There aren't deities or characters I won't write about, so here is a list of the ones I have already written devotional smut for:
Lucifer
Belial
Asmodeus
Mars/Ares
Beelzebub/Ba'al/Ba'al ze bub
Satan
Shiva
Bhairava
Hermes
Loki
Sisyphus
Azazel
Nyarlathotep
I have written for most of these spirits multiple times, cause people do be enjoying my smut. I also will write poly scenes, hmu for details.
Concepts I have written (not even CLOSE to a full list):
Gentle field of flowers hair braiding
Loving Cannabalism
Possessive pregnancy sex
brreding, breeding, and guess what... more breeding.
Furry Foxes up to No Good.
Wolf/Rabbit
Engagement party closet sex
Joyful intentional bratting
P*sskink
Daddy/little
Master/Pet
Grumpy/Sunshine on a roadtrip to hell
A really scary monster fucker chase scene I called "A refreshing jog"
Being a Cuck through duel possession (You're not allowed in on it, but it's your body)
Forcemasc period sex
Gender bent shapeshifting with rolling pronouns and gendered wording
The Devil breaking into heaven to eat an angel to consume its powers, and the angel falls in love with him as they die.
Make this list longer!!! I love writing and I need to gain independence in my life, which apparantly costs MONEY?!?!! Fluff is ALWAYS joyfully written and accepted. Justc ause I'm a freak, doesn't mean you have to be 😎 hmu though if you are, fr fr.
It says you do drabble here, would you wanna try one for Lil ol me? It could be for a certain Lord 🐇
Riding The Bull
Your hips bucked as you tried to keep purchase, tucking your knees tightly against his hard body. It was a futile attempt, and you'd hoped you had made it atleast a few seconds before loosing your grip on the hulking beast. As you landed with a thud on your back in the dirt, the towering bull huffed a laugh. You looked up at his dark eyes, noticing the uncanny human-like expression on his face. But he was neither bull nor human. Ba'alzebub's hooves shook the ground as he moved to lean over you. His large head took up your vision, the ring in his nose glinting in the light. "Not even a full second." He said, his voice a low rumble. You whined loudly, punching your fist into the dirt. "That's less than last time!" you cried, trying to regain your footing. "Tell you what, kid." The hulking god began, "Stay on for two seconds and I'll give you a reward." His bull face winked, and your rolled your eyes. Climbing back onto his back, you braced yourself for him to buck. "Go." You said. Ba'al didn't move, he only counted. "One." He said. You scrunched your face up in confusion, as he didn't try to push you off. "Two." He finished. You were still unmoving, and he stopped counting. "What?" you asked, knowing it couldn't have been that easy. You were glad you hadn't let go as he started rocking back and forth, but it wasn't the high bounding kicks he was using before. He pitched forward and you had to manuever to stay on top of him. As you did, the friction of movement caught you in a spark of pleasure. Oh. This what your reward. Ba'alzebub bucked again, enough to move you down his back, turning to move you in violent yet elegant directions. You were holding onto his horns for dear life as you ground against his back. Your pleasure was mounting, and it mixed with the sounds of his huffs, the thud of his hooves on the hard ground beneath you. He was a powerful thing in any form, but you loved this one. He bucked into the air as your orgasm hit you. It hadn't receded as you lost your grip. Flying towards the ground once more, you didn't mind it so much. As your back hit the ground again, you were glad the impact didn't distract you from the blinding pleasure of coming in mid air. Ba'alzebub was over you again, chuckling to himself. "I lost count of how long that was." he said, "We need to do it again."
Order your comissioned smut here. I have multiple word count options and will write pretty much anything. Dm me with questions!
The demonic puppy boy support group is at 8pm. We are meeting in a new location due to being too good of boys for the violence circle. Please leave your patrons outside, this is a closed meeting. Matrons have their own lounge, as usual. Snacks are encouraged. We are having a guest speaker from the Satantic Cat Girls, please help her feel welcomed.
I'm on my period and Lucifer loves forcemascing people so here is a transmasc period sex drabble with The Morningstar. Head over to my site if you want a commission.
CW: period sex
When you’d woken up in the pool of blood earlier this morning, you knew it would be a hard day. Even with your partner’s proclivity for viscera, the pain and dysphoria couldn’t keep you from devolving into ideas you’d left behind. “Such a strong boy.” Lucifer was praising at your ear, a streak of red painting his perfect cheek. As he descended back down your body, you let out a sigh. Your husband was known for the rigorous way he showed up to validate the trans experience. You thought perhaps he was being a bit over zealous with it, now. One clawed hand came to smear blood up your body. The sheets beneath you were wrecked. Small bloody sigils were drawn around you on the bed, and you could feel them heightening your pleasure. Your cock was so hard it hurt as Lucifer’s mouth encircled it. His other hand was fucking into you, the sounds loud from the mix of blood and come. Your pleasure was building fast, your cramps now complacently hidden behind the devil’s beautiful torment of you. Lucifer paused only a moment, his red eyes locking onto yours. “I want your come and blood in my mouth. Now.” He commanded, and you snapped to attention at the quickness with which he lost his smile. He was burning now, covered in your fluids, his teeth and lips bloody. When he connected back with you, you did not have to work hard to meet his demands. You came on his tongue, sharing the flavor of you as he savored it. “That’s my good boy, that’s my good boy.” he was chanting in worship, as you came down from your high. As he held you in his arms after, his perfect skin streaked in red, you coiled your finger into a ringlet of smoke from his cigarette. You could feel the growl of his voice as he spoke, “I love wearing another man’s blood.” he grumbled with a genuine sigh. You admired the colorful streaks running up his rippled bicept. Not many bloodied up the Morningstar and lived to tell the tale. You thought he wouldn’t look finer in anything at all, you liked how your blood looked on him.
