#x male reader imagines

[zaceouiswriting]

The Football Stud

Character: Gabe x male reader, (mentioned) Scott McCall

Universe: Teen wolf

Warnings: Smut: degradation, humiliation, choking

Author's Note: I finally finished one of my smaller works, and for some reason, it had to be smut—though that's a problem for another time. Since I haven't written smut in a while, I'd love to hear from you all if it's okay and if you liked it as much as I hope you would.

You were bent over the counter by the sinks in one of the school's bathrooms, your head pressed against the surface by strong, immobile hands. At the same time, hard thrusts from behind slammed you in a harsh rhythm against the same counter. You would surely be bruised soon enough, but you didn't care.

"Fuck," a deep voice yells from behind you. "Why are you still so damn tight?" he asks, a smug tone in his already arrogant voice.

That was a good question. He's been forcing himself on you for months now, ever since he caught you staring in the locker room after gym class one day. You couldn't take your eyes off his perfectly muscular body or the big, thick, limp penis he unashamedly showed off to everyone before you got in the shower.

Back then, you never thought he would fuck you, or any guy, for that matter. But you'd be lying if you said you didn't like it in some ways; feeling his hands all over your body, his sharp, brutal eyes constantly staring at you, even in class, only for him to tap your desk in the middle of class as he passes by, signaling you to follow him so he can fuck you wherever he wanted.

"You fucking faggots are all the same!" he continues, his humiliating, degrading words driving you to the brink of lust-fueled madness. "You stare at me and drool over my body like I'm just a piece of meat," his words become a little slurred, "but I'm not like you, nothing more than a hole that needs to be filled by a real man!"

You couldn't deny his words. After all, you were desperately attracted to him. You were in the same class your entire school career, watching him grow from this scrawny, whiny little boy to this handsome, muscular flirt. Rumor has it that he's a real stud who apparently fucked his way through the cheerleading squad and most of the other girls in school, something you never could have imagined.

Even though he is brutal to you, you feel honored to be the one this man completely destroys. And even though you are the same age as him, you don't feel like you deserve to be called a "man" compared to him.

While you were lost in thought, the other suddenly grabbed the back of your head and pulled it upwards so that you had to look at him through the mirror while your upper body was still pressed to the counter surface by his big, strong other hand.

"Look at yourself!" he commanded, his face grim, as if he were doing something disgusting, but his rhythmic thrusts did not let up or slow down in any way. His rock-hard cock pulsed violently against your inner walls. "What do you see?"

When you finally did as he commanded, you saw your eyes red with tears, your mouth wide open, and your head was in complete euphoria. The sheer size of his cock alone gave you more than just pleasure, although it still hurt a little, but not as bad as the first time when he almost ripped you to pieces when he fucked you dry. You couldn't walk for nearly a week after that.

If you were honest with yourself, you felt and looked pathetic for letting yourself be taken advantage of by this stud who will surely play college football and maybe even go pro. Yet all you cared about was being his toy, even though you wanted more. You were satisfied that you were at least something to him, even if it was just his sperm vault that was regularly filled with his hot cum. But as a side effect, he was also fucking your brains out at the same time, which made you wonder who was really taking advantage of whom.

A sharp pain, worse than the cock trying to stretch your inner walls, snaps you out of your thoughts. As your eyes focus, you see a large red mark on your face. It's not the first time he's hit you, but you've been a good boy, just like he wants, so this time, it hurt you more than just physically.

"Don't look at me like an innocent slut!" His harsh words make you even sadder. Suddenly, he holds you tight, grabs your hair roughly, and pulls you towards him. "You know I hate it when you don't look and act like my little whore, so what's wrong?"

With tears in your eyes, you didn't want to, but you spoke anyway. "Why did you hit me?"

With a look of contempt you've never seen before in his mysterious dark orbs, he looks down at you like you're an idiot. He rolls his eyes in annoyance; it's almost playful, only to push you back to the surface harshly, immediately picking up his rhythm but thrusting into you harder than before. He was so brutal that you cried out involuntarily, only to see him grinning like a psychopath in the mirror; then you knew it was all intentional.

“That’s right, bitch, scream my name,” he yells euphorically, visibly happy about the pain he is inflicting on you.

Contrary to what he thought you would do, you gathered all your strength and covered your mouth with your hands, visibly angering him. Even though you knew he would punish you for it, you thought it was fair since he didn't answer your question. But when you saw him gritting his teeth, you almost broke down and did it anyway because you wanted nothing more than to be his good boy. After all, he always treated you nicely when you were good to him, but you had to make something clear right then.

He, on the other hand, was already at the end of his tether, slamming his hands onto your bare waist and holding it in a grip that would undoubtedly leave you with more bruises. But you didn't even care, too scared because you already knew what was coming next.

Slowly he pulls his cock out of your abused hole, all the way to the tip, and with a devilish grin, maintaining eye contact, his hips suddenly snap forward. The force pushes you to the mirror while the pain causes your arms to fall like cooked noodles at your sides. You didn't even notice how you finally let out a primitive scream, as your brain was already mostly incapacitated.

“Gabe!” You finally shouted so loudly that everyone in the surrounding classrooms could hear it, even if you didn't know it yet.

“Louder!” Gabe orders you in an icy tone, perfectly concealing his prior pure excitement.

And as ordered, you scream his name so loudly that your voice breaks. Through a veil of tears, you see Gabe's grin in the mirror; it's eerie, almost dark, like the smirk of a murderer.

But suddenly, Gabe leaned forward; his thrusts became a little sloppier. His hot breath tickled your neck, but despite the way he treated you, you were not afraid; on the contrary. If he ordered it, you would worship the ground he walks on. Carefully, he took your chin between his fingers and forced you to make eye contact with him again.

"Now tell me," his deep voice echoed in your soul, sending not only shivers through your entire body but your brain exploding in pure ecstasy, "who owns this hole?" He moved his cock slowly in and out, making it clear that he meant your loose asshole.

Feeling his cock suddenly throb viciously, you moaned his name. As you watched his face become even more smug and confident, you realized what a stud he had become, knowing full well that he was superior to everyone else. Your already rapidly beating heart nearly jumped out of your throat.

"And who owns you, slut?" He pronounced the degrading name prominently and slapped your left butt cheek so hard that you knew you would have another bruise there in the morning.

Immediately after the slap, he stopped his thrusts to hear your reaction, knowing without a doubt that your response would not be the result of pure lust controlling you.

Out of breath, it took a while, but when you saw Gabe's waiting look, you swallowed hard. 

"You, Gabe," you finally managed to choke out, your words almost drowned out by your heavy breathing.

To you, your whispered words felt like a promise, an invisible contract that you will probably never be able to escape. Yet you didn't mind.

"Who?" Gabe asks again, his grin becoming sinister, his hand tightening around your chin while his other hand quickly begins to clamp around your throat.

"You, Gabe!" you squeaked with all the strength you had left. Your voice echoed through the bathroom, but you couldn't stop; you repeated his name like a mantra.

Even Gabe seemed surprised when you started to cry. It wasn't because of the pain, at least not physically. Although you never minded being just a hole for him, something inside you broke in that moment; you suddenly realized that there would never be anything more, no matter how much you wanted it to be.

Even with all your heartache, a moan suddenly erupted from you. Your mind became foggy almost instantly as something struck deep inside you.

Through the mirror, you saw Gabe standing upright again, his letterman jacket hanging halfheartedly over his shoulders, his perfectly fluffy, styled hair in disarray, but most striking were his facial features, stern but compassionate. Despite his look, he first gently ran his rough fingertips—due to all the training he does—over your soft back until he forced you where he always said you belonged: bent over and wide open for him. Like a good, obedient slut.

“You’re so tight for me,” he murmurs, his voice slightly trembling.

Just from his voice, you knew he was close to coming, even though he hadn't fucked you in almost a minute. Suddenly his thrusts became faster, distracting your mind from your emotional turmoil as he endlessly pushed his cock against your prostate to the point you couldn't control yourself anymore. Your hands twitched at your sides, clenching them as if you were searching for something to grab onto; you gasped like a bitch in heat until your limbs fell back onto the counter, your head bouncing off it a second later.

"Fuck, I'm close... I'm clo- Fuck!" Gabe's deep voice echoed off the bathroom walls as his body stiffened.

You felt copious amounts of cum filling your insides to the brim as his sweaty hands pressed deeper into your flesh.

But as you feel this wonderful, warm, thick sensation, your body gives in to exhaustion and knocks you out on the spot.

When you awoke from your short nap, you saw a shadow standing over you. You looked around anxiously and found yourself on the floor, lying on his letterman jacket. When you felt the soft fabric under your overstimulated cock, you came a third time in less than twenty minutes.

