#he's gonna breed prowl good | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ushidoux · 3 years

Text

Summary: You surprise Ushijima in a bunny suit. (~1.0k words)

Warnings: nsfw, fem!reader, breeding, pet play

A/N: This is literally just smut lmfao.

(pic credit to the lovely @/goldenshoyo)

---

“You’re kidding,” said gruffly, was the first thing that came out of your boyfriend’s mouth as soon as he laid eyes on you, stepping into your home only to find you in full costume getup.

You considered that you possibly looked more silly than sexy, but you were determined to make the look work, so you had waited patiently, kneeling seductively on a chair set across from the entrance to greet him clad in a pure white bunny suit. It was extravagantly made - your leotard’s soft satin fabric was interrupted with a delicate lace to partially expose your midriff, and a sweetheart neckline accentuated both your breasts and the new white collar on your neck with Toshi’s Bunny written in a very noticeable hot pink. Large floppy ears atop your head completed the theme, pink and white, and you pouted your lips at him in response to his unreadable expression.

Your frown wasn’t meant to be cute, but you were cute.

Wakatoshi’s gym bag dropped to his side, and he didn’t say a word. For a moment you considered that you hadn’t even managed to look silly, just stupid.

“You don’t like it?” You whispered in a small voice. His hazel eyes twinkled and his lips pulled into a small smirk.

Ushijima whisking you out of your chair and slinging over his shoulder with ease in an instant even more clearly indicated otherwise. You couldn’t resist a surprised yelp at the rapid movement, but his arm kept you secure against him.

He did, however, unceremoniously dump you on your bare bottom cushioned by the plush mattress of your California King bed.

“Toshi!” You hissed, and he grunted a soft “Sorry” in response but he was already prowling towards you on hands and knees, and you found yourself backing away like the prey animal you had just been trying to invoke now that you weren’t so sure about the look in his eye.

The look that said, I’m absolutely going to beat that pussy up.

“C’mere.”

His hands quickly gripped you by your hips and dragged you towards him so that you were no longer seated with your back against the backboard, but lying flat with your eyes to the ceiling, splayed out for him. He hovered over you, ravenous, pulling off his shirt hastily and tossing it haphazardly behind him before reassuming his position.

You stared transfixed at the shift of his muscles as he disrobed, heat invading your thighs, distracted enough that you almost missed what he was saying to you.

“What does your collar say?”

His eyes were dark, and you could tell he had repeated himself because he frowned slightly, fingers tapping the soft plastic of the collar around your neck bearing his nickname.

Your breath hitched in your throat. He wanted you to say it, he wanted to hear it come out of your mouth. You could see the muscles of his chest rise and fall with his breath growing heavy, holding back his desire for you, but only barely.

“T-Toshi’s bunny-”

“Yes. Mine.”

His lips crashed onto yours roughly, teeth sinking onto your bottom lip while he made quick work of exposing your bosom with a free hand and softly massaging a breast.

“My cute, soft, little bunny…,” he murmured, against your lips, as he explored your mouth with his tongue.

A hand parted your thighs while he pressed his weight against you, almost knocking the air out of your lungs; a rip that could only be your sheer tights being torn off your thighs sounded through the air above you. Bare flesh now exposed, his thick fingers traveled up the hole towards your hole, forcing their way to your wet cunt in the tight space.

When his digits hit the spot that made you cling to him desperately, fingernails digging into the flesh of his back, Wakatoshi let out a soft sigh to match your moan and you could feel his girthy cock swell even more, pulsating with desire against your exposed center.

He lifted up off of you just enough to hastily tear the sliver of fabric covering your cunt, not wanting anything to impede his access to you and he patted your pussy once, twice, then a third time for good measure before lining up against your entrance.

“I’m gonna breed you my little baby bunny. Gonna fill you up with so much cum,” he promised with hands gripping your shoulders, as he rubbed his hard cock up and down against your wet slit, making your body shiver.

“P-please Toshi… please fill me up,” you whined, squirming with every incomplete contact of his length against your sopping cunt. He was teasing you, you wanted him in, not against you, and you glanced up at him with longing. Your Ushijima’s eyes were fierce but somehow he looked just the slightest bit entertained by how disheveled you looked from the smear of your makeup, the bunny ears that were now lopsided in your tousled hair, and the tattered remains of your previously pristine suit.

And now he was gonna ruin you further by shoving his cock repeatedly into you.

“Hold still, princess,” he murmured, a large hand closing around your throat right at the level of the collar that designated you as his. He lowered down for another kiss before gripping the headboard and entering you in a slow, yet fluid motion. You whimpered at the painful stretch as he seated himself fully inside you, him finally releasing the gentle pressure on your throat to caress the side of your face then shove his thumb down your throat.

He stayed still for just a moment, letting you adjust before he started moving at all, pressing soft pecks to your lowered eyelids.

“Little bunny?” he called for you, massaging up and down your thighs to distract you from the fact that you were just short of being split entirely open on the monstrosity he called a cock at this very moment.

No matter how often you fucked, you were only human after all.

“Y-yes, Toshi,” you eked out in a slightly wavering voice. He smiled, right before anchoring your already trembling legs over his shoulders.

“Hold on tight, okay?” He secured your ankles around his neck before kissing the side of your thighs. “I am quite excited and I think I might want to pound a whole litter into you.”

The simple gravity of the words themselves were already winding you up, but when he started moving, it didn’t take more than a few strokes to have you already clenching, creaming, screaming around his cock.

And you would continue to do so for the next couple of hours.

He must have really liked the outfit after all.

#ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima x reader #wakatoshi x reader #haikyuu smut #ushijima #ushijima smut #ushijima wakatoshi #not sfw #fic: toshi's bunny #mae.writing

1K notes · View notes

bakatenshii · 4 years

Text

Flushed

Dabi x Reader (BNHA)

word count: 5.1k

TW: 18+, smut, dub/noncon, drug use/abuse, corruption, virginity, (mild) blood

A/N: I am 12 days late for Sunny’s birthday, but my heart beats for one person and one person only— the light of my life, my wife @blahkugo, who wrote me two (2!!) Shig fics for my bday Charity & Sludge, that I reread on the daily like the morning news. Cheeky shoutout to @thisisthehardestthing for writing one iconic sentence in here that I would have framed if I could.

flushed

/fləSHt/

(of a person's skin) red and hot, typically as the result of illness or strong emotion.

cleanse (something) by causing large quantities of water to pass through it.

Dabi doesn’t prowl for prey, he’s not on the lookout for fowl to take home for dinner. No, they come to him. It’s easy, always so obvious, he plucks them out like chicken in a hen house, ripe for breeding.

It wasn’t hard to spot a desperate girl burning out, Hell, the campus’ full of them. But you had something more, something fun, something that made his lips quirk up and his dick twitch— you were uncorrupted.

He can just tell, despite the airs you try to give, the aura of a virgin’s akin to an omega in heat to a starving alpha. Sweet, honeysuckle, the tiny flinches when a man gets too close, the breathy lilt in your voice when they propose something too risque; he inhales it all, commits it all to memory like you were desperately trying to do as you chewed on the tip of your pen and scratched out lines on the book in front of you.

He didn’t need to push, you were already teetering the line, but he did it anyways— because it was fun.

It was elating to watch you stumble into class the next day, eyes dark with sleepless anxiety, misery painted into every crevice of your features while your notes were tucked neatly into the drawer in his room. Really, you shouldn’t have left them so open on the lecture hall table, it’s like inviting a robber home and cooking him a three course meal.

Finals season marked the end of your social life, and the beginning of Dabi’s career. It was almost boring, the repetitive nature of his job; too easy, too simple, a mockery of the entitled bookworms who look down on scummy repeaters like him. But the entitlement is what fuels him, over-achievers fearing for two simple digits on a crumpled sheet of paper as if it’s worse than death itself.

He thrives off of their stubbornness to accept anything below perfect; the hilarity of it all, the irony that their insurance to achieve higher standards than that of a scum like him only fuels his lifestyle, bringing him deeper down the depths of degeneracy.

He sat behind you closer than usual, spoke a lil louder than usual, dropped in the most nonchalant comment about a study drug kids are crazing over these days. He watched as you flinched, hands stopped moving to listen in to the spiel he was spewing, the fishing hook he was dangling in front of you.

A magic pill, one that’ll help you concentrate, kill any sleepiness, get you buzzed for hours on end— best of all, it’s totally legal, he gets it from a pharmacist, scout’s honour.

That’s what he told you when you turned around to him at the end of class, whispering in hushed fear, nerves bouncing off your skin in goosebumps on your exposed arms.

Why he’s selling it? Because he needs some extra cash, he said. He knew you didn’t believe him, but he knew you were desperate enough not to care.

When you met him in the dead of night at the empty carpark of his building, he knew he’s got you; hook, line, and sinker. No self-respecting girl would meet bottom-barrel trash like him in a deserted location at half three in the morning, no, you were untainted, but you weren’t pure.

He didn’t need to know it worked, doesn’t matter what your test results reflected, all that mattered was that you came back to him a few weeks later, met him at the same dingy carpark, hands trembling slightly less this time.

He pretended to scold you, reveled in the way your lips curled into a soft pout, and warned you that tolerance builds fast. Do it in moderation, he had said— he’s the world’s biggest hypocrite.

You came to him only a week later this time, and Dabi had pretended to be shocked. He wasn’t, he gave you a lower dosage the last time, there was no way you’d have been satisfied. Microdosing leads the unsuspecting to addiction, the one fact he learned from school. He lectured you, asked you if you’d built up tolerance too fast, if you wanted to try something different?

He watched as your eyes lit up, pupils dilating in excitement at the promise of something different, something better. It really was too easy. You were too easy.

That night he invited himself over to yours, said he’d wanted to make sure you didn’t have any side effects. It was new, after all, and it was stronger. He’d sit there and be quiet, he promised; it was all out of the kindness of his own heart.

It was almost embarrassing how eagerly you’d lie to yourself in hopes of a better grade.

Dabi wasn’t gonna do anything to you that night, trust takes time to build up after all. Besides, it’s no fun to pounce on the prey before they started running. You studied the nonsensical scribbling on annotated novels, he studied your tiny movements, twitches, nervous habits; etched them into his brain for future use.

A too-long breath, a gasp, a clench of the fist signaled your come-up. He timed it, approximately thirty-five minutes for the initial peak, then smaller spikes at half hour intervals, totaling in four hours before you came down. Impressive, still, considering he’d given you the same dosage as the first time.

He stuck to his words, staying quiet only until prompted, offered you water every once in a while, really, he deserved an Oscar for playing the best supporting dealer. It only took two more sessions before your tolerance peaked again, calculated and timed to perfection right before the next assignment.

The beauty of seeking out an English major was that they’re always searching, reaching into the void for any type of inspiration to translate into eloquently formed words. The beauty of seeking out you, was that you were already in too deep, hooked by the lil pills and plunged into the bottom of the ocean.

Your grades rose while your inhibitions sank, a dramatic irony, isn’t that what they called it?

It’s cute, really, he only had to give you a nudge this time. Asked you how your assignment was going, played the sympathetic friend, and offered you something completely new, completely different. ‘Have you ever tried 2CB?’

Silly question, rhetorical, almost; of course you hadn’t. Innocent sweet girl like you never would’ve even touched weed, much less a hallucinogen. But he poses it to you in an eager tone like he’s genuinely waiting on an answer, like this isn’t just one big game to him. He laughed when you said no, asked him what it was— do you want him to show you?

You trust him, don’t you? He’s helped you through your exams, supported you through your assignments, honestly, he deserved a pat on the back. Don’t tell him you didn’t trust him, come on now, that’d break his heart.

He didn’t expect you to put up a fight, but you gave in almost too easily, guess those lil pills really did migrate and nest in your bloodstream.

The safety of your own dorm room was always granted to you, a faux-sense of security to veil you in, shield you from the true depth of depravity you’ve sunken to. He held you underwater in a net, ensuring you that he’d pull you up whenever— ‘just say the word.’

The net had long been cut, he’d admired the way you’d comforted down there, paddling aimlessly in hopeful conviction.

It’s become routine, almost. Dabi lets himself in easily, settles into the couch across your desk, pulls out a baggy and passes it to you. “A psychedelic,” he explains, “you’ll see colours you’d never seen, find beauty in everything, an artist’s best friend,” if he does say so himself.

He watches you pop the lil pill in your mouth, follow the stream of water pour down your throat, traveling the rips and divots of your tongue, before it drops down your throat into your bloodstream with a bob of your larynx. You’re so pliant, so obedient, he reminds himself to thank your parents for grooming such a cute lil doll.

You let out a loud gasp an hour and a half later, and he watches your fingers curl into themselves; and for the first time he speaks unprompted.

“You good?” It’s almost genuine; the curiosity, at least. He wants to know how articulate you are, needs to know how deeply submerged your consciousness has become.

He watches as you meet his gaze, little tongue dashing out to wet your lips, and nods once, twice, slowly. You shake your head almost immediately after, croaking out an, “I feel ill,” before pushing meekly at your desk to stand your body up. Cute, weak.

Just how he likes them.

He reaches an arm out to you, pulling you into his chest easily and nests your head into the crook of his neck. “Nauseous, aren’t you?” You nod, and he smirks. “Don’t worry princess, it’s just a rough come-up. I’ll make you feel better, I promise.”

It’s almost believable, how sickly sweet he sounds. Too many sitcoms accumulated in recycled dialogues to woo girls in any situation; mix and match, simple yet effective.

He can feel the restless rise and fall of your chest pressing against his, short quick pants as if gasping for air, a small hand scraping at his arm; yeah, you’re definitely coming up.

He picks you up and nestles you into your own couch, so easily as if handling a ragdoll, then walks to the kitchen and pours you some water. The perfect friend, the perfect support, the perfect dealer. You’re so vulnerable, so exposed, you don’t even know it; it makes his brain fog over with carnal desire to pounce— but he doesn’t. Not yet.

He lays back on the couch with you, arm snaking around your shoulder to coax you into a subdued euphoria. All the words he’s garnered throughout the years of fishing for his next meal come bubbling out so naturally in practiced scripts, “It’s okay princess, it’s a stronger pill. It’ll make you feel better, I promise.” He’s promising a whole lot, tonight.

“Hey,” he tips your face to meet his with all the tenderness of a lion stalking its prey, “I’m here, right? You trust me, don’t you? I’ve never let you down. I’ll never let anything happen to you.”

It’s hard to force down the gagging noise on cue with his disgustingly fake, rom-com lines, but the way he can feel your body loosen, relax, and mold into his tells him he’s close. So close.

This is the best part, this is what he’s good at; the last stretch of patience while stalking his prey, with footsteps so light, treading so carefully, until the air slows down around him and he can taste your scent wafting through the air.

It happens in an instant, a whole-body jolt as you tense up, euphoria announced with a sharp gasp. The smile that crawls up his face is nothing short of sinister, predatory, but he knows you don’t notice. You can’t. Your eyes are strewn shut, basking in the high, and he takes the moment to swallow the pill he’s held under his tongue.

It’s no fun to tripsit, he doesn’t get anything out of that, and Dabi doesn’t do things for free. He feels your head fall back onto his shoulder, short breaths warming a ripple of goosebumps up his neck, and watches as you push your heavy lids open to gaze at the ceiling.

He can feel your giggles reverberating through his chest before he hears them, innocent, pure, unsuspecting. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, because virtuous girls like you like to be treasured, made to feel special, safe— he can make you feel safe; no one’s told him not to play with his food before he eats it.

