Hotchner fic taglist 'cause I usually write about Spencer Reid but if you wish to be tagged in future Hotch-centric works (SFW or not, who knows?) you can either send me an ask or leave a comment below.
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ivorylungs · 6 months
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I posted this much on tiktok so I thought it was only fair I post it here too❤️
read the rest here! (n/s/f/w)
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greenandsorrow · 3 months
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Alastor that turns into a horny monster when it's the deer mating season. He's in the rut, always hard, always humping anything he can find in his room to relieve some of the tension in his groin. His primal need to mate and breed a partner, preferably another animal like demon. Sounds good?
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UPDATE; the link to the full fic -> here
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nickgoesinsane · 7 months
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I just read a fic where a pathetic man got off from hearing the words "I love you".
(I'm drooling.)
-👾
Oh, that’s so Adrian.
You’ll be making out on one of the desks of the Belmont Hold, one of your thighs wedged between his while your hands grasp his hips and papers crinkle beneath his weight. His hands are tangled in your hair, his quiet moans muffled against your mouth. His eyelids flutter when you pull away, panting through kiss swollen lips, and you nose along his flushed skin. He smells of honeysuckle; heady and nectarous.
“I love you.” You say against the curve of his jaw, your fingers splaying over his warm skin beneath his shirt. “I love you, Adrian.”
He gasps, a ragged sound that’s ripped from his throat at your words, and his hip buck helplessly against your leg. Adrian’s orgasm catches you both by surprise, his jaw slack and his pale lashes dewy with overwhelmed tears. He fists the back of your shirt, his chest heaving, and his face grows a deep shade of red. He’s still hard against your thigh, even when his cum seeps through the fabric of his trousers to wet yours. “Sorry,” Adrian whispers, trembling, “I’m sorry, I—”
You quiet him with a kiss, dragging him impossibly closer, and he gasps against your mouth as you smile. “Do it again.”
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Text
The Coat
Rating: M
Warnings: Subtle smut, suggestive content, getting caught. MDNI.
Characters: Trafalgar Law, Donquioxte Doflamingo, Akagami no Shanks, Captain Smoker, x GN!Reader
A/N: Consider this a sister to The Hat Rule. Enjoy.
Law
Word Count: 281
The Polar Tang had docked for a supply run, the submersible quiet as the crew had all taken advantage of this rare porting. You’d taken advantage of it as well, settled in the office of your Captain. You’d offered to take log of what supplies were and weren’t needed- and you had, the ledger sitting on the edge of the desk. But what had drawn your attention was the coat that draped over the chair you were sitting in. 
It smelled like Law. 
Your eyes closed as you breathed in the scent; it was undeniably him. An undercurrent of antiseptic that clung to him at all times, but atop that- the body wash that they used ( vanilla musk, bourbon, something woodsy- sandalwood? ) coupled with their natural scent. You felt your heart race in your chest as your mind raced. You couldn’t… But no one was here. No one would find you. 
Your hand made up your mind, slipping under your boiler suit to press against yourself, a stutter of a sigh spilling free at the blessed pressure. Gentle strokes stoked a fire within you, and in a matter of minutes, you were already aching, rutting into your own hand with soft gasps of his name. 
“Did you finish-” Their voice spilled into the room, dragging a startled squeak out of you as you froze- as did he. Eyes widening in surprise, he studied you for a moment: features flushed, chest rising and falling rapidly, suit unzipped clear to your stomach, sitting in his chair, face buried in his coat. “-the logs?”
“I-”
“Don’t stop now.” Law closed the door behind themself, locking it once it latched. “Continue.”
“Captain?”
“Did I stutter?”
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Doflamingo
Word Count: 245
Your fingers brushed against the feathered coat of your… Paramour? You weren’t anything exclusive, nothing that you could certainly put a name on. But he kept you close, gave you gifts, caressed you like you were something precious. Paramour, other half, lover. Or, you could be. The option had been given more than once.
( You’re surprised he hadn’t simply ordered you, yet. )
You settled down on the couch, leaning your head into the coat as a makeshift pillow, drawing in the scent that clung to it. Oud wood, bourbon, sandalwood, and spice clung to the fabric, much like the cologne that he preferred to use. The scent made your mind grow nearly foggy, eyes slipping shut.