As you turned your head ever so slightly, you saw something you never thought possible. There stood Gabe, wiping your ass. He looked disgustingly at his hand as he wiped his cum off and out of your hole. However, when he caught your eye, his annoyance turned to anger.

"Fucking faggot," he mutters, clearly dissatisfied. "Can't even take it up the ass without passing out, pathetic whore."

A feeling of shame began to grow within you. It only worsened when he stood up, washed his hands, and simply walked towards the door. You could have sworn you heard your heart breaking at that moment.

“Your jacket.” Your voice was just a whisper, but Gabe halted anyway, his hand already on the doorknob.

"Don't think anything of it," he presses through clenched teeth. "I don't want your worthless sperm on it." He pulled a disgusted face again and even went so far as to spit right at your feet. "I would never want anything back from such an easy slut like you."

You lowered your head and nodded, understanding that he didn't want anything you touched. But despite everything, he didn't leave the room. Gabe sighed heavily. You saw out of the corner of your eye how he wiped his face, looking somewhat displeased and defeated simultaneously.

"Tomorrow morning, same time, same place," he mutters dejectedly. Your head snaps up, unable to believe you heard him correctly. You're amazed at the warm face he showed you for the first time. But he must've realized his mistake as his face twisted to anger again. "You're just a better slut than most girls, but if you pass out again, I'll hand you down to the rest of the football team. Got it?"

You nodded happily, unable to hide your euphoria, which caused Gabe to chuckle darkly, but you didn't care. For the first time, he actually saw you as more than just a hole, upgrading you to one of his sluts, which was better than being just a piece of meat, and maybe there's hope for much more in the future.

Lost in your dreams, you didn't notice Gabe finally leaving the bathroom. You lay there for another minute before finally gathering your clothes strewn throughout the room and putting them back on, even though they were gross.

The second you stepped out of the bathroom, Scott was outside the door asking if everything was okay.

You knew he meant well, but it pissed you off. He's always on your case, wanting you to give up on Gabe, but at the end of the year, you were both going to different colleges anyway, so you wanted to use this time to at least get fucked properly. With a scowl on your hardened face, you told him you were great, pushed past him, and went to find your friends, ignoring all of Scott's attempts to pry deeper into your business.

[Masterlist]

[zapreportsblog]

↱ stop toying with her ↰

➘ summary : billy and Stu are toying with Sidney so much she runs off and escapes, right into the arms of the third ghostface

➘ a/n : such a misleading title but oh well, this was inspire my this post by @dominantslasherking ooh and I’ll be writing a fem version of this too

➘ poly ghostface x male reader, stu marcher x male reader x billy loomis, ghostface x male reader, slashers x reader

Stu and Billy stood in the dimly lit kitchen, their eyes locked on Sidney, who was backed into a corner. The tension in the room was palpable as they prepared to reveal their true identities and the reasons behind their terrifying actions.

Sidney's heart raced, her mind filled with a mix of fear and confusion. She had known Stu and Billy for years, but she never could have imagined that they were capable of such horrors. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself as she demanded answers.

"Why? Why are you doing this?" Sidney asked, her voice trembling.

Stu smirked, his eyes glinting with a twisted excitement. "Isn't it obvious, Sidney? We did it for the thrill, the power. We wanted to be remembered."

Billy's cold gaze shifted towards Sidney, his voice calm yet filled with a chilling certainty. "We're Ghostface, Sidney. The ones behind the mask. The orchestrators of this deadly game."

Sidney's eyes widened in disbelief. She had heard of the Ghostface killer, the terrifying figure responsible for a string of brutal murders that had plagued their small town. But to hear that it was Stu and Billy, her friends, was beyond comprehension.

Stu continued, a sadistic grin spreading across his face. "You see, Sidney, we were tired of being nobodies. We wanted to be at the center of attention, to become legends. What better way to achieve that than by being the ones who terrorize our own town?"

Billy nodded in agreement, his eyes burning with a twisted sense of purpose. "We meticulously planned every murder, every scare, every torment. We wanted to make sure we left a lasting mark on Woodsboro, and on you, Sidney."

Sidney's mind raced, trying to process the enormity of what she was hearing. "But why me? Why target me specifically?"

Stu's eyes narrowed, his tone filled with a mix of mockery and resentment. "Oh, Sidney, you were simply the perfect choice. The final girl, the one who always survives. We wanted to test your strength, break you down, and make you realize that no one is truly safe."

Billy stepped forward, his voice dripping with malice. "We wanted to see the fear in your eyes, Sidney. To witness your vulnerability and watch as you fought for your life. It was all part of the sick game we created."

Sidney's anger began to replace her fear. "You're sick, both of you! How could you betray our friendship like this?"

Stu chuckled, his voice tinged with a hint of madness. "Friendship? Oh, Sidney, friendship is just a tool, a means to an end. In the end, it's all about power, control, and the thrill of the chase."

Billy stepped closer, his eyes locked on Sidney's. "We wanted to see if we could outsmart you, to prove that even the strongest can be broken. And now, Sidney, it's your turn to play our game."

As Sidney stumbled back, her heart pounding in her chest, she quickly turned and rushed away from Stu and Billy. Panic consumed her as she desperately tried to find an escape route, her mind racing with fear and disbelief.

As she turned a corner, Sidney collided with a strong, sturdy figure. She looked up, her eyes filled with tears, and found herself falling into the arms of a big, husky man. He held her firmly, providing a sense of security that she desperately needed in that moment.

"They're the killers! We have to leave, now!" Sidney pleaded, her voice trembling with fear.

But to her surprise, the man just stood there, his expression impassive and unmoving. Sidney's heart sank as she wondered why he wasn't reacting, why he wasn't helping her. Was he in shock? Did he not understand the gravity of the situation?

Before she could fully process her disappointment, Stu and Billy appeared around the corner, their smirks widening at the sight of Sidney being held in place by the mysterious man. Stu's voice dripped with sadistic delight as he called out to the man.

"Babe, grab her for me," Stu whined, his tone filled with a sickening mix of entitlement and cruelty.

Sidney's eyes widened in horror as she realized the truth. The man she had hoped would help her was working with Stu and Billy. Her cries turned to sobs as she struggled against his grip, feeling betrayed and helpless.

"(M/n), please, don't do this! Help me!" Sidney pleaded, tears streaming down her face.

But the man, known as (M/n), remained silent, his grip tightening around her. Sidney's heart shattered as she realized that she was alone in this battle for survival. She had put her trust in the wrong person, and now she would pay the price.

As Stu and Billy closed in, their smiles twisted with sadistic pleasure, Sidney's determination resurfaced. She refused to let them break her spirit. With a surge of strength, she fought against (M/n)’s hold, desperately searching for a way to escape.

"Why are you doing this?" Sidney's voice trembled, muffled by the fabric of (m/n)'s shirt. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her breaths came in short, uneven bursts.

“It’s always that fucking question!” Billy groans out as he and Stu stood a few distances away.

(m/n)'s grip tightened slightly, his fingers gently stroking her back as he whispered, "Because I understand what it's like, Sidney. To feel like you're drowning in your own thoughts, your own darkness."

(m/n)'s gaze held a mixture of empathy and vulnerability. "But, for the first time, I've found someone who doesn't recoil from my own struggles, my own demons. Someone who doesn't see me as a broken puzzle that needs to be fixed or a problem that needs to be solved."

Billy brows furrowed, "You’re not broken, (m/n). You're not a problem."

A soft, sad smile tugged at (m/n)'s lips. "See Sidney,” he says glancing downward at the smaller female, “That's exactly what I've always wished someone would say to me. You see beyond the surface, beyond the facade I've carefully built. They accept me for who I am, even the parts I've kept hidden away."

Sidney's voice quivered as she pleaded, her eyes wide with desperation, "Please, (m/n), just let me go. I promise that I won’t tell anyone it was you!”

(m/n) held onto her tightly, his expression resolute as he shook his head. "No, Sidney. There's no use in running. We have to end this movie now."

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she struggled against his grip, her voice cracking, "I can't. Pleasure, I'm scared, (m/n). I can't do it. Please don’t do this, I know you’re a good guy!”

His grip on her didn't waver, his eyes holding a mixture of sympathy and determination. "I know you're scared, Sidney. But running won't change anything. The movie's over now. The main character has to die to protect the killer's secret."

Sidney's gaze locked onto his, confusion etched on her face. "What are you talking about?"

(m/n) let out a deep sigh, his fingers gently wiping away her tears. "I mean, we can't outrun our problems, Sidney. Just like in the movies, sometimes the hero has to make a sacrifice to ensure that the truth remains hidden."

Her breath hitched, realization dawning upon her. "You're going to kill me?”

(m/n) nodded solemnly. "Exactly. Now listen, don’t let fear control you. You have to stand up to it, face it head-on, and accept that this is where and how you die.”

