#its time to expose the fully kings

[softavasilva]

need mike flanagan and simon barry to storm the building of netflix and drop the most detailed truth bombs and finish it off by flooding the room with the lesbian tears they've been collecting

[duckduckngoose]

I need to work on schoolwork but my brain came up with a kickass HC ab how immortality works in my mechs au

[dark-moonlust]

Orc King x Elf Princess PART 1: The union

Pairing: Orc monster x elf princess reader

Summary: the elven and orc kingdoms are at odds and in a desperate attempt to keep the peace, the elder rulers decide to marry you, an elf princess to the King of the Orcs.

Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, monster smut, virgin reader, dub consent, orc huge 🍆, buckets of come. Don’t like, don’t read please.

Find PART 2 here.

I hope you like how juicy it came out *wink, wink*.

It was no secret that the elven and orc kingdoms were at odds for centuries.

But lately, the shimmering tension was at its worst, the two races threatening to start a war.

In a desperate attempt to keep the peace, the two elder rulers of both lands decided on a political marriage to unite their kingdoms.

You, the only princess of the elves was chosen by your father to be the bride of the King of the Orcs.

The decision had stunned you, made you want to flee from the palace and seek a life away from politics. But no matter how much you craved to be free, no matter your dread and repulsion at the match, you decided to marry the orc King. You had your people to protect and as their princess you had a great burden to bear. You were willing to sacrifice your happiness for the greater good.

The day you met your orc husband would be forever seared in your mind. You met him at the wedding ceremony, he stood proudly in the grand hall, an imposing figure dressed in leather armor and a long black cape. A towering, brutish form. The Orc King was terrifyingly big, two heads taller than you. He was muscular all over, his green skin marred with scars and his mouth twisted into a sneer, revealing sharp teeth.

The wedding ceremony was grand, filled with cheers and hopes for the future for both kingdoms.

A chill of fear ran through you when the time came to bed your husband and seal the union. As you looked up at him, you met his eyes, dark and predatory. He grabbed your arm, his grip ironclad, lifted you over his shoulder and carried you to the royal chambers. You protested but he ignored your wild thrashing, and before you could gather yourself, he plopped you down the bed, his massive body pinning you in place.

His hands, huge and calloused from years of battle, roamed over your delicate body. “Pretty wife.”

“Hn… wait—I do not want this,” you said, trying to push him away, even if your strength was nothing compared to his.

“I understand this is a fate you dislike, but it is one you can’t escape.”

You grimaced at him. “You brutish orc. At least give me some time—”

“To escape?” he filled your sentence, his face hard.

“Never, I’d never risk the safety of my people.”

“Then stay here. In my bed. Be mine,” he growled, his voice deep and menacing. “My Queen to fuck and use over and over.”

“I’m not a piece of meat—mph!”

His mouth claimed yours, his tongue pushing past your parted lips, thrusting deep in your throat. You groaned when huge hands cupped your neck, keeping you in place to take his feral kiss. Your eyes started to roll back, chest heaving, gagging a little on the appendage long appendage shoved down your throat.

At the same time, you felt him tearing at your clothes. The satin fabric of your wedding dress was ripped and tossed away, your underwear following until you were fully exposed to him. You shivered and gasped when his tongue finally left your mouth. His eyes devoured your naked form and you felt goosebumps awakening under his gaze.

He was also naked, you noticed, the contrast between your bodies striking. You were small and soft, and he was hulking and muscled, his massive frame filled with scars. His green skin glistened in the dimly lit room, his eyes locked onto yours with a raw hunger that made your breath hitch. And between his legs… you closed your eyes. You didn’t want this thing inside you.

“Such pretty breasts,” he said roughly, his hands cupping both breasts and jutting them up in his mouth. He captured one pert nipple in the warmth of mouth and flicked it hard. You gasped, pushing him away but he turned to the other bud, giving it the same attention. The unwanted pleasure was too much, you hated him, oh you hated him, but his touch sent jolts of goosebumps through your body.

“Gentle…hmnn,” you bit your lip, struggling to stifle your reactions. “Be gentle.”

“If I’m be gentle, will you let me fuck you, my bride?”

“Hmmm…” you muttered, your treacherous pussy pooling with heat.

“Say it,” he said, finding your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin. “Say that you want me to fuck you.”

You grumbled. “Just do it.”

“Say it.” He looked at you straight in the eye.

“Fine! I want you to f-f-uck me,” you muttered incredulously.

Satisfied, he moved his massive hands down your body, clutched your knees and spread them apart. He slipped between them, his eyes drawn to your creamy thighs and the pretty glistening pussy with the plump folds. Rough fingers trailed over your mound and you whimpered, fear and arousal clouding your thoughts. He found your entrance, it was pooling with slick and he thrust a thick finger inside. The wet squelch echoed in your ears as that wicked finger delved deep inside until it met with resistance.

“Hnn—”

“Tight little cunny,” he said in a sultry voice, “my bride is a virgin. I am honored.”

With surprising gentleness, he changed your positions and flipped you to ride him, your face level with his groin. His cock jutted up in front of your face, a monstrous green shaft with veins traveling from base to the flared tip. The thing was huge, throbbing and pulsing with pre-cum and under it were the biggest balls you’d ever seen, swollen and angry red.

“Touch,” he ordered, thrusting his hips against your mouth.

Strangely attracted to his cock, you guided fingers to him, tracing the massive length of him. He was impossibly hard yet soft, thick and heavy in your hand. You cupped his hardness but your small hands couldn’t wrap entirely around him. But your orc husband seemed to like it because he let out a low, approving growl.

“Good. Now put me in your warm mouth. Use your little hands for what you can’t fit.”

You glanced back at him, enraged at his request. How dare he! His eyes flashed with challenge and cupping your nape, he turned your head and slammed you down onto his shaft. The throbbing head pushed past your lips, stretching them wide. You let out a sharp hiss and gurgled when the tip kissed the back of your throat.

“Suck me good, wife. I want my dick to glisten with your spit,” he said while he gripped your hips, pulling your cunt to his eager mouth. You protested but he jerked up his hips again, forcing you to take his cock deeper. You gagged, your lips stretched and filled with massive orc cock.

Gluck, gluck, gluck… the sounds of you sucking him echoed all over the chamber, along with his vibrating growls of approval. He taught you how to please him, pulling your head back enough for you to breathe before swallowing his dick down again, his thick shaft molding in your throat. Amidst slurps and moans around his dick, he cupped your ass and spread your cheeks apart.

How thumbs drew your pussy folds apart, exposing your little slit. “Pretty pussy.”

“Hmph—ple… glglhh… ease,” you tried to talk but his cock made it difficult.

“You are mine,” he said, lightly slapping your pussy. “My wife, my Queen, my mate to fuck and please. And I am yours. Your husband, your King, your mate to fuck and please.”

His words empowered you, made you worship his dick anew. He, in turn, feasted on your cunt, teasing your dripping folds with his mouth. You were more aroused than ever and he easily slid a finger inside you, stretching your walls and curling it just right. You whimpered around the girth of his orc cock. He added a second finger, a rough groan escaping him when he saw your cunt clenching tightly around it. His mouth found your clit, his agile tongue swirling round and round.

The sensations were too much that forced you to leave his cock and let out a hoarse cry.

You came, thrashing violently.

Clutching his hard cock with both hands, your fingers wrapping around it like a lifeline, you rocked your hips against his face and came wildly, explosively. But he didn’t stop. He kept going, his fingers thrusting deeper, his mouth working your clit shamelessly. Slurps and growls filled your ears as he devoured your pussy, lapping up your juices as if they were ambrosia.

Then the world around you tilted on its axis and you found yourself in his powerful arms. He held you against his chest, your legs spread on either side of his thighs. His panting chest rubbed against your breasts, his cock wet with your saliva and pulsing against your bellybutton.

“And now, Queen of mine, you shall take your King’s cock.”

Carefully, very carefully, he lifted you and lowered you down onto his cock, the flared head spreading your pussy lips and surging up your virgin entrance. You winched a little as he filled you, inch by delectable inch and you clutched him tighter against you, your breath hitching when he bottomed out.

He was inside you, his cock balls deep and it even made your stomach bulge. He seems fascinated at the sight of it.

No longer a virgin.

“Beautiful. My beautiful Queen,” he purred, kissing you passionately. “Made to take orc dick.“

“Mmph… m-more, please, ahhhh…"

Hands on your waist, he lifted you off his cock, his length coming out glistening with your juices and a trace of virgin blood. He growled, deeply and primitively and then thrust you down, his shaft disappearing inside you. He pounded you to the edge of ecstasy and you came hard around him, sweet climax rolling through you. Your contractions triggered his own release, and with a defeating roar, he spurted inside you, his cock pulsing so strongly that you came again with frantic aftershocks. Thick streams of cum filled you up, overflowing and trickling down your shaking thighs and making a mess.

You collapsed on his broad chest, feeling his solid warmth and inhaling his masculine scent. Your husband rubbed your spine, kissed your forehead and whispered praises about how good you were to him and how proud he was to have you as his Queen. You felt a glimmer of hope, but you were too tired to ponder over it so with a soft smile you fell asleep in his embrace.

Did you enjoy? Hit me up with your thoughts! Inbox is also open 🖤

[chaepink]

Requesting Sukuna getting off from being stepped on by mean!gn!reader 🥺

King of Curses? ha! | sub!sukuna ryomen

wc: 1.1k+ words | masterlist

dom!gn!reader, mean!reader, dick & ball stepping, degradation, hair pulling, mention of slapping, porn with no plot, footjob(?), ooc sukuna

note : this was going to be a drabble but i loved this idea sm

If you were told that you would have the King of Curses on his knees in front of you as you step on his dick, you would've laughed and think it was crazy. If anything, you would think that whoever told you was out of their mind. But when the very exact scenario is unfolding right this moment, you can't help but be glad it's happening.

You sneer at the man kneeling underneath you. Pushing your shoe harder against the bulge in his underwear, you watch as sukuna groans, his hands going to grab your leg but you swat them away.

"Don't touch me you fucking whore. I can't believe you're actually enjoying me stepping on you. Its fucking pathetic, really."

A small moan leaves him at your degrade and as you press your heels against where his balls are, sukuna's eyes roll to the back of his head and he lets out a groan. You grimace when you see pre cum seep through the fabric and onto your shoe. Great, now your shoe is ruined.

"Dont you dare cum without permission, sukuna." His breaths are labored as he stares up at you with hazy eyes and a red face. His clenched fists lay on his thighs, knowing that if he disobeyed your rules, you'll leave him right then and there for him to jack off by himself.

His bratty and cocky demeanor is long gone after only just some degradation and face slapping. A red hand print lays still visible on his cheek, the stinging reminding Sukuna of just exactly will happen if he's bratty. Now he's reduced to nothing short of a stupid dog, eager for any sort of pleasure.

With only his underwear left on him, Sukuna feels exposed to you, especially when you're fully clothed. The way there's already a wet stain on his underwear only adds to the shame he feels. Even if he tried to hide it, the bulge he has is painfully obvious to you. There's a cold breeze in the air and sukuna tries to hold back a shiver.

Mere moments before, all that was running through his head is how about how he, the God of Curses for fucks sake, was kneeling down to you, a mere human. You looking down on him is demeaning enough towards his pride and ego. Though he's not sure how he got into this position in the first place or how you even found him, it seems like the pleasure got to him and he feels too good to even care. After all, its been a while since someone has treated him like this and given him pleasure. The foreign feeling has his usual demeanor slipping away.

"And people think that the God of Curses would be the one in control in situations like these." You laugh, making sukuna flush an even deeper red. "Yet look at you here, kneeling in front of me, dick already hard and leaking as just from me stepping on you. You're enjoying this way more than I thought too. What a dirty mutt you are." You coo, grinning at him as he swallows at the dark look in your eyes.

"How about you thank me, hm? Since i'm being so nice to you for helping you get off." You raise a eyebrow at him, daring him to even question your order.

Instead, he stays silent and slowly leans against your thigh, rubbing his cheek against it. It seems like sukuna is too out of it to have heard what you said, only letting out a small whine at the close contact and the warmth of your body.

You quickly make him snap out of it by grabbing a fistful of his hair and forcefully yanking it back, pulling sukuna off your thigh and to stand on his knees. His face scrunches up in pain as his eyes shut, a pained whimper leaving him. His dick subconsciously twitches at the stinging, prickling sensation that's left on his scalp from your pull.

"Did you not hear me properly? I'll say it one more time for you, sukuna." You grind your shoe down on his dick and lean down until your face is right in front of his. Sukuna lets out breathy huffs. You narrow your eyes at him as he slowly opens his own, blinking slowly up at you with glassy eyes.

Fuck, the way you're glaring at him so intensely like that and how you're just so mean to him makes his orgasm approach faster than he thought. He would've never thought that he would be into this but the way his dick throbs every time you do something would prove him wrong if he said he didn't.

"Say 'thank you [name] for stepping on my dick.' You better say it like you mean it too or i'm leaving you here to fuck your own fist."

Sukuna quickly widens his eyes. No! You can't do that. You won't leave him to pathetically masturbate by himself, right? Though when he gazes into your eyes, he finds no sign that you're joking. Instead, you only narrow your eyes at him, your patience quickly thinning.

His pride and ego is on the line, of course he's not going to thank you for stepping on his dick! He never asked for this anyways. Thats what the thoughts in the back of his head is telling him to say but when he opens his mouth, the total opposite leaves instead.

"t-thank you [name for stepping on my dick." Sukuna swallows when you stay silent, deciding whether or not it was good enough.

Suddenly a grin appears on your face and he gets shoved onto the ground, making his hard dick slide out of his underwear and out for you to see. Your foot immediately goes back to step on his dick, making Sukuna let out a embarrassing loud moan, his back slightly arching off the ground.

Before you could degrade him again, you're surprised when cum suddenly shoots out of his dick and onto his chest. Some even makes it on his face, making the entire sight even more erotic. Sukuna lets out a whimper-like cry at the sudden feeling of his long awaited orgasm. But he soon realizes what he's done.

It seems like even he's surprised as he widens his eyes at you, not having expected to cum that quick. Disbelief is shown on your face and you furrow your eyebrows. Whether or not it was a accident, he came without your permission. And the thought of it makes him shiver at what you're going to do to him.

"are you really that pathetic that you came that quickly from me just stepping on you? and i thought you were supposed to be strong. turns out you're just a dirty whore that likes to be stepped on."

You lean forward, putting your weight onto your foot and effectively making him let out a choked groan at the overstimulation. The rough texture of the bottom of your shoe grinding against his dick quickly has it hardening embarrassingly quick. The look of disgust is on your face but a glimmer of something entirely else too, maybe its lust.

