#male x male reader smut

[vampdes]

— “MISSIN’ THE PARTY.” [being a jock meant you were absolutely obligated to throw ragers at least once a week. but what happens when ethan just can’t get enough of you? you give him what he wants, of course!]

GENRE. smut.

PAIRING. ethan landry x m!reader.

CW. lowercase implied, cheating implied, jock!reader ( briefly mentioned / implied ), nervous!ethan, big dick!ethan, a lot of sexual fantasies ( ethan ), oral implied ( reader receiving ), top!ethan / bottom!reader.

NOTES. this coulda been better, ima be real, ive js been waitin to post this tho so ima js rip the bandaid off. enjoy! ⭐ ( @asukases )

it started simple, easy. he’d tutor you, congratulate you when you had gotten a problem right and easily correct you when you’d gotten a problem wrong.

obviously, you’d be rightfully confused and frustrated when he’d laugh at ‘how much of a book-like jock’ you are. nevertheless, the sessions went on and on and on. you learned more about him as time went on, as he did about you. well, he learned more about you because you’re rather talkative. you told him about the football team, even provided him with the practice schedule, you told him about your girlfriend, the head cheerleader for the football team, and about how difficult it was getting. you’d mainly tell him about her because you just couldn’t understand her.

“i don’t get it. like, i’m hot, i’m strong, i’m the literal definition of “everything a girl could ever need”, you know? all i want, every once in a while, mind you, is a little action, that’s it. even a quickie would work, for fucks sake!”, you wailed about your numerous ‘issues’ with your girlfriend as the two of you sat on the bleachers, watching as your captain directed the younger members of the team for being ‘incompetent players’.

you groaned in annoyance before returning to the main point of your conversation, “but, no. she still has to have so many excuses, like all i want is some fuckin’ sex. like bro, you don’t know how hard it’s been. it’s been seven months! seven! i can’t even sleep with any of the girls in the sorority down the road because they say it’s against their rules. eugh, i just don’t understand it.”. ethan’s eyebrows rose and his lips formed a small, slight grin numerous times during your very one-sided conversation regarding your relationship.

“no ‘cause, if i were a girl, i’d fuck me! mad sex too. i’d even fuck ..” you paused, biting the inside of your cheek as you thought of someone to consider fucking hypothetically, “.. you.” you smiled at ethan, letting out a loud laugh after you had watched his face morph into a flustered one. “i mean, hell, you’re .. somewhat fit, so why not, right?”.

ethan’s tongue slid over his lower, rose pink lip at the thought of fucking you as though you were a girl. the idea of getting you riled up, whimpering, moaning and begging for more of him was nothing but a feverish dream. his fingers stretching you, thrusting inside of you, touching the most sensational parts of you that you never dared to touch yourself. you’d be demanded to thrust on his fingers, to prep yourself on your own in order to fit all of him inside of you, and you’d hesitantly do so. your hips would start slow as though you were scared of how good you’d feel, but then, the feeling of you being able to have such a power over ethan would make you cave in. you’d become an animal and rut on his fingers as your teeth bit into the pillow beneath you. you never, ever knew you could feel so good.

“.. ethan? bro? practice is over, dude. we gotta get back to the dorm and get ready for the rager tonight.”

for fucks sake, you never knew how to shut up. it annoyed him so fucking much, just shut up for once, will you? if he had the chance, just a slight, slight chance, he’d put you in the place where you belonged: quivering beneath him with your wrists bound and cock sore.

but, “alright, lets go!” was all he could respond with. he didn’t want to lose his golden boy by scaring him off with his wild, erotic fantasies that only amplified when you’d strip in front of him, forcing him to shove a pillow on top of his already tight jeans.

by the time the two of you had made it to the dorm the two of you shared, it was well past party-time and you’d have to rush in order to get ready. ethan, on the other hand, wasn’t too keen on the idea of becoming so drunk to the point where he couldn’t even stand on his own ( aka what you did after he had to bring you back to campus after the last frat party you hosted ).

unfortunately, for him, the ideals from earlier were still playing like a movie inside of his mind. he couldn’t recall how many things he wanted to do to you, to do with you. oh god, fucking hell. you just didn’t know how hard you made him, how much you made him ache in the middle of the nights and in the dawn of the mornings. you made him whine, squeal, cry for more of you. more of you touch, of your taste, of your sound. more of you to cover with cum. more of you to mark with his numerous substances. fuck, please stop teasing him. he won’t be able to control himself, not tonight. especially not after the show you’re giving him at the moment.

that’s when you came out of your walk-in wardrobe and asked him what he thought of your shirt. you wore nothing but a slim, almost see through pair of boxers and a tight fitting shirt that rose over your belly button and squeezed around your chest. the fabric was so tight that it rubbed against your nipples every time you moved. “mm.. on second thought, nevermind. it’s rubbin’ me in all the wrong places, fuck, don’t think i can take it off by myself though. could you help me?”.

his eyes flitted away from your thighs and instead to your torso that was obviously visible through the shirt. wait—wait, you wanted help with taking off your shirt? the shirt that made you look so, so fucking good? obviously he had to oblige!

“c’mere, i’ll get it off for you.” he’ll do more than get it off of you. he’ll gladly get off on you.

you stood in front of him, obliging to his “eyes closed” request. “jus’ do it quickly, the party’s going to end soon.”. you felt the sharp tips of his fingernails scrap across your waist before he started to scale upwards, loving the feeling of the sides of your torso to your plump chest and perky nipples. “ethan! you’re ‘posed to be taking the shirt off!” you whined, “i wanna be in time for the party, c’mon!”.

ethan laughed, “fine, fine. just teasing you, love, just teasing.” he let out a huff of air as he gripped the ends of the said tight fitting t-shirt and started to tug at it. “what’re you doing? jus’ take it off!” you were starting to complain, so he did as you said, he ripped it. the thin seams tore easily, straight down the middle which produced the new idea for his next fantasy.

“oh well, that’s one way to get it off of me, i guess.”

before you could pull away to discard the now loosely fitting shirt, ethan hooked his arms around your waist and looked up at you with his perfected “puppy eyed” look. you placed your hand on top of his ruffled hair, sinking your fingers inside of his many curls. “what is it, hm? you want something, so jus’ tell me.”.

he squeezed you tighter, “can we do it?”.

“‘it’? you mean fucking?”.

“no, no! not—not that. i just .. want to feel you. please?”.

for fucks sake, just say yes already. he watched your face contort from an expression of confusion to shock. please, please say yes! you have to, please. he never asks for anything, he just wants to feel you! it’s a normal ask, no? you let your girlfriend do it! so why couldn’t he? your best friend since grade school, c’mon! please.

“fine, fuck. jus’—hah, jus’ don’t tell her about this, alright?”.

ethan became giddy as though he was celebrating his birthday twice a year, a smile adorning his features. he stood, intertwining your hands with his own before instructing you to lay on the bed that he had just stood from. to wich you obliged whilst reminding him he only had a few minutes to complete his desired feel for you before you had to leave for the party. he mumbled a ‘fine’ before helping you discard of the torn shirt, leaving you in only a pair of socks and your—rather tight—briefs.

ethan parted your legs, feeling from the underside of your thighs to the plushness of your hips. his jeans felt entirely too tight, he wanted to fuck you like a damn animal. ruthless. with no mercy. he wanted to make you cry only to shut you up. he wanted to make you shake, to make you wither beneath him with only the feverish feeling of him fucking you keeping you steady. he lefts your hips and trailed down to the brim of your briefs. the nail of his pointer finger trailed the outline of your cock, producing a quiet whimper to leave you lips.

“no, ethan—fuck–you can’t, you know you can’t.”

ethan only smiled, “but i can, no? you know how much you want me to blow you. fuckin’ hell, you say i do it better than your girl. c’mon, just once?”.

“ .. just once, alright? then, i’m leaving, swear.”

“fine, fine,” he responded in between the soft, slow kisses he pressed against the cloth of your briefs, “i’ll be quick, promise.”.

ethan being ‘quick’ soon turned into your face stuffed into a pillow and your nails burrowing themselves into the sheets. your many pleads for him to calm down, to stop acting as though he was an animal during its rut, fell on deaf ears. it was well past the time of the party, you realized, you could’ve been drinking, doing keg stands, but no, you had to give into his request.

ethan leaned into you, pressing his chest against your back whilst biting at your neck. he whispered your name. whiny, desperate, greedy.

“ffuck, oh fuck, you’re so good f’me, fuck ..”, his hips erratically chased his fifth orgasm of the night. his desire to see his cum spill from your swollen hole was more than enough to keep his fast, desperate rhythm. “c’mon—hah,” he raised himself from his current position, snapping his hips to delve himself deeper within you. ethan grabbed at your hair, forcing you to raise your head. “say it. say you’re a good fuckin’ slut for me.”

“m’such—ah!—m’such a good fuck–mm, ffuckin’ slut f’you! i am, i am, i am. ah, hah, fuck, wait, wait—i, oh god, i can’t! too .. too much, ethan!”.

your inconsistent babbles made his head spin. fuck, can his boy get any cuter?

he laughed at the thought. his long, slender fingers ran up your back before stopping at your lower lip, “open.” he commanded. “what? wh—”, in the middle of your sentence, he pushed two of his fingers inside of your mouth. a choked gag came from you, which amused him. even though his fingers were slim, they fit inside your mouth so well. ethan’s fingers laid still on tongue, his fingernails nipped at the back of your throat. such length provided him with muffled groans and moans from you.

his cock rubbed against the spots that provided you the most pleasure, making you cry out and grovel beneath him. saliva coated his fingers, tears covered your cheeks, and cum coated the cream colored sheers beneath you. ethan’s thick, sticky tip abused your prostate repeatedly making you cry out his name in incoherent moans with dilated pupils.

“i guess it is too much for you, mm.” he mumbled, rubbing his thumb on your sticky, pre-cum stained tip, feeling at how you twitched beneath him. you clenched around him as you came, which, in turn, made him fill your velvet insides with his copious amounts of cum. “ffuck, oh—ooh god,”, he whined, biting his lower lip as he slowly pulled out of you, watching as ropes of his cum covered your stomach that was beaded with sweat. ehan’s cum not only covered your stomach but also spilling out of your gaping, swollen hole. ethan watched intently, enjoying the sight before him.

with the party mindset far behind you, you missed the touch of his prying, groping hands on your body. “what? do you want more?” he mocked, watching as you whined for his hands to be all over you once more. “fine.” he smiled, his hands up and down your plush thighs, “just .. a few more times alright?”.

© CREDITS TO ur1nonlydan. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR COPY MY WORKS

[m4ng0-gh0st]

can you do a fic with sirius black and chubby msl reader smut preferably, and you can do anything for the plot

Sirius Black x Chubby Male reader

Content: Smut, praises, insecurity, oral (reader receiving)

Sirius absolutely loves every part of you and he makes damn sure to show it.

Here were you under Sirius as he kissed every inch of your body, your stomach, your chest, thighs, neck, shoulders, and lips. He was panting heavily with lust as he made damn sure you knew how much he loves you.

"Fuck you are gorgeous baby~" He says in a husky lustful voice. His hands then move down to unbutton and unzip your pants before removing them.

You were in a daze of pleasure and lust. Your eyes half lidded as a soft moan escapes you at the feeling of Sirius kissing you through your boxers. You knew what his goal was.

Earlier today someone made a joke about your body which for some reason really got to you. Sirius picked up on your uncomfortable energy pretty quickly and shut the person up immediately. Once you two were alone you were still bothered by the joke. So Sirius wanted to make you feel utterly gorgeous and he was determined.

"Look at me baby I wanna see your gorgeous face" He says as he slowly pulls down your boxers exposing your cock to the cold air.

You look down at him and your eyes almost roll back at the sight and feeling of Sirius giving a kitty lick to your tip. He grins and chuckles softly when you moan.

"There's that beautiful face" He says with a wide grin before he wraps his mouth around your cock and starts to bob his head. His hands gripping your beautiful chubby thighs as he did.

Fuck he is way too good at giving head. He may as well have no gag reflex and whenever he would gag he can easily brush it off.

He was bobbing his head with such passion. The feeling of him moaning around you cock and your cock hitting the back of his throat felt amazing to the point if had you throwing your head back and your hands intwined in his hair.

He removes his mouth but replaces it with his hand. "You gonna cum for me baby?" He asks with a lustful grin he could feel you twitching and he knew you were close

"I want you to use my mouth baby, use what's yours" He says before he wraps his mouth around you again in which you did what he said.

You gripped his hair and started to move his head and thrust into his mouth, fucking his mouth slowly as your eyes rolled back

Eventually you were starting to reach your climax by now you were fucking his mouth a little roughly but he didn't mind... He just wanted his beautiful lover to feel amazing...

Once you hit your climax he swallow it all not letting a drop spill. As you both take a minute he kisses your thighs...

"You still got some more in you baby?~" He asks softly with a devilish grin....

[wisecreatorprofessorwolf]

Such A Good Boy, Who's a Good boy.

I haven't written much recently. I've had a lot to deal with recently healthwise, I'm hoping to post a bit more often. Possibly during the week too.

todays post will be for Jeff Sadecki from Yellowjackets. I'm hoping to write a lot of stories about this babygirl and his fondest times with YN and their kinky adventures.

so this fic is inspired but an ask I sent anonymously to fortheb0ys, I'd recently gotten into Yellowjackets from reading their work, and I was quickly hooked

Now the thing about Jeff, was he didn't get to explore kinks or try new things in the bedroom with his ex wife Shauna, that was until he met YN.

Jeff learned that he was into a lot of different kinks. Jeff thinks about the time he tried Puppy play.

FLASHBACK

While YN was at his company meeting, Jeff knew YN hated company meetings of any kind so he decides he's going to try and make YN's day just a bit better. He wanders around their shared private property naked most of the time, because he's a good boy and wants to make his boyfriend happy.

he reaches a dark room containing some of their special collection of toys and gear, their growing collection ranging from the sex swings, to the floggers. Jeff reaches to dog hoods and dog tail dildos, he longs long and hard over each one, till he decides on the just a simple golden retriever eared headband, and the matching dildo, which was one of the thickest but Jeff wasn't worried about the stretch or pain, he liked it, especially YN's thickness.

Jeff slides the toy in with ease and sits the headband on his head.

Now Jeff waits eagerly on his hands and knees. once YN arrives he instantly perks up at the sight before him. Jeff cutely waiting for him.

"Awww what a good boy" Jeff taps his hands on the ground and woofs. suddenly preening and howling when YN's hand strokes his hair.

"Who's my good boy?" Jeff intantly barks and nestles his head against YN's thigh " YN begins to walk towards the couch loosening his tie as Jeff follows and sits between YN's legs, head resting on YN's thigh as they lock eyes.

"bad day at work pup, but you always make it better baby" YN leans down to kiss Jeffs forehead then tilts his head up to kiss his lips. The kiss was messy and passionate as Jeff lapped up the attention. As the kiss parts YN shows Jeff the tie all Jeff did was nod furiously, knowing were this was going.

"Ok pup now for the collar" YN wraps his tie round Jeffs neck, Jeff suddenly buries his face in YN's pants lapping at the bulge.

