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spookyxcupid · 4 days

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𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇

𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 : the sub rengoku thirst i was talkin' about. just wanna fuck him stupid and watch him struggle to keep up, ya feel me? :ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : nsfw, sub!kyojuro rengoku, fem!dom!reader, kyojuro’s raging breeding kink, dumbification, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, slight choking kink. :ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 : 1k+

Moonlight filters into the room from the window, illuminating Kyojuro’s body in a silvery light.

Kyojuro is hardly coherent by now, reduced to a dumb drooling puppy as your ass slaps against his thighs again and again, gummy walls squeezing him so snug it’s like you’re trying to milk him of every drop of cum. He’s eager to give it to you, fiery eyes all half-lidded and glossy, transfixed on your pretty pussy swallowing his cock. It’s maddening; how tight, hot, and perfect you feel wrapped around him.

“You’re stretching me out so much, Kyo. I love the way your cock feels inside me,” you praise, and his blond lashes flutter, head tipping further back.

“It’s yours — all yours, my love. ahh, it belongs to you. I belong to you.” He babbles nonsensically, hips finally starting to buck up into your vigorous bounces. “Use me for your pleasure.”

You can’t help but moan at that, twitching around him. Ultimately Kyojuro strives to please you, his pleasure is a byproduct of that desire. You can see it in the worship that gleams in those bright eyes, fixated on where your bodies meet.

“Want me to use you, huh?” you pant, rolling your hips in a circle. “Want me to ride you till I cum all over your fat cock?”

Kyojuro moans at that and his hips jut upwards into you with surprising force.

“Yes, please,” he laughs breathlessly, and a grin tugs at your mouth corners though you try to fight it. His fucked-dumb smile is too infectious.

Even smiling, Kyojuro looks beautifully pathetic underneath you, hands grabbing uselessly at your hips. He’s holding rather than guiding, conscious not to disrupt your pace.

You peel one of his hands from your hip and guide his thumb to your clit, moaning delightedly when he swirls the rough pad over it in time with your thrusts. Your pussy squeezes around him and again his hips jolt, hitting that sweet spot perfectly. Your mouth falls open, hands bracing on his shoulders as you slam yourself up and down his cock with more vigor.

Kyojuro starts making these urgent cries, his dick pulsing with need within you.

His thumb slurs over your clit for but a moment before he’s sobbing, “Please, may I cum with you?”

He might actually burst into tears if you refused him, balls full and heavy with a backlog of cum from being denied orgasm endlessly. Even in your delirious state, you find it in your heart to be merciful, eyes soft and adoring as you brush a few sweat-slicked strands of golden hair from his sticky forehead.

“Fill me up lots, Kyo,” you purr.

“Oh, gods-” His eyes roll back into his head at the mere implication, body screaming for release. “I will, I will!”

“Put a baby in me,” you whisper, and the strangled noise he makes in response is hardly human.

Yes, he’ll do that. He wants to make you a mommy, fill you to the brim with seed til you can’t hold anymore, see you swell with child – his child, he muses possessively. breed you, he wants to breed you.

He’s wound so tight, so close to snapping in two. Your soft fingers trace soothing shapes across his cheeks as your greedy cunt swallows him whole, your honeyed praises and the soft look on your face a stark contrast to how you devour him, take what you need from him without mercy. Something inside him aches, not out of longing but of love for you. He loves you to the point of pain, to madness.

“C-cumming, I’m-”

He’s so loud when he finally cums, ropes and ropes spurting out of him in a warm stream, filling you entirely. The feeling makes you erupt with shivers, eyes half-lidded and watching intensely as he writhes and bucks, emptying his balls into you. His end inspires you to chase your own, a necklace of fingers encircling his throat as you fuck yourself on his cock with more enthusiasm.

A white ring forms at the base of his cock as his cum starts to leak out, some sticking to your thighs as you move. His mewling is reduced to pathetic croaks as his head gets fuzzier and fuzzier, and he pinches his eyes shut at the overstimulation.

He feels you flutter around him and forces his eyes back open to watch you fall apart, going slack-jawed when finally you gush around him, hand tightening around his neck as you shake and moan. Your bouncing slows to a grind, fingers loosening around his throat, to which he gasps for air, but it’s stolen from him once again as he’s thrown violently into a second orgasm, back arching off the futon to meet you.

It’s more intense this time, ravaging through him like nothing he’s ever felt before. It has to be your fault, you have to know what you do to him.

Kyojuro doesn’t realize he’s passed out until he comes to, blinking rapidly at your creased brows as you hover above him worriedly.