Custom NSFW devotional writing and smut commissions
I have been having so much fun with these smut comissions. I got to write Belial not owning a single shirt, I've written unlikely sexy alliances between Gods, and I am writing some of the cotton candy sweetest fluff about my friends and how much their partners worship them back. To celebrate how much I love my job, here is a code for 18% off all my smut comissions. It'll only be running until my NSFW dance card is full. Dm me with questions I will write both that weird and wholesome good stuff.
Visit LuciferianOracle at Ko-fi for 18% discount off NSFW comissions
Sunrise with a Demon Part 5: Midnight in Kyoto (male demon oc x female fae oc)
Summary: After a long day of sightseeing, Melaiel and Ellyvive return to their hotel and spend the evening reconnecting and enriching their relationship.
This commissioned piece picks up directly where PART 4 one left off. Make sure you've checked it out! Find all parts here and in my commissions folder in patre0n!
Here are some Japanese terms and names appearing in the story:
Shibari: Japanese rope bondage, an art form
Onsen: Traditional Japanese hot spring bath
Futon: A traditional Japanese mattress
Again, I used several resources while researching shibari (Japanese rope techniques). If you’d like a visual of the position Mel uses with Elly in this story, these links may help ;;)) link 1 | link 2
Additional links I enjoyed: Everything you want to know about shibari
Bathing at a Japanese Hot Spring (Mel and Elly have a private on in their room)
Inside a Japanese Onsen Ryokan (Elly and Mel stay in one!)
The hotel room door hadn't even clicked shut before Melaiel's came down on hers.
It was the kind of kiss that said I've been waiting all day for this, I need you now.
Ellyvive moaned into him, her fingers fisting in his shirt, feeling the hard ridge of his cock press against her belly through his pants. His tongue plundered her mouth, tangling with hers, and she melted.
"Mel," she gasped against his mouth.
"Let me." His hands were everywhere—shoving her jeans and panties down her thighs, yanking her sweater over her head, clawing at the clasp of her bra. "Just—let me—"
She sighed softly when her clothes hit the floor and his palms immediately clamped onto her breasts. Still fully clothed, he squeezed the mounds greedily, his thumbs dragging over her nipples until they pebbled into tight buds.
"Someone missed me," she teased, arching into his touch, pushing her tits into his hands.
He answered by spinning her around and slamming her against the wall, lifting her leg, his bulge grinding against her bare pussy. She could feel the heat of his cock through his pants, the thick length pressing right where she needed it.
"You have no idea." His mouth found her throat, teeth scraping, tongue lapping. "I've been holding back all day. Every time you bent over. Every time you smiled at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you knew exactly what you were doing to me. Like you wanted me to throw you down and fuck you senseless right there."
She grinned, grinding back against his hardness. "Did you miss burying that thick demon cock inside my wet pussy?"
"Yes," he snarled, his hips bucking against her. "Always. My balls ache for you, princess. Been hard since breakfast."
"Poor baby."
"Don't mock me." He kissed her again, devouring her mouth, his tongue tangling with hers. She whimpered into him, hands blindly pulling at his shirt, needing him to be as naked as her.
"Off," she demanded. "Take these off."
He stepped back just long enough to yank his shirt over his head, and gods... she would never get tired of looking at him. The broad shoulders, the carved chest, the trail of dark hair leading down his stomach to the waistband of his pants. His horns caught the low light of the room, curving back from his temples, his handsome face feral with need.
"Time to fuck, babygirl."
He reached for her but she stepped back.
He growled, a low, dangerous sound that went straight to her core.
"Wait. I want to do something first."
His eyebrows went up. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah." She eyed the bulge in his pants. "Something I've been thinking about all day."
Sensually, she slid down his body, dragging her nipples across his stomach, her teeth catching on the waistband of his pants. She went on her knees and he groaned above her, his hands fisting in her hair. She looked up at him through her lashes as she worked his belt open.
"You were so good today," she murmured, pulling his zipper down. "At the shrine. At the museum. The owls."
She tugged his pants and boxers down his hips, and his cock sprang free, huge and leaking, the head flushed, beads of precum dripping down the shaft. She wrapped her hand around the base, felt him twitch, felt the heat of him.
"You were so damn good, Mel. Such a good boy for me today."
"Ell—"
"Let me thank you."
His breath caught. "You don't have to—"
"I want to." She trailed her mouth to the head of his cock, giving it small, kittenish licks, tasting the salt and musk of him. "I really, really want to."
"Fuck..." His chest rose and fell faster, abs flexing. "Okay. Okay, princess."
She took him in her mouth. Just the head at first. Sucking gently, her tongue swirling around the ridge. He made a sound and his fingers tightened in her hair. She sank down lower, taking more of him, her lips stretching around his girth. She moaned around him.
"Fuck," he whispered. "Your mouth—fuck, Elly—"
She pulled away, grinning up at him. "That's not even the good part yet."
"Wha—"
She shoved him backward. He stumbled, caught himself on the edge of the futon, and she crawled after him on hands and knees, easing him down onto his back. He growled at her, so fucking beautiful she wanted to eat him alive.
"Lay back," she said, pushing on his chest. "I'm gonna suck your soul out through your dick."
And before he could think of a reply, she got to work.
Swallowed him again.
His whole body arched off the futon, a guttural roar tearing out of his chest. Relaxing her throat, she took even more of him and breathed through her nose. Pushed down and down until her nose pressed against his pelvis. His broad cock filled her throat—she gagged slightly and the vibration made him curse.
"Holy fuck," he gasped. "Holy fuck—agghhh!"