As Sidney absorbed his words, she felt a mixture of fear and determination welling up within her. Slowly, her struggles ceased, and she leaned into (m/n)'s embrace, his presence was always a calming one even now as he held her against her will.

Just then, the room echoed with cheers, Billy and Stu grinning from ear to ear. "Way to go, (m/n)!" Billy exclaimed.

Stu joined in, laughing, "Yeah, you tell her! It's the final showdown!"

“Break her neck babe!” Stu spits out with a grin, “No just stab that little bitch up,” billy counters with his own idea.

“How troublesome,” mumbles (m/n) grabbing the knife from out of Sidney’s hand. From the moment she had been grabbed by him he was surprised she hadn’t retaliated against him and stabbed him but then again she might’ve forgotten all about it, after all he had that effect on people. Making them forget their surroundings and get lost in his presence.

Grabbing her swiftly by the sides of her head he twists her head swiftly, and drops it back down towards his sides as Sidney’s body goes limp on the floor.

Stu and Billy exchanged triumphant looks, and then they turned their attention to (m/n), their eyes filled with affection and pride. In unison, they stepped closer to him, their smiles widening as they wrapped their arms around him in a tight hug.

"Congratulations, babe," Stu said, his voice filled with admiration. "You did it. We knew you could."

Billy nodded, his own hug warm and supportive. "Yeah, you really showed them. We're so proud of you."

(m/n) felt a surge of happiness as he hugged them back, their closeness radiating comfort and love. "Thanks, you guys. I couldn't have done it without you by my side."

Stu and Billy exchanged a knowing glance before turning back to (m/n) with playful grins. "And now, for the victory kiss," Stu announced, leaning in to capture (m/n)'s lips in a sweet, celebratory kiss.

Billy joined in, his lips meeting (m/n)'s in a tender kiss that conveyed their shared joy and affection. As they pulled back, their smiles remained, and they locked eyes with (m/n) once more.

"We're always here for you, no matter what," Stu said, his voice sincere.

"Exactly," Billy agreed. "We've got your back, just like you've got ours."

(m/n) felt a deep sense of gratitude for the two people who had stood by his side through thick and thin. Their love and support were unwavering, and in that moment, he realized how lucky he was to have them in his life.

"Thank you," (m/n) said softly, his heart full. "I'm so glad I have you both."

Stu and Billy shared a fond smile before pulling (m/n) into another tight hug. The three of them stood there, basking in the warmth of their connection, knowing that their bond was unbreakable and their love was something truly special.

[nosyrobin]

Teddy bear!reader who’s trapped in the Wayne household.

Teddy bear!reader who’s practically some weird cuddly entity that resembles a teddy bear with a human form

Teddy bear!reader who has to endure all the venting, ranting the batfamily has to tell them. They can’t help but frown as it starts to get draining.

Teddy bear!reader who’s always hugged when seen. They can’t get out of the tight hold the boys get them into to. Even Bruce doesn’t let them go easily.

Teddy bear!reader who has a chip in them, shocking them when they don’t keep up the “happy bear” facade. You’re supposed to be the cute teddy they love.

Teddy bear!reader forced to be into human form so one of the boys can take them out and spoil them. But it’s only to show others that you belong to them if you somehow escape them.

Teddy bear!reader who’s starting to crack. The cuddly teddy is starting to be a grizzly bear.

————-

But that only stops when you get shocking pain in your neck. You roar, clawing at your own skin and fur. You transform between bear and human. Dick frowns as he hold the controller down. Damian could only hold a scowl watching his beloved animal act out.

Jason sits watching you beg for the pain to stop, Tim could only smile. Bruce has a hand on Dick’s shoulder. He squeezed it seeing you about to pass you. Dick stops the shocking pain.

You whimper, holding your arms. You feel your claws poke your own bruised body. Bruce kneels down, lifting your head as you flinch at his touch. “Our poor teddy….” He says lowly, he shows pity more than guilt.

It makes you sick as you try and roar at him, growl. Anything. But in the corner of your eye, you see Dick ready to press the button. You immediately stopped trying to fight. “You seem cranky..” Bruce says, he then helps you sit up as Damian moves by his father.

“Father, maybe it’s time for them to eat some honey?” He questions.

Honey…it’s not honey. It’s a drug to make you loopy. To make you obey them. To make you happy and do anything they wish to do to you.

To make you their perfect little teddy bear.

A/N: UH OH??? DID I EAT? OR DID I EAT🗣️‼️

[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

[ofourlee]

megumi x reader

you nudge megumi softly, your head nestled against his chest, the warmth of the blankets making the quiet night feel even cozier.

“i want ice cream,” you whisper, your voice barely louder than a breath.

megumi groans, not bothering to open his eyes. “baby, it’s 1 a.m. you don’t really want ice cream right now.”

megumi’s arm tightens around you, as if to convince you to stay put.

but you’re not so easily deterred.

you shift, sitting up just enough to give him that wide-eyed, innocent look you know he can’t resist.

“i do, though,” you say, a playful pout on your lips. “please, gumi?”

he cracks one eye open, staring at you with a mix of disbelief and amusement.

“first of all, it’s the middle of the night. second, you didn’t call me baby. third, we could literally just go tomorrow,” he mumbles, trying to close his eyes again, but you can see the grin starting to creep up.

you lean closer, resting your chin on his chest, your lips just inches from his.

“but it won’t taste as good tomorrow,” you tease, drawing out the words, “please, baby. i want ice cream now.” you bat your eyelashes dramatically, giving him that final, over-the-top pout

he sighs, dragging it out like he’s in real agony, before he finally opens both eyes. “you’re impossible,” he groans, tossing the blanket aside.

but before you can respond, he’s already reaching for his keys, muttering, “ice cream at 1 a.m. i can’t believe i’m doing this.”

you grin, unable to hide your excitement as you grab his hand, practically bouncing. “you love me,” you sing-song as you head out the door.

megumi chuckles, pulling you close as you step out into the cool night air. “yeah, yeah. lucky for you, i do.”

[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.”

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

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

[kruegerspillow]

sleeping with simon riley includes...

a bunch of coughing and groaning in the middle of the night (yeah... he needs to stop smoking)

random muttering and mumbling from him/you

nightmares. he will literally jump out of the bed which causes you to be startled sometimes (he offered to sleep on the couch due to his nightmares....)

his hands roaming around your body as if he wants to memorize every part of you (he does)

cuddles of course !!! it doesnt matter if hes the big or small spoon he just needs to be with you.

either of you falling off of the bed, at least once in a while

the blankets being left aside because simon says its gonna be 'too hot' (no, he just wants to be your personal heater lmao)

laying on top of each other. yeah, you might end up sleeping with your head resting against his chest.

HAIR STROKING. will stroke your hair until you fall asleep soundly

sigh... drooling. he drools a bit sorry to break it to you guys

a lot of admiring. he'll admire you as you sleep, its the only view that helps him doze off

FOREHEAD KISSES. either you or him. if he stirs awake he'll just give you a small forehead kiss before holding you closer to him (if thats even possible) and dozing off once more

nuzzling. he loves to nuzzle into the crook of your neck :(

tangled legs. his legs are gonna be intertwined with yours oooor one of his leg is going to be on top of yours.

kruegerspillow © 2024 — reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[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.

[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!

[shortnsweetsposts]

Child!Damian: *Trying to hug Bat!reader*

Bat!reader: Leave alone, baby.

Child!Damian: *Looked up at Bat!reader with them big ol'eyes*

Bat!reader: ...

Bat!reader, starts ugly sobbing and hugged child!Damian back: YOU'RE MY BABY. YOU'RE MY BABY AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH.

Batfam: Oh wow

[zaceouiswriting]

The Master of Fulfillment

Character: Jason Todd (Wayne) x male reader, Dick Grayson (Wayne) x male reader

Universe: Somewhere in DC

Warnings: Smut, degrading, slurs, cuckolding, Master/Slave, choking

Read it with the thought that Dick and Jason aren't adopted brothers but blood brothers, which makes it all the more intense.

It was an odd sight. Jason and I come to this cafe almost every day as his work takes up most of his time, and it's right across the street from his workplace. My work is easy and gives me a lot of time. It mostly means that I'm constantly alone without my loving boyfriend. At this point, I can't even recall seeing him naked for more than five minutes or him bending me over for more than a moment.

The saddest part? I wasn't even mad about it. Because a quicky with him is really... quick. Not only is it dissatisfying, but it also makes me feel a kind of angry resentment. Since the first few months of our relationship, he hasn't taken the time to make me cum just by fucking me like he used to. He promised it would be a short thing, but three years have passed, and nothing has changed.