“i hope your ready, baby.” Your foot trails down his dick and press on his balls as you grin at him. “cause i've barely even started.”

ty for reading to the end! ❤ - chaepink

╰┈➤ masterlist | rules

[divinesolas]

the she-bear

summary: requested; during his time in winterfell the lady of house mormont arrives to pledge her loyalty to queen rhaenyra and jacaerys grows a little too close to the so called she-bear

jacaerys targaryen x mormont!fem!reader

w.c: 1.4k

c.w: widowed reader, reader has a child, older reader, virginity loss (jace), oral (fem), a little plot but a lot more smut, p in v, breeding kink?, not proofread

a.n: freaky anons had me thinking and i saw this request sitting with dust in my box so here you go!!

perm jace taglist ! (open) @tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @jacesvelaryons @earth4angels @itsemohours

During his time in Winterfell he did not expect to run into the lady of house mormont who pledged her loyalty to the queen rhaenyra and swore her forces would join cregans greybeards on the journey to kings landing. he was more than happy to accept her allegiance of course when asked why you had come and pledged you had said yourself that you were interested in seeing a women on the throne but nothing more.

The she-bear they called you. He grew to understand that title more and more he knew you you were stubborn, fierce and he had even heard rumors that you were a skinchanger and could become a bear but he disregarded these rumors even though it had been your younger sister spreading them. The more and more time he spent with you the more he grew to enjoy your presence. maybe a bit too much. He had heard about your previous marriage and then death of your late husband leaving you alone with a babe only a year old but you seemed to not mind and stated you had moved on past his death.

He began to crave your presence more and more when he was around you, he even had begun actively seeking you out instead of cregan as he was intended to do. He knew he was walking a fine line with you, the stolen glances, the lingering touches, he had been debating with himself to ask you for your hand knowing it was wrong, he would need his mother approval but it grew to the point he could not hold himself back.

He had been out flying, he had not known it would begin to ran a couple hours into his flight and he ended up landing at bear island where you had just returned and was offered a place to stay for the night until he was to fly back to Winterfell in the morning. He had been in the room you had provided him with, attempted to rid himself of his soaked riding clothes leaving him in just his tunic and his under pants a knock on the door startled him. He almost wanted to ignore it in his half dressed state until he heard your voice.

“I have an extra pair of clothes for you to rest in my prince.” he does not know what posses him to open the door fully but he enjoys the way your eyes leave his face and trail down his body with a light hum. He takes the clothes from your hands and sets them down on the table right next to the door, the two of you simply staring at each other for a few moments. You take the first willing step forward and he takes a step back, you take another one forward and lightly shut the door behind you.

The back and forth you two have been playing finally reaching its breaking point when you place your hands on the exposed skin of his neck and chest and he lets out a shaken breath. “We should not, i could never defile you like this.” as much as the words feel like venom on his tongue he finds himself speaking them anyway. He watches a small teasing pout form on your lips while you don't bother to remove your hands. “So you’re not interested in me?”

“You know very well i am my lady but we are not married,” despite his talking you look as though your not interested simply untying the strings on his tunic slowly as he breath quickened. he made no move to stop you. “Do you want to marry me my prince?” You pause right before the tunic falls all the way open. You finally look up at him and he finds his resolve crumble as he looks into your eyes. “Yes i do my lady.”

He expects you to kiss him or run your hands down along his now exposed chest but you simply walk past him and towards the fireplace where you throw another log in to keep it alit. “My lady?” You keep your back to him while you tug at a couple ties on your gown and he watches as it falls lightly to the ground and you kick it softly off the bear rug on the ground turning to face him he is unable to take his eyes off your bare body. “i am no longer a maiden but i hope i please you my prince.”

He moves like he is in a trance ridding himself of his tunic as he stands in front of you grabbing your sides gently with a shaky breath. “You more than please me my lady there is no one more beautiful than you.” You smile gently at him and lead him to sit down on the rug with you, the heat if the fire hits on his wet skin nicely as the two of you are pulled into a heated kiss. you fall on your back as the kiss grows more and more heated and his hands fondle your breasts as he leaves a wet trails down your neck.

“my prince.” “call me Jace please.”

He kisses down your stomach paying special attention to leaving loving kisses over your stretch marks on your stomach and thighs before he wraps your legs around his head as he begins to lick at your core. Your hands tug at his curls while your throw your head back and toes curl. The feeling of him prodding around inside of you has your hips grinding into his face while your press his head closer to you as if that was possible. He made no complaint while he listened to you moan. you soon enough release while a couple tugs of your clit and you calling out his name without a care in the world and he kisses back up your body while removing his bottoms leaving him bare above you.

You lightly tug at his plump lips with your own while you smile at him. “when did you learn how do to that?” “I read a couple books about it.” You laugh while he pauses and a flash of nerves crosses his face. When you grab his face gently he gulps, “I've never done this i um i don't,” he gasps when you sudden flip him over and you smile down at him. “Then let me lead, are you okay with it?” He face is flushed and the light of the fire hits him perfectly and he nods eagerly.

He lets out a shuddering moan when you begin to lower yourself onto him and he watches himself disappear into you. He sits up and the two of you hiss at the added friction, you give him a couple minutes to relax knowing this is his first time doing this sort of thing and he shouldn't be rushed. His head falls into your neck and sucks at the skin there while his hands grip your hips to try and get you to move. You understand him and while a light laugh you begin to softly move onto of him.

His whines grow louder and louder the faster you begin to move and your bodies rock together in sync while the room fills with your moans and skins hitting against each other. He knows why men murder to get to do this, why they throw themselves into dirty old brothels just to get a taste of this. Hes sure no other women can compare the way you do however, he wants to do this everyday he does not know how he had survived so long without doing this.

“want you to release in me Jace, want your babes Jace.” he whimpers and moves his hips up to meet yours and you gasp. He wants that, he wants to see you swell with his babe, his babe, a babe he knows is his, he will make sure its his when he watches as his seed drips out of you, keeping you locked in here until he's sure its taken root reputation be dammed. You tug at his bruised lips while you release and he follows quickly after keeping himself tightly presses inside you to make sure not even a drop spills out.

You brush his wet hair away from his face and press a light kiss against his lips. “You really want me to have your kids huh?” You expect him to argue or roll his eyes and but he contently nods and you can feel him swelling again inside you at your words which causes you to laugh.

[starofthesea7]

König~ Bitte (please)

(König cums too fast - pure filth)

König is a grunting mess beneath you, cheeks flushed deep red, eyebrows furrowed in ardent need. Brawny, scarred fingers grip threadbare cotton sheets, white knuckled— green eyes glossy with tears as he gazes down at you with fervour, pleas spilling from bitten lips. He’s in full tactical gear, fresh from the field, completely covered from your gaze, save for his bare crotch on full display between the zipper of his undone canvas pants.

He’s inexperienced- you could tell, even though he’d never murmured a word on the subject- it is laced thoroughly throughout his needy actions, the way his hips buck at the smallest touch you give his pale, rippling thighs, or how his heavy cock jumps when you praise him with sweet words. And there’s something so electrifying, having this beast of a man, in a killer’s uniform, writhing beneath you- it all goes straight to your head.

He is colossal. Infused with motor oil, brine and secondary cigarette smoke and the dirtiness of it- of him, cracks open the inviting door to even filthier actions.

His head is pressed harshly against the cool cement wall, damp hair curling around his brow. His mouth hangs agape— a glint of canine flashes in the dim light. His exposed his cock is tall and waiting eagerly for you and he’s embarrassed- you can tell by his flushed cheeks- embarrassed at how hard he is when you’ve barely even touched him- his engorged cock flushed deep purply red— glistening with a bead of pre spend at the sensitive head. Fuck.

His voice is rough and strangled, an honest attempt to string coherent thoughts together, “—ah, bitte, please...” He trails off, unsure of what he want’s you to do, all he knows is that he wants you.

You hold his gaze, vehemently, as you remove threadbare cotton in a swift motion, to revealing your naked frame to his widening eyes, you’re in nothing but a black thong and his glassy gaze is glued to your chest, he’s unable to tear it away, all gentile manners falling to perverse automatic action, he’s once more a teenager exploring his first playboy, struggling to take it in. Hair cascades around peaked nipples, and you’re a vision. He lets out a ragged breath at the soft swell of your breasts, truly questioning whether this was real- whether this was just another of his wet dreams and he’d wake up alone and have to shamefully clean sticky cum off himself. “You are…” he trails off on a ragged cliff, as if no known, spoken word could describe you, and the thought makes your heart swell against your ribs.

There’s a push and pull in him, you can feel it. Part of him instinctively wants to take control, have you his way, throw your body over the desk and ravage you- you both know that physically he can do whatever the fuck he wants with you. But something in him keeps him sat, under your control. He’s dying to do as you say, to follow your lead. The king has surrendered, and you are his unexpected successor.

Your hips bulge as your legs spread wide to fit over his massive thighs. Sinewy muscle tenses under you and the sight of his cock just waiting there for you makes your stomach clench. He’s staring at your crotch, at the small patch of wet fabric and the way it clings to the outline of your puffy cunt. There’s something pornographic about the way he’s fully dressed in tactical gear, complete with steel toed boots and dirty canvas pants, and you mount him bare, save for a sopping thong. Your airy, sultry voice cuts through thick, sweaty air, “Has it been a long time, König?” You’re being a bit patronizing, frankly, but you can tell he likes it, or he wouldn’t be this hard- pre-spend oozing out of his swollen slit.

His eyes rise to yours, and his pupils are blown wide, his voice breathless, “Ja-fuck-yes Maus, been so long. Please, touch me.” Your soft hands find his lower belly and its taught and veiny, skin scorching, you trace his abs, over his whisper of a happy trail, and you feel his muscles tense beneath your fingers, littered with scars. Your softness melts into his roughness and you’re pulled into him as if he possesses his own gravitational force. You gather his pre-spend from his stomach on two fingers and he watches with bated breath as you raise them to your lips, you take them deep, and the poor man doesn’t know what to do with him self. He’s briny and bitter and you want to force the taste further down your throat. A pathetic sound leaves his mouth, and it makes your stomach flop.

You rise up slide your thong to the side, exposing your cunt and he’s eager to position himself for you. Ready to bend to your every need, all he wants to be is good for you. You feel your stomach clench in anticipation as you are struck again with how thick he is- the thought of him stretching you out makes you thrum with anticipation. You’re sopping, and he’s dribbling from the tip— cock sliding deliciously easy, against the seam of you, right up against the choking split. Your fingers find locks of his hair and you ground yourself in him, as he catches harshly on the edge of your hole, right against your clit and pleasure shoots through your body. You’re both so sleep and touch deprived and that just makes you all the more fervid. You’re embarrassed at how fucked out you must look, but his head is thrown back and he’s almost drooling and you can’t look more desperate than him.

You run his mushroom head over the split again, and he’s unable to contain himself, softly bucking his hips into you, and when he finally breaches your hole, spliting you wide for him you let out a sharp sound, fingers harshly grabbing fistfuls of his hair. He sobs, voice ripping through his hoarse throat, “Ah-ah! Maus, fuck you’re so hot inside so… small.” It’s really he that’s large but you don’t bother correcting him. You tighten your fingers, fisting his hair, surely hard enough to hurt, as you inch yourself lower onto him. His fingers find the fat of your ass and hes pulling your cheeks apart, marks sure to bloom purple and blue later. His hand finds the waistband of your thong and he’s pulling it, overstimulation forcing him to action, the feeling of it dragging against your clit makes you keel. You hear the fabric rip, and he’s murmuring a slew of apologies. “Ah- I’m sorry maus-” You kiss his cheek sloppily in forgiveness. Salty and warm- stubble brash against your lips.

You pull back and his eyes drop to your little cunt, swollen lips stretching out around him and he’s in awe that you can take him so well. He’s definitely bigger than anyone you’ve been with before, but you can tell he doesn’t understand the extent of his size, and now is not the time to boost his ego, so you bite your lip and when your skin finally meets the cold metal of his zipper and he’s fully inside you sit there for a beat to adjust. Hes pulsing deep inside you and you can fucking see the outline of the head of his cock protruding from your belly, just below your bellybutton.

And when you point it out to him with a sickly sweet voice, “See you, so deep inside me König?”

He grunts, “Fuck me,” having to tear his eyes away a second later to keep from orgasming right then and there.

You begin to softly bounce your body above him, you tell yourself it’s to go easy on him, but truly you don’t think you could do move more with how deep he goes. Cold metal of his zipper harshly grazes your soft skin. Your breasts bounce with every movement and he pulls you into him, groaning into your shoulder, and sharp canines nick your flesh. Your grip in his hair mirrors your clench around him, painfully tight.

You speed up, slapping of skin fills the room, your flesh bubbles between his iron fingers and he’s whimpering into your ear, before you feel him twitch inside you. His eyes go wide and he’s suddenly blurting out, “Im sorry, I’m so sorry-ah, fuck.” His hips are bucking up into you faster, you feel them stutter, and his mouth falls open to softly bite your shoulder. His cock twitches, mushroom head notching somewhere deep inside you— and you can feel it in your stomach. He shudders all over, his huge form shaking with the strength of his orgasm, and then he blushes deep crimson. “I’m- A-ah,” Cum spurts out fitfully, and you feel it, hot and thick, filling your guts, and you can’t help but whimper into his hair at the feeling.

Warm pressure blooms in your belly. His deep raspy breaths grate against cold stillness.

Tears are brimming in his glassy eyes when he raises his head, damp curls falling across his forehead. Your cunt clenches at the sight and you redden at the obscene squelch it makes. He swallows hoarsely, “I’m so sorry. I wanted to…I couldn’t— you just felt so good—”

Another open mouthed kiss to his cheek makes him let out a soft puff of captive air.

“‘S okay König.” Your eyes sparkle, voice soft. “I can sit on your face, and you can make me cum then, yeah?” You smile coyly, as his eyes widen, cheeks flushing once more.

[eldritchwh0rror]

🆅 🅴 🆂 🆂 🅴 🅻

pairing: True Form Sukuna x Reader

content / warnings: 18+, MDNI, !afab reader, !true form Sukuna, !submissive reader, !dominant Sukuna, general monster fuckery, size difference / size kink, degradation (Sukuna is meaaaan), (forced) intoxication, elements of non-con, asphyxiation, breath play, choking, hair pulling, spit / spitting, blood / blood play, thigh riding, throat fucking, cunnilingus, analingus, PiV, PiA, double penetration, rough sex, breeding kink, unprotected sex

synopsis: News that the King of Curses was seeking a new concubine had spread throughout the kingdom and even you couldn’t resist the temptation of finding out if the rumours were true.

word count: 6.1k

a/n: So... this is my first time writing in a long while and I'm pretty happy with how this came out - it is remarkably depraved. I hope you have just as much fun reading this as I did writing it! Any feedback would be greatly appreciated <3

You had sought a private audience with the King of Curses, and a private audience you were granted. Whilst you were thankful for the opportunity, you could never have anticipated the position you now found yourself in. If anyone were to enter the grand chamber, they would be faced with an outrageously sinful scene, one enough to make even the devil blush - had it not been the devil himself orchestrating things, of course. 

Ryomen Sukuna relaxed atop his throne, his broad upper arms crossed above his head with the lower set reaching down to anchor your trembling form in place. He had you straddling one of his thighs, your own thighs spread achingly wide to accommodate him, with your core flush against him. His grip was like a vice on your hips, jagged nails threatening to pierce the delicate skin barely covered by what tatters remained of your robe. Your far inferior size and strength made it pointless to even entertain the idea of trying to wiggle out of his grasp, so there you stayed.