"What a good boy, you know exactly what to do don't ya?" Jeff nods against YN's bulge "Ok pup you can have ya treat just let me remove my pants." Jeff ignores YN and grips the zipper between his teeth and drags it down looking directly into YN's lust blown eyes, with that YN removed his pants, Jeff slid them away. All that was left were the underwear, Jeff rubbed his face all over the heated fabric inhaling YN's scent, that raw musk was like a drug to him. Jeff begins pawing over YN's underwear "Ok i get the hint baby I'm removing them now" and with that YN removed them finally YN. Jeff finally had access to his treat he began with featherlight licks over the prominent vein and licked up to the tip, licking over the slit, taste buds bursting with the sweet and salty taste of YN's precum. Jeff's eyes almost roll at the taste, licking harder till with out warning suddenly swallows YNs cock whole lips stretched around YN's thick hardness, tongue twisting and flicking over the sensitive appendage lapping every drop of pre that is released.

YN's hands stroke Jeffs hair from his face "Such a good boy, your my good boy" Jeffs eyes roll back as YN begins face fucking him moaning and gagging around YN's cock, till tears pricked his eyes, Jeff enjoys this the strain of his jaw as he gets used like a toy. soon drool is just leaking from the seams of Jeff's lips, all of a sudden Jeff's head is held down all the way and feels a thickness explode as he's raised up that is when he fully tastes that sweet tangy cum he's become addicted to, filling his mouth, shooting rope after rope over his tongue, Jeff's eye roll yet again from the taste alone, there really nothing quite like it. jeff settles with the tip of YN's cock in his mouth licking over it, cleaning it. YN strokes Jeffs sweaty hair and removes the headband "You're such a good boy Jeff" Jeff whines when YN removes the headband "It's ok puppy you're my good boy ill put it back on now" which YN does to Jeff's relief, he then pulls away from YN's cock and turns away and lowers his head and raises his his ass presenting himself. With that YN felt himself harden, all that could be heard were Jeffs moans and whines as he shakes his ass.

Till YN's larges hands hold him in place, massaging Jeff's ass watching as his hole is sucking the dildo, with a firm tug YN removes the toy without warning causing Jeff to cum across the floor with a whorish moan, Jeff looks over his shoulder to see YN's dark predatory eyes boring into his body like he was prey, he quickly looks away as YN stares intently on Jeffs pucker twitching and fluttering as he breathes, suddenly Jeff moans when he feels YN's tongue over his entrance the wetness of YN's tongue as it glides over the rim and into his puckering hole caused Jeff to throw his hands back over YN's head. YN remained in Jeffs grip using Jeff's moans as guidance.

YN tapped Jeffs hands to release him, Jeff's hole now with a slick shine to it was more than ready for YN's cock, with that in mind YN gave himself a few extra tugs. Slowly YN slides his cock inside Jeff, causing him to throw his hips back on YN's cock, moaning desperately, wanting more. YN began to pick up the pace and increasing the roughness meeting Jeffs trust backs.

all that could be heard were moans, panting and skin slapping, Jeff almost choked as his head his pulled up by the tie he almost forgot he was wearing. How could he forget the tie YN wrapped round him as a leash. Jeff chocked being raised up to meet the hot chest of YN feeling YN lick, suck and bite his sensitive neck, he turns to heatedly kiss YN their heated passion boiling over it was all so much, that Jeff came again causing a small puddle to have formed on the floor. As the kiss breaks YN bites harshly into Jeff's neck causing a faint metalic taste of blood to hit his tongue but Jeff suddenly tightens up milking YN for all he had as hot thickness fills him to the brim.

YN slowly kisses the bite " you are such are good boy Jeff, Who's a good boy?" Jeff face down tilts his head to look at YN " Woof I'm the good boy" with that YN gives Jeff's ass a light spank and pulls his cock out to the mesmerizing sight of Jeff's gaped cream filled hole.

Jeff whines suddenly from the emptiness but also when YN lifts him about effortlessly to the couch, YN sensed this times like this Jeff wanted to stay in the moment as long as possible so he sat down and lowered Jeff's loose dripping hole down on to his cock causing Jeff to moan and nuzzle closer to YN's heated body. Snug and plugged with YN.

Feel free to like, repost and leave comments.

if you would like to suggest any kinks you want me to write for this babygirl leave them in the comments, I have a few in mind already but I'll happily take some suggestions too.

[bloodyboi]

[hurlingdown]

‎        ★ ❛ HOT DEMON B!TCHES NEAR U ! ! ! ❜

synopsis. getting two sex-addicted hot demon bitches as your roommates wasn't exactly part of the contract, but they might just be the second best part of it. oh. and the best part? they are utterly, uncontrollably obsessed with you. wc. 5.3k

tags. top master! reader, bottom succubi! gojo & geto. reader has a cock. hardcore dom/sub. mean dom! reader, masochistic! gojo. threesome, womb tattoos, breeding kink, creampie(s), rimming, face-sitting, rough anal sex, multiple orgasms, riding, blowjob, male squirting, spanking, dacryphilia, somnophilia (slight dub-con), slut-shaming, degradation, praise kink, voyeurism, jealousy, felching, yandere! gojo undertones, aphrodisiacs, both of them are whiny, needy and hungry for your cock.

a/n. this might just be the filthiest thing i've ever written. do enjoy <3

In hindsight, you really, really should have known that your two roommates were promiscuous, sex-obsessed freaks before moving in with them. No, scratch that. You should have long known that they weren’t even entirely. . . human. 

Not that they were exactly being subtle with it. Once, you had walked in on Satoru naked in the middle of ‘certain peculiar activities’ with his door half-open, wings, tail and dark pink womb tattoo on full display, stretching across the expanse of his lower abdomen in obscene heart-shaped swirls. You were taken aback at first, sure, but you weren’t mean with it, even offering to keep his identity a secret—and he had taken your politeness for something more. 

Now, he didn’t even bother to hide it anymore. In point of fact, he flaunted it. 

Satoru would curl his tail around your thigh playfully whenever he would walk past you in the house, stretching his horned fuchsia wings while shooting you a sultry over-the-shoulder glance whenever you were behind him, even purposefully wearing shirts a size too small around you so that the fabric would ride above his waist whenever he had to ‘stretch’ or reach for something—perfectly showing off his pretty womb tattoo. 

It drove you insane with desire. And if that wasn’t bad enough for you, Satoru’s best friend, who also happened to be a succubus and your other roommate—Suguru, decided that the white-haired succubus accidentally outing himself was his cue to start courting you. 

You didn’t even know that succubi courted. You supposed there was always a first for everything. 

Suguru was far from being openly vulgar like Satoru was, but just as indicative of his wants. And that happened to be you. With long black hair, dark wings and a sharp, swift tail of the same colour, he was eerily gorgeous. He took his sweet time courting you, laying blooming red peonies all over your bed that worked as aphrodisiacs, spending his weekends making you wine-flavoured chocolates in the shape of hearts, hoping to get you drunk and all to himself. You would also constantly find missing pieces of clothing from the underwear section of your wardrobe, the distinctive mouth-watering scent of an aroused succubus left behind in their stead. 

Satoru and Suguru were beautiful in a way that most things were—poisonous and addictive. You had told yourself that you wouldn’t get swayed by their honeyed façade and fall into their trap. You had told yourself, but. . . 

The last thing you expected to wake up to was a wet, searing mouth on your hard cock. 

You groaned, shuddering as mind-numbing pleasure wracked through your body in overwhelming waves, reaching out blindly to hold onto something before it consumed you—fingers digging into the sheets so hard you heard it rip. You couldn’t explain why or how it felt so good, the pleasure almost other-worldly—the sensation of an incredibly soft tongue licking up your length, dragging a trail of heat and drool on sensitive skin. The air smelt sweet, like roses and cherries, the sharp sting of arousal zipping up your spine as you took a deep whiff. 

“D-does it feel good, master?” a voice panted, whined, “am I doing good for you?” 

You looked down to find two teary, dilated blue eyes staring up at you, and two you knew very well. “Satoru,” you managed, fighting down a shiver as his hot breaths smothered your shaft with unbearable warmth. Everything felt fuzzy and smelt too sweet, like someone had sprayed intoxicating perfume in your bedroom a thousand times over. “What the hell are you doing here?” 

He gripped your cock tighter with a pout, like he was worried that you would take away his favourite toy. “I just… I just thought I could make you f-feel better. Some de-stressing after a hard day, y’know?” He sighed, rubbing his cheek against your spit-soaked length, raised tail quivering behind him, shyly curling forward to show off the heart-shaped end of it. 

You couldn’t help but look. Satoru was dressed in a satin white shrug shirt that fully exposed his plump chest while allowing his wings to stretch out prettily, and you followed the tempting curves of his toned torso down to where his womb tattoo was pulsing and glowing red, as though showing off that he was eager to be bred. He was wearing the sluttiest, tiniest pair of lingerie underwear that barely covered his ass, the cute bulge of his cock visible from the front, his weeping cockhead poking out, strapped to his stomach. His outfit gave you the perfect glimpse of his soft milky thighs, before the rest was obscured by cream lace stockings that hugged his legs perfectly, leaving you wanting more. 

Sweet Lord. If this wasn’t heaven, you couldn’t even begin to imagine what heaven would be like. 

The succubus trembled under your scrutinizing, squeezing his thighs together as though he wanted to hide the evidence of his arousal. “A-are you done looking?” he mumbled, glancing at you through his lashes. “Can I continue? Please, I’ve been so good and you know it.” You could’ve sworn you saw his pupils dilate even more when his gaze returned to your erect cock, a line of drool running down his chin as his throat bobbed, as though he were imagining what it would feel like to swallow your cum. 

“Hold on,” you breathed, carding your hand through his soft hair to gently stop him from getting closer to your crotch. “Does Suguru know about this?” 

Satoru’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, his pout fading into something more. . . wary. “No,” he said, quietly. “He doesn’t.” 

“I’d thought so. Suguru wouldn’t—” 

“Stop talking about Suguru,” he whined, like he was actually hurt over this. “Suguru’s not about to suck your cock.” 

You frowned. And what gave him the right to sneak into your room and do blasphemous things to your body while you were sleeping, then? You tightened your grip on his hair, just enough to make him let out a low, pitiful whimper. “And you’re going to be the one to do it, then, Satoru?” 

His eyes widened like a guilty child. 

“I’m impressed,” you scorned, “You actually think you deserve it.” 

Satoru bit his lip, as though he was turned on by your sudden change in behaviour. “I… Master, please. I-I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. I’ve been asking for it for ages, I just couldn’t wait anymore—I needed you so bad. Please let me make it up to you. Please, please,” he stammered, hands grasping your knees and thighs in almost desperation while looking up at you with a forlorn expression. 

You looked at him, steering your expression into something like a leer. 

“You want to make it up to me? Is that so?” You pretended to think, scratching your nails lightly against his scalp, and he moaned softly, leaning into your touch. “Fine. Get on the bed.” 

The succubus clambered onto the bed clumsily, settling on all fours as he looked at you over his shoulder with a deep flush, tail quivering with arousal. “L-like this?” 

“Yeah, that’s perfect,” you muttered, hands coming to rest on each of his asscheeks, kneading the flesh softly. Satoru whined, back pressing into an arch as he pushed his rump towards you, eager to please. “So, tell me, Satoru. I’m curious. What makes. . . a good slut?” 

“S-someone who listens to orders,” he replied, obediently. 

“That’s correct.” You whistled, hooking two fingers over the waistband of his underwear, slowly sliding it down to his knees until you completely exposed his leaking cock and hole, the latter clenching and dripping with… slick, like a pussy would. You went back to playing with his ass, ignoring it for the time being. “And does a good slut ever talk back to their master?” 

“No,” he whimpered. 

“What about,” you began, stroking his sensitive inner thighs, “taking what they want without permission?” 

“No,” he repeated, biting back a whine as a slow sense of dread filled him. “That’s what… that’s what n-naughty sluts do.” The words sounded strangely obscene in his mouth, and he flushed, ears turning red. 

“Very good,” you praised. “Last question, Satoru. You’ve answered every question perfectly so far—this one will be easy.” You flashed him a vicious smile, taking great pleasure in his ordeal. “Do you think naughty sluts deserve to be punished?” 

The succubus shivered in both fear and anticipation, swallowing harshly. “Y-yes,” he whispered. “They do.” 

Satoru didn’t even have time to beg for mercy because your hand fell hard on his ass, the force of it sending a loud smack echoing across the room, making him jerk forward with a pleasured cry. 

The pain was electric, and so was the pleasure, a white-hot burn curling in his lower stomach as his cock gave a violent lurch—Satoru doesn’t think he has ever felt pleasure this good before in all his years of being a sex demon. You were a hard hitter too. The skin on his ass stung pleasantly, and he moaned out loud at the thought of you slapping his ass again and again until your handprint was burnt into his flesh, wanting more already. 

“You really are a slut,” you whispered, almost in awe. 

“Please,” he whined. He would take anything you were going to give him—praise or punishment. He was yours. 

You gently massaged the bruised area on his ass, leaning down to give it a tender kiss. “Turn around for me, baby.” You opted for a softer tone, trying to coax him into letting you see his face after the harsh treatment. You couldn’t believe you ever thought that he was the danger here. Things were turning out in the most perfect way, you would believe it was a dream if not for how solid Satoru felt under your touch. 

Satoru parted his lips, as though he wanted to argue—but quickly remembered your words. The pain was good, incredibly good, but it was also fleeting. If this was his first and last chance with you, then he would make the pleasure last. 

He flipped over on his back, removing his underwear and quietly spreading his shaky legs for you. His cock gave a weak twitch as your gaze swept across his body with interest, letting a low whine. 

“Good boy, Satoru,” you muttered, eyes zeroing in on the heart-shaped swirls of his pulsing womb tattoo. Admittedly, you had looked it up on the internet and found out all sorts of things about succubi, terms that ranged from ‘breeding’ and ‘fertility’ to ‘cum-addiction’, and you couldn’t wait to experiment them on him. “Gonna open you up now.” 

You rubbed your fingers against his soft and wet entrance, slathering them in his slick, before starting to push two in, just to be mean. The succubus was already panting, mindlessly arching his back and pushing against your fingers. “Hah… Master… please, more…” 

“More what? Tell me what you want, Satoru.” 

Satoru let out a lewd cry as you rubbed at his sensitive walls, hips jerking. “P-Please!” he squeaked. “Want your cum… inside my womb.” 

You could feel a sadistic smile pulling at your lips. So this was his true objective. To be bred like a cockslut—no, an animal. An animal bound by divine instruction to reproduce again and again and again, brainlessly offering up its holes to be filled with semen until its belly swells with the early stages of pregnancy. Perhaps the rumours about succubi on the internet were true, after all. 

You weren’t going to give him what he wanted so easily, though. You weren’t that nice—he hasn’t earned it yet. 

“Greedy,” you settled for a simple comment, leer morphing into something more innocent. You made sure to crook your fingers at a certain angle while pumping them in and out of his drooling hole, searching for the spot that made his toes curl and back arch, a filthy wail forcing his lips to part. “You sure you can handle that, baby?” 

“Y-yeah,” Satoru moaned, “Breed me… please. Wanna carry master’s children.” 

His womb tattoo glowed brighter, scorching hot underneath your touch. Satoru looked fucked out already and the night was still young, lidded eyes unfocused and glassy while he continued to grind down against your fingers, as though searching for something wider, thicker, deeper. 

“Slut,” you snarled, and the word was barely fitting for how the succubus was acting. You pulled your fingers out, the emptiness making him ache. He gave a loud whine, his hips giving a desperate buck into the empty air, neglected cock red and hard, smearing pre-cum all over his womb tattoo. 