“There you are. Was too busy cumming my brains out to notice you fainted! You ok, baby?” you asked sheepishly, and Kyojuro can’t help but be entertained at the change in demeanor. His hand takes yours, fingers filling the empty spaces between your own and squeezing affectionately.

“More than ok, my love. You were wonderful as always — ah, careful w-we’re still…” he flinches when you shift in his lap, still stuffed full of his cock.

“You didn’t think we were done did you?” you giggle, that patronizing lilt returning to your voice. Kyojuro’s mouth goes dry, his cock twitching back to life within you. “You told me to use you, and I’m not finished using you yet.”

“Oh, then my apologies!” he chuckles heartily, it’s full of mirth… and a bit of righteous fear. “Feel free to-”

A pitiful sound leaves him as you start up again, your mixed fluids making it slippery and much too easy to return to a brutal pace. His honey-colored eyes gloss over, tongue falling out his mouth in a way that makes your loins throb.

You’ll be the death of me, he thinks. Though as he drools, begs, and fills you to the brim until he’s cumming dry, he concedes that a little death wouldn’t hurt.

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spookyxcupid · 15 days

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╰─▸ ❝ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 ��𝐎𝐑𝐄! ❞ ──── 𝐟𝐭. 𝐋. 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: “More…?” he whispers quietly, clinging to you desperately, and you look down at him with a raised eyebrow while your lips quirk up into a smile.

𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: hazbin hotel | 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: lucifer morningstar/f!reader | 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: nsfw ; minors dni | 𝐰/𝐜: 2.57k.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: fem reader, dom reader, dom fem reader, sub lucifer, bottom lucifer, manipulative reader ( i have awoken an obsession in writing them i’m afraid ), reader is longtime friends with alastor, mentions of alastor, reader is ‘the seamstress’ overlord, lucifer crawls across the floor like once? maybe twice, oral ( fem receiving ), begging, brief master kink, whining, some degradation, praise kink, lucifer is 100% being a Good Boy, leg humping, self-inflicted overstimulation, and he WHIMPERS, crying, lucifer’s just a needy lil guy tbh.

𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐜𝐚𝐬: i have fallen into a rabbit hole </3 | 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐃!— @mrskreideprinz. @p-ersus. @herohibiscus. @vampcubus.

— 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 !!

Breathy whines and whimpers echo through the dimly lit room, the flickering flame of candles catching on the deep red wine in the glass you’re holding with your non-dominant hand. The other is currently being lavished with needy, borderline worshipful kisses, your wrist tightly gripped by the man you’d had wrapped around your pinkie finger for the last five or so years. After being abandoned by his beloved wife and his sweet little daughter, he had been a mess — a mess a long-standing overlord like yourself had been quick to clean up and turn into something else, something more. Playing the concerned friend with ‘hidden feelings’ had been more than easy ( whether or not those falsified feelings had festered into something real was for you to know, and for you to know only ), and you’d had him eating out of your hand faster than even you had expected. After only two years he’d removed Lilith’s ring, and a month after that he’d begged for yours, which of course you’d accepted. You’d helped run the kingdom in his name ever since while he lavished you with attention and tended to his silly little hobbies. Your empire had expanded from a simple series of shops in every Ring that clothed the upper class to a behind-the-scenes Queen of the nation; typically you’d have celebrated with your oldest friend, but he’d disappeared after a tie-up with the Media Demon, and you’d not heard from or of him since. Briefly you’d worried he’d succumbed to his injuries, but then waved them away; little could injure Alastor, and no mobilized television screen would be able to kill him. Once he needed your services as his only tailor again he’d return, and you could demand and receive answers from him then. Until that time, your time was split between all of Hell, the whims of Rosie, and of course the dim-witted desperate King you called your own.

Alastor would be proud, if not envious, of the web you’d weaved across Pride, if you did say so yourself.

With one leg you push Lucifer away, planting the ball of one of your feet against his bare chest and making him fall back onto his calves, kneeling before you just as he belonged. He whines at the loss of skin contact when you withdraw your foot, but you ignore him, pondering; honestly he’d been far too easy to shape, so much so that it was almost disappointing at first, but his resolve and desperation to please had been more than entertaining. Every moment he kept by your side made your power grow, and considering the abandonment issues that ran rampant like poison beneath his skin, eating away at his brain and filling him with anxiety, that meant you were never alone for more than a few hours. If you weren’t steadily growing stronger, you’d have questioned if the clinginess were at all worth it.

“Please — Please, let me… Please…” The soft whimpers from the floor in front of you catch your attention instantly, and you gaze down at the mess of a man before you. His hair — typically so well-managed — hangs messily over his eyes, and his wings flare out behind him, the massive feathered limbs twitching every now and then as he holds himself back from touching you without permission; the kissing had been reward enough for the necklace he’d surprised you with at breakfast, even if he wanted more. To get more, he had to earn it.

