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bump1nthen1ght · 17 days

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Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy

Pairing:Trans!Male!Reader x Male!Centaur

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Fluffy Smut, Established Relationship, Breeding Kink

Warnings: AFAB terms used to describe anatomy.

Word Count: 1646 words

Summary: After many nights of diligent practice, you saddle up and take your boyfriend all the way.

FiRequest: could i possibly request male centaur x trans male reader?? they’ve been dating for a while and working up to it but it’s the first time reader has managed to take his boyfriends full cock 🫢 afab terms for anatomy are fine and maybe a little breeding kink thrown in if you’re comfy with it!!

A/N: Y’all know I had to give it this title

You think tonight is going to be the night.

There’s an energy in the air as you watch Samuel cook, perched on your shared couch. He’s always been a handsome centaur; a finely cut jaw with a well-maintained beard, dark caramel eyes set behind long lashes, and silky hair that falls down in luscious curls all the way to his back, but something about tonight had every step he takes stirring something hot in your gut. The way his back stretches out his t-shirt, the way you can see the muscles of his shoulders move as he dices his onions, the way the more human torso arches and his front legs bend as he takes a mini stretch.

Your engine is revved by the time dinner is served, and you know tonight will be the night.

The two of you are locked in a sloppy makeout, dirty dishes still in the sink as you sit on the counter, legs wrapped around Samuel’s ribcage. His long piano fingers dance up your sides, playing with your pajama shirt. You grind against his navel, and he chuckles against your lips.

“Someone’s eager.”

“You’re so hot.” You say between messy kisses, feeling up his muscular lower back. “How could I not be?”

Samuel chuckles again, ignoring your whines and pulling away to kiss at your neck. His hands move from your waist to your butt, sliding under to pick you up. Your ankles cross behind him.

“Need you.” You moan, grinding onto hum like a horny teenage. “Need your cock.”

Samuel’s eyes grow dark, licking his lips as he looks you up and down.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” Your voice keens. “I think-” you suck in a breathe, knowing this a hold claim to make, “-I think I’m ready for all of it”

Samuel’s brows shoot up, taken slightly aback.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I wanna try, atleast.” You pout, fingers carding through his long tresses. “I’ve been practicing so much.”

And you have, both with and without him. You had bought appropriately sized dildo’s to masturabte with, cockwarming during long edging sessions just to make sure. Last time you had been able to take him until 4 inches were left, but you're confident in your practice.

Tonight is the night.

Samuel stares at you for a long time, probably wondering if you’re too crazed on lust to be trusted, but then he smirks.

“Ok, babe. We’ll try.” Samuel hikes you up on his chest, pulling you closer, face-to-face. “Same position as usual?”

You nod, eyes practically full of stars at the thought. Samuel smirks and gives you a peck on the lips, before carrying you to the bedroom.

Samuel is gentle as he sets you down onto the bed, pulling open your bedside drawer to grab the lube and your knee pillow. You stay close by his side, drawing your finders up and down his chest. You bite your lips as you pull up the hem of his shirt, admiring his treasure trail and solid stomach. Samuel shivers when you press a kiss right below his belly button. Your mischievous hand wanders down his lower half and across his front, slipping between his two front legs and petting at his fur. Eyes glance down as well, catching a peak of his cock coming out of its sheath. You wolf-whistle, sliding off the bed and shimmying off your shorts in one motion.

“You’re insatiable, babe. I haven’t even touched you yet.” Samuel says, voice low as his hand brushes between your thighs, just missing your aching hole. You whine, throwing back your ass and laying your torso onto the bed.

“I told you.” Your voice is salacious, lower lip bitten between your teeth, “I need your cock, badly.”

Stars shoot behind your eyelids as Samuel rubs two lubed-up fingers between your lips, middle finger circling your clit. He simpers.

“Yeah, you were made for this dick, huh?” Two fingers slide in easily, scissoring outward to stretch your walls. You just nod, knees digging into their pillow as you sink into the feeling. “Didn’t know my boyfriend was such a cock-tease.”

Samuel climbs up the bed, his two front knees resting beside your shoulders as he aims his cock up with your entrance. He leans forward to grab the bar you two installed just for this position, something to grab on to as he humps. Samuel’s hot head presses against your hole, as girthy as ever.

“Ready?” Samuel whispers from above, neck craned to look down between his legs, always double checking to make sure you're not crushed under his weight. You nod and give a singular pat to his fetlock, your signal to go ahead.

There’s always a slight burn when Samuel enters you, having a nearly 10 inch dick will always do that. But your body falls into position easily, your muscles relaxing to allow for easier entry, no pain causing you to clench up.

“F-uck.” Samuel’s voice drawls as the first inch, then the second, then fourth, then sixth feel your walls clench around him. You bite down on the blanket below you, toes curling into the floor. But you can do it, you can.

He hesitates a bit at the 7th inch, knowing that's usually your limit. But you give him another single pat to the leg, and he keeps going, extra slow.

It takes a tortuous amount if time for both of you, legs shaking from the tension and palpable desire, but then-

“Holy shit.” Samuel says, half amazed and half relieved. You wiggle your hips, and feel Samuel’s balls snug against you.

You’ve fit him to the hilt.

“Well?” You laugh, trying to act as if you're not on the edge just like he is. “What are you waiting for?”

You thrust your hips back, eyes rolling back as Samuel’s dick presses against the deepest part inside you. His breath hitches, stomach trembling above you.

“Oh, you asked for it.” Samuel growls, steadying his hooves.

Despite the sassy tone, Samuel’s first thrusts are tentative. He only pulls out an inch or too, moving at a glacial pace. It’s good for getting you accustomed, but you quickly yourself wanting more. You throw your hips back again, wining like an animal in heat.

“So desperate.” Samuel pants.

“Please, Sammy.” You give him your best puppy eyes from below. “Fuck me.”

That's the straw that breaks the centaurs back, Sam pulling out halfway and slamming into you with enough force to send you a couple inches across the bed. A dumb smile spreads across your face.

It’s no more Mr. Nice Guy as Samuel starts fucking you for real, heavy balls slapping against you with each hump. Your vision goes spotty every time he hits your g-spot, mouth wide open and tongue lolled out in a pant.

“Oh my g-od.” Your voice trembles as your fucked harder than you’ve ever been fucked before, feeling not unlike a fleshlight, yanked down again and again in your boyfriends massive cock. The bed shakes under your weight.

“Take it, take it.” Samuel grunts, his knuckles turning white as they grip on the bar. “Such a good boy, taking my cock all the way to-” a thrust, “-the” and another “-hilt.” and another. Your stomach presses into the eye of the bed, mind slowly losing cohesive thought. His weeping head hits your sensitive spot at the perfect angle every damn time, and you feel jolts of electricity shoot across your nerves with every hump.

Time seems to lose all meaning, words melting into grunts and whines, breathy voices blending together with heavy balls slapping against your thighs. You think you’ve forgotten where Samuel ends and you begin, forgot what it feels like to be empty of his cock. Drool is pooling in your mouth, threatening to dribble down your jaw in an erotic display of decadence.

“Fuck, I’m close.” Samuel grunts, nails grating against the bar. “Where do you want it?”

“Inside.” A voice that must be yours begs, pleads. You can imagine Sam’s smug, sweaty face already.