“‘m your good slut,” he babbled, slurred for how drunk and stupid he sounded. You were sure anyone standing outside your bedroom would hear him with how loud he was being. 

His mouth felt empty, you decided. A little too empty. You hooked a thumb into the stretchy side of his mouth before rubbing your fingers on his bottom lip, and he gave a soft keen, parting his lips for you to slide them inside, before lightly sucking on them—tasting his own juices. 

“If you keep this up,” you warned, “Suguru will hear. You don’t want him hearing me making you scream, do you, Satoru? Or are you more of a pervert than I thought?” 

“No,” he said, muffled by your fingers stuffing his mouth full, tears dribbling down his cheeks. 

“Good sluts don’t talk with their mouth full,” you reminded him, gently brushing away his tears. 

He shook his head quickly, whining. Satoru didn’t like to share, and you knew that. You were his bond, his human. You didn’t need another succubus. Right? 

You bit down a smile at his blatant jealousy, pretending not to notice the presence right outside your room, the rustle of fabric unmistakable—barely covered by Satoru’s loud whimpers. It was a little too early to reveal it, with how both of them were enjoying themselves. You would indulge them a little longer. 

You coated your fingers with his spit generously before pulling them out, a string of drool connecting the two, before reaching down and unceremoniously plugging them back into his needy hole. Satoru yelped, trying to snap his thighs shut at the sudden intrusion, and you took the opportunity to guide them to wrap around your waist. He flushed, stammering out an apology, but you wouldn’t miss this chance to tease him. 

“Look at you, Satoru.” You continued to scissor him, occasionally pulling out to slather your cock with his sweet-smelling slick. “I haven’t even put it in yet, and here you are, drooling like we’ve been at it all night. Messy cockslut.” 

“Your cockslut,” he whimpered, and it sharpened into a keen when you slowly drove forward to dip the head of your cock in his hole. It clenched around you greedily, and it felt incredible even with only the tip in, soft and wet and hungry, warmth oozing into you, making you burn with desire. What was even more incredible was the fact that Satoru was crying, tears spilling over red, flushed cheeks as he struggled to stay still for you, wanting to please, wanting forgiveness. “Hnngh… master…” 

He was right. Satoru was your cockslut. 

You leaned down to caress his wet cheek, the action only causing your cock to nudge deeper inside, the warm tightness nearly sending you into overdrive—making you moan. You had never been inside a hole this heavenly before. The snug stretch around your girth was insane, and if that wasn’t enough, his hole kept on fluttering and clenching around you, making delicious sensations bleed into you. 

So the myths were true, after all—succubi were demons crafted for the sake of providing pleasure. 

Your vision was growing hazy with lust, the heat in your belly growing. The pleasure was almost too much—but you held on. You would drain him before he drained you. 

Grabbing him by the thick of his hips, you buried yourself to the hilt in one go, and Satoru let out a wrecked cry, fingers bunching up the sheets at the sudden stimulation. His womb tattoo sizzled and pulsed obscenely, and you reached down to gently press your palm against it, making him whimper loudly. 

You didn’t know if you would be able to hold it in for much longer—with how the poor thing was squirming on your cock, sweet slick coating your cock with every thrust in and drive out, the carnal smell of it all making your appetite grow tenfold, making you want to strip him of all dignity and devour. 

“Satoru,” you murmured, thrusting forward, and he answered with a keening wail of your name. “It seems like… we have a rather eager spectator. Should we invite him inside?” 

“Wh-what…” Satoru said dumbly, whines interrupting his words as his eyes struggled to focus. “Spectator…?” 

“Yeah.” You grinned as he realised who you were talking about, stiffening and shaking his head with a cry. He wanted to have you all to himself for a little longer… you haven’t even cum inside him yet. This wasn’t fair. “Let’s see if he’s just as much of a cock-hungry slut as you are, mm?” 

You turned your head to the door. “Suguru. Come in.” 

The door hesitantly creaked open, and Suguru stepped inside. Immediately, the sweetness of aroused succubi intensified in the room, a clash between Satoru’s sugary scent and Suguru’s honeyed one making you dizzy with want. 

“Master,” Suguru swallowed, a red flush on his cheeks. He was dressed in a revealing dark purple night-robe, a ravishing complement to the long, black hair that cascaded down his shoulders. He looked at the two of you calmly, but you didn’t fail to notice the shine between his thighs, giving away how bothered he really was. “How long have you known?” 

“Quite a while. Get on the bed and prepare yourself,” you ordered, turning back to the other succubus who was currently grinding himself senseless on your cock, little whines and pleas plucked out with each desperate roll of his hips. “I’ll deal with you after I’m done with Satoru.” 

Suguru listened obediently, laying down on the bed on his back, night robe gracefully falling open to reveal his purple womb tattoo, already throbbing and glowing with heat and need. He reached down between his parted thighs, rubbing and pleasuring his hole while watching the two of you, soaking the mattress with how much slick he was producing. 

You turned back to Satoru, the sight of his red, crying face sending a jolt of heat straight into your abdomen. “What?” You grinned, gripping his waist and starting to thrust into his tight heat again. “I did warn you.” 

“S-so mean,” he sobbed, arching his back at the pleasure. He was whimpering again, warm walls hugging your length firmly every time you drove in, and you could tell he was getting close again, had been close before you had so cruelly stopped to indulge someone else. Satoru turned his head to look at the other succubus, their simultaneous pants and whines serving to make each other even more aroused, Satoru’s slick drenching your cock while Suguru’s messily dribbled all over his hand, obscene squelching noises like heavenly music to your ears. 

“Gonna cum,” you announced, and both of them answered you with needy, high-pitched whines, Suguru fingering himself to your thrusts while Satoru laid there, moaning and sobbing, reduced to nothing but a pliable body made to take and take and take. 

The latter blinked up at you with glossy eyes, tears dotting on his lashes and crying out lewdly while you continued to pound into him like a rabid animal. Satoru loved it, how rough and careless you were treating him, your gentle hands telling a different story as they caressed his face, the contrast of pain and pleasure making him shiver. No one had been able to satisfy him like this before. You were perfect for him. 

“Please… your cum…” he pleaded, laying a hand on his pulsating womb tattoo, begging for you to fulfil his only purpose in life—to be filled and bred like the dumb slut he was. “I w-want it inside…” 

You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, his warm hole sucking you deeper in with every flutter, every clench, showering you in waves of stimulation to the point where it teetered between pleasure and pain. Just when stars began to float across your vision in hazy swirls, a sign that you were close to orgasm, you pulled out hastily, ignoring Satoru’s desperate, keening sob, yanking Suguru towards you by the hips before roughly plunging your cock into his needy hole. 

The startled moan that you pulled out from the other succubus was enough to drive you to the peak of your arousal, and you thrust a few more times before spilling into warm wetness with a loud, guttural groan. 

When you came to be, there were two kinds of noises rebounding in the room—Satoru’s cries and Suguru’s whines. 

“Master!” Satoru sobbed, bucking his hips into empty air as tears messily dripped down his face. 

“M-master,” Suguru whimpered, drooling and panting, stuffed so full of cum and cock he could barely speak. 

You moaned as you drew out from Suguru’s heat, watching as cum dribbled out from his puffy hole and onto the soaked mattress—and he let out a soft, needy whine, plugging two fingers inside himself to stop anything more from leaking out, as though to replace the fullness that he had felt before. You watched as he lay there shivering weakly, glowing womb tattoo tainted with streaks of white, and you realised that he had come just from you releasing inside him. 

You swallowed, feeling your cock fill out again. Suguru really was a good slut. Perfect, even. 

“Master…!” Satoru cried out again, gaze lingering on you and Suguru with an expression that could only be described as heartbroken, and you would feel sorry for him, if not for you catching sight of the softening cock resting against his heaving abdomen. The perverted thing had orgasmed from watching you cum inside someone else. If that wasn’t a sight. 

“I never promised you anything, Satoru.” You looked down at the mess you had created, smiling innocently. “Plus, Suguru’s a far better slut than you are, don’t you think? After all, he waited patiently for his turn to be bred, unlike you.” You slumped down onto the bed with a heavy sigh, turning to Suguru and patting your lap. “Sit on my cock, baby.” 

Suguru rubbed at his eyes, compliantly trudging over and straddling your waist, the length of your cock rubbing lewdly between his cheeks. He bit his lip, raising his hips until the tip of it nudged against his sore hole, the growing stretch more pleasurable than anything. Your cum turned out to be the perfect lubricant, and the intrusion was met with little resistance, allowing him to slowly sink down with a hungry whine. 

“F-feels so goood,” he slurred, his eyes rolling back as you bottomed out, making the both of you moan. He mindlessly rubbed at his stomach, right above his womb, where you had gifted him a baby. 

“See?” You looked at Satoru lazily, the poor thing watching in a mixture of arousal and frustration. “Suguru’s been so good for me. What have you done?” 

Satoru wanted to cry again at your demeaning tone. This was too much. You were being so mean to him, when he was trying his best to atone for his wrongdoings! He didn’t deserve this treatment, not one bit. If Suguru gets a baby, then he should get one, too. 

“I’m s-sorry,” he snivelled weakly. “Please, master… I promise I won’t ever misbehave again. I’ll be a good slut… I’ll do anything you want.” 

You smiled. “Anything I want?” 

He nodded, desperate. 

“Sit on my face and I’ll think about it.” 

Satoru wanted to protest, yank Suguru off your cock and ride it himself until you spurted heavy into his womb, showing you that he could please you just as much as the other succubus did, maybe even more. You were his, and naturally, your pleasure belonged to him as well. Suguru might be his best friend, but that didn’t mean Satoru liked to share his toys with him. But. . . if this was his last shot at gaining your forgiveness, then he would do whatever it takes to please you, even if it meant suppressing his needs for the time being. 

He scrambled over to where you were lying, carefully placing one knee on each side of your face, trembling with effort as he slowly lowered himself onto your face. He let out a soft, whiny keen as his position pressed his hole directly against your parted lips, and he struggled not to rut against your face—holding himself back from chasing after the addictive pleasure. 

You gently lifted him by the hips to breathe, before pressing a light kiss to the twitching hole. Licking around Satoru’s swollen rim in an attempt to loosen him up, you rolled your hips up into the welcoming warmth of the other succubus, jolting out an erotic moan. 

“You can start riding me, Suguru,” you muttered, closing your eyes and letting out a drawn-out moan as he gave a filthy clench around your length at the mention of his name. “Don’t hold back.” 

“Yes, master,” Suguru whined, rolling his hips against yours in smooth, circular motions, and you could feel the slick leaking out from his hole, smothering your length with the abundance of it, sweet and sleek and thick. The succubus rode you like he was made to do it, his cock slapping against his womb tattoo messily with every bounce, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure—letting out a stream of whimpers and pleas while his hole fluttered around you tirelessly, trying to get you to cum inside him a second time. 

You returned to your task at hand—giving a broad lick over Satoru’s dripping hole to gather some of his slick on your tongue, making him sob out a whine. It was sweet and intoxicating, addictive flavour melting in your mouth like sugar, and you couldn’t get enough—shoving your entire tongue into him before eating him out in earnest. 

And sweet lord, did he taste good. He was squeezing around you deliciously, releasing so much slick that it dripped all over your chin and down the column of your throat, making a mess. It drove you crazy. Before you knew it, you were making animalistic noises against his swollen entrance as you made love to it with your tongue, the vibrations making him croon with pleasure. And by now, you were sure that succubi slick had aphrodisiac effects, because with every mouthful that you swallowed, you found it harder and harder to control yourself, wanting to just give in to your arousal and take. 

“Please,” Satoru was sobbing loudly, feeling wet and loose and dirty, thighs trembling with little restraint as you lifted him up and down your tongue with ease, reaching so deep one would think you were trying to plunder his soul. “Gonna… gonna cum already…” 

“M-me too,” Suguru chimed in with a moan, hips growing wearier with every lift, his impending orgasm making him weak, the fullness of cock giving him the illusion of heaviness, and he held his belly as though he were pregnant already. 

You continued to pleasure the both of them the best you could, tongue curling inside Satoru with precision to press against his sweet spot until he was shaking and whimpering with overstimulation—while rolling your hips up to meet Suguru’s, feeling him needily clench around you every time you rammed up just right. 

You could feel yourself getting closer as well, the noises that your two obscene lovers were making serving to turn you on even more. Combined with the sinful pressure of Satoru’s sopping hole clenching around your tongue and the searing tightness of Suguru jumping on your cock, this was practically heaven. 

Reaching over to grip Suguru’s hips, you thrust up repeatedly into his tight warmth, leaving the other to ride your tongue on his own. You groaned your pleasure into Satoru’s hole, and the succubus answered with a keening cry of “Master!”, grinding down against your face with wild abandon. Both of their womb tattoos were glowing brighter than ever, screaming at you to breed them, take them, devour them—and you did just that. 

You rammed your hips up with a muffled shout, gripping Suguru’s waist so tightly you were sure it would leave dark bruises for days to come—unloading everything into his womb for the second time tonight—your seed, your love, your legacy. Suguru cried out loudly at the feeling of your cum filling him up, shuddering as his cock squirted all over the three of you—his stomach, your chest, Satoru’s back—while Satoru clenched around your tongue so tightly as his orgasm crashed over him like a hurricane, cumming all over your face and the mattress with a hoarse scream. 

You gasped for breath the moment Satoru slid off your face and collapsed onto the bed, panting heavily, black spots swirling heavily in your vision—the aftermath of the most intense orgasm you’ve had in your entire life. Succubi—no, your succubi really were something. 

Suguru was too tired to even protest as your softening cock slid out from his sheath, dragging out a trail of slick and cum. Yawning, he shifted to lay on the bed on his stomach, mumbling “Thank you, master,” before his eyes drooped shut in exhaustion. You watched him fondly, reaching out to card a hand through his silky hair, before a soft, almost petulant whine caught your attention. 

Satoru was glaring at the other succubus with jealousy. Sure, he had gotten a mind-blowing orgasm out of it, but he wanted you filling him up until he felt bloated with your cum, wanted to be bred. 

You let out an amused laugh. “You want my cum that bad?” 

He nodded his head frantically. 

“Well, then…” You turned to where Suguru had fallen asleep, cum trickling out of his asshole and sliding down his perineum steadily. You guess it would be somewhat of a waste to just leave him be. “Since Suguru took your share for the night. . . there you go. Have a taste.” 

Satoru’s face was slightly pale when you turned back to look at him, a sick grin stretching at your lips. He didn’t question you, however, quietly crawling over until he was kneeling between Suguru’s legs. His heart was pounding, your words earlier that night replaying in his head again and again like mantra—a good slut listens to orders. 

Making eye contact with you, he poked his tongue out, slowly leaning down before giving the excess cum a tentative lick. . . and swallowed. 

You were sure those were hearts exploding in his eyes. 

kinktober masterlist! masterlist!

[simonsrileyhusband]

simon and reader who has a hard time sleeping (nsfw):

simon wakes up when he hears you turning around, slipping away from his arms.

"go back to sleep love..." he mumbles, his voice deeper than usual, big hands reaching out for your waist, pulling you into his arms again.

"i can't..." you whisper, turning around and burying your face in his chest, a bit sad that you woke him up.

simon knows the drill, he has done this countless times before and he will gladly do it over and over again.

gently, he turns around so your back lays kn the bed, his bulky arms keeping you caged under him. "i'll take care of that lovie, don't worry"

and that night can go different ways, simon pounding you until you are tired, simon esting you out until you pass out, simon using his fingers as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear.

the list goes on, but when he is done, you are sleeping soundly in his arms, inner thighs soaked, a pretty blush on your cheeks and a soft smile on your lips.