“Do you know any words other than ‘please’?” you ask, amused by the sight of the puddle of an angel before you as well as his vastly shrunken vocabulary. He’s on his knees before you, eyes wanting and voice thick as he begs, and it does nothing but feed the raging warmth in your lower abdomen. In control though you may be, the King of Hell would get what he wanted before the night was through; after all, how could you deny someone who was being such a good boy?

“I know whatever words you want me to say,” he promises in a whine, “What do you want me to say? To ask? I’ll do it, I promise.” You know he will; when has he ever not done what you ask? Never.

“You’ll be good?” You ask, raising an eyebrow as you sip your wine, and he whimpers and nods, hands fisting and unfisting around nothing as he continues fighting the urges to grip at you like a drowning man clings to a life preserver. You fight off the urge to laugh; he was just so pathetic, you couldn’t help but feel fond of him. There was just something about sorry men on their knees that did it for you every time, and the King of Hell was no exception.

“S-So good,” he moans shakily, his pupils dilating as you crook a finger in his direction as the smallest invitation. He crawls on all fours closer to you before leaning his head against the warm skin of the inside of your thigh, nuzzling against you before hiding his eyes against it. “I will, I — I…” Fuck, he couldn’t even think — exactly how you liked him. His breathing is picking up, getting heavier than before — he’s getting all worked up, and you haven’t even properly touched him yet.

You cross your legs tightly, displacing him, and a questioning noise falls from his lips. “Mmm… Ask me for permission,” you purr, and you watch his pupils slowly dilate and his eyes fill with a fresh surge of want.

“F-Fuck, okay — C-Can I? Please, can I?” he asks, a pleading tone in his voice that has you clenching around nothing.

“Can you what?” you ask, turning to study your fingernails lazily after taking your last drink of wine, putting the glass on the table next to where you were sitting. He lets out a noise of complaint, demanding your attention be put back on him, and you acquiesce easily; you could certainly give in to one or two of his requests, wordless or otherwise, considering he’d be begging to bury himself in your cunt before the night was out.

He trembles, barely holding himself back from descending upon you like a starved man would a meal. “Can I touch you? I want to taste you, wanna make you feel good, please—“

You narrow your eyes and fight off the smile making the corners of your lips twitch; you can’t smile yet, it would ruin all the fun. “Who are you asking, Lucifer?”

“Fuck. Fuck. Master, I’m-!” he whimpers, and you raise an eyebrow in silence, watching as he bites down hard on his bottom lip before asking, “Please, Master, can I lick your pussy?”

Your heartbeat quickens. “Hmmm…” you squint slowly at him, as if pondering the thought for the sole sake of teasing him, and he plants a gentle kiss on the inside of your knee before looking up at you, asking silently for the permission he felt he needed.

“Please?” he begs again, and you smile finally, watching the way his ruby eyes light up with barely-contained excitement.

“It’s alright with me,” you purr softly, uncrossing and spreading your legs for him. He lunges forward, curling his forearms under the backs of your thighs and burying his face in your cunt immediately. He’s sloppy as he eats you out, drooling from the taste and excitement, and you sigh happily as you relax into the couch cushions. The man was ever-so-talented with his tongue, you’d discovered years ago, and his favorite hobby was to lie between your legs as often and long as you would let him — and oh, would you let him. All he wanted to do was please you, to ensure your comfort and make sure you never wanted to leave him, and a while your pity for him turned into a soft fondness that urged you to acquiesce to some of his more romanticized fancies, which was why the two of you had had a lovely dinner tonight before you’d led him by his red tie to your shared bedroom.

“Fuck,” you groan, letting your head fall back at the same time as you close your eyes and bury your free hand in his feather-soft hair, drawing him deeper into your core and coaxing a moan from him at the sensation of his hair being pulled a little. “That’s it, sweet boy — more tongue, just a little more… What a good boy you are…”

Your hips roll up into his learned tongue at the same time that you catch your own bottom lip between your teeth and grab at one of your breasts lazily, kneading it in time with each swirl of his tongue against you. A shaky string of words into your cunt that you faintly recognize as whiny pleas for you to love him and stay with him forever only stimulate you more, the vibrations making your hips jump up. A small bump against your leg goes ignored the first time, as well as the second, but the third catches your attention and you open your eyes and look down to see him grinding against your leg like a dog. Bullying him crosses your mind, and you are nothing but a slave to your own whims in the bedroom, so you do.