Your thighs pressed together as heat settled low. You’d be lying if you said you’d never thought about fucking him. He’s so big, and his hands… A soft sigh spilled free as you shifted, your hand smoothing down your front before coming to press between your thighs, giving delicious pressure. You sighed as you rocked into your touch, not noticing the door opening- or closing.
Not until your hand was suddenly pulled away by a taut wire. Eyes flying open, you were greeted with the man himself, crouched in front of you. “What do we have here?”
“Doffy-”
“Oh, please. Don’t stop on my accord,” your hand was freed, though you felt like a deer trapped in the headlights. “Keep going.”
And who were you to disobey an order?
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
ShanksWord count: 239
The coat had been dropped over your shoulders as your lover left to shower. You’d made port for the evening to avoid sailing directly into a storm. Shanks had been raving about the hot springs that fueled the inn you’d decided to stay at, something the entire crew were looking forward to. 
You plopped onto the large bed, wrapped up in his coat. Hands smoothed over the worn material; there were a few runs that you’d need to fix at some point. But something caught your attention- the barest hint of the way Shanks tended to smell. Whiskey, burning wood, and an odd touch of orchid- something you knew came from your own body wash. To know that your scent had mingled with his own enough that it clung to his coat had you flushing with pride. 
He’d be a while… 
You moaned softly as your hand busied itself between your thighs, face buried in the sleeve of the coat, eyes squeezed shut. You were already close, so pent up- 
“If ye wanted me that badly, ye could’ve said something, love.” Shanks’ voice interrupted you. You jerked your hand away, eyes widening.
“I thought you’d be a while still!”
“So ye thought ye could get off while I was away?” He ‘tsk’ed, shaking his head as he walked closer to the bed. “Came to ask if ye wanted to join me- but I think I know the answer, now.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
SmokerWord Count: 262
“I’ll be right back.” Smoker had said before he slipped out, leaving you in his office. You’d met on the sea, your ship and his own; it made for the perfect excuse to get together and talk. It’d been nearly six months since you’d last seen one another, and the time- and distance- had certainly been a pain in the ass.
Not like you two were together or anything. No, you were almost certain the feelings were purely one-sided. 
You settled back in your chair, only to pause; he’d left his jacket behind, draped over the back of the chair you sat in. Curiosity getting the better of you, you leaned over, breathing in deeply. Cigar smoke, pine, vanilla musk, and bourbon greeted your senses. Shit. You shifted in your seat, glancing towards the door to ensure that yes, you were alone. 
Shame colored your cheeks at the way your thighs tensed, at the way you could feel heat growing. Worrying your lip, you pressed your hand between your thighs, hoping to ease a bit of the tension. Your hips rocked on their own accord; a stuttering sigh spilled free as you closed your eyes, imaging that it was his hand instead of your own-
The door opened. You squeaked, jerking your hand up, pulling your face back from the jacket. Smoker paused, taking in your flushed cheeks, the way you’d gone rigid, before a chuckle escaped him. “Doll, if you wanted me,” he murmured, closing the door behind himself, locking it. “All you had to do was ask.”
“Smoker-”
“Come here.”
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snuffysbox · 1 year
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some sneaky closeups from a bigger, smuttier thing 😌 (full drawing over on my alt twitter, @snuffymcsmut)
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joannasteez · 6 months
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nsfw alphabet | romans reigns
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pairing: roman reigns x black reader
warning/authors note: self explanatory. explicit content below! minors please do not interact. i been wanting to do one of these for a little minute so here it us.
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(A) AFTERCARE
the throb in your spine is sweet. but it is torture. it aches. takes the course of your muscles, leaving you limp and short breathed. dragging moans pass into whimpers, the split of your ears and that wayward blur of vision taking you fast. he was good, too much even, making a mess of you to please his own needs. an insatiable desire to see you broken and undone. he loved you, a natural dedication to you like the sun to it's sky, but he loved to wreck you just as easily. pull you to pieces just to build you whole again. 
so he holds you close, like a soft mold against the wide build of him. a tender grip of hands and light kisses to your pulse that will away those harsh thumps of blood. he kneads and caresses. slots the wet of his tongue till its between your lips, taking you in for a tender kiss. whispers delicate into your skin, sweet nothings, that sound like everything. "so beautiful". fingers warms. soothing. "feeling so good on me". his mouth lazy and loving. "you were made for me". 
and you preen, nudge your nose to his and wrap your legs tighter. maybe in the hope to stick to him. 
