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mommymilkerssociety · 19 days
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CURB THIS SICKNESS. . . ! — ( SOFT YANDERE!PLAGUE DOCTOR OC X READER. )
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#. synopsis! — there's a virus outside that's snuffed out the lights of many. . . and lucian refuses to let you meet such a miserable fate .
#. contains! — f!reader , explicitly nsfw content , multiple orgasms , vaginal fingering , implications of paranoia , cum swallowing , oral sex , cunnilingus , blowjob , vaginal sex , obsessive behavior , frequent usage of endearment terms (love, darling, angel) , missionary position , bathing , established relationship , slight choking , slight hair pulling , creampie , biting .
#. word count! — 5.1k .
#. oc carrd! — click here to find more information on lucian + other original characters of mine that i might write for in the future! xx .
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When the virus began to spread in all directions from its alleged location of origin, —you were certain you’d be dead before winter. If not from sickness, then certainly from another disease, or at the hands of some twisted maniac just searching for someone to slaughter that nobody would care enough to miss. You thought it was only a matter of time before you succumbed to hunger or thirst or the changing chill of autumn, or maybe something completely different: but something was bound to happen, and you were sure of it.
And it did. . . But it was nothing like what you had in mind.
Lucian may have seemed like something out of a horror story passed down through generations, still clad in his working attire the night he scooped you up in his arms from a shabby alleyway like a stray kitten, but he was surprisingly gentle (and perhaps unusually quiet.) He wasn’t very talkative, but he cared for you in a way you were completely unaccustomed to, —prepared you a warm meal, brewed you chamomile tea, ran you a hot bath, and gave you a place to sleep for the night. He said you were slightly fevered and a bit malnourished, but all things considered, it could have been worlds worse.
“You’re lucky,” he hummed, a gloved hand smoothing over your jaw, “the pestilence hasn’t taken hold of you.”
Even back then, that wasn’t why you felt lucky. . . No, much to the contrary, you felt lucky because this man had taken you in without expecting anything of you in return, and he sought to keep you safe from the rot of the outside world. Thus, little by little, you stopped caring much about going out there. 
His place is a bit quaint for two, but it’s homey, and it smells perpetually of lavender. Over time, he’s shifted the sleeping arrangements, and now you rest in his arms each night; about as close as one can get to being a lover without having the label.
A part of you is sure you could get it if you asked, but to you, it doesn’t matter much. At the end of each day, he comes home to you, and that’s what counts. You take care of the housework while he’s away (not that there’s ever much to do.) For as odd as he is, his living space is free of most things, —no trinkets unrelated to his work (which you are not keen on touching), and he’s meticulous about picking up after himself and keeping all his items in order, so your unofficial duties are few and far between. Otherwise, the rest boils down to cooking meals, washing clothes, and keeping yourself entertained while he’s away. . . Like some kind of glorified trophy wife.
And sure, this will probably get old eventually, but for now, this is what you’re working with. He likes to have you close and to know where you are, —to know that you’re safe and not out getting infected by anyone or anything. If you’re at his home, you’re safe from all the filth of the outside world, and heaven knows it’s so nice to come home and lie next to a body so utterly unmarred by the grime of society.
You’re sure once the virus has stilled, he’ll ease up.
But tonight is not that night. Lucian all but stumbles through the door, and you can hear his rapid breathing through the long, beak-like shape of his mask. He seems startled and frantic, and you rush over, a concerned expression crossing your features.
“Lucian? Are you alright?” You ask, reaching out to put a comforting hand on his shoulder.
In an instant, he snatches your wrist and grabs for the other, holding one in either hand. His grip is fervent, but far from painful, and you become more confused the longer he goes without explaining the state he’s found himself in.
“Lucian—”
“Darling,” he cuts you off, “you mustn’t get near the door.”
“Okay,” you nod in compliance, “but why?”
“The pestilence has taken hold of this city,” he replies. “The air out there, you wouldn’t believe the thickness of that putrid aroma. It’s suffocating.”
Before you can ask if there’s something you can do to quench his worries, he tugs you away from the entrance and into the bathroom. He removes his gloves and sets them aside, reaching down to begin running a warm bath. Then he looks to you, almost expectantly.
“Strip, please,” he encourages, —saying it like he’s desperate for the act, albeit not necessarily under the context you’d prefer of him.
“Lucian—”
“Darling,” he hisses, “please, do as I ask of you.”
His bare hands cup your cheeks.
“Please,” he repeats.
It’s hard to deny him when he asks like that and has been so good to you, and it’s not as if he’s asking for a lot. He’s just having a bad night, and if scrubbing yourself down will help ease his mind a bit, you’re willing to put in that sliver of extra effort for his sake.
Lucian sighs in relief as you begin to disrobe.
“Thank you,” he comments. “I really don’t have a clue what I’d do if you fell ill. . . I don’t think my heart could handle such a thing.”
You slip the last of your clothing off and step gingerly into the filling tub. It’s not long enough to stretch out in, so you bunch yourself up neatly to fit the space and look up at him once more.
“I feel fine,” you assure.
“I’m glad,” he replies. “Even so, it’s much better to air on the side of caution. The human body is a dangerously fickle thing, and it can be incredibly fragile. I’ve seen as much firsthand more times than I can count. In its infancy, this virus is little more than a common cold, but progresses into something fatal at a rapid pace.”