He watches as you flutter your eyelids at him, sigh into his touch, really, you’re the textbook prototype, he doesn’t even need to adjust his tactics. “You feelin’ good?” A hot breath into your ear, and he revels in the way your lips pout to let out a soft sigh.

Funny how differently you react when you’re high out of your mind, maybe it’s the drug, or maybe it’s just Dabi? You’ve always wanted a bad boy like him, didn’t you? Good girls like bad guys; it’s textbook cliché, and you’re the blueprint.

He doesn’t wait on an answer, he knows it: you’re feeling good, great— divine. He’ll be right there with you soon, he promises.

“Tell me what you see, princess,” Dabi’s not listening when a cascade of nonsensical descriptions come bubbling out, he doesn’t care. It’s all to get you to keep talking, shift your attention elsewhere while his hand slithers down your arm to play with the hem of your shirt.

At the first brush of his finger on the bare skin of your waist, he feels you purr into him, eyes rolling back in bliss. It’s his cue to give you more, invitation for him to snake his other hand up your naked thigh and knead the flesh gently.

Gentle does it, he’ll bring you higher as you go.

He ghosts a breath just under your ear, nipping at your lobe, and admires the full body shiver tumbling through. Moans, loud and needy, come panting out past your lips and echoes off the walls before bouncing back to him. He lets you symphonize short breaths and whiney pleas with each lick and suck traveling down your neck, painting blooms of purple and red as his hand travels dangerously high.

A firm grip is all the warning he gives you before he tucks his fingers into the crease of your thigh, laughing almost at how obediently you spread your legs. What happened to that pure, innocent girl? Guess under all that laid a dirty whore, just like the rest of ‘em.

It was slick, so wet, pussy dripping past the delicate lace and drooling over his fingers. Lace, befitting of a slut who lured him in with the fake charms of a virgin. He slides a finger down your slit, gathering up all the juices before presenting it to you.

“What do you see?” He holds up his finger, slick dripping down like syrup, and watches your pupils dilate in effort to focus. He can see the way your lips part, string of saliva connecting the two soft molds, before gasping out, “melting ice cream.”

“Want a taste?”

You clamp over his finger before he even asks you to, sucks on the digit like it’s a melting ice lolly, before your eyes shoot open and mouth twists in disgust. Of course it doesn’t taste nice, normal food isn’t even edible when you’re rolling like this. You’re sticking your tongue out, in an attempt to air out the taste, or maybe you’re just a dumb dog, a dumb bitch, he’s not sure. He doesn’t really care.

The same hand, now slick with saliva, grips your chin and crashes your lips into his. His tongue finds yours first, tip licking up the crevice of yours lolling out, and he sucks it into his mouth like it’s a crime for it to be kissing the air.

There’s no modesty, no gentleness, his tongue pries your lips open, and he feels the weakest form of resistance before he’s thrusting the muscle down your throat. He lapping over the back of your teeth, traces over each bump and rugae on the gummy sides, and snickers at your shit attempt to kiss him back with your slack mouth drooling out the corners.

He feels a pawing at his arm— your hand meekly grabbing at the sleeve of his shirt to bring him in closer, press his chest into your soft tits, crowd him into you more, more, more.

It’s cute; it’s stupidly desperate.

He gets it though, it’s no worries. Human nature is all it is; the desire to climb higher and higher— he wonders if he can get one out of you before the pill hits him.

There’s no gentleness in the way his hand slots between your legs and cups your dripping cunt this time. He wishes he has more time to admire the way your legs quiver and twitch with every firm pat against your clit, but he’s on a time crunch. There’s so much time to spare, he can play with it all he wants later.

He can feel your needy moan vibrate through his lips and reverberate straight into his brain, sloppy mouths working simultaneously together and against each other as he rips your panties and shorts off in one go. Any self respecting girl would shut their legs in shame, in embarrassment, any attempt to protect their dignity, but you don’t. He doesn’t let you, anyways.

A hand moves under your shirt to roughly grip at your tits in the same breath he sinks a finger into your sopping hole. Inhale; squeeze, thrust, exhale— you moan. It’s tight, as tight as a virgin pussy should be, but not too tight that it fights against the foreign digit ramming into it at a relentless pace too rough and quick to befit an unexplored hole.

He can feel the pulsing around him, gummy walls milking his finger for all its worth, and he digs his palm into your swollen bud; it’s all he needed for you to come undone. You don’t squeal, you don’t scream, the 2CB in your system rendering you incapable of anything except long breathy sobs of his name.

His finger pops out with a wet squelch, and he brings it to his mouth to taste it; tarty, thick— he’s still sober. You’re blubbering out drivel about the stars you saw, the colours swirling around at the peak of your euphoria, you think you saw God— is Dabi God?

Dabi had to laugh, pat you on the head with his hand covered in syrupy slick, watch it leak and clump your strands of hair. He picks you up with your shorts and panties drenched through dangling at your ankles, and walks you to your bed.

You don’t notice, still basking in the afterglow; he knows this. Not that you’d push him off, tell him to stop. Not in your state anyways. You couldn’t even if you wanted to.

He drops you once the bed’s in frame at the same time he feels his pulse rise, heart palpitate, and a wave of nausea threatens to bubble over. It doesn’t; he doesn’t let it. An experienced veteran would never. It’s a welcomed sensation, one he’s all too familiar with, and he gives himself a brief minute to breathe it in, savour it, before glancing back down at your limp body on the bed.

Is it your body? He can trace your silhouette from the dip of your waist, the full of your hips, something glistening, gleaming in the light— your pretty little virgin cunt. His eyes roll back at the next inhale before he finds himself landing on the bed on top of you, forearms digging into the soft mattress of your bed.

He hears your voice singing into his brain, soft lulls of his name stringing out in DabiDabiDabi— the desperation and need shooting straight to his cock, he doesn’t even need to look down at your soft pliant body, welcoming him, inviting him in.

“Feels good, yeah?” His voice comes out rougher than usual, low and strained, and laughs at how eagerly you nod, watches your chin catch the air and paint strokes of colour following the route it takes, “Who makes you feel this good?”

He knows, he knows because it’s all you’ve been able to say the past while, the only word on your mind that you can even blubber out—

“You, Dabi,” your pants grow heavier; his pants grow tighter, “it’s you Dabi, please—“

A hand reaches up to cradle his cheek, your soft, uncalloused, hand, and he grips it by the wrist before bringing it up to his face. He traces every line that curves and meets on your palm with his tongue, letting it be covered entirely with drool before wrenching it down under his joggers and into his boxers to cup his aching erection.

His hips rut into your palm almost immediately as a knee-jerk reaction, every hump into your tiny hand has him panting into your face, sweat beading at his temples. His tongue drops down to lick at your lips, asking for entrance, begging for access. Your lips might’ve parted just a fraction, maybe just to let out a breathe, but Dabi takes it as permission to thrust his tongue in and prod at your dormant one.

He can feel you gag at the sudden intrusion, throat convulsing to push back the unfamiliar slimy muscle, and he briefly considers yanking your hand out and shoving his cock down that pretty little mouth of yours.

But he doesn’t, because he doesn’t have the patience. He needs it urgently, needs your tight virgin cunny stretching and agonizing over his overbearing size, needs to feel the flutter of the gummy walls with each thrust; he needs it bad, he needs it now—

Your hand is wrenched away as he yanks both waistbands down to his thighs. He looks at you, eyes blurring through kaleidoscopic vision, and makes out your disoriented gaze staring back at him. Disoriented with toxins, disoriented with need, lust, desperation— a hand reaches behind Dabi’s neck and pulls him back down to crash bruised lips together.

It’s all the invitation he needs, not that he needs it, no, what he needs is to sink his painfully hard cock into that sweet, sweet cunt of yours. There’s a faint squealing coming from underneath him, and he thinks he can feel nails digging crescents into his nape, but all he can feel is your warm, wet walls clenching around him.

There was no need to prepare you for any longer, there’s no point if he doesn’t stretch your virgin pussy out with his own cock; it’s wasted on fingers, his fingers don’t deserve to feel the way you walls quiver and contract around it. The pitched cries stop eventually as he feels your body go pliant and soft, and he has half a mind to realize you’re probably starting to come down soon.

He doesn’t wanna deal with that, you won’t be sober for another few hours, but you’ve peaked already, and not with him; that’s not fair, that’s no fun. His cock stills inside you with half still unsheathed and he reaches down into his pocket to take out a baggy of powder. There’s a spoon in, thank fuck, and he feeds a small bump right up to your nose.

“Inhale,” he slots it right up your nostril, “it’ll make you feel good, didn’t you feel good?” Your head lowers to nod, bumps the edge of the spoon right into the cartilage of your nose, and inhale. Good girl.

The baggy is tossed haphazardly before he’s working his dick into you again, cockhead pushing through the doughy walls in search of that pocket at the end of your pussy.

You don’t struggle anymore, instead clinging onto his shoulders and carving half-moons into the flesh. It hurts a lil, and Dabi doesn’t like it when it hurts, not when he’s the one hurting.

He snatches your hands off him and pushes them above your head, into the plush forgiving mattress. His teeth are back on your neck, biting over the ripples of purple and green and red and blue, reveling in your cries and moans that come out in symphonies.

It feels good, great— divine, it’s what he deserves for bringing you to Nirvana. He’s basically your muse, after all, how can you truly describe rapture without experiencing it first?

He can hear your moans ringing out from underneath, can see them traveling in the air in hues of reds and pinks and reds and reds— there’s red on your bedsheets, of course there is. He forgot that’s what comes with a virgin cunt; blood, mixing with the translucent coating his cock, dripping down and painting the crisp white sheet red, drifting into the air and congesting the whole room with red.

He inhales the colour, sucks it into his lungs, and uses it to fuel the pistoning of his hips. Your breaths turn to pants, turns to sobs of his name leaving your lips again, and he thinks you look good, so good, taking his cock like this. You should thank him for bringing you to your second orgasm.

Just look at you, crazy isn’t it? Crazy what a lil pill can do. But he’s got something better, something so much better, something that’ll bring you to a new dimension. You want that, don’t you? C’mon don’t be shy, Dabi will bring you right there, don’t you worry.

There’s still the faint cries from your orgasm when he flips you over and pushes your face into the untainted sheets. He watches as your hands sprawl up to grip and grasp at something, anything, and his hands ease up on the hold on your skull for a second to let you wheeze and greedily gasp for air.

He flickers a trail of blue down your back, watches the flames dance and rage in a mirage, every bouquet indented by the ligament of each tender rib, and there’s a faint scream. The pitch rises with the flames, taunting it to go higher, faster, paint murals in every swell of your back until he can’t see anything except ash coal char.

Dabi blinks, squints his eyes as he throws his head back to focus on the paint chipping on the ceiling. It cracks and crinkles, shying away from his pointed glare, before he sucks in a deep breath and looks back down at you.

There’s no ash, no char, only warm tanned flesh, pressed flush against the pristine white sheets underneath. It burns against the pads of his long fingers splayed out across your back, and he winces in annoyance at the irony.

You don’t seem to notice his pause, too fucked out or fucked up to register what’s going around you probably. A mixture of both; Dabi can’t really remember what he’s given you or how long he’s been there.

He can’t decide if he wants to stay there anymore, can’t make out the pros and cons of either. He counts them off with each painful yank of your hair, each harsh thrust into your abused virgin cunt— it was that, wasn’t it?

He was there because he sniffed out a cute lil virgin, one so untainted and untouched, one begging for him to corrupt. He’s not known to be very generous, but sometimes he gets into one of those moods; it can’t be helped when there’s a desperate doll waiting to be torn apart.

He knows what you want, can read you with his eyes closed— you don’t need eyes to feel the pulse of a greedy cunny; it clenches with every slap of the face, damn near clamps down entirely as his slender fingers slither around to the front of your throat.

Two fingers shove past your lolling tongue and yanks your head back by the digits hooked on the corner of your mouth. There’s drool, and spit, and so many fluids coming and entering all at once— and then you’re coming, again, probably, for the third time that night. Fourth?

It’s methodical, straightforward, he reads the instruction manual once, maybe twice if the first one’s a bit faulty, and he’s got it down to muscle memory.

At the sound of heaving he looks back down again, admires the feel of two of his fingertips fucked straight into the back of your throat, and pushes down on the rugged gummy wall. You gag, and he laughs. It’s cute, so cute, you’re real cute, you know?

“Such a good lil whore aren’t you?” He digs his nails into the flesh of your hip and rams his cockhead until he can feel the kiss from your puckered cervix. “All fucked out of your mind, bet you can’t even hear me, can you?”

He watches as you gurgle out words past his fingers wedged down your slack mouth, and choke on the pools of saliva drooling out. It’s the funniest sight, fascinates him to death, really.

A slap to the face might bring you out of your daze, so he slips his hand back out of your sloppy mouth and revels at your body propelling forward straight into the headboard. He grasps at the tips of your hair and wrench your body back towards him before any satisfying impact could sound out. It’s a shame, but concussions are not in his agenda.

“Been fucked so loose, filthy slut can’t even keep your body up,” he rolls your hair around his hands and yanks back until your skull meets his chin; it’s excruciatingly painful, probably, and that’s why it’s the best.

It’s the perfect way for your mouth to fall open naturally, to scream, squeal, fluster around in attempt to be freed from the position— it creates the perfect hole for him to spit in. He watches as your face contorts in disgust, tongue pushed out to let his spit drool out the sides, but that’s no fun, not very nice of you, is it?

“Swallow,” he assists you with an extra hard thrust, and you choke on the moan coming out. His hand comes forward from your hip to rest under your chin before pushing it up so it clamps shut, “I said, swallow.”

Your eyes flood with tears that waterfall down your face, and God, he thinks you look the best like this— wrecked on his cock, body littered in purple and red, covered in sweat and blood and cum; his perfect lil cocksleeve, just for him.

It’s emotional, almost— religious, even, he can feel the palpitations in his heart thumping against his chest echoing off the headboard banging against the wall, and lets the euphoria consume him, wash over him as he coats your walls with hot ropes of cream and white, hips stuttering with your greedy cunny fluttering and clenching around it, milking and sucking in his cock in deeper, deeper, more.

He thinks you might’ve cum, might still be cumming, but all he can hear is the Messiah calling for him, choir singing lulling him into an infinite jubilation; he closes his eyes to bathe in it, let himself be cleansed and washed over with ecstasy.

When he pulls out, your body flops onto the mattress, and he watches as white dribbles out your quivering hole, mixing with the red on the sheets, creating a puddle of pink and magenta, before passing out in the fuschia.

2K notes · View notes

miscellaneous-bnha · 4 years

Text

Naga Aizawa AU

As requested by 🍄 anon.

Unfortunately, this is not a part of the Untitled AU (I’m sticking to calling it that even though I named it), but I’m really glad that I had a chance to write about Naga Aizawa anyway. 🍄 anon is my savior.

—————————

THIS CONTENT CONTAINS OVIPOSITION, BREEDING, AND ONE (1) TIRED SNAKE MAN. DON’T LIKE, DON’T READ. ALSO, IT’S A LONG ONE.

- Aizawa as a Naga in general would be interesting.

- I can def see him sleeping all curled up in sun spots through the day, only really moving when he wants to.

- But then he becomes much more active at night, on the prowl for prey and potential threats to his territory.