(B) BODY PART
theres always a favorite, but whats more important is the occasion. for his more amorous needs, when his skin grows skittish and hot. fingers flexing with need, twitching at nothing in the hopes to touch you soon, he will absolutely bring his mouth to your breast. squeeze and pinch and groan till he's had his fill. flick and roll his tongue at the hard of your nipples, messy drips of his spit slipping down past his mouth. and he groans. takes his time and feels you tremble in his lap, breath hitching as you grind at him for some form of friction. 
but when he isn't that needy, struck by lust. his favorite part of your body is your neck. it's where his lips go, if not at your lips, they trail the skin there at your neck. at home, at gatherings. quick pecks and lingerings kisses. it's intimate and possessive. 
(C) CUM
roman had resolved himself early on to the idea that, if he was gonna come undone anywhere, that it'd always be inside you. the tight mess of your heat too incredible to ignore or forsake. he'd groan, something strangled and rugged, hips rutting wild and ill controlled, and when he was ready, he'd pull from the softness of you slow and watch his spend drip lazy.
but you'd changed his mind. or rather, you'd given him a different perspective. in some summer country villa in the dead of the night, surrounded by melted candles and the lulling scent of lavender. you'd been particularly fired up and demanding. "kneel", you'd told him, and without much fight he'd dipped his tongue through your slit. committing the taste of your clit to memory. every moan you made hardening him till his dick ached from the faintest touch. but he worked you good, pleased you, and when he was through, you took him, hot and stiff in your hand and ran him through the soaked mess of your pussy. and there he stayed. rutting and groaning, till his speed and control broke to nothing and he came there. just at your clit. chest rising and falling deep. 
your fingers rubbed and teased his cum at your slit, arching and spreading as he watched. he felt the possession in it, a silent claim that you were his. 
(D) DIRTY SECRET
you're a charming woman. you make people smile. so when the guys on the roster meet you, it's no question that their hand shakes come with a brighter smile, something more genuine than before. and their eyes linger a little longer when they think roman isn't looking. "i like your shoes", but its really your legs. "i like your dress", but it's really your figure. "you look nice today", but they'd rather say beautiful, their eyes flitting to your lips. 
but he hates that part of him would like to watch. he would like to see you with someone else, only to have you after, and have them realize that the difference is jarring. they'd pale in comparison, because you were made for him, or rather that's what he'd like to believe. it's all voyeurism for prides sake, a simple means for his ego to swell. so he keeps that tucked away from you, in the deepest parts of him. where the control of it is strong and true.
(E) EXPERIENCE 
its not about how experienced he is but more of what the experience is like being with him. his in ring persona is manipulative and domineering and a lot of an asshole. he takes pieces of all those things and sprinkles them throughout the loving ways he takes care of you. teases and controls the pace, between kisses. whispers of sweet nothings in between taunts that leave you desperate for more of him. when he grunts, and urges you to "take it". when his hips grind and an awfully harsh beat moves his heart at the dazed sight of you. "my good girl", he'll say in praise. and "i love you", when your eyes take his own in a deep stare. 
but sometimes the tribal chief bleeds into his eyes, suffers the softer parts of him to quiet and he becomes merciless, even in his mercy. tosses and pulls at your body to have you exactly where he wants you and when you spasm hard and soak his skin and sheets a sodden mess he scoffs. feigning disgust as you spurt wet and unrestrained. narrowing his eyes at the shivers your body takes, your voice small and sobbing. begging. “im sorry”, you cry, thighs wet from the seemingly endless onslaught of him. feeling him press into the arch of you back. his knee bending for a better angle. a more brutal pace. he sneers in a taunting manner, reveling in the weight of his power. “no, no youre not. you love coming for me”, his breath heavy. “so fucking needy”.
it's an intense experience.
(F) FAVORITE POSITION
missionary, missionary, missionary. with your legs bent to your chest, spread and aching. well yes, of course. BUT. those lazy days, afternoons, nights, whenever they are, moments on the couch still. when the lights are low and the breeze is a little more than just chilly. you find your self hot, skin damp, nothing more than moans and a mess of whimpers, hips taking a slow ride atop him. the pace lax, his lips sticky from the filthy roll of your tongue. "take your time sweetheart", his palms spread and caressing at your hips. working through the ache. "get what you need", soft and sure. "fuck me till you come" as his hips push upward, a tender nudge into the clutch of your slick heat. hot and hard and patient for you. 