You simply nod as he kneels next to the tub, rolling his sleeves up.
“Your breathing is ragged, Lucian,” you state, “you should take that mask off and get some fresh air.”
“After,” he answers quickly.
He reaches for the half-used lavender soap bar and lathers it on his palms, then reaches out to smooth the suds over your arms and neck. His motions are a little rough and all too urgent. This is far from the first time he’s accompanied you for a bath, but it is the first time he’s ever done so and been this aggressive in his approach (if only as a result of his own anxiety.)
For the time being, he seems to avoid your breasts, instead reaching for one of your legs to hike it up out of the water. He repeats this process with the other, cleaning you until he seems satisfied. When he makes no move to revisit your chest, you take the soap from his hand and lather it yourself, placing it in its previous spot before leaning back slightly and allowing your hands to travel where you’d have liked for his to go.
Lucian watches but doesn’t touch. Your fingertips nudge at your nipples, feeling them harden under the minstrations, your bottom lip slipping between your teeth. If nothing else, he should be getting the hint by now.
Surprisingly, you’ve never had sex with him in all the months you’ve spent curled up in his arms, sleeping in his bed. He’s watched you take care of yourself on a number of occasions, has helped with his fingers another few times, —and allowed you to wrap your hand around him once a few weeks prior; but anything beyond that has seemed to be off limits. You’ve chalked it up to his shyness, or perhaps his distaste for human contact as a result of the pestilence; but tonight feels distinctly different.
Even in his previous state of frazzlement, Lucian seems all too content to sit back and watch you fondle your own breasts, soapy fingers clutching and releasing in tandem. You’ve always liked for him to watch you do things like this. Though his mask obscures the view of his face, you just know his eyes are trained on you, soaking up every movement, and you like to think he’s drooling at the way you grope yourself for his enjoyment (and for your own.)
“Lucian?” You prompt, half-lidded eyes glancing over to him.
His shoulders straighten as you say his name.
“You’re very beautiful,” he says, words almost too muffled by the mask to be made out.
“You think so?” You smirk a bit.
“I do.”
Ah, but that’s nothing new, and it’s nothing he hasn’t shared with you before. On the very night he took you in and washed your hair, he smoothed his gloved hands against your scalp and mumbled about how pretty you looked, even with dirt still caked on your skin. Even covered in filth from the alleyways you’d been sleeping in, he thought you were nothing less than stunning, —a real vision to behold, and he’s never skimped on such compliments.
You pause for a moment, reaching out to grasp for his hands. He allows the gesture, though he seems a bit confused, leaning in closer to the rim of the tub as you position him to your liking.
“Do you think I feel feverish?” You inquire, placing one of his hands on your neck and another on one of your breasts.
He makes no move to pull away, firming his grip up almost instantaneously, as if he’s been itching to feel you this way.
“Perhaps a bit warm,” he mumbles, taking a moment to roll your nipple between two nimble fingers, “but body temperature is known to rise during times of. . .” he trails off, clears his throat, then utters: “arousal.”
You trail your nails down his arm, letting your head tip back again. His hands are a bit calloused, but they feel so good against your skin, and you let a few moans slip past your lips. It’s not often he touches you like this without his gloves on, but the flesh-on-flesh contact is electrifying.
“Not to worry you, but I do feel a bit strange,” you huff slightly.
Through the slightly tinted bath water, Lucian can still watch your hand as it travels between your thighs.
“I’m just a throbbing mess,” you hum, giving him a pointed stare; “but you’ll take care of me. . . Right, Doctor?”
It may just be your imagination, but you could swear you heard his breathing shudder at that request. You’ve never been this forward with him, but something apart from the facial expression that’s still hidden away tells you that he likes where this is going. His fingers clamp down on the column of your throat, squeezing just enough to make taking in air a bit more of a struggle, but not anywhere near hard enough to be fatal.
The bit about being a throbbing mess was by no means an exaggeration on your part, so you take matters into your own fingers for the time being, drawing circles on your clit beneath the water.
“Of course,” he finally finds the voice to agree, “—I’d do anything to keep you from feeling unwell.”
That is what you like to hear.
“Anything?”
“Anything.” 
His grip tightens on your throat again, for emphasis, and with that, he seems to come slightly undone.
“Darling, that’s why I’ve demanded you stay here in my home, —our home. It’s safe here, free of contaminants and filth and anything that could cause you harm,” he says, the words spilling out like he’s been holding them back since he first set his sights on you.
“The world outside is ill, not just this rotten city. I’m working tirelessly to combat this pestilence, but as things stand now, the safest place you can be is here. With me. You understand that, my love. . . Don’t you?”
You’re only half listening, but you nod in agreement anyway. Whatever he’s saying, you trust his opinion on the matter.
“Of course,” you gasp, almost slipping a finger inside yourself to the tune of his melodic voice.
“I knew you would,” he continues, loosening the grip on your neck again. “You know I only want what’s best for you, that everything I do is to ensure your safety, —to eliminate the possibility of you ever falling sick.”
“Of course,” you repeat, head growing cloudier by the minute. “You’ve always taken such good care of me, right from the very beginning.”
God, he’s so elated that you’re seeing things his way. The way this makes him feel is almost too much to handle.
“I try so hard, darling, I truly do,” he says, both hands coming up to cup your cheeks.
