Nestling

He’s ball-deep inside of her, hands at her hips, lifting her up and down his monstrous cock, and she’s elbow-deep inside of him, hands grasping for his organs, fingers clenching down on his entrails every time he thrusts up. 

“What’s the matter?” Cu Alter’s voice is low, like a growl, like the tides in a pitch-dark night. “Getting distracted?”

She is, because who wouldn’t when getting the pounding of their life, but Artoria sure isn’t going to admit that out loud. “You wish. ” She snarls back. Her hands close over something slimy and wet; his liver, from experience. Swiftly, she yanks it off his stomach. There is a disgusting, ripping noise, and Alter grunts in pleasure as she tosses the thing aside, immediately diving back in to scrap more of his viscera off his bones.

It’s a disgusting process. The smell of copper is strong to her nose. The blood sticks under her nails, paints her pale skin red all over. For every organ she pulls out, she has to hear the flesh tear apart, witness the blood vessel strain and break in their desperate attempt to keep this body linked together. It’s gross as hell. It’s revolting. It’s so, so fucking cathartic.

Cu Alter thrusts up, harsher than before, tearing a moan off her. His claws are digging in her skin. It hurts, a little bit. Good. It’s an upfront kind of pain. That kind that leaves marks, the kind no one can deny ever existed, the kind no one can mask as anything else. He cuts and slices at her skin, and here, on this bed, in his lap, she’s allowed to hurt and show it. She’s allowed to hurt and allowed to hurt back. 

“I’m close,” she breathes out, bringing her arms up to grab his lungs with both hands. 

Artoria doesn’t like hurting people. Where fairies found entertainment in cruelty, she only found profound discomfort. But at the end of the day- Artoria is a sword, a weapon, and perhaps just as importantly, a repressed little rat who kept her every feeling under tight wraps. There is so much violence inside of her, and she doesn’t want to hurt people but she wants to tear things apart all the same, just bite and claw and blow everything to smithereen-

And Cu Alter lets her do it. Alter wants her to do it.

She rips his lungs clean off, and with a guttural sound, he leans down to devour her mouth. His mana floods her as he comes, fills her to the brink- and as Artoria brings blood-covered fingers to her clit, she follows right after him over the edge.

The both of them still, panting, calming their erratic heartbeats- or, well, Artoria does; Alter’s heart has long ended on the floor alongside her clothes.

That thought gets her to glance down at Alter’s chest cavity. Vivisecting him mid-sex had become commonplace to the two of them, but it’s the first time she’s been this thorough. She hadn’t realized earlier, lost in the throes of pleasure, but there are barely any organs left inside. She’s successfully carved an empty space in his chest and belly. It’s quite large. Maybe large enough to fit a person inside. Maybe she could just…

Alter does not even flinch when she ducks under his exposed ribcage, sliding right inside of him. “What are you doing?” He asks, in a mildly disinterested tone.

“I wanna see if I can fit inside.” And she can! She has to curl up, and it’s a bit tricky to find the correct position to fit her legs in, but… holy shit. She can fit inside of Cu Alter. 

He huffs, and though he no longer has lungs, she can feel the wall of flesh around her vibrate with his voice. “Is it comfy?”

It shouldn’t be. It’s cramped as hell. The whole place smells of blood. If she reaches up, she’s certain she can get her hand to come out of his mouth.

But… the flesh is surprisingly soft, caving just slightly under her weight. Alter’s ribcage would prevent her from falling off if he decided to get up and move around. And, strangely enough, Artoria feels… safe, in the skeleton of this great sea monster. In that small space carved of flesh and bones, it feels like nothing could ever get her again. This is her little fortress, a hiding place in plain sight, and with Alter as her guard dog she knows no one will be able to hurt her here. “Yeah. I could just take a nap here. You make for a good pillow.”

She expects him to fish her out of him, to gather his organs and shove them back inside himself, as usual. Instead, he feels him tilt backward to fall on his back- then sees his hand rise to rest on his stomach, as if to hide her from the world. “Feel free. I have nothing to do right now.”

“... For real?”

“You’re the third demon to nest inside my body. This is old news.” She feels his muscles move as he shrugs. “An armor is meant to be worn. Might as well be by you.”