“What a pathetic fucking man!” you laugh, startling him out of his focus on your cunt and cumming against your leg, and he blinks up at you with wide eyes. He never stops lapping at your cunt, and you scoff meanly. “Humping my leg like some mutt, how unfitting of a king. You’re so desperate to get off that you can’t even wait for the opportunity to use my cunt like a real man — but at least you’re good with your tongue, aren’t you?”

Lucifer whines out a moan into you as he nods an affirmative, and you laugh again, this time more breathily. “You like that, don’t you?” you ask mockingly, tugging at his messy hair just enough for it to sting a little. He whimpers into your core, looking up at you through tear-filled eyes. “The mockery, the harsh words, me being mean — and the praise. Can’t make up your mind on what you want more can you?” A shrill whine is your only response as he nips at your swollen clit, and your hips buck up into his face as you moan, “Mmm, you just want to get cunt-drunk, don’t you?”

“Uh-huh!” he agrees, thrusting hard against you and lapping up every drop of slick you had to offer him. He was talented when it came to slipping back and forth between focusing on smothering your clit with attention and dipping his tongue into your wanting hole, and it took all your inner strength not to lose face and wrap your thighs around his head.

“Please,” he says, voice slurred with desire, “Please, more — Love more, let me have more, I want more-!”

“More?” you ask mockingly, clenching around nothing as his long tongue circles your clit, and he moans into you desperately enough that the vibrations nearly force a whimper of your own from you lips. “G-Go ahead and ride my leg,” you say shakily, grinning down at him patronizingly as he immediately starts grinding down on you hard. “And cum whenever you want — after all, you’re just my dumb little pussy-whipped pretty boy~”

He lets out a shrill cry, thrusting against your leg hard as he bites and sucks at your cunt and cums all over your calf, moaning and crying with tears running down his face. Shrill cries fall from your lips as you stop bothering to hold them back; he was already getting sloppy in the ways you liked him best, him hearing you call out for him would only further your shared desire.

“What do we say?” you ask, keening as he sucks at you greedily, and he lets out a stilted cry of his own.

“Thank you!” he gasps, continuing to roll his cock against you and hiccuping through tears at the overstimulation he’s forcing upon himself as smaller spurts of cum rush from his cock and coat your skin. “Thank you, thank you, thank you..!”

“Good boy,” you murmur, moving your hand from his hair to gently caress his face, and he lets out a shaky sob as he nuzzles into your hand. You lay your head back, content to doze as he comes down from his own particular high while clinging to you.

“Love you,” he whispers quietly, and you hum softly back at him in response, wordlessly sharing the feeling. “So much. So, so much, more than anyone…” You let him babble mindlessly, knowing how fond he was of doing so, and listen in silence while watching him with a deep fondness sparkling in your eyes. After about a half hour or so he slows his chatter to a stop, beginning to play with your fingers and nibble at his lips, clearly wanting something.

“What is it, Lucifer?” you ask lazily, petting his head gently, and he lets out wordless whine that makes you raise an eyebrow. “Well?”

He’s quiet for a moment, for some reason unsure of himself, before he finally voices his desire. “More…?” he whispers quietly, clinging to you desperately, and you look down at him smugly while your lips quirk up into a smile.

“More?” you ask mockingly, then scoff and cross your legs, cutting him off from what he desired most, a surprised unintentional chirp falling from his lips. “Mmm, I don’t know if you deserve it…” And so begin the waterworks.

Lucifer bursts into tears, overstimulated and wanting and needy, all while being denied of the only thing he wants. He was a man lost in a vast desert and you were the small spring he stumbled upon after days — after tasting you the first time all those years ago, once in a night was never enough. You’re just being mean to bully him like you always do now, and he knows it.

Your cum glistens on his lips and chin, and his tongue darts out to lick it up without thinking, sending a surge of heat rushing through your core. “But — But I was good!” he argues shakily through his tears, “Please, I just want — want to make you feel good, ‘nd I wanna feel good too…”

You gaze down at him, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and biting down on it harshly to ground yourself; God, he’s fucking cute. So needy and desperate, his face coated in your cum…

You smile and spread your legs again, fighting off the urge to laugh at the way his feathers fluff up and he starts trembling in excitement. He’s always been an insatiable little thing, and you should have known better than to start to doze off after he’d achieved just his first orgasm — besides, you can handle him! This was your King after all, and you know him like you know your own mind. What’s a half dozen or more orgasms before the night is out? You could always sleep past noon if you really wanted, and it wasn’t as if he’d be leaving you anytime soon.

“Then go ahead, Your Majesty,” you purr softly, watching the way his pupils nearly swallow up his irises entirely at the rumble in your voice. “I’m all yours.”

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