We've been drifting apart for a while because he just doesn't seem to care anymore. Sometimes I think he's aware of it, but then again, he doesn't change it. That's probably what annoys me the most. For a few months now, I don't even give him a quickie without rolling my eyes in annoyance. He stopped asking about it, which obviously made him unhappy as well. Yet, still no change.

I lost my sex drive a long time ago. Or I thought so. Because the strange sight, which is completely different from any other visit we have made here, makes me feel things I haven't experienced in a long time. A tight-fitting shirt, bulging arms big enough to crush my head if they want to. An obviously well-trained chest and an eight-pack under the cloth. But the most important thing besides his perfectly square face and impeccable haircut? His damn tight pants. With a nice firm butt. But the most cloth hugs, his massive bulge. It looks at least twice as big as Jason's. I could immediately feel jealousy rising in me for the person lucky enough to be the partner of this god.

I can feel my own pants tightening. I had to take my eyes off this man made of pure sex.

Logically it shouldn't be a strange sight to see a cop, not even a handsome one, at a coffee shop, but he was strangely alone. Usually, they are never alone buying coffee or something to eat for all their colleagues.

I've tried to ignore his existence, but every now and then, my eyes would wander to him, his well-built body, and whenever he shifted his stance, I would stare straight at his massive bulge. He's been there a lot longer than he should have been. But who was I to look a gift horse in the mouth?

Just as I was thinking about it and staring at the back of his head, he suddenly turned around with a scowl plastered over his face, but as soon as our eyes met, his face strangely relaxed. But soon, his eyes wandered up and down my seated body. I could only feel like a piece of meat under his gaze. A grin appeared out of nowhere on his devilishly handsome face, showing off his perfect pearly white teeth and, in particular, two sharp upper teeth.

A bright red blush appeared on my face, so apparent that even Jason couldn't miss it. "Are you all right, babe? Are you sick?” he asked worriedly. He even went so far as to stand up, leaning slightly toward me, and to put his rough, warm hand on my forehead to take my temperature.

His loving touch made me sick. "Maybe you should go and splash some cold water in your face? It might help,” he told me softly but firmly. There's something strange in his eyes, but I can't quite put my finger on what. Somehow I feel compelled to do as he told me. But before I could leave - shortly after I got up - he pulled me in a quick, smooth movement, very close to him. He definitely could feel my hard cock on him. But he ignored it. Instead, he kissed me deeply. He even went so far as to stick his tongue in. His love is on full display.

For a second, he felt like old Jason, the high school football captain I fell in love with, so rough and domineering. But as soon as we parted, he shyly looked away. My stomach turns with disgust.

Without saying another word, I walk away from him without looking at him again. But the cop - I daydreamed so much - got a look from me. Why? I have no idea. Surprisingly, he already looks at me with hunger in his dark blue eyes and lets them run over my body again before I finally disappear into the bathroom.

I lean against the closed door, breathing heavily. Why does this man make my heart beat so fast? Why was my body sweating so much? And why can't I answer any of these questions?

For a moment, I was so lost in my own thoughts that I forgot this was an open toilet. Quickly, before someone tries to open it and maybe knocks me over, I move away from the door.

I'll go over to the sink, open the water, and splash it in my face as Jason told me to. But why am I doing what he told me? Maybe it was the tone of his voice… so demanding it felt like old Jason.

I shook my head, knowing better. He's gone soft. Too soft.

I remember Jason standing over me in the locker room after one of his team members fucked me for the first time. Jason was so jealous. He was so deliciously rough. He treated me brutally. He didn't care if I got bruises from his treatment. Once, he even gave me a black eye. I vividly remember cumming hard that night: no one else could make me cum like this.

A strange feeling on my face snapped me out of my head the second time. Glancing slightly up in the mirror, I discover a single frustrated tear. But at that moment, I realized something: I still love this soft idiot.

I need to talk to him to find out what's changed! Just as I turned around, the door to the restrooms suddenly opened, startling me a little. For a second, I think it might be Jason to fulfill a long-forgotten sexual fantasy of his. But when I could see the blue of a police officer's uniform, a certain sadness came over me. However, this feeling only lasted a second before a strange excitement came over me.

Confused as to what to do, I rush to the urinals. I quickly pull my pants open and get my cock out. Nervously I tried to pee, but nothing came out. Even though I could feel my bladder filling up out of nowhere, I couldn't let a drop out.

The intimidating footsteps of the cop only make it worse. I hope he would walk down as far as possible. Best at the other end of the room. I decided to keep my eyes closed and pray; until I could no longer hear his footsteps. Despite all this, he came to stand right next to me.

Suddenly my heart started beating faster again. Frightened, I open my eyes only to glance sideways and see the intimidating statue of this muscular mountain of a man. But his eyes were forward and closed just like mine a second ago.

He deftly undid his fly without looking and fished something out, seeming to have some difficulty with it, commenting with annoyed little noises. The depth of his voice shocked me to my core. I look up for just a moment at his sharp, masculine features. But even from the bottom corner of my eye, I could see beige skin sticking out of the front of his pants.

And when my eyes noticed whatever it was, my mouth went dry. "Fuck!" I exclaimed loudly. Involuntarily I would like to add! It was just a reaction.

Even after I could hear a deep laugh, I couldn't take my eyes off this huge hunk of meat. His cock is thicker than my wrist and even limp as long as Jason's hard cock. Jason isn't small by any measurement, but this cop's cock is on another level.

But nothing could intimidate me like the sudden powerful jet of water that this man let out, completely occluding my bladder. It's so aggressive that I know he's doing it to intimidate me even further. And it's an eternity before he finally shakes off with a deep, low, satisfied groan.

He pulls back his foreskin and waves it to get the last drops out. But even then, he didn't pack it up again. Instead, he stroked it lazily. It scared me. Not because it wasn't damn hot to see this man do something like that, but because he might notice me staring at him.

A quick glance upwards is enough to see that he is looking down at me. The hunger in his eyes is darker now. "So you're a fag?" he asks with a malicious grin. He seems to know exactly what he's doing. Because for some reason, I could feel some kind of lust tightening in my stomach or wherever.

He boldly steps back from the urinal and holds his semi-hard cock in his massive hand, which would take him at least two more to completely enclose his cock. My eyes widened at the realization that this man wants me, not only wants me but might even want to destroy me, considering his... question.

“I-I-“

"Don't be shy," he mused. He comes closer with his feet straight and pushes me further back. "Touch it," he commanded me. Although his voice sounded sweet, I could feel the pressure of authority pressing on me.

Before I know it, I hold out my shaking hand. Soon I'm touching the fat cock head and feeling a wetness on it. The urge to try it rose in me. But I couldn't! I have a boyfriend! That thought, thankfully, brings me back to my senses. I quickly try to withdraw my hand. But before I can do that, something inside me stops my movements for some reason. I look up anxiously and look the officer straight in the eyes. He angrily stares down at me.

"I see you want more, don't you? Greedy little fagot!” His dark, murderous eyes are now paired with an equally sinister laugh that startles me so much I stumble backward. I almost fall to my knees from sheer weakness. "Get on your knees!" he suddenly orders me.

“Wha-“

"I'm not repeating myself!" he growled right in my face.

"I-I can't! I ha-have a boy-boyfriend!” My teeth are chattering from fear.

All he does is mock me. "You mean that guy out there? The one you flinched from when he touched you? Can't he satisfy a whore like you? Is he that pathetic?”

A sudden surge of caution washes over me. Finally free of this moment, I pull my hand away, even though I mentally curse myself for it. "It's not like-"

"You already cheated on him just because I took out my obviously bigger cock. It's only a matter of time how long it will be before you're begging to take it up your little bitch hole!"

He grins down at me so arrogantly that I immediately believe he is the case and then some. I don't seem to be his first victim of lust. That much is clear. But if you look like him, are built like him, and have a cock like him? Who can blame him for using it to his advantage? I would do the same if I were in his place.

A thick, awkward silence falls over us for a long moment. He just stares, seemingly trying to understand me. But then his face suddenly twists into pure disappointment. Tightened, he clicked his tongue dismissively. Right before me, he tucks his monster cock back into his pants and pulls up his fly. He gives me one last dissatisfied look before turning around.

Suddenly a pang of disappointment comes over me. But why? Is it because a man like him wants me? Do I want to please him? Do I want to please him more than being faithful to my loving boyfriend?

Everything goes so fast, and all these thoughts shoot through my head within seconds of him turning around. He only took two heavy steps, and it is impossible not to miss him. Even his footsteps showed a tremendous amount of authority. They are so powerful that I wish he would step on me.

At that moment, my mouth opens: "Stop!" I call after him, out of breath. For a moment, I did not realize that I'd said anything.

Before I know it, my back hits a wall so hard it takes my breath away. It was hard to focus again. But when I finally managed to come back, a broken moan escaped my lips. A massive hand gripped my throat and cut off my windpipe. But I don't care. After all, it's this man. His eyes were even darker than before.