(G) GOOFY
playful during? not so much. maybe when you both have had a drink or two. not drunk but buzzed, and you're not so steady. not as poised and put together. a little clumsy and falling over him. he's kissing your skin, leading with tongue and ending with painless nips of his teeth. you giggle and squirm, and he tries to get you to still. to concentrate, but you giggle more. more and more and it makes this big burly man atop you snort. a cute silly little moment before you're kissing him and asking him to take you slowly. 
(H) HAIR
yes yes yes, he trims. not enough to be bare but its clean. it looks kept, but who gives a fuck about that when he's got a head of hair like he does. its this raven black color almost. inky and long. sticking to his skin, falling over his eyes and at the soft line of his lips. it whips up when his head nudges hard, slick at his back threatening to fall over once more as he pushes his tongue to taste the inner warmth of your thighs. your fingers pulling through it to urge him. his hair is always soft. like fine silk running through your palm. and when you rough at the root, pleading, enough to give him a firm guide to where you need him most, he grunts and waits for another tough short pull because he's such a damn tease. and sometimes when need overtakes the natural authority of him, his hair will get messy, splay out and over till its everywhere, fluffy and kind of damp, as he kisses you with sticky wet lips. sloppy and full of breath. his tongue drunk and his eyes threatening to roll. he clings to you like his own strands of hair. utterly addicted.
(I) INTIMACY
the feeling was an odd one, something new and less known to him. this breaking in his bones, in the wide stretch of muscle, where strength holds fast and his resolve proves unbendable. its a tension in him that splits even till it grows raw to the touch. every one of your kisses making him shiver till groans push hard from his chest without restraint. his spine throbs and in the deep parts of his ears resound this heavy pulsing. his nape shivers at your touches there, delicate and tender. your skin soft and sweet to the tough build of him. you hum and purr, a moan and a kiss, his hips slow to move but persistent for the tight vice of you. he breathes heavy, warm. cursing the ache in his gut for the way it coils and burns unashamed. his eyes watered with yours, welling till a tear slips free. "tell me again", roman pleads. his fingers nailing into the sheets, the brown of his eyes earthy and sincere. "tell me please". and the seam of your lips play along his, sharing his breaths, the pound of his heart rolling into your chest. your arms about him, clinging desperate to savor. his forehead rests against yours and you whisper amongst the silence. "i love you". 
(J) JACK OFF
its a mixture of preference and occasion. alone and needy, he’ll conjure up the filthiest fantasy. your body, your skin, the wet take of your lips and the tender claw in of your nails to him. lines drawn from broad shoulders to the slim curve in of his waist. begging with tears, with short faint breath. please please please, you’d beg. his wrist stiff and his palm tight as he strokes hard, trying to replicate the shape of you. somehow soft and unrelenting all the same, powerful enough to bring him to his knees. and when the dream is vivid enough, the blur of his imagination coming into something defined, he can almost feel you. and just there, amongst the rain of a shower, he’ll come. groans broken and stuttered in their escape.
but it isn’t always like this, left by himself to work through the tension mounting in his bones. sometimes the air is more sultry, more sensual than the emptiness of white bathroom tiled walls and warm prickling water. sometimes he’ll melt into your touch, into the leather of the sofa. he’ll whimper and curse, breathy and fighting for patience, finding himself undone and ill suited to do anything but beg for you to be near him. and you’ll kiss the skin behind his ear, trail lazy and seductive till you take his neck as a place to taste. to lick and suck, teeth nipping to tease. and your hand goes strict, this steady wringing of your wrist that coax’s his hips to lift, chasing the feeling. he huffs, struggles to fight the unraveling that awaits him, breath hot and delicate as he nudges into your neck. lips attempting to kiss, to gain some form of control, but he grasps at nothing, left dazed in his own desperation. he mumbles, incoherent.
“fuck i-“
“please”
“oh-ah…shit”
every muscle in him tenses, a stillness where his breath hitches, before his nerves rattle wild. he drags through a groan, chest pulling in and pushing out, breath after breath as he comes.