- Unusual seeing how cold it can get at night, but effective for him seeing as he blended quite well into the dark with his midnight tail and markings.

- Regardless, as far as he’s concerned, nobody really has the guts to challenge him at this point.

- At least, that was until he met you.

- The scared little mouse that had lost their way into his territory.

- You had heard rumors of half snake people living in these parts, and you really weren’t trying to stray away from the path

- But it was like something in the forest itself was calling out to you.

- According to local legend, the voice of the forest would lead you to your soulmate so long as they were in the forest at the same time as you

- But as you were trembling under the gaze of the Naga before you, the legends felt like cruel, whispery lies to give you false hope

- Now was hardly the time to worry about that, however, considering he looked quite upset to have been interrupted.

- Before you could scramble back to your feet, he was upon you, coiled around you without actually touching you, making you feel trapped and small.

- “Hmmm....” the baritone of his voice sent a chill through you, half with fear and half with mild arousal. You cursed your ape brain silently, squeezing your body tighter.

- “What is a little mouse like you...” he finally touches you, tipping your head to look up at him with a finger under your chin, “.. doing so far away from the path. Hmm?”

- Your lips only tremble as you try to speak, but he presses a finger to your lips to keep you from attempting to speak anyway.

- “No matter... you’re quite lost now aren’t you?” you can only nod, refusing to tear your eyes away.

- You already know that you would never be able to react in time, but your instincts still tell you to keep your eyes locked on him.

- “I figured as much. Unfortunately for you—“ he points up to the darkening sky, “— the sun is going down, and you wouldn’t make it back to town at this rate even if you tried.”

- You swallowed hard, knowing he was right. Maybe the universe really is playing a cruel joke on you.

- He chuckles, running his hand through your hair and ruffling it.

- “Relax, you’re gonna be okay. Human isn’t my first, second, or third choice in food. I’ll bring you to my den to stay the night and lead you back to the trail tomorrow.”

- You squint hard, nose scrunching with doubt.

- “No need for such a sour face, little mouse. If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it by now.” He winks, “Besides, people get lost all the time; the people of town already know who I am by this point.”

- You furrow your brows, but you suppose he was right. If he really did want to cause harm, you wouldn’t be here pondering the legitimacy of his words. It also made sense about how the village seemed to know of supernatural creatures such as Nagas in extreme detail.

- You figured that— worst case scenario— you were dead either way, and your best bet would be to go with the Naga for now.

- He watches you climb to your feet, shuffling a bit. “... That would be really great, thank you.”

- He smirks and blows a slight laugh out through his nose, unraveling his tail as he moves to lead the way. “Th’ name’s Shouta Aizawa, and who might you be?”

——————————

- You wake up the following morning to the sound of crashing thunder and heavy rain pouring outside his den.

- You rub your eyes blearily, bits and pieces of the night before slowly coming back to you.

- You remember following Aizawa to his den, keeping good on his promise not to eat you as you slept.

- The conversation as he led you through the darkening woods was really quite insightful; what kind of (snake?)person he is, what he does in the area. The kinds of goods he trades with the village nearby.

- You were shocked to learn that the forest doesn’t only serve as home for Nagas, but harpies, sirens, and elemental spirits too. “And those are just a few of the people I know.”

- Though he pretended to be annoyed with talking about his blond haired harpy and the pale-blue haired water spirit friends, the shine in his eye gave him away; he definitely cares a whole lot more than his demeanor suggests.

- It was endearing.

-But that was then and this is now, and “the now” meant you would be stuck in Aizawa’s den for a lot longer than originally intended.

- “It’s no problem,” he’d said once he caught sight of your worried face, “we have more than enough supplies to last us a good long while. Comfortably, if I might add.”

- At that point, you were worried less about supplies and more about the fact that you didn’t want to intrude. “If only I hadn’t wandered off the path...”

- “Hey now, no need to start thinking like that now. You never meant to get lost, and this sudden downpour certainly isn’t your fault—“ the glare he suddenly shot outside made you curious, “— so don't worry about it, yeah?”

- Except, by the fourth week of non-stop rain, it was safe to say you were concerned.

- Sure, it did lighten up to a measly drizzle here and there, but the muddy ground was too unstable to try and traverse without risk. The chances of causing a landslide was too great.

- So it was with a guilty— mostly because of your silent cheers with each rainy day you woke up to— heart you shared yet another cup of tea, lounging back within Aizawa’s coils.

- The two of you had grown particularly close in your time staying here. Though you were originally concerned about the state of your clothing, it turned out that Aizawa had quite the collection in case of situations like these

- So alas, the two of you spent the day chatting away as usual.

- He has been in the middle of telling a particularly interesting story when you suddenly found yourself zoning out at the slight stubble on his sharp jawline

- You supposed it really shouldn’t come as a surprise to you, seeing the ‘nature’ of his species, but you were surprised to see someone so inactive also be so amazingly fit at the same time.

- You don’t know when he had stopped talking, or when the two of you had started falling into each other’s gaze

- But you definitely felt the moment when your lips pressed against his. Starting as shy little pecks until he started to press deeper, coils shifting as he brought you closer to him

- Hands setting your drinks aside, you wrap your arms around his neck as he traps you between a comfortable crook in his tail and his body, his hands resting on your hips

- Your head starts to grow clouded the longer you kiss him, a slight tang similar to citrus but as sweet as candy hits your tongue and suddenly he’s pulling back

- His eyes are blown wide, but you can see the struggle on his features as he catches his breath

- “Shit..” he presses his face into your neck, “I shouldn’t have lost control like that... are you alright?”

- You’re confused by his statement. Surely, he was asking if you were okay with him kissing you, but somehow you knew that wasn’t really what he was asking

- Your thoughts start to wander a little as you start to feel a low burn settle deep in your belly, and you’re almost amused by the idea that Nagas do— in fact— have aphrodisiac properties in their venom

- You can almost tell the exact moment when your eyes become completely glossed over, wet with desire and clouded with need.

- “Fuck... I’m sorry. I should have been more aware. I’ll get some water to help flush out my venom-“ he pauses when he notices the unhappy furrow in your brow.

- “Do... do you not like me like that?” You blurt out before you can stop to think about it.

- he hesitates and you close your eyes, disappointment charging through you, but suddenly they’re open again when he coils around you tighter, chest crushing against your own as he presses his face into the side of your head

- “Of course I do... but I didn’t want it to go this way. I shouldn’t have stayed so close while in my rut like this.”

- “Your rut?”

- he nods solemnly, sighing as he runs a hand through his hair

- “It started some time about a week ago... when I first realized that I’m attracted to you... emotionally and physically.” He presses his nose to your temple and inhales deeply “But I’ve been tryna keep quiet about it... wanted to give you the choice to go if y’wanted.”

- You can hear his words start to slur together. “Y’can stay if y’want... but if y’don’t go now, I won’t be lettin’ ya go. At least not without me.”

- You’re already nodding before you can even think about it.

- “Of course I want to stay... if you’ll have me.”

- There’s a deep rumble reminiscent of a growl in his chest

- “Of course I’ll have you. There’s no one else I’d rather have, little one.”

- You felt a strong shudder run down the length of your spine, but you weren’t given much time to dwell on it before his lips were devouring yours once more, the tangy sweet taste of his venom coming back tenfold.

- The haze of arousal consuming you, however, would have been just as powerful without it.

- The passage of time became non-existent the further you fell into his heat, the more you felt your body give in until you could barely bring yourself to do anything but lay back in his coils

- You felt like you were floating in his arms, giving yourself away completely to his wants and whims, the sultry sound of his voice carrying you through the haze.

- A part of you felt like you should have been more embarrassed; it’s only been about a month since you’ve met this man in a forest you’ve never been to before on an island you don’t even live on, but the thought floated away before you could get a grasp on it.

- “What’s wrong, little mouse?” His nose was buried in your hair, chest puffing with every deep breath he took.

- You shake your head sluggishly, body growing ever warmer as you attempt to pull the baggy sweater off your body. His calloused but gentle hands brushing your middle as he helps you pull it up and off

- The anticipation of what would be coming buzzed under your skin like electricity, but your inability to move very much hindered your movements to try and get him to move faster.

- Sensing your impatience, he merely chuckled before pressing yet another heavy kiss to your lips, the taste of the aphrodisiac thick on his tongue, filling your senses once again.

- You felt your eyes drift shut, your head tipping back as you let out a deep, satisfied sigh, wet lips pressing against the side of your throat, his stubble scraping against you gently. You could barely process the feeling of his teeth grazing against your shoulder before a finger slowly pushed into your hole, curling into that perfect little spot that had stars flashing behind your eyelids.

- The noises you were making sounded muffled to your own ears, heaving breaths silenced by the sound of his low hums and wet lips sucking at your skin. Low words of praise left his lips in abundance, as if keeping them in would be like trying to stop a flood with a lone pebble

- You felt yourself drifting along with the pleasure again, arms stretching above your head as he slowly added two more fingers, mouth pressed close to your ear as he murmured all the things he wanted to do.

- “Gonna fill you up… ruin you completely for any other person.”

- “Gonna make you so full and heavy.”

- “Gotta stretch this tight little hole open... don’t wanna hurt you with my cocks.”

- Your eyes cracked open at the sound of that. Cocks? As in more than one?

- You unconsciously tense at that, causing him to pull his fingers from you as he used both hands to stroke your sides, hushing you softly.

- “s’okay baby… m’not gonna hurt ya. Promise.” He grabs one of your hands, pressing kisses to your fingers before pressing it to his chest, encouraging you to slide it down at your own pace until you reach the spot where his human torso meets his snake half.

- You will yourself to bring your eyes to look down to where he guides your hand, your breath catching when you see two painfully hard cocks, both flushed so pink it could almost be red. The heads of both flaring a bit before tapering into a rounded point, the slit at the top of both weeping with precum with every throb.

- You feel your stomach flip with excitement and nerves all the same as he wraps your hand around the lower one, fingers barely touching. You can feel his eyes watching your expression as you slowly process what it is you’re seeing, the arousal pooling heavier into your stomach as you moan softly in anticipation.

- You feel his lips press to your cheek, more whispered promises of being gentle reaching your ears as his hand goes back to work, stretching you dutifully as you sink further into him.

- You don’t know how long he had kept at it, occasionally stopping the motion of his hand to let a thick rope of spit and venom drip down to your hole, but you squirm and whine when he withdraws again. Before you can open your mouth to complain, you feel both heads press against you, and you don’t have much time to even unconsciously clench before he’s slowly pushing in with a loud groan.

- You’re disappointed that you’re missing the way his jaw probably dropped open from the tight, hot pressure of your entrance squeezing around him as he slowly spears you open, but you can’t help the way your head tips back and your eyes clench tightly.

- He braces his arms on his tail next to head as he bottoms out, growling deep in his chest as he grinds deep, bringing his face down to yours as he captures your lips in yet another deep kiss. He grinds his hips slowly, breathing heavily through his nose when he suddenly grabs your hips, groaning loudly when you feel something heavy spread you before it suddenly felt like it dropped into your lower belly.

- He pulled away with sharp hiss, a soft “fuck” leaving his lips before you felt the sensation again, only the stretch was bigger this time. You feel yourself shudder and moan as you realize he was pushing his eggs into you, your face growing hot. His forehead pressed against yours as he struggled to keep his hips from moving, cut off gasps leaving him with every egg until he had no more left to give.

- “Twenty, huh…? Shit, you look so pretty all swollen like this…” you feel his hands caressing your belly now, his hips rocking gently. You work the energy to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him back down as his pace grows a little more rough, hips snapping into yours with a loud clap as he uses his hands to move your hips.

- You lose focus on his words the longer he fucks into your pliant body, growling and moaning low once he starts to get closer and closer to his own orgasm. With a loud cry, you pull his hips into yours with your legs just as your orgasm rips through you, sending him over the edge. Hot, thick spurts of his fertile spunk fills you as he pins your hips to his, eyes rolled back as he growls and grunts and hisses, a powerful shiver running through him as you both slowly come down from your highs.

- Between the sedative properties of his venom and the exhaustion from having your body filled so well, you barely register the feeling of a cool cloth running over your body as you drift into sleep.

- “yeah,” you grin lazily “I’m definitely not going anywhere.”

#Naga Aizawa #🍄 anon #request #sorry it took so long #bnha au #naga au #bnha naga #bnha aizawa #aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa #TW

410 notes · View notes

imastrangeone98 · 3 years

Text

Claim

(A/N: Dante is my sweet baby child who's an absolute dom monster in bed... in my head at least)

WARNING: heat smex (ngl I want redemption from the last one I tried to write; I now deem early morning "non-canon"); DT smex- the demon wants what it wants; breeding kink (dont read if it makes you uncomfortable)

Can be any Dante, but I personally imagine him closer to 1

I'm aware that Halloween is kind of the day that supernatural magic is at its most powerful, so yea, demon instinct would be on overdrive. And since I imagine them to be in their early 20s now, maybe it's when the moon is full that it gets worse

Faith couldn't help but notice that Dante was acting more... clingy, to say the least.

For one thing, he insisted on having her sit on his lap from sunrise to long past sunset, where he kept his face buried in the crook of her neck, sniffing and licking her skin, even leaving the occasional love bite.

Another thing that troubled her was the way he attached himself to her back. From the kitchen, to the ocean, to even the door of the bathroom: no matter what she was doing, he wanted to be a part of it.

But of course, the most obvious thing was his body.

He constantly complained that it was too hot, even though it was approaching winter. His skin felt alarmingly warm, almost feverish, which she actually appreciated as the chill began to creep further into the shop.

And who could forget the smell? His pheromones were abnormally strong, sending the heavy, spicy scent of cinnamon throughout the entire office. It made her knees too weak; her heart pounded way too fast; and her angelic instincts were on overdrive, urging her to comfort her mate.

But tonight, he didn't seem to want anything, having closed himself off in his room and refused to come out.

So now she stood in the kitchen, stirring a small pot of soup, listening to the pouring rain outside, along with the occasional roar of thunder.

She checked the calendar. October 31. Winter and magic was on its way.

Just then, with the boom of the thunder, the lights suddenly flickered out, leaving her stuck in complete darkness.

She sighed. Lightning. Of course.

As she fumbled about to turn off the stove, there was a soft growl. And she turned around to see a pair of glowing red eyes staring back at her.

Oddly enough, she didn't feel terrified, or even remotely scared. In fact, they looked familiar...

"...Dante?" she called out, feeling more certain in her guess. "Is that you?"

If it was him, he didn't respond. Instead, he prowled closer, and she couldn't help but feel like prey under the hungry eyes of a predator.

Like she was about to be devoured.

It wasn't long until he had her pinned to the countertop, face buried in her neck and panting. His bare skin felt sticky with sweat. He reeked of pheromones; it sent her head spinning.

And buzzing through her fingertips was raw, unbridled want.

"What's wrong, love?" she whispered to him, gently running a hand down his back, ignoring the growing dampness in her underwear.

"I can't," he hissed, his voice distorted with energy. "Can't take it anymore."

Her eyes widened. "Can't take what?"

"This." Snatching her wrist, he placed her hand right above something hot and very, very hard.

Her cheeks burned. "Oh."

Sharp fangs nipped at her chin, and those blazing red eyes peered into her own once more. "Be good for me," he crooned, pressing against her even more. She could feel his chest rumble with the all too aroused growl he was releasing. "Be a good girl for me. Don't make me punish you."