Withdrawing, she dragged her lips up his shaft, then plunged back down. Again. And again. All the while, she held his gaze. Their eyes locked as she took him back into her mouth, as she sank down until her throat convulsed around him, as tears leaked from the corners of her eyes and drool dripped down her chin.
"Fuck," he whispered. "You're so fucking pretty like this. My pretty princess with my cock in her throat—look at you... Taking all of me. Choking on it—"
She doubled down. Sucked harder. Let her throat work around him, swallowing, massaging, worshipping. He growled, his hips snapping up to meet her, and she let him fuck her throat, let him use her, because she wanted it. She wanted all of it. Wanted to feel him pulse on her tongue. Wanted to taste his cum.
She hadn't even noticed how wet she was—too focused on his pleasure, on the way he pulsed on her tongue. But the moment his fingers slid through her folds from below, she let out a loud whimper that echoed around his massive shaft. He pushed one thick finger into the clench of her empty hole, then two, stretching her.
"Damn, Elly," he rumbled, his fingers pumping into her cunt. "You're fucking drenched. Is this all for me? All this wet, needy cunt juice—is it all for me?"
She nodded as best she could with her mouth stuffed full, tears streaming down her cheeks, drool pooling on his pelvis. He smirked and burned the image into his mind; his Elly was a mess. A beautiful, desperate mess.
He slid his fingers out of her and she whimpered at the loss, her pussy clenching around nothing. He brought his fingers to his mouth. Sucked them clean, one by one, making a show of it. His eyes rolled back and a primitive moan rumbled out of his chest.
"Fuck, you taste divine." He pulled her off his cock with a wet pop, strings of saliva connecting her lips to his glistening head. "I need to be inside you. Now."
"Then get inside me."
Ellyvive expected him to pounce on her, flip her over and ram his cock into her. Instead, he guided her backward until she landed on the futon, her back hitting the mattress. He stepped back. Walked over to his bag. Pulled something out—a length of red rope, coiled neatly in his hands.
She blinked. "What's that?"
"Shibari." He knelt in front of her, his hard cock bobbing in the air. "Japanese rope bondage. I've been reading about it. Practicing on myself." His thumb traced her cheekbone. "I want to try it with you. If you trust me."
"Mel." She leaned into his touch. "I trust you with everything."
"Then get on your hands and knees."
She moved without thinking, positioning herself on all fours. Her pussy was dripping, aching for him, but she held still. Waiting. He curled behind her. The rope brushed against her hip, soft and cool.
"I'm going to tie you in a momo shibari," he explained. "It keeps your pretty ass up and your pretty holes open for me. Spreads you wide so I can see everything." He planted a kiss to her shoulder blade. "You tell me if anything feels wrong. You say the word and I stop. Understand?"
"Yes," she whispered. "I understand."
"Good girl. Give me your hands."
He started with her wrists. Binding them together, the rope snug but not painful, looping around and around in an intricate pattern. She watched him work, fascinated by the way he created something beautiful out of simple rope. He kissed each wrist as he worked, asking if it was too tight, if she could still feel her fingers.
"All good," she said.
Satisfied, he took hold of her bound hands and pulled them under, between her legs, until her face was pressed into the futon, her ass rising higher in the air. Her arms were trapped beneath her, passed between her spread thighs, and she could barely move. The position forced her chest down, tits pressed into the mattress, nipples rubbing against the fabric.
"Fuck," she whispered. "Mel—"
"I've got you." He ran his hands over her ass, then used the rope to wrap around her thighs—two turns, then three, binding her legs to her body, spreading her further open. Buttocks offered up, pussy and asshole on full display. "Look at you. So fucking pretty like this. All tied up and dripping for me."
She tried to shift, but the harness held her in place.
Completely immobilized. Completely at his mercy.
"Please," she whimpered. "Mel, please—"
"Please what, babygirl?" Crouching behind her, he nudged his cock against her entrance. Dragged the head through her folds, spreading her wetness, coating himself. "Use your words."
"Please fuck me. Please put your cock inside me. I need it. I need it so bad—"
He pushed in. The bulky crown spread her slit, her juices frothing around him with a wet squelch. She moaned, trying to push back against him, but the ropes held her still. All she could do was take it.
"Ah-ah," he chided, his hand coming down on her ass with a sharp slap, making her gasp and lock up around him. "You don't get to move, princess. I move. You just take it."
Hips rolling, he sank deeper. Speared her open. Another inch. Another. More. More. Her pussy stretched around him, impossibly full, the thick length of him filling every part of her. She sobbed into the futon at how good it felt.
"That's it." His finger found her asshole, circling the sensitive rim. "That's my good girl. Taking my cock so fucking well. Your cunt is gripping me like a fist."
He worked her in slow thrusts at first, each one pushing him farther inside her. Went so deep that she felt him in her throat, in her chest, in her fucking soul. His finger kept teasing her ass, pressing just at the entrance, fluttering around the tight ring of muscle.
"You feel that?" He pulled almost all the way, then rammed back in. She cried out. "Feel how your pretty cunt is gripping me? Like it never wants to let me go."
"It doesn't," she sobbed into the futon. "Never. Never let go."
The words unlocked something primal in him. He fucked her harder. Faster. His hips pistoning, pounding into her, the soundsof her wet pussy echoing in the quiet room. Determined to drive her over the edge, he pushed his finger pushed into her asshole.
"Mmgnn! Don't stop... please don't stop. Mel... I'm almost there."
"Fuck yes," he snarled. "That's it. Come on my cock, princess."
Two more plunges and she shattered, her muscles seizing around him, pulsing around his shaft. Her whole body shook, her vision whiting out, her mouth open in a silent scream.
"That's my girl," he growled, not slowing down. "Ride it out. Give me another one."