[starboye]

imagine drunk dancing on olderbf!simon in a bar after you told him you wouldn't get to drunk, now rocking your ass on his crotch and begging him to take you to bathroom and fuck you like he's mad at you, but he couldn't possibly treat you like that (while drunk that is because any other day he would do that in a heart beat)

so seeing as you're not going to let up about this whole fucking you dirty in the bathroom he gets a better idea, taking you out the back door to some more private alley and pulling out his cock, stopping you just before you dropped to you knees and placing your hand around his thick shaft

basically giving you permission to jerk him off to satisfy your lusty needs, your hand starting off slowly and speeding up until you had simon panting and whimpering outside the bar, and at this point you've milked a load or two out of him and he's trying to get you to stop

his thick hand wrapped around your wrist trying to stop you but he looks to good moaning and begging so what would be the harm in pulling out one or two more

[skyrigel]

Everyone who knew Simon thought him out to be a freak who didn't like to be touched, or talked to, or even looked at.

It was only you who knew how much of a starved bastard he was.

He's always touching you, personal space was crumbled up like a tissue ball and thrown in the trash while Simon was with you.

His hands would mindlessly find you, but with adoration of every atom of his soul, to scratch at your scalp and murmur sweet words, to coil your hair between his fingers, watching your strands slip and tugging them to earn a fond frown, his lips gliding on your warm skin, mouthing and biting and sucking. The simple joy of your hand in his. Big palm resting over your thigh before he begins to grope you in the middle of the movie.

 How at nights there would be huge weight lunged over you, arms wrapped around as if you would be taken up by a ghost. Sweet kisses places all over your face as soon as he would wake up. 

Simon who wouldn't utter a word when outside but the moment he's alone with you, that man would never stop. His eyes that were rumoured to be soulless would light up like brilliant stars, and he'll talk and talk, smiling and fondling, hands shooting up in gestures, in tales of Afghanistan and dubai. He jokes and makes you laugh until your eyes crinkled, and moistened while your stomach does swoops around in anticipated giddiness that takes over both of you in each other's presence. That's your man.

And oh lord, how much he wants to be seen, only by you.

Even after years of being together, Simon would take pride in trying to seduce you. He would walk out of the shower with his huge biceps on display, as water would slide down in tiney drops — towel wrapped lowely around his waist, his navel where a rush of hair darker than his roots disappeared, and the smug look he would have. And in the way he would make you look at him while shooting ropes of cum inside you, eyes lost in eyes, seen. Or the way Simon would look up with dazed eyes when he's home between your legs. 

Because he wants to be seen in a way that makes you all his, and him all yours.

Masterlist

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: implied noncon, break-up, toxic relationship, crazy ex-boyfriend, intrusive thoughts, anger issues

♡ FEM reader

Thinking about gamer boyfriend who doesn’t know what he has before it’s gone…

You told him you were leaving, but it didn’t dawn on him that’s what you’d meant. He was deep in-game—he couldn't pay attention to your whining. He figured you went out to the store or something, but later, after midnight, he realized he was hungry, and you were nowhere. Not in the kitchen making dinner, not in his bed sleeping, and not in the bathroom either. 

Did you go home? He wonders, standing alone in the dark, empty silence—feeling a little put off at the sight of his room—how even in the dim light, it’s a clear fucking mess. You usually tidy up a bit for him, but you hadn’t this time—no, there’s old underwear and socks everywhere, shirts and hoodies too, empty cans and pizza boxes. It’s a bit gross, actually, he admits while scratching his neck. 

The drawer he’d dedicated to you in his dresser is open and empty. Did you take everything to get it cleaned? You are a bit of a neat freak—unlike him. Suppose that would be something you’d do. Weird of you not to take any of his laundry as well, though.

Oh, well. He shoots you a “gn bby” on his phone, then collapses on his bed and falls asleep—smiles a bit as he does so—it’s nice not having you here to tell him to undress and go shower first. Yeah, you can be such a nag sometimes.

He wakes up late in the day. You’re not there. Usually, you come over to wake him with some breakfast. He checks his phone—you didn’t reply last night. It isn't that weird—you were probably already asleep at that point. But why didn’t you answer when you woke up? There’s no way you’re still asleep, right? 

Fuck, he’s hungry.

“gm,” he sends—contemplates asking you what’s up but doesn’t. You must be busy with something not to have checked your phone yet.

The entire day goes by, and you still don’t answer. He doesn’t take it too hard. But he won’t deny being a bit miffed.

It’s when three days go by that he’s well and truly confused. He’s sent you several texts at this point, even called you a few times, getting a little worried something had happened to you before he got the message that he’d been blocked. 

What the fuck’s going on with you?

He thinks back to the last time he saw you. What did you even say? He can’t remember. Something about being tired—something, something—I’m leaving.

He swallows thickly. No… No way, that’s what you meant, right? No, can’t be. You love him. You’re his pretty girlfriend. The one that comes with his food and later comes back for his bowl. The one that sucks his dick under his desk as he goes on a kill streak. The warm pillow he uses when he finally drags his bad posture to the bed and falls asleep.

No. Where the fuck are you? Are you sick or something? Yeah, must be, right? So delirious you’ve managed to block him somehow. You were probably only trying to call him back. You were never so tech-savvy—a fever must have worsened it. He should go to you. He can bring his pc. Or no, he can get you and bring you back here. Yeah, that would be easier.

He calls your roommate, tells her he’s coming, and asks her to let you know to get ready.

“What are you talking about?” she says through a piece of gum—her voice all dull as if bothered to have picked up the phone. Or, rather, she sounds a bit drunk. There’s music in the background. “Girl broke up with you, didn’t she?”

His blood runs cold at that. A lump forms in his throat—a thick, unmovable lump that makes him think he’s about to throw up. “N-no, she didn’t.”

“Hey!” she calls out, not to him, though—she’s covered the mic with her hand. He only hears the muted distortion of voices and bass through it before your roommate comes back to him. 

“Sorry—she’s telling me a different story,” she relays, popping her gum in his ear before sneering—or, at least, that’s what he pictures. “Honestly, how long did you think she was gonna put up with cleaning up after you anyway? I know I wouldn’t last half as long as she has.” The lump in his throat grows thicker, swelling up until it's choking him. “Anyway, good luck.”

She hangs up, and he drops his phone. There’s a crack as it hits the floor. And then something wet on his face. Something hot. Something searing as it tracks down his cheeks and drops off like acid onto the floor. 

What should he do? What do you want him to do? To tidy up? He can do that! He’s not some imbecile like your friend makes him out to be who can’t even do the basics of chores. Of course, he can! And so that’s what he does—hands shaking as he tidies. 

It feels foreign, and he’s not even sure where to start. And it quickly proves to be a lot worse than what he’d thought. Beyond stinky clothes and dirty dishes, there’s trash, rotten food, sticky surfaces, and other things he can’t even put a name to. It’s gross, actually. Downright disgusting. How long’s it been like this?

Even after everything’s put in order, there’s a smell that lingers and no end to the dust he has to clean—cringing at the little insects that come crawling out of their hiding spots. Geez—has it really been this bad?

He falls asleep on the floor at some point—having completely forgotten to eat—then wakes up feeling awful the next day. The kitchen is barren, and so he orders take-out. Eats and then goes back to cleaning. There’s still a lot left.

It’s barely recognizable once he’s done. Nice and bright and tidy and clean. There’s a sum of a dozen large black trash bags in the hallway he needs to take out, but other than that, everything’s perfect—perfectly presentable to have you come over again.

Still, he gives it a couple of days. He knows you. You’re going to change your mind. You’re too sweet to be breaking up with him. Too nice. You wouldn’t just leave him, not like this. Yeah, you’re only trying to teach him a lesson—after a while, you’ll come back on your own. You’ll be ecstatic over what he’s done with the place—apologetic even as you tell him you were wrong about him—and then everything will go back to normal. Make-up sex and everything. 

But you don’t. No. You’re nowhere to be seen or found—even after a week’s passed. You’re still gone. And he’s starting to believe you might just be gone for real.

No. He sees what this is. You’re waiting for the grand gesture, aren’t you? He never knew you could be so petty—but it’s actually kind of cute. Fine then. He’ll play along—come crawling to you on his hands and knees with the best apology you’ve ever heard. And then you can end this whole thing.

And so he finds himself at your place, pressing the buzzer, not knowing if he’s catching you at home—if not, he’ll just try again tomorrow, and so on until he does. He hears someone at the other side of the door—they must be looking at him through the peephole. It takes a while before the locks click and open.

“Hey…”

It’s you. 

“Hi,” he smiles in return, happy to see you. He’s been so nervous, but somehow, your face and voice are enough to calm him down.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

Oh, of course. You weren’t expecting him. Still, it feels weird of you not to gush happily over the surprise and rush him inside. It’s not every day he goes outside—you should be a little impressed.

But no, of course, you’re playing the part of fed-up girlfriend—acting hard-to-get. He’s got you—he’ll play his part, so don’t worry.

“I wanted to apologize,” he announces. “I haven’t been a good boyfriend—I see that now. But I’ll be better from now on, I promise—come over, and I’ll prove it to you.”

As far as apologies and promises go, he thinks that sounded pretty smooth—not too desperate, not too demanding. Pretty slick, if he can say so himself.

And so, why aren’t you smiling? He can understand being nervous—so is he—but why do you look guilty?

“That’s really nice. And… I’m really happy you’re looking better. But…” you start, and his gut’s already wrenching. “I think you need more time for yourself to just… enjoy what it’s like to be independent, you know?” 

No, he doesn’t know. What are you saying? And why are you holding onto the doorknob like that? Holding it steady as if you’re planning to shut it as soon as you can—why?

“Thanks for stopping by. It was nice seeing you—it really was. Take care of yourself, okay?”

It’s shutting—his plans—disappearing right before his face. He knows he isn’t owed a second shot, but this isn’t fair. You can’t be serious—are you?

“What? No, wait—” He stops you, weighing his own hand on the door, keeping it open. “Listen, I’m good now. I’ve pulled it together, you’ll see—I’ll come in, and we’ll talk about it.”

You resist, using both hands to almost push the door back on him. “I have company, so—”

“What’s up?” another voice announces himself—deep and presentful. He comes into view behind you—taller than you, taller than him—looking down his nose at him with a raised brow. “Who’s this?”

You look a bit panicked—no, embarrassed. “Oh, uhm—”

Why are you embarrassed? “Who’s that?” The bitterness in his voice surprises even himself—loaded with the same type of spite he seethes with when players use cheats to win.

“He’s an old friend, but he was just leaving,” you say, but you’re not speaking to him. No, you stroke a hand over the guy’s broad chest, looking up at him apologetically before turning back to him again, voice strict in a way he’s never heard, “Bye.”

“But—”

You shut the door. On him. In his face. 

His skin crawls—goosefleshed and chilled. Was that a date? No, right? You have a brother, don’t you? Yes, must be. No way you’re dating. There’s no way, right? It’s only been a week… no way you’ve moved on in only a week, right?

You looked really nice—wearing that sweet blouse with all the little bows and that cute little skirt you’d always wear out on dates. Damn, when was the last time the two of you went on a date? Must be months ago, if he can’t even remember. 

Come to think of it, the two of you would always have sex when you wore that skirt. Yeah, it’s your fuck-me-skirt. Are you going to fuck this guy too now? On the first date? Is it your first date? No, probably not—who has their first date at home? That’s more like a third or even fourth or fifth date, right? Were you dating him while the two of you were still together? Have you been cheating on him all this time? Laughing at him behind his back—talking shit with your bitch-roommate? About what a pathetic loser he is? About how he’s a slob who can’t take care of himself? How he needs you? Have you!?

He shouldn't be texting you all this from a random number. He knows that, but the full realization doesn’t dawn on him before it’s too late, and he’s sent you over a hundred messages, some small and others at such a length they take up more than what the screen allows. What the fuck’s he doing? He’d bought the new sim so that he could contact you in an emergency, not to spam you with accusations like some crazy ex. 

He starts deleting them—in some desperate wishful thinking, with the hope you wouldn’t see them, but then the dotted line starts beating, jumping in taunt. His eyes are wide as he stares at it, holding his breath. Ten seconds pass before it disappears—no message sent.

You blocked him again. And he can’t blame you.

And yet, he can’t let you go, either. 

He spends the first few weeks hauled up at home—his flat becoming as trashed as ever as he doomscrolls all your socials through a fake account. You’ve deleted all the pictures of him—even the ones of yourself when you’ve been with him. There’s no evidence the two of you were even dating.

How could you do this? How could you erase him like this?

He has questions, and he needs answers. You can’t just do this—the two of you haven’t even had the talk—he hasn’t even got to say his side yet!

He just wants to talk to you—why won’t you let him? He just wants you to hear him out. He deserves that much. But since you’re not giving him any option of contacting you, he’s had to resort to medieval methods—lurking outside your apartment like some creep, eyes peeled on your building’s entrance, waiting for you to show.

He’s there for hours, patiently—refusing to go home—thinking he’ll be there all night if he has to.

But then there you are—coming out of the complex, stepping down the alley, dressed all nice for the night. You seem to be in a hurry—are you on your way to another date? Well, wherever you’re going and whoever you’re meeting, they can wait.

“I need to talk—” he doesn’t get the words out.

You’d noticed him following you and tried to out-pace him—make him lose interest. But the area your flat’s situated in is a sketchy one—at least for girls, and you’d made the decision long ago that you’d never walk outside unprepared. And so, as soon as feeling the stranger's hand on your arm, you whip around to maze him right in the face.

“Argh!” he screeches and stumbles back, hands covering his eyes. “Fuck—ow-fuckin’dammit, shit—what the fuck did you do that for? Fuck—”

You were going to make a run for it, but the familiar voice has you halt—wait a minute…

You call his name, and sure enough, it’s him who looks up at you through the teary redness of your pepper spray assault. 

“Oh my god, shit—I’m so sorry—I thought you were a—” you stop yourself. “Fuck—never mind. Come—” You link his arm with yours and lead him back inside the apartment you just left. “I’ll help you rinse—I’m so sorry.”

You rush him to the bathroom, seating him atop the toilet lid as you wet a cloth and start soaking his face.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see it was you—” you apologize again. “Are your eyes okay?”

“Not really,” he hisses through clenched teeth, though steals himself soon after. “But they're getting better…”

His face unswells after a good thirty minutes, after which he’s able to keep his eyes open again—sore and no doubt bloodshot, yet fine, if not for that. You’ve moved him into the living room instead, having done what you could to rinse off your attack—having provided him with an apologetic glass of water. Now sitting with him, waiting for the effects to wear off.

It feels nice to be with you again despite the circumstances—but it’s awkward how you don’t speak.

“You look nice,” he says—trying to break the tension. It’s not as if the two of you are strangers, and so you shouldn’t act like it.

“Oh, I’m going to a party—roomie’s already there, so…” you say, sitting at the edge of your seat. “If you’re okay, I should probably head out… soon.”

A silence fills his head, as well as the room—a heavy stillness before a single word leaves him. “What?” His face sinks—part confusion, part offense, and something else—something that makes his voice come out accusatory and outraged, “You maze me in the face, and you’re just gonna fuck off to a party?”