His mouth opens, and he even says something, but the only thing I can focus on is his hand which I wish would beat me red and blue. I've never seen so many veins in a hand or forearm as he does.

From one moment to the next, my ears start ringing as my head flies to the side. For a second, I feel like a star hit me - literally.

"Are you back, bitch?" he asks smugly. He seems to know that everything about him makes me lose focus.

As pathetic as I am right now, I try to talk, but all that comes out is a choked sound. At that moment, I realize that his hand is still around my neck. So I nod submissively.

"Good," he says, still as smug as before, "because now you're going to listen to me carefully, understood?" Again I nod. "We don't have time for all the fun, so I'm going to turn you around, get you ready for a moment, and then fuck you stupid, got it?"

Unable to do anything else, knowing I'll do anything to feel his hand on me and not wanting to disappoint him again, I nod. Still grinning, he takes his hand from my throat. Instead, he cups my chin between his thumb and index finger. Carefully, gently he slaps my face. 

"Good boy," he whispers huskily in my ear.

Never in my life has my cock become as hard as it is at this moment. I squirm under his intense gaze. His callous hands trail down to my chest. So out of fear, I close my eyes, enjoying his full attention, only to be carelessly grabbed and thrown around. I soon find my face crushed against the disgusting white tiles of the bathroom.

He presses close to my back. I can feel his hardening cock poking against it. This man is just too big... in all regards. But he doesn't let that bother him. Instead, he uses the big body size difference to masturbate with my lower back.

His head is so close and yet, so far away that he has to bend down to let his breath tickle the hairs on the back of my neck and the fine hairs on my ears. For a second, I think he's going to kiss me. His lips are this close to my skin. "Are you clean?" he asks suddenly.

Confused by this question, I try to turn my head to look askance at him. Before I can do that, though, he pushes my head back to where he wants it. I fearfully gasp for air. "Yes," I answer him. Hoping he means if I'm healthy.

An intrusive feeling snaps me out of my thoughts as I feel a long finger poking through the crack in my ass. My eyes shoot down in shock. My pants are on the floor, around my ankles. How did he do that? I neither felt nor heard anything. I didn't even feel the cold breeze around my bare legs like I do now!

"And your hole, bitch?" His breathing gets ragged, hopefully with excitement, as mine does.

It feels so personal, too much, if I'm being honest. On the other hand, I'm standing in front of him half-naked, ready to take anything he wants to give me, just like the slut he thinks I am. And I can't even blame him for that. Then that's precisely how I'm behaving in this moment.

"I-I never ga-gave up my special diet," I choke out as his finger circles my tight hole. I realize how much I need a real man to touch me there and use my hole like it's his.

"Hmm..." he hummed contentedly. "What a good boy you are," he muses again, the smug grin evident in his voice.

As he calls me that again, my resolve shatters. My knees give out. Before I can move too much, though, his hands are on my waist. "Don't worry, I've got you," he murmured, "you're not the first whore to go weak in the knees. Although it usually doesn't happen until they find out how long my tongue is."

I'm gasping for air, confused as to what he could mean. But suddenly, his head is gone. Even more confused, I gather all my strength and press my hands against the wall to get my head off it. I can barely move my head, but my eyes immediately take in what is happening. This god of a man crouches behind me, his head level with my butt.

"Nice ass, I'll give you that," he says absently. With his hands, he kneads my perfectly round ass cheeks. A slap ripped a big moan out of my throat. "A perfect jiggle." At this point, he's just mumbling. He smacks my ass a few more times, though.

Until his voice suddenly gets even lower, with which he says a single word after a particularly hard slap on my ass: "Fuck".

Both together lead me to the most humiliating experience that I have ever happened to me in my entire life. With no warning or ability to stop it, I groan loudly.

It would certainly have been less humiliating if it hadn't snapped the cop out of his horny trance.

"Are you really that needy, bitch? Well, then maybe we should start?” 

Of course, that's not a question because only a second later, I feel his wet tongue on my hole. It's not hard for the tip to break through, considering his fingers have already made me pretty loose.

But he quickly pulls out the tip of his tongue just to lick my hole up and down, teasing it with the tip only to give it a big lick again. Honestly, he has driven me crazy within seconds. With my arms flat against the wall and my head banging against it, I let him do as he pleases.

He pays more attention to my needs than Jason has in years. For years he just fucks me until he's done and then leaves. But this cop? A man I've never met before - I might add - really knows what he's doing, like a pro.

I should soon find out what he meant by the comment about his long tongue because everything in his regard seems to be... extraordinary. I even believe that his tongue alone could get into my stomach. Of course, it can't. But he reaches in extremely far and covers my insides with his spit. He even goes as far as to spit deep inside me once or twice. Preparing me to take his monster cock without lube.

The once cool tiles no longer comfort me. The officer's hot, wet tongue gives me pleasure like no one has before. Not even Bryan, who before the officer was the best fucker I've ever had. And the officer still has to give me what I really want. What I desire, since I have noticed him.

But apparently, he won't give it to me without a fight. Because all he does is please me with his powerful tongue.

Soon, however, even the thoughts that, not so long ago, fill me with fear and disappointment in myself for giving myself to another man and the desire to please him.

All I can do now is fixate on the tongue deep in my greedy hole. The bumps on his tongue massaged my sensitive insides. But what really gets me going is the flexibility of his tongue. Suddenly, he rolls his tongue and uses it like an icebreaker to penetrate me even deeper.

For a second, my mind is blank. When I come to, I'm lying flat against the wall, a hand behind my back holding me tighter against it while an arm around my knees keeps me upright. I can feel the arrogant smirk on my butt, but at this point, I know he's right. I might not like it, but he's a sex god who can turn even something as simple as a rim job into a feast of pleasure.

The tingling sensation of his tongue going deep into areas previously reserved for cocks is just too nice. His tongue is obscene, as are the moans he can filter out of me. I'm already on cloud nine… no, wait, cloud eleven. He gets me high just through my lust.

My brain is so slow I don't feel his tongue leave my hole and gape like a fish out of water. It even takes a moment before he realizes he's spitting in, only to have his long fingers push it in deeper. And it takes even longer before I realize he's talking to me.

I slowly take in his words and somehow find the strength to turn my head slightly. I look at him with blurred eyes, the area around his lips shows a slight reddishness, but it's almost imperceptible.

"I don't think I can do it," I murmur almost silently.

"But a really good boy would do that for his man."

“You aren-“

"Do I have to punish you?" His voice suddenly drops again, and his eyes, which gleam with lust, are filled with anger and disappointment.

With new tears forming in my eyes, I shake my head. It puts back a smug smile on his full lips. "Good," he says before he takes my hand and puts it on his crotch.

Why he wants me to undo his fly again is beyond me, and with my shaking hand, it's no easy task anyway. It takes a while before I can even get my hands on it and even longer before I can open it. But the man doesn't care. He's patiently waiting for me to obey his commands like I'm his whore.

He still helps my hand reach into his pants and leans forward again before I can pull him out. So I can only jerk him off a little over his underwear. "I've never seen a fag like you, who is more like a whore than a regular fag and is falling apart so damn easily. You haven't even tasted my...dick." The last word lingered for a while, seductively.

One moment he's praising me, and the next, he's demeaning me, but unfortunately, both kind of turn me on. I've never bothered with either of them before have only done them to my partners, but now with him? With this man? I want to hear it from him, over and over again, both. Maybe it's his soothing, authoritative voice or his body and what he represents.

“I-I-“

"Try not to think too much," he says, still smugly. "I'm going to fuck you now whether you like it... or not. You asked me to do it, so I'll do it, and if I like your sweet little hole, I might make it mine."

A thousand things go through my mind, but mostly Jason, my faithful, loving boyfriend, who's still at the cafe...alone...waiting for me, and I'm here, with another man, no. .. a real man, someone who can give me what I need. "I can-"

Just as I begin to speak, a sudden pressure is applied to my not yet opened wide enough hole. The pain races through my body, but my mind is too busy to react immediately. On the other hand, the man behind me is more than ready. Before I know it, a hand blocks my mouth, and another arm pulls both of my hands behind my back and holds them there, just to be safe, I suppose.

"Now be a good little boy and scream!"

Without a second thought, the officer rammed into me. It overwhelms me. It feels like he's splitting me in half. While at the same time not giving me much time to understand what he's doing. Then, just a moment after ramming as much as he could into me, he pulled back completely. Every sound I want to make gets stuck in my throat. I just couldn't get it out.

I can feel an intense gaze on the back of my head. With his head far away from mine, his deep voice suddenly roared, "I told you to yell for me, you stupid fag!" After saying this, the officer, annoyed at my uncooperative, aims and rams his massive dick back into my hole.