Sukuna rocked your hips against him at an almost maddening pace, d r a g g i n g your cunt relentlessly against his leg over and over and over and…

“P-Please.” The word passed your lips as nothing more than a breathy whimper, but the desperation it carried seemed to echo throughout the throne room. 

“What was that, brat?” The Disgraced One chuckled harshly, a low rumble rising from his chest. “You will speak clearly when addressing me.”

“I, hnghh, wan’-” 

Smack!

Sukuna’s large hands had left their resting place behind his head, coming down to strike your ass - hard. The sound of the impact reverberates throughout the chamber, harmonising with your pained cry to form a sickening crescendo. The pain itself was instant, manifesting as a raw heat which tore through you to ignite each nerve in its path and set your body ablaze. Despite your almost palpable fear, your body had betrayed you. You were wet - soaking wet, in fact - your juices dripping from your cunt, rolling down Sukuna’s leg and pooling on the cold throne below. It was embarrassing, really.

“I said, speak clearly!” You feel his hot breath on your cheek as he practically growls the words in your ear. The sensation from the impact begins to subside as Sukuna kneads your cheeks, spreading them apart to expose you so obscenely. “Oh! Oh, I see.” Now aware of the mess you had created, he smirks. “Does this little brat want more from their King, hm?”

Despite his question, Sukuna didn't need a verbal response from you. Tellingly, your eyes trailed down his torso to focus on the throbbing bulge scarcely concealed by his robe.

“Please, m-my Lord, I need-”

“You don't need anything, mortal,” he hisses through gritted teeth. One hand snakes its way up your back to settle at the base of your skull, long fingers tangling in your hair, whilst the others move to continue the brutal grind of your hips. Sukuna manipulates your head backwards with a rough tug of your hair, fully exposing your neck to him. “As your Lord, if I tell you that you no longer need to breathe - that you no longer need to live - I would expect you to believe as such and act in accordance.”  Hovering over your jugular as he speaks, he punctuates his sentence by clamping down, the tips of his sharp canines penetrating the flesh with an excruciating sting. A deep groan escapes his throat as your scream rings in his ears. Humming against your skin, he drags his forked tongue languidly over the wound, his saliva mingling with the blood and slowly trickling down your neck.

You raise a shaky hand from its place on Sukuna’s chest up to your neck protectively, pushing his head away to assess the injury with your fingertips. “M-my Lord, y-you… bit me?” 

“It was necessary.” He nods to himself. “My saliva has properties similar to your human opium, you see. You will soon find yourself in a more… relaxed… state.” Sukuna flashes you a wry grin, his teeth stained with your blood. 

Panicked, your hands return to Sukuna’s chest to push yourself away from the curse.

“Now, now, y/n! Let’s just give it a moment to take, shall we? After all, you were the one who wanted to copulate with me, correct?” He shrugs. “I’m doing you a kindness.”

Your protests grow weaker as the seconds pass, firm shoves turning to dismal attempts at freedom. Sukuna’s cruel laugh echoes in your ears as your body fails you. 

_________________________________________

Disoriented and dazed, you wake from your drug-induced sleep to find yourself in an unfamiliar environment. As your eyes adjust to the dim candlelight of the bedchamber, you examine your surroundings. Laid atop a grandiose four-poster bed, lavish satin sheets were draped over your body and plush feather pillows supported your head. A rich and heady incense was burning somewhere, distributing thick plumes of its smoke into the air. It was the epitome of luxury and far from the servant’s quarters you were accustomed to. Was this Sukuna’s--? No, surely not! 

“Ah, you’re finally awake.” 

The voice startles you, tearing you from your thoughts, and your eyes dart around the room to find its source. Sukuna occupied a place in the far corner of the chamber, sprawling his large form across an armchair upholstered with fabric the same rouge as the sheets hugging your body. His features were illuminated so wickedly by the candlelight, shadows exaggerating the sharp contours of his face and exposed torso. He was such a beautiful monster. The sight alone was almost enough to make you forget all of the heinous crimes your Master had committed over the centuries - almost. 

“You were out for much longer than I anticipated you would be, y/n. I nearly readied Uraume to have you disposed of.” Sukuna shrugs his broad shoulders nonchalantly, running a hand through his hair to slick back a few stray stands. “It seems my essence is particularly potent for you. I’ve not known anyone to have such a dramatic reaction - unconsciousness is certainly a first. You humans really are so amusing!” He laughs dryly, rising from the chair slowly to stalk across the room towards the bed - towards you - a hunter closing the distance between his prey.

“What was the point?” You scoff, clutching the sheets against your chest in an attempt to shield yourself from his predatory four-eyed stare. “As you said, I wanted this. You didn’t have to drug me to get me in your bed. I would have gone willingly, my Lord.” you admit, lowering your head to hide your shame. 

“Hah! Such a bratty mouth on this one!” He reaches down to your face, his thumb and forefinger gripping your chin firmly, craning your neck so that your eyes meet his gaze. Another pair of hands grab at your forearms, throwing them down to your sides and moving swiftly to cup your now-exposed breasts. “As I said, if we are to copulate, then it is necessary. Your puny mortal body could not withstand me, no matter how much you claim to want it, without the effects of the solution.” As he continues to explain, he pinches your nipples and toys with the supple flesh of your breasts, earning the occasional yelp from you. “My saliva contains my essence, you see, and soon you won’t be able to resist it. It exerts properties similar to opiates, including muscle relaxation and euphoria. It was not intended to render you unconscious, only prepare you for what is to come.” 

Your cheeks flush as Sukuna words register with you. “Oh.”

“Oh, indeed!” He grins. “Now… Say ‘ah’!” 

The curse’s thumb moves with haste from your chin to your mouth, sparing a moment to trace the outline of your lips before forcefully parting them. He hooks your lower jaw, applying pressure to prise open your mouth for him. A sneer spreads wide across his face and his crimson eyes burn into yours as he spits once, twice, onto your unsuspecting tongue. He spits once more for good measure, this time deliberately missing to paint your lips and chin with his saliva. In the same instant, before you have a chance to protest, he withdraws his thumb and clamps your jaw shut with the brisk upward motion of his open palm. Leaving your breasts, a second hand reaches to pinch your nostrils closed and a third moves to cover your mouth. 

“Now, be a good pet and swallow for me, won’t you? Either that or die, I don’t care.” As he speaks, his free fourth hand caresses your cheek in a way which causes you to shudder in reaction. The touch was a complete juxtaposition to the words he hissed and the powerful position his other hands had taken - it was nothing more than a gentle graze sweeping down the left side of your face.  

You swallow hard, blinking away the tears forming as you struggle for your breath. Though you were expecting relief, Sukuna does not relinquish his grasp when you obey. Instead, he tightens it and uses the hold to manoeuvre you both further onto the bed. As he looms above you, your nails claw at his hands in a desperate attempt to remove them and take your breath back. Only once he had you positioned as he wished, pinned between his body and the headboard, did he allow your lungs the luxury of oxygen. You sputter as he withdraws and your breath returns to you in ragged huffs, your lungs burning at the sudden influx of air. 

Not wasting any further time, Sukuna swipes a clawed finger across your collarbone, causing a steady stream of blood to flow down your chest and drip off of your nipples to stain the sheets below. Sukuna laps up the blood greedily, already addicted to your sweet metallic taste, depositing more of the toxin into your bloodstream in the hopes of its effects taking hold quicker. 

Since the first exposure, your body seemed to have adjusted to Sukuna’s poison and you were already forming somewhat of a tolerance to it. With your body no longer wanting to shut down as a response, you feel more alive than ever. A strong euphoria courses through your veins as the substance electrifies every cell it infiltrates. 

With your pupils blown wide, you gaze up at the Disgraced One. Your yearning eyes study the handsome features of his face, pausing to focus on the strong arch of his lips. The drug had taken its effect and it was clear that you wanted - needed - more, a pout forming as you silently pleaded with the King of Curses. You tilt your head to rest against the headboard and Sukuna chases you back, his lips colliding with yours in a painfully lustful kiss. He snakes his forked tongue past your lips, angling your chin upwards with a bruising grip so that he can access more of your mouth. His tongue duels with yours, alternating between languid, sloppy licks and rough prods which are rewarded with your breathy moans into his open mouth. Maintaining the kiss, his upper arms move to pin your hands above your head whilst the lower set pulls you further down the bed, spreading your legs apart to better accommodate his size before resting either side of you to support his weight. 

So entranced by the kiss, at first you don’t realise when his second mouth, located just above his navel, awakens. Its tongue slithers out to pepper your stomach with wet licks and kisses, the pace matching that of the lip-lock above. You jolt at the unfamiliar sensation. Despite being caught off guard by Sukuna’s unique anatomy, you can’t help the whimper which falls from your mouth as you melt further into the demon, arching your back to raise your core up to him. Your hips instinctively begin circling as your lust deepens, thighs squeezing together to generate some of the friction you craved undeniably. 

“Feeling needy, are we?” His voice is low and husky against your lips. “Too bad.” He retreats from you abruptly, leaning back on his knees to observe as you begin to come undone, finally succumbing to him. 

“P-please, Sukuna,” you moan, honorifics forgotten as desire clouds your mind.

“Hah! That’s bold! My name does not belong on your tongue, brat.” He pauses, raising a hand to his jaw, the corner of his mouth curling upward into an lascivious smirk. “Though, I can think of at least two things which do.”

With that, he pushes himself off from the bed and stands to loosen the belt of his robe. The silk garment drops to the floor to reveal two handsome cocks standing erect and throbbing with need. One was situated an inch or so above the other and each boasted at least 10 inches. Both shafts were decorated with Sukuna’s signature tattooed bands. Their girth was unmatched and unlike anything you’d ever previously encountered. Fear was the first emotion evoked, followed closely by pure admiration, and your pussy clenches reflexively at the thought of its impending abuse. Your jaw slackens and your eyes widen to fully comprehend the image of Sukuna basking in the candleglow before you, his muscles rippling with each slight movement made. He was magnificent. 

Holding your gaze with his, he trails a hand down his torso, continuing lower to wrap his hand around and squeeze the base of his uppermost dick. He drags his white-knuckled grasp slowly along the shaft, precum leaking and falling from the tip to coat the cock below. After a few steady pumps of his fist, he brushes his thumb over the weeping tip to gather as much of the slick as possible, using it as lubricant to stroke each of his cocks in turn. His head lulls backwards as he begins to lose himself to the rising pleasure, his teeth tugging at his bottom lip to trap the groan emerging from his throat. 

Regaining control, his head snaps forwards, his eyes burning into yours.

“Now do you understand?” 

It was more of a warning than a question and all you could do was nod your head in response, bewitched by the show he was putting on for you.

Snapping you out of your trance, Sukuna raises two fingers and gestures to you in a come hither motion. “Crawl for me.” 

You move quickly to obey the command, crawling across the bed to the edge where you settle on your knees in front of your King. Though sat fully upright, you found yourself having to stretch further to be level with Sukuna’s hips. From your position below him, you glance upwards as you present him your tongue, eyes laden with lust and cheeks flushed. He recognises the offering, slowly dragging the tip of his lower cock across your flattened tongue and allowing the upper to rest against your face. One of Sukuna’s hands cradles the base of your skull and another guides his cock further into your mouth, whilst your own hands brace against his hips. You wrap your lips around his tip, applying a firm pressure as you begin to suck. Sukuna lets out a low hiss as you swirl your tongue around his tip, allowing yourself to taste the precum gathering there. With interlocking fingers, you clasp your hands around his cock, needing both to fully encircle his girth. You glide your palms along his shaft as an extension of your mouth with the excess saliva drooling from your lips acting as a lubricant. It was messy and it was hot.

Your hands and mouth work tirelessly to pleasure Sukuna but despite your best efforts, the King of Curses was getting impatient. He swats your hands away from his dick and shoves himself further into your mouth, pressing until his tip is met with resistance at the back of your throat. He makes small, quick circles with his hips, repeatedly prodding the back of your throat with his cock. You gag at each of his movements, coughing and sputtering in response to the invasion in an attempt to expel it. The lewd sounds spilling out of you only act to spur him on and Sukuna begins to buck wildly, pushing past the fluttering rings of muscle to fuck your throat relentlessly, each of his thrusts accompanied by a deep grunt. 

You are spared a moment to collect yourself as he withdraws from your throat, though your relief is short-lived. As the first cock leaves your mouth, Sukuna’s second cock immediately takes its place - ramming into your throat and almost bottoming out in one harsh thrust. Allowing no time for you to adjust, he continues to fuck your face, switching between each of his dicks at a frenzied tempo as he chases his high.

Tears which had collected finally spilled, rolling down your cheeks as you choke around him, your throat unable to tolerate the abuse. In an attempt to lessen the havoc being unleashed, you clench your jaw, forcing him to slow his movements.

In response to the act of defiance, Sukunas fingers twist in your hair, pulling your head away and ripping his cock from its position in your throat. With the same grip, he lifts you from your knees to bring your face up to his, your body dangling above the bed. “You ungrateful bitch!” He strikes your cheek with the back of his hand to emphasise the insult, his lower lip drooping to form a mocking pout. “I grace your mouth with my cocks and this is what I get, hm? Such a disappointment!”

Between ragged breaths, you plead with him - “Ss-sorry... I c-can’t-” 

“What’s that, brat? Oh, you can’t take any more?!” A sneer contorts Sukuna’s face and he tosses you onto the bed below as if you were nothing more than a discarded toy. “But we were only just getting started!”

You scramble to regain your composure, shifting into a position to easily flee the bedchamber. “I am sorry, my Lord. Please spare me.” You bow your head deeply in reverence, in the hopes that it won’t be separated from your shoulders. “I don’t intend to occupy any more of your time, my Lord. Please, dismiss me and I shall return to my usual duties.”

“Dismiss you? Hah!” Sukuna chortles and reaches a hand up to soothe his furrowed brow, pondering his next words. “Your duties can wait. At present, I have a much better use for you. You see, with the sorcerers of the modern age closing in, I must act quickly.”

“I’m sorry, Master, but I don’t follow.” 

“As a means to preserve my bloodline and my image, you will provide me with an heir.”

“W-what?” Your jaw drops in awe at his statement, the intoxicant previously clouding your judgement beginning to fade from your system.

“Do not make me repeat myself, mortal.” He warns, his expression hardening. 

“You-- I can’t! It’s not possible!” You panic, shaking your head violently in protest of his crude instruction as logic returns to you. “Why - why me?”

“Shhh, y/n.” Recognising your ebbing compliance, Sukuna coos manipulatively and caresses the side of your face in an attempt to calm you. Guiding you to lay back on the bed, he cages you underneath him. “This will work. We are compatible.” A dark mischief flashes in his eyes and he chuckles to himself - “Think of it as a promotion!” 

Pressing his mouth firmly to yours, he shoves his tongue past your resistant lips. Despite your initial repulsion to the kiss, your logical mind retreats once again as the endorphins rush in and force you back into a more pliable mindset. 