“Yeah? Want me to breed you?” You nod into the sheets, a dumb smile coming across your face. “Imma fill you up until you're gushing, baby.” Samuel’s hooves presse against the hardwood as he steadies his back two legs, throwing everything into his thrust. “You’d be so cute, my little house-husband, full of my kids.”

Samuels shudders as your hole clenches around him, his dirty talk only working you closer to the edge.

“Sh-it” Samuel draws out his syllables, balls feeling tight against your ass cheeks as his hips begin to stutter. A drop of sweat falls from his chest, rolling down your arched back as his breathing picks up the pace. “Here it comes, sweetheart. All for you. Fuck!”

Your back arches and toes curl as your orgasm hits, gushing with Sam’s cum as he finishes inside of you. Streams run down in rivulets across your thighs, the squelching of skin as Sam pulls out his softening cock.

You lie limp as Sam slowly hops off the bed, his front legs still trembling. He collapses next to you not soon after, laying his upper torso on the bed as his lower one rests on the cold floor. The fur around his legs and back lay datk and slick with sweat, his face flushed.

A calloused palm brushes the side of your face, dragging you out of dream-land and back to reality.

“You did great, babe.” Sam chuckles. “Think I might grow addicted to being all the way in.”

You throw him a lazy thumbs up.

“Not a problem with me.” Your words slur, lips half-pressed against the damp sheets, no doubt an imprint of your sweaty torso on them.

He leans over and kisses your neck, his hand moving to massage your neck.

“Fuck, we forgot about the dishes.”

#my writing #reader insert #monster romance #monster x reader #male reader insert #centaurs

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bump1nthen1ght · 17 days

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Lovers in Arms (Living Armor x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Fem!Knight x Living Armor (He/Him)

Genre:Fantasy, Established Relationship, Slight Exhibitionism

Warnings: None

Word Count:1507 words

Summary: As a famous knight, you’re quite used to receiving unwanted attention from others, romantic or not. Your partner, however, has found another way of coping with it.

Request: Hear me out a female knight x living Armor. Outside is very protective plate armor but the inside is a sticky, slimy mass of tendrils. When she is out fighting everything is normal but when she is talking with people and doing errands is when it starts to become hard to ignore. Doesn't help that the armor dirty talks and praises her while its fondling and screwing her. They both have a great relationship.

“I don’t like this man.”

“I’m aware.” You mumble under your breath, feeling the way Rust squirms and wriggles against your skin, a tell-tale sign of his annoyance. It’s a far cry from his usual movements, which have a way of syncing perfectly to your limbs, slipping right into the natural crevices. “But he’s willing to pay for this next campaign, so we gotta suck up a bit.”

You’d normally not speak so freely with Rust like this, but the man of discussion, some lord or something, is talking about himself so loudly you doubt he notices.

“I’ve heard much about your past battles, good knight! When I saw you would be leading this battalion, I knew I had to come and meet you.” You nod along, used to the simple back and forths of these sorts of conversations. You play the part, stroke their egos, and your knights and squires have full bellies and well-maintained equipment for the rest of their next mission. It’s embarrassing, but worth it. “I must say too, you are much more…beautiful than I expected, captain.”

You internalize a groan, your armor shuddering as Rust’s tentacles tense up.

This happens a lot too.

“I mean not to offend but when I first heard of your epic tales, I thought ‘surely someone so accomplished can’t also be attractive.’ And yet you-” The lord bites his lip in what he mist thinks is charming, “-have enchanted me.”

You muster your best flattered grin, despite the way your stomach sours.

“Thank you, my lord. I assure you the feeling is mu- hngh!” Blood nearly draws from thr forceful bite against your lip, a moan nearly clawing its way out of you mouth. The lord’s eyebrows shoot up. “E-excuse me. I think some of my old battle scars are-” another breathy sigh, your cheeks growing hot, “-acting up. I apologize.”

You don’t stay to hear the lord's worried questions and sympathies, instead running to your tent. You pass by drinking soldiers and courtiers, all celebrating your last victory. None spare a look at their serious captain, knowing how often you retreat your quarters. Surely to look over battle strategies and war routes, always the hard worker.

“F-fuck, Rust.” You pant, nearly collapsing once you reach your bed. The appendage currently circling your clit stops, your cunt aching from the lack of stimulation. “You have to stop doing that.”

“And why should I?” Rust's smug voice echoes in your helm. “Not like that buffon would’ve noticed. Pigheaded, ignorant fool, flirting with you-”

This was a common occurrence as well. Something about military success and captain’s armor has a way of drawing people’s attention, several nobles looking to leech off of the prestige of courting you. While you’ve perfected a method of deflection, seeming humble yet appreciative, Rust can’t help but seeth whenever they start sweet talking. His jealousy comes to a head, all the sass and the passion all bursting out like a broken dam. You’re usually able go escape somewhere private before it becomes too overwhelming, but there have been times you struggle to finish your sentence because of the tentacles fucking you like a piston, his low voice whispering laviscious that echoe in your ears.

“You’re an immaculate treasure, captain. They don’t deserve you.”

“I don’t know when you look more beautiful, on the battlefield or cumming on my tentacles.”

“Cum for me, Captain.”

You learn to give a grated smile, utter an excuse about your old injuries, and hobble away while cum runs down your legs in rivulets.

It can get a little frustrating, but in this moment, you can't say you hate the effect jealousy has on him.

“Forget about him.” You collapsed onto your bed, all thoughts of reprimanding Rust fading from mind. The only need at the forefront of your mind is lust, your body craving the taste of pleasure. “It’s just us now.”

If he could, Rust would surely be smirking.

“That's right. As it should be.” Rust’s voice rumbles all across your body, accompanied by the familiar slipping of his tentacles, all slotting into place. One slides right between your pussy lips, now slick, and resumes circling your clit. “Just you and I, together.”

Your head is thrown back in a moan, helm falling off and letting your hair lie loose. Rust’s inner body only extends to your chestplate, his voice now echoing off your collar and into your ear.

“Yes, pretty girl. Such pretty noises.” Two tentacles encircle your breasts, squeezing and fondling. “My gorgeous captain” The metal shakes with Rust’s purrs, plate joints rubbing against each other as all the tentacles move. “Hmm, I love the way this pussy tastes after a long battle.”

“Rust.” You whine, hand thrown over your face as a hot blush spreads up your neck.

“What? Its true.” A tip of a tentacle prods at your entrance, dancing around it like a tease. “The sweat that drips down between your thighs, your sweet juices…” That tapered tip slowly enters your whole, tabtalizinignly slow, “It’s addictive.”

A shaky sigh is muffled by your palm, your legs instinctively spreading wide as the tentacle stretches you open. Lines of ridges along the side scrape against your walls, sending shocking bolts across your stomach. Your free hand digs into your blankets.

“Divine.” Rust moans, two limbs pressing your breasts together as another slots in between them. The tentacle inside burns as it reaches its girthiest part, the tip now curled against your g-spot. “If those fools ever saw you like this, captain, they’d know how out of their league you are.”

“Aah!” Your hand becomes a fist and you bite down on your knuckles, Rust finally starting to thrust inside of you. In private he likes to take his sweet time setting the pace, unraveling you like a gift.

“I want you to sing for me, general.”

“Oh, fu-uck.” You draw out your vowels, back arching as the tentacles around your nipples twist even tighter. The ones deep in your pussy go frustratingly slow, drawing out to the tip before pressing you open again. “Rust.”