(K) KINK
say it with me. overstimulation. roman, within the boundaries that have been set, is menacing. he schemes, he plots. he thinks methodically, and he acts out his ideas in ways that you have only ever briefly dreamed of because trust is a scary thing to give. he'd of course only step as far as you'd let him, but roman was a big man, and so the distances he could cover were more than enough to meet your every desire. and he took to ropes easily, their weight, the strength of a knot as it wrapped about your skin, tight but not too much. the supple inner flesh of your thighs bare and bound, your pussy dripping with anticipation as darkness loomed. the tie around your eyes silky and assuring. you could feel him staring, a grand statuesque form roaming about the room as you laid spread and shallow breathed. 
the bed dipped and you fought against the pounding in your chest, begging for it to still with shudders. the seconds drawn slow into minutes. 
his mouth this gentle skim above yours, tongue slipping to run faint. "breathe babygirl". 
you chase the phantom of his lips for something. a kiss, his tongue, anything. he chuckles dark, a rumbling from his chest that leaves you eager. 
"you trust me?", he asks. fingers running in a clever maneuver toward where you ache for him. his thumb a sweet delicate caress at the pulse of your clit. 
you body melts into the bed, back arching as your hips buck for friction. "ahh", the length of his middle and ring finger burying deep till they cover wet to the knuckle. "oh fuck me, i need-"
"not yet", he cuts. his fingers resting idle in you. letting you throb and pulse. letting you feel and rest in the depth of his touch. 
(L) LOCATION
let's set the scene shall we?...steam, a thick cloud. water raining with a prickling heat. the cascade of it stressing a warmth into your skin, but nothing that beats the heat of him. the tower of his body, taut and statuesque. he's all muscle and power, the pull and push of his hips is vicious and beautiful. languid and tormenting. his mouth drapes your neck, trails lazy till his nose nudges into wet hair. curses and groans deep, melodic. he ruts singleminded, the heart of his pleasure stored in the devious clench of your pussy. his breaths draw in, they release, they shudder, waver with weakness, drag and go broken, all done by the tight slick dripping between your legs. flowing till it trickles along the shower floor. 
and he likes the echo here. the bounce of your moans from tile to tile, till it finds itself slipping clever into his ear. the shower differs from the bed, calls for something possessive and raw. the space doesn't open the way it would in his bed. here he stills your body, holds your hips and wills into your flesh the need to trust him. to trust the hold he has on your body.
your hand trembles, dainty and desperate. pulls his fingers till his palm rest just at the soft of your mound. you groan, weak and dazed. eyes threatening to roll. 
"how's that sweetheart? you like me there? you like me stretchin' that pussy?" 
a tear wells. your voice small. "yes".
(M) MOTIVATON
let's revisit his dirty secret, that slight voyeuristic streak in him that wonders about you with other people. and though he, in the deeper, more quiet parts of him, likes to fantasize about it, what gets his blood going more than knowing they wouldn't hold a candle to him, is the subtle and not so subtle ways you reject these advances. you feel the stares and the lingering touches, the charming smiles and the eagerness for small talk. and you indulge to a degree; coy grins, little intimate laughs where your hand takes to a strong arm that isn't roman's and that slight head tilt to the side as a whisper flows to your ear like some little hushed secret. 
and these little events are all the same. wrestlers in a room, drinking and eating, chatting about everything and anything. 
it's a little easy to slip into a few drinks, to get comfortable. sometimes overly comfortable. and while it doesn't always happen, there are moments where the air pushes beyond flirty into something more solid and the veil is lifted. you pull back, feeling roman's eyes turn cold, because the game is only fun for you when he's playing too. 
"whats one more drink?", someone from the roster will ask. completely taken by your charm. a hand attempting to reach for the lower dip-in of your back to guide you to the bar. "one too many", a soft smile. quick and naturally small about your movements as you slip away from them  and back over to roman before anything else can transpire. 
"having fun?", he'll ask. 
"not anymore", a gentle pout. standing under the burden of his eyes. the grip of his hand at your waist a little more firm than usual. trying against his will to calm. 
he hates to love this little game. 
"we gotta fix that". 
but the fix is a blunt stroke of his hips. hot fingers and an even hotter release. it's this odd chain reaction of waiting and watching, till the possession in him unfurls broad and stifling. his palms twitch and his nose flares. you could have anyone and anything you wanted, this he knew for sure, but you were here with him. choking on the heaviness of a moan as he fucked rough into you against the sink of a bathroom. 
"he'd never have you, none of them would. not like this, so desperate and ready to come".
pride blooming in his chest, the soft warm pull of your heat greedy and unsatisfied as you drip against him. 