Sukuna’s lips leave yours to plant a bruising trail of kisses down your neck. He pauses when he reaches your collarbone, sucking along the wound he had made earlier. “Your scent, your taste - it’s intoxicating, y/n. The very moment you presented yourself to me, I knew I had to have you. I knew that I had to make you mine.” The King’s words are snarled against the crook of your neck in a deep baritone, raising goosebumps and causing you to tremble in exchange. Moving further down your body, the kisses transition into painful bites with bloodied indentations of the curse’s teeth left in your skin to serve as a reminder of his route. Forcing your legs open, he leans his head against your thigh to admire the view of your pussy, swollen and glistening with need.

“I am going to devour you, my dear.” 

Peppering kisses and nibbling along the inside of your thighs, Sukuna leans in closer for a taste of you. He drags his forked tongue along your cunt, licking a long stripe from the bottom to the top. Your lips form a lustful little “oh” as a breathy moan leaves you in response to his actions. He repeats this motion - this time parting your folds with his tongue, darting between them to tease your clit with a quick swipe. The stimulation causes your hips to jolt away from him involuntarily which displeases the King. To keep you from further escaping his mouth, Sukuna moves two arms to press your body down into the mattress and hold you firmly in place. Preventing you from closing your legs and depriving him of his nourishment, he pushes your knees apart with his elbows, keeping them there to pin your legs uncomfortably wide as he continues his meal. He proceeds to alternate between lapping up the entire length of your pussy and slipping between your labia to prod at your already sensitive clit. Sensing your pleasure building quickly, the tips of his tongue now move independently to each torment the bundle of nerves and drive you closer towards the edge. Moving a hand to work alongside his mouth, Sukuna presses a digit against your entrance, working it in small circles and spitting on your hole before sliding it inside you. After allowing you a moment to adjust - albeit barely - to the new sensation, Sukuna plunges another finger into you, curling his fingers upwards to repeatedly stroke your G-spot as his mouth continues to ravage your clit. 

“Ohh, f-fuck!” You find yourself driven into a carnal frenzy, bucking and grinding your hips in time with the curse’s movements to obtain your release. 

“That’s it, brat. Fuck yourself on my fingers.” 

With that, his lips return to your cunt to resume their brutal feast and the mounting tension finally snaps. You cry out your Lord’s name as you cum, your fingers wound tightly in his hair as you ride the waves of pleasure. You continue to grind yourself against his tongue and fingers until the orgasm dissipates. 

“Mmm. Just as I thought - you are delicious.” Sukuna lifts his head from between your legs, tongue lolling out to clean up the remnants of your arousal dripping from his chin. “Want a taste?” 

After you nod your reply down to him, Sukuna stretches a hand up to your mouth from his position below to trace your lips with his sodden fingers. Maintaining eye contact with the demon between your legs, you part your lips to accept his digits willingly, tongue lapping at his calloused pads to savour yourself.

“You’re being so compliant, look at you,” he praises as you eagerly suck his fingers clean. “I think you might just be ready for me.” 

Departing from your cunt with a chaste kiss, Sukuna scales your body to mount you. His four hands roam your flesh with a ravenous need, nails leaving a trail of bloodied crescents in their wake. His lower arms scoop underneath you to cradle your waist as he lifts your lower half from the mattress. The disparity between the positions of your upper and lower body causes your torso to contort painfully - not that he cared, of course. As long as Sukuna had full access to your sweetest spots and could fully drain his seed into you, nothing else mattered. 

Hunched over you, with two of his hands planted against the headboard, the King of Curses manipulates you into a tight mating press, practically folding you in half underneath him. His free hands had captured your wrists, planting them firmly either side of your head to both ensnare you further beneath him and to support his weight. 

You were completely at his mercy - and the great Ryomen Sukuna was not known for being merciful.

“I am going to enjoy this.”

With your hips aligned with his and his forehead coming down to press against yours, you sense something hot and wet unfurling between your legs. You let out a whimper, quivering in anticipation as Sukuna’s abdominal tongue rises and falls at your core, panting with need against your pussy. Slowly, so agonisingly slowly, the tongue licks the length of your cunt with the pressure increasing as it travels towards your clit. Moving without thought, your mind dripping with desire, you buck your hips in an attempt to press yourself harder against Sukuna’s tongue and claim your pleasure. Working itself between your folds as you grind feverishly against it, it slathers you with more of Sukuna’s sedative and works to prepare you for the oncoming intercourse. It clears away the remaining evidence of your previous orgasm in short, desperate licks. Each brush of the tongue against your sensitive bud earns an array of profanities and moans from you in equal measure.

Sukuna’s eyes burrow into yours as the tongue travels downwards, past your quivering pussy, to delve between your asscheeks and make its first contact with your anus. Much to Sukuna’s amusement, you jolt at the unexpected sensation and move to try and protect your dignity. 

“My dear,” he drawls as he pins your knees back into place. A wicked smile graces his face, perversity flickering in his crimson gaze as he stares down at you. “Did you already forget that I promised I would devour you, brat? I think we are long past the point of modesty, hmm? I never did care much for it anyway.” 

As he speaks, the tongue saturates your hole with more of Sukuna’s potency. Your body slowly moulds into his as you begin to relax and the endorphins take control. The pressure against your entrance increases and Sukuna’s tongue pushes inside with a lewd squelch, moving past any remaining resistance with ease thanks to the saliva’s relaxant effects. It was unlike anything you had felt previously and, although you were ashamed to admit it, it excited you. A pleasured moan drops from your lips which is met with a satisfied grunt from Sukuna as he continues to explore you. His second tongue moves in quick thrusts to fuck your hole and Sukuna kisses you hard - passionately, even. He kisses you with such an urgency it causes you to gasp into his open mouth. With coordination long forgotten as his lust deepens, his teeth clash against yours and your tongues tangle with each other in a sloppy dance. It doesn’t take long before you are faltering to his hungry mouths and falling apart once again. His arms tighten around your waist, steadying you as he guides you through your climax. Your empty cunt flutters as your orgasm surges through you, clenching at nothing as your sweet juices leak out to coat Sukuna’s abdomen.

Shifting his grip on your wrists to encircle both of them with one hand, he reaches down with the other to line his lower cock up with your entrance. Using the bliss from your ongoing climax to distract from the pain bound to accompany his size, Sukuna wastes no time in pushing his bulbous tip past the first ring of resistance and into your cunt. As he enters you, his upper cock nestles itself between your pussylips, laying there to throb against your clit. 

“Fffuuuck,” he rasps through gritted teeth, shuddering at the intensity as he penetrates you for the first time.

“Please, hnngh, it’s t-too much,” you whine. Though only Sukuna’s tip had entered you thus far, it felt as if you were being split apart. Pain and pleasure mingle confusedly together as the curse continues to navigate deeper inside you with no regard for your protests.

“Quiet,” he snarls. His tone turns to one of mocking: “I’m not even halfway in yet and it’s already too much for you to handle, slut? Hah, how pathetic!”

With the pressure and stretch increasing to an almost intolerable level, you thrash about underneath your King in an effort to lessen the ache, only worsening things for yourself in the process. 

“Quit moving, brat!” A hand wraps itself around your throat as a silent warning, a firm pressure being applied to your windpipe. He cocks his head to one side menacingly as he sneers down at you. “Or do you want me to give you something to really complain about, hm?”

You halt your movements in obedience, submitting to him. 

“There’s a good slut!”

Sukuna thrusts into you with sharp, shallow movements of his hips, each thrust more confident than the last, to bury his first cock inside of you. At this angle, as he slides himself into you, the dick pressed between your folds twitches against and prods at your sensitive bud. The pleasure generated is enough for you to persevere through the agony and please your King. Sinking deeper, Sukuna’s eyes widen with fascination as he watches the tattooed bands adorning his shaft disappear as your pussy bows and adjusts to swallow his length. Sukuna continues to press until his pelvis is flush against yours and his heavy balls are pressed against the fat of your ass. 

“Ooh f-fuuck, S-Sukuna-” It’s all you can manage as his tip plants a bruising kiss on your cervix, the sting causing your breath to hitch in your throat. 

Sukuna chuckles at the remark as he reels his hips back, dragging his thick cock along your tight walls until it is almost fully unsheathed from you. Although you were grateful that the stretch was somewhat alleviated, you found yourself immediately pining for the sensation of being full with your King once more. As if in agreement, your pussy flutters around him to try and drag him back further inside you. 

“P-please, ‘Kuna… Please fu--”

Sukuna slams back into you before you can even finish your request, pushing past the convulsing rings of muscle to fully seat himself inside. Bottoming out, his toned pelvis crashes against your own as he impales you on the full length of his cock. He takes a moment to admire your beauty as you writhe underneath him.

“You’re such a mess, my dear. If only you could see yourself as I see you now.” 

With that, he sets his brutal pace. He fucks you into the mattress relentlessly, his hand still clasped around your throat whilst holding his weight over you to maintain the cruel mating press. The chamber air grows heady, filled with the lewd sounds of sweat-soaked skin slapping, Sukuna’s guttural grunting and your unabashed yelps of pleasure. 

The curse’s merciless pace eventually begins to wane, his momentum faltering and his thrusts growing sloppier as he approaches the cusp of his climax. Realising and refusing to be bested after a meagre few minutes, he takes a moment to regain his composure. Sukuna withdraws from you in order to force down his orgasm and you are spared from the back-breaking position. You shift into a comfier position, leaning back on your elbows to see Sukuna leant back on his knees. Two of his hands were planted on his thighs, one crossed over his broad chest and the other moved to swipe away the beads of sweat forming on his forehead. 

“My, my, y/n. You really are perfect for me, aren’t you?” Sweeping back the strands of hair which had fallen over his eyes, he continues. “The way your tight cunt clenches around me is just… heavenly.” 

Flipping you over onto your front, his arms snake around your waist to lift you up and place you back down on your hands and knees. With his grip still present on your waist, he pulls your body closer to his so that his cocks are pressed against your slit from behind, twitching wildly with need. Rutting his hips like a beast in heat, he positions his lower cock to delve between your pussylips and the upper to move between your asscheeks to rub against each of your holes. He continues this until nothing but whimpers and almost incomprehensible begging for more leave you. Only then, when he deems you needy enough - undeniably cock-drunk, does he re-enter you. 

He stuffs his dick back inside your cunt and resumes the same maddening thrusts as before, as if he had never stopped. Sukuna's second cock drags itself along your ass, nestled between your cheeks, as he relentlessly drives into you from behind. Precum leaks from the upper cock’s tip in a steady stream to coat your rim, dripping lower to provide more lubrication for Sukuna’s assault on your pussy.

"N-no," you shake your head in protest, looking back over your shoulder, as you feel pressure against your hole. Sukuna’s second cock now sat poised at your entrance, threatening to plunge in. "You can't!"

His thrusts stop momentarily and he hunches over you, his chest pressing into your back. His voice was low and dangerous in your ear.  "I can and I will, y/n. You are merely a plaything for me, a vessel for my heir, and I will use you as I please. Do not challenge me again." 

Following his words, his hips ram into you violently, his second cock forcing its way into your tight hole to join the other already inside you, separated only by a thin wall. A strangled moan, tainted with both pleasure and pain, is ripped from your throat at the abrupt invasion. Your eyes roll backwards into your skull and your mouth hangs open in a fucked out little "oh" as your body begins to adjust. You were so full - full of your King - and the stretch was so sinful it was almost divine. This was true devotion to Sukuna and he recognised this with appropriate praise. 

"Look at you, taking both of my cocks so damn well! Quite frankly, I don't know whether I should be proud or disgusted." He chortles as he pounds against the fat of your ass, over and over, watching your flesh bounce from the force of each impact. 

His two cocks worked together to bring you your third orgasm of the evening. It was utterly indescribable, pleasure crashing over you in unrelenting waves. No-one, not even yourself, had managed to make you cum this hard, but the way Sukuna was fucking you had you seeing stars. The climax wreaked through you, your core quivering and contracting around the demon’s cock to bring him closer to his own release.

“F-fuuuck, brat. I’m gonna--” His hips falter and he struggles to hold onto what’s left of his sanity as your cunt practically milks him for all he���s worth. “You’re gonna take every last - hngh - fucking drop of my seed, yes?” 

You nod your reply up to him. 

“Use your words, y/n. Beg me for it. Tell me how much you want it.”

“Please! Please breed me, my King!” With your pupils dilated and eyes half-lidded, your gaze meets his as you plead. “Give me your heir!” 

With one final thrust and accompanying grunt, the King of Curse floods you with his seed. Both of his cocks spasm inside you as thick ropes of the cum plaster your womb and trickle down your fertile walls, forming a vulgar puddle where his hips were mashed into yours. 

Guiding you to lay down on your front, Sukuna collapses on top of you in exhaustion. His chest heaves against your back with his ragged breaths whilst he remains seated inside you. Confused as to why he had not yet relinquished his grip on you, you begin to struggle underneath his weight.

“Shh, shhhh, y/n.”  He coos in your ear, sweeping your hair out of the way to bury his face against the crook of your neck. “We have to make sure it takes.” 

You whimper weakly, nodding to show your understanding.

Whilst pondering his next words, a raucous chuckle leaves him which echoes through the chamber. “You’d better take this as an opportunity to rest up, brat. The night is young and I am not done with you yet.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

[erathene]

Sowing Seeds

Summary: Wound up by your mother’s incessant nagging, you reminisce over the ranger of the north you fell in love with. Aragorn helps in more ways than one.

Word count: 2k

Pairing: Aragorn x Female!Reader 

Warnings: This fic is rated mature. LOTS of Spice, sexual themes (flirting, touching, kissing, teasing). Mentions of pregnancy and conceiving a child. Mentions of sexual intercourse, but it is not explicitly described. 

AO3 Link: Sowing Seeds

Author's note: Thank you to @emmanuellececchi for being a wonderful Beta reader and taking time to provide feedback even when sick! You're the best 😘 Thank you also to @dancerinthestorm and @inkedmoth who cheered me on when I was documenting my creative process, you guys are awesome 🙂 This fic is also dedicated to anyone who has had the unsolicited question of “when are you having kids // when are you trying for baby #2”. Fertility and conceiving is a journey which looks different from person to person, and there are many versions of happiness that come with it. Enjoy ❤️

..........................

"My love?"

At the distant sound of your husband's voice, you glance up, the letter from your mother still clutched in your hand. You rise quickly, tucking the parchment back into its envelope and stuffing it hastily into a drawer of the writing desk.

"In here," you call back to him. Even after all these months of living in the royal quarters, at times they still feel enormous to you.

He rounds the door to the study and your eyes take in the full sight of him. He's sporting a crisp linen shirt and lightweight moss-green tunic, both of which are generously covered in dirt. His sleeves have been rolled up to the elbows, the dirt even more pronounced around his exposed forearms, down to his hands and fingertips. His breeches and boots fare no better, and there are particularly large patches of mud clinging to his kneecaps where he must have been kneeling in the fresh earth. There's also a slight sheen on his forehead which speaks of his toil.