“Please, Lucian,” you mumble desperately, “I need you tonight.”
He complies, shedding his long coat and draping it over your shoulders once you’ve stepped out of the tub. The chill of the air against your wet skin leaves your nipples hard and sensitive, and as he leads you to the bedroom, you hope he realizes just what it is you’re asking for. His fingers are a plentiful start, and you just know they’ll feel so good stuffed inside you, curling to hit all the right places, —but they’re nothing compared to the cock he’s stingily hidden away for all this time.
Tonight, you want him in all his glory in the glow of the lanterns on the walls. You want to strip him bare and gag on the length between his thighs, feel him twitch against the roof of your mouth, tease every vein that runs up his shaft. It’s not enough to grind against him while you’re half asleep or hump his clothed thigh until you’ve left his pants damp and your pussy sopping, just begging to be fucked by this man who might just love you more than he could ever fear any virus that lurks outside these walls.
“Don’t fret,” he tells you, though it sounds more like a command than a gesture to soothe any worries, “just lie back. I’ll be sure to give you. . . A proper examination.”
You could cum just hearing that.
With half your body pressed against the headboard and his coat nearly slipping off your body completely, he sets to work in his underclothes and mask. It’s by no means an uncommon sight, but there’s something distinct about him this late evening; the way his black attire contrasts so beautifully with the stark paleness of his skin and the mystery it shrouds him in that you’re just dying to sink your teeth into. Everything hidden beneath that cautious wardrobe and that long mask. . . You’ve gotta have it. It’s a necessity.
His fingers, ungloved, begin softly with your calves, tracing senseless lines.
“I’m not so fragile,” you remind him.
For as oblivious as he can be, Lucian takes the hint, and by the time he’s reached your thighs, he’s content to give them the same treatment as your throat.
The way he splits you apart is almost painfully clinical, a thumb on either side of your lips, peering through the eye holes of his mask to admire the way your folds glisten in the orange lantern light. A few prodding strokes leave you biting your lip again, body waning in anticipation for the moment he finally turns his hand over and sinks the longest of his fingers inside you, —slowly, but deliberately. It’s impossible to see his expression, but you hope his mouth hangs open a little at the way your cunt suckles on his finger, encouraging him to prod more and maybe stuff another few inside for you to grind against.
There’s something about the warmth of his fingers that gets you off almost in equal amounts to the way he moves. Another finger inside, and you whine, halfway to an orgasm from this alone.
He’s not particulary rough in his execution, but there’s a clean meticulousness in every movement that leaves every cell in your body craving more, begging for anything he can offer. Months upon months of wanting, of dropping hints, of hoping he’d catch on and finally see things your way, —and at last, you’ve made it. And now that you’re here, you’re content to simply lie still and let him have his way with you.
“Please don’t stop,” you beg, nearly choking on the words when the tips of his fingers brush just the right spot.
“Before you’re satisfied?” He sits forward a bit, resting his free hand on your stomach to press you down onto the bed. “Darling, I couldn’t fathom it.”
You will your upper body forward, grabbing for the hand on your stomach to move it up to your throat. He squeezes, scissoring the fingers inside you, watching closely as your body shakes and your eyes roll back a bit in ecstasy.
“I’ve tried,” he says to you suddenly. “I’ve tried so desperately to be gentle with you.”
You smile.
“I appreciate that,” you answer. “But I don’t want you to be gentle at the moment.”
“That’s a dangerous request, my love,” he warns.
God, you hope so.
You reach forward and grab at the beak of his mask, pulling it upward gently until it begins to slip off and reveal the handsome face underneath. Dark hair, dark eyes, but skin almost pale enough to be sickly, you meet his gaze just long enough to ask for permission, then lean in to kiss him on the mouth. It’s the first time, and it’s electric. He’s avoided this for months, —avoided your mouth, your unspoken pleas, all the passes you made for the sake of keeping himself at bay. But here you are now with two of his fingers stuffed inside you, his hand on your throat, and your lips slotted against his own.
“Please,” you murmur, fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt.
And you can feel the restraints of his mind come unwound.
He’s no longer gentle in the way he fucks you silly with his fingers, hammering them over and over and over again into that delicious spot buried deep inside you, squeezing your throat hard enough to cut your breathing off. The way your pussy spasms as you cum is blissful, and he loves the way your arousal soaks his digits, loves the way your back arches, soundless moans spilling forth as he makes you orgasm.
“I fucking tried,” he says again.
It’s almost manic, so desperate and sort of pathetic in the kind of way that turns you on. This is the first time you’ve ever heard him curse, and it dawns on you that even the filthiest of words sound so unendingly elegant when they’re spoken by Lucian.
“I tried to be gentle. I tried to keep you safe here, —to shelter you from whatever forsaken wasteland remains out there,” he insists, his fingers still buried in your twitching cunt. “I just wanted to protect you.”
He lightens the grip on your throat as you lean in to kiss him again, cupping his face in your hands.
“You have,” you assure him.
“You take such good care of me, Lucian,” you mumble into his ear. “Let me show you how grateful I am.”
The fingers stuffed inside you slowly slip out, and reach for his hand, guiding them to your lips, taking his digits into your mouth to taste yourself on them. He watches with hunger and interest as you clean him with your tongue. He leans in to kiss you to get a taste of it himself, grasping your hair near the scalp and taking a fistful hard enough to make you gasp.