He kept pounding, going even rougher, and she loved it—loved the way he used her, loved the ropes digging into her skin, loved the complete and total surrender. Another orgasm crashed over her, and then another, her body shaking uncontrollably, drool and tears streaming down her face.
"Look at you," he growled, pulling her head back. "Tied up and taking my cock like a fucking champ. My wild little thing. My beautiful mate."
"Yes!" she gasped. "Yours. I'm yours!"
"So tight," he growled. "Even after all the times I've fucked you, your cunt's choking the life out of my dick. And your ass—" He pushed another finger all the way in, and she mewled in bliss. "Even your sweet ass is begging for it, winking and spreading every time I pound your sloppy pussy."
She whimpered in bliss. "Hgnn... so tight for you... f-feels so good how you fill my pussy and... gnn—stretch my ass more, I want it all.”
And more she got.
He worked both her holes.
Fingered her ass while he claimed her pussy, his thumb pressing against her perineum. The pleasure was too intense to be real. But she was wrong about the limit. His free hand reached under and found her clit, rubbing circles on the swollen nub, and she shattered violently, her whole body convulsing
"That's it," he groaned, ramming her through it. "How many more can you give me, princess? How many times can I make you come before you break?"
She couldn't answer. Couldn't think. Couldn't do anything except feel his cock pounding into her, feel his fingers pistoning in her ass. The ropes bit into her skin, holding her spread open, keeping her exactly how he wanted her.
Another orgasm exploded out of her.
Then another.
And another.
They crashed over her, one after another, until she lost count entirely.
Until the world narrowed to just him, just her demon fucking her like some kind of god behind her. Because Melaiel still hadn't come. He showed no signs of stopping, no signs of slowing down. His cock was iron-hard inside her, pulsing but not spilling.
But she was tired of being moveless. She craved him; craved touching him, kissing him, feeling his weight on top of her, his skin against hers.
"Mel." Her voice was a whisper. She tried again, louder. "Mel. Please!"
His thrusts stuttered.
"Please," she begged, catching a glimpse of his face over her shoulder. His eyes were wild, lips parted, sweat dripping down his chest. "I need to feel you. Please untie me—"
The ropes went loose immediately.
Her wrists came free first. He worked the knots with his fingers, muttering sweet nothings against her shoulder. Then her ankles. The moment the last rope fell away, he was rubbing the marks, kissing her reddened skin, massaging her skin with gentle hands.
"Speak to me, princess," he rasped. "Shit, did I—are you okay? I didn't mean to go that long without checking in—"
Ellyvive flipped onto her back and hauled him down on top of her, wrapping her legs around his waist. His chest crushed against her tits, his heavy weight of him molding her into the futon. His face hovered inches from hers, those molten gold eyes wide with worry, his brow furrowed.
"I'm alright," she smiled, touching his face. "I loved being tied and fucked by you. Loved every second of it, Mel. But now I need you close. I need to touch you. I need to see your face when you come."
Wiggling a little, she angled her hips, reached down between them, and wrapped her fingers around his slick, twitching shaft. Guided him back to her entrance. Welcomed him. He delved into her smoothly, burying himself to the hilt in a long plunge.
They both groaned. She was so sensitive. Every inch of her pussy felt raw and swollen, and he felt just as wrecked, his cock pulsing inside her, his breath coming in shaky hits against her lips.
"Mmm." She clenched around him on purpose. "That feels so fucking good."
"Yeah?" He drew back and then plunged forward. "You like when I fuck you slow, princess? When I make you feel every inch of my cock?"
"Love it." She clenched again, tighter this time, watching his jaw go tight, a muscle ticking in his cheek. "Love feeling you inside me. Love how thick you are. How you fill me up."
He kissed her. No— devoured her. His tongue plundered her mouth, tangling with hers, tasting like him and her own cum from when he'd licked it off his fingers earlier. She moaned into him and crossed her ankles behind his back, pulling him deeper.
"Tell me how I feel, princess," he rasped against her lips. "Use your dirty words. I want to hear it."
"You feel—" She mewled when hit that sweet spot inside her. "You feel like home. Like the only place I ever want to be. Your cock is so thick, Mel. So fucking huge. Stretching me open. Stuffing me. Making me feel full inside out—"
"Yesss." His thrusts got harder. Desperate. His rhythm faltered. "Keep going."
"You're gonna make me come again."
Her tits bounced with every drive of his hips, her pebbled nipples brushing against his chest, sending sparks through her. She gripped his horns and held on as he rammed into her, using the curved bone to pull him closer.
She continued, "You're gonna make me come all over your cock, and then you're gonna fill me up. Gonna pump your cum so deep inside me that I'll be dripping for days..."
He growled. "You're already dripping. Your cum made a puddle on the futon—"
"I want your cum," she specified and clenched around him, making his eyes roll back. "I want to make an even bigger mess. I want you. Every fucking drop. Come inside me, Mel. Come inside your mate—"
That did it.
Cock swelling, he came with a guttural roar, pumping into her in endless spurts. She felt each pulse, felt her pussy fill up, felt it start to leak out around his shaft. His whole body shuddered and he nuzzled her neck, nosing the space where her shoulder met her throat until—
He bit her. Sunk his sharp teeth into the curve of her neck, right where it met her shoulder, deep. So deep she saw stars bursting behind her eyelids. So deep the pain and pleasure crashed together and exploded outward.
"Oh gods, yes!" she cried out, nails raking down his back. "Bite me deeper. Mark me!"
Mel growled and dug his teeth, his jaw locking, his fangs piercing her flesh. Blood welled up, hot and copper-sweet, and he sucked, claiming her taste and burying his scent in her forever.