If your enemies could see you now; The fierce Captain of the Crimson Brigade, whose command brought countless victories for the crown, who never rested until the fight was one, begging like a common whore. Your voice all high and needy, so different from the gruff persona you put on when shouting orders.

On the battlefield, you and Rust are all business. Everything clicks, your two bodies moving in perfect synchronicity, throwing javelins and wielding a greatsword with ease. You’re the perfect pair; You bring the technique, he brings the strength, and together you can bring down titans. A force to be reckoned with, that bows to no one.

But it can be exhausting. All those decisions, life-changing decisions, are in your hands. You are the face of this operation, after all, and any missteps reflect on your leadership, no one else's.

So what's wrong with handing the reins over, every once in a while? Let someone set the pace, move your body for you. Let you be the obedient soldier, following the lead.

“Good girl.” Rust purse, and all those troubles from before melting away.

Your thighs fight to clench together as he begins fucking you faster, vision blurring as he hits your g-spot with precision. The merriment of celebration and drunken victory outside are loud enough to drown your wanton noises. Let them have their image of their general, let them have the person you pretend to be on the battlefield. These noises are for Rust, and only Rust.

“I’m getting close.” Your lips quiver, the skin nearly worn thin from your incessant biting. “Please, Rust.”

“How could I ever say no to you, Captain?” A second tentacle slips inside you, joining its twin and thrusting in you like a well-oiled machine. A gaso claws its way out of your throat, hips jumping from the burning stretch. “Especially when you ask so nicely.”

The tentacles twist together, writing against your walls. Your eyes roll back into your head as a buzzing sensation travels up from your core to your face, like you're starting to go numb.

“Oh, gods!” You cry out as the crescendo finally hits, pussy clenching the tentacles in a vice. All of Rust’s appendages shudder, a sultry groan echoing out of your collar.

The armor feels hot, almost too hot as you lay in the end, the high of climaxing slowly fading. Sweat drips down your entire body, loving tentacles lapping them up eagerly. Words still escape you, your thoughts a jumbled mess of sensations and emotions. You should really take a shower, shed Rust and clean him as well, but everything is sore, and your brain calls for sleep.

“Rest, my captain. We can bathe in the morning.”

Rust whispers, low tone only pulling you further into unconsciousness.

In the soft embrace of your lover, you can fall asleep peacefully. No thoughts of battles, or blood, or death. Just the two of you, as always.

#my writing #reader insert #monster x reader #monster romance #female reader insert

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bump1nthen1ght · 1 month

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Worship of a Maiden (F!Reader x M!Satyr)

Pairing: Fem!SoftDom!Reader x Sub!Male!Satyr

Genre: Established Relationship, Domestic, Fluffy Smut

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1361 words

Summary: Your lover does so much for his community, holds so much weight on his shoulders. It only makes sense that you’d take that weight off once in a while

Request: Hi there! I wanted to make a request for a soft femdom reader x male satyr please, if you're interested. Featuring praise, using his horns as handles during cunnilingus, and a titjob as a reward for pussy well ate. Thank you for your time.

On a long day of doing nothing, nothing hots better than an afternoon nap.Especially in your grove, where the sun hits it perfectly at its peak, warm yet not oppressive between the overbrush. The grass feels like a heated quilt against your back, the sound of fresh water trickling from the stream nearby.

You were only asleep for 40 minutes, just letting your eyes rest for a moment in peace. You’re half-awake when Lyterius starts kissing your neck, his stubble scratching against your jaw.

“Hello Handsome.” You yawn, arms stretching as your back arches. Lyterius doesn’t answer, instead nuzzling his neck into the gap of your shoulder and neck. Your hands find their place in his thick curls, rubbing gently into his scalp. “How is everybody?”

Lyterius groans, nuzzling deeper into your neck.

“The council still giving you trouble?”

Calling them a ‘council’ is a bit of a stretch, as the gathering of satyrs is more like a town-hall, with no official leaders or strict procedure, and a lot more wine and drugs.

Lyterius, as one of the older satyrs, often had to wrangle everyone together, make sure that the satyr's connection with nature and Pan was still flourishing. That the young ones weren’t getting too rowdy and forgetting their duties to the forest.

It was a heavy duty for a man who’d much rather be fishing and playing his banjo, a burden that wore him down.

You don't need a direct answer from Lyterius to know he was stressed, that he needs someone else to take the reins for a bit.

Your hands knot tighter into his hair, and kiss his cheek with force. He becomes like honey in your hands.

“Please…” Lyterius moans, “Let me taste you, mistress.”

“Such a polite boy you are.” You kiss the corners of his lips, pulling away as he chases you for more. He likes the chase, the temptation, even if he whines like a brat sometimes..

You shimmy backward on the grass, letting your legs spread and your linen dress fall to the side. Your pussy is bare, already beginning to slicken from Lyterius’s debaucherous gaze.

“Come here, baby. Serve your mistress.”

Lyterius falls to his stomach like a devout man of prayer, scrambling to slot himself between your thighs. His short tail begins to twitch and wag behind him, his calloused hands groping up your ass.

You let your head fall back to the grass as Lyterius takes a whiff of your heated sex, his body trembling as his tongue flickers out of his mouth. His first licks against your lips are soft, too soft. Your hands wrap around the edges of his curled horns and yank him closer to your cunt. A throaty moan vibrates your pussy lips.

“That’s it, dearest. Eat me properly.”

Lyrerius throws himself into his work, drinking your slick like it's an oasis. He licks a long, flat stripe against your clit, groaning as your legs clench around his pointed ears. He sucks on the nub like it's a fresh nectarine, soaking up your contented moans and the taste of your cunt.

By now you’re practically dripping, Lyterius diving head first into your walls with a strong thrust of his tongue. It undulates and pushes, trying to find the most sensitive area. His nose grinds against your clit, and you yank his horns back and forth so it rubs it just the right away.

Your core flexes as your head throws upwards, mouth open lewdly as you watch Lyterius please you.

“Good boy.” You purr, hands rubbing the base of his horns, one of his most sensitive areas. “You always know how to please me, baby. I’d think you were a priest of Eros himself from the you worship me.”

You can see Lyterius eyes rolling backwards from behind his eyelids, a pleasant shiver running down his spine. Another soft spot of his is your sultyr voice in his ear, whispering praises.

His tongue finds it was to your g-spot, thrusting and fucking it with fervor. You bite your lip, using your grip to hump against his jaw.

“F-fuck, that tongue.” You arch your chest, pushing your tits together. “You were made for this, made to be between my legs, to be my baby.”

Lyterius groans into your pussy, his brow furrowing. You notice the movement behind, the way he’s begun humping into the grass. He won't come without your permission, but the friction must be tortuous.

“I’m gonna cum.” You pant, chest heaving. Your hands yank more on his horns, slick bursting into his mouth. Lyterius doesn’t slow down, letting you rice out till completeion. “Fuck, Fuck!”

Your pussy spasms around his tongue, legs wrapping him in a chokehold as your body shakes from the orgasm, Lyterius still licking like a good boy. It's only with a push of your hands that he detaches, trails of your slick spatter around his jaw, his tongue stuck out like a dog.

You take a few seconds to recover, Lyterius pressing hot kisses into your inner thighs as your high slowly fades into embers. Your gaze lazily sweeps down to your lover, whose attention you catch with a pat on his head.