Your eyes widen.“Well… it’s—”

“No—what the fuck?” He stands abruptly. His head’s so empty except for the blinding darkness slowly overtaking it—leaving him feeling boiling and all but nuclear. “That’s all I get? Are you fucking serious?” He’s shouting now—and then he’s on you, with one hand fisting your pretty dress and another around your throat. “First, you dump me without warning, assault me like some maniac, give me a lousy apology, and then tell me to fuck off? What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

You splutter his name and push, but it’s like fighting a wall.

“Where are you actually going dressed like that, huh? What’s so fucking important? Is it another date? What, with that same oaf I saw here last time? Or is it someone new already? I know how flighty you can be. I mean, fuck, I knew you were a little freaky, but I didn’t know I was dating a fucking slut!”

His strength comes as a complete and utter devastating shock. You’d think sitting in a chair all day would make any muscle obsolete—but the hands holding you don’t right now is more than anything you could hope to fight against.

“Stop! Get off me—” you cry, thrashing hopelessly as he lifts your dress and rips your lace panty down your thighs. 

A growl in his voice and nothing but rage on his face.

“If anyone can get it—I might as well help myself.”

♡ INSPO

♡ BNHA – Shigaraki, Dabi, Denki, Kirishima ♡ BLLK – Nagi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[rxmye]

" 𝐈 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 "

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐉𝐎𝐂𝐊 — a confident athlete who turns into pathetic putty at the thought of you . . .

nsfw / sixteen + content / smut / gender neutral reader / yandere content / sub!yandere / masturbation / pervert yandere (he literally breaks into the locker room for your shit) / olfactophilia/osmolagnia (scent/smell kink) / dacryphilia (kink for crying) / breath play / yandere oc x reader

masterlist | requesting rules | character info . . . a/n: haven't wrote smut in awhile, so im a bit rusty . . .

Lucas dangled the keys in his hands, a grin playing on his face as he walked towards the locker room—using the key to unlock the door—it was pretty easy grabbing the keys from the janitor's room, not that this school was particularly secure with their locks. It would be pretty easy breaking in, if he tried hard enough . . 

Lucas scanned the area, looking through each locker trying to find which one was yours . . he had your lock combination memorized, though he did get a little help from a friend in order to figure it out.

His hands reached for the clothes that you had left in your locker, lifting it up to his face, eyes going half lidded as he inhaled your intoxicating scent, he felt his face growing warm and his body growing weak. Lucas leaned down onto the lockers for support, almost losing balance as he slid down onto the floor.

Lucas pressed the flimsy piece of clothing further onto his face, engulfing himself in your smell—so much so that he could almost taste you—all the while his other hand travelled downwards, clumsily unbuckling his pants in a hurry . . hasty movements contradicted his rational mind, not bothering to care if he'd get caught.

He slid his pants down, just enough to reveal his semi-hard cock—a soft whine escaped him at the feeling of the cold air—his free hand now teasing his tip, as he relaxed his body, closing his eyes shut . .—imagining how disgusted you'd be seeing him in this pitiful state— . . that really turned him on, he cussed under his breath at how pitiful and pathetic his thoughts were . .

Lucas wrapped his hand around the base of his cock, slowly moving his hand up and down—his vision growing hazy—as he let out breathy sighs of pleasure—whines growing louder when he moved his hand faster.

Lucas stuffed the clothing he took, and pushed it into his mouth—drool escaped the corners of his mouth—blocking his ability make a sound, as he moved his hand faster around his cock—little tear droplets stinging his eyes, as he felt his legs shake slightly at the sheer pleasure—he used his now free hand to pinch his nose, closing his only source of air . . .

All he could taste was you, the clothing taking away all the moisture in his mouth, as tears begin to escape his eyes, saliva escaping the corners of his mouth, dripping onto his clothing—his legs began to convulse—his back arching slightly, as he finally came, all over the floor . . .

Lucas spat out the fabric, "fuck", the bell rang . . How is he gonna clean up this mess fast enough? . .

want more, buy my limited time only advent calendar?

@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

[egglain]

Choso is everyone’s favourite boy. Even your mom’s, which is saying something. Always the gentleman, he’s so in tune with your needs and emotions— he’s a sensitive soul.

In public, he’s perfect. Holds your bags when you shop, opens doors, and always has his card out before you can think to find your wallet. He’s great at grounding you, making sure you stop for food and drinks. And Choso loves to share. He doesn’t care about stares you receive as his fork flies over your plates to give you a bite of his order.

At home, he helps you with your shoes, makes sure you park yourself on the couch while he takes care of putting things away. Even though he’s still getting the hang of cooking, you never go to bed hungry— even if it means ordering in with a movie.

He really is the sweetest.

Outside the bedroom.

explicit content under the cut. 18+, mdni.

Behind closed doors, Choso is a different creature.

Depraved doesn’t even begin to cover it.

It never starts out that way, of course— no, it’s always wholesome at the beginning. Falling asleep, Choso pulls you closer to his chest as his leg wraps over your hip. It’s an innocent gesture, cuddling in as you begin to drift off.

That is, until he starts rutting up against you.

How could he not? Your smell, your body against him, your sleepy mumbles of endearment— he couldn’t help himself.

Which is how you end up with your bottoms around your ankles and his wet, pulsing cock twitching between your thighs.

He’d hump them messily, hands fondling your chest and nipples, bringing himself to the edge before stopping to kiss you.

He loved playing this game— getting himself close just to pull away, until his legs were shaking with need and his cock was so hard and heavy it hurt.

By then, of course, he’d be too far gone.

“Just the tip— please. Please, baby— just— just the tip and I’ll stop.”

Squeezing his balls and jerking his base just a little too rough, he’d babble for it. Beg. Beg until his eyes were stinging with tears, until you were reaching down to spread yourself open for him.

One nudge of his soaked, throbbing head against your too-hot hole would have him seeing stars. Toes curling and sharp teeth sinking into your shoulder, he’d paint you white between grunts and whines.

“Fuck— wasted it— needs to go inside. Need to be inside. Please.”

Which is how you end up pinned under him, Choso drilling you into the pillows as he desperately tries to fuck his cum inside.

Your hissed gasps and choked-off moans have his cock leaking like a faucet; he slips out too many times to count, but he’s nothing if not determined. He fucks into your tight little hole with unparalleled speed, the slap of his balls against your ass sure to brand your skin.

He’s never satisfied, finishing like this— as stuffed as you are.

No, he needs to see you.

So, you’re wrangled onto your back, Choso’s shaking form above you as he slides home once more. He nestles his cock as deep as he can reach, tears falling from the overstimulation. His cock feels raw, weeping and burning from the incessant pounding, but he can’t stop his hips.

Poor thing.

Nothing gets him harder than this— your lips on his cheeks, kissing away his tears and cooing as his tip stirs your insides. Your legs around his waist, your nails clawing at his back, the feeling of your chest against his— it’s all too much.

He’d cum crying, shaking as his hips stutter, fucking his cum deep inside.

He’d fall asleep like that, plugging his seed inside you, trembling in your grasp.

You’d wake up to strong hands on your thighs, tongue prodding at your insides as he cleans you up.

“Thank you— thank you—“

Muffled into your skin, you can barely make out what he says.

But of course, you already know.

He’s your sweet boy, after all.

[vanillarosekiss]

Eternally thinking about how Husband!Simon Riley would always keep you, his loving wife, nicely fed and fucked…

Warnings: heavy smut with no plot, highly descriptive sexual actions, mentions of cnc at the end, unprotected sex, language, Husband!Simon Riley x afab!reader.

Simon took great care in keeping his wife happy. As a military man who’d been subject to changing his old ways, he had taken pride in the fact that his missus was always looked after, fed well, and fucked regularly as needed.

It’s sort of like taking care of a plant, he would think. A delicate house plant, capable of looking after itself at times, but needed some external factors to keep it growing properly. That’s what Simon was, your external factor. He would always make sure you’d had something to eat, allowing you to cook for him occasionally but also taking the same duty for you.

And he was a great cook, underrated really, many didn’t know how good his culinary skills were. Of course, you did.

He would get back from a day of work, exhausted and fed up, but wouldn’t allow himself to sleep until his missus had been eaten out properly and had a sufficient orgasm. After all, you were the one who cared and loved him so much, so you should surely get a reward, pretty girl?

He wouldn’t leave you hanging either, best believe it. He came home one day, finding you trying to work yourself up to orgasm. Silly girl, don’t you know that it’s Simon’s job? He would pull your hand away from your already soaking pussy, immediately delving down on it with his mouth, hot and ready to work for a reward. Your hands would grip onto his short blonde hair, moaning his name as he devoured your mound, his nose occasionally catching your clit and creating the friction you so longed for. He would continue these ministrations for a while, his thumb coming to help work you by rubbing small clockwise circles on your delicate nub, building up the pressure over time. As you writhed around, already overstimulated after coming on his mouth once, he wouldn’t stop, knowing you could take more.

“Come on, lovie, i know you can take it” he would coax you into orgasming again and again until you were all fucked out. He would usually put his needs aside, unless he had a particularly stressful day. In this case, he’d apologise for riling you all up but doesn’t he deserve a treat once in a while for looking after you so well?

“That’s it baby, take it all like the good wife you are” he would groan as he stuffed your pussy with his hard cock, precum leaking from the soft pink tip that was now almost hitting your cervix. He would undoubtedly finish in you, apologising profusely for the mess. He would obviously clean you up, the gentleman he is, only after fucking his cock back into you gently once or twice. What? He didn’t want his seed going to waste.

[allurilove]

Yandere Ghost x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: A little introduction to very pretty and demure yan ghost x gender neutral reader, perverted behavior, mentions of cheating and murder, he wants to be your one and only.

Part two ! ★

Yandere ghost had been alone for five hundred years. He had seen many people come and go, and none of his lovers had last long. They were all peaceful people who accepted death and their untimely demise, and no matter how hard he would beg for them to become a spirit and stay with him—they chose to go to heaven. Yandere ghost was scared to let go. He wanted to be on earth forever.

Yandere ghost had the prettiest hair that rivals the finest silk. Before he had died, he was a paramour. He fell in love with a married woman that made him want to be the best version of himself. He started to learn all the beauty secrets he could, traveling around the globe for the best ingredients for his skincare and hair. He dabbled in makeup, adding a bit of rouge to his cheeks and stained his lips pink. He took care of his body well. He used sugar to wax any hair on his torso or legs, and slathered scented creams he made himself so he smelled rosy. He made sure he would massage his legs and face after he woke up, and put ice on any puffy areas.

Yandere ghost was murdered by his ex-lovers husband. He didn’t like to dwell on his death, and he hadn’t exactly been truthful to you about it as well. He didn’t want you to think lowly of him for being the “other woman” and breaking a relationship apart. But, when he does get unwanted memories from that unfortunate night, he appears in your bedroom. You could feel his presence whenever he comes and goes, his cold hand would gently tug at your blankets, and you shivered as his body slowly sided next to yours. He would play with your pajamas, kiss your cheeks and bite on em. Not too hard, but enough so he could see his teeth marks.

Yandere ghost was grateful that you weren’t creeped out by the sight of him rubbing his cheeks on your inner thigh. He liked resting on your lower half since it was so unbelievably warm. He liked pressing his tongue against the crotch, and he smiled often at the wet spot that usually formed down there. He doesn’t want to be too forward with you, so simple touches like these was all he did. He kissed the fabric of your underwear, trailing upwards to your midriff, and his fingers grazed over the soft skin of your thighs. Yandere ghost was more active during the night time, and he preferred to keep himself hidden from you. Sometimes, he would pop out if you had another man over. His beautiful face would twist into disgust, and for a brief moment, he would reveal the most ugly parts of himself to the man he considered to be “trespassing.”

Yandere ghost was a little mischievous and jealous man. He didn’t like seeing you with anyone else because he had felt like you were the one. Yandere ghost was a man of many talents. He could rip his body into half on command, his intestines hanging like strings, and his mouth could detach from the jaw. He often liked to scare the men by hovering over them, his eyes wide and white without a pupil in sight, and his breath that reeked of spoiled and decaying fish would waft into their nose. If that didn’t work, he would beg them to free him from this house, and scream that there was a curse for any man that stepped foot on this land. He would crawl on the ground, sobbing endless black tears. Every time they would snitch on him… yandere ghost just disappeared immediately. He wouldn’t want you to see this jealous side of him.

[deunmiu-dessie]

ⅴ▬ ⁽ 𝑜𝓇𝒸 ⁾

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₅˖₇ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : mdni----- unedited, NSFW,  explicit content, teratophilia, orc/royalty!human, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, overstimulation, breeding, spit kink, sloppy kisses, size difference, somnophilia, slight voyeurism, orcish, reader loses all forms of etiquette and just babbles-- stupidly, belly bulge. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎: as royalty it's your duty to marry and provide heirs for the kingdom, however, your parents have a different plan for you.

꒰m!orc ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱

 𝐹or as long as you can remember, you have been allured by the forbidden. Whenever your parents commanded you to abstain from a certain act or sternly prohibited you from engaging in another, it ignited a fervor within your being. And inevitably, you succumbed to its allure.

Your relationship with your parents was not a harmonious one. From the time you were but a child, they made it abundantly clear that you were not conceived out of their love for one another, but rather out of an obligation to the throne. To them, you were an inconvenience, a mere hindrance that they longed to be rid of. Thus, you existed in a perpetual state of unease, forever uncertain of their next move.

The castle bustled with activity this week, the number of knights seemed to have multiplied, and your encounters with your parents grew scarce. Your daily meals together became non-existent- not that you were complaining. Instead, during supper, they scorned and mocked you—drawing comparisons to your elder cousin who had recently become betrothed to a Duke. You were aware that they would arrange a marriage for you; it was inevitable, but you hoped it would be to someone who would eventually cherish you as you would them.

Verily, this day seemed naught but a replica of the day prior—a day draped in melancholy. The heavens were adorned with clouds of a somber ashy hue, obscuring the radiant sun in its entirety, and permitting but a scant ray of light to penetrate. You lay sprawled on your bed; the clamor from beyond your door kept you from getting any sleep, so you opt to lay there, eyes shut and breathing even.

The two hefty thuds at your door jolt you awake, your eyes snapping to the entrance. A servant girl stood there, her gaze piercing, and her upper lip curled in a sneer. "The King and Queen request your presence for a meal in the dining chamber."

You release a heavy sigh and nod. "Yes, I shall join them shortly, Nadia." she scoffs and closes the door with a soft thud. Rubbing the remnants of sleep from your eyes, you rose from your bed, slipping into your shoes with a sense of resignation. Hastily, you arranged your disheveled hair and adjusted your attire in the mirror, preparing yourself for the impending encounter. Finally, summoning your resolve, you embarked on the descent towards the dining hall.

 Your stomach churns uncomfortably as you motion towards the knights, fingers twisting nervously as they swing open the heavy oak doors. Stepping into the chamber, you swiftly bow and linger there for a moment, awaiting permission to be seated. "Hail to the Sun and Moon of the realm." Your sire grunts and gestures for you to take a seat; you release a shaky breath and settle across from your mother, who pays you no mind.

Within the dining hall, a profound stillness prevails, accompanied solely by the gentle clatter of utensils upon porcelain plates. You dare to disrupt the silence, your heart constricting within your breast, burdened by your uneasiness. " Pray tell, have I heard true? Have the demons breached the borders, causing mayhem? Is that why the ranks of the noble knights have swelled in recent days?"