More pleasure-pain. Her vision whited out. Her core flooded with sensation. She came again, a smaller climax this time, a pulsed aftershock that clenched rhythmically around his pulsating cock.
Encasing her within his arms, he licked the wound. Cleaned the blood, soothed the torn flesh. His breath came in shaky pants against her neck as he muttered lovewords against her skin.
About how good she tasted. About how pretty she looked with his mark on her. About how she was his now, forever, body and soul.
Ellyvive wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held him, loving the feel of his tongue on her, loving his scent flooding her senses. Her throat throbbed—pleasantly—and her whole body felt connected to his in a way it never had before.
"Ahhh... You drive me absolutely mad, do you know that?" he mumbled into her neck.
She chuckled, her fingers threading through his hair. "I figured."
Melaiel's eyes fixed on her, his lips rosy with remnants of her blood. "Are you okay? I lost it there. I... I didn't mean to go so far without your command. I should have asked before I bit you."
Elly smiled up at him, her thumb tracing his lips. "I am okay. It feels sore, but it's a mark I will wear proudly. You marked me as your mate. I am so happy."
She'd known what this meant to demons; that marking their mates, their fated souls, was final. Once it was done, there was no undoing it. She'd wondered, sometimes, if he'd ever do it. If he thought she was worth claiming.
Now she had her answer.
"I love you so damn much," he drawled, emotional. "This mark binds us. I'm yours. Body and soul. Every part of me."
"I feel it... our bond," she said back, clenching around his still-hard cock inside her. "It's the most beautiful thing I've ever felt. Don't stop. Stay with me. Fuck me slow and deep while you lick my mark."
He stared at her for a heartbeat.
And he did just like she asked.
Later... much later, after he'd fucked her every way imaginable and made a complete mess of the sheets, after they'd both collapsed in a heap of sweat, cum and tangled limbs, they found their way to the private onsen of their room.
Steam rose from the water, curling up into the cool night air. The sky above was scattered with stars, brighter here in the Japanese mountains than anywhere in the city. Bamboo rustled softly in the breeze. The water lapped gently.
Ellyvive sank into the hot spring with a groan, her sore muscles screaming in the best way. Mel had done her good. Every part of her ached—her throat from taking his cock, her pussy and ass, her wrists and thighs from the ropes, the fresh bite mark on her neck pulsing.
However, she felt treasured and so fucking content.
Melaiel curled in behind her, drawing her back against his chest. His arms wrapped around her waist, his chin hovering near her injured shoulder. The hot water lapped at her skin, soothing the bite mark, the rope burns and every other sore muscle.
"Oh," she sighed, heat seeping into her muscles. "Oh, that's good."
Mel didn't reply. His eyes kept drifting to her neck, to the dark bruise where his teeth had been.
"That was," she smiled, tilting her head back against his shoulder, "a lot of fucking."
He laughed. "Good a lot or bad a lot?"
"What do you think?"
"I think you came about twenty-three times, so probably good. I counted."
She grinned. "Show-off."
They sat in silence for a while, his hands drifting lazily over her stomach, her thighs, her breasts. Throughout their soak, she noticed; the way his mouth kept returning to her neck. Nuzzling the spot where he'd bitten her. Tracing the indentations of his teeth.
"You're obsessed," she mumbled, eyes half-closed.
"I'm admiring." His thumb brushed over the bite mark, making her shiver. "It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen on you."
"Will it heal?"
"It won't. Not completely. Demons mark their mates for life. This—" He kissed the wound tenderly. "This means you're mine. Every demon who sees this will know you're claimed. Every fae, every human, every fucking creature in any realm."
She turned her head to look at him, her green eyes meeting his gold. "Good."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." She reached up and touched his face, his stubbled jaw, the curve of his horn. "You made me so sore today. I'm weirdly happy about it, even if I'll be walking funny tomorrow."
"I'm happy you're happy, princess. I love your mark so much. If I could mark you again, I would."
She rolled in his arms, water splashing, straddling his lap in the warm water. Her arms looped around his neck, her tits pressing against his chest. "Again?"
He hummed. "But I already did. I can't do it again, my teeth would cause fatal damage. The first bite is enough."
"What if I marked you?"
He groaned, his hands sliding down to grip her ass. "Don't fucking tempt me—"
"I want to!" She leaned in, her mouth hovering over his neck. "I want to bite you. Right here." She nestled against the spot where his neck met his shoulder. "I want to claim you as well. The same way you claimed me. I want to feel your blood on my tongue. I want to wear your mark, and I want you to wear mine."
Melaiel bore his neck, beaming at the prospect. "Go on."
She pouted. "Don't be silly. I don't have fangs like you."
"So?"
"So I can't mark you properly." She was dejected. "It wouldn't show. It would just be a bruise."
He offered his neck again, pushing his head further to the side. "Bite me, princess. Bite me as hard as you can. I want to feel it."
Driven by instinct, she did.
Sank her teeth into his neck, just like he'd done with her. Not gentle, not tentative, the complete opposite of everything she'd been taught about being a proper fae lady. Her blunt teeth pressed into his skin, harder, harder, until his flesh gave, until the copper taste of blood flooded her mouth.
Mel roared in pure pleasure, and embraced her so tightly it bordered on overwhelming. His cock hardened again, became a hot rod nudging her belly under the water. She rubbed against it and clamped down rougher, grinding her teeth into the wound, and he came undone beneath her. Just like that.
"Fuck," he gasped. "Fuck, fuck, fuck—"
She unlatched, her lips stained black with his blood, and looked at what she'd done. The bite was ragged, nothing like the neat puncture marks of fangs. It would scar. It would show. Everyone who saw it would know he was claimed. Hers. She was so damn proud of herself.