Faith swallowed. Of course, she knew there was no way he'd hurt her; neither would his demonic half. But she had no doubt that even with her angelic power, he would find some way to make her pay.

Usually in bed. Especially in bed. And those days were horrendous for her patience.

So she yielded, showing her neck to him for good measure. Instantly, a pleased growl rumbled in his chest, and his nose brushed against her skin before moving away. A strong arm wrapped itself around her knees and hoisted her up, and she felt herself being carried away, with only the soft patter of rain and Dante's surprisingly light cadence of footsteps to give away where they were going.

A door slammed open and shut. The smell of cinnamon and something distinctly male permeated throughout the room. Soft sheets and old clothes formed what seemed to be a nest on the bed. And... was that her hoodie?

"Not enough," Dante growled, laying her in the nest, tugging off her shirt and adding it to the pile. "Not enough of you. Not enough for me."

He fussed with her sweatpants, hissing at the unyielding fabric, before losing his patience and tearing right through it, along with her underwear. She shivered at the cold air, only to feel him press against her legs, mouthing at her exposed core.

"Mine," he purred, licking at her skin with an unusually rough tongue. "All mine."

Lightning flashed outside, and she saw him change in the bright light: scales rippled all over his body, his teeth elongated into fangs, and his now sharpened claws dug into her thighs. His body glowed red, and the plates between his legs shifted, revealing his much larger, more ridged cock, leaking profusely with precum.

He was already tough to fit as a human. This was impossible.

With nothing more than a growl to warn her, he grasped her hips, lined himself up with her core, and pressed right in.

Faith was getting ready to flinch, given the complete lack of preparation. But the pain was minimal, almost nonexistent- she would wonder why if she wasn't trying to bury her face in the pillows. A wet heat spread throughout her body, sending tingles from her stomach to the tips of her toes, only encouraging her to spread her legs wider.

A pleasured purr rumbled in his chest; his eyes glowed a fierce red, burning brighter once his hips pressed flush against hers.

She felt so full. She felt so needy.

"D- Dante..." she whimpered.

In an instant, he leaned down and licked her cheek- his demonic way of showing affection. His first few thrusts were slow, gentle, just barely slipping out of her increasingly wet entrance before pushing back in.

"Mate," he cooed as he nuzzled her.

"Mate," she repeated, pressing a loving kiss to his neck.

His body glowed with red light. His clawed hands shook as he kept her thighs steady.

She reached for his wrist, fingers stroking the leathery skin that pulsed with crimson. The raging inferno of lust that burned underneath was barely tempered by the human inside him, urging himself to keep it together, don't hurt her, don't you fucking dare hurt her-

"It's okay," Faith whispered with a reassuring smile. "You won't hurt me."

He let out a half-hearted hiss, as if he was warning her.

"I trust you." She kissed the corner of his mouth. "Take your fill of me."

His eyes narrowed, and he slammed into her, rapidly picking up the pace. The wet squelches of his hips meeting hers sounded even more lewd when he threw her legs over his shoulders and pressed down against her, forcing his cock deeper inside her body.

"Gonna breed," he snarled into her ear. "Get you fat and swollen with my pups. Gonna stuff you full."

She moaned, just barely able to hear him through the hot waves of her release sweeping over her.

"Yeah? You like that? You like being my personal cumdump? My own little breeding hole?" Grabbing her, he hoisted her up into his lap, forcing a scream out of her throat as he impaled her on his thick cock. "Then you're mine. Forever. No one else can have you."

"Y- yours," she gasped, another orgasm ripping through her. The spots from the first one still haven't disappeared.

"That's right. Mine." He bared his fangs in a demonic smile. "Gonna mark you. Pump you so full of my cum, you'll leak for days. Have you squeeze out my pups out of that tight cunt, year after year." His teeth grazed her neck, tongue licking hot stripes down her skin.

She lost track after that. All she could do was take the raw pleasure he gave her, babble something about bearing his pups, making him a daddy, I'll give you anything, just please gimme more, more, more!

And he did. His thrusts were unyielding. The hot ropes of cum that filled her were never-ending.

She didn't even realize he had changed back into human form until her face was pressed against the soft pillows, the leathery scales of his palms on her hips now calloused skin, the press of his mouth against her shoulder soft lips instead of fangs.

She whimpered, too lust-drunk to say anything.

"Just one more," Dante rasped, kissing her cheek. "Cum for me, angel. One more."

His fingers brushed against her overstimulated clit, and she wailed, feeling the exhausting rush of her upteenth orgasm. Hopefully her last for the night.

The half-demon collapsed on top of her, panting and shivering. His cock twitched inside her, surrendering its last spurts of seed to her womb. He purred, leaning forward just slightly to nuzzle her neck, scenting her.

He mumbled something against her skin, but she couldn't hear it.

She slept.

[...]

"Angel~"

Faith squinted, and blinked drowsily. Buttery sunlight filtered through the blinds, but an equally drowsy Dante popped into her view.

"Hey," he croaked, giving her a sleepy grin and rubbing her nose with his own. "Sleep okay?"

She smiled, and gave him a deep kiss. "Uh huh."

The smell of cinnamon was much weaker than yesterday. "Are you feeling better?" she asked, just to be sure.

"Yeah. Kinda hungry, though." Leaping out of bed, he slid on his pants and scooped up his yawning mate, sauntering downstairs to the kitchen. "I'll make waffles. How's that sound?"

"You're just saying that because it's the only thing you can cook."

"That's not true!"

As they debated, she was distracted from the way he fondly, almost knowingly, rubbed her stomach.

------------------------------------------------------

A/N: I'm much more proud of this one than early morning, although to be fair, it was one of my very first smuts and I had no idea what I was doing

#devil may cry #dmc dante #dmc oc #dante x reader #dante x oc

126 notes · View notes

cupidcreates · 3 years

Note

for the ask prompts! since this is a deku supremacy blog, lemme get #13, 19, 23, 48, and as a freebee: what’s our resident dekutie’s dirtiest secret? -😌✨

Hell yeah sparkles Deku supremacy 100% also I hope you don’t mind but I’m gonna add 22 and 26 onto here because I wanna talk about Izuku’s 🍆 and kinks I just love him so much 😭❤️

(Once again all characters are depicted as 18+)

13. If they could swap quirks with someone who would it be?

I think before Izuku had OFA he’d probably take any quirk if it had been offered to him; but now that he’s got All Might’s quirk he’s very attached to it. That being said, if he had the chance to switch quirks I’d say he’d either choose Tokoyami or Bakugou.

For Tokoyami we already know Izuku think’s he’s pretty cool; I think he digs the dark aesthetic Tokoyami has and wouldn’t mind taking Dark Shadow. It’s such a unique quirk that Izuku would absolutely use having it as a learning experience.

For Bakugou Izuku has a lot of feelings regarding their past, though they have definitely reconciled as adults he still has lingering guilt about being All Might’s chosen successor; even though he really has nothing to feel guilty about. He knows Bakugou admired All Might just as much as he did and he knows Bakugou still feels like he was the one to ultimately end All Might’s career. If he could give Bakugou OFA he definitely would (nevermind that he has before) Plus having Bakugou’s quirk wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing, he is and has always been Dynamight’s biggest fan after all.

19. What are their biggest turn ons?

Izuku has a FUCKTON of kinks and as a result is very easily turned on, just lean into one of them and he’ll be hard in less than a minute. (His stamina and recovery time are off the charts though so please don’t try anything if you’ve got places to be soon, you WILL miss them)

Nothing gets Izuku harder than praise, but it has to come from very specific people and in very specific ways. A random civilian telling him they think he’s cool won’t do it but if his SO were to tell him the outline of his dick through his costume was turning them on you bet that’d get him there.

Izuku also loves seeing his SO in anything revealing. If you’ve got any type of cute lingerie don’t be afraid to pull it out. It drives him wild to see your body hidden by laces and frills and silk. Just don’t get anything All Might themed, contrary to popular belief Izuku does not want to be thinking about his father figure stand in when he’s about to fuck you into the mattress. Shocker I know.

22. What are their kinks?

Buckle the fuckle UP because I have got a LIST for y’all

Praise kink: As I said Izuku loves to be praised, it helps dispel some of his lingering insecurity and self doubt. It means the most when it comes from his SO, but he especially enjoys hearing praises about his body. Start in on how good pleasure looks on his face while fucking and he might just bust inside you right there and then. Speaking of...

Breeding: If you’ve got a vagina I suggest you be on some STRONG birth control because Izuku can’t go a day without pumping a load into you. This is his biggest kink, he absolutely adores the feeling of releasing inside of you, coating your insides with cum and feeling you clench around him.

And he’s not one to stop at a single round, oh no you’ll be there for hours getting load after load shot directly into you. Izuku is a responsible person of course, it’s not that he wants kids right away; but mimicking the act of it, or even just hearing you say you want him to finish inside you drives him absolutely wild.

He just can’t help himself, he really can’t. He’d never ever pressure his SO into doing something they didn’t want to, so if you ask him to wear a condom he absolutely will with no hesitation. But if you’re into this kink be prepared to have it exercised frequently and often without warning. Izuku is a horny mother fucker with an intense sex drive, you won’t go a day without being bent over some piece of furniture.

Somnophilia: Izuku’s days are lengthy and difficult, he gets very few days off and very few breaks while on the clock. The number one pro hero does have to be constantly on top of things to maintain status after all, so in comes the issue of spare time and energy.

Make no mistake; Izuku has enough stamina to work a whole twelve hour day patrolling and dealing with various disasters/villains and come home to fuck you for another three hours before finally succumbing to exhaustion, the issue is that you’re frequently already asleep by the time he gets home.

So Izuku breached the idea of Somnophilia with you, just as something you could potentially be interested in (definitely not taking this opportunity to exercise a kink he’s been keeping in secret for years now, no honey certainly not). Basically if you’re already asleep by the time he gets home you’ve got an agreement that he can use your body to get himself off should he desire it, and you’re welcome to do the same should you wake up in the middle of the night.

He’s ever so careful when he fucks you like this, choosing to play with you or eat you out so you’re wet enough for him. He’ll penetrate you slowly, so as not to wake you up, and grind himself into you for hours, using your body to edge himself before finally releasing inside of you. You’ll often wake up with him still resting inside of you, hard and leaking inside you once again. Which segways nicely into...

Cock Warming: On particularly lazy days, the ever so elusive day off, Izuku likes to spend the day snuggled up close to you watching movies on the couch. And hey, if his cock is buried deep within you while you’re doing that then it’s only an improvement. As I said Izuku has excellent stamina and a fast recovery time but he’s also got enough willpower to hold himself back while you squirm and whimper on top of him. In fact he loves watching you wiggle in his lap, trying to get something, anything, by way of pleasure.

Izuku’s so thick he fills you out pretty nicely as well, any sort of movement even if it’s only a slight jostling or him re-adjusting his position will send sparks of pleasure up your spine. If you’re good he’ll grind himself into you, being sure to go excruciatingly slow, but don’t expect to be proper fucked for a long while. He just enjoys watching you come apart on top of him too much to give you what you want immediately.

Edging: While Izuku may enjoy pumping load after load into his SO’s pliant body, he’s also very much into edging. There’s just something about driving his partner to near orgasm only to stop just before they break that turns him on. He loves hearing you whine and squirm and complain about being so close, it only makes the look on your face as he finally lets you come that much better.

Overstimulation: Speaking of coming, don’t think he’s going to let you get off and then be done. No he’s the type to fuck you through your orgasm and directly into another one. He doesn’t particularly care when you say it’s too much, he’ll whisper sweet words in your ear about how well you’re taking him and how much you deserve to come again. He praise you to heaven and back while fucking your oversensitive body into the mattress, keeping your hands pinned above your head so you’ve got no option to just lay back and let him force orgasm after orgasm out of you.

Domination/Submission: Izuku Midoriya is a pure switch and no one can tell me any differently. He enjoys dominating his SO just as much as he enjoys being dominated. He’s not sure what turns him on more; forcing your face into the mattress as he fucks you from behind or having you force his head between your legs to use his mouth for your pleasure. Either way you can be sure he’s having a great time.

Face Sitting/Oral: Playing off his favorite body parts (found below) as well as his Dom/Sub kink, Izuku will frequently pull you onto his face and show you just how well he can eat you out. And wow does this man know how to give head, his technique is flawless and often has you coming in under a minute. A kinder man would let you up once you finish but you’ve seen this kink list, you’re not getting away from him until his face is soaked and you’ve come at least five or six times.

Pegging: Izuku’s not all about penetrating his SO, he will very much let them have a go at him should they want to. He’ll let an SO with a cock top him any time they like and he’s got a myriad of dildos for an SO who needs a strap.

He’s a whiny bottom as well, squirming and gasping as he’s being driven into. He cums quick when he’s being penetrated, unable to hold himself back as he’s being fucked with everything you’ve got. Don’t go easy on him, otherwise he’ll flip you over and ride the strap himself. He’s a sight to behold when he does that so maybe do take it easy on him if you want a show.

Mommy Kink: Don’t fight me on this one Izuku Midoriya has a mommy kink and I won’t be convinced otherwise. This one is the one he’s most embarrassed about because he has NO idea where it came from. He just woke up one day and decided it would be SUPER EROTIC to call his SO Mommy.

He dials it back if this SO isn’t into that but if you’re fine with it then just go ahead and make that “Bitch I’m A Mother! No Drama!” tiktok trend yours because he’ll be calling you mommy every other minute he’s fucking you. And as we’ve already established, that is quite frequently.

Primal: Again I won’t fight on this!! Izuku Midoriya is into the predator/prey shit, deadass. This one he stumbled across last while with his SO, just playing a casual game of hide and go seek in the dark of their apartment (as adults do, you know. Listen sometimes you just need something new to do alright stop judging). He found pretty quickly that prowling around in the dark in search of you was incredibly arousing. His ears straining as he listened for any sound that could potentially give your location away, he started thinking of all the things he could do to you once he found you.

You, meanwhile, were of a similar mindset as you hid crumpled up in the corner of your shared closet. Your heart racing as you sat awaiting him, thinking about him tackling you to the ground and fucking you right there in the closet.

Oh and he did eventually find you, crouched in the corner holding your breath as he stalked towards you on all fours. You made a break for it but he was much too quick for you and you quickly found your face pressed into the carpet, Izuku’s hot breath on your face as he ground his hard cock into your ass already pulling your clothes off you.

“Caught you kitten”

Voyeurism: Izuku loves to learn and the best way to do so is to observe and take notes. He’s been doing this for so long that it just becomes second nature for him to record something new he sees, muttering all the while. So it comes as no surprise that he enjoys watching his SO, you don’t even have to be doing anything interesting! You could just be putting the dishes away and he’ll be somewhere in the background, just observing.

Naturally this carries over into his sex life, Izuku is a voyeur and arguably has been for the longest time. He could spend hours just watching his SO touch themselves, mentally recording their movements and what get the greatest reaction from them. He’s got your masturbation habits down to a T at this point and can mentally go through your routine movement by movement.

Some days he won’t even touch you, instead choosing to let you get yourself off in various ways while he watches from afar. He especially loves when he’s shrouded in darkness and you’re illuminated by a soft light. It gives him a rush to think about seeing without being seen.

Clothed Sex: Izuku doesn’t like quick sex, I think at this point that’s evident. He very much prefers to take his time fucking you into oblivion, but if he does have to get it done quickly he enjoys clothed sex. Something about being completely dressed while fucking you in your work outfit/hero costume really sets him off. Bonus points if he comes inside you and you don’t have time to get cleaned up. He finds the idea of you going about your day with his cum leaking out of you incredibly arousing.