“You’ve been such a good pet, I think you deserve a reward.” Lyterius eyes light up at the word, arms trembling as you pat your chest. He scrambles up eagerly, but he is gentle as he sits in your sternum, trying not to be disobedient despite his growing impatience. His cock theaps against your chest, flushed with blood and leaking precum.

“T-thank you, mistress.” Lyterius pants, sweat and your juices beading his neck. He worries his lips between his teeth as you press your tits together around his shaft, the tip poking out near your jaw. “Thank you.” He grits, hips trembling with forced stillness.

“You may move, pet. This is for you.”

Lyterius wastes no time, planting his hoofs into the grass and gripping onto the side of your tits. His hands envelop yours, and his furry torso begins to humo into your breasts' warm embrace.

“Oh, gods yes.” Lyterius moans, his cock sliding wasily between your tits, aided by your sweat and his precum. “Your tits are incredible, mistress.”

You simply nod, more focused instead on the head of his cock, still dripping and only inches from your mouth. You’re feeling extra generous, and stick out your tongue so that his cock hits it at the peak of every thrust. His whole body shudders.

“Please, may I come on your face, mistress?” Lyterius’ voice trembles, brain scrambling from your soft tits against his cock. You smirk, tongue pushed out longer as you nod again. Lyterius whimpers with joy. “Thank you!”

His thrusts are sloppy, desperate in chasing that high from earlier. The taste of salty cum dabs on your tongue and you can feel him getting closer with each thrust. Heavy balls slap against your under-boob, tight and full of cum. Satyr’s always cum buckets, even with their near limitless stamina, and your pussy throbs at the thought of being covered in it.

“Thank you, th-thank you!” Lyterius yelps as his hips stutter and shake, his cock pulsing as a hot jet of cum flies across your tongue, almost reaching the back of your throat. You just keep smiling, feeling ropes and ropes of cum flood your neck, lips, and cheeks. Lyterius hooves dig grooves into the ground as he rides the crashing wave, falling to the side when he’s finally finished.

—

He pants into the grass, enjoying the lingering dew on his sweaty back and neck as Lyrerius falls to the side. He heats a faint giggle near him, the warm hand of his love patting his cheek. She grabs a handful of water and splashes it over her face and neck, washing herself and her hands before she grabs another and gestures it towards his mouth.

“Drink, my love.”

Water trickles out of the side of his mouth as he sips, barely able to lift his head off the ground. She chuckled again, then slides into his side. She traces circles into his chest.

Truly, what a wonderful maiden he worships.

#my writing #reader insert #monster x reader #monster romance #female reader insert #satyrs

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bump1nthen1ght · 1 month

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On The Leash (M!Reader x M!Werewolf)

Pairing: Male!Power-Bottom!Reader x Male!Sub-Top!Werewolf

Genre: Established relationship, Urban Fantasy

Warnings: Degradation, Name-Calling

Word Count: 1471 words

Summary: Too many people your boyfriend may seem like a big bad werewolf. But for you, he’s just a sweet little puppy.

Request: Hey, I love your works! Can I request power bottom male reader x sub top male werewolf?

Maybe a mix of praise and degradation 👀👀

It’s moments like these that you’re happy you and your boyfriend have your own apartment.

Without roommates, you’re free to lounge in your boxers on the couch anytime of day. Your boyfriend can walk around with a towel slung around his hips, fully shifted and relaxed. You can admire the curve of his ass and smack it the next moment, and he can crawl right over you and slot his lips into yours. The heat and excitement can escalate, your hands wandering and hips grinding as your breathing gets heavy, as your kisses get sloppy.

Like now, for instance.

Ben’s fur smells fresh, the lavender scent of that fur-spray you gave him. His snout is wet against your ciollarbone as he licks and kisses at your chest. A heavy bulge rests against your thigh as he slips in between your legs, your fingers curling through his fur.

“Thinking about me in there?”

“Maybe.” Ben chuckles, peppering your face with kisses. “I saw you and couldn’t contain myself.”

“Hmm, naughty boy.” Your fingers yank on the back of his head, forcing him back and away from your lips. Ben’s tongue lolls out in a pant, the pain only making his cock twitch. “Did you touch yourself?”

Ben’s neck rolls with a heavy breathe.

“M-maybe.”

You pull again, wrapping your leg around one of this thighs to keep his cock pressed against you, choosing to ignore the way he humps against you.

“It’s a yes or no question.”

“Yes! Yes I did.”

You click your teeth, exaggerating your false “disappointment”.

“And yet you didn’t invite me in. That was rude, dear.” Your other hand plants itself on the couch, using it as leverage to push up and kiss his bobbing neck. “I think someone needs to be reminded of his place.”

Ben is large fellow, pushing 6’4 and all muscle and mass. Yet in your hands he’s like putty, weight following easily as you flip yourself over and on top of him. His cock tents his towel, the white fabric falling between his thighs like a sexy loincloth.

“Since you felt selfish enough to jerk off without me, I think I’ll put that cock to good use.” You fish your dick out of your boxers, shucking them down your thighs and off your ankles. Ben growls, his chest rumbling underneath as he watches your head smack against your stomach. But any authority is lost with the keening whine as you grab his own cock, hand gripped tight around the base.

“Uh-uh, I’m setting the pace for this one, dear. If you even try to move without my permission-” Your thumb yanks his cock forward, another whine coming from Ben’s chest. “-You don’t get to cum. Understand?” Ben nods his head, eyes watery and desperate as you slowly shift up your hips, grabbing a spurt of lube from a nearby bottle (another benefit of living without roommates) and coating his cock.

You're slow and controlled as you sink onto Ben’s dick, his head thrown back in a muffle howl when you fit him to the hilt. The burn is only slight, plenty of practice making the motion feel natural.

“Eyes on me, or you’ll regret it.” You bark, hips grinding against his. Ben whines again, but follows you obediently, his pupils wide as he bites his bottom lip.

A jolt shoots up your spine as the head of Ben’s cock grazes your prostate, and you fight the urge to start using him like a sex toy immediately. He needs to earn that privilege.

You set a slow pace, merely rocking your hips back and forth, letting that pressure hit just right deep inside of you. Ben’s tail swings agitated behind you, his thighs shaking as he forces himself to stay still. He’s being awfully good, but to torture him more you make sure to exaggerate your breathy moans, rubbing a hand down your chest as you sway.

“S-shit, you’ve got such a perfect cock.” Bem’s ears perk up, another purr rumbling between your legs. “Always stretching me open so perfectly. Just how I like it.” The hand on your chest moves down to your navel till you reach your dick, rubbing your thumb across your weeping head. Ben’s dark tongue darts across his lips when you spit into your open palm and begin to jerk yourself off. “Fuck~”

You can feel Ben’s cock twitching inside of you, veins throbbing as you tease. But he hasn’t moved or looked away, obediently following your every command, even as you torture him. Those big brown eyes of his look so cute in this position, so eager to please you.

“You’re being an awfully good boy, Ben. I’m impressed.” Your free hand runs down his chest, drawing circles in his lower stomach, admiring the way he twitches and shakes form the smallest of contact. “I think you’ve earned yourself a reward.”

You splay your fingers onto Ben’s chest, finding grip on his fur as you lean upwards off his cock, pulling out until only the tip remains. Ben’s ears curl forward, his mouth open to beg for more when you throw yourself back onto the hilt, voice catching in his throat.

“Hnggh!”