Finally, muffled screams echo through the room, and tears run down the officer's rough, large hand. Almost as soon as those painful screams come from me, I hear a loud moan of satisfaction behind me.

"You're a lot tighter than I thought...Your boyfriend is even more pathetic than I thought...Shit, so fucking tight!"

Even though he's using me like a fucking toy and doesn't seem to care how much pain he's causing me, I admit it's exactly what I need. I might not be able to walk for a few days and perhaps even bleed because the cop suddenly opens my tight hole so wide. But I already know I'll be needing something like this more often. I would prefer it if he never pulled his cock out again.

I'm so far gone after he pushes himself back inside me that my screams soon become bubbling noises.

Almost as if he's waiting for something like this to happen, he removes his hand from my mouth without breaking his rhythmic movements. "Did you try to say something?" he asks smugly. His breathing is even as if this is something normal to him. Remembering his massive, muscular physique and thinking that he's not just a gym rat but an athlete through and through gives me my answer to my unasked question. Somehow it made this situation even more erotic.

"Roem, a ened erom," I tell him. Everything is right in my head, and I tell him I need more. But when I hear my own words, I am deeply embarrassed.

He chuckles darkly, knowing as well as I do that he's already broken me after just a few moments of him fucking me. Suddenly, a strange, unfamiliar glow appears in his eyes. Just as it appears, he forcibly turns my head and pulls it back, arching my back. As he smiles down at me, terror courses through my veins. Whatever's going on in his head, it can't be good.

Suddenly something wet hits my face. Barely able to open one of my eyes, I see that his smile has grown, and a string of spit is hanging out of his mouth. Shocked and disgusted, all I could do was gape at him.

But he seems to take this as an invitation, so he quickly slaps his hand on my cheek and massages his spit into my skin, two fingers even wiping a bit into my mouth.

Unable to comprehend what is happening, I close my mouth around his fingers and lick them like an obedient whore.

“Fuck!“

His hand on my face suddenly pushes my head down while his other arm pulls me back. Thinking he wants to bend me over and press me against the wall, I move as much as possible to help him with my aching body.

But to my utmost shock, he goes even further. Instead of against the wall, he presses my head close to the bottom of the toilet, into which he has just urinated without flushing. I can smell the strong smell. He almost pushed me in. But I can barely get my hands on the toilet to prevent that.

I choke on the disgusting stench and almost throw up. The officer keeps me there even after hearing about it. "You'd do anything to get that cock back, wouldn't you?" he asks menacingly. Even without hearing anything else, I'm split: on the one hand, I would do anything to feel him again. On the other hand, I have my own pride. And I don't like that shit.

So I gather all my strength to draw a line. I cling to the toilet with an effort, undeterred by his powerful attempts to push me back down.

It takes a while, but once I move away from that smell, I grab onto the top of the toilet and turn my head. "Fuck you!" I tell him in a moment of clarity.

"Feisty." He's not even confused by my sudden action, which confuses me more than anything else. "I like it. A tight fucking hole, handsome, and not easy to bend." After that, there's a long pause, but I can see he's about to say something else. "Then come here and see how much punishment you can endure!"

It's the only form of warning before he pulls me flat against his massive chest, lifts me in the air, grabs me in odd places, and twists me with his monster cock inside me. When I finally get a close look at him, he's pinning us against the wall, with both of my legs resting on his left shoulder because of my pants binding them together and staring down into my eyes.

Not long after, I realize that his warning is no idle threat. He starts pounding me like a beast without breaking eye contact. Even though he's the most handsome man I've ever seen, I didn't feel like kissing him like Jason... Jason does. Shit, I'm cheating on my loving boyfriend.

When the man sees something is wrong, he pushes me harder against the wall. "Don't think about that loser. I'm fucking you, not him! Remember this!"

With that, he goes all in and even starts to sweat a bit. But that doesn't last long as all the pressure of the moment finally takes hold of me. My sensitive cock starts moving, and the officer has to hit me only one more time to make me cum again. This time, however, I scream Jason's name loudly.

But deep anger comes over him when he hears Jason's name slip from my lips. He starts to brutally fuck my hole, which makes my head go blank.

When I come to, the officer slumps on top of me, my hole drenched with his cum.

"You c-came inside me?" I ask him, my fear evident in my voice.

"Of course," he says smugly, "your hole is mine now!"

As if to make his point even clearer, he quickly pulls himself out of my sore hole, sets me down on the floor, and kicks me in the back of my knees, causing me to fall on top of her. I look up at him in confusion in my delirium. Before I could ask what he's doing, he opened my mouth slightly with his thumb. Still confused, I just let him do what he wants. But as the saying goes, if you give some people a hand, they take your entire arm.

Before I know it, he's cramming his first five or six inches down my throat, not without my teeth scraping his skin because of the surprise.

Thankfully, when I look up at him in shock, he doesn't look unhappy. More smug than anything. "Yeaaaah...uhh...oh damn! This hole is mine too!” he says firmly, not caring if I want it... or not. He simply decides for me.

At this point, I don't want to mention Jason anymore or think of him for fear of being punished again. "Clean that damn cock up, fagot!" He grins down at me. It makes me weak enough to see past what he just did. So push him back slightly to get a little control. With both hands, I lightly jerk his semi-hard cock, sucking his cock head clean and licking the rest of his monster clean as well.

When I look up again after cleaning him fully and dropping his cock, I see a happy glow in his eyes.

“Put it back in!“ 

Without further inquiry, I did as I was told, taking his now limp cock - still massive - and shoving it back into his pants, pulling his underwear over them, and pulling his fly back up. I place my hands on his large thighs for a second longer to catch my breath.

As I breathe, one of his large hands caresses me almost lovingly. His smugness is now completely gone. "Don't cry. Isn't it as bad as you might think," he told me cryptically. "Open your mouth."

This time I'm more reserved and only stare at him. He quickly realizes I won't do what he told me to do. He rolled his eyes, grabbed the back of my head, and pulled my hair. For a second, it hurt so bad that I opened my mouth involuntarily. He quickly stuck two fingers in and put something in my mouth.

I try to bite him, but he pulls his fingers out fast enough. As I glare at him, his smug smile is back. "Don't worry," he waved dismissively, "It's just a peppermint." Still, after telling me that, he gets dangerously close to me again. His smug grin turns predatory again. "You don't want your useless little friend smelling a real man on your breath, do you?"

His words hit all the right spots. He knows my guilt and bathes in it like a psychopath.

I push myself away from him, and instead, I crash into the tiled wall, not hard enough to hurt myself, but my dignity was injured nonetheless.

"Next time, I don't want to feel teeth on my cock, got it... bitch?"

He doesn't wait for an answer before going to the sink, washing his hands, and exiting the toilet without a backward glance.

He left me here...alone, with my face in my hands. Finally, the realization of what I've done comes into its own. How could I do that? Jason loves me, and I-I love him too. This will destroy him!

Though sadness overwhelms me, I somehow stand up. To do this, though, I put my hands on the side of the urinal to use as leverage, as my legs were more jelly than anything. Standing isn't any better, my whole back hurts like hell, and my ass is on fire. Somehow, however, I manage to get back to the sink.

When I see my reflection in the mirror, I'm not shocked to see myself completely disheveled. After all, my whole body just got destroyed by this arrogant fucking cop so annoyingly smug... I want to... fucking punch him in the face!

As my anger mounts, I realize it's my fault. A desperate sigh escapes my lips. I activated the water, splashed more water on my face, and cleaned up as best I could in a cafe toilet.

I could remove almost all the accumulated visible sweat and even save my hair to a certain extent. Only the redness on my face and slightly swollen eyes still told me something had happened.

I wait another minute, just hoping I don't seem too suspicious. When I'm happy enough with how I look, I walk to the toilet door and open it with a trembling hand to confront the man I love and just betrayed.

Extra:

Jason is happily sitting at our table while doing something on his phone. When I walk towards him or limp, he thankfully doesn't sense my presence until I've reached him and already sat down again.

"Are you all right again?"

Why is he ignoring my obviously different appearance? I look all messed up, and he doesn't react at all! Somehow it makes me angry. Is he even looking at me?

Suddenly he focuses on one point. As my gaze wanders to this point, terror fills my veins; A fucking semen stain, already crusted. But Jason just pulls out a tissue, looks around, and pulls my shirt up slightly to carefully clean my stomach. I can only sit there in horror.

“I-I can ex-explain I-„

Jason gives me a bright smile and just shakes his head. Which immediately silences me.

I can only wait until he's ready to talk and embarrassedly enjoy the attention he's giving me. I haven't felt this good in years! Even if the overshadowing feelings of guilt are getting stronger.

Even after he let my shirt drop, he's still smiling.