He looks far more ranger than king today, more than you've seen in a long time. He looks... delightful.

"Been in the gardens again?" you muse, taking in his form with one eyebrow raised and a twitch at your mouth.

"Aye," he says, brushing one elbow where a patch of drying mud seems to bother him. "Our head gardener believes we will have the most spectacular blooms in the palace gardens ere the start of summer," he gushes passionately.

"I don't doubt it," you smirk, still looking him up and down, "with all the work you're putting in."

He flashes a quick smile in your direction. There he is. Your ranger. The dirt-ridden Dúnedain who was always traipsing from one corner of Middle Earth to another, ragged and rough-looking from the wilds and the woodlands, the scent of which lingered on every part of his being. You suddenly wished you were close enough to smell him, just as a flash of a distant memory crosses your mind; one of the two of you buried in each other's arms, his calloused hands running gently through your hair, your lips pressing against his, fully consuming him yet wanting more. The temporary burst of imagery in your mind is intense.

You blame your mother for this, her and her persistent letters which usually centre around the royal heirs that need to come forth sooner rather than later. She was quick to approve your match with long-lost-heir-to-the-throne-of-Gondor Aragorn, but much less approving of Strider and his ranger ways. Indeed, if he had stepped over her threshold in his current state, she would likely throw him out and tell him to go bathe in a horse trough before showing his face at her doorstep again.

He somehow seems to partly read your mind. "I'll go change into something more--"

"Don't," you interrupt him quickly. The last thing you want him to do is change.

You slowly cross the room to where he is standing with a slightly bewildered look on his face, the light chiffon of your dress trailing behind you across the carpets. It's a loose-fitting gown, one of the more casual garments from your wardrobe, the colours well-suited to the warming spring weather. With no royal engagements today, you had deliberately chosen it over the tighter, more formal frocks that now seemed to be overflowing from every armoire in your chambers.

What happened to the simple leggings and cotton blouses you used to wear? What was ever wrong with them?

"What troubles you?" Aragorn's voice is calm and quiet as you approach, despite the crease in his brow. Ever the doting husband, he instinctively knows that something has irked you. 

"Nothing of great significance... My mother and her nagging," you shrug shyly with a roll of your eyes.

"And what has she to say, pray tell?" He traces the backs of his knuckles along your upper arm, up to your shoulder and the strap of your dress, so gentle it barely touches your skin.

You look up into his deep, grey eyes. "Please, I do not want to think about my mother right now." Your voice is hovering somewhere between a whisper and a moan. He doesn't stop caressing your arm. "She's on about… that subject again."

His eyebrows lift in surprise. "Has she rescinded her opinion of me? To be posing the question to you so openly and so often?"

You snicker at the thought. "I don't think she will ever move past the fact that her only daughter went chasing after a ranger of the north. She missed out on the opportunity to play matchmaker." Yes, your mother would have loved to have been the one to set you up with some petty lord with the promise of new trade links for your homeland and a sizable dowry for your family's coffers. 

Aragorn hummed to himself, his head tilting sideways as he considered this fact. "Is the King of Gondor not enough for her?" he says, stretching his arms wide in jest.

"Enough of that talk, Telcontar," you scoff, using his chosen house name against him. "You married a strong woman; unfortunately for you, she comes with an equally strong mother-in-law."

"Well," he breathes softly, wrapping his soiled hands around your own, "loathe as I am to do something to appease your mother, the idea of you, round and brimming with our child, does sound very appealing to me." He lifts your hands to his chest where your finely-crafted silver wedding band gleams in the bright sunlight. "A little Telcontari of our own," he murmurs, placing a kiss on your ring finger.

You cannot help your coy smile. "Only the one?"

His fingertips reach for a stray strand of your hair that dangles beside your cheek, and he carefully tucks it behind your ear. "However many you want, my love." His giant hand moves from your hair to your jawline, his thumb inching towards your mouth.

His words are deliberate and astute; many times you have mentioned your childhood spent amongst your large family, and there is little doubt he is not aware of your desire for a generous brood. Yet you cannot stop the flirtatious back talk that slips from your open mouth. "You may come to regret that," you say, before biting your lip and locking his gaze.

A smile quickens across his features. "I think I ought to be the judge of what I regret saying to my wife."

It almost sounds like a challenge.

Strong, muscular arms pull you in closer as he speaks, embracing you, his palms settling into the small of your back. He holds you regally, his touch firm yet gentle, as though you're the answer to every prayer he's ever spoken in tortured whispers to the divine. You are his queen, and he intends to treat you as such; he lays a tender, drawn-out kiss on your forehead where the Gondorian diadem would normally be resting on your brow. He is practically worshipping you.

Yes, it's good. But receiving the royal treatment is not on your agenda today. What you are looking for, what you need, is the ranger in him. You need Strider.

Your next move catches him somewhat off guard. You press your palms to his chest and push him backwards, driving him into the wall with a gentle thud. His eyes betray his curiosity, but he shouldn't be surprised; after all, it was he who trained you in hand-to-hand combat when you joined the northern rangers. You begin your assault, placing kisses along his collarbone and up his neck to where, eventually, you come to the skin beneath his ear where you know he is most sensitive. He confirms you have found his weakness with a low, gravelly moan that rumbles his throat. It gives you the confidence needed to push on, to be bolder. Your hands trail from his chest to the nape of his neck, up into his hair, your fingertips massaging his scalp before pulling his lengths taught. You smirk into his skin when he lets out a second moan.

You should have known better than to think your touch would disable him and this time, it's you who is caught off guard. He sweeps your legs out from under you and wraps them around his waist, spinning you around, lifting you up against the same wall he had his back to moments ago. The breath is driven out of your lungs as he pins you there. He gives you a look, his eyes holding a hunger like he's absolutely starved of you, and you know you're about to learn exactly what regret means.

His lips take to your mouth and he's a man on a mission; to satiate every whim, every desire, every need that you awoke within him and he will not allow himself to rest until he has achieved it. His kiss is wild, passionate, and his broad hands explore your body freely, taking in every contour and curve you have to offer him. You finally figure out how to draw breath again and you inhale his scent, the blissful smell of gardens and disturbed earth washing over you.

It's not hard for you to picture him the way you fell in love with him; a worn travelling cloak hanging from his well-built shoulders which also bear his pack, bow and bedroll, prepared and ready for whatever the world throws his way.

He breaks away momentarily, muttering something incomprehensible about how sweet you taste, before his lips meet your own once more. He consumes you as though you're the first proper meal he's had after weeks on the road. Your breath catches in your throat as he nips at your bottom lip in his frenzy, yet your reaction only encourages his mouth; further kisses are placed along your jawline, one after another like trailing footprints, inching their way to your neck, where his teeth sink into yet more of your flesh and begin to gently suck. He knows just as well as you do that it will leave a bruise. A claim to mark his territory. 

His hands return to roaming about your thighs, tugging at the fabric of your dress, searching for his prize. You know exactly what he wants. However, your full-length gown is awkwardly caught around your knees, the chiffon unwilling to stretch, blocking his access. His fingers switch to tugging at the fastening at the back of the dress, impatient and restless. 

Frustrating as it is to tell your husband to stop, your conscience knows you must. Breaking away from his touch, you hiss a command. "Not here, Aragorn.” You have been working hard to build a trusting relationship with your household staff in recent months, and goodness knows what would happen if one of them were to catch their king and queen in the act of procreation right here on the study floor. The poor elderly head housekeeper would likely faint with shock.

He tries to protest, the disappointment evident in his longing eyes, but you press your index finger to his lips.  "And not with those filthy hands either. Wash them first, then meet me in the bed chamber." You pause, taking a moment to lean in to whisper in his ear, "and there, you can remove whatever you want." Your seductive tone makes the prospect sound even more inviting to him than it already is.

Aragorn sighs, allowing a curse to slip through his lips. He releases your thighs and they slowly drag against his soiled breeches until your feet return to the floor. You pull away and turn towards your chambers, but not before taking a moment to look back at your husband; he's gaping at you like a fool, completely caught in your trance, so you intentionally allow the strap of your dress to fall from your shoulder. You know it's all he can do to keep his feet planted where he stands and not curse you again for being such a tease. As a final provocation, you run your tongue across your bottom lip before sauntering away, your hips deliberately swinging from side to side as he watches you leave. The palace gardens are not the only place Aragorn will be sowing his seeds today, it would seem. 

[targaryen-dynasty]

DEPRAVITIES.

Prince Regent!Aemond Targaryen x female!Reader

When your husband feels overwhelmed reining in the stead of the severely wounded King, it is your duty as his wife to comfort him.

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT–MINORS DNI; profanity, lactation kink, lactating, pregnant reader, p in v, cuckolding, degrading, humiliating, tiddy slapping hehe, blink and you'll miss the size kink, very brief breeding kink, female Reader, Prince Regent Aemond

WORDS: 1.8 K

NOTES: Re-posting something I really enjoyed writing before going on hiatus.

Credit for the center piece goes to @justkwordme on twitter.

When the Great Hall slowly cleared, it was your turn to approach your husband, still seated on the large Iron Throne and the Conqueror‘s Crown atop his silver-blonde mane. 

His shoulders and head dropped slightly with the heavy doors falling shut behind the last person leaving, clearly displaying all the pressure that rested on them. Your lips had dropped as well, into a pout that showed the pity you held for him. 

You approached him with slow, careful steps not to startle him as if you were a hunter stalking towards its prey, not making a sound to strike in an ambush.

And when your hand eventually brushed his shoulder, he released a long sigh. 

Without either of you saying anything, you positioned yourself onto his lap, straddling his thighs with your arms wrapped around his neck and the skirts of your dress rucked up around your hips.

Ever since you got pregnant, you hadn’t touched any of your normal dresses–the fabric either too heavy or too tight for your changing body. Lighter dresses with much less embroideries and other decorations filled your closets, a new one being fitted to your growing bump and breasts at least every fortnight. 

Much to your husband’s delight, since he was utterly infatuated seeing your body swell because of him–or much more his seed.

Aemond fully embraced your advances and the position, head tipping forwards to rest his forehead against your swollen bosom, enjoying the simple proximity and comfort you brought. 

Your marriage with him hadn’t always been like that, starting cold and with him showing no emotions other than the sense of duty for your arranged marriage. 

Only after you both had learned Aemond had put a child into you, something primal in him set itself free, making him protective of you… but also obsessed. 

Your pregnancy was nearing the seventh moon, and your breasts were swollen enough for your back to ache from the weight and for your feet to hurt with each step. It was rare you even left your marital chambers, mostly laying in bed with your feet positioned atop a few pillows. 

The dowager queen had told you it was normal for a woman carrying a Targaryen offspring to experience such terrible side-effects during their pregnancy, as both she and her daughter had shared the same fate many times before. 

You believed her–but only because you didn’t have another choice. 

Your breasts were hot and tender to the touch and already swollen to the point one easily overfilled Aemond’s large hands. And just like now, they always tended to strain against the low cut necklines of your dresses, the fabric cutting into the skin and making your flesh appear to spill over it. That had earned you the curious glances of more than one man of court, much to your husband’s dismay.

The swell of your belly put some distance between your bodies, and Aemond had his hands planted on either side of it–a habit he had picked up rather quickly with your unborn babe starting to kick just mere nights ago.

When he pressed his chiseled lips to the exposed and flushed skin over your breasts in a soft kiss, the familiar warmth spread throughout your body, settling at the apex between your legs. It was a subtle movement as you ground your hips down on his, but still enough for Aemond to groan against your body. 

A dark-blown pupil gazed up at you with his eye widened slightly, the lilac almost completely eclipsed by black, not having to say anything for you to know what he wanted. 

You gave him a reassuring nod, and in no time, he had pushed the neckline of your dress down enough to free not one, but both your breasts out of their confines. 

From the heavy sigh you released it was clear you felt relieved already, more so when his lips wrapped around one of your hardened buds. But the familiar stimulation of his fingers around the other one was missing–until you eventually felt his hand eagerly undoing the laces in the front of his breeches. 

It was difficult for him to do so with you sitting on top, so you slightly raised your hips, allowing him to pull out his hard and throbbing cock. 

You were surprised he went that far, especially because you were in the Throne Room with the possibility of someone barging into the room–but you also were excited. 

“Aemond,” you spoke softly. “We cannot.”

Though your words were a weak attempt to protest, there did not really come any objection from you as he fisted himself between your bodies, yours already craving what your mind still needed to process. 

He pulled back from you with a lewd pop, just a bit of your milk resting in the corners of his mouth. It was obscene, but in your eyes he had never looked so good. “We can,” he all but barked. “I will have the head of anyone that chooses to interrupt us right now–regardless of who it is.”

With that, he tugged the center of your smallclothes aside enough for his digits to tease your entrance, positively surprised you were already soaked for him and whining at the contact. 

“I did not know I have married a whore,” he teased shamelessly, bringing the fingers covered with your arousal up to smear it around the areola of your right breast. “Are you certain my brother did not fetch you from the Street of Silk or Flea Bottom even? Or is everyone in the Reach just as depraved as you are, sweet wife?”

The profanity of his words sent a shiver down your spine, and if there even was a sense of restraint still left in your body, it vanished with your hand entangling into his silver mane to tug his head towards your bosom, clearly wanting to silence him.

“Enough,” you scolded teasingly, biting the tip of your tongue to suppress a smirk from taking over your features. 

When you eventually sank down on his throbbing length in one swift movement, you shuddered, and Aemond and you both released a contented moan. 

His lips locked around the bud that was covered in your arousal, sucking it in the rhythm your core clenched around him. There was no need for you to move–no, you didn’t even want to–fully satisfied with the way his member was just buried inside of you. 

Your head tipped back in pleasure, and you tried your best to stifle your moans, only quiet whines and whimpers leaving your lips at the stimulation. 

As the pressure in your breast slowly subsided, you were finally able to feel him suckle, and when you looked down, you were blessed with a sight that was truly created by the Seven. 

Aemond’s chiseled lips were wrapped around your little bud, his eye half closed and his cheeks dimpled from the suction, amplified each time he swallowed the bits of your milk. 

His tongue flickered over your hardened bud, eliciting a soft moan from the depths of your chest. You were able to feel him throbbing inside of you at the sound, followed by a growl that vibrated through your whole body. 

You not-so-gently tugged on his hair again, seeming to spur him on even more, and whined a ‘you will have to do the other as well.’ 

As he pulled back once again, you couldn’t stop yourself from pouting, which was mended by the sight of him licking over your bud to gather the remnants of your milk–all while he kept his eye locked with yours. No matter how badly you wanted not to moan, you couldn’t stop the sound from spilling past your lips. It was certainly getting a reaction out of you. The possibility of being caught long forgotten.

“Stop being greedy,” Aemond panted, and you just bowed your head in submission and nodded. “You should be grateful.” As if it was not him asking for permission to suck your breasts in the first place. 

“Y-Yes,” you mumbled in feigned humility, choosing to play into his game.

“Yes, what?” Aemond asked, serving a slap to your sensitive breast that had you wincing. 