23. Do they have a favorite body part on their SO?

Izuku loves everything about his SO but he has a particular fondness for three things: Tits, ass, and thighs regardless of shape or size. (And yes my male/masculine enby readers, titties does include pecks)

Did I mention he can’t keep his hands to himself? Because he can’t. He’s particularly handsy and loves to grope his SO from behind, mostly because this gives his hands access to their chest and his cock the ability to grind against their ass and thighs.

26. 🍆 Headcanons?

It’s always the quiet ones that have the biggest dicks, always. This man is hung sporting a 8.9 inch cock that’s thicker than a soda can. He’s aware of his size and as a result will always air on the side of caution when fucking his SO. The last thing he wants to do is send them to the ER with a bruised pelvis, the media would have a field day with that one. (Number One Pro Hero Deku breaks his partners spine with his massive horse cock! More at eleven!)

He’s not very veiny, having just a few small ones on the sides, but he does have a mass of freckles all over his dick, especially at the base. He’s a bit self conscious about this but honestly it’s adorable and you make a point to frequently tell him so.

He’s got the same thickness throughout so if it’s difficult to get the tip in (which it will be at first, regardless) it’s going to be difficult the whole way through. Keep a decent amount of lube nearby and you can manage it though, and he fucks so frequently that eventually your body will just take the shape of his cock and be ready for him at any time. Which makes life easier for the both of you. He also curves upwards ever so slightly, it’s barely noticeable until he’s inside you.

Izuku has an excellent diet as he’s kept pretty strictly to it for years now, only ever having junk food every now and again and in very small portions. As a result he is incredibly pleasant and almost sweet to taste.

48. Which of the seven deadly sins do they most embody?

It’s not that Izuku is the embodiment of Lust or Envy, it’s more that he doesn’t embody the others in any way, shape, or form. His connection to Lust and Envy isn’t strong enough to be immediately noticeable but oh how it is definitely there.

First off; Lust. Did I say that Izuku can’t keep his hands to himself? I don’t think I made that clear yet, he can’t keep his hands to himself. Make no mistake he’s respectful and would never touch anyone without consent, but when he’s with his SO he can’t just have a simple and sweet cuddle session without groping them.

His envy would have developed at a very early age and even after gaining OFA it wouldn’t have gone away. He gets incredibly envious of the abilities of others very easily, being very aware that regardless of how much he’s improved everyone with a natural-born quirk would have had more time than him to hone their abilities. It’s why he takes so many notes, he constantly feels like he’s falling behind. The silver lining to this envy is that it pushes him to do better and work even harder on improving himself, though he’ll never stop feeling like he’s at a disatvantage.

50. Freebee: What’s Izuku’s dirtiest secret?

Izuku is a horny bitch and therefore has several dirty secrets he’s taking to his grave. His worse one would probably be the time he got his bullet vibrator stuck inside him and had to go about his day at work with it brushing up against his prostate constantly. Everyone just assumed he was overworked or maybe even sick at the time, but little did they know that every time he ran off to the bathroom he was actually just cleaning the cum from his costume.

It wasn’t all bad though, eventually he did run dry and ended up just shooting blanks for the rest of the day. He didn’t have to run off every time he came to clean himself off but he did get several odd looks when he was unable to hold back his grunts and moans.

Needless to say he gave his costume a thorough washing after that day.

Sorry this took so long! There were a lot of questions with this one and I added a few myself ❤ I love Izuku so much and I wanted to make sure his asks were good ❤ (With the amount of times I covered my face while writing this you’d think I was a virgin)

#answered #ask meme #ask prompt #ask meme 13 #ask meme 19 #ask meme 22 #ask meme 23 #ask meme 26 #ask meme 48 #ask meme 50 #izuku midoriya #mha #bnha #deku

34 notes · View notes

angelbittyabuse · 3 years

Text

A flock of crows, part one

Behind the curtain: Wooops we had a coding glitch! So sorry, here’s the corrected version! There’s no trigger warning for this part, but there will be for the next one! Please don’t get too attached to the characters.

...

« Please don’t give me away! I’ll be a good bitty! Better! » He flails, hits the ground with his feets in his tantrum. His owner raises an eyebrow, his eyes lasting on the being, he seems to doubt... But no.

The pet creature was a cancer since day one. To the never-ending wailing had added hidden orders, reflexions and comments... Critics. On the way he was living, his way of clothing himself, the hour he was waking up on week-ends! He had took that baby blue as a good deed, since one of his friend was moving in where they weren’t allowed. But now? This good deed had been drown by months of hard feelings about this thing, high as two berrys but so irritating. Putting a flyer down in front of the bitty, the baby blue could clearly hear his owner tell…

« I’m bringing you where they will take care of you to your worth. » Blue was forced to take a few step back as the blow of the flyer nearly knocked him out of his feet. He bends to the paper, tries to read.

« Beaux Cieux Breeding ? » Stutters Blue, raising a questionning face to his human.

« You’ll end your days as a stallion. » His owner giggles. « I’m nearly jealous. »

...

The silence clearly didn’t came to the rendez-vous during the whole car ride. The pleading becomes thumping. Blue now yells to be heard, soiling the poor hamster cage he was carried away with tears and other colored fluids.

« HUMAN DON’T DO THAT !! » He bawls. « THIS IS THE WORST DECISION OF YOUR LIFE !! » The said human turns higher the radio volume but the screamings won’t stop anyway. What follows of the speech is the same refrain. ‘Not that you’re used to take good decisions ! / you’re gonna regret me / I’m your bitty and I love you ! / bring me home, I know you love me too !’. When Blue ends up understanding that he won’t have any answers, his words melt into a high-pitching wailing. The crys go on and on until the car stops in front of an adorable little farm, all that picturesque. At twenty minutes from town, the air there is pur. Half-feral cats hang out in the courtyard, rubbing themselves to the human legs as he slaps close his car’s door. This one used to be brand new, once there was a time, before that Blue idiot had this idea that a turquoise color will better fit a vehicule of his ‘magnificence’... And starts to repaint it with a colored pencil. The horrid cracks on his car painting would have finished convincing the human that his choice was for the best, if he had doubted it only a little.

« Welcome ! » A young girl, maybe forteen, comes running. Her full face and her lively eyes bring a smile to the human.

« Thanks! Are your parents here ? » He asks, this barely audible, drown by the bitty cries that came back stronger. The girl raises her shoulders.

« They’re busy. But they told me to take the bitty. You’re the person we had on the phone? » The human uses a small time to bring himself back together.

« Oh. Yes. Here’s Blue. Here... » He hands the cage and the girl takes it with a whole particular caution. The human goes away, missing by a second the glance of malice living in the girl’s eyes.

« So, Blue, we’re a lil grumpy? » She let away, gaining a truce in the cries. Blue raises his huge wet eyesockets to the teen. « Name’s Jessica and, you’ll see, you’ll have such a blast, here ! » Taking no care to the cats swarming to her feets whom were interested in the small rodent, she walks toward a small barn, a little far from the main house. Blue clumsily walks to the front of his cage, his cute lil hands holding the bars.

« You’re my new mommy ? » He ask, a shiver in his voice. Jessica softly laughs.

« Whatever. » She breaths, ignoring the dumb face of the bitty, falling apart to such an answer. Putting the cage to the ground, so she can push with both of her hands a door way too heavy, Blue see agglutinating around him the felides, meowing of hunger as if he was a can of tuna.

« Er... Jessica? » Squeals the scared bitty. But nobody answers him excepted the heavy creaking of the wood door. At last, the door had given up and opens on a dumping ground drown in darkness. Blue doesn’t have any time to prepare himself before his cage is balancing again at the end of the young girl arms. She dumps it in a CLANK that can’t be unheard on something that had metal on it- another cage? Then she rubs her hands.

« You’ll be fine, here, until the chirurgy. » Blue frozes to such speaking. Chirurgy? But wasn’t it...

Why would he needs chirurgy?

« I’m not ill ! » The bitty defends himself. « Chirurgy, it’s for people who’re really ill! » He whines but that does nothing if not amusing the teen. She doesn’t bother answering and goes away, having the same struggle to close the door after her. Just before the outside light dims into a stray of light, Blue has the time to see one of the cat slithers into the barn.

« Hey ! »

Then, the nothingness. Or it was what he belived. But as his eardrums get used to the lack of stimulis, he ends up earing way weaker sounds. The noise of one- no, hundreads of breathings, harshs, terrified, brokens. Mad laughing and wailing melted and- oh, the meowing develishly high-pitched of the cat, prowling through the aisles. The aisles... He eyesockets grows used to the darkness. There’s rows and rows... Is that cages? Blue let away a chocked breath.

« IS THERE SOMETHING HERE? » Yells the baby blue. He stands surprised not to have any answers and insists. « Please ! » The last word, a weak pleading.

« Shut the fuck up. » The blue’s eyesockets grows bigger.

« LANGUAGE !! » He spats, a reflex of when he was at the adoption center. One cage down, the red eyelights of what seems to be an edgy become sharper. He stares the maybe ennemi for a time before understanding what’s in front of his eyes.

« A baby blue. Tch. As if I needed that. » The voice sounds clear. The edgy have several months less than the baby blue.

« A JUNIOR! ALL FOR THE BETTER! MY MAGNIFICENT EXEMPLE WILL- »

« I don’t think that’s the time for that’. » White pupils shining in the cage in front of his calmly answer. Blue hesitates for a moment. A... Sansy ? « Just do what he says, we don’t really have the soul to have a chat. »

« Nonsense ! » Complains the little Blue. « I just arrived and I need answers ! » Useless to say that the tiny creature is deeply insulted. « At what time do we have a snack, here ? » There’s a silence, then the frenetical laughter of the edgy. Blue frowns. Did he... Missed snack time? It was so villain to laugh at him...! « Good, and what are we doing here? » He carrys on, a little less brave. « Oh, it’s for a birthday surprise, it is it? » His excited voice suddenly slips to the idea. « We are the gifts, aren’t we? » To whom will they be gifted? To a child who would play with them all day long? To a sweet human girl who would love cuddles? Or even to a monster, Blue wasn’t difficult! As long as the person would be willing to let them sleep in the bed...

« Fuck... » Laughs the red one. « I tell him ? »

« No ! » Yells the sansy in a panic. « Let him in his world. For now... » It was better to keep the eyesockets closed. It will always be time to stress out to the bone later one... But the edgy didn’t seem to want to hear such an answer. With a cruel smile, he blurted out.

« Eh, dumb-face... Look what’s over yout head! »

« UH ?? » Blue raises his face without thinking, suddenly noticing a glimpse of silver light hanging on the ceiling.

« It’s the ‘chirurgy chain’. » Continues the edgy, a sadistic tone ringing in his voice. « The shiny thingy, it’s a butcher hook~ >> He soft talks, exctatic, despite the whimperings of the sansy, trying his best to make him shut up. Blue’s bones grow paler as he registers the words.

« Ha... Haha? » He answers back. « YOU GOT ME WELL, EDGY, BUT I DID NOT FALL FOR THAT! THERE’S AN END TO ALL BAD JOKES! »

#Bitty whump #Bitty abuse #Bittybones abuse

8 notes · View notes

mychlapci · 3 months

Note

TFA Oppy breeding anon back.

Optimus is forced to go outside because he’s spent too long at the base and Bulk and Ratchet can take care of the bitties. Prowl and Bee drag him off to Dinobot Island because they won’t get disturbed by humans there. Grimlock, Swoop, and Snarl still don’t particularly like any other Cybertronians, but they notice that Optimus smells weird.

They wait until Bee is distracted by something else because of course he is and Prowl has to backtrack to get him. Optimus tries to follow but gets snatched by Swoop in dino form and dragged over to where Grimlock and Snarl are in root mode. Optimus is a bit confused, but knows these three are strong and kind if they want to be and his breeding kink is kicking up again and the dinobots could make for good sires…

Bee and Prowl realize they lost Oppy and find him getting pounded into by the dinobots. All three dinobots clearly taking turns and already had a few rounds and Oppy’s tanks are beginning to overflow with how much transfluid he’s getting. Whoever is not fucking Oppy is either licking/grooming at Oppy’s finials or “purring” near his full tank and chest plate. Prowl tries to approach them but get growled at by Grimlock, so they have to stay back.

Prowl says this might be a problem. Bee is just worried what Ratchet’s gonna say because there’s no way Oppy isn’t sparked after this.

oh come on guys, bringing a fresh carrier to the Dinobot island is a recipe for disaster. They can immediately smell that something about Optimus is different, that his body seems more plump and virile, so terribly attractive… you can't bypass a beast's instincts, after all.

When they finally get their hands on Optimus he can't resist. He's been told to just wait a little longer before he can get sparked again for so long now that he's all pent up from his breeding kink. They're running their hands over his body, spreading his legs, offering potent transfluid. Those are some of the largest spikes he's taken and poor Optimus is drooling and squirting all over himself by the time Prowl and Bee find out where the Dinobots dragged him. the Dinobots are cradling him close, rubbing his stuffed belly and lapping the various fluids covering his frame, pumping him so full he can literally feel the transfluid filling his gestation tank…

By the time the Dinobots are done with him it's dark outside and Bee and Prowl are both just stumped about what they're gonna tell Ratchet, who insisted Optimus takes a longer break since that was his first litter and he might be exhausted. Well, apparently he wasn't exhausted at all.

Optimus is probably very apologetic but deep down, he's extremely happy to be pregnant again.

#valveplug #dubcon #<- because of The Implications #but otherwise he’s having a lot of fun #pregnancy mention

33 notes · View notes

anon-e-miss · 2 years

Text

Ori's Energon - Settled

All but immediately, Prowl chose to forgo armour. It was not entirely a choice; it simply did not fit at all over any part of his frame. In any case, heifer routinely did not wear armour, certainly not when their bellies were full. His was full and growing fuller still. Prowl found it easier to be nude and Punch did not appear troubled by the development when he joined Prowl or Prowl and Jazz in the nursery. All he had done is woven Prowl a beautiful shawl in case he became cool. He was knitting blankets for Prowl’s calves now. Prowl was so intrigued by the process that Punch had taken to teach him. Prowl’s first scarf was wonky but Springer wore it with pride, even though it was not cold. Really, Punch was incredible, just like Jazz was but different still as he took charge of all three of Prowl’s calves so Jazz could tend to him.

His belly, so swollen with eggs, was covered in shiny stretch marks but Jazz did not sneer at them but massaged Prowl’s thinned sentio-metallico with expensive oils to sooth it. Though this had been meant to be a common surrogacy, where Prowl was only a warm incubator for the eggs but due the enormity of the clutch the eggs had rooted in his systems in such a way that they were taking code from him. However many eggs made to the point of laying and hatching, they could have some of his features; some could be heifers or bulls. It did not seem to trouble Jazz at all.

“If every one o’em comes out bull or heifer I would be plenty happy," Jazz assured him as he thrust into Prowl's sopping valve. "Y're so pretty, so sweet, so givin', why would I be upset if any o' these bitties take after ya?"

"Moo oo," Prowl gasped, fondling his own swollen wells as Jazz stood between his legs. "I am just a heifer."

"Just?" Jazz tutted at Prowl and shook his helm. "No just. Y'er the prettiest mech, the most generous I ever met. Y'er a perfect ori. 'M lucky ya to have ya carryin' my eggs. Luckier still that they'll have part o' yer code."