You set a brutal pace, rocking your couch across the cheap flooring. His heavy, sweaty balls slap against your ass cheeks as you ride him like a prize stallion. Your hand sloppily continues jerking your cock, chasing the knot that tightens with every thrust backwards.

Ben, to his credit, still keeps his eyes on you, the order not rescinded. His long claws dig into the sofa cushion to keep his focus, watching you bounce on his dick. His shaky pupils dart between your face and your cock.

“P-please.”

“Please what? You need to speak up, dummy.” You tease, despite the way your voice shakes from exertion, sweat dripping down your forehead.

“Please, let me fuck you.”

“Hmmm.” You tap your chin, fake contemplating as you swivel your hips. “I’m feeling generous, so I suppose that could work.” Ben’s ears shoot straight up, his tail thumping against the couch as you lean backwards. There’s a wet schlick as you pull his cock out and lay yourself backwards, legs spread wide. You keep a firm grip around your shaft, licking your lips as Ben scrambles to mount you.

Ben’s hands shake as he pushes your thighs up to your chest, tongue lolled out in desperate pants as he lines his aching cock up with your hole. Ben’s a large fella, easily covering up your whole body as his hot head presses against the ring of muscle.

“Holy shit.” Ben’s eyes twitch as he sinks deep into you. With his patience all spent up, he instantly ruts into you like an animal, the sound of slapping skin echoing off the shitty apartment walls. His brow furrows as his breathing gets heavy, all those muscles put into action with his harried thrusts.

“Hey, look at me.” A soft touch to his jaw has Ben focusing back on you, hot breaths flowing across your face. Your thumb brushes across his cheek. “You’re my good boy, aren’t you?”

“I-I’m your good boy.” Ben stutters out, his cock twitching unside you.

“Good boys get to cum inside.” Your voice falls into purr, your grip soft as you carress Ben’s face. His pupils have blown wide, his thrusts picking up speed as he finally gets to chase his high. You keep talking, knowing he loves the sound of your voice. “You treat me so well, always know how to make me feel fantatsic.” You punctuate your sentence with a breathy moan, feeling yourself get closer and closer.

Ben loses himself in his focus, falling down to his elbows and pressing his chest against yours. Fur and skin stick together in a sweaty tangle, but you don’t care. You press a kiss against the side of his mouth, enjoying the taste of salt.

Your eyes scrunch up tight as you feel your orgasm approaching, your balls tightening with every thrust of Ben’s hips.

“Aah~” Your vowels wobble as your hips and cock jerk, finishing all over Ben’s stomach. Ben digs his muzzle into your neck, his chest heaving against yours.

Time for his reward.

“Cum for me, baby.” You whisper in Ben’s ear, his whole body trembling as he hits his peak, fresh jets of cum filling you up.

“Fuck!”

Ben draws out the last syllable, hips still humping, his semen deep inside you, He collapses on top of you, tail flopped to the side. He’s still cock-drunk, eyes wobbling and bereft of speech. You fall into the heated mess, your boyfriend feeling like a weighted blanket on top of you. A sweaty, stinky weighted blanket.

But he’s all yours and you're all his, and that is what matters at the end of the day.

#my writing #reader insert #monster x reader #male reader insert #monster/human #werewolves #werewolf x reader

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bump1nthen1ght · 1 month

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Do the Crime, Pay the Time (M!Reader x M!Undead Knight)

Pairing: Male!Artist!Reader x Male!Undead Knight

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Misunderstandings

Warnings: Extremely Dubious Consent, No preparation

Word Count: 2254 words

Summary: All you had wanted was to paint, to decorate these abandoned ruins with your art. But it seems your presence is unwanted at these ‘abandoned’ ruins.

Request: i have an idea for a request,,

how bout an Undead Male Knight x Male Graffiti Artist

The Graffiti artist would wander into some ruins away from the city to paint a mural, unknowing of its origins and get caught by the Undead Knight…

Maybe some punishment for trespassing on the ruined kingdoms property,,? 🥹

You should have known this place was too good to be true.

You had stumbled upon it wandering one day, shocked that the crumbling ruins weren't kept behind a “KEEP OUT - PRIVATE PROPERTY” sign. That wouldn’t have stopped you, of course, but the fact the large complex was seemingly abandoned made it all the more interesting.

Most of the ceiling had caved in, remnants of flying buttress and great arches overgrown with moss and water damage. Some remains of stained glass lay shattered on the ground, brushed into the corners by the wind or wandering animals.

But what takes your attention is the surprisingly intact wall, clean of debris and dust. It’s perfect for a mural, and on first site the painting is already forming in your head.

You head home to pack up supplies and pray it stays unsigned by the next day. Your arms shake from all your equipment - a ladder, cans, some brushes and paints - and you mentally cheer once you see the clear wall left intact.

The high of uninhibited artistic creation must dull your senses, because you do not hear the crunching of rusted armor or the dragging of long-slept limbs. No, it’s not until you’re being choke slammed into your easel that you realize this place was very much inhabited.

“Speak your name, intruder.”

Your attacker’s voice is low, tense and full of authority. Your nails scramble at the armored hand holding you up, trying to pry them off your throat.

I need to breathe to speak, you psycho!

You try to scream with your eyes, feeling your vision go spotty.

All you can see of your assailant is a glowing green eye, trembling like an open flame out from their dark helm. The light from it hints at something underneath, bleach white like bone, but it must be from the lack of oxygen to your brain. Surely he isn’t-

The man loosens his hold on your jugular, blood rushing back in as you suck in a deep breath. You slowly regain your faculties, and your eyes begin to adjust in the low light of the morning.

“I didn’t realize-”

The arm pushes you further against the wall, raising you so your legs dangle like a ragdoll.

“I asked for your name, not an excuse.”

The voice says, no less angry than before. A filtered beam of sunlight comes through one of the stained glass windows, and you see another glimpse of his face.

Your brain hasn't deceived you. It was bone, a stripped clean skull right underneath a fiery green eye. But it was only one half, the other side being that of a shockingly handsome knight, sharp cheekbones and a smatter of freckles. His more human eyes are the same acid-green as the other, but doesn’t burn or glow the same way.

“___! My name is ____!” You gasp, hands still desperately trying to rip away his fingers.

The knight hums, eyes rolling down your form. It’s just some painter's overalls and a t-shirt, surely different from the thieves and nobles he is more familiar with.

“Why do you trespass on this place that is not your own?” He commands, holding you up with minimal effort. The bulk underneath his armor must not be just for show, especially with the large greatsword he wields on his back.

“I didn’t know someone was here! I just wanted-” You choke, feeling the palm of his armor digging into your jaw. You tap it furiously, and the knight must deem you harmless enough to set you down on the ground without a fight.

You drop to your butt, hands clutching what is surely your bruised throat.

“I just wanted to paint.” You urge, trying your best to seem innocent and non-threatening. This dude seems to have a hair-trigger temper.

The human eye appraises you again, the knight humming with burgeoning thoughts.

“I see.” The bared teeth of his skull clink together as his mouth grits, brow half-furrowing as he thinks on what to do with you. You eye that massive sword, brain going for the worst.

“Listen, I can go right now. I won’t tell anyone about this place, and once again I am so sorry-”

A palm is in your face, the other creasing the growing knot in the knight's brow. He seems less angry now, more frustrated. The bared teeth clink together.

He keeps his thoughts to himself as he stews, seemingly having a mini argument in his head.

