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turbulentscrawl · 4 months

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Hot as Sin pt. 3

;) As always, spice below the cut, and minors dni with this post. There is an extra note at the beginning of Demi's entry, as she is the first female character I've written full smut with.

Demi

Note: Part of the reason I've put off writing smut for the fem characters is that it's much harder to keep the reader gender neutral. That is, everyone has at least one hole...but not everyone has something to fill a hole with. But I've decided to go ahead anyway and simply use "cock/dick" for the reader, and just ask you to suspend your disbelief. If you don't have those parts, please just take those words to be a swap of "strap" which imo isn't a very sexy word anyway.... Thanks!

Warnings: alcohol consumption

You know she’s a little buzzed, but it hardly shows. Demi’s such a laid back and good-spirited lady that her current posture doesn’t seem all that odd; leaned back on top of you, rocking her hips up and down with a blissed-out look on her face. Maybe she was drunk off your cock moreso than the liquor. She opens one eye to look back at you, and a teasing little smirk crosses her painted lips.

“Paint a picture of me, sweetie, it’ll last longer,” she coos.

“I think I’ll just paint on you,” you tease back, grunting when she presses down and grinds against you as ‘punishment.’

“Come on,” she says. Her words come between cute little huffs of effort. “You might as well help me out while you enjoy the show. Touch me some more.” She massages one of her full breasts to make a point, rolling a nipple between her fingers and biting her plump lip. You’d almost rather make her beg, but you can tell she’s already close by how her legs quiver and her rhythm falters. And who could deny this beauty?

Your hands slide up her body, pressing into the plush of her stomach before finding her other breast and her clit respectively. She gives you a wonderful giggle-moan when your fingers circle both of the nubs, and promptly comes crashing down with a clenching, shivering bliss.

“Good girl,” you sigh at her when she relaxes again. She doesn’t stop your moving hands, so you keep rubbing her, massaging her while she leans over to the bedside table and scoops up her glass of wine. She downs the last mouthful, swallows half, and then captures your face in her dainty hands and gives you a wine-wet tongue kiss that just about boils your mind to numbness.

“I am a good girl,” she says when she pulls away, panting. “Now why don’t you be good too and do the work this time?” Her hands encircle your neck, and suddenly she throws herself backwards onto the mattress, dragging you with her. Though you would have thought it impossible, Demi looks even better like this: tipsy, sweaty, and well-fucked beneath you. Just not quite well-fucked enough, evidently, if her pulling her own legs up into a mating press was anything to go by.

“Sure,” you say, lacing your fingers over where hers rest against her thighs and pushing her further into the mattress. “I think I can do that.”

Antonio

Warnings: size difference, sappy shit, devil possession at the end

Ever the songbird, Antonio sighs sweetly into the rhythm of your hips.

“You feel so good, darling,” he whispers, grinning softer than normal down at you. “Sweet, supple thing you are.” Loving praise falls from his lips in that entrancing hum of his. His large hands caress your curves, running the length of your back, thighs, the swell of your ass. He’s considerably larger than you, like most of the hunters, but so unbearably gentle. He sinks a little further into his chair, melting from the heat of your body because you’ve managed to fit a little more of his cock inside you.

You’re weak, sweaty, and the work has only barely begun. The stretch his cock gives you is as exhausting as it is exhilarating and you can’t guess how much longer you’ll last. You brace one hand on his forearm and the other on his chest, fingers idly tracing the stitched seams there to distract you from the burning stimulation.

“You’re shaking, petal. Do you need some help?” Antonio asks reverently. You shake your head, desperate to do this yourself, to let him relax, but you only manage three quicker hops on his lap before you’re gasping for air. Antonio chuckles and slowly hugs you to his cold chest. “No need for such pride, my love, I can take over for a bit.”

When you finally relax into his shoulder, his hands grab your hips, soft but firm. He effortlessly moves you up, down, around in a tantalizing circle on his cock, then all over again to a steady rhythm. It’s a slow process; Antonio is in no rush at all, enjoying the harmonization of your hums and moans, the warmth and give of your overheated body against his hard, cold one. His lips dance all around your head, kissing you, whispering sweet nothings to you. You don’t know how long it takes for you to find the edge into pleasure’s abyss, but you’re hanging over it when Antonio suddenly lurches to a stop.

“My dear,” he warns, and lifts you entirely off of him. “I know this is a bad time, but I’m feeling myself slip.” Even in your fog, you know he’s not warning you about an impending orgasm.

“Do you want me to leave?” You ask. It doesn’t matter though, you think, because tendrils of his hair are already coiling around your waist, replacing his drooping hands. “I’m not afraid.”

“I’m glad to hear that…but I think you’re going to be a lot more haggard tomorrow than you bargained for,” he says, grin growing wide and stiff. You’d almost call it malicious, if you didn’t already know that lust was perfectly fine for the devil to feed on, instead of violence. Proving your point, Antonio’s living hair forces you down onto the full length of his cock and leaves you next to no time to adjust.

With your last spare moments before he wrecks you, you kiss his chin and whisper, “I guess we both like a good gamble.”