“I can’t let you leave,” he murmurs. “It’s not safe out there. When this pestilence has been subdued, I’ll do this all correctly. We can start from the beginning, and I’ll be a gentleman.”
“I look forward to it,” you answer softly.
“You’ll stay until then?” He inquires.
He’s clearly overreacting, but it’s hard to care when you just want him inside you. Lucian has seen death day in and day out, —so it’s no wonder it feels like it permeates everything around him. He just doesn’t want you to suffer such a fate, and you’re confident that you won’t, as long as he’s yours.
“Of course I will,” you answer.
It’s like something primal takes over. Suddenly his lips are on yours in a bruising kiss, and his hands are grasping roughly at your breasts, pushing you down onto the bed as he crawls between your legs. He pauses, hovering just above your dripping cunt, turning his head to sink his teeth into the meat of your thigh. It makes you squeal a bit, and he kisses the teethmarks he left behind as if in apology.
You can’t help but wonder how long he’s been yearning for this. It’s like every part of him is thrumming from the thrill of it all, and this man who has previously refused to even kiss you on the mouth is now stationed exactly where you want him, tongue lolling out to lick a solid stripe up your folds. He laps like a man starved, then spreads you apart with his thumbs to suck your clit mercilessly.
It’s good enough to make your vision go blurry, and you can’t seem to form proper words through the haze. Desperately, your fingers claw at the sheets of this mattress, and he moans against your hot cunt, sending a vibration rippling through your core that makes your back arch on instinct. You mumble something that comes out like gibberish, pussy convulsing against the flat of his tongue.
His arm comes round to press your hips down, forcing you to be still. It’s the kind of toruture you’re sure you’ll learn to live for. There’s only so much you can wriggle under his arm, which has a surprising amount of force despite his rather lanky stature.
From what little friction you manage as you attempt to grind against his tongue, you tip yourself over the edge and as the knot in your stomach unties for the second time tonight, he continues licking, lapping at the juices that spill forth.
He stands and reaches for the top button of his shirt, not bothering to wipe his face, chin and lips glistening with your aftermath. You watch him undress with lustful eyes, propping yourself up on your elbow, then slinking back against the headboard once again, resting your weary body against it. The quiver of your thighs doesn’t stop you from nudging at your swollen clit.
“I wanted to be a gentleman,” he comments, untucking the shirt from his pants and pulling the front open.
It’s not skin you haven’t seen before. In fact, you’ve seen every inch of him at one point or another; just never all at once, and now, you’re waiting with bated breath to see him completely exposed for your eyes only.
“I truly did. I wanted to give you comfort and security, —to love you as you deserve. And I knew from the moment I saw you that only I could give you exactly what you’ve always needed.”
You hum in acknowledgement as he continues to strip himself bare.
“But it’s so clear to me now that I’ve neglected you,” he continues. “This beautifully desperate display is all a result of my negligence. . . I failed to realize just how much you needed me like this. How much you needed the touch of a man. . .”
He sounds apologetic, but your eyes are fixated on his half-hard cock. The last time you saw it, he asked that you keep your mouth away; insisting it wasn’t sanitary to use it for such purposes, terrified that you might contract some sort of illness if you sucked his dick for the sheer enjoyment of doing so. This time, however, you have a feeling you’re well past that.
To test the waters, you let your hand fall away from your cunt, slipping off the side of the bed to kneel before him. He gazes down at you as you open your lips and let your tongue fall out, encouraging him to make what he will of it.
“My love,” he says, placing four fingers under your chin to rest his thumb against your tongue for a moment, “—I’ll make everything up to you. . .”
His free hand pumps his cock once, twice, thrice, —then he places it gently on the flat of your tongue, letting you feel the weight and the warmth of it. He sighs.
“Darling,” he groans, “ah. . .”
It takes very little for him to come close to cumming in your mouth, just a few minutes of sucking him off, listening to him moan, feeling him quiver at your touch. You hum with his member stuffed down your throat, and he cants his hips reflexively, an orgasm bubbling up beneath his skin.
Your non-dominant hand holds his cock steady while the other is stuck between your thighs, rubbing furiously at your clit, making you whimper along his shaft. When he notices, Lucian finds that wholly unacceptable and snatches you up to position you on the edge of the bed, relieving the pressure on your aching knees. You weren’t down there for long, but kneeling was hardly comfortable on the hard floor.
He spreads your thighs apart and smacks the pads of his fingers against your slit.
Whatever he’s doing, you’re sure you’ll enjoy it to the fullest, so you occupy yourself with his cock again from this new angle, bending awkwardly to mouth at the reddened tip. His fingers find their way inside you once more, working their delicate magic, brushing against all the right places. At this point, you’re more desperate for his dick to slip inside you like this, but you take what he offers in stride (and more of him into your mouth in the process.)
He’s vocal, and that’s utterly divine. His gravely moans and the pump of his fingers leave you cumming for a third time before his first orgasm arises, depositing a sizable amount of his seed into your mouth.
“I love you,” he huffs, —and if he were anyone else, you’d be certain it was just the oral sex talking, but no. . . Lucian wouldn’t have said it if he didn’t mean it.