“I see you are not a thief, nor do you seem to have…” Both eyes roll down your outfit again, taking stock in your lack of weapons or tools, “...nefarious intentions. But nonetheless you have disturbed this holy place, and for that my cursed commands I punish you.”

You grab your throat, instincts somehow believing your hand could stop that sword from separating your head from the rest of your body.

But the knight just sighs, arms not going for his great sheath, and instead kneels before you.

The gauntlet is cold against your flushed cheek, the knight's hand nearly the size of your face as he tilts your jaw to him. His face has fallen back to flat, contemplative and in control.

The human iris feels hot as it looks down the column of your neck, eyes your heaving chest, still full with nervous breaths. You think you see it sweeping lower, lower, before darting back.

“I suppose I can provide punishment in an alternative way to the convention.” The knight grips your jaw, yanking you forward.

His glowing eye is hard to look away from. You feel like a moth, drawn in by the flickering emerald spits in his eye. Your heart thuds in your ears, wondering if you’re about to get the beating of a lifetime

And then the bastard kisses you.

Well, half-kisses you. The lips he has are soft and plump, conveying a lot of experience with one smooth motion. The bone is a little more jarring, jagged teeth crashing against yours, yet making the same movements as the lips.

All in all though, not the worst kiss you’ve ever had.

The knight pulls away, no breath being lost on his end as a string of saliva connects your wet lips. Both eyes burn with something familiar,and he flicks a tongue across his half-lip.

“Yes, I think this will do perfectly.”

Before you can clarify, the knight meets you in another steaming kiss. It's quicker than the last, lips traveling down your neck and sucking hickies into the flesh. The knight seems particularly enraptured by your pulse, lingering and nipping at the pumping blood.

Ok, I guess this is happening.

You don’t really have a place to complain, as it seems your options are this or grave bodily harm. But even so, the flight-or-fight, survival monkey part of your brain tries to see the bright side. The bright side being that this guy isn’t too bad looking, and seems to be a very affectionate lover.

“U-uh mister knight-” You stutter out, brain beginning to bounce back from the shock of the last five minutes, “-what may I call you?”

“Sir Arthur.”

“Okay, Sir Arthur.” Your voice becomes breathily as Sir Arthur’s hands drift down your coveralls, deftly undoing your straps and yanking your pants loose around the waist. A metal hand caresses under your leg, groping the bottom of your thigh before reaching the fat of your ass, where it pushes and kneads like it was bread dough. Your body's instinctive reaction is to lurch forward, unintentionally grinding your crotch against his. There's muffled growls against your skin, and those gauntlets are back to yanking off your pants and underwear.

The castle floors send goosebumps down your bare legs, Arthur’s armor feeling ixy as he throws them over his thighs. The steel sends a jolt through you, your hips canting backwards as your cock feels the cold steel. But Sir Arthur’s grip is strong, his forearm keeping your power back in place. His hips swivel, groaning as he paws at your ass.

Does he even have a-

Your sarcastic question is answered with a couple pull of straps and the clank of armor falling to the ground. Something hot, heavy, and sticky thwaps against your stomach, brushing against your cock.

Sir Artur is still lost in kissing your shoulder, leaving several hickeys behind, and you feel comfortable letting your eyes drift downward. Unsurprisingly, his inhuman cock is as green as his eye, though luckily not on fire. No, in fact the ghost-cock seems to ooze a neon fluid, not dissimilar from cheap ectoplasm effects in movies.

Well, I guess we don’t need lube.

Your thoughts take a turn as you're suddenly thrown on your back, ankles still hooked around his back as Sir Arthur pins you to the ground. He’s pulled away from your neck, now focused on pushing your thighs back to your chest.

“Too long I have been without touch. This heat-” Sir Arthur’s chest rumbles with a purr, the flaming eye pulsing, “-it’s addictive.”

A warm head pushes against your entrance and you thank whoever’s up there for that spooky slime he has going on, because wow this man was packing.

Sir Arthur takes his time sinking inside of you, savoring every second of stretching you open. His armor clinks together as his body shutters, head thrown back in a moan.

“By the gods.” He swears in a dead language as he reaches his hilt, green drool seeping out of his skull jaw. A keening whine comes for your chest, your cock twitching as the tapered head grazes against your prostate.

The first thrust is tentative, but Sir Arthur seems encouraged by the yelp which explodes between your bitten lips. The nex thrust is slightly faster, sending a shock of pleasure all the way down your spine. Your toes curl behind his back, a drunken haze making your nerve ends tingle.

Sir Arthur’s armor trembles again, but it seems he’s found the rhythm he needs, and begins fuckign to you with a feevent desperation. Trails of slime connect your ass cheeks to his crotch as he thrusts down and into you, raspy breaths leaking from between his ribs.

Beads of precum bubble at your tip, cock aching for a single touch. Your balls twitch and tighten with each of his guided humps, all targeted perfectly at your sensitive spot. Bubbles of blood come from your worried bottom lip, and your needy moans echo across the destroyed ruins of the castle.

A part of you prays no one else stumbles upon this site and overhears your debauchery, sees you spread wide open for this hulking beast of a corpse. This knight who is far too good at fucking, whose cock deserves to have a dildo modeled after it. With a slime function, of course.

Heavy balls slap against your ass, cold trails of Sir Arthur’s ooze dripping down your ass crack and onto the floor. An armored thumb presses down on your lower lip, prodding you to open your mouth. With a brain too cock-drunk to fight your jaw opens easily, the taste of polished metal on your tongue.

“Suck, whore.” Sir Arthur commands, voice dripping with desire. Your tongue wraps around each groove and sucks, your cheeks hollowing as Sir Arthur groans at the sight. The tears bubbling at the corners of your eyes, the mating press, it all drives him wild. The position of knight suits him well if all it takes is a little power to make him horny.

He’s not a particularly loud lover, Sir Arthur. Most of the noises is slapping skin and clinking armor, only some low grunts and curses joining the cacophony as fucks you with more and more fervor. But it’s the way his fiery eye begins to ignite, the way he bites his half lip enough to draw sickly green blood, and the tightness of his balls which tell you he’s close.

“I’m going to fill you to the brim.” Sir Arthur punctuates his sentence with a hard thrust against your prostate, spots dotting your vision. “You will leak of me for days, trespasser. I will make sure of it.”

You feel your own orgasm brewing in your stomach, cock weeping as your balls grow tight. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull.

“F-fuck.” Sir Arthur draws out his vowel as he ends with several harried thrusts, hilted deep inside when he finally climaxes. What feels like a gallon of oozing, green-tinted cum fills you up, bursting from between the seams of your connection and spurting into the floor. He was right, you will be leaking him for days. Your own orgasms comes just as dramatically, mouth open inna breathless scream as you finish all over your stomach,

You don’t quite remember him leaving you, only the gaping emptiness left behind. It's taking a bit for your consciousness to reboot, to remember where you are. But there’s the sensation of cold against your skin, a wet rag rubbing down your sore entrance and across your stomach. A dull heat radiates through metal, massaging your thighs and neck as you’re laid on your back.

True warmth comes in the form of a heavy blanket, and your eyes flutter close under its softness.

“Rest your eyes, artist.” Sir Arthur whispers. “I will escort you back when you awake.”

Your last thoughts are vague, somewhat remembering the various paints you brought with you, and the pain they’ll be to carry home unemptied.