Jazz worshipped his frame. Prowl udders, thighs and afts were covered in stretch marks like his belly and Jazz took care to massage the oil into his delicate sentio-metallico twice a mega-cycle. Ambulon was pleased with his work, for all the great demands the carrying was putting on Prowl's frame, the heifer was in fine form and Prowl preened at the praise. He was a good heifer.

"I was expecting at least half of the eggs to be absorbed by Prowl's forge but every last one is growing splendidly," Ambulon explained. "In fact, I can see now that one of them contains two newsparks."

"Oh wow," Jazz gasped. "This is amazin'. 'M gonna need to higher a whole team o' nannies to help out."

"I've never seen a heifer carry a clutch even half this size without straining," Ambulon said. "Prowl, you are in excellent health and so are all those eggs!"

Ambulon showed Jazz the traditional way of spark checking a heifer and of monitoring their carrying. Prowl mooed as Jazz palpated his forge, arm buried deep in his aft. Not all heifers cared for this but Prowl was naughty and loved aftplay, though he did not get much of it. Despite having no stimulation in his valve, Prowl overloaded with a squealed moo.

"I didn't realized ya liked aftplay," Jazz said as he squeezed Prowl thick aft segments as he took Prowl from behind.

"It is naughty," Prowl said. "Heifers are only supposed to take spike in their valves. They are for breeding."

"Nothin' wrong wit likin' aftplay," Jazz told him. "After I get yer new milk set up, I'll give ya a nice treat."

The new milker included a padded bench for Prowl to kneel on as his teats were tugged by a powerful machine. It would drain him faster and more thoroughly. With fourteen bitties on the way, it was important for Prowl to bring up his already impressive energon supply. Already they froze what Prowl's twins did not drink. Thankfully, Prowl had time yet to build up supply.

Prowl let Jazz strap him into the milker and he mooed blissfully as the suction cups tugged on his teats. Jazz stroked his helm and his doorwings, taking the opportunity to massage Prowl's frame with oil. He shivered with arousal as Jazz kneaded his aft and pulled his segments apart. More oil spilled between Prowl's segments and dribbled over his furled port.

"Can I play wit yer after, Sweetspark?" Jazz asked.

"Please?" Prowl replied. He mooed as Jazz fragged his aft with his digits. It made his heavy belly tight and hot.

"I got a present for ya," Jazz revealed as he continued to work his long digits in and out of Prowl little afthole. "I got ya a toy. While y're hooked up to the milker it's gonna frag yer aft."

"Moo!" Prowl gasped as he looked over his shoulder and caught sight of the fragging machine Jazz had bought for him. He watched Jazz lube up the false spike attached to the long arm and line it up with his port. "Moooo ooo!"

"Feels good, don't it?" Jazz asked as the toy plunged in and out of Prowl's aft. Prowl through his helm and mooed in delight. It was like the autofragger they used at the clinic but without any pretenses of being a medical device.

Prowl held his aft segments apart as he looked at himself in the mirror. His afthole was not so tight a furl. He was lusty at the sight. Maybe he was a naughty heifer for liking having his aft fragged but he was a good heifer. Prowl produced kilolitres of the best quality energon. He was good. When Prowl rode Jazz that dark-cycle taking his sixth load of contributions of the mega-cycle, he cooed and mewled as Jazz played with his aft as Prowl bounced on his lap.

"Can I call ya mine, Darlin' Prowl?" Jazz asked as they rested later, his servo resting on Prowl's bulging belly.

"Yours?" Prowl asked. "You want to be my farmer?"

"No, Sweetlin'," Jazz said. He sat up and kissed Prowl's cheekplate. "I want ya to be my conjunx. The ori o' my bitties. I want to be geni to yer sweet calves."

"But no one bonds to a heifer," Prowl exclaimed. "Your reputation would be ruined."

"Even if it was, I wouldn't care," Jazz said. "Anyways, I got a rep for bein' eccentric 'n outrageous. Pretty sure media would call this me bein' on brand."

"You really want to bond with me?" Prowl asked. "And adopt my calves... you really do?"

"I really do," Jazz promised.

"I will," Prowl said. "My calves will be lucky to call you geni."

#valveplug #maccadams #tf prowl #tf jazz #heifer prowl #surrogate cow prowl #heifer au #mechcow #mechpreg #very unrealistic and you'll like it or hate it and I don't care

48 notes · View notes

ohmyomegasteveandalphabucky2 · 5 years

Note

Oooh hey!!! How about you write the most self indulgent fluffy or angst or smutty fic you’ve ever written? Really treat yourself 👌🏻

((so the gang and i were talking about this one photo of steve and it struck me that he looks so much like a lil sugar baby or escort for rich ceo!bucky. bucky just worships him; takes his baby to expensive galas just because he likes to see him glittering in diamonds and high end brands. and this is how they meet.))

This was the most expensive gift that Bucky had ever received. He’d told Tony over the phone that he didn’t want anything for his birthday. Solitude, he’d asked for. And what had he gotten in return? A birthday bash large enough to knock the power out across half of manhattan. Bucky couldn’t be mad; he knew Stark meant well. But this? This was pushing the envelope to the extreme.

In his private sitting room was a beautiful, blonde omega, laid demurely upon his velvet lounge chair. He smelled like honeysuckle and morning dew, making the whole room turn to sunshine after rain, with curves that would make a woman jealous and skin that glittered in the low lamplight. The omega was wearing nothing but a pair of peach silk panties and a sweet expression, lips bitten pink and pursed in something of a smirk.

James Barnes was rarely a man to ever be struck speechless, but there was something about this boy had his tongue tied and his heart racing. He was co-ceo to one of the largest companies internationally. He gave talks to crowds full of thousands every week. And yet there was something about this boy that kept his feet glued to the floor. He opened his mouth once, twice, to no avail. The only sound he found himself capable of making was a soft rumble of a growl, and that was terribly inappropriate upon first meeting someone.

While Bucky stared, his gift laughed, daintily bringing a hand up to cover his mouth. It wasn’t loud or boisterous, like perhaps it should have been if going on outward appearance alone. His laughter was, instead, melodic and soft, like windchimes.

“Are you going to be my alpha tonight?” asked the blonde, batting his eyelashes coquettishly, when he finally realized that Bucky was not going to speak first.

Another growl threatened to claw its way from Bucky’s throat as the omega spoke. He clenched his hands tightly at his sides to keep from lunging, from claiming.

“That depends,” he answered tersely. Bucky was good at acting much less affected than he truly was. Almost boredly, Bucky began to prowl towards the omega, his heart rate increasing with every step closer he took. He undid his cufflinks, nonchalant and one by one, rolling his sleeves up his arms to reveal one flesh and one metal.

“Depends on what?” the omega quipped, lowering his lids in Bucky’s direction.

The alpha narrowed his eyes in response, tilting his head to one side as he studied the body of the other laid out before him. If he noticed the way the omega deepened the arch in his back or pushed his chest out further under Bucky’s scrutinous gaze, he didn’t mention it.

“What’s your name?” Bucky asked instead, looking into blue eyes carefully.

A sharp intake of breath and then, “Steven,” whispered quietly, like a confession. Big eyes blinked up at him, wide and innocent. “But you can call me anything you like.”

“Steven.” Bucky savored the feeling of the word on his tongue. He turned it over in his mind. “Steve.” The omega shuddered a sigh and Bucky liked the way that tasted even better.

“And what am I to call you?” the omega - Steve - asked.

Bucky bit down on his bottom lip, considering. Again he fixed Steve with a curious look, trying to get a read on him. But there was nothing but charm and controlled sweetness beyond the intoxicating scent belonging to him. “James,” he decided. Steve nodded once; Bucky paused. “Or sir,” he added, derisively willing himself not to blush. “If you want to get into my good graces.”

Steve blinked up at Bucky, slow and hazy, like a fly caught in molasses, smiling like the sun. “Oh?” he whispered. Slowly, Steve reached his hand up to cup the front of Bucky’s dress pants, grin widening at the soft groan the alpha made. “Your graces aren’t the only thing I wanna get into, sir.” He unzipped Bucky’s slacks deftly, hardly even twisting his wrist to do it, as if he’d done it hundreds of times before.

The omega gasped happily when he pulled out Bucky’s half hard cock, already leaking at the tip and pulsing in his hand.

“No briefs?” asked Steve with a cheeky smirk and a glint in his eye. “Someone was hoping to get lucky tonight.” The blonde leaned forward and nuzzled Bucky’s cock, making satisfied noises as he breathed in the unadulterated alpha scent.

“I did, didn’t I?” Bucky shot back, eyebrow raised and clearly unamused. “Wasn’t all for nothing. I’ve got a pretty little thing in my private rooms. I’d consider that pretty lucky.”

“The first compliment of the night? Oh, so he does have a heart somewhere,” laughed Steve.

Bucky laughed right back, rubbing his dick across Steve’s cheek. “You’re just used to alphas giving it up quick.” Bucky touched his finger to Steve’s bottom lip, pulling it downward. “You’re used to battin’ those pretty eyelashes and gettin’ anythin’ you want.” Steve poked his tongue out to touch the skin just beneath the head of Bucky’s cock.

“Uh huh,” he chirped coyly, licking at the tip like it was candy. “Some alphas are already done by now.”

“Oh, baby,” Bucky said with a dark chuckle. “It’s gonna be a while before I’m done with you.”

“Yes, please, sir.”

Steve went to work without another syllable. One swipe of his tongue and Bucky was biting his tongue and seeing stars.

“Holy fuck,” gasped the brunette, jerking his hips forward uncontrollably. Steve winced and gagged and Bucky felt bad, but he also kind of didn’t - not when there were tears leaking out of crystalline blue eyes. He immediately moved back, intending to apologize, but Steve leaned up and pressed large, warm hands to the backs of sturdy thighs, not only keeping Bucky there, but urging him forward again. Bucky swore he was seeing stars.

“Oh,” he moaned shakily, shifting to cradle Steve’s face in one palm as he languidly thrust his hips. The sight of his knot kissing the omega’s plush mouth over and over made his head spin. “Oh my god…”

Steve hummed, doing his best to smile around a mouthful of cock and bobbing his head faster. One swift movement and Bucky had Steve’s nose pressed right up to his navel, his dick completely down Steve’s throat, knot and all. If it weren’t for those firm and steady hands keeping him upright, Bucky’s knees surely would have given out.

Selfishly, Bucky held Steve down until the blonde was choking, tapping the back of Bucky’s thigh desperately before being allowed to pull away with a heaving gasp. The alpha above him exhaled simultaneously, already regretting not being inside the boy’s warmth. He looked down at the coughing, crying omega with stunned admiration. No doubt he was expensive, Bucky could tell. Where the hell had Stark found an omega like this?

“What - what the fffuck was that…?” stuttered Bucky, absolutely unintelligibly. He was looking at Steve, who was looking at him like the cat who got the cream, leaning back on his elbow and licking his lips with a smug smirk on his face.

“You like that, James?”

Bucky gripped Steve by the jaw with his right hand, hard, and Steve’s eyes glazed over with pleasure. “It’s ‘sir’ to you right now,” asserted Bucky with a growl.

“Oh, yessir,” Steve slurred, his eyes hardly even opened now.

Bucky shoved the boy away, none to gently, causing him to whine. Again, Bucky found himself going to apologize, and again Steve surprised him. The omega spread his legs further, throwing his head back desperately, chest heaving. It was then that Bucky noticed little drops of slick dripping from the seat of silk panties. Steve caught Bucky staring at the growing puddle between his legs and that sparse, mischievous glint in his eye returned before he was swirling nimble fingers in his own mess and bringing them to his lips for a taste. Bucky could've choked on air if he was still breathing. Rolling his hips and sucking on his fingers, Steve looked like a wet dream come to life.

“M’so wet, sir,” he mumbled, sounding slightly garbled around the digits in his mouth. Steve closed his eyes and sighed contentedly. “Could just slide right in me.” Bucky’s dick jumped at the invitation.

Fluid like water, Steve slipped off the chase lounge onto hands and knees, prowling towards Bucky like he was the prey. His hips swayed and his back rippled and Bucky’s mouth was dry. When Steve came to a stop right at his feet, Bucky didn’t think he could take much more. And then the boy spoke. Two simple words that flipped the switch inside Bucky’s alpha brain: breed me.

Bucky lifted Steve like he was nothing, didn’t even let the insatiable little thing kiss his cock again - just bent him over the back of the luxe red velvet. He opened his mouth to tell Steve to arch that back, but he had already gone and done it, pushing his perfect ass back onto Bucky’s dick, peering sweetly over his shoulder.

“C’mon, tough guy,” goaded Steve, lips shining and words dripping with honey. “Give it to me.”

The way Bucky fucked him was animalistic to say the least. Not even the most primal alphas had given it to Steve quite the same way. Bucky had shoved into him without so much as a word, nothing more than a grunt. He took Steve fiercely and quietly, the only sounds being his huffs of breath and the sound of skin slapping skin. Steve had tried to keep his own noises to a minimum - James seemed like the type who didn’t appreciate the moans of fake pleasure - and he’d done well until Bucky happened to nail his sweet spot on a particularly rough thrust. The omega yelped, then whined high in his throat as stars exploded behind his eyes and glittered down his legs. Bucky stopped moving his hips and Steve damn near howled, wiggling his ass back.

“Please…” Steve whispered, looking back at Bucky. The alpha’s hair had come loose from the tie holding it in a bun and was now sticking to his forehead in strands; his face was dark, but his eyes were piercing, staring right into Steve, maybe even through him.

That ghostly metal hand reached up, seemingly in slow motion - Steve vaguely registered that he’d have bruises on his hip from that tomorrow - and took hold of silky blonde hair in an unforgiving grip to pull back, deepening the already severe arch in his back. Steve didn’t realize he was whimpering or that Bucky was growling. The alpha shoved his cock back into Steve, deep and hard, pushing another soft whine out of him and plastering their bodies together.

Bucky brought his lips to Steve’s ear, whispering in return, “You can have it any way you want, sweetheart. Long as you let me hear those pretty noises.”

And oh, James truly was exceeding all of Steve’s expectations and surpassing all reservations, grinding his cock deeper into Steve’s warmth. Even if Steve wanted to stay quiet, he wouldn’t be able to, not with his sir’s curved dick hitting his spot with every thrust. He moaned and whimpered like he was in heat, unable to get enough.

“You like that, pretty baby?” Bucky grunted, warm breath making the hairs on the back of Steve’s neck stand up as he snapped his hips harder and harder.

“Oh! Oh...uhn, sir...uh uh uh - ” Steve babbled mindlessly while shoving his hips back to meet Bucky’s strokes. He could feel the alpha’s knot nudging at his rim, hot and heavy, and ready to lock them together. It costs extra to knot Steve, but he couldn’t find it in himself to give a damn; he’d let James breed him, paid or not.

“Oh, baby, baby.” Bucky’s rhythm faltered; his grip tightened. Steve cried out. “Oh fuck, pretty baby, m’gonna come, gonna knot.”

Steve tossed his head back and whined and Bucky thought he really might be the most beautiful omega he’d ever seen. “Please, alpha,” begged Steve, with his brow furrowed and mouth hanging open. “Please come in me, oh god fuck! Knot me, breed me, uhuhh - !”