(N) NO
roman won't do anything non-consensual based, and nothing that could directly compromise his hygiene or yours. he's all about trust and a shared experience, and if anything goes against that, he won't even consider it. 
(O) ORAL
curtains sweep, flowing delicate. a soft glow taking to your skin as they sway, working to tame the harsh rush in of the morning sun. and the view from where he stands is picturesque. the drape of you against the sheets reminiscent of beloved paintings of old, far too fine and intricate to be handled. but here, he gets to touch you, form the heat of his hands to tender skin. and of course roman aims to be gentle. aims to caress light, to enjoy the feel of you without such harsh rushes of desperation. and he does it well, molds his lips to you unhurried, patient, there at your neck, the smooth plain of your shoulders, till they grow deep and lingering, teasing where your collarbone lives. 
you shift awake, moaning with a drunken sort of awareness. tethered some still to sleep. your fingers roaming the wide stretch of his back. taut muscle and warm skin.
roman finds himself nestling in at where heat runs just at your inner thighs. so close to where you begin to yearn for him.
the steadiness of his patience feeling to you more and more like teasing. 
his tongue licks warm and simple. riles up the rest of your nerves that dare still to sleep. and his lips move, in tandem with deft fingers. panties pulling over and away to make room for the heavy heat of his breath. 
he’s just there, looming over the throb of your clit. eyes lazy and growing fascinated at the way you clench and release about nothing but the anticipation of his touch. 
the tip of his nose leads the seam of his lips as they ghost and when he speaks, your hips chase that faint soft bed of his mouth. hungry for him. 
“i had a dream about you”, he muses. suckling the skin where your inner thigh bends. 
your voice breaks off the remnants of sleep. tone coarse but still to him so damn sweet. “yeah? about what?”
“doesn’t matter”, he hums. a wet gentle strike of his tongue at the tip of your clit. testing the reflex of your hips, a satisfied grin as he watches your hips roll and arousal pool. “you being there was enough” 
you chuckle. hissing as his thumbs spread your wider, angling to push in and trap your clit. the nub pulses, forces an arch to form just at your back. 
“you love to sweet talk”. words breathy. 
“you love to hear it”.’
“roman…”, you urge. pleading his name. 
he hums. “you ever known me not to take care of u?”
“no”. 
“then relax for me”. command gentle and restraining. 
his thumbs move, circling firm. but you need more. 
he's touched you, but barely, not in the way's you've at many times known him to, when the air is heavy, your body's clinging and rutting one against the other, senseless and wild. in those times, the urgency takes him and possesses him with a more vicious sort of passion. storming with impatience. but his time here though, as he skims your skin and takes delight in the heavy bursts of breath from your chest, whiny and incapable of waiting, is endless. 
and his restraint has much reason, if nothing more than to see you weak and undone. his kisses sweet at the light quiver taking your thighs, and the soft slipping lick he takes at the fat of clit. a steady downward stroke, moving to reach at the wet clench of your entrance, till he curls lazy, drooling with thirst, adding to the mess of you. 
oh his restraint has much reason, mouth working till it covers over the whole of your lower lips, roman's hands like nails as they push to suffer your thighs under their weight. anything to spread you further, to get himself deeper into the taste of you. tongue prodding till it dips through to where you drip and throb, muscles clenching, begging for a stretch and to feel the fullness it knows he can give it.
he slurps obnoxious, your taste steeping in till it soaks his mouth. forces something raw out of his chest, a lax groan that rattles your bones. 
and he holds there, suckling till he feels you grow weak into the bed. whimpers that break off fragile. 
his touch, where ever it finds itself, is all passion. every flick and caress, every roll and kiss and tensing bite, every moan and every second he takes to please you is this raw form of devotion. a wordless sort of reverence that is singleminded in its plot to draw from you the finest pleasure. 
(P) PACE
he's an all around type of guy, and the pace varies upon his mood, but you can always tell what you'll get before he even touches you. when those coffee brown eyes twinkle in their mischief, and his touch pours hot into your skin, you know he'll tease you till your nerves stress and your voice breaks with begging. the dip and roll of his hips shallow and unfulfilling. almost like he can't stand to see you happy and satisfied, and you hate to love him then. his taunting words and the amusement in his eyes, high off control.
but sometimes he reads more vicious. his touch is the harsh piercing of a nail and his hips knock into you rough as they see to your undoing. he spreads you wide and grows relentless, ego fed by the writhing of your body and the limp form your moans take. his pace is brutal then, stills your hips to dig into you till he's buried to the hilt. 
and other times a softness overtakes him, washes him whole and drives him to the utmost gentleness. his ministrations grow tenderly deft, hips steady and patient. he takes the time to feel you, every short twitch and the lingering way you cling and pull at him, coaxes him deeper till you've taken every part of him. 