#my writing #reader insert #monster romance #male reader insert #monster x reader #requests

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bump1nthen1ght · 1 month

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The Prince of Hell is Not a Gentleman (F!Reader x M!Demon)

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Male!Boss!Demon

Genre: Urban Fantasy

Warnings: Non-Con, Forced Exhibitionism, Forced Infidelity, Abuse of Power and Work Dynamics, Degradation, Misogyny

Word count: 2815 words

Summary: You’ve tried your best to ignore the ridiculously inappropriate behavior of your boss, desperate to keep your job and knowing a filed complaint will get you nowhere. But one fateful meeting pushes your relationship to a whole new level

Request: I got a request!

Female human coworker with a scummy male demon boss. When I mean scummy I mean a proper PoS. Coercing her into sex when she is already with someone, smoking cigars and blowing it in her face, and making her call her partner while he is fucking her.

Isn’t workplace sexual harassment supposed to be subtle?

You think to yourself, simultaneously wondering how the fuck you got in the position to be thinking such a thing in the first place.

You’ve been to HR training, seen those types of creepy bosses. The ones who hide behind being overly “friendly” and saying “everyone’s so sensitive these days.” You’d known to report them, to not stand for their gaslighting.

But nothing really prepared you for this.

Sugartits, in my office ASAP.

The crude sticky note stuck to your computer monitor reads, sending your heart all the way into your gut.

You’ve only been at this job for two months, settling in nicely to the routine and your fat paycheck every two weeks. The only issue so far has been your boss.

The demon himself is named Solvaloth, AKA Sol, and is the supervisor for your entire department. He’s a high prince of hell that no one felt like dealing with down there, so was kicked upwards and saddled with a cushy position in this hell-associated company. He’s big, loud, and frustratingly handsome. The kind of handsome that has treated him well his entire life and in turn convinced him that he’s Lucifer’s favorite creation.

You’re the only human in this whole department and that novelty probably drew him your way in the first place. He quite literally cornered you on your first day, his clawed hands pressed against the wall behind you, a leering smile full of canines looking down at his new toy.

“Damn, it must be my lucky day.”

Since then, he has been the bane of your very existence. Grabbing your hips when he ever needs to “scoot” by, whispering dirty compliments in your ear, even looking down your blouse whenever he “pops” by your cubicle. Not to mention the patronizing nicknames.

“File these papers for me, won’t you sweet cheeks?”

“Looking good today, princess.”

“C’mon baby girl, give me a break here.”

Guess you can add Sugartits to the list.

You try not groan audibly as you trudge your way to his office. Knowing that no matter what he does, how inappropriate he is, HR will do nothing.

(You would know, you tried. The message of “don’t bring this up again” was made very clear.)

His door is stupid tall, meant to accommodate his giant size and extra large horns. You open it as slow as possible, trying your best to delay this ‘meeting.’

“You know how to keep a demon waiting, honey.” Sol turns around in his opulent office chair, legs spread wide and head thrown back without a care. His hair hangs loose and wild behind him, a white mane tucked in between two curving horns. Despite the snarky tone, he’s got a sickeningly sweet grin on his face. “Lock the door, please. We’re gonna need privacy.”

Ugh, I cannot deal with this today.

But you comply, flipping the lock. You don’t notice the way his curtains have been drawn, or how everyone else has been encouraged to go on a long lunch.

“Is everything okay?”

Sol leans forward, that smug grin still on his face. He puts a hand up to his ear, batting his eyes in a cartoonish display of “what was that?”

You sigh.

“Is everything okay, sir?”

“That's my girl.” Sol laughs, slapping his knee and gesturing for you to sit down.

You pull back your chair, keeping your ankles crossed. You curse yourself for wearing a pencil skirt today, chiding morning-you for forgetting where you work. Sol’s eyes burn as they roll up your pantyhose, not even trying to hide his leering.

“Actually, everything’s not okay.”

That has you sitting up, a seed of worry in your gut. As much as he sucks, this job pays really fucking well, and you can’t risk loosing it.

“You see, I overhead Mazey in accounting gossiping over the water cooler. Said something about how the human has a new boy-toy.” Sol crosses his arms across the table, making his large chest seem even bigger.“That true?”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Of course he called you in for that.

“Not that it’s anyone’s business, but yes. I am seeing someone.”

A nice human guy you met at a bookstore, named Rich. He was cute, with fluffy hair and a sweet smile. You had only been on a couple dates, nothing exclusive yet, but you saw a potential future with him.

Sol clicks his teeths, his eyebrows furrowing as that smug grin drops down to a disappointed pout.

“That’s gonna be a little problem, because last I checked-” Sol gestures back and forth between you two, “-I’m your boss.”

You raise a brow. “So?”

“As your boss, I kind of get final say in everything. I mean, everything.” Sol leans even farther forward, gut pressed into his desk. He’s so close you can feel his breath, see the way his hair falls from behind his pointed ears. “That includes who you spread those little legs for, capische?”

A hot blush runs up your neck, a combination of shock and anger shot through you like adrenaline.

You had kept a stiff upper lip for most of his shenanigans, for his stupid ego and this job, but this? This was crossing a line.

“That is not-”

“You want to keep your job?”

In just a sentence he steals the thunder out of your voice, a vice grip clutching around

your heart.

“You wouldn’t.”

Sol shrugs, eyes rolling.

“Why not? Can’t have a little slut like you distracted all day, thinking about some human.”

He says the word like a curse, practically spitting it.

“This, this isn’t-” Your lost momentum has you floundering, trying to find ground to stand on. But you’re trapped; You know it, and he knows it.

You take a deep breath, trying to reel in the desire to leap across the desk and strangle him.

“What do you want.” You state, not ask.

His lips curl up, his devilish nature on full display.

“I want you to do what you were always meant to do.” Sol leans back, tapping his chin. “You’re gonna plant that pretty pussy on my face, and let me show you a good time.”

Your ears feel hot, tears bubbling at the corner of your eyes. There's a distinct taste of shame in your mouth.

But you can’t lose this job. Can’t be blacklisted in the industry, which this spiteful bastard probably would do to get back at you.

So you sit up, kick off your heels, and ignore the way Sol licks his lips.

Your thumbs go down under the waistband of your skirt, before Sol stops you.

“No, keep it on.”

You stop, wondering what his plan is, and tepidly walk towards him.

Sol’s eyes elevate up and down, switching the knob on his chair to recline slightly. He pats his chin again, a long tongue poking out between his teeth.

“That’s right, baby. Come to papa.”

You hate the way the curdles your stomach, the way your legs begin to shake.

Just to be an asshole, Sol does nothing to help you climb up his chest. He sits with his arms crossed behind his head, smug as you struggle up his body.

Your skirt begins to naturally hike up as you shimmy, almost to your underwear by the time your legs are around Sol’s shoulders. You have to lean your hands in the walk behind his head to stay stable, a deliberate placement that forces your crotch right in his face.

With your legs slotted around his neck Sol's hands find their place in your ass, yanking you forward and taking a deep whiff of your pussy. A wet tongue follows it soon after, soaking the thin fabric and rubbing dangerously against your clit. You bite your lip, feeling the skin almost burst under teeth and pressure. He’s already humiliated you enough, Sol is not getting noises out of you.

Sol is ravenous, his sharp canines deftly tearing apart the fabric of your tights and panties, just missing the fat of your thighs on their way in. He has no patience once he reaches his prize, thick tongue shoved in with little preparation. Your hands scratch at the cheap company paint of the wall behind you, still refusing to let a peep out. Even as your body betrays your mind and your pussy begins to slicken.