The older man looks up from his meal, steely eyes on your face. "I did not deem you astute enough to discern matters of such nature, but aye, it is true. The Orcs shall breach the barrier if we do not do something. The knights from Tvatian shall not grace us with their presence for a week's time, yet our defenses wane with each passing moment."

The sound of your mother's throat being cleared reverberates through the air, abruptly drawing your eyes towards her. "You shall soon attain the age of twenty, my dear. Do you have any intentions of entering into wedlock?" Her voice possesses a cloying sweetness, signifying her ulterior motives; she is forever scheming. As you carefully place your knife and fork on the table, you grant her your undivided focus. "Aye, mother," you reply, your words tinged with a touch of uncertainty.

With a disapproving click of her tongue, she gracefully lifted her goblet to her lips, attempting to conceal the mischievous grin that flickered across her features. "Verily, a little bird has whispered in my ear that Orcs take pleasure in having humans as mere playthings, using them as harlots and passing them amongst themselves. How dreadful."

 Your hands clench beneath the table, and you struggle to suppress the bile that threatens to rise. Your heart thumps sporadically in your chest, almost painfully. What is she implying? "Pray tell, what is the essence of your words?"

"The royal family's expectations are not to be taken lightly, my child. If you persist in shirking your responsibilities by avoiding marriage and offspring, alternative measures must be considered. You shall be delivered to the head Orc at the border; mayhap that will pacify them until the Tavatian knights arrive." Your father had spoken this time, causing you to swiftly turn your gaze towards him. Tears welled up in your eyes, and a soft laughter escaped your lips. "Pray, father, assure me that you jest."

The answer lies within his silence. Your hands collide with the table, your head sways vehemently from side to side. "Nay, nay! You shall not subject me to this. What offense have I caused thee? I have obeyed all your commands unquestioningly, and you are planning to— Nay, I shall not proceed."

As the succulent salmon dances on her fork, your mother's laughter fills the air, resonating with a warmth that belies the gravity of her words. "My dear child, you find yourself bereft of options. You shall be deemed a traitor to the noble lineage and condemned to perish before your very birthday." A lump lodges itself in your throat, and tears stream down your face, as you rue the moment you stepped out of your room. "For what reason do you bear such animosity towards me?"

"Escort her back to her chamber; she's giving me indigestion," your mother states with a grimace.  The knights pause briefly, uncertain of how to guide you away. Dismissing them with a wave of your hand, you rise from your chair and exit the chamber, tears clouding your sight. The journey back is unsettling, with the maids gossiping and gesturing, their disdain evident on their faces, and their disapproving gazes following you.

The door is forcefully slammed shut behind you, and with great urgency, your feet carry you to your bed, where you collapse with a heavy sigh. Almost immediately, your pillow becomes saturated with the tears that pour forth, and you huddle into yourself, simply becoming smaller. 

  Indeed, you knew this would occur eventually, but you hadn't thought you would be handed over to some hideous monster who would likely slay you upon arrival. Violent sobs wrack your body, shaking you to the core, while your nose runs uncontrollably, the pillow muffles a scream of agony.

After half an hour had passed, you lay there, sleep welcoming you with warm arms. The answer to this puzzle would reveal itself upon your awakening.

—

Woken by the sound of shuffling, faint whispers, and delicate clinks, you remain motionless, filled with trepidation, and unwilling to stir from your position. You quickly clench your eyes shut upon hearing the intruder approach. As much as you desired to confront them, you were also intrigued to uncover their intentions within your room.

"Seize her limbs; we must transport her to the dungeon." In an instant, your heart falters, trembling fiercely, and for a moment, your breath is held captive. As your eyes snap open, the ceiling of your chamber looms above you. Swiftly, you strike at the person nearest to you, expressing gratitude to the gods as you hear their curse.

Emerging hastily from the confines of your bed, you sprint towards the exit, a shrill cry escaping your lips as a hand clutches your ankle. You descend abruptly, your chin colliding with the cold marble beneath, silently expressing gratitude for the prudent act of placing your tongue against the roof of your mouth in the final moments.

   Swiftly flipping over, you kick frantically, tears streaming down your face as your legs are forcefully spread apart, and the assailant inserts themselves between your thighs, seizing hold of your arms.

Your vision blurs as a heavy slap is brought across your face. The brief respite from your struggle grants the assailants the opportunity to lay a cloth upon your nostrils. Your eyes flutter shut, darkness casting a shadow upon your vision. The feel of your body being lifted is the only thing you remember.

Within the confines of the cell, you find yourself in a state of contemplation, your head gently leaning against the cold metal bars. The sharp sound of heels striking the ground causes you to straighten up. The passage of time remains elusive, yet the atmosphere hints at the arrival of a new day, shrouded in the quiet of dawn.

Your mother's face came into view, causing you to sneer in disdain as you buried your head in your knees, refusing to meet her gaze. The very sound of her voice sent shivers down your spine, igniting a mixture of anger and sorrow within you. She callously auctioned you off, displaying a complete lack of concern for your well-being.

"I reckoned it would be preferable for you to don your best attire, but it would be futile. A watchman shall be present shortly to guide you to the border, make no disturbance, do you understand? 'Twould be unsightly if you do."

You ignore her, but deep down, you are filled with dread to venture towards the border. You longed to weep and plead with her to refrain from sending you, but it would only wound your pride. Instead, she smiles and draws nigh unto the prison bars. "When we emerge victorious in this war, and if you are still breathing, I shall dispatch you to a brothel. I couldn't possibly have such a defiled child. Revel in your sojourn there, my dear."

The clatter-clack of her footwear slowly vanishing into the distance brings forth a torrent of tears. Why must this befall you? What sin have you committed to warrant such treatment? The jingle-jangle of keys catches your attention; the guard stands before you with a look of pity. "Your majesty, the time has arrived."

You nod in a pitiful manner and rise from the ground, using your soiled hands to dry your tears, leaving traces of dirt on your cheeks. As you draw near to the guard,  he pulls down his sleeve and tenderly wipes your cheeks with a sympathetic smile. You bow softly in gratitude and proceed to walk with him to the carriage.

He assists you inside and closes the door; a click prompts you to peer through the tiny gap. A lock secures the door; as you lock eyes with the guard, he merely sighs and shakes his head. "The Queen has requested this. I beg your pardon, Your Majesty." 

  You remain silent, leaning back in the seat and staring blankly at the castle. You see your father standing at his office window, observing. You avoid his gaze, curling up in the seat. Then, as the carriage sets in motion, your heart swells, and tears flow.

The carriage's abrupt jolt awakens you from your nap; the sun is just beginning to descend, signaling the end of a day filled with endless riding. The only noise is the steady trot of the horses and the occasional whisper of the soldiers. Have you arrived already? You swallow nervously and flinch as the door is forcefully opened. "We have arrived, your highness."

You nod and sit up, clasping his hand to disembark from the carriage. Your eyes swiftly survey the surroundings. Despite the tales, the border seemed relatively serene. You couldn't hear anything from beyond the wall. At length, a throat is cleared,  causing you to look up, and the guard beckons you along. You hesitate for only a moment before fortifying your resolve and walking forward.

After much anticipation, the distant voices grow more distinct. "Captain, 'tis here! Shall we unseal the gates?" The clamor of the ponderous wheels turning and ascending is loud in your ears. The gate opens enough to allow your passage beneath. They weren't wasting time at all. The guard places a hand on your lower back and pushes you forward gently. "The Orc General has agreed to receive you; he's on the other side waiting."

You suppress the lump in your throat and proceed, every gaze fixed upon you. The wall loomed thick and intimidating,  and you couldn't shake off the fear of it collapsing on you as you reached the other side. However, as you eventually crossed over, your gaze locked with his.

Standing tall at a minimum of 9 feet, he possessed a powerful build adorned with thick muscles, and hair decorating his chest. Dark brown hair cascaded down to his waist woven into an intricate braid, contrasting against his pear-colored complexion and a thick beard enveloped his jaw. Scars crisscrossed his body, enhancing his rugged charm.  Despite his blunt tusks, one of which was slightly chipped, there was no denying the outrageous attractiveness of this Orc.

As he takes a step forward, an instinctual reflex compels you to retreat, a shiver of trepidation coursing through your being. Your legs, heavy as if forged from lead, refuse to heed your desperate plea for escape. A subtle chuckle escapes his lips, the corners curling upwards in a smug grin. "Time is not a luxury I possess, little human," he mocks, his voice dripping with impatience. 

  You part your lips to utter a response, but only silence greets your futile attempt. The resounding thud of the closing wall seals your grim destiny, causing your weakened knees to buckle beneath you, surrendering to the tender embrace of the grassy ground. With a deep sigh, he strides towards you, casting a towering shadow over your slumped figure, a chilling reminder of his overpowering presence.

With utmost ease, he effortlessly lifts you, as if you were as light as a feather. Your body tenses in his embrace, a mixture of vulnerability and anticipation. The tears well up, threatening to spill over. Surprisingly, his touch is tender, his hands delicately traversing your legs and back. Summoning your courage, you manage to muster a question, your voice trembling slightly. 

  "Might I inquire about your name?"  Despite your hesitant speech, he pays no mind, his voice resonating with a deep timber that sends a surge of desire coursing through your veins. A flush of warmth spreads across your face, compelling you to avert your gaze and focus on your lap. "I am Loran, the General of the Mammoth Clan."

Silence envelops the air for a fleeting moment before your voice breaks through once more. "My name is (Name)" He acknowledges your introduction with a subtle hum, and together, you navigate through the labyrinthine paths until you arrive at a large tent. With utmost care, he settles you upon a sumptuous bed adorned with furs, then proceeds to position himself near a table, obscuring its contents from your prying eyes. 

  A knot tightens in your throat as you summon the courage to voice your deepest fear. "Might you have intentions of devouring me?" you whisper, recoiling at the childlike vulnerability that tinges on your words.

His laughter causes a flutter in your chest; every aspect of him leaves your insides twisted. At last, he ceases his actions and pivots to meet your gaze, his arms folded. You had to physically remind yourself to avert your eyes from his well-defined muscles. "Would you like me to?" His voice carries a teasing lilt, yet his words hint at something more intimate.

You shake your head in denial and draw your knees closer to your body. He was nothing like the figure you had imagined; you were convinced that your life would have ended by now. Your gaze wanders aimlessly as you delve into your own musings. Unbeknownst to you, he crouches down before you. The calloused tips of his fingers grazing your chin send a shiver down your spine. Your eyes meet his, and you find yourself holding your breath.

"The hour grows late; retire for the night. "

 You offer a silent nod, watching him leave the tent. Following his guidance, you settle back onto the furs. After the tumultuous events of the day, slumber swiftly envelops you, embracing the plush comfort of the bedding.

The warmth seeping into your skin prompts you to wriggle out of the furs. The weight of an arm flung over your stomach arrests you, dread settling in your heart and coiling around it like a vice. Though yesterday's events come rushing back to you and you relax, your tense body melting into Loran's embrace.  

  Despite the circumstances that brought you here, he had shown nothing but kindness, even playfulness - he didin't really make you uneasy, and it seemed as though a burden had been lifted from your shoulders.

In the realm of uncertainty, his actions remained capricious, yet amidst this unpredictability, a newfound liberation enveloped your being, you were free. Loran, with an irresistible allure, draws you nearer, your bodies melding as your front meets his. You place your hands on his chest and gently create distance, huffing as he cuddles closer.

After struggling a bit more, you come to a stop and seize the opportunity to examine him closely. Withdrawing your hand from his chest, you gently place it on his cheek, relishing its velvety texture. Loran possessed a striking appearance. Tracing your fingers along his lips, the sensation of his tusks lightly brushing against your fingertips captivates you once more. Their smoothness leaves you mesmerized. The rounded tips are gentle and harmless; they would not cause any discomfort if you were to share a kiss.

 Blushing with embarrassment, your cheeks turn a rosy hue, and for a fleeting moment, you seek solace by burying your face into his chest. Raising your gaze once more, you cautiously wave your hand before his face, ensuring his continued slumber. With no signs of movement and a steady rhythm of breath, a sigh of relief escapes your lips. 

  Gradually, you shift your position, ascending along his form, while your heart flutters nervously within your chest. With a mixture of fascination and unease, you lean closer, drawn to an inexplicable magnetism emanating from him. His lips, so alluring, entice you irresistibly.

 Placing your hand on his cheek, you lean in with deliberate slowness, capturing his lips with yours. The sensation of his tusks grazing your skin sends a rush of pleasure up your spine. With closed eyes, you deepen the kiss, savoring the unexpected softness of his lips. His taste is intoxicating, akin to a forbidden elixir. You have always been drawn to forbidden pleasures.

With a hint of reluctance, you retreat, allowing your eyes to slowly unveil the world around you. A startled gasp escapes your lips as your gaze meets Loran's. Despite your endeavors to break free from his embrace, his arms encase you like unyielding steel, entrapping you. Loran's chuckle resonates with a profound and drowsy timbre, while his hand ascends to firmly grasp your chin. "Do not flee from me, Sma ni." ( little one )

His lips are on yours, gentle and governing. His other hand gripping your waist and quickly lifting you onto his chest. The sensation of his thick and moist tongue overpowering your mouth elicits a fervent moan from deep within you, while your thighs instinctively clasp around his stomach. As his hands glide up your top, the pads of his fingers diligently work out the tension in your soft skin. Gradually, they find their way to your hips, expertly guiding them to grind against his abdomen.

With a soft whine escaping your mouth, you break the connection of his kiss, and your tongue lazily protrudes, leaving a trail of warm saliva on your chin. A primal growl resonates from deep within his chest, causing your thoughts to blur. Your hands instinctively find their way to his chest, the rough hair gently tickling your palms. The pressure on your hips eases, and his hand tightly grasps your hair, enabling him to sit up and halt the rhythmic grind of your hips.

A soft whimper escapes your lips as the throbbing sensation between your thighs intensifies.  Loran's lips trail along the curve of your throat, delicately nibbling at your tender skin, while his tongue glides with ease. Suddenly, a tearing sound startles you and a rush of cool air caresses your newly bared legs. The remnants of your shredded trousers gracefully descend to the floor, leaving you vulnerable and exposed.

Upon the velvety fur, Loran tenderly positions you, his voracious eyes meticulously exploring the expanse of your body. In a swift motion, he removes the sole obstruction that conceals your body, leaving you vulnerable to his cravings. You clench your thighs, your pussy pulsating with emptiness. This man was sinful; he looked so delectable, his lips shimmering with the remnants of your passionate kisses, and his complexion adorned with a captivating flush.

He lets out a deep groan, settling himself amidst your thighs, the ache in your legs a mere whisper compared to the intensity of his touch, tongue dancing over your nipples, nipping and tugging. Loran's hand travels up your body, his thick fingers entering your warm, wet mouth. You suppress a gag and suck on them shyly, tears welling up in your eyes. As his fingers delve deeper into your throat, you grasp his wrist firmly, your hips grinding against his thick bulge.

Loran pulls his fingers from your mouth, watching the rivulets of saliva drip down his digits. Leaving a glistening trail of moisture along your body, Loran delicately caresses his fingers through the soft curls of hair on your pussy, teasing you with the soft touch of his fingertips. With deliberate precision, he gradually eases one digit into the confines of your snug entrance stretching you. You pull your fleshy bottom lip into your mouth, teeth digging painfully. Your lashes flutter, exposing the whites of your eyes as they roll back in blissful surrender, eyebrows arching. Your mewls are soft and pleading. "Mmph! L-Loran. Please "

Your voice is a siren's call to him, as you whimper and plead for him. His desire to possess you completely, to fuck you full of his cum, to have you swollen with his young, consumes him. The mere thought of it almost brings him to the brink of release. Granting mercy upon your adorable, fucked out face, he finally sinks his finger into your cunt, relishing the exquisite tightness that embraces him, while your delicate hands clutch his braid and tug.