Of course, he’s made similar confessions over the months, and has certainly treated you like it long before he ever expressed it so directly, but still. . . It feels nice to hear it, if nothing else.
“I love you too,” you answer honestly, urging him closer with your arms wrapped around his neck. “I’m yours tonight, completely. . . If you’ll have me. . .”
“Oh, darling, don’t be foolish,” he remarks, kissing you deeply. “You’ve been mine since the moment we met.”
Your back to the cool sheets, he lingers over you now, his shadow looming over you so monstrously. There’s a stark flush of red on his face that has begun to spread down the length of his neck, and one of his hands finds its way to your breasts as the other smoothes across your thigh. The head of his cock kisses your sopping entrance, sending a series of chills from the top of your spine to the bottom.
His breath on your neck makes your chest tighten, and he finds your lips with his own again as he sinks inside you, filling you up.
“Lucian,” you whimper, helpless to his touch as he pauses, buried down to the hilt inside your cunt.
He presses a few gentle kisses to your throat, murmuring something about how nice it feels to be stuffed inside you. He feels your nails dig into his shoulders as you adjust to his intrusion.
“You must understand by now,” he says, mumbling the words right next to your bitten earlobe. “Everything I do is for you.”
“I do,” you gasp slightly. 
As he begins to move, your walls clench around him, and he exhales deeply against the junction of your neck and shoulder. You roll your hips to match his pace, but as he goes faster, that becomes fruitless. Eventually, you resign yourself to the fate of lying there against the pillows, speared on his cock, him making a mess of you as you moan uncontrollably.
This was everything you’d been hoping for and then some, like some erotic dream come to life. Lucian’s lips travel where they please, —stopping to peck at your jaw, then to suck on your throat. Your breathing is haggard, and he smooths a hand down your side, resting it against your hip for a moment.
“Just a little more,” he whispers, as if to be reassuring.
“Just look how stunning you are, angel,” he murmurs, “how pretty you look like this.”
He kisses you once more.
“You take this so well, like your body was made for me.”
You’re delirious enough to believe that might be the case.
His cock pounds a little harder, and he hits the perfect spot, tearing a desperate yelp from your throat. You’re overstimulated and weak, but your high is itching just under your skin, and you couldn’t bear to see it disappear.
“Please,” you whimper to him, completely at his mercy, “—please, I’m so close.”
He loves the desperation that clings to your voice. The hand on your hip travels to your clit, pressing roughly against the abused little button, making you jerk slightly. He rubs a few heavy circles against it, and you come undone, cunt spasming around his cock as he chases his own release inside you.
Lucian is sloppy near the end, which may just be the only time you’ve ever known him to not be perfectly calculated and precise. His breath hits your neck again, over and over as he huffs through the hunt, finally sinking his teeth in when he comes to a finish. His cum sits hot inside your cunt, and he catches his breath for a moment, head resting against your throat.
“I apologize,” he utters. “I hope that wasn’t too much for you.”
You exhale slowly, his cock still buried in your heat.
“Don’t apologize,” you murmur, “I enjoyed myself.”
You feel him smile against your neck.
“I’m glad, darling.”
For the first time, he sleeps next to you without clothing, letting you touch every part of him, tangling your limbs together. Your face buried in the crook of his neck, breath fanning softly against him, as close to sleep as you can manage without tumbling over the precipice, Lucian reaches for his long coat and drapes it over your body, holding you closer.
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mommymilkerssociety · 3 months
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im doing this research task for uni and I was thinking, what if yan!professor had like this vendetta against you and your short skirts and your cropped tops and your whore makeup that make you look so fuckable. he calls you to his office after every class to talk about your appearance and why it isn't appropriate for a place of higher learning, but each time you get called you dress in even shorter skirts that show your underwear slightly. he just gets so fed up with you that he dicks you down on his desk, throwing all the papers he was grading before on the floor.
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mommymilkerssociety · 3 months
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guys I've been thinking long and hard about a siren dragging me down to the depths and taking me into an underwater cave with an air pocket and keeping me there, keeping me safe, keeping me fed and full of them.
they would fuck me raw, day in and day out, not that id know what time it is. I would be their servant, their slave for the rest of my pitiful life
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mommymilkerssociety · 5 months
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I'm sorry i wasn't active for a while, life kinda just got to me I guess, but I'll try to post more regularly from now on. also if you have anything specific you want to see, just yell ig
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mommymilkerssociety · 6 months
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i feel like cassiel (yan angel) would go absolutely feral for anyone with huge tits. he's a tit man and absolutely revels in it. sees a man with huge tits? chomping on them before the day is done. sees a woman with huge tits? gonna suck in them till milk comes out and she's squirming underneath. he absolutely loves seeing the swollen puffy buds after he's had his fill and he gets so hard and leaky while he's doing it. he can cum buckets from just sucking on titties
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mommymilkerssociety · 6 months
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good soup
I will turn this into a full fic eventually. I need to turn this into a full fic. Monster darling fears their hubby, Evan, is losing interest in them when he befriends a new intern. He still treats them the same and swears his love and loyalty daily, but they just don't like how close he's getting with that person. They talk about things a creature like themself wouldn't enjoy/understand and monster darling starts to think maybe they aren't human enough for him. They start to act against their natural habits and trying to present more human which upsets their husband greatly, but he never presses the matter as they insist its what they want to do.