"I am even prouder of you," Mel added, reading her thoughts. "Our bond is complete. Two-way. You're in me, and I'm in you."
"We're one," she whispered, licking the blood from her lips.
He kissed her, licking his own blood off her lips. "Do it again."
"What?"
"Bite me again. I want to feel it again. I want to feel it for days. I want to look in the mirror and see your teeth in my skin and know I belong to you."
She laughed giddily. "You're insane."
"Wanna see insane?" He moved his head, exposing his bloody neck. "Bite me again, princess. Make it hurt. I love it."
She did. Marked him again, higher this time. Bit down until she tasted fresh blood, until he groaned and thrust up into her, until she was riding him in the hot water, his cock buried in her depths, both of them bleeding and fucking in the warm water.
"Mine," she snarled against his skin.
"Yours," he gasped, impaling her over and over. "Always yours. Forever yours. Fuck, Elly, bite me again, please, please—"
She bit him a third time and he shattered, his cock pulsing inside her, pumping her full again, and she shattered with him, her sore walls seizing around him, her teeth locked on his throat.
"I can't believe you bit me three times," Mel said, blissed-out and sleepy. "Who's insane now? Hm?"
"I can't believe you came from it."
"It was so fucking good. I think you broke my brain. And my dick." He grinned. "Worth it."
She kissed his jaw, careful of the fresh bites. "I'm glad. I feel... relieved. And steadier than ever."
"I feel the same." His thumb traced circles on her hip under the water. "No more uncertainty. Now I'll look at that bite on your neck, and I'll look at the bites on mine, and I'll think... yeah... this is forever. This is actually, genuinely forever."
"Took you long enough to figure it out."
He chuckled. "I'm a demon, princess. We're slow learners."
"No," she said, kissing him gently. "You're just stubborn."
"Same thing."
"Not even a little bit."
They soaked until their fingers pruned, until the stars shifted in the sky. And when they finally climbed out, wrapped themselves in soft robes and stumbled back to their room, Ellyvive caught sight of them in the mirror—her neck bruised with his bite, his neck bruised with hers—and warmed with joy.
An Demon x Necromancer reader who both are single parents Demon's daughter was born from his blood (so doesn't have a mom) and Necromancer's son was adopted after she resurrected him (he was killed by his disturbed abusive aunt because she wanted a girl and his dad did nothing to stop it nor care) they meet while shopping with their kids, (love at first sight) started hanging out more and more than one thing lead to another of course
Raising Hell (and Each Other)
Pairing: male!demon (Marco) x fem!necromancer!reader!2nd!POV
Warnings: NSFT, MDNI, dirty talk, rough sex, hair pulling, biting/marking, oral sex (male and female receiving), fingering, PIV, mention of child death and abuse (past, off-page), resurrection of a child, single parents, emotional.
Summary: you are a lonely necromancer raising your resurrected son, when one day you meet a demon raising his blood-born daughter . What starts as a meet-cute over tantrums and spilled apples becomes so much more...
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The grocery store's lights flickered at 8:47 PM on a Tuesday.
You hated this place. Hated the way the wheels on your cart squeaked no matter which one you grabbed. Hated the way your son Theo kept trying to add rainbow sprinkle cookies to the cart when he knew damn well you were here for milk, bread, and the cheap coffee that kept your corpse-adjacent existence functional.
"Mom. Mom. Mom."
"Theo."
"Mom."
You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose. "What, baby?"
"Can I get the cookies?"
"No."
He pouted—a truly impressive pout, given that he'd been a corpse a few months ago before you'd dragged his soul back from wherever it had been hiding. Seven years old, tiny glasses perpetually askew on his face, and a stubborn streak that could raise the dead.
Which. You know. You'd done exactly that.
Something crashed behind you. A full-body flinch ripped through your shoulders as you spun around, necromantic energy prickling at your fingertips out of pure reflex—
And stopped.
A man stood three aisles over, but you could feel him before you saw him. That particular aura. That hunger. The way the shadows in the canned goods aisle seemed to lean toward him.
He was tall. Dark hair that curved around his jaw. Skin the color of dried clay, almost gray in the bad lighting. His eyes found yours across the distance and held.
Gold. His eyes were gold. Actual, molten, demon gold.
"Papa, I want the dinosaur nuggets!"
A little girl tugged at his leather-clad arm. Tiny horns curled from her temples, catching the light. Her hair was the same dark waterfall as his, and when she stomped her foot, sparks actually spat from her shoes onto the linoleum.
The demon looked down at her, then back at you.
Then he smiled.
Oh, you thought, watching him crouch to negotiate dinosaur nugget diplomacy with his child. Oh no.
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Three weeks later, you'd made an acquaintance with him. You'd met enough times at the supermarket to finally strike up a conversation. You'd learned his name was Marco and his blood-born daughter was named Vesper. You were both single parents so you started hanging out.
Now you were in his kitchen while your kids decorated each other's faces with washable markers in the living room.
"Your son," Marco said, sliding a glass of something dark and red across the counter toward you, "wrote 'PAPA POOPY' on Vesper's forehead."
You snorted wine—it was wine, you'd checked, not blood—through your nose. "She let him."
"She did. She's now insisting it's her 'war paint.'"
"Sounds about right."
He leaned against the counter across from you, arms crossed over his chest. A black button-down, sleeves rolled to his elbows, exposing forearms dusted with fine dark hair and the occasional flicker of something that looked like living veins of magma beneath his skin. His chest hair curled at the open collar, sparse but dark, trailing down into whatever sexiness lived beneath the fabric.
Your mouth went dry. You gulped.
"You're staring," he said.
"You're worth staring at."
His laugh was rough, surprised. "Necromancers."