“I really need to tell-“

"Jason!" a sudden voice calls out to my boyfriend. One that I know only too well because a few minutes ago, the voice humiliated me and, at the same time, made me feel like a worthy sexual partner.

As I feel the blood drain from my face, I can only watch in horror as the same cop comes to our table, ruffles Jason's hair like he's done it a million times, and sits beside me, putting his arm too close for comfort.

He grins at me, making it painfully clear that something has happened between us.

"How do you know each other?"

With his still smug smirk, the cop switched between Jason and me before focusing on my boyfriend. "He's my little brother. I still can't believe he never told you about me. After all, we hang out together all the time!”

As soon as the words that his dirty mouth uttered registered in my brain, I almost fainted.

“Bro-Brother?“ I ask both men for clarification.

“Yeah,“ Jason admitted in a lowered voice.

Again the cop looks back and forth between Jason and me and can obviously sense the awkward atmosphere around us increasing as best I can feel it.

"Well, nice to finally meet the 'perfect guy' as Jason always flaunts you to me. But I have to go,” he tells us loudly, only for him to lean against me. "Remember, I like you tight," he whispers in my ear while his hand presses softly against my throat again.

But the moment breaks just as quickly as it has come. Jason's brother gets up and walks away, leaving me speechless.

"We can talk about this in the car," Jason says suddenly.

Tears well up in my eyes in a whirlwind of emotions. I don't want to let them fall in public, so I plainly nod. Oddly enough, Jason takes my hand and lovingly draws circles on the back.

But I'm far gone in my head. I now fully realize the gravity of what I've done. Maybe he could have forgiven me for cheating on him if it was some random guy, but his brother?

With a heavy stomach - that almost makes me throw up at our favorite coffee shop - Jason leads me straight to his car. He carefully helps me into the passenger seat and brushes a few strands of hair out of my face. Out of nowhere, he plants a nice, long kiss on my forehead.

I know, Jason! He's not so stupid that he didn't recognize the situation. So why is he still so loving?

It doesn't look like I'll be getting an answer to my silent question any time soon. Because as he gets into the car, he starts it and drives off. I have never experienced such silence, heavy and suffocating.

“I met Bryan again over two years ago.“

When he suddenly starts speaking, I jump a little. Maybe even a high-pitched squeak came out of my throat.

Jason doesn't even give me a sideways glance. He just starts talking again. "By that point, I could already sense that you were no longer sexually happy with me. I asked him if we could have a beer in the evening, and when we met, I asked him how he could keep you happy for so long. He was uncomfortable talking about it because he is actually married now after getting his girlfriend pregnant. But I got it out of him, and...let's just say it wasn't what I wanted to hear."

If someone had told me that my first ex could tear my whole world apart, even if we parted on good terms or as I thought it was on good terms, I wouldn't have believed it. But here I am, fighting against the only guy stupid enough to tell anyone's boyfriend stuff like that.

I gently place my hand on Jason's leg and try to get him to look at me so I can explain, but he doesn't react.

"I always thought I could be the guy you want and need. Maybe I'm the guy you want but not the guy you need. I felt insecure before speaking to Bryan because our sex life had already dwindled, but from what he told me, I felt... inadequate. And how could I not? His cock is huge... he showed me a picture. But the worst? That he could be something I can never be. A master."

My cheeks burn with embarrassment. Jason and I, of course, talked about our preferences. But I never mentioned my greatest. Yes, in the beginning, Jason was a dominant male, but around the same time, I realized it was just a facade. But I was willing to do anything to be happy with him.

“But Jason, I love you and what I did is not-“

"For once in your life, can you shut up?" He yells, gazing into my eyes angrily. I wanted to say something, and he could see that. "I set you up!"

“W-What?“

"I set you up with my brother," he finally admits. "He stopped by two weeks ago when you weren't there. I've been thinking about breaking up with you to give you a chance to find someone you need. All my ex-boyfriends have cheated on me with my brother at some point. He always told me beforehand. But this time? After he reminded me of the love you and I share? I-I asked him to be the one to give you what you need.”

"I don't understand." I'm breathless. I couldn't breathe! What's wrong with me?"

Jason doesn't seem to be doing any better, however. "I asked him to wear the most tight-fitting uniform he has, knowing he would draw your attention. Afterward, he told me that if we both had healthy sex lives, you would never have considered his advances. But he could tell you were starving for brutal sex.” 

It must be difficult for him to admit his deepest worries. Because now I'm just someone who chose his brother over him.

“He's actually in to make this into something regular. And I have already agreed.”

"W-What? Don't I have a say in that too?” I ask him perplexed.

"I'm your boyfriend! That is never going to change! But I can't dominate you as much as you need to. It's the other way around... actually. I want you..."

His last words hang in the air like a lifeline. Yet I cannot really comprehend what he is revealing. A plot to cheat on him, but not to cheat him, but what for? Strengthen our relationship? Or getting me also into a relationship with his brother?

“What does all of this mean, Jason?“

He took a deep breath and took my hand into his again. He looks straight into my confused eyes. "My brother will be your only lover. And I want you to be dominant in bed with me."

I'm stunned, and it will probably take me a moment to really understand what he's saying. This is why we continue driving in silence until we arrive in the underground car park of our apartment building and come to a stop. Where everything suddenly hits me like a rock.

“Jason?“

“Yes, my love?“

“Are you a cuckold?“

It seems I hit the hammer on the head because his frozen reaction, unable to meet my gaze, speaks volumes.

"So you want to watch me get utterly destroyed by your own brother?" The question hangs heavily in the air.

“I-I don’t-I-“

"It sounds really... hot. I can imagine him fucking me silly while you stare at me with jealousy, and my face is contorted with ecstasy... I can imagine us doing that.”

I must have shocked Jason to the core because he fell silent. But he still holds my hand tightly in his. However, that didn't stand with me. I aggressively pull my hand out, stunning him even more.

Without saying a word, I get out of the car, walk around it and yank open his car door. He looks at me so perplexed that I want to cuddle with him and apologize.

“Get out!“ I order him.

He looks at me with wide eyes, a kind of pleasure in them, still trying to understand what I'm doing.

"Eyes down and follow me. You don't touch or look at me, understand?” Jason nods submissively. Grinning, I cup his face in my hands and give him a small kiss on his lips. Only to slap him in the face the next second with a cold expression on his face. He shudders under my gaze and quickly lowers his eyes.

I have a sinking feeling that this agreement will not go as planned. But for now, I'll try to make Jason happy.

[Masterlist]

[zapreportsblog]

I want to know if you can do a Garrett-x-male reader. Where the reader is a Naiad (freshwater nymph) that was founded and adopted by the Cullens as their adopted son/brother. People say that he is the kindest and most beautiful/attractive out of his siblings, and people are always surprised that he does not have a spouse or a lover, yet even his family says the same thing, to which he just replies that it's just not the right time. But in reality, he is afraid of falling in love because his last relationships either ended with the guy he loved dying or breaking his heart. So he tries to keep his distance from love. One day, when Garrett and his covenant came to the Cullen's residence, the vampire immediately set his eyes on the reader, knowing that he was his mate and falling head over heels for him. But each time he gets close to him, the reader always pushes back. After a long while, the reader breaks down, asking Garrett why he keeps pursuing him. The vampire replies about how he fell in love with him. The reader tells him that he's just going to go away like the others, but Garrett holds him, telling him he promised to stay with him to leave his side, making the reader fall in love with him. (Sorry for it being long)

❝afraid of love❞

✭ pairing : garrett x reader

✭ fandom : twilight

✭ summary : (M/n) is the recent adopted member of the Olympic Clan, he isn’t a vampire like the other members but instead a Naiad - or in other words a fresh water nymph. He was rescued by Doctor Carlilsle when he was found injured by some fisher men and the rest is history.

✭ twilight masterlist

In the quiet town of Forks, nestled amid the lush forests of Washington, there lived a rather unique family. Carlisle Cullen, a compassionate and knowledgeable doctor, had taken it upon himself to care for those in need. This included not only humans but also some rather extraordinary individuals. Among them was (M/n), a young male naiad, a freshwater nymph.

Years ago, when (M/n) was but a vulnerable and injured young boy, he had been discovered by Carlisle after a group of reckless fishermen had harmed him. Carlisle, with his unwavering commitment to helping those in pain, took (M/n) under his wing and raised him alongside the other remarkable children he had adopted.

The Cullen family was unlike any other in Forks, a small town where people knew each other's names and secrets. Alongside (M/n), Carlisle had adopted Edward, Jasper, Alice, Emmett, and Rosalie, each unique in their own way.

However, (M/n) stood out among his siblings, not because of his origins as a naiad, but because of his incredible kindness and willingness to engage with the humans of Forks. When he first started attending Forks High School, his fellow students were immediately struck by his gentle and sweet nature. The nickname "Forks Sweet Boy" quickly spread through the school, a testament to his reputation.