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Better.” 

And with that, he locked his lips around your other bud, but not without groping your rear to pull you closer towards him and deeper onto his cock–at least as close as possible with your swollen belly between your bodies. 

You sat just right with the hem of his tunic rubbing against your pearl, every lap of his tongue and squeeze of his fingers around your other breast sending a bolt of pleasure straight down between your legs. 

But then your hips started to move on their own accord, grinding down on him, riding him while he sucked every last drop of milk from you. 

The aching of your back and breasts was long forgotten as you chased your pleasure. 

A couple of moments passed until you felt Aemond’s breathing growing labored, his chest almost heaving with more and more muffled grunts and groans escaping his throat. He was loud–much to your surprise–but your body seemed to keen at that, the knot in the pit of your belly tightening at a rapid pace.

And then, you toppled over the edge of your peak with a loud cry of his name. 

Your body crouched forward while both arms just wrapped around the back of his neck to pull him closer into your bosom, the coldness of the crown pushing against your collar bone a stark contrast to the heat soaring within your body. 

You were trembling astride him, whining when you felt how your peak’s contractions were practically forcing the spend out of your husband’s cock. 

Just like he was sucking you dry, you were milking him for every last drop of his spill, too. 

And as he spilled inside of you, he released your breast to curse your name and bury his face between your now soft and tender breasts. 

There was silence between you safe for your heavy breathing, before you leaned back enough to look down at Aemond. His lips were red and swollen, a soft flush covered his cheeks and neck, and the lilac of his eye was still completely drowned out by black. 

Your head bowed forwards to capture his lips in a kiss that was shy of gentleness, the remnants of your milk on his tongue and lips spreading over to yours. 

When he pulled back, a sly smirk was draped over his lips–a smirk that couldn’t mean any good. 

“Let us retreat to our chambers, wife. I am not yet full.”

Aemond was insatiable, you had learned that very early into your marriage. And that meant you were in for yet another sleepless night, preparing you for what was to come once the babe was born.

[latenightdaydreams]

Hii i love your writing and was wondering if you could do king-eldritch!konig and human!reader(female)

I was thinking like maybe reader when to far in the beach and got kidnapped by king-eldritch!konig because he felt that reader is his mate and wanted her for himself but to complete the mating process they had to be intimate and he couldn’t do that because she had a human body

So he took her back to his kingdoms sea witch and had human!reader turn to a eldritch hybrid 🙀🙀🙀

Chat im fuming with this idea

-🧸

Hi! Thank you!! 🩷🩷

Eldritch!König x Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, kidnapping, almost drowning

1.1k word count

🐙

.

.

It’s a gloomy day at the beach, meaning few people are going to be there. You get dressed in your bathing suit with a small white dress over and walk down to the beach. Once there, you see a few older couples, so you walk down along the shoreline to the other end. The waves calmly roll in, the water feels cool over your feet. Unaware of eyes on you, you feel relaxed; a sense of tranquility washes over.

König watches you, not too far out from the shoreline. His curious eyes looking up and down the curve of your body. In all his time he’s seen plenty of humans, but you… you’re something spectacular. He follows you as you move. You’re totally oblivious to his presence.

You stop once you feel far enough away from everyone and take off your dress. The bikini you’re wearing barely covers any of your body. With slow steps, you walk into the water, letting your body get used to the temperature. You turn your gaze up towards the grey sky, enjoying the peace that surrounds you.

The tension in the air changes once you feel eyes on you. Slowly you look around, seeing if anyone is approaching the beach where you are, when you suddenly feel something on your feet. You jump back slightly and look down to see two tentacles inching their way to your ankles. When you look up, your eyes are met with two glowing eyes from under a black hood covering its face.

Fear washes over you as you notice the size of this creature. You’ve encountered octopus before, but never have you seen a creature like this one. Lifting your right foot, you attempt to step back, but the creature quickly grabs your leg. In a panic, you look around to see if there was anyone on the beach to assist you.

A tug and you fall on your back, a small pained groan leaves you. Before you can recover, the tentacles pull you into the water. Your fingers grasp at the sand and attempt to ground yourself and fight against it. Soon you’re forced to take a deep breath as you become fully submerged in the cold water.

König swims away with you, too tangled in his grip to break free. You aren’t a strong swimmer, yet you still try to swim away. The lack of air is getting worrisome, your thoughts turning dark as you feel this is how you die. Within a few seconds, you get light-headed before you eventually pass out.

When you come to, you’re lying on the rocky sand inside of a cave. Waves crash up on your feet as your eyes inspect the area. For a moment, you wonder if everything that just happened was a dream. Maybe you just slipped and floated out. That is until you look down at your legs and see the suction marks that cover your skin.

König reveals himself to you, he comes out from the water with a hood covering his face, only his eyes visible. He stands almost as tall as the cave, well over 15 feet, causing you to shiver in fear. His tentacles slithering to your body. They crawl up your legs and hold you down. You gaze up at him with wide eyes as he lowers himself down to get closer to you.

“Do not fear me, Kleine.” You hear a voice echo within your mind. “I’m König.”

His tentacles up your leg and pulls at the fabric covering your lower half. He pulls the fabric down to expose you to him. A low rumble leaves his body as his tentacles move up. You can feel his tentacle press against your pussy, causing your legs to twitch when he passes over your sensitive clit. He attempts to shove one inside of you, desperate to see every inch of you. A burning feeling happens, a pained wail leaves your lips as you close your eyes.

Once he realizes you’re in pain he withdraws. You’re too small. Your human body can’t take his size so there is no way you’d be able to carry his children like this. As he thinks, he caresses your body in an attempt to keep you relaxed.

“Es tut mir Leid, Kleine. I’ll fix this.”

“Fix what?” You say out loud.

The echo of his voice causes your head to ring with agony. Your hands go to the sides of your head, rubbing your temples in an attempt to calm your mind. König slips away back into the ocean.

You stand up and walk to the edge of the sand, looking out to see how far you are from the beach. As you gaze out across the water, you realize that there is no way that you could swim back yourself. The cave is deep, and you’re too fearful to explore further. Tears fall from your eyes as you sit in a fetal position.

Hours pass before you see the water moving. König beckons you near the water's edge. Hesitantly, you slowly stand and wipe the rest of your tears away. The small rocks under your feet are painful as you approach König.

A woman pokes her head out of the water next to König. She’s smaller, almost human size. Her skin is translucent and her eyes are almost a pale white. When she speaks, it causes goosebumps to form all over your body. The language is unknown to you but sounds like a calming melody.

Her cold hand reaches out and grabs you, pulling you closer to her. She looks deeply into your eyes, speaking in a soft voice, slowly lulling you into a trance like state. Inch by inch she pulls you into the water to join her. You aren’t in control of your body at this point.

In the water she brings you under, her word never stopping as she forces you to drink something. You take in the liquid as a full mouth of salt sea water. Your body struggles as your lungs attempt to take in a deep breath, but all you get is more water. This is how you die, drowning alone in the middle of the ocean. A sharp wave of pain travels throughout your whole being before you finally pass out, slowly drifting to the oceans floor.

 König watches over your body as you lie on a bed of soft plants, he made a while ago once he began his journey to find a mate. You look so beautiful, your new body is larger and will be able to take him and carry his offspring. While he is consumed with excitement and wants to wake you, he knows that the transformation took a lot out of you, so he just sits near and watches you. A small satisfied look on his face; finally, a queen.

[inuhalfdemon]

The Chain Game (2/3)

[If anyone knows who I can credit for the above Fanart; PLEASE let me know! This was something sent to me and I haven't been able to track down the artist myself yet...]

Part 2

RadioApple SMUT

Part 1: Here

Part 3: Here

Brainrot into one-shot fanfiction

Rating = 18+

Word Count = 1,726 Words

Ya'll can thank @lily-lilzy-lil for it. She fed me with her kind enthusiasm. Enough so, even that I might already have a part 3 in mind...

“Are we ready for another round?” Lucifer’s voice came from the surrounding darkness.

Alastor hung…kneeling. He was bound tightly by the chains winding across his chest; wrists secured within the links wrapping above his head. The large brimstone shackle was heavy on his neck; the chain to its ring hanging loose and dragging beside him.

“Heh…is that one of the questions?” Alastor smirked, his voice a crackling radio.

A chain slithered from the blackest of shadows; twisting and hissing as it found its way home; curling itself up Alastor’s naked torso and tightening painfully. He hissed as the links burned more brands across his bare, scarred skin. 

“Yes.” Lucifer told him, stepping out from concealing shadows. “It was.” He was shirtless – bare-chested – just as Alastor was; his dress pants and shoes the only remnants to the clothing he had been wearing.

Alastor starred at the King’s exposed upper body. The radio demon’s green eyes flared wide – hungry and gleaming – drool seeping from sharpened teeth. The base to each of his antlers thickened; the smooth bone becoming heavy and long as points branched higher and higher above his head.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Lucifer asked him. “Still rutting I see…”

The demon growled; a low sound intermingling with the sharp sounds of a radio static.

“And, still losing.” Lucifer sighed, another chain slithering past him to lift and strike out just like a snake; catching and winding itself through the ring to the shackle just at the base of Alastor’s throat. The chain jerked and Alastor’s neck was pulled sharply forward.

“You look like you have sobered up, though.” Lucifer told him; approaching carefully. “Tell me, Alastor…now that my ichor has left your system; are you thirsty for more?”

Lucifer flicked clawed fingers; bringing sharp points against his own bare skin, just at the soft bunch of flesh that stretched across one shoulder. Slicing there, gold blood seeped and spilled from the cut; threading down his chest and abdomen.

Alastor snarled in answer; his eyes flaring brighter, antlers growing longer, his hair standing up – sharp and bristled; overwhelmed by his overpowering need.

“Yes…” The radio to his voice nearly screeching. “…your majesty…”

“Well, now.” Lucifer stepped closer. “Honesty and manners this time. A reward for you…I think.”

A chain dropped from Alastor, winding its way back into the dark as the other chains still supporting him shifted and moved. Alastor’s hands were released but the chains encircling his chest and neck were dragging him backward so that when they found their placements; the radio demon was stretched fully on his back; pinned to the ground. He tried to move; trying even to just to be able to prop himself up in order to see what the King was doing; but the chain tightly secured to his shackle held fast.

Alastor’s ears worked nervously. He was starring up into complete darkness; his body tense with the knowledge that Lucifer meant for him to not know what was coming.

When he felt Lucifer’s hands on his legs - moving them so that they were spread easily wide apart - and the King moved between them, Alastor growled. The sound was low and warning; promising a deadly reciprocation to whatever the fallen angel intended; given the chance…  

He felt the King moving, climbing over him so that he leaned across and over Alastor’s chest; his hands supporting his weight from either side of Alastor’s head. Lucifer’s wide golden eyes matched Alastor’s flaring bright green ones; a wicked smile spread across the King’s face as he leaned himself closer to Alastor’s face. Baring his sharp teeth and flattening his ears, Alastor fought to lift his head; meaning to bite. The chain restraining his neck tightened and any give that Alastor had found in it before was now lost.

 Laughing, Lucifer smiled down at the sinner demon lying just beneath him.

“I promised you your reward. I keep my promises, Alastor.” Lucifer told him, leaning closer so that they were face-to-face; Lucifer only just out of reach from Alastor’s sharp and pointed teeth. Lucifer tilted his head; fully exposing his still-bleeding wound he had opened across his shoulder.

Alastor’s growling choked in his throat; seeing the golden strands tracing down the King’s chest; sparce warm drops falling onto Alastor’s bare skin. The growling had turned into a brief but desperate whine for relief; Alastor’s clawed hands digging into the ground beside him; finding no purchase – claws cutting grooves into the dark floor.  

“I’m afraid you’ll have to use that rather useful tongue of yours.” Lucifer was telling him; leaning back just enough to give Alastor the best angle for full access.

Without a moment for hesitation, Alastor’s tongue lashed from between his bared teeth – long and dripping - it lapped at the streams of golden blood. A groan emitted from Alastor; barbs from his tongue pressing roughly against the fallen angel’s skin as he hungrily scraped for every…last…drop.  

Alastor’s eyes started glazing over and Lucifer chuckled.

“You’re not a very fast learner…are you.” Lucifer said darkly. It wasn’t a question. Alastor’s tension was gone. Drunk with the angel’s blood; he retreated his tongue – eyes closing as he let his head fall back.

Leaving him to his buzz; Lucifer crawled back down to kneel between Alastor’s long legs. He began working at the radio demon’s dress pants; reaching just behind the seam at the crotch, finding the bulge within and sliding Alastor’s seeping and engorged cock out.

Alastor shuddered; pleasurably. Gasping at the contact.

“You know,” Lucifer said, holding the large penis in his hand. “I, too, can do some pretty…interesting things with my tongue.” His eyes flared; sharply golden. “Shall I…demonstrate?” He asked in a purr.

“Yes.” Alastor was groaning again. “Your Majesty.”  

“That’s my deer…” Lucifer told him.

Using his own tongue now, he let it slither from between his teeth. Just as a snake’s, it stretched and flicked itself so that it tortuously skimmed the underside of Alastor’s cock – touching all along the base and shaft underneath then going to flick at the soft skin along his balls.    

Alastor was panting. A redness was spreading across his chest and face; a slick sheen of sweat coating his skin.

Lucifer continued to teasingly flick his tongue all along Alastor’s root; occasionally bringing it around to circle the shaft. The muscle there was tightening quickly.

Pausing briefly, Lucifer adjusted his hold on Alastor’s throbbing penis. “Careful, you don’t want to miss out on the best part.” Snaking his tongue out; Lucifer carefully elongated the shape so that the forks lengthened and thinned. Expertly, he directed the tips to the slit at the head of the slick cock; sliding them inside.

Alastor bucked and Lucifer pressed clawed hands into each hip; holding him steady and he worked his tongue so that it slid in further.

“Ah….” Alastor was lost. The stimulation was too incredible. Timing it perfectly, Lucifer snaked his forked-tongue deeper before slowly retreating it back out. Alastor’s body shook. Removing his tongue entirely; Lucifer took Alastor’s cock fully and quickly into his mouth; biting down sharply just as the organ tightened and sprayed cum.

Softly coiling his tongue all along the twitching cock; Lucifer sucked and swallowed before dropping it limp from his mouth.

Lucifer stood up from where he had been kneeling; there, between the radio demon’s legs.

Alastor laid, still panting and gasping. The deep red color his skin had turned was contrasting the brands of chain links in an interesting way. His clawed hands were shaking and he was drenched in sweat now. His body twitched; still feeling the waves of ecstasy crashing over it.

Lucifer laughed; stepping away to loosen his own dress pants now. He paused; then as if deciding something he slipped out of the remaining clothes entirely.

“You certainly know how to take your…licks.” Lucifer said. “If you actually are in the middle of a rut though…it’s you that could do with some mounting. I suppose you’re in enough of a manageable state that I could allow it.”

Lucifer stepped back to where he had left Alastor; still tightly restrained to the floor.