"What about us?"
"Blunt." He pushed off the counter and rounded the corner. "No fear of death. No fear of monsters." His voice dropped. "No fear of me."
Your pulse hammered against your throat. "Should I be?"
He stopped close enough that you could smell him; smoke and something mineral. His hand came up, knuckles brushing your jaw, and the touch sent lightning skipping down your spine.
"I don't know yet," he murmured. "Do you want to find out?"
The kids shrieked with laughter in the other room. Something that sounded like a pillow fort collapsed.
You set down your glass. "Theo goes to bed at nine."
"Vesper's out by eight-thirty."
"That gives us..."
"An hour or so. maybe more..." His thumb traced your lower lip, dragging it down. "If we're quiet."
You turned your head, caught his thumb between your teeth, bit down gently. "I don't do quiet."
His pupils blew wide, gold iris swallowed by black. "Good."
The kids went down at eight-fifteen. Vesper passed out cold mid-story, her tiny demon tail wrapped around Theo's wrist. Theo, traitor that he was, was already snoring against her shoulder.
Marco shut their door with a soft click.
You were waiting in the hallway, back against the wall, arms crossed.
He looked at you, feeling grateful and aroused. You'd caught him staring all the time. At coffee shops. At the park. At the terrible frozen yogurt place the kids insisted on. That look that said I see you, I want you, I am barely containing myself.
"Bedroom," he said roughly.
"Yeah."
He took your hand. His palm was rough, calloused and hot; like holding a stone that had been sitting in the sun too long. The heat spread up your arm, into your chest, settling between your thighs.
His bedroom was dark. Lit only by the city glow through half-closed blinds. A massive bed dominated the space, sheets rumpled, pillows piled high. The air smelled like him, something that made your hindbrain purr 'mate, monster, yours'
He turned you against the door as soon as it closed, caging you with his body, one hand flat beside your head, the other cupping your jaw.
"I've been thinking about this," he said, mouth hovering over yours. Not kissing. Breathing you in. "Thinking about you. Every night. Every morning. Every time you laugh at my daughter's terrible jokes."
"Her jokes are terrible."
"They're mine." His teeth grazed your lower lip. "Just like you're going to be."
Your laugh came out breathless. "Possessive."
"Mine."
He kissed you.
Fuck.
His mouth was scorching. Not metaphorically but genuinely hot. His tongue swept against yours and you kissed him back, head spinning. Your hands fisted in his shirt, dragging him closer, closer, closer, until his hips pinned you against the door and you felt him—
Felt him.
Thick.
HUGE.
Even through his jeans, even through your leggings, the weight of him pressed against your thigh made your eyes roll back. Long. Heavy. The kind of cock that made you understand why some ancient cultures worshipped demons.
"Shit," you gasped against his mouth.
He growled. "Feel that, little necromancer? Feel what you've been doing to me?"
"What—" His hips rolled against yours and your sentence splintered into a moan. "Nngh—fuck, Marco—"
"My name. Yesss." He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, gold bleeding back into black. "Say it again."
"Marco."
"Again."
"Mar—" His mouth slammed back onto yours, hungry, desperate, and you arched into him, nails scraping down his back through the fabric of his shirt.
He shuddered. Actually shuddered, a full-body tremor that made his hips jerk against yours again, and the friction sent lightning straight to your clit.
"Bed," you whined. "Bed, now, I need—"
"Tell me."
"Need you. Need your cock. Need—"
He lifted you. Your legs wrapped around his waist and the new angle pressed his erection directly against your pussy, denim against leggings, not nearly enough but fuck it was so much.
You were already wet. Embarrassingly wet, slick pooling in your underwear, and when he laid you back on the mattress and settled between your thighs, you knew he could feel the heat of you through the fabric.
"Take these off," he ordered, tugging at your leggings. "Now."
You lifted your hips and he ripped them down your legs—along with your underwear, a tearing sound that would have been concerning if you'd had any brain cells left. You didn't. They'd scattered the moment his golden eyes had found yours in a grocery store three weeks ago.
He froze.
Staring at your bare pussy, spread open for him.
"Fuck."
"What?"
"Your—" He licked his lips. "You're shaved. All of it. Just—" His fingers ghosted over your mound, then down between your legs, tracing your outer lips without touching where you needed him most. "That's so—fuck, necromancer."
"Y/N," you breathed. "My name. It's Y/N."
"Y/N." He tasted the name like wine. "Sweetheart, your cunt is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
Heat flooded your cheeks. "That's—you don't have to—"
"I'm a demon." He pressed a kiss to your inner thigh. Then another. Higher. He made a feral sound as he nosed against your slit, inhaling. "I don't lie. I don't flatter. Your pussy is perfect. Bare. Wet. Mmph—"
His mouth covered you.
You sobbed.
His hands clamped down on your hips, holding you in place as his tongue dragged through your folds, broad and flat and hot. The heat of his mouth was delicious—like being eaten alive by fire. His nose pressed against your clit with every pass of his tongue and your vision went white at the edges.
"Ah—fuck—Marco—"
He hummed against you, the vibration shooting straight through your clit, and your back bowed off the bed. Shlick shlick shlick—the sound of his mouth working your pussy filled the room, mixing with your moans and his demon groans.
He pulled back just long enough to speak, lips glistening, chin wet. "Taste so good. Better than I imagined. And I imagined everything, sweetheart. Every night. Dreaming about this pretty pussy."
Two fingers pressed at your entrance without warning and slid inside, curling forward, finding that spot that made your toes curl.
"This spot right here?"