Your eyes can’t help but wander downward, a jolt shooting up your spine when you realize Sol is looking directly at you. His nostrils flare as your eyes meet, his tongue curling and stretching open your walls. He must see the way your brow scrunches, how flushed your face is getting. There's a look of pride in his eyes that makes you burn.

Sol nuzzles his nose, digging his tongue deeper inside and you hate the way it rubs against your clit and makes your toes curl. It sucks how good he is at this, how your legs are beginning to tremble not from fear but from pressure. You’ve been able to stay quiet so far, but the moans are fighting towards the surface with every sultry lick.

You know you’re in trouble when one of his hands sneaks from your ass and over your thigh, Sol’s thumb coming to rub and flick at your clit. A moan crawls up your throat and you try to choke it down with another bite of your lip. But your legs clench around Sol’s head, your hips chasing the friction as he pulls you taught like a bow string.

Damnit, it had given you a sort of satisfaction to assume he was one of those guys who was all talk, no action. A dirty mouth that probably never went down, never brought his partners pleasure. This is just another slap in the face.

“Hmmph!” Your hand throws across your mouth, hunching forward as Sol finds that sensitive spot inside. Electricity shocks across your abdomen.

Please, no.

Sol is relentless in his chases, spurred on by your noise and fucks his tongue like a piston against your g-spot.

Too good, too good. I’m gonna-

“Angh~!” Your back arches, breath finally escaping as your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave. You refuse to look down, refuse to see the satisfied look on the bastards face.

But you never get a chance, as Sol hooks his strong arms around your legs and picks you up like a ragdoll. With a surprising gentleness he is able to sling you down his abdomen, turn you around to your stomach and pinned to his desk. Your skirt stays bunched around your hips, the slutty hole in your stockings ripped wider by fervent claws.

“Hey, kitty kitty~” Sol coos, fingers spreading your pussy’s lips wide open for him. “I knew you’ve a nice cunt, baby. Knew it right when I saw you.” Sol slaps your pussy, chuckling when you flinch. “Perfect for daddy.”

A hot head presses against your entrance and you know immediately that he is too big for you.

And he has a big dick?! What the fuck?!

“Wait, Sol-”

“Waited long enough, sugar tits.” The head presses deeper, the stretch cutting any words right out of your mouth. “Let’s fuck that attitude right out of you.”

Sol plunges in, aided by your slick and a fresh glob of spit. The dam being broken, your humiliation at its peak, you don’t try to hide your gasping breathes.

“Fuck!” Your shout, hips traitorously swinging backwards, urging him deeper into your guts. There's a deep groan from Sol’s chest and the scratching of hardwood. A glance to your side sees his claws have dug lines into his fine desk.

“S-shit. You’re fucking tight.” Sol gives an experimental thrust, the desk and bouncing forward. “That little boy toy of yours must have a pencil dick or something.” A large hand grabs your jaw, forcing your back to arch as he pulls you back to him. “Or has he not fucked you yet?”

You don’t dignify him with a response. Sol clicks his teeth.

“Whelp, I guess we’ll have to ask him.”

That jolts you awake, eyes widening as you realize Sol’s slipped your phone out of your skirt's pocket. The home screen is in front of you, your face unlocking it with ease. That fight instinct comes back and you begin squirming.

“Ah, ah.” Sol needs only one hand to pin you down, back on your stomach now that he’s on your phone. “What’d Mazey say his name was, Richie?” Sol casually scrolls through your contacts, humming as he spots Rich’s contact, with an emoji heart next to it. “There he is. Let’s give him a call, clear this up.”

You squeak in exertion, trying your damnedest to wiggle away and escape. But Sol’s grip is like iron, and Rich answers on the second ring.

“Hey there, what’s up?”

Sol leans down to look at you, tapping the speaker option, and makes a motion for you to talk.

“N-nothing much. Just-” Sol gives another hump, the desk legs squeaking against the linoleum. “-just thinking about you.”

You hate how Rich’s ‘aww’ is tainted by Sol, tainted by the noise of his hips slamming against your backside. You pray Rich’s phone has shitty audio, that he’s totally oblivious today. That he overhears the slapping of skin and the shaking of the desk to be some weird aspect of your demon company, and not what it really is.

“Thinking about you a lot too.” Richie says, and you try to dim the breathy moan that gets through. Sol’s nails dig into your hips, yanking you like a fleshlight. “Wanna meet up this weekend?” Sol slams a hand down, clawing a NO into the hardwood. Rich tone switches to concern. “Woah, what was that?”

“S-sorry, dropped a stapler, heh.” You throw your head down, chest heaving as another knot pulls in your stomach. Your words are beginning to feel foggy, your brain fuzzy as Sol finds your g-spot and starts brutalizing it with his cock. “Can’t this weekend unfortunately. Got some extra w-work to do.”

“Damn, wish I could help.”

Sol barely muffles his chuckles, patting your ass as he leans forward, whispering filth in your ear.

“Cum around my cock, baby~ I know you want to.”

You shake your head, tears dripping down your cheeks as you nuzzle your face into the desk. Sol laughs into your neck, his cock twitching at your frustration.

“Well, I gotta get back to w-work. Just wanted to-” You suck in a deep breath. “-hear your voice.”

“I love hearing your voice too, babe.”

Your heart aches at the sincerity in his tongue, imagining his sweet face. Wishing it was him behind you right now, making you feel this good.

“Ok, see you later.” Your voice whines as a shaky hand taps the phone to off, making sure you’ve hung up before collapsing back into the desk.

Sol cackles behind you, hips swiveling.

“Sounds like a fucking loser. I guess I was right.” Sol’s tongue licks up the side of your cheek. “If he had fucked you, he wouldn’t be calling you ‘babe’.” Sol pitched his voice up high, mockingly, before pulling back his teeth in a snarl. “He’d be calling you whore.”

Sol yanks on your hair, baring your neck and sucking huge hickies right below your jaw. His hips begin to stutter, the balls slapping against your clit feeling tight as he exhales through his nose.

“Please…not inside.”

“I know you’re on birth control, bitch. I do what I want.”

Sol detached with wet lips from your neck, hand now on the back of your skull and forcing you down to the cool desk surface. Your breath leaves a foggy trail in its wake, your eyes rolling back as Sol reaches a peak in his intensity.

“Fuck, fuck!” Sol cries, claws digging lines into your skin as he begins to jerk and twitch. Soon after you feel a heavy warmth shoot deep inside of you, rivulets of cum dripping out between your two bodies and on to the desk.

There's a distinct feeling of emptiness in your gut when Sol pulls out, even with the sticky strings of semen stuck in between you. A thick finger pushes back in any lealing cum, Sol’s cooing voice admiring your fucked out pussy.

You can hardly think, your brain caught in a self-defensive haze as you just try to catch your breath. If you think you’ll hear Rich’s voice, have to feel the intense shame burning inside your chest, feel the red hot anger that you’re too tired to act on.

A warm hand caresses your face, pushing messy hair out of the way. Somewhere distant, Sol chuckles. “Yeah, just like I thought.” You hear the brief click of a camera. “Such a perfect cock-slut, all for me.”

#my writing #reader insert #monster romance #monster/human #requests #female reader insert #monster x reader

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