Monster Darling comes home after picking up groceries one day to find clothing flung around the living room and odd noises coming from the basement. They descend the steps and open the door discover their shirtless husband covered in blood with bonesaw in hand. He would've liked to keep his clothing on before butchering his workmate, but remembered the shirt and tie he had on were a gift from his wonderful spouse. He's so sorry he made them feel neglected- he just wanted to cook them a surprise meal with their favorite cut of meat and- wait... were they jealous? Evan would never cheat on his saving grace and is almost hurt they'd even imagine he'd be unfaithful.....but that look in their eyes when they vent their frustrations.. It does something to him. He's never seen them so heated. So needy and possessive. They're almost as obsessed with him as he is with them and that's all the man could ask for in life.
Evan decides he needs his darling monster right then and there on the bloodstained basement floor. Monster Darling is glad to have their hubby's full attention again, but as they're about to get frisky they realize Evan's workmate is gravely wounded - but they aren't dead.
"Ahh...ahh..."
"Hm? What's wrong, hun? Gonna need to hear words."
"Evan... They're still...."
"Mmm... does that really bother you? You were just telling me a minute ago about how much you hated seeing them all over me... They'll get to watch me prove just how much I love you and only you before they go... - doesn't that make you feel better?"
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mommymilkerssociety · 6 months
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Guardian Angel!Yan: What are you doing??
Bimbo reader with huge milk-filled tits: *pumping her milk into a bag to sell to gym rats* nothing much, just helping poor people in need
Guardian Angel!Yan: *mouth open and groveling* im poor and in need, help me
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mommymilkerssociety · 6 months
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If you can please donate <3
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child relief fund
jhco
 unrwa
middle eastern child alliance
hospitals in palestine
reblogs > likes
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mommymilkerssociety · 7 months
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Ϻʘɱɱ𐒦 Ϻᴉ乚ᶄҼꞅ⳽ ꗟʘcᴉҼե𐒦 Ϻล⳽եҼꞅ乚ᴉ⳽ե
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𝙡ɱลՑᴉกҼ⳽ ลกԂ ĐꞅลꙎꙎ乚Ҽ⳽
Sadist!reader and Masochist!Yandere
Human!reader and Alien!yandere
Yandere Best friend
Creep!yandere
Demon Husband
Cannibal!yandere - Amir
𝙡 ഡᴉ乚乚 ꙎҼ ᥩꝑԂลեᴉกՑ ล⳽ ഡҼ Ցʘ ꝑ乚Ҽล⳽Ҽ եҼ乚乚 ɱҼ ᴉբ եꚔҼ 乚ᴉกᶄ⳽ ลꞅҼ բลᥩ乚ե𐒦
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mommymilkerssociety · 7 months
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THIS HAS ME IN SUCH A CHOKEHOLD >﹏<
I love this so much. It's my fantasy
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imagine the yandere ghost learning he can play with your body through your clothes, no matter what you're wearing. with a bit of concentration, he can phase his hands through all the layers of your clothes, making cold contact with your skin directly.
nico doesn't care what you're doing– he doesn't care if there's someone else in the house. you are a drug he cannot get enough of– bringing you to new heights of pleasure whenever he gets the inkling becomes his favorite pastime.
he slips his hands over your hips when you're cooking, then slides up through your shirt to allow his hands to roam all over your chest. if you're sensitive here, he uses this to his advantage, his presence pressed firmly into your back and keeping you trapped against the counter as he plucks and swirls his fingers around your nipples.
cleaning? the perfect time for him to pin you to the wall, sliding his ghostly hands through your jeans to caress you, working you to the brink right then and there with talented, chilling fingers.
heaven forbid someone knocks on your door; a kindly neighbor or a mailman with a package. you'll have to speak to them while nico slips his fingers insider you, the ghostly form allowing him to slide right in. better hope they don't notice the way you involuntarily shudder as you rock back and forth from the force of him fucking you with his fingers.
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mommymilkerssociety · 7 months
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GUYS GUYS GUYS OMG 🤤
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mommymilkerssociety · 7 months
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I know this isn't what this blog is for but I really have to vent :(
I have this really huge platonic crush on this person (let's call them Alex) but they canceled our plans to hang out with other people and it makes me really sad because I really wanted to see them.
so for context, we've been friends for around three years and we met these people around the same time. I've never been close to them (the new friends) because I don't really mesh well with their sense of humor or interests but Alex got really close to them really fast. now the friends made plans for this Tuesday and I wasn't planning on going because I was busy and me and Alex had made plans for Wednesday.
now the friends moved the plans to Wednesday because not enough people were going and now Alex wants to cancel our plans because they want to hang out with their other friends and I don't really want to go to the big group outing because they make me feel excluded in a way if that makes sense, they don't really try to include me in conversations, even when I try to include myself they shut me down
I really like Alex but I don't think they consider my feelings in this (I haven't seen them in half a year and me and Alex made plans two months ago when the friends planned this outing this weekend) i don't really know how to explain my feelings to Alex because our relationship is based on humor and lightheartedness but i don't think they feel the same as me or put in as much effort in our relationship. i also don't have many friends outside of them, i have like two others but they're both pretty casual, talk when you see each other but nothing else.
i think i should branch out more but I'm pretty unsociable and awkward when talking to new people so i don't really know what to do ˙��˙ i don't know if i should bring it up to them because I'm scared they'll think I'm stupid
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mommymilkerssociety · 7 months
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Yandere cannibal that had his eye on the person who had just moved into the shady apartment complex.