Orpheus

Warnings: “knife play” adjacence, forced positivity??? idk

The golden tip of Orpheus’s quill was sharp on the spank-tender flesh of your ass. Not quite sharp enough to break skin, mind you, but certainly enough to leave angry red lines under the ink he was putting down. His hips rutted slowly against you, keeping his thrusts shallow and unsatisfying.

“Voluptuous,” Orpheus drawls behind you. He writes the word out in slow, intentioned cursive. Then he returns the quill to its nearby inkwell for a moment, running his free hand tauntingly slow up your spine. “Now your turn. How else would you describe yourself? Try for something eloquent.”

Your face is pressed into one of his luxurious pillows, fingers clutching his sheets in a death grip. All your focus is put into not fucking yourself back on Orpheus’s cock—you can’t think of any words besides his name, let alone something ‘eloquent’. He huffs out a not-laugh in response to the drawn-out groan you give him.

“Come now—” god, you wished you could— “you can do better than that. Just two more rounds and I’ll wreck you like you want.” You know he’s good for his word, at least. There is a very real finish line at the end of this particular game.

“Huuuhhh,” you moan in thought. “C-cute.” Orpheus suddenly delivers a harsh slap to your ass, and you’re sure it’s smeared some of the sprawling ink. He sighs disapprovingly.

“You can do better than that, dear. It’s like you’re not even trying. Do you want me to fuck the daylights out of you or not?” He grinds himself further into you, but still refuses any other stimulation. “Try again. Be generous, describe yourself highly.”

You wrack your brain for what you’ve read of Orpheus’s work, straining for moments where he narrated a love interest or a lovers’ tryst, how he spoke of the people in those intimate moments. But everything is blurred by lust now and thinking of those scenes only makes you more desperate for him, for the powerful, alluring writer—

“Alluring!” you gasp into the pillow.

“That’s perfect,” Orpheus praises. That gentle hand on your spine slides up, up, and grabs the back of your neck in a vice. He pushes you down with sudden ferocity and fucks you hard 1-2-3-4-5 delicious times, and then relaxes again. You choke and whine from the rough preview as he picks up the quill and writes that word in the very middle of your back. “You’re almost there, I need one more.”

“Irresistable.” That one comes easy, now that you’re just describing him. Orpheus tosses the quill over his shoulder, and grabs your hips with a growl that sends electric shocks of arousal to all your most sensitive places.

“Yes. You. Are.”

Ganji

Warnings: just a bit of dirty talk

He didn’t entirely know what he was doing, and it showed. But damn was his flushed face cute.

Ganji had wanted to wait a bit to be intimate. Inexperience, insecurities, shyness and all that. But something about the last match had really gotten him wound up and he’d looked just about ready to get on his hands and knees when he asked you to come back to his room for some ‘alone time.’ You didn’t make him beg, but this was pretty good compensation anyway, getting to ride him to exhaustion while he moans like he’s in heat.

He clutches at you a bit, blunt nails biting into the meat of your thighs, but he makes no efforts to stop or slow you. He just takes it, takes it, takes it. He takes everything you give him and holds none of his enjoyment back. He’s desperate for you, and unsatisfiable.

“Take this off,” you say, flicking the fabric of his baggy shirt, not stopping. In the rush and excitement, neither of you took much clothing off before you made it to his bed. He does as you say, holding eye contact the entire time.

“I like that expression you have,” he says after pulling his shirt over his head with one arm. You could say the same to him, you think. His eyes are intense, mouth open slightly while he pants, lips wet. You move your hands from where they were braced on the headboard, to his now-exposed torso, and run your fingers all along his toned muscles. He hums approvingly and returns the favor by sliding his hands under your shirt to push it off. “Do you like it…? Do you like how I feel?”

He's playing coy, you know, digging for more praise. But fuck is it hot in his voice. You pause only long enough for him to take your top off. Once it’s gone, he leans hesitantly closer and licks your chest. Whatever you taste like, Ganji seems to like it. His mouth latches to your collarbone the next second, sucking and biting your skin while his hands grab your waist and help your tired legs keep bouncing on his cock.

“Be a little louder for me,” you sigh, “and I’ll tell you all about how much I like you.”

Ganji doesn’t hesitate to provide. He releases the hickey he was working on in favor of singing his praises, moaning and whining and whimpering without shame. Clearly, he doesn’t care about being heard by his neighbors or passersby. He shifts a bit beneath you, and you only realize he’s braced his legs when he starts thrusting up to meet you.

“You feel so good, baby,” you coo. His eyes lock to yours again, drinking up your expression and any sweet words that fall from your lips. “You’re so sexy…You feel so good inside me, I want you to fill me up. I wanna come on your cock, honey.” Ganji’s face twists with mounting pleasure as you talk to him. He moans for you to stop, to give him a moment, but you don’t and suddenly he’s sucking air through his bared teeth and seizing up beneath you. He scrambles to make you finish with him, fumbling, stroking with one hand and bracing you for his upward thrusts with the other. And his desperation is so hot that it works. “That’s it, that’s it!”

You’re still coming down from the high when Ganji flips you both over, placing himself on top of you on his bed. His lips find your cheek, sweet and soft.

“Can you take a little more?”

#idv x reader #identity v #ganji gupta x reader #demi bourbon x reader #antonio paganini x reader #orpheus x reader #idv batter #idv violinist #idv barmaid #idv novelist #spicy content #turbulentscrawl

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