  With his other hand, he gently cups your cheeks between his large, powerful fingers, causing your lips to pucker. His mouth descends upon yours, messy and dominating, leaving a trail of mingled saliva that pools down your flushed cheeks. He chuckles as your eyes wander elsewhere, glazed and hazy with pleasure as he eases a single finger inside you.

A high-pitched sound escapes your lips as he expertly probes a sensitive spot deep within you, causing your hips to tremble and your inner walls to clench around his fingers. Leaning closer, his warm breath brushes against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "Ayh lat naka ve cum, sma shara? " His mother tongue is foreign to you, but it sounds absolutely erotic, especially while he's stroking your drooling pussy skillfully. You shudder fervently, emitting mewls and whimpers, as the squelching noises of his thrusts fill the confined space of the tent. “I—uhn~ w-wait p-please, Lor…” You babble nonsensically. ( are you going to cum, little human? )

 Loran, in a teasing mood, complies with your dumb prattling, and moves away from you, fingers slipping out with an erotic pop. A soft whimper escapes your lips, your lower lip jutting out in a pout as tears well up in your eyes from the empty feeling in your pussy, your eyes widen at seeing him suck on his dampened fingers. “N-no, why’d you stop!” 

 With a chuckle, the Orc leans in to press a tender kiss on your flushed cheeks, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "I simply did as you asked, Faushnu," he whispers. Pulling back slightly, he studies your expression - your eyebrows furrowed, lips parted, and your chest rising and falling rapidly. "I did not mean for this," you whimper, grinding your hips against his growing bulge. “M-more. Give me more.” You give him a stern glare, that only turns him on more, his little hostage was so demanding. ( baby ) "Of course, Your Highness," he says, his tone dripping with playful mockery. Loran's large hands firmly grasp your waist, swiftly maneuvering you onto your stomach. With a gentle yet commanding motion, he elevates your hips, causing your face to be buried in the soft furs beneath you. The sensation is almost agonizing as your back arches, eliciting a sharp squeal from your lips. A glob of warm saliva unexpectedly lands on your moistened pussy, causing an involuntary clenching reaction. "What are yo--?" 

  Before you can finish, the sudden roughness of his tongue against your throbbing cunt has you seeing stars. His feral growls reverberate through the air, as his tongue delves and ravishes you with an insatiable fervor. Reduced to a whimpering wreck, tears of rapturous delight cascade down your flushed face.  Desperate to regain control, you weakly press your small hand against the crown of his head, attempting to halt the relentless onslaught. "No more, please, m'gunna cum. Want to cum for you," you manage to slur amidst incoherent babbling, your words a contradictory mix. 

Loran, enraptured by your musings, fingers your pussy once again, effortlessly finding that spongey nerve inside of you and deftly curling his thick finger into it, time and again. A torrent of scorching pleasure engulfs your entire being, as you succumb to an intense climax, your trembling thighs embracing his head while your pussy flutters around his finger.

" Loran! "You slur, thighs still convulsing as the feel of Loran's hands on the fat of your hips seems multiplied, your mind filled with goo. The rustle of fabric falling to the ground barely registers before his thick cock presses into your pussy, hands guiding your hips onto him. Warmth trickles onto your pulsing cunt, his saliva lubing where you connect. You clench around him, emitting obscene moans. 

   He delves deeper, your snugness yielding to his thick, heavy cock. You swear you can feel every pulsating vein, every ridge of him inside of you. You whimper and whine when he fucks half of his big cock into your tiny little hole, and you thrash and let out small mewls of pleasure. "Mmph, Lor--!! it won't fit!" you whimper amidst sobs. 

"Hm?" He utters, his voice a low hum, as he observes with rapt attention as you stretch around his green, monstrous cock. The pressure within your abdomen steadily intensifies, inch by inch, until Loran thrusts in the last couple of inches, his large balls flush against your engorged clit. You're already fucked stupid, pupils blown, and moans strewing from your lips. The Orc takes hold of your hand, guiding it towards your stomach, allowing you to feel the undeniable presence of his shaft protruding from your belly. "Do you feel me? Feel my cock in your insides, my little human?"

With a forceful motion, he retreats, then thrusts forcefully into you, his grip tightening on your hair as he pulls.  A fervent moan escapes your lips, as the resounding collision of his hips against your ass fills the air, the only thing you can hear. The wet squelching of your arousal intermingles with his precum, cascading onto the opulent furs beneath you. His name becomes a sacred mantra, slipping from your tongue like a fervent prayer. "S'good, m'gunna cum, let me cum, please, please."

With a gentle caress, Loran's hand ascends your stomach, pinching your sensitive nipples. You mewl, back arching as you clench and pulse around his thick length, cumming harder than before, a wave of darkness gently tinting your vision. A low, guttural moan reverberates from deep within you, harmonizing with Loran's unyielding thrusts. “That's a good fuckin’ girl.”

The Orc's hand comes down on your ass, observing the quivering flesh. Your violated hole trembles around Loran's thick length, and he snickers, his hips stuttering. "You're mine. Hm? Do you understand, pet?" His thrusts became more profound, faster, not giving you rest, groaning as you nod quickly, whimpering.

You turn your gaze towards him, his fingers constricting in your tresses. "Loran, want you to cum inside me, please." Your feeble arms emerge from beneath your form, delicate hands reaching to spread your pussy wider. "You will, right?"

 Your wanton plea hurls the massive Orc over the brink. Loran's hips slam into yours once more as his scorching cum coats your walls; the copious amount of it had you cumming once more. Loran continues to pump his seed into you, his cock still hard and balls full of cum. He longed to see you swollen with his offspring; he wouldn't stop until he knew you were trapped with him.

You are not permitted to rest until the early morning, curled against his chest with his seed leaking from your stretched opening. Your body is tender, marked with bruises on your neck and chest. Loran places his large hand on your cheek; although he is running late for the meeting, he decides to allow you more time to sleep.

He lifts you gently, thankful that he has cleaned you up and changed the bedding. You snuggle into his warmth, almost convincing him to delay for another hour. "My zemar, it's time to wake up. We must rise before the sun sets." (my heart)

Stirring in his arms, your eyelashes flutter before you slowly open your bleary eyes. Attempting to close them once more, his hearty chuckle resonates, partially rousing you. Placing you gently on the bed, he drapes one of his shirts over you, guiding your arms through the sleeves. Loran picks you up again, cradling you as he carries you out of the tent, shielding your eyes from the glaring sun. The short walk to the other side of the campsite goes unnoticed by you.

He arrives promptly, his raven perched gracefully on its stand. A soft whistle escapes his lips, a signal for the bird to gather the troops. Loran takes his place at the head of the table, positioning you to face him, your legs wrapped around his waist. With spit on his fingers, he traces circles around your cunt, pleased that it had returned to its original state, tight and warm. After lubricating your entrance, he spits on his palm and wraps his member in a firm grip, ensuring that it's slick. 

  Loran aligns himself with your little hole and eases inside, emitting a deep groan at the vice grip; you let out a sleepy moan, tightening around him. His large hands grip the fat of your hips, guiding you down the rest of his thick length. He pulls his shirt over your ass, concealing where his cock is nestled inside of you.

He has to stop himself from fucking you on the table in front of all his tribe members. Once he had you in the perfect position, his soldiers began to file into the room. He couldn't help but notice how your warm, tight hole was becoming slick. Unbeknownst to you, his thick cock was already buried deep within you.

The meeting unfolds seamlessly. With nightfall as their ally, they conspire to dismantle the impenetrable walls of the Kingdom on the morrow. A sacred covenant governs The Mammoth Clan, dictating that the fairer sex and the innocent offspring shall be spared from any affliction. Thus, the innocent shall be granted mercy and protection.

Awakening towards the end, your pussy pulsating and enveloping something thick and long. A twitching motion stirs inside you, nudging your G-spot. A soft moan escapes your lips as you hide your face in his neck. Loran dismisses it as your mere awakening, soothingly caressing your back. Only a fool would miss the evidence of your arousal - the glistening juices trickling down your bare thighs and the hint of green meeting a clenching hole

" Dismissed. "

The orcs file out of the room, speaking amongst each other. Loran's gaze descends upon your petite frame, concealed beneath his garments. He looks feral. Once the auditory commotion subsides, you cautiously lift your head, locking eyes with his penetrating stare.

"Loran, please."

The Orc emits a deep snarl, his lips forcefully meeting yours as he firmly grasps the flesh of your hips, hoisting you off his slick member. Swiftly, he plunges you back down, thrusting into you with fervor, fucking you onto him. You're moaning mess, the spit from your sloppy kiss sliding down your chin and eyes rolling to the back of your head. The sound of wet slapping resonates loudly within the confines of the tent. With a gasp for air, you disengage from him, your hands finding solace on his broad shoulders.

 A particular thrust causes the swollen, mushroom-shaped tip of his cock to abuse your g-spot and your moan is shrill. You climax, your body trembling around him, leaving a creamy, ivory ring at the base of his cock. Stars burst in your vision as you weakly press your lips against his throat, whimpering as he continues to thrust into you, your sensitive and throbbing core tender. " Lor-.. no more.. s’too.. much!" you sputter, sloppily pressing your lips to his and sucking on his large tongue. 

Despite the roughness of his hips snapping into yours, he caresses your sides softly and pulls away from your kiss, licking his lips. "Be a good pet, hm? Let me use my pussy, can you do that for me? " You nod hesitantly, and he smiles, sending your stomach to unfurl languidly. "S'my good girl." You bury your face in his neck with a whimper, but when your blunt little teeth sink into his collarbone it pushes him over the edge; and he stands up with you still bouncing on his cock, thrusting so deeply that you hiss. Ropes of cum paint your pulsing walls, filling you up.

Loran's shallow thrusts ensure not a single drop is wasted as you envelop him in your embrace, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply.

Mayhap, the circumstance of being dispatched to this place was not as grievous as first imagined...

connected with this post!

[hurlingdown]

                     THE BAAAAD TOUCH!

synopsis. there’s a very thin line between the way animals fuck on the discovery channel and the way you fuck them. featuring shameless, rough sex with the arcane men, and a third secret option at the end. jayce, vander, silco, viktor.

tags. top! reader, sub! jayce, vander, silco, viktor. reader has a cock. rough anal sex, creampie(s), exhibitionism, infidelity, cumslut! jayce, doggy, riding, size difference, huge cock, belly bulge, size queen! viktor, sweat kink, strength kink, breeding kink, implied marathon sex, dirty talk, degradation, praise kink, excessive amounts of manhandling, age difference, established relationships. cock-hungrified men. (lmao)

a/n. inspired by this song from bloodhound gang.

“does she know?” you pant into his ear, grip strong and sweaty on his hips, and jayce feels dirty, the way he’s being mounted like a bitch. “does she know about the way i fuck you? the sounds you make when i fill your pretty hole up?”  

he shudders, shaking his head, nails raking down your biceps as he tries to lift his head, to be less vulnerable in the way you’re taking him, but to no avail. he feels the hot burn of your palm at the back of his neck, and he finds himself back with his cheek pressed against the sheets, back arching with the violence of forcing his body to accommodate both pleasure and pain plowing away at his dignity. 

 “fuck!” he gasps, “let’s not, nnngh! talk about this. not, not right now.” it’s not the first time you’ve brought mel up in a conversation, but hardly ever more than an offhand comment, something to tease, something for fun. this… this was unknown territory. 

“why? you don’t like it?” there’s a strange displacement in your voice, a touch whiny, as though you were pouting at his denial. jayce thinks he’s going insane, because as manipulative as you were, there was no way he could say no to you. not with that look on your face. the one he can’t see but knows it’s there. 

“doesn’t matter,” jayce whispers. “it’s not ri- right.” 

you want to laugh. it’s not right? so it’s all right and just if he sneaks into your bed almost every other night for you to get him off simply because said girlfriend never could—nights of sweat and sinful lovemaking that end with him sneaking out of your room with a limp—but it’s not okay if you want to talk about it? how was that fair? 

“you don’t like her anyway, do you?” you mutter. “you should just get rid of her and be with me.” you tighten your hold on him. you want it to bruise. you want him to go home with your marks on his body. you want mel to ask about them and jayce squirming as he tries to think of a stupid excuse to fool her again. faulty gym equipment. sparring session gone wrong. you know all of his excuses. it’s funny, the way he tries to patch things up. “this is cruel… to the both of us. don’t you wanna get this over with?” 

“it’s- unh, complicated!” jayce moans, but there’s nothing complicated about it, he just doesn’t want to talk. doesn’t want to feel the shame and guilt making his guts tangle and heart pound—the way you fit into him so perfectly, so innately, like you’ve always belonged inside him, a missing piece to his puzzle. 

he bites back a whine as the thick head of your cock pushes against his swollen prostate, and he’s not sure if he can even feel his legs at this point. it’s humiliating, the way you’re cooing nasty words into his ear, handprints branding his hips as you tug him up only to slam downwards against him, pushing him further down into the mattress with every heavy thrust. 

“why? what’s keeping you then? hah. don’t tell me. does she fuck you like this too?” you snarl, sucking hot purple bruises down the column of his neck, salt and iron underneath your tongue making you hungry, and he keens. “so desperate for cock you’d let your girlfriend fuck you, jayce? well? does she fuck you as good as i do?” 

“noo,” jayce slurs, shaking his head, “nothing’s as good. you’re the best. love it. love you.” 

“really?” you bark out a laugh, and he nods dumbly, like his body’s conditioned to respond to your every whim, wanting to please, to serve. “well, i don’t see it at all. only thing you could ever be in love with is my cock.” 

“ah- ah, yeah, that too,” he whines, “love you more.” 

“liar,” you growl, and he sobs out at the way your length drags across his walls, thick and girthy, missing his prostate on purpose. it’s a punishment, jayce knows. he’s sorry. he feels so guilty. “pretty slutty liar. you’ll do anything to get stuffed, won’t you? even if it means cheating on your little girlfriend. you’ll even enjoy it, the moment you break her heart.” 

jayce shakes his head, tears blurring his vision. he can’t even say anything at this point, with the way you’re forcing him to take, fucking the words out of him. he can’t help being addicted to this. it’s too good. mel would understand, wouldn’t she? she would, if only she could have a taste of it. it’s not his fault. not really. 

“you probably think she’ll never know. you probably think she’ll never find out.” you’re talking again, but the sounds buzz by, barely intelligible. jayce swallows, letting your accusation wash over him. he has been careful, hasn’t he. surely she won’t know. surely she can’t know. “the way you start crying when you’re about to cum. you think she’ll never know about that, right?” 

he doesn’t know what you mean, but it’s so hard to think. there’s wetness on his cheeks and the low flame in his belly has blazed into a forest fire. he wants to cum. he needs it. he needs it hard and rough, bruises on his waist and hips and love bites on his collarbones, hard, heavy thrusts that make him feel dizzy and high and stupid, drowning him in the throes of pleasure that only you can give to him. 