Bucky growled and bit down on the back of Steve’s neck, finally popping his knot and coming deep and hard into Steve’s willing body. His hips jerked and his teeth ground together as his cock continued to spill. Under him, Steve was writhing, desperately chasing his release, rocking back on Bucky knot.

“Wanna come, sir,” he moaned. Steve peeked over his shoulder at Bucky and there were tears in his eyes. “Please can I?”

Steve asking so sweetly for permission had Bucky seeing stars and coming a second time, groaning with the surprise of his own pleasure. He grabbed two handfuls of Steve’s pert little ass, causing him to yelp in discomfort; Bucky felt Steve tighten around him simultaneously. Smacking Steve’s ass and watching the red handprint bloom with delight, Bucky husked, “Of course you can, sweet thing. Go on and come on sir’s cock.”

“Oh my g-” was all Steve managed before he was coming, legs trembling as he clenched down on Bucky’s length inside him. Bucky grinned a feral smile as he watched Steve’s clear, liquid come drip out of his little cock and into a small, pitiful puddle on the floor. The omega couldn’t stop moaning.

The two of them stayed tied together just long enough for Bucky’s knot to deflate enough to pull out comfortably. Bucky preened, immensely satisfied as he watched his seed seep out of Steve’s hole to gather with the omega’s little mess. He smacked Steve’s ass again, just to watch his pretty pink hole wink at him.

“There’s a pretty boy,” he murmured, petting over Steve’s beautiful, golden skin, entranced and high from a good fuck. “Such a pretty baby.”

Steve nuzzled back into the touch, rumbling happily in his chest. “Thank you, sir. Y’felt so nice in me.”

Bucky moved away from Steve, pushing his panties back into place, disregarding the mess he’d made of the boy. He put his cock away, zipping up his expensive slacks and pushing his hair neatly back into its bun, as though nothing had happened at all. When Steve looked back over his shoulder again, Bucky had moved a few paces away to pour himself a glass of whiskey, drinking it slowly to savor. It was quiet and that worried Steve. He straightened himself up with a wince, arching his back as if chasing the phantom sensation of the alpha’s knot being inside him.

Before Steve could call him for being distant, Bucky spoke, saying, “I want to buy you again.” And oh. Well, that was a start. Steve watched him owlishly, Bucky taking another sip from his glass. “How much is your starting rate?” Steve went to answer, but Bucky waved him off absentmindedly, the metal glinting in the light. “Doesn’t matter, I’ll double it. I want to see you again tomorrow night.”

“I uh…” Steve began uncomfortably. “I have another client tomo-”

“Triple it then,” Bucky countered. He looked over his shoulder, piercing eyes narrowed in Steve’s direction. The silence dragged on for a moment, leaving Steve with an icy cavity forming in his chest. “Cancel him. And I’ll triple it.”

Steve breathed out an unsteady breath. That would be the next three months rent, plus extra for spoiling himself with expensive things, all in one night. Steve didn’t know why he was hesitating; he wanted to see James again.

“Okay,” he said softly.

“Okay,” Bucky agreed. He slammed back the rest of his drink before topping off his ice once more, fixing the omega with a predatory smirk. Steve returned the smile demurely, blushing sweetly, secretly looking forward to spending another night with James Barnes.

-han

ps: send me juicy head canons ab escort!steve and ceo!bucky ;)))

#mod han #omega!steve #alpha!bucky #escort!steve #ceo!bucky #smut #filth tag #knotting/breeding

93 notes · View notes

shirtlesssammy · 5 years

Text

7x13: The Slice Girls

Welcome to our last episode before hiatus is over. We’re knocking out another Buckleming episode. Natasha has some strong words at the end. Buckleming are the worst.

Then:

Oh, yeah, Bobby died, and I never watched that episode again

Now:

A white man™ sits quietly at his computer at home one night. He hears a noise and suddenly he’s getting sliced and diced in good old cold open fashion.

Sam and Dean are on the road. Sam’s driving so Dean can indulge in his “coping through season 7 juice”. He saved Bobby’s flask and we all know ghosts can’t inhabit personal items, *cough* *cough*. Anyway, Dean’s drinking his way through his grief and Sam’s working cases his way through his grief.

They head to the coroner that holds the cold open victim. AND, I’m sorry, but is Dean flirting with the coroner? I rarely rewatch Buckleming so when I find these forgotten moments in the wild I’m taken aback. I thought I knew the full extent of Dean’s little world, but wow, apparently not.

They learn that all the victims are male and there’s weird ritualistic mutilation with the bodies after they are dead. And any DNA from potential suspects doesn’t match anything human.

After the morgue, Sam wants to do more research, and Dean needs to blow off some steam. He decides to go undercover.

Later at a bar (It’s a fancy bar and Dean’s wearing his suit, so not like Dean), he chitchats with a woman (he’s an investment banker who speaks minimal Japanese) and she’s into it so she invites him back to her place.

While Dean works through his coroner frustration, the show intercuts it with another man’s murder. Bravo on the editing.

The next morning, the brothers head to the latest crime scene. Dean asks Sam if he made any headway on the symbol. “We’re gonna need an expert.” “Expert? Our expert’s dead.” OMG. OUCH.

At the crime scene, a friend of the victim’s stops by and Sam asks him some questions. It turns out the victim cheated on his wife a couple nights prior. The neighbor insists the wife wouldn’t have harmed her husband though. Also, whoever has been killing these men were big and strong.

It’s at this moment that Dean realizes that he forgot his flask at Lydia’s (his workout buddy from the prior night). He calls her but she hasn’t seen the flask and she hangs up.

She’s pretty busy at the moment --being really pregnant!

Cut to later at a very dangerous birthing session (way too many candles), Lydia is told that the “pain is an honor” and I’m not a mother but that is SOME bullshit there. Anyway, she has a healthy 3-4 month old baby she’s told to name Emma.

Sam and Dean head to interview the mayor of Sunnydale a professor with some knowledge on the sigil carved on the men. He wants money before he’ll talk. They pull the FBI card and tell him that they’ll put in a good word with the IRS and they want answers by tomorrow.

Dean is missing Bobby after that little exchange so he decides to head to Lydia’s to get his flask.

Lydia’s surprised to see him. Dean really needs that flask. She goes to get it and he follows her inside. He finds a baby (at least 12 months old?) and Lydia admits that it’s hers. Dean Bean goes into the room to see the baby closer (brb, off to read a few hundred domestic Destiel AUs to fill this giant hole my heart.)

Dean’s phone rings and it’s Sam. While he’s on the phone with him, Dean hears the baby and Lydia talk. Uh…

Sam heads to inspect the latest vic alone. He finds out a lot of the victims visited the same bar Dean was at a couple nights ago.

Dean’s staking out Lydia’s place, and watches as the women present at Emma’s birth arrive.

Sam calls and gives him grief for obsessing over the woman. Dean thinks there’s something strange going on and he’ll tell Sam when he figures it out. Sam tells him about the bar but Dean hangs up on him as Lydia’s door opens again. The women all emerge with what appears to be a 8 year old girl. Dean can’t believe what he’s seeing. “I hate when this happens.” Yes, fathering a monster baby is a bitch, Dean. He follows the women into a back alley warehouse.

Dean prowls down an alley, following the car full of women. (Hey, that sentence came out really creepy.) The women disappear into an unmarked building.

Later, Dean briefs Sam on the situation. There was nothing that screamed “baby” to him when he was at Lydia’s earlier. Now, Emma’s an elementary-school-aged kid, to all appearances. He’s suspicious.

Sam thoroughly mocks Dean for feeling like something’s off with Lydia and Emma. The professor calls, interrupting their conversation. He’s got info!

At their mysterious destination, five young (but slightly older) girls are offered pieces of raw (presumably) human meat and big ol’ glasses of milk. Yum! They’re instructed to complete their “blood missions.” Emma is hesitant to eat the meat. (And who can blame her? Blech.)

At the university, the “I’m super busy don’t talk to me” professor has managed to create a whole slideshow for the boys, who settle into one of the middle rows to watch.

The symbol is Greek. It’s a combination that symbolizes Harmonia and Eres, a goddess and god who begat the Amazons. The professor disparages the cartoon version of Amazons: Wonder Woman (them’s fightin’ words!). He describes Amazons as having little use for men. They procreate, then kill the male, cutting off several body parts.

Elsewhere, the head detective holds a hissing phone call with the head Amazon. It turns out that they’re buddies. They know that Dean and Sam are giant fakers and more than that, they suspect they’re hunters.

Back at their current hotel HQ, Dean digs through Bobby’s dusty old books and drinks from his flask. Sam info-dumps more lore. The Amazons were nearly decimated and bargained for Harmonia’s gift to grow their ranks. She made it so they mate, give birth in a few days, and then the child is mature in just a handful more. Dean realizes that he’s now a father, just as Sam grasps that as well. Use birth control, kids!

Back with the Amazons in training, they’re lectured about joining the ranks of the other women and branded with the symbol on their wrist.

Sam summarizes all their victims as rich, successful businessmen - perfect for the Amazons’ gene pool. (REALLY is that the mark of “good” DNA? Really??? Fuck that. There’s so much wrong here I could write a whole damn book on it.) Sam wants to know why Dean got picked. Dean confesses that he pretended to be an investment banker. While Sam judges Dean heavily, papers move mysteriously in the room, exposing a single sheet. Sam pulls out the EMF and it wails at him. Skeptic Sammy points out power lines and a breezy window. Dean thinks it’s Bobby’s ghost.

Sam picks up the exposed paper, written in Greek, and brings it to the professor to read. Meanwhile, Dean stays where he is, holed up in their room when there’s a knock on the door. It’s Emma! She tells him that she needs his help and that she knows she can trust him because he’s her father.

Dean’s on guard, but Emma says that she was trapped with the rest of the Amazons and ordered to do terrible things. There are tears in her eyes as she describes getting branded. Dean quietly lets her in.

Emma asks for Dean’s help to leave town. “I know you don’t want me,” she tells him. (I throw a rotten banana at the screen. How DARE this show.) She begs for his help in finding normalcy.

The professor - who is doing some really LATE office hours - excitedly tells Sam that the Amazon child is meant to kill the father, not the mothers.

As Sam leaves the university, the detective from earlier stops him with a single, very strong hand. He notices her Amazon brand and she calls him by name - she knows she’s a hunter. She hurls Sam down the stairs and pulls out a sword, but Sam whips out his gun and shoots her in the chest before she can kill him. So apparently a bullet works just fine.

Emma continues to make a case for freedom. When she says she’s hungry, Dean heads over to check out the fridge.

Emma pulls out her Amazon blade while Dean’s back is turned and Dean whirls around and confronts her with a gun. Emma argues that it’s her place to kill him. Furthermore, she calls Dean on his hesitation - he won’t kill her. “You haven’t killed anybody yet, Emma. Walk away,” Dean pleads.

Emma says she doesn’t have a choice just before Sam breaks in and points a gun at Emma. She flashes him a shine of smug monster-face before pleading with Dean, one more time, to help her. Sam shoots her and kills her while Dean looks on in horror.

A little while later, Dean and Sam sneak into the old building Dean tracked the Amazons to. It’s abandoned.

They drive away to the next case. Dean acts optimistic: they’ll find those sneaky Amazons and kill ‘em dead next time. Instead of rallying, Sam goes off on Dean, shouting at him about his hesitation in killing Emma. “She was not yours. Not really.”

Dean smiles mirthlessly. She was his child, even if she wasn’t his daughter.

Sam (in a thoroughly OOC way, in my opinion) blows right past this enormous minefield of emotion to tell Dean that he’s off his game. First losing Cas, then Bobby have sent Dean into a tailspin. Sam caps off his inspiring speech with “Don’t get killed.” Thanks, Sam. Good talk.

Natasha: Hi, hello, I HATE this episode. Dean’s lost Cas and Bobby and then this show has the GALL to lob a child at Dean and then CHIDE HIM for not wanting to kill her. Meanwhile, Sam belittles Dean’s hesitation and parallels it to the necessity of his friend Amy’s death. Do you know how dirty and awful I feel every time I think about Amy’s death? DO YOU? And she’d actually killed multiple people by then. We never talk about that one time Dean accidentally fathered a child and Sam killed her mid-conversation, and I can only assume this remains a deep and terrible scar on their souls. I’d forgotten the “breeding” detail but that paired with casting choices make this episode a big pile of YUCK for me.

______________________________

Quotazons:

“Didn’t match anything human” usually seals the deal for me

Nice decor. Very early slaughterhouse

It's a flask, not the holy grail

______________________________

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #spn rewatch #spn 7x13 #the slice girls #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural season 7

31 notes · View notes

flatlineforest · 4 years

Text

Sakura - chapter 1. [Shimadacest ABO]

This was one of the first fics I wrote for the ship. It started off as a one shot and grew in chapters as a result of requests.

Warnings: A/B/O, Omega Hanzo, Alpha Genji, heat fic, manipulation, mildly dubious consent, sibling incest. In later chapters: Father/ child incest, threesome, somnophilia ish.

Wordcount, chapter 1 - 1,659

Read all chapters on AO3 here. Originally posted on: 12/05/2017.

Genji wakes up unusually early one summer morning to the overwhelming scent of sakura blossoms. It is a curious smell, sweet and floral but undeniably strong. It seems to permeate the air of his bedroom, and perhaps even is seeping through the walls. It doesn’t make a lick of sense; the blossoms only occur in the spring and even if there was a particularly late tree it shouldn’t smell so strongly all this distance from the courtyard.

He sniffs at it lazily, normally reluctant to get out of bed early after being out all night but today he is willing to make an exception in order to feed his curiosity. The smell pulls a sense of urgency from him - he isn’t quite sure why but he is certain that finding the source can’t wait. He pulls on a pair of sweatpants and pads out of his bedroom to begin his hunt.

The smell is so strong, it seems to even draw the attention of the beta housemaids who flit about the private quarters of the Shimada estate. They murmur about it and sniff as discreetly as they can but they do not currently hold his interest.

As he approaches the eastern wing of the quarters, the scent takes on a new spiciness - a punch to it that runs down from his nose to his dick as he prowls the halls. He follows that spiciness as his dick chubs up, and wonders if perhaps one of the servants had gone into heat while they were cleaning. It seemed like a logical explanation - and perhaps Genji could be so kind as to offer his services should he come across some hapless omega in need.

…

The last thing Genji expects is to find the epicenter of that scent at the entrance of his big brother’s room.

It didn’t make any sense. He had registered the scent as omega heat scent but it wasn’t supposed to be coming from his brother’s room. His older brother wasn’t an omega - he hadn’t even presented but Shimada men had presented as alphas for as far back as ten generations!

Maybe Hanzo had come across an omega in heat and brought her back to his room? Maybe he was going to help her - or! Or keep her all to himself since his brother did have a thing for cherry blossoms. Genji bared his teeth at the thought- his instincts offended at the thought of his brother keeping such an amazing smelling omega away from him.

He burst open the door, growling loudly as he looked around for the omega within his brother’s bedroom.

Laying in the center of the bed, writhing with widespread legs covered in slick was none other than Hanzo himself. The man seemed to be mostly out of it, one hand fisted in the sheets while the other was shoving two fingers into his cute, pink, virgin hole.

Genji’s mouth was watering. He couldn’t tear his eyes from where Hanzo was desperately fingering himself, as his dick fully chubbed up in his pants. “Anija,” he breathes out, his body on autopilot as he approaches the bed. He is kneeling down on it soon, bringing him so tantalizingly close to Hanzo’s gorgeous, sweet smelling hole. He notes how his brother’s legs are completely covered in that tantalizing slick.