(M/n) didn't mind the nickname at all. In fact, he embraced it with a warm smile. He would often be seen chatting with classmates, offering a helping hand, or simply listening to their concerns. He had a way of making everyone feel heard and valued, a true gift that endeared him to the hearts of the townspeople.

His siblings admired (M/n)'s ability to connect with humans so effortlessly. Edward, with his telepathic abilities, often marveled at the pure intentions he sensed in his brother. Jasper, an empath, felt a sense of calm and contentment whenever he was near (M/n). Alice considered him a genuine friend and confidant. Emmett and Rosalie, though initially skeptical of having a naiad in the family, had come to love (M/n) as their own.

As the Cullen family lived their peaceful and quiet life in Forks, (M/n) continued to be the embodiment of kindness and compassion. His presence, like a cool stream in a tranquil forest, brought solace and harmony to those who had the privilege of knowing him.

Forks High School buzzed with the typical energy of a school day. In the bustling cafeteria, (M/n) found himself sitting at a table surrounded by a group of students, including the new girl, Bella Swan. He was known for his friendly and welcoming nature, always eager to make newcomers feel at ease.

As he chatted with Bella, he offered her a warm smile. "So, Bella, if you ever need help navigating this place or have any questions, just let me know. I'm here to make your transition smoother."

Bella looked genuinely grateful for his offer, appreciating the kindness radiating from the boy with bright eyes and a warm demeanor. "Thank you, (M/n). That's really sweet of you."

The other students at the table couldn't believe their eyes. (M/n) was a Cullen, part of the mysterious and enigmatic family that had captured the town's curiosity for years. They had expected him to be sitting with his siblings, not mingling with regular students.

Jessica, who had been trying to catch (M/n)'s attention, decided to take her shot. She leaned in closer, batting her eyelashes flirtatiously. "You know, (M/n), you're even more attractive than your siblings. I bet your partner is very lucky."

(M/n), however, seemed oblivious to her advances. He chuckled politely. "Oh, I don't have a partner."

The revelation raised eyebrows and sparked whispers among the students, all curious about (M/n)'s relationship status. They couldn't fathom why someone so kind and attractive would be unattached.

With a serene smile, (M/n) deflected the curiosity. "It's just not the right time for me."

Just as the atmosphere at the table was growing more curious and perplexed, Edward, with his usual air of authority, approached the group. His expression was stern, his eyes locking onto (M/n).

"(M/n)," he said stiffly, "Carlisle called. We're leaving school early. He needs us all at home."

(M/n) nodded, his friendly demeanor momentarily replaced by seriousness. "Of course, Edward. Let's go."

As (M/n) rose from the table, Bella, the only one who didn't question his actions, offered him a supportive smile. She could sense there was more to (M/n) than met the eye, and she was intrigued.

The rest of the students watched in bewilderment as (M/n) and Edward along with the rest of the siblings left the cafeteria together, leaving behind a sense of mystery and a flurry of unanswered questions.

The Cullen family arrived home, their footsteps echoing through the spacious house. The atmosphere was tinged with curiosity as they all caught a whiff of a foreign vampire's scent in their home.

Carlisle and Esme were waiting in the grand living room, engaged in conversation with a tall, dark-haired vampire named Garrett. The Cullens entered the room, their eyes immediately drawn to the mysterious guest.

Carlisle, ever the gracious host, stepped forward and began introductions. "Everyone, this is Garrett. He's an old friend of mine. I'm sorry I pulled you all out of classes early, but I didn't want you to be alarmed by his scent and mistake him for a foreign vampire coming into Forks."

The Cullens nodded in understanding, their expressions relaxing as they realized the situation. However, (M/n) remained in the background, observing the newcomer with keen interest.

As Garrett and Carlisle continued their conversation with the rest of the family, (M/n) watched from afar. There was something about Garrett that piqued (M/n)'s curiosity. Their eyes met across the room, and in that instant, Garrett felt a powerful, inexplicable pull.

Unable to resist the magnetic force drawing him, Garrett excused himself from the group and approached (M/n) with a charming smile. "I know we've been introduced, but I wanted to say hello personally. My name is Garrett."

(M/n) smiled back, the corners of their eyes crinkling with warmth. "Nice to meet you, Garrett."

In a gesture of old-world chivalry, Garrett bent gracefully and kissed the back of (M/n)'s hand. The contact sent a shiver down (M/n)'s spine, and they couldn't deny the sudden connection that had formed between them.

The rest of the Cullen family watched with curiosity as the two exchanged pleasantries, unaware of the deeper connection that had instantly sparked between (M/n) and Garrett.

Garrett had been persistent in his efforts to spend more time with (M/n). He invited him on walks through the lush forest, took him to scenic spots, and even suggested romantic dinners. Yet, no matter how much effort Garrett put into pursuing (M/n), there remained an emotional distance between them.

One day, after another attempt to engage in conversation with (M/n) ended with (M/n) excusing himself, Garrett decided it was time to confront the issue. He cornered (M/n) in the garden, his expression a mix of concern and determination.

"(M/n)," Garrett began gently, "I've noticed that you've been keeping your distance from me, and I can't help but wonder why."

(M/n) hesitated for a moment before finally opening up, their voice laced with vulnerability. "Garrett, I've seen your efforts, and I want you to know that it's not because I don't appreciate them. It's just that... I can't return your feelings."

Garrett's brow furrowed in confusion. "Why not? What's holding you back?"

(M/n) took a deep breath, bracing themselves to share a painful part of their past. "Before I came to live with Carlisle, I was a naiad, a freshwater nymph, living out in the open sea. I met someone, another of my kind, and we fell in love. But one day, I had to watch as he was killed by fishermen. It was a brutal and heart-wrenching experience, and ever since then, I've been afraid to fall in love again, afraid of losing someone I care about."

Garrett's heart ached as he listened to (M/n)'s story, understanding the deep pain and fear that lingered within them. Without hesitation, he pulled (M/n) into a comforting embrace. "(M/n), I can't promise to be there forever, but I can promise that I'll cherish every moment we have together. I'll make every moment special, and I'll do my best to show you that love can also bring joy and happiness."

Tears welled up in (M/n)'s eyes as Garrett's words washed over them. They buried their face in his chest, allowing themselves to release the pent-up emotions they had been holding back for so long. Garrett held them close, offering silent support and understanding.

As (M/n) finally looked up at Garrett, their eyes met, and in that moment, all the unspoken feelings they had kept at bay surged forward. Garrett leaned in, capturing (M/n)'s lips in a tender and passionate kiss. It was a promise of love, a vow to cherish each other, and a declaration that, despite the pain of the past, their hearts were ready to embrace a new beginning.

[v1x3n]

[starboye]

imagine loser!simon with hypersexual!reader, it's to much for that man to handle, as much as he wants to fuck you all the time you're just to much for him, you ride him dry all the time and damn when he tries to take a break you give him those cute begging puppy eyes and he's right back down

but sometimes you can be rather... wild with your urges, on several occasions price has caught you both getting it on (his words not mine) in the storage room and every time he has to lecture you both about work place decency but guess who cant even think right now because your jerking him off under the table, if you guessed simon you would be right

watching how he has to bite down on his knuckles to stay quiet and answer price at the same time as you tease his tip and edge him so much, by the end of the lecturing he's just nodding his head to whatever price was talking about to get out of the room quicker

once he's out of that office he's taking you to his room and begging you to ride him, you teasing him about what price was just talking about and how you could both get in trouble but at this point he just wants to cum and he knows you want it too

(wait i kinda like this pair up, might have to dive deeper)

[ofourlee]

megumi x reader

principle 1: date a guy with glasses so you can straighten them after a makeout session!

your lips pull away from his, and for a second, the only sound is the shared, uneven breaths between you.

megumi’s glasses are completely askew, sitting crooked on his nose, one side pressed higher against his cheek while the other hangs low.

the lenses are fogged, blurring the warmth in his eyes that still linger on your face.

a laugh bubbles up from you, soft and a little breathless, as you reach up to straighten them.

your fingertips brush his skin, delicate as you adjust the frames back into place.

you nudge them up the bridge of his nose, and he stays still, letting you take your time like it’s a part of the intimacy, the way you touch him even in these small moments.

“there,” you murmur, inspecting your work, thumb tracing along the edge of the frame. “better?”

megumi blinks, the world coming back into focus, and gives you that familiar, lopsided grin, the one that always makes your heart skip.

“much better,” he replies, his voice low and soft, still thick with the closeness you just shared.

his hand slips to your waist, pulling you in again, but you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips as you teasingly push his glasses up one more time for good measure.

“just making sure,” you say, but before you can say more, his lips are on yours again, and this time, the glasses stay perfectly in place.