“What say you?” Lucifer asked him; the chains around Alastor coming loose now but never fully leaving him.

Alastor moved slowly. He was dazed; both from the remnants of ichor and the orgasm. Turning, he went to stand up; then thinking better of it he knelt back to the floor; eyes on the King.

“Your majesty…”  Alastor knelt; looking up – compliant.

“Good boy.”  Turning away from him – fully naked - Lucifer waved a hand and every chain holding Alastor dropped and went away into the dark; every chain save for the one holding to Alastor’s heavy brimstone collar.

Alastor smiled; standing and going to the King; dragging his chain with him.

Stopping to stand just behind Lucifer, Alastor paused; eyes flaring green, his antlers curling and twisting ever upwards.

“You may…regret this.” He said before he sunk the claws of his left hand into the flesh of Lucifer’s left hip; pulling the angel into him and spilling more blood. His right arm wrapped around the King, his clawed fingers finding his face and mouth; shoving them inside.  Snarling; he bit deep into the wound at Lucifer’s shoulder; swallowing hard as golden liquid poured out.

“Ahhhhhh…” Lucifer sunk to his knees and Alastor followed him down. His teeth still buried in the fallen angel’s shoulder; he forced the King down on all fours. Lucifer choked on his fingers; golden blood pooling on the ground from his wounds.

Gasping, Alastor released Lucifer’s shoulder. His vision blurred and darkened; the influence of angelic blood mixing with the influence of his rut. He was already hard again; his erection pressing fully into Lucifer’s bare back.

“Now…my King.” Alastor was purring darkly; sliding his fingers from Lucifer’s mouth. “I will gift to you the most fitting of thrones…”   

Lucifer gagged; blood and spit running down his chin.

“Do your worst…my deer.”

--‐‐--‐‐-‐--‐----‐---‐----------‐--‐----------------------------------------------------

Alastor jerked awake; déjà vu catching him even in his ‘half-asleep’ state.  

“Oh, what the Hell-” Followed by a sleepy yawn. “What fucking time is it?”

The room was pitch black; then a bedside light came on.

“Uh...” Alastor said, shifting awkwardly in the bed.

“AGAIN!?” Lucifer exclaimed loudly.

“Well…” Alastor replied.

“If this keeps happening, you and you’re one-eyed monster are sleeping somewhere else!”

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

Part 3

Brainrot credit:

@De Bergerac

The Masochism Tango

[rwby-encrusted-blog]

Continued from here

Ironwood: Pietro! How has your automatons Come along?

Pietro: *In a tracked, Steam-powered Wheel Chair* Fairly Well ...

Ironwood: What was that Pause for?

Pietro: ... Penny May have ran off.

Ironwood: *In Confusion and Anger* What.

Pietro: Well, My darling heard that the Princess Weiss Schnee hadn't arrived at Vale, she decided to go save her, like Knights in the stories I read to her.

Ironwood: ...

Pietro: She'll be fine! Mostly! Uh, some components were still in need of updating for their designs, but she can still move and fight!

Ironwood: ...

Ironwood: *In Utter befuddlement* What.

~~~~~

Jaune: *Moves a rook from f1 to e5*

Weiss: ...

Weiss: *Places her king on its side*

Jaune: Ha-Ha! *Rotates board so Weiss has the white pieces now*

Weiss: Hmph!

*Distance sound of chuffing*

Weiss: ... ?

Jaune: ?

*Chuffing grows Closer*

Jaune: ! *Draws Sword and Shield*

A Knight in Shining armor bursts through the door of the holding cell, Slitted visor lowered, with a long green feather poking out the top of the helmet

Knight: *Excited Steam Whistle, points at self*

Knight: *Certain Steam Whistle, Points at Weiss*

Jaune: ?

Weiss: *Shrug*

Jaune: *Fully readies for a fight*

Knight: *Unleashes floating swords*

Weiss: Halt!

Jaune: *Holds Still*

Knight: *Holds Still*

Weiss: Penny?

Penny: *Raises Visor, Whistles Happily*

Weiss: Er ist ein Freund! (He's a Friend!)

Penny: *Tilts head, Whistles Questioningly*

Weiss: *Gestures to chess board* Freund! (Friend!)

Penny: *Contemplative Whistle*

Penny: *Shocked Whistle*

Penny: *Excited Whistle, Holds arms out for hug*

Jaune: ?!?!?

Weiss: Jaune!

Jaune: ?

Weiss: *Hugs herself, points at Penny*

Jaune: ...

Jaune: *Walks to and hugs Penny*

Penny: *Hugs Jaune, whistling LOUDY*

Jaune: *Crushed by hug*

Weiss: Penny? Warum kannst du nicht sprechen?

Penny: *sets Jaune down*

Jaune: *Wheeze*

Penny: *Takes helmet off, revealing an exposed neck full of hoses, wires, and rods*

Penny: *Whistle!*

Weiss: Warum bist du gekommen? Ihr seid nicht zusammen! (Why did you come? You're not together!)

Penny: *Hands Weiss a picture*

It's a crudely drawn picture of Penny and Weiss holding hands. It clearly has Romantic Subtext.

Weiss: ... Danke. (Thank you.)

Penny: ... *Whistle?*

Weiss: Myrtenaster?

Penny: *Sad, apologetic whistle*

Jaune: ...

Penny: *Whistle!*

Penny: *Draws a picture*

Its an okay picture of Weiss' rapier

Jaune: !

Jaune: Pouvez-vous me comprendre? (Can you understand me?)

Penny: *Affirmative Whistle*

Jaune: L'épée est par là ! Veuillez suivre! (The Sword is this way! Please Follow!)

Penny: *Affirmative Whistle*

They Leave

Weiss: ...

Weiss: *Pushes door*

The Door opens without much resistance

Weiss: ...

Weiss: Konnte ich die Haltezeit wirklich einfach verlassen haben?Willst du mich veräppeln? (Could I have really just left the hold time?!? Are you Fucking Kidding me?!?)

[deviousdeliciousness]

A Drunken Giant Pt. 1

Poor little borrower Sai comes to realize that his giant friend Luka really isn't the same when he's downed a few drinks too many.

Funny what being drunk can do to a human's conscientiousness.

~~~~~~~

Sai jerked upright at the sound of the front door slamming closed, his heart feeling like it'd collided with his chest at his shock over the sudden, booming sound. He placed his hand over his sternum, letting out a quick breath to calm himself, scoffing internally.

Geez, it was obviously just going to be Luka, who Sai had thought had learned better than to make such loud noises now that he knew the tiny was around.

Sai rolled his eyes, falling back onto the huge, feather-stuffed pillow beneath him with his arms splayed out wide. In the couple months since he'd first truly met Luka and began to slowly, tentatively expose himself fully to the giant, things had been... pretty great, in all honesty.

Sure, Luka could be a little oblivious at times over how his size difference made some of his actions seem from Sai's perspective, but the tiny had soon learned that his giant friend was more than willing to correct his unwitting mistakes as long as Sai let him know about them.

For the past week, they'd been getting even closer still. It started because a mouse had found its way into the walls - a very unfriendly mouse, to specify - so Luka had proposed that Sai stay with him full time until one of the humane traps the giant bought successfully captured the mouse to be released somewhere suitably far away.

Sai had agreed, albeit reluctantly, but the thought of waking up in his little nest to a feral mouse trying to chew off his arm had more than sealed the deal.

Which was why Sai was where he was now.

Luka had gone out to celebrate something with some of his human friends, and he would be coming back pretty late. Neither of them wanted to risk Sai having to walk across the floors while the mouse was still on the loose, so Luka had helped Sai over to where they both usually slept: the giant's bed.

Which wasn't as terrible of an idea as it sounded like!

Sai had balked the first night when Luka had suggested it, but he'd eventually calmed down after the giant had explained things. The bed itself was king-sized, which meant that there was plenty of room for a borrower next to a human, and Luka pretty much slept like the dead. As in, once he fell asleep, he was more or less as still as a corpse except for the slow and steady rise and fall of his chest.

This all meant that it was perfectly safe for Sai to commandeer the pillow on the other side of the bed, and, along with a soft handkerchief Luka had donated to him for the cause, Sai had been having some of the best sleeps of his whole life.

Now however, Sai couldn't help but feel a shiver of unease go down his spine as he watched Luka finally stumble into the room, the giant's cheeks flushed a dark red and his eyes hazy and half-lidded.

Sai swallowed. He'd... he'd never actually seen Luka drunk before. Not even tipsy - not since the the giant had become aware of Sai's presence in their shared home.

The tiny carefully sat up fully on his pillow, watching with a slow yet undeniably growing sense of leeriness as Luka leaned heavily against the door-frame and peered unsteadily around the room, the giant letting out a hiccuping exhale as he did so. Sai could smell the alcohol on his breath from across the room, and it made his nose wrinkle and his burgeoning trepidation exponentially rise.

Luka's gaze lazily drifted over to the bed, and Sai stiffened when the giant's eyes finally landed on him, the resulting stare feeling like it was pressing down on him with all the weight of a cement brick.

It was too much. As he watched Luka's eyes light up with a disproportional amount of drunken glee upon having spotted him, Sai was consumed by a feeling so damnably chilling and so bitterly, achingly close to having become unfamiliar to him now welling up inside his chest. He flinched as the giant began to stumble towards him, each step loud and reverberating and so unlike what Sai had let himself become used to - let himself believe would never change.

He shakily got to his feet, taking a hesitant step back, then another as the giant's uneven gait failed to falter at his retreat, the familiar feeling of his own feet sinking into the soft pillow below him now menacing. Just another reminder of how impossible unlikely an escape would be.

"C'mere lil' guyyy," Luka slurred, his arms jerking up in front of himself, his thick fingers - each of which was nearly as wide as Sai's torso and as long as Sai was tall - curling inwards towards his palms in a grabby motion that made a bubbling sort of sick feeling clench in Sai's stomach.

A quiet noise of distress leaked past his lips without him even realizing, but he doubted the giant heard it anyways.

And it was too soon (far too soon) when a large, foreboding shadow loomed over the tiny's form (his shaking form, and when had he begun to tremble?), and he could no longer repress the urge to cower, crouching down and curling in on himself as if making himself any smaller than he already was would somehow make everything go away. It wouldn't. But it wasn't like he had any true options left. His throat had closed up with the thick lump that had formed in it; he wouldn't be able to get a single word out to the giant. No protest. No defense. And he knew with a cold sense of certainty that the edge of the mattress was too far away for him to reach before he would be caught.

(And privately, in the far recesses of his mind that he ruthlessly suppressed, Sai was terrified of the thought of Luka lunging at him if he tried to escape, the giant's gentle-turned-monstrous now uncoordinated hands unwittingly - so easily - crushing the life out of the tiny in his careless, thoughtless grip.)