“please,” jayce begs, tears streaming down his face. “i want, ngh… ah, want your cum in me.” 

and before he knows it, there’s the rush of hot cum flooding his hole, the sweaty press of your chest against his back, your hips trembling and bucking against his, and it’s so good it makes him see stars. but you don’t stop. it’s messy and filthy, and pure bliss when he feels you snake a hand into his hair and wrench his head up, rough and careless just the way he likes it. 

his eyes roll back before his cock starts helplessly spurting at the sight of mel standing in the doorway, watching him being bred like a whore.

VANDER

. . . vander thinks he maybe maybe made a mistake, telling you to be rough with him. because this is exactly the kind of rough he likes. 

“oh, fuck, sweetness,” he moans, arousal bleeding into his guttural voice as he arches his back and cants his hips backwards to receive your thrusts, taking you deeper inside, his ass bouncing every time you meet his hips with a wet, nasty ‘pap’. “t-thaat’s it, kid. right there, fuck, harder…” 

he’s clutching his pillow tightly, waves of pleasure shackling him to the bed as you’re pounding away at his hole from behind. you’ve snaked a hand into his hair to wrench his head up roughly, and a low whine pushes its way past his lips, punctuated by a sharp, deadly thrust aimed at his prostate. he’s pretty sure his own cock’s rubbed raw against the sheets, spurting so much pre there’s a sticky, slippery pool underneath him—easing the steamy push and glide. 

there are stars bursting at the corners of his eyes, threatening to consume his vision, and he can vaguely feel his toes curl and thighs spasm at every brush of your cock against his bundle of nerves. there’s sweat dripping down his face, a salty tang on his tongue, and he wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, hearing nothing but his own heavy pants and groans, attuned to the rhythm of your thrusts. it’s too good. almost makes him feel young again. he’s halfway through his forties, and yet you’re fucking him like he’s twenty. 

vander can feel your hands all over him, pressing heavy bruises onto the tender fat of his waist and hips, bodily dragging him back onto your cock every time you ram forward, making sure to put your entire weight behind it. the mattress is letting out horrible creaking sounds, the headboard of the bed slamming into the wall in perfect tempo, and the both of you are going to regret this later, but fuck, he doesn’t care. 

it’s addicting. it’s violent. vander shouldn’t be enjoying this, but he is. 

“fuck, love, y’er gonna make me cum already,” he chokes out, and it’s more of a drunken slur, really — there’s something about the way you’re treating him that makes him dizzy and weak at the knees. his fists are clenched, grasping at the bedsheets every time he feels like snaking a hand between his legs and jerking off to your thrusts. he wants to enjoy it, savour it—the way you’re taking him, pressing him into the mattress like you’re trying to break the bed before you break him, gaze hungry enough to swallow him up in your lust. 

“go ahead and cum, vander,” you drawl, grabbing a handful of his ass before sharply spanking him across, the sting rewarding you with a full-body shiver. “i want you to cum like it’s your last night on earth.” 

who the absolute fuck does this kid think he is, vander thinks, and he quickly buries his face back into the pillow because he knows he’s going to get loud. you’re insane. insanely bad at dirty talk, but your hunger makes up for it. he’s never liked dirty talking that much, but fuck, if you weren’t something different. cum like it’s his last night on earth? he really underestimated how greedy you were. 

“cocky,” he wheezes instead, once he’s caught his breath, “y’er gonna, haah, hafta fuck me harder for that to happen.” it’s yet another bad decision, and he’s digging his own grave, he knows it. as if you aren’t already fucking him within an inch of his life—the bulbous shape of your cockhead digging into his prostate with such immaculate precision, pressing the shape of your handprints into his skin as you fuck him with your eyes, your hands and your cock. 

hungry. intense. unforgettable. vander doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of it. 

before he can even breathe, you’ve hooked one arm under his thigh, tossing him over onto his back like you’re flipping a fucking pancake, and vander’s not a delicate man by all means. without wasting a second, you’re pushing inside him again, groaning shamelessly as his wet, warm cave engulfs you perfectly. vander makes a desperate noise, eyes squeezing shut—there’s no pillow to muffle his cries or hide his expressions from you this time, but he’s far too close to be embarrassed. 

the new position’s got you so deep inside him, and it’s getting harder to breathe, almost as though he could feel you all the way to his throat. it’s uncomfortable and very inconsiderate of his aching back, but the mind-numbing pleasure hammering away at his sweet spot makes up for it. 

“s-so fuckin’ good, kid,” he pants out, arching his back with a moan as you reach down to grope at his tits, the muscles plump and soft with tender age, hole clenching around you tightly every time you tug at his perky nipples. his cock’s all leaky, drooling over his stomach and making a mess, and he’s so aroused it’s almost endearing. “fuck me… god, fuck me.” 

he’s going to cum hands-free, vander thinks, and shit, you’re going to be so smug about this after you’re done with having your way with him. vander sneaks a glance at you—eyelids fluttering, making little grunts of pleasure every time you bully your way into his tight wet warmth. it embarrassingly makes the back of his neck burn, makes him feel all hot and sexy and wanted. 

“yeah? best cock you’ve ever taken, vander?” you purr, and his breath stutters, seizing up with a yell and then he’s fucking cumming with you balls-deep inside him. guess you’ll take that as a yes.

SILCO

silco doesn’t know how long he’s been bent over in that same fucking position, but he doesn’t plan on making you stop anytime soon. 

“darling, not so rough. . .” he gasps out, nails raking down the expensive wood of his office desk while you plow away at him from behind, his hole sopping wet but tight, as though you haven’t cum two times in him already. he can feel his knees knocking into the hard front of the desk with every brutal thrust, the weeping tip of his erection grazing the cool mahogany, the pleasure inside him making his lower belly burn with a flame he hasn’t felt in a long time. 

“why?” you grin, draping yourself over his half-clothed stature, his pants yanked down to his ankles as he’s bent over to take. you shuffle forward, making sure his ass is pressed snugly against your crotch before giving an experimental roll of your hips, always reaching deeper, for more. “worried that they’ll hear?” 

silco presses his lips together in a thin line, tilting his face away from yours, and if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought he were sulking. you laughed. it was just too easy to piss him off sometimes. 

“i’m just playing around, baby. your office is soundproofed, no?” you straightened yourself, running a hand over the smooth, sensitive expanse of his back before returning to your firm grip on his bruised hips. he gave a shuddering sigh, trying to relax as you started to rock into him again with strong, steady thrusts. 

“it doesn’t matter,” he rasps, “we’re, hah, being too loud… sweetheart. s-sevika is right outside.” 

“don’t care,” you mutter. “i’m pent up. ‘least you can do is let me fuck you stupid. you’ll let me, right?” 

silco makes a noise at the back of his throat, half from displeasure, the other half from the sharp curl of arousal in his lower abdomen, making his cock twitch and leak. fuck if it didn’t turn him on when you talked to him like this. he settles for burying his face into his arms, preparing himself for whatever you were going to put him through. 

“be gentle,” he whispers, letting out a shuddering sigh. “i’m not so young anymore.” 

you could feel a grin pulling at the corners of your lips. yeah. sure, you were going to be gentle with him. with him looking like that. 

“hngh, r-right there…” silco mewls out, knees buckling repeatedly as he tries not to think about how loud he’s being. he supposes he could gag himself with something, your fingers, maybe, get them warm and wet for you while you use his face as leverage to fuck him harder, but he knows how much his noises spur you on, and right now he really doesn’t want to piss you off. not when you’re indulging him so well. “that’s it… you’re so good… darling.” 

“not so shy anymore?” you hummed, licking a hot stripe up his neck, his gasp twisting into a whine. “think we can make you louder?” 

“sweetheart,” he sighs as he feels your hand wrap around his throat, and he tilts his head back to let you grip it properly. “you already know what i want.” 

“well, i don’t think so.” you smile, leaning down to press your cheek against his, working away from behind with short, firm thrusts that steal his breath away. “remind me. did we use the magic word yet?” 

but just as he’s about to answer with snark, there’s the rap of fists against his office door, and silco feels his heart plummet. not now, when things were about to get good—this was the worst timing possible. “everything alright, boss?” 

“yes,” silco pants, “fuck… yes.” 

you can feel his nails dig into the back of your thigh, warning you not to pull out. you’re thick and heavy, resting against his stomach, and silco feels so fucking good and full. you can’t stop now. not until he’s had his fill. he can vaguely feel your warm seed trailing its way down his perineum in a slow trickle, and fuck, he wants more. wants to feel stuffed even without you inside him, drowsy and content. 

he blinks, brows furrowing as he catches himself fantasizing about you yet again. should he even be having thoughts like these in his forties? was this healthy? sex with you was life-changingly—and now apparently hormone-alteringly good. 

“sir?” sevika’s growl interrupts his train of thought. and yeah, not to mention—his second-in-command is right outside his office, while all he can think about is cock. shit. your big, leaky cock, buried to the hilt inside his hole. he wonders if it’ll be gaping once you’re done with him. and oh. cum. loads of your cum, filling up every inch of space inside him. making it hard to breathe. making him swel— “is someone in there with you?” 

“yes,” silco wheezes dumbly as you roll your hips against him with meaning, forcing him to take you deeper. he trembles, shifting back slightly to fuck himself on your cock, forcing a sharp inhale from you. “we are busy. you’re, oh… dismissed, sevika.” 

the silence is loud, save for the almost-silent squelches of your cock maneuvering inside him with all the cum stored in his belly. 

you can feel his heart pounding from the way your chest is pressed against his bare back. or maybe it’s your own. his walls squeeze around you, sinfully tight, pulling a muffled moan from where you have your teeth sunken into his shoulder. fuck. he’s—silco’s actually into this. you’d have never guessed he would be such a freak, for lack of a better word, but with how things were going . . . you didn’t mind it. not one bit. it drove you crazy with want, if anything. 

“... if you say so, boss.” the sound of retreating footsteps fills you with both relief and disappointment, but before you could even process what that means, you can feel silco gazing at you through his lashes, low and scrutinizing and something needy. 

“did i say you could stop?” silco grunts. “fuck me.” 

you let out a shaky sigh, hips already bucking back into the warm mould of your cock—and the next sound that drives past his lips is a loud and unabashed sob of your name. 

you think you might have unlocked something new in your lover.

VIKTOR

“it won’t fit,” viktor slurs, moans tumbling out of his mouth as he gives a shaky roll of his hips. he’s not quite there yet, with only the tip sucked in, but he’s making good progress. “i’m terribly s-sorry, dear. your… appendage. it’s too big.” 

his eyes flutter shut at the feeling of your hands forming a ring around his waist, strong and firm, a warm assurance that there was a possibility… although slight, that he’d make it. 

“it’ll fit,” you murmur, kissing the sensitive spot at the back of his ear, the one that makes him suck in a sharp breath and shudder. “you’re doing very good, love. just… a little more, yeah?” 

viktor looks down. it’s nowhere near a little more. you’re barely halfway in and he’s already thinking about quitting—has been, since the stupidly huge head of your cock breached his rim, making him feel a stretch that no amount of fingers or plastic toys could replicate. it was something extraordinary. overwhelmingly so. 

“please,” he mewls, forehead dropping to rest on your shoulder. “t-touch me? i think i’ll probably, hah, ease up a little if you would… oh, yes. thank you, dear. thank you.” 

it’s… in simple words, too much. you’re usually very considerate, taking your time with him with your fingers, rubbing on his tender walls until he loosens enough for you to slip another one in. the night would then end with you fucking his thighs, sticky and slick with his own cum. it’s good. it’s enough. that was until he started having thoughts of what it would feel like if you were inside him. 

but viktor would’ve never imagined it would be like this. the difference in size was just… comical. you were so deep inside him already, the impossible girth forming an obscene bulge over his abdomen, making him whine with the fullness. if this is already what it feels like to have you inside, then just what would it feel like to have you spill inside him?

he can’t lie—he’s spent nights waiting for you to fall asleep first so that he could scoop up some of the cum you had missed on the sheets, quietly fingering himself with the cold slickness. it didn’t feel right, even if it was yours. it just wasn’t the same. he wanted, no, needed to feel it for himself. 

it doesn’t help, the way you’re stroking him, ever so gentle with him. your huge palm covers his entire length without having to move much, huge thumb rubbing at his leaking tip, and viktor’s never been so hard before in his whole life. he’s so close already, hole fluttering around you uncontrollably, and it’s almost cute how it looks like it’s going to swallow you up. maybe it is. 

maybe it’ll fit. 

“last few inches,” you pant, fingers trembling slightly where you’re struggling not to press bruises into the cup of his hips. “can i-? please, vik. it’s so good. you’re so good. i just need a little more. please, baby.” 

“yes,” viktor blurts out, before he realises just what he agreed to—but within the next second he can feel something abnormally large pushing its way past his tight walls, faster and rougher than before, even as he tries to clench and hold still—it’s mean and a little too much, but then the back of his thighs meets hot skin and he nearly blacks out with the stretch of it all. 

“ngh,” viktor keens, trembling with exhaustion as he tries to settle into your lap comfortably with such a large intrusion within him. “soo full…” 

you sigh in pleasure, hands going back to his hips where they belong, pushing him down until you’re satisfied that he’s properly taken everything you’ve given him. it’s not a demand, viktor thinks, more like a comfort. telling him that you’ve always known he would’ve been able to take you in the first place. that this is where he belongs, filled to the brim with you and you only. 

he lets out a shuddering moan when you start to slowly bounce him on your lap, lifting him up with ease a good inch or two, before rolling your hips to meet his, pushing yourself deeper. “shit, vik…” you groan, and he cries out with every brush against his prostate, the sheer size of you making it impossible to miss it. “you’re so tight, baby… so perfect. i’m right here with you, okay? easy now, you’re doing so good.” 

you’re so good to him as always, whispering sweet nothings into his ear, but it’s different this time, and fuuck. viktor thinks he’s dying with how good it feels. he tries to steer his hips, to actually ride you instead of having you manhandling him up and down your cock, but there’s hardly any friction left now that he’s properly stretched, and any attempt results in him collapsing back to his knees, the pleasure making him weak. 

he settles for hanging onto you, arms wrapping around your neck and choking out little whimpers as you rock upwards into his waiting hole again and again, toes curling and nails scratching red trails down your back with the all-consuming pleasure.

it’s driving him crazy, the fullness, the simple thought of you pumping your seed and sperm into him, of making love with you. it’s nothing like the way it was written in the textbooks he had spent nights researching—it’s beyond anything he would have ever imagined. 

“please,” viktor sobs out, feeling strangely empty every time you pull out halfway, as ironic as it was—as though there was a chance you would leave him fully. the thought of it hurt. if only you could fit inside him forever. if only. “stay…” he cries, “cum inside. m-make me yours.” 

you lean forward, pressing your lips against his in a hurried kiss, at the same time grinding so deep viktor thinks, for a split of a second, that that might be you he’s feeling in his stomach. the broken wail he gives is loud and muffled, and you lap up the drool on the side of his face, watching as your lover’s eyes flutter shut at the feeling of being filled, properly this time, to the brink of spilling.

masterlist!

[simonsrileyhusband]

nsfw

i cant stop thinking about loser simon who is a virgin, he is unaware of how big he is, he just thinks he is average size. and when he pulls his boxers down, his big cock stands tall in front of your amused face.

"i-i thought you said it was... average."

"it isnt? i-is it small?" he starts fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, pulling it down a bit.

"no! are you serious? simon, you are huge." his face turns red and his palms start to sweat.

"i didnt knew, sorry." you gently push him into the bed and kneel down in front of him, his eyes cant leave your body, he feels like he will cum with only that sight of you. "don't apologize baby, ill make sure you feel good."