(Q) QUICKIE
if he doesn't have to have a quickie he won't, but life doesn't work that way and sometimes, when the pull in his gut is far too harsh to ignore, he'll pull you aside and make quick work of sharing that neediness, till you're attacking him quick and breathy, kissing his lips wet and hasty. his hips rutting, sweat breaking at his skin, his forehead nestled into your neck as he chases that heavy pulling in his gut and the burn in his flesh that comes with release. 
(R) RISK
he's not as much of a risk taker as he'd maybe like to be. he's very much all about his image and staying negative press free. and you of course respect his wishes, but there are times where he will indulge your riskiness, at private events mainly, where cameras are more than likely non-existent. 
(S) STAMINA 
his restraint will more than likely dictate this in a way. if he's hard pressed to release the tension in his bones, he makes quick good work of taking care of you before he does so for himself, and sometimes that can look a little quicker than usual but other times, more often than not, the pleasure can feel endless, with these short bouts of reprieve, right before he's back to doling out pleasure. 
(T) TOYS
the voyeur in him can't hate your use of toys and you are more than proficient at pleasing yourself. can you bring yourself to a hair pulling release, completely breathless and ears split as you feel the undoing of your nerves, maybe not as intensely, but thats where he comes in. he's all about the collaboration, anything to see you twitch and quiver uncontrolled, to have you begging and pleading his name. 
(U) UNFAIR 
he's the BIGGEST TEASE, and definitely has more moments of unfairness than you do. he mocks you, denies you sometimes even, and when he's in a less generous mood, all in the name of seeing you squirm, he'll even downright ignore your advances. 
(V) VOLUME 
the volume is something that is shared more equally than not, neither of you more louder than the other. the both of you falling into your moments where words and noises are unabashed in how loud they can be. but it's never insanely loud. theres been a time or two though, at a hotel maybe, where a knock comes about a complaint. 
(W) WILDCARD  "do you trust me?" you'd asked him. 
"yes", without hesitation. 
and the rope wrapped tight about his skin was beautiful, something quite more artistic than you'd expected. his muscles bulging against the taut knots and tawny twine. his hair hanging long and damp, stray pieces sticking to him as his skin grew red with desire. his thighs spread and restrained, dick aching and standing stiff. in need of much attention. but you were not in the service of pleasing him. no you were very much enjoying the tremble in his body, the desperate way he chased your lips, and the lazy pass of his eyes as they took to the tight lace painting your skin. 
you lean in, bowing forward, your nails resting at his thighs, lips running to ghost the seam of his. tongue escaping to lick a less than faint strip. and he rumbles, cock twitching, his chest rising the more you tease his mouth. 
"you're so good. so obedient". 
your hand itches to touch him, fingers delicate and controlled as you take his warm length to caress light. and he accepts what friction he can get, his head lulling back, hair swaying, a groan flowing as your touch becomes slightly more firm. his hips rut forward, and then your touch disappears. a frown taking your lips in confusion. you'd thought you'd made yourself rather clear.
"if you can't control your urges, then maybe you don't deserve to come". 
" 'm sorry", the loom of your figure leaving him, and it nearly leaves him ill. "fuck, i'm sorry". 
you hum, thumb reaching to sooth at his cheek. the only touch you can afford to give him as you watch him suffer. 
(X) X-RAY
you could say so many things, but to put it short and sweet, he's above average, but not incredibly big. he's thick, veiny, and a bit curved. just enough to slightly knock the wind out of you. to have you feeling full. 
(Z) ZZZ
he'll fall fast asleep rather quickly. after he's sought to your needs, he'll pull your body in close to share the heat of him, shape the silhouette of you with his warmth and allow sleep to take him. and other times, when you're last to sleep, roaming around till your restlessness is no more, you'll wrap an arm around his waist, attempting at a big spoon, but it's no use of course. and he'll remedy that by turning over in his daze, a soothing drag of a hum sounding from him as he's pulling you to his chest. effectively turning him into a body pillow.
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