So it was now, for the first time since the tiny had met his giant, that Sai felt completely and utterly afraid of the other being.

~~~~~~~

Cliffhanger ;DDD

huhuhuhuhuhuhu what will drunken Luka do?

[dark-moonlust]

Orc King x Elf Princess PART 2: Throne of Desires

Pairing: orc king x elf reader

Summary: you worship your king’s cock with your mouth and then he returns the favor, tenfold. 😉

Warnings: minors don't interact!!!, 18+!!!, oral (male+female receiving), fingering, overstimulation, loads of cum.

Read PART 1 here!

The throne room was lit by four torches, casting shadows across the walls as you approached your husband, the King of the Orcs. He sat in his huge stone throne, wearing nothing but a pair of trousers, his muscled, scarred body exposed in all its glory. He emitted raw power and masculinity, and was watching you with smoldering black eyes. Unlike him, you wore elvish finery; a glimmering night gown, your hair spilling down your back like a waterfall.

“My Queen,” he said, his voice vibrating through you. “I missed you.”

“I missed you more, my King. You’ve had many meetings and obligations to fulfill, my husband,” you said as you approached, sinking to your knees between his legs.

He bent down and kissed your lips, his tongue licking into your mouth. “You shouldn’t be kneeling, my love. Stand up and ride me, like the good mate you are.”

You smiled mischievously. “But I want to stay here. Only for today, and worship my hardworking husband.”

Without losing time, your hands reached for his belt, fingers fumbling with the buckle. His broad chest heaved with desire, his muscles taut. And he was already thick, a bulge straining against his pants, the sheer size of it making your breathing quicken. You cupped the fabric covering his cock which was getting bigger and bigger, and spread kissed over it, feeling the heat of his arousal.

Growled in warning, his hands settled on your shoulders. “No more teasing, my Queen.”

“As you wish, my King.”

Swiftly, you unbuckled his pants and dragged them down, your fingers deftly freeing his aching cock. The thick length sprang up from its confines, throbbing before your eager gaze. His shaft was massive and heavy, the tip leaking beads of pre-cum. Your orc’s breathing grew heavier and constantly growled from deep within his chest as he watched you with hungry eyes.

Mouth watering, you wrapped your fingers around his girth, marveling at its thickness and weight— you couldn’t fully enclose it all in your small palm. His pre-cum glistened in the low light, trickling down his length. You took the head of his cock into your mouth, suckling as if it was your favorite lollipop. The taste of him was a heady mix of salt and musk that made you crave more.

“Good, very good, my Queen,” he let out feral groan as his cock twitched.

Looking up at him, you began to pump his shaft in your palms while giving kitten licks to his leaking head. The more you stroked him, the more essence trickled from the tip. By now he had swelled to full mast, his cock a hard pole as thick as your forearm. His balls were just as swollen, heavy with orc seed and pulsing in your palm.

Desire pooled in your belly as you lowered your head and took him deep into your hot mouth, the sheer size of him stretching your lips wide. Your King’s growls grew deafening, his fingers forking through your hair, guiding you to take more of him into your wet mouth. His hips bucked, and you took him deeper, his cock kissing the back of your throat and causing you to gag. Your tongue swirled around him, head bobbing head up and down to please him.

“You’re so good for me, my Queen,” he rumbled, his voice husky but quivering.

Encouraged by his words, you doubled your efforts, pushing yourself to suck him deeper and harder. Breathing steadily through your nose, you hollowed your cheeks as you took him as deep as you could, your hands stroking the rest of him you couldn’t fit in your mouth. His hold in your hair hardened, his growls turning frantic, his thighs shaking in time with your movements.

“Fuuuuck— ahhh—I’m close,” he panted raggedly.

You didn’t slow down, you went faster to please him. You could feel his cock and balls throbbing, the pulses growing stronger as he neared his climax. With a final, powerful thrust, he filed your mouth and came, spurting load after load of his warm cum in your mouth. The force of his release was too much—it always was— and you worked your tongue, swallowing buckets of his seed.

Your mate pumped seed for seconds and seconds and suddenly he pulled out, a big palm pumping his cock and splattering the last of his seed across your face. Blinking, you stood there and took his marking, your cheeks and lips smeared with his cum, while his eyes looked at you with love and pride.

“Now it’s time to mark my face with your arousal, my Queen,” he drawled, kneeling before you and kissing your cum-stained lips.

Chest still heaving from his release, he lifted you, settling you on his grand throne. It was the highest seat of power and it would soon become the stage for your cries of pleasure. He tugged at the folds of your gown, your breasts spilling from the neckline. He cupped your pert tits, suckling and nipping at your nipples. Squirming, you arched against him, nails digging into his skin.

Dragging away your skirts, he kissed your soft belly, his tongue licking inside your bellybutton. You trembled when he continued to your creamy thighs until stopping at your glinting pussy. He draped your legs over his shoulders, his hands curling around your thighs and immobilizing you.

“Hmm, such pretty pussy,” he drawled, licking his lips. “So soaked for me.”

Callused thumbs opened your outer labia, his tongue inhaling sharply taking in your scent. Then he buried his face between your legs, his textured tongue parting your inner folds and licking long, slow stripes from your entrance to your clit. He devoured your slick as if he was starving, shamelessly eating you out and rubbing his nose against your clit.

The sensations took your breath away, sending jolts of pleasure through your entire body.

You began thrashing when you felt the stirrings of your orgasm but you couldn’t move. His hold on you was secure, his fingers digging into your inner thighs as he feasted on you without restraint. Gasping and moaning, you came hard, your hands gripping the arms of the throne. He licked you through your orgasm, casing you to turn frantic, your breasts heaving with each breath you dragged out of your lungs.

He gazed up at you as he worked your tender clit, his eyes dark with lust. “You taste so sweet, my Queen. Hmm, I could feast on you forever.”

“Ahh… my love,” you muttered, oversensitive and in sweet agony.

“Want you to cum again,” he rasped against you cunt. “Want you to mark me with your scent.”

“C..annn—can’t,” you whimpered, fingers burying in his hair and tugging. “Ahh, I can’t take it.”

A thick finger thrust inside you, his eyes blazing with demand. “Yes, you can and you will.”

And with that, he resumed his strokes, this time latching his lips at your clit while thrusting two fingers inside your tight pussy. His shoulders still held you open, and no matter how you begged and wiggled, he kept you there for his devouring. Slick sounds echoed through the throne room, mixed with your moans and his growls.

You lost track of time, writhing and begging for mercy.

But he was determined, kneeling between your legs and drawing one climax after the other from your body.

It was a wonderful and relentless assault on your senses.

When he finally decided to stop, he gave you the strongest climax out of them all, making your vision blur as you rode the last waves of pleasure. Your pussy clenched achingly around his digits, your juices flowing freely as he continued to lap at you, his face coated with your arousal. All you could do was surrender, your body trembling, your lips blabbering his name, your mind and heart belonging to him.

[unfortunate17]

(wilmon.) "Did you miss me?"

hey so I fully realize this is batshit insane so proceed with caution I guess. also you probably wanted something cute but here we are with a Wilmon never broke up in S3 so Wille never has his epiphany au. anyway, enjoy the inside of my brain 🥰

“Did you miss me?”

Simon stills at the threshold, taking in Wille’s darkened silhouette as he slumps on the bed. He’s still dressed in his elaborate suit, but his entire body is rigid, like a mannequin with its strings pulled too tight.

“What?”

Wille laughs, the sound cutting and unhappy. “I’m just asking if you missed me,” he says, “you know, on the dance floor where you spent half the fucking night avoiding me - ”

Simon feels his mouth open around a shocked noise. “You can’t be serious right now.”

“He was all over you,” Wille rips at his tie, his knuckles white around the dark fabric. “Do you have any idea what people are going to say? You’re my fucking husband, Simon.”

“You ignored me all night,” Simon snaps, crossing the room in two wide paces to stop just below the ornate chandelier that hangs in front of Wille’s king bed. “That guy was the only person who talked to me. And you were busy with every person in that room but me.”

“Because I’m the king.”

“Yeah,” Simon scoffs, rolling his eyes, “thanks for the reminder. It’s not like it’s impossible to forget or anything.”

In front of him, Wille inhales sharply, his shoulders straightening. His cheeks look gaunt in the low lighting, his pale skin stretched over nothing but bone. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means that maybe I didn’t want to go to the prime minister’s birthday party the same night that you finally got home from a tour,” Simon swallows back a sudden rush of hot tears. “It means that I don’t like being stuck here when you go on state visits. It means that I don’t like that you’re never around - and even when you are, it’s like you’re not.”

Wille stands. His jaw is clenched tight. “And instead of just saying that, you decided to go out and - “

“I didn’t do anything,” Simon cries, fisting his hands at his side. “You can’t react like this every time I talk to another man, Wille. It’s fucking insane.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you two had a lovely conversation.”

Simon narrows his eyes, “What happened in Belgium that you’re this pissed off?”

“Nothing,” Wilhelm snarls, unbuttoning his suit jacket and dropping it to the floor along with his tie. Simon watches as his fingers shake, slipping clumsily along the belt buckle.

The sight makes something pang deep inside his chest. “Here,” he whispers, stepping forward to gently push Wille’s hands aside, “let me get it.”

Up close, Wille smells sharp and sweet, a mixture of expensive whiskey and the gum he’s been chewing all night. Simon tucks his nose into the crook of his neck, pressing a soft kiss to the exposed skin of clavicle. Under his mouth, Wille shivers.

“Are you okay, my love?”

“Yeah,” comes the curt reply. Then, a long moment of silence that is only broken by a small, “No.”

“Tell me what’s wrong then,” Simon murmurs gently, nuzzling closer. At his feet, the belt clinks as it slips out of his grip and hits the plush carpet.

Wille’s throat bobbles. “Do you still - ” he trails off, falling silent.

Simon waits.

“Do you miss me - when I’m not around?”

“I wish you were always around.”

It’s seemingly the wrong thing to say because Wille steps away, shaking his head. Simon tries to grip his hands, but Wille snatches his away, tucking them into his pockets.

His eyes are dark and bottomless as he stares at Simon through his fringe. “But I can’t be,” he says darkly, “I’m the king, remember?”

There’s something being said here that Simon isn’t fully able to grasp. “I know,” he replies slowly, almost bewildered.

Then, Wille tosses his head back, exhaling deeply. He opens his mouth, still staring up at the ceiling, then closes it abruptly. It’s a long time before he speaks again. “Did you - did you want him?”

Simon blinks.

“That guy,” Wille continues, tipping his head back down to look Simon straight in the eye, “Raphael or whatever the fuck his name was. Did you want him?”

Simon’s mouth drops open. “Wille, what’re you - no. Of course not.”

“He’s not a king.”

“Wille,” Simon begs quietly. He cups his cheeks, steeping their foreheads together, “where is this coming from?”

Wille’s mouth trembles. “I just think that - he’s your type. And he’s normal. So if you wanted to - if it would make you happy - I could - learn to look the other way.”

Simon feels like he’s been dunked head first in ice water. “What the fuck are you talking about? What kind of person do you think I - why the hell would I want something like that?” He pauses, something hysterical striking him all at once. “Wait - do you want something like that.”

Immediately Wille curls an arm around his back, hauling him close. His entire body is shaking. “Fuck off. I love you. You know you’re it for me.”

“Then why - ”

“I just know I’m losing you,” Wille admits at last, the words wretched, “and I can’t lose you, Simon. I won’t survive it. And if - maybe if you can have something normal then - ”

“Stop it, Wille,” Simon slides his fingers over the pocked skin of Wille’s cheeks, down the sides of his jaw, then moves to tangle them into the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “this isn’t - you can’t think like this. It’s not good for you.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

“You’re not losing me,” Simon whispers, deeply melancholic. He leans in close, presses a gentle kiss to the corner of Wilhelm’s mouth. His skin tastes like salt. “But you are losing yourself.”

[starryevermore]

the house of snow (16) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his. 

chapter summary: coriolanus gets to enjoy you.

word count: 1,725

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, smut, oral (f receiving), fluff, pet name (petal) 

Coriolanus picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, and carried you to his room. Your room, he decided. To hell with these separate sleeping arrangements. He was not going to let you out of his sight ever again. All of this time apart only made you more anxious, made more uncertain of his feelings for you. If he had to be attached at your side for the rest of your life just to remind you that he cared for you, he would do it. He would do anything for your love. 

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips. You kissed him harder, as if you could taste his love if you tried hard enough. “I love you than a thorn loves its rose.”

“Are you the thorn to my rose?”

“I am whatever you wish me to be.”

Coriolanus kicked the bedroom door behind him and carried you over to the bed. He set you down on the edge, then dropped to his knees. He reached up your skirt, grabbing the edge of one stocking and pulling it down, then the other. Your hand gripped his hair, pushing him closer to where you wanted him to be. 

“Patience, petal,” he laughed as he removed your underwear. “I want to enjoy this as much as you do.”

He pushed your skirts up, leaving you fully exposed to him. He had half a mind to rip the dress right off of you, but that could wait. He truly did want to enjoy this. You had finally opened up to him, told him your worries and your fears. Coriolanus wanted to reward you for that. Wanted to show you that all would be well if you trusted him. 

You let out a whine as he pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses up your beautiful, plush thighs. Ever since your wedding night, he had been craving your legs wrapped around his head. If you had continued to ice him out, he would have dropped to his knees and begged for your forgiveness in the only way he knew might get you to respond to him. This was better, though. For you to open yourself up to him. 

When he finally reached your core, he couldn’t hold back any longer. Coriolanus wrapped his lips around your clitoris, giving it a harsh suck. Your hips lifted off the bed, grinding down on his face. Your hand, still gripping his hair, tugged harshly on his roots. A moan escaped his lips. Oh, yes, this was exactly what Coriolanus wanted. His pretty little petal behaving so good for him, letting him worship you as if that was all he was made to do.

Coriolanus wrapped his arms around your hips, urging your legs to rest on his shoulders. He felt your ankles lock together, one of your heels digging into his back. Perfect. You were so perfect, so responsive to him. “I love you,” he said as if it were prayer before he pushed his tongue in. 

You were so fucking wet for him. He had barely done anything, and yet you were dripping. He collected your juices on his tongue, savoring the taste, committing it to memory. Though he planned to spend every night for the rest of his life between your legs, he never wanted to forget this. If he should ever lose his brilliant mind, if he should never be as intelligent as he is now, he wanted to remember what it felt like to eat your cunt like it was his favorite meal. 

“Coryo, ah—” you cried out, tugging harder on his hair. “Too much—”

No—not enough.

Your thighs trembled. You were so close. Coriolanus swiped his tongue along your clit, moaning as you closed your legs around his head, trapping him there as you chased your high. They only slackened after you came undone with a shout. He pulled away, pressing another kiss to your thigh, before sitting back, admiring the mess you had become. 

“I love you, petal,” he said.

You offered him a sleepy smile. “You keep saying that.”

“And I will keep saying it until you believe it.” Coriolanus crawled up your body. When he laid over you, he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “And I will keep saying it long after.”

“I didn’t know you could be so sweet,” you confessed. 

Coriolanus huffed out a laugh, then kissed you again. “Only for you. Everyone else can think what they wish of me.”

You reached up, carding your fingers through his hair. His eyes fluttered shut. He loved how much you touched his hair. Could he make you play with it forever? What would his advisors think if he demanded you attend every meeting with him just so you could pet his hair? “You don’t mean that. You don’t become king by letting people think whatever of you.”

“No, you don’t become king like that. But when you are king…The only thing that could get you removed is doing a piss poor job. And we both know that I’m too brilliant for that.”

You giggled and pulled him down for another kiss. “So egotistical,” you tease.

“I’ve earned it. I have an intelligent, beautiful wife. I am clever. I am King. What else could a man dream of?”

You hum, sliding your hands down his chest. You pull at the end of his shirt, untucking it from his pants. Coriolanus’s brows pinch together. “I am sure you could dream of a few things.”

He says nothing, watching as you move to undo the buttons of his shirt. But when you move to push the fabric off his shoulders, he stops you. “What are you doing, petal?”

“I…Did you not do…that, because you wanted to make love?” you asked. 

Coriolanus shook his head. “I ate your cunt because I wanted to.” You looked away. He put two fingers under your chin, guiding your gaze back to him. “Were you only going to fuck me because you still think its your duty?”

You blinked up at him. “My mama said that a wife should make herself available for her husband.”

“That might be the case in her marriage, but it will not be in ours. I will only, as you say, make love to you if you want it as much as I do. I will not, I cannot, settle for anything less.”

“But, you’re a man.”

“So?”

“Aren’t men supposed to want these things?” you asked. “My mama said that men only care about their own pleasure. Why should it matter what I want?”

“Am I like other men, petal?”

“Well, no.”

“Then why should you think I would be like them in this regard?” Coriolanus paused. He sat up, resting on the backs of his legs. He took your hands, also pulling you into a sitting position. “Is this why you ran on our wedding night? Because you didn’t want me to force you?”

You looked away. He tried to chase after your gaze, but you were stubborn like an ox. “I didn’t know I could bleed from it. I thought…I thought laying with you had made me unable to discern pleasure from pain, and that terrified me.” 

“Oh, petal,” Coriolanus cooed. He pulled your head against his chest. You relaxed in his hold. “All women bleed from their first time. It has nothing to do with pain. Did I hurt you that night?”

“No.” Your voice was muffled against his chest. 

“I want you to tell me if I ever do. I only want to lay with you if you are enjoying it as much as I am. More than I am, preferably. ” Coriolanus titled your head up so that he may look into your eyes. “Do you understand? I…I will admit that I may have forced you into this marriage, to a degree, but I don’t want any part of your love, of your affection to be forced.”

Your eyes searched his. Oh, how he wished he could read your mind. He wished he could worm his way inside, figure out why you think the way you do. Had he not made his intentions with you clear? Had it not been so obvious that all Coriolanus wanted was your love? Perhaps he had spent too much time slithering his way to the top. Perhaps he forgot what it was like to show someone his hand. 

Coriolanus pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I love you, my pretty petal. You consume me. And I hope that, one day, I can consume you in the same way.”

You were silent for a long moment, your eyes still searching his. Were you trying to read his mind like he was for you? Were you trying to peel back the layers of his brain, trying to find some hidden deception? You wouldn’t. This was the most honest Coriolanus had been in a long time. “What if I told you, you already do?”

“Don’t say things you don’t mean, petal.”

“But I do mean it. You confuse my thoughts. I spend every moment trying to understand you. When I wake in the morning, I wonder how you’ll change my perception of you. When I go to bed, I let myself believe that you truly do love me. That it’s not all some façade you’ve crafted to marry a perfect Queen. When I dream, I let myself be that Queen.”

“Petal…”

“I don’t know that I can say I love you,” you admitted, “but you make me feel things I could never dream of feeling. You consume me. You say you burn for me…I don’t think I knew light until I began to know you, truly know you. If that’s love, I don’t know. But you have wormed your way inside me, and I don’t think I can ever let you out.”

Coriolanus combed his fingers through your hair. “Then don’t.”

You sucked in a breath, leaning into his hand. “I won’t, but only if you hold me.”

“Yeah?”

“I deprived you, us, of that on our wedding night. I don’t think I would like to do that again.”

“Whatever you wish for is yours.”

And as he laid back, and as you settled yourself in his arms, Coriolanus decided that this was the happiest he had ever been.