He can’t help it - he starts lapping at the slick on Hanzo’s thighs, eyes on that hole as Hanzo thrusts his fingers in faster - seemingly frantic as this heat eats at him. Hanzo’s slick tastes like ambrosia, and he cannot stop. He cleans the slick from Hanzo’s thighs completely, making his way closer to Hanzo’s ass with each passing lick. Soon, he’s panting and drooling, kneeling between Hanzo’s thighs as his breath hits Hanzo’s sensitive, delicate hole.

“Genji,” Hanzo rasps out above him - and Genji’s cock jerks. He sounds as if he’s moaned himself hoarse and Genji wonders when exactly did his brother’s heat start? And what as his brother going to say- ask him to stop? Genji couldn’t even think of stopping - of not being able to taste that wonderful slick directly from the source, or not being able to give his brother the sweet relief he needs.

“Genji, please,” Hanzo whines and god, if it weren’t for all the pheromones in Genji’s system telling him he has to breed his brother, he probably would have came in his pants. He reaches out, pulling on Hanzo’s hand and assisting the other in easing out his slick covered fingers.

“I’ve got you, anija,” Genji breathed out, and pressed forward those last couple of inches and pressed an open mouthed kiss against Hanzo’s asshole. He moans at the taste, fresh slick infinitely better than the older liquid coating Hanzo’s thighs. He seems to dive into Hanzo’s ass, his mind short-circuiting as he tastes his older brother properly.

Hanzo’s hand is in his hair, pulling on the green locks as he is overwhelmed with the sudden pleasure. His heat had obviously been eating at him for hours - and there had been no chance for relief until his wonderful, amazing, baby brother had come finally come over to assist him. He could only think linearly - didn’t even think of any of the moral or physical consequences of eaten out by his baby brother and instead focused on the feeling of one of Genji’s long, pianist fingers pressing into him. He cried out and tightened his grip, thighs clamping around his brother’s head.

“Shh, anija, I am going to take care of you,” Genji sighed. He peaked up at Hanzo, the other barely catching a glimpse of his dilated eyes before the other was diving head first once more and doubling his efforts.

----

Genji could have spent hours eating his older brother out. The sweet and spicy taste of Hanzo’s slick was nothing less than addictive and Genji wished he could bottle it to drink later. However, Hanzo’s heat was getting unbearable and he demanded that Genji do something about it.

As if Genji wouldn’t willingly stick his dick in that warm, wet place he had been eating out for no less than twenty minutes. He doesn’t even bother to push his sweatpants all the way off, tucking the waistband behind his balls and taking his dick in hand. He rubs his dick across Hanzo’s hole and along his crack, lubing his cock in a combination of his own spit and Hanzo’s slick. He pressed the head right against his twitching hole, looking down at Hanzo’s blissed out face and his cute, omegan cock. “I’m gonna breed you up, Hanzo,” he breathed out. “I’m gonna knot you and give you lots of cream for your needy little hole. Aren’t you excited, anija?”

Hanzo moaned beneath him, hands reaching up to grasp Genji’s shoulders and pull him down face level. “Genji, I have been in heat at least four hours...If you do not fuck me, I might just have to kill you.” The statement is supposed to sound like a threat, but it really only draws a quiet ‘awwh’ from Genji.

He did take pity on his older brother, pressing his hips forward steadily and slowly until the tip of his cock popped in. He let out a moan of his own, feeling his brother’s hole clench tight and wet around his just the tip of his dick. “God, look at you. A perfect little omega whore already,” Genji groaned. He wasn’t able to hold back, starting to fuck the rest of his cock forward into that welcoming hole.

Normally, when he had an omega beneath him, he really went all out to be good to them but god, just this once he wanted to be selfish. His hips humped forward, fucking in and out just a couple of inches.

“Gonna breed you up, anija,” he grunted, leaning over Hanzo to sniff at his scent glands as he fucked. “Nobody can touch you, you’ll be all mine to have all of our little Shimada pups,” he added, licking at those sensitive scent glands and relishing in the wash of pheromones through him. He wasn’t brave - or rude - enough to bite down on them without Hanzo’s true consent but fuck, if it wasn’t tempting.

Hanzo’s cheeks were bright red - the way Genji had only ever seen when Hanzo was half a bottle of sake deep- as his cock jerked between them, covering them in a few, thin ropes of cum.

“Good boy,” Genji breathed out. He gathered Hanzo’s cum on his fingers and popped one into his mouth. He fucked his hips forward at the taste, the head of his dick pressing in as deep as he could manage as his own orgasm washed over him. His knot swelled rapidly, locking him inside of that wonderful hole.

“You feel that Hanzo? You better keep my cum in you even after the knot goes down. You want it don’t you? You want to have my pups, right, anija?” Genji asked, all the more excited as his cum started to paint Hanzo’s insides. If he had a tail, it would be wagging furiously with his excitement.

Hanzo looked up at him, mouth ajar as he panted. He seemed content - a cat who got the cream as Genji’s knot left him warm and full.

Genji had never seen him so happy.

---

It was not until later in the day that Lord Shimada returned to the estate. He was met at the front gate by an advisor.

“Sir, your eldest son presented as an omega. He is in heat,” the man reported, eyes downcast as he waited for the Lord’s reaction.

“Ah...Does he have any company to assist him through this? I’d hate for my son to have to suffer through this alone…”

“About that, sir...Genji has been in his room all day. He will not let anyone enter.”

#shimadacest #old fic #a/b/o #dubious consent #forest writes

1 note · View note

vexy-sins · 5 years

Text

Kinktober 2018: BONUS #2 (BloodLust Breeding)

Pairing: HT!Sans (redtomatofan version) x UL!Sans (BloodLust)

Featured Kinks: Mild Marking, Mild Body Worship, Breeding

Additional Warnings: Exhibitionism, Gaping, Creampie, Mild Cum Inflation

This place has potential, thought the skeleton monster with purple heart-shaped eyelights. Monsters in his universe simply called him Lust, a moniker earned through his inexorable charms and ability to seduce literally anyone. Legend had it that he had once seduced a moss-covered rock though the rock could not confirm or deny it.

Lust strolled casually through the barren Snowdin Forest, hands tucked into the pockets of his purple, blue-fur-lined vest. This definitely appeared to be the kind of universe where monsters fought and struggled just to survive, the kind of place that would yield strong breeding stock… if only he could find any monsters living here. Lust’s sky blue boots crunched the snow in the absolute silence as he wandered further into the forest of dead and dying trees. He never even noticed the glowing red eyes tracking him from the shadows.

A stocky skeleton monster with a jagged hole in his skull watched the newcomer with grim concern. The brightly colored clothing on the other skeleton stood out like a beacon in the harsh white snow and charred black background of trees. This flamboyant skeleton didn’t belong in a dying world. Not that it mattered- the ravenous monsters of the Horror-verse would find him soon enough and mar his pristine bones as they tore him apart for any iota of sustenance they could glean.

The injured skeleton stepped forward with a sigh. He couldn’t let the carefree skeleton be killed just for wandering into the wrong universe. Sugar would expect better of him, and he never let his brother down if he could help it.

Sensing eyes on him, Lust whirled just in time to see a broad-framed skeleton monster with a gaping head wound reaching for him. He leapt backwards, startled by the skeleton’s appearance and stealthy approach.

“heh, don’tcha know how t’greet a new friend?” the skeleton rumbled in a deep voice that sent shivers up Lust’s spine. Lust’s heart-shaped eyelights roved over the other skeleton’s body, assessing him for breeding potential. He could almost smell the virility pouring off of this intimidating monster. He wondered if a quick blowjob counted as an appropriate “greeting.”

“i’m Lust, but you can call me yours,” Lust offered, ignoring the other skeleton’s outstretched hand in favor of stepping in close and pressing himself against the slightly shorter but much broader skeleton. The skeleton with the skull injury sidled away, making Lust pout, but he kind of enjoyed a monster that played hard to get. The chase sweetened the conquest.

“name’s Blood, and you seem to be lost, pal. this universe ain’t safe for visitors,” warned Blood. “ya don’t look like ya’ve seen what a lifetime of starvation n’ violence does to monsters. better leave b’fore someone less friendly finds ya.”

“such savagery,” exclaimed Lust, though he sounded more aroused than shocked or frightened, “but i came here because my universe has its own problems. monsters are dying out, and we can’t reproduce.”

“well y’ain’t gonna find any babies ‘round here.”

“i’m not looking for babies. i’m looking for strong monsters that are capable of breeding. monsters like you. i think we could help each other, Blood.” Lust slunk close to the other skeleton yet again, brushing their ribcages together and giving Blood a half-lidded stare of seduction. Blood seemed skeptical, so Lust whispered his idea straight into the other skeleton’s ear canal:

“all the food you can dream of can be yours, and all you have to do to earn it is fuck. We can give it a test run right here and now if you’d like.” Lust groped the front of Blood’s unwashed basketball shorts, and sure enough, he found the other skeleton’s magic tingling in his pelvis, ready to form into ecto-flesh at any moment.

“i got a brother,” Blood said reluctantly. He could never accept such a gracious offer without bringing Sugar along to share in the spoils. If they needed a breeder, he’d do it. He’d do anything to feed himself and Sugar.

“he’d come with us, obviously. every Sans needs his Papyrus!” Lust practically salivated on himself. His prize was so close he could almost taste it, and oh how he wanted to taste it.

“not for breedin’ though-” Blood quickly corrected, but Lust waved his words aside with a sultry smile.

“of course not. only willing monsters become breeders. besides, it’s really you i’m after. those strong bones, crisscrossed with scars yet still graceful in their curvature. you’re a magnificent creature, Blood, and i want you to be mine.”

Lust’s eagerness and overt sexuality fanned a flame in Blood’s core that he hadn’t even known was still there. It nearly overwhelmed his constant gnawing hunger… but not quite. He agreed to collect his brother and travel back to Lust’s universe with him. A hot meal and a hot pussy sounded like a dream come true, and Blood wasn’t willing to let this opportunity slip away while he weighed the abundant pros and nonexistent cons.

Lust told Blood that their arrangement would be discussed later, after he settled in, so Blood and his brother, Sugar, spent their first few weeks in Lust’s universe eating, resting, and recuperating their magic. Once Blood finally got used to having his fill of food, however, a new appetite awakened in him. The ambient sexual nature of the Lust-verse saturated the air, and Blood breathed it in eagerly. Soon, he found himself seeking out Lust’s company.

“Blood!” Lust greeted him, “are you enjoying yourself?”

“ya promised food in exchange for fuckin’. ya held up yer end of the bargain, so i guess it’s time to get down ta business,” Blood’s bright red eyelights raked Lust’s purple ecto-flesh like a pair of greedy, wandering hands.

“so eager,” sighed Lust, fanning himself though it did nothing to tame his excitement. “i hope you don’t mind an audience though. the other monsters here are anxious to see you… perform.”

“let ‘em watch.” Blood’s voice came out husky, and Lust knew he’d chosen a winner. He gave Blood instructions to meet him backstage at Grillby’s Club. The fire elemental always had live entertainment in his establishment, but tonight the entire future of their universe would hang in the balance as monsters watched their own beloved Lust fuck a potentially fertile monster from another universe.

Blood felt the weight of their expectant eyes on him the moment he stepped onto the platform, wearing only his now-clean shorts. Muscles rippled along his deep red ecto-body, magic he couldn’t have kept summoned like this back when he couldn’t remember what an actual meal tasted like. All of his thoughts promptly melted into an incoherent puddle when Lust took the stage alongside him.

Lust wore nothing except a flimsy black silk robe that clung in all of the right places on his toned body. He moved with feline grace, circling Blood before closing the distance between them to slide his hands down Blood’s chest and abs. Lust moaned as his phalanges explored the hard muscles.

“stunning,” he purred so that only Blood could hear, prowling around to stare at the view from the back. Lust ran his hands over Blood’s back, following the curve of his spine down to his ass, which he grabbed and squeezed with both hands. “lovely,” he whispered, almost to himself.

When Lust finished his appraisal of Blood, he stood in front of him and slowly let the fabric of his robe slip off of his shoulders. Blood’s hands assisted it in falling away completely until it drifted gracefully to the floor. Blood leaned in and captured Lust’s mouth in a rough kiss; Lust braced himself against Blood’s ample pecs and gently pushed him away. He would be setting the pace this evening.

Lust’s kissed and licked his way along Blood’s jawline until his mouth and tongue found the stocky skeleton’s cervical vertebrae. Lust nipped and teased at the bones of Blood’s neck, kissing the base of his throat between his collarbones then sucking gently on one of the clavicles. Blood moaned, content to let Lust have his way for now. Lust nipped and sucked at Blood’s neck and collarbones until dark marks appeared, a sign that Blood had been claimed.

Chuckling at his handiwork, Lust continued to kiss his way down Blood’s body, occasionally giving a nip or gentle suckle to the dark crimson ecto-flesh, leaving a trail of hickeys in his wake as he made his way down to the waistband of Blood’s pants. Breathing heavily in anticipation of the main event, Lust slipped his phalanges underneath the waistband and slowly, languorously tugged the shorts down, baring Blood’s pelvis to the crowd.

Lust blinked in surprise as Blood’s thick erection bobbed free of the basketball shorts and came to rest against his cheekbone, spilling sticky beads of viscous precum onto Lust’s face. A indistinguishable murmur swept through the crowd, but Lust didn’t miss a beat. Turning his head, he caught the tip of Blood’s cock with his tongue, sweeping the rest of the precum into his mouth before tilting his face upwards to address Blood.

“i think there’s been a misunderstanding,” said Lust, standing up and facing Blood. “you’re not here to breed me. i’m going to breed you.” Blood’s eyes dropped to Lust’s pelvis where the other skeleton’s twitching cock stood at enthusiastic attention.

Blood had assumed that Lust had summoned a pussy, and he’d been too mesmerized by Lust’s provocative movements and sensuous facial expressions to check. Still, he swore he’d do anything to keep Sugar here where they could be safe and well-fed, and he stood by that vow. Dismissing his cock, Blood focused on re-forming his magic into a plump, slick pussy that looked good enough to eat. Lust apparently agreed because he lowered himself again, licking his mouth, heart-shaped eyelights locked on Blood’s decadent, glistening folds.

Lust couldn’t wait to fill Blood up with his cum again and again, as often as Blood could safely handle, as often as it took until a soulling swelled that sexy blood-red abdomen.

Lust held Blood aloft with his hands under the broad skeleton’s thick thighs which were bruised and tender from the slamming of Lust’s insistent hips. Using two of his phalanges, Lust spread the other skeleton’s pussy lips, putting his gaping cunt on display for the cheering crowd. Purple cum poured out of Blood’s pussy, dripping in thick globs onto the stage. Blood’s stomach swelled with the volume of the cum still inside of him, but Lust made a tsk-ing sound.

“oh no,” Lust cried in mock concern, “it just keeps flowing back out! i guess we’ll have to keep going then!”

The throbbing shaft filled Blood’s raw, aching pussy again. The crowd cheered louder. Blood kept telling himself that he was doing this for himself and for Sugar, that it was all worth it, that eventually Lust’s stamina would run out and he would empty himself at last.

It took hours.

And it was only their first session.

INDEX | READ ON AO3

#vex does kinktober #undertale kinktober #undertale lemon #horrortale lemon #underlust lemon #bloodlust ship

83 notes · View notes