Yandere cannibal who you meet by coincidence(?) in the elevator and it just so happens that you're neighbors
Yandere cannibal, the kind next-door neighbor that makes you meals when you're too busy with work to remember to eat.
Yandere cannibal who breaks into your house more than once to steal your dirty underwear to add flavor to his new recipes
Yandere cannibal who has come to be the only one you trust with your keys when you leave for a business
Yandere cannibal who leaves you little gifts littered around your apartment, like a finger joint in the potplant by the sliding door, or a small chunk of flesh in the back of your fridge, and when you call the police to report it, they magically vanish.
Youre starting to question everything you've ever known. You're seeing things that aren't there, that aren't explainable by any means. You feel as if your entire life is going to shit, and it all started with him.
Your lovely neighbor, Amir.
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mommymilkerssociety · 8 months
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Dog Hybrid Mall Security Darling - A pup found rummaging through trashcans one night during inspection and taken in for a position as a member of security, later becoming the unofficial mascot of the mall for their sweet personality and friendliness. They aren't the greatest at their job as they can easily be persuaded with snacks from the food court, but nobody cares to point out areas of improvement as their gentle giant can do no wrong - and how can anyone say they're doing a poor job when looking in those big, gorgeous eyes. Most robberies are stopped if they beg enough anyway, and if they aren't whimpering always seals the deal.
They're cared for by nearly every shop owner in the mall. Pet groomers tend to their fur and claws, making them presentable for the crowd and often trying to sneak collars on them. Food vendors always leave some of their stock on standby to reward their hard work when they drop by. Anxious/overworked retail works are always soothed when Reader squeezes behind their desks and lets them pet them.
It's not widespread knowledge, but Reader never leaves the property when others do. They sleep in the backrooms of stores that leave out beds for them or in one of the breakrooms. Not one person has a problem with this, but a select few always attempt to get them into their car when heading home. Reader is a loyal hound and refuses, but sometimes the thought of a forever home as many offer is pleasant fuel for their dreams
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Dog Security Reader: Please don't steal from our stores anymore :(
Yan Thief: ...
Dog Security Reader: 🥺
Yan Thief, dropping the thousands worth of stolen goods: ok.
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Yan: Wanna go for a ride, puppy? Come on, get in the van-
Dog Security Reader: Ride?! :D... wait... [looks at the board of shoplifters] That won't work on me again, I'm mall property. Shame on you!
Yan, under their breath: damn... almost had them..
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Yan: I'm completely stuffed and there's still one sausage of a stick left. Whatever shall I do?
[Dog Security Reader, sprinting from the third floor and the down escalator - mouth still full of treats they got from others]: Me! I can take it!
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mommymilkerssociety · 8 months
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My dream relationship
"You're so beautiful."
Pretty Yan: Thanks!
"I wish I could be half as cute as you-"
Pretty Yan: You're too kind-
Creep Reader: Your skin is nice... In the case of my mental collapse resulting in me murdering you in cold blood - I'll preserve your body for as long as possible
Pretty Yan: ....
Pretty Yan, red as a tomato: D-Darling! Don't flirt like that that with me in public! Oh, you always know what to say to make me blush~
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mommymilkerssociety · 8 months
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Guys i don't know what's wrong, I've been very unhorny lately, pls send thirsts or something
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mommymilkerssociety · 8 months
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Your Guardian Angel
Male Angel Yandere x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Extremely dubious consent, stalking, possessive yandere, jealous yandere, general yandere behavior, manipulative yandere, emotionally manipulated reader, reader dies nonviolently but the story continues with them in the afterlife, reader's boyfriend momentarily has cancer, religious themes and concepts, heaven, angel disguised as a demon, mild biting, soul claiming, heartbroken reader) Word Count: 2.5k (This was written within one late night/early morning writing session and was not beta read, I hope you all like it and I apologize for any errors.)
Not everyone receives a guardian angel, there are simply too many humans in the mortal plane to meet that type of demand. Instead guardian angels are allocated based on greatest need to those who might be most vulnerable to dark forces and to those with stronger souls who would be too dangerous if corrupted by the likes of a curse, demon, or vampire.
But you were one such soul. Perhaps the trials you had struggled through in life had left your spirit bruised and battered and dark entities were primed to take advantage.
Or perhaps the things you had experienced had strengthened your will and that was reflected on your soul, making it a tempting mark for corruption.
Either way it really didn’t matter, the result was the same. You had a guardian angel, Eriphel.
Eriphel was, relatively speaking, still somewhat new to the work of guarding humans. He had been at it for a few human generations. Which was very short, considering the immortal life span of an angel. He was one of the younger angels that had been created for this task.
He protected each charge he had with complete determination, always near his assignment, remaining unseen to the mortal realm despite being on a plane that overlapped with it.
When he started watching you when it became apparent in your early adulthood that you required a guardian the job was no different from any of the others that he had.
But… there was something about you that fascinated him. He hadn’t allowed himself to pay much attention to the personal details of his previous charges.
Eriphel didn’t know what was different about you but he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. No matter what you were doing he just had to drink it all in. Watching you do your job, watching you cook, watching you read, watching you do all your little human hobbies, watching you do anything filled his entire being with such foreign alien sensations.