"YES—"
"Thought so." He crooked them again, rubbing in slow circles while his mouth dropped back to your clit. "Yessss, you're squelching for me. Listen—"
Shlick schlick schlck—your own wetness echoed, every time his fingers plunged back in. His tongue circled your clit in counterpoint, and the pressure building in your gut was going to kill you.
"I'm gonna—I'm close—"
"No—" He shook his head against your cunt, the motion dragging his nose across your clit. "Not yet. Want you to come on my cock. Want to feel you squeeze me."
He withdrew his fingers and you whined at the loss. Smirking, he sat back on his heels. His shirt came off first, revealing a chest covered in dark hair that tapered down his stomach, over the ridges of his abs, to the waistband of his jeans.
Then his jeans.
He unbuttoned them slowly. Watching you watch him. The zipper came down zzzzp and you could see the shape of him straining against his boxer; a massive, heavy line pressing against the dark fabric, the head already pushing past the waistband, flushed and wet at the tip.
"Like what you see?" he asked, voice rough.
"Show me."
He hooked his thumbs in his waistband and pulled.
His cock sprang free—long, thick, curved slightly upward, with a heavy set of balls behind it that made your mouth water. The head was dark, almost purple, slick with precum that beaded at the slit. Veins ran along the shaft and when he wrapped his hand around himself and stroked, a bead of precum dripped down and hung there, suspended, before falling to his thigh.
"You're—" You sat up, reaching for him. "You're beautiful."
He caught your wrist. "Later. First—"
He guided you back down, crawling over you, one hand beside your head, the other lining himself up. The head of his cock nudged against your entrance—hot, so hot, and you both groaned in unison.
"Hnng—sweetheart—"
"Please—"
He pushed inside.
Just the head. Just the head, and you were already gasping, clawing at his shoulders, because he was big. Bigger than anyone you'd ever had, stretching you open on that thick flare, and the heat of him was almost unbearable.
"Fuck," you whimpered. "Fuckfuckfuck—"
"Shhhh—" His jaw was clenched so tight you could see the cords in his neck. "You can take it. You can. Just—guh—just breathe—"
You breathed.
And he pushed deeper.
Inch by inch. Each movement accompanied by a wet squelch as your body opened for him, as you took him, as he buried himself in your heat until his hips pressed flush against yours and you felt full. Completely, utterly full, with nowhere left for him to go.
"Gods," he whispered, forehead dropping to yours. "Your cunt. Your perfect, tight, gripping cunt. Mmm..." A slow, experimental roll of his hips. Shlick! "Hear that? That's you. That's how wet you are for me."
"Move," you begged. "Move, Marco, I need—"
Deep strokes dragged his cock along every inch of your inner walls, that pressed against your cervix with each thrust, that made you feel split open in the best possible way.
Schlk. Schlk. Schlk.
"Harder," you demanded. "Harder—"
He snarled. And fucked you.
Hard. Fast.
His hips snapped against yours with enough force to shove you up the bed, his hands gripping your thighs, spreading you wider, driving into you with a ferocity that made the headboard slam against the wall.
"Unh—unh—unh—" His rhythm was punishing, his cock hitting that spot inside you with every thrust. "Like that? Like being fucked by a demon, necromancer?"
"YES—don't stop—don't you fucking stop—"
"I won't. Shit—" His pace increased, became almost brutal. "Squeezing me so tight—uh—your pussy's gonna make me come—"
"Then come—"
"Not—nnh—not until you do—"
His thumb found your clit.
The orgasm crashed through you like a wave of black fire, every muscle seizing, your pussy clamping down on his cock in rhythmic, milking pulses that made him howl. Your vision went dark at the edges, sounds distorting, and you were vaguely aware of sobbing—maybe his name, maybe just sound, maybe everything at once.
His hips stuttered. Lost rhythm. He drove into you once, twice, three more times—shlick SCHLICK squelch—and then he froze, head thrown back, mouth open in a silent roar as his cock pulsed inside you. Hot. Flooding. Ropes of his release painting your insides, dripping out around his shaft as he kept thrusting through it, shallow and desperate.
"Nnngh—unh—haaaah—"
He collapsed.
Not on you—caught himself on his elbows at the last second, but his weight still pressed you into the mattress, his face buried in your neck, both of you panting like you'd run a marathon.
"...fuck," you managed.
He laughed. "Yeah."
After, when you'd cleaned up—magic, mostly, because neither of you could move enough to find a towel—when you lay tangled together in his sheets, his chest hair tickling your cheek.
"Theo's going to ask questions," you murmured.
"Vesper already knows." He kissed your hair. "She told me last week that she wanted you to be her mama."
Your chest ached. "She did?"
"Apparently you let her put sprinkles on her ice cream. I don't. Therefore, you are superior."
You laughed. "That's... that's a low bar."
"Y/N." His hand found your chin, tilted your face up to his. Those gold eyes, soft now. "I've been alive for four hundred years. I've never—" He swallowed. "I've never wanted to stay. Until now."
"Marco..."
"I'm not saying forever. Not yet. But I'm saying... this. This thing. Whatever it is." His thumb traced your lower lip. "I want to see where it goes."
You kissed him. A promise of a kiss.
"Okay," you whispered against his mouth. "Let's see."
From the other room, a small voice yelled, "PAPA, THEO WET THE BED!"
"...fuck."
You both started laughing, and somehow, that was the best part of all.
This story is told in 1 vignette/chapters guided by the cards and themes you choose. It comes in around 1000-1500 words. When you message me
Hi friends, I wanted to give a little foreword/vignette combo for a faster and more afforable option of custom smut. I may be a very cool and serious witch at times, but I will glady write that wierd shit with you, your OC, and your blorbo. Whether you want sexy or suffering, I'm your guy! These stories come in at 1000-1500 words and I do not judge. Can't wait to see what you come up with!