His heart fluttered and his chest filled with warmth and longing. He even felt his pants tighten with arousal for the first time in his life. It was so euphoric… and torturous at the same time. The longer that he was around you the stronger all these sensations became.
After around a year it was no longer enough for Eriphel to merely watch you. To be only a passive observer as your life played before him like a movie he had no control over.
He started sleeping beside you in your bed, wrapping his wing around you protectively. Of course you didn’t know he was there, but your sleep did noticeably improve. No nightmares or insomnia, not on his watch.
Eriphel also developed a habit of hugging you at work, wrapping his arms around whenever you became upset or stressed. It helped your mood a lot.
The angel’s divine light was washing over your soul in these moments and even if you could not see him he knew he was the best thing for you. But he also knew that eventually you would pass away as all mortals did and your soul would slip through his fingers as it transcended to heaven.
He couldn’t allow that, he had to take ownership of your soul in the same way that demons did.
If he made a soul pact with you then he got ownership of your soul when you eventually moved on and then you would be his and his alone until the end of eternity.
But he didn’t have to rush it, you were not in any great danger and he could protect you and keep you alive from any external threat that could threaten you… even if it violated a few rules to intercept mundane physical threats.
He had plenty of time.
Or so he thought.
A bit of time passed and you met someone. A man by the name of Jason. A mutual friend had set the two of you up. You tried not to think too much of it at first, how could this tiny insignificant human have any possible influence on you when your souls had felt the holy embrace of an angel’s wings?
But as the days turned into weeks turned into many long months it became obvious you were in love with him.
Eriphel wouldn’t stand for it.
He had been with you for nearly two years by this point.
He knew your favorite color, he knew your favorite foods, he knew every single password that you had for every website, he knew what expression you had when you were deep in thought, when you were annoyed, when you were in the middle of an orgasm.
There was nothing he didn’t know about you.
As he stood before you in the dead silence of night watching your lover spoon you protectively tears rolled down his cheeks. He had never cried before, but he recognized the behavior from the humans he had watched over.
Something had to be done.
If he could just claim your soul then he wouldn’t need to worry about the relative tiny amount of time you spent in this world because you would spend eternity with him when you passed on.
Eriphel decided he would interact with you directly as you slept. He’d disguise himself as a demon and make a deal with you. Then you’d be his and everything would be alright. He was shaking with the sheer anxiety of what he was about to do, he had barely said anything to a human before and even then that was only with some who were deceased.
That night you had a vivid dream, it was so real. A demon came to you and made you a fabulous offer of wealth beyond imagining. You couldn’t remember what he wanted, but you felt the price was too high. You were scared. You turned him down and ran.
Eriphel should have known an offer of wealth wasn’t enough to gain what he wanted from you, still he thought it was worth a try. He knew you’d at least be tempted by all the good you could do with money.
When you next saw the monstrous demon in your dreams you remembered it even more clearly than you had before. You were in a pristine palace of obsidian and red, richly decadent but with an undeniably sinister undertone.
The demon spoke in a voice that sounded like several people talking in unison.
This time it offered to let your parents live longer, to give them pristine health for their age so that they could spend more time with you.
This time you were tempted, you hesitated. But after some consideration you still declined before fleeing. Your parents weren’t in bad health as far as you knew and them having a few extra years wasn’t worth the price of your soul until the end of time.
Eriphel was homing in on the solution, getting closer to the offer that would have you as his. But he wasn’t there yet…
A couple months passed and you and your beloved Jason moved in together. But tragedy struck as not long after that your boyfriend went to the doctor to get some worrying symptoms looked at.
Cancer. Inoperable brain tumor.
The news broke you, but you had to put on a strong face for Jason’s sake. He had always supported you and been the strong one when you needed him and now he needed you.
Jason fell asleep with his head on your chest as you held him in your arms. You made sure he was sound asleep before you let yourself cry silently.
It took a long time but finally the emotional toll of the day caught up with you and dragged you into sleep as well.
Once again you were in that clean, rich, sinister building of polished red and black. The horned demon standing before you again, terrible and proud.
“I can save him. I can cure him with a snap of my fingers. All you have to do is agree to hand over your soul after your death.”
You were shaky, you couldn’t think clearly after the events of the day, you wanted nothing more than for Jason to live the full life he deserved. If it meant you had to be a demon’s victim and tortured for eternity after your death then so be it, the years you had growing old with Jason were worth any price.
“Yes! Please! S-save him!!!”
He smiled and approached you, grabbing you by your clothing.
“Wh-what are you-”
“This is how a soul pact is sealed. You do want this deal don’t you?” You nodded and hung your head silently as he peeled off each article of clothing one by one. Suddenly you were in a different room, laying naked on your back with your legs propped up on the demon’s shoulders.
You knew he was a wicked and power hungry entity but the way he looked at you was almost like a human looking upon a holy relic. He took his time, shaking hands rubbing up and down every part of you.
This was not how a soul pact had to be sealed, but he couldn’t wait any longer to feel you.
The red skinned monstrosity kissed up your thighs, careful not to harm you with his horns. He was as gentle as a lamb.
When he finally got to the point where he was lining up his large cock with your hole he kept that same gentleness. You thought he’d have just ravaged you but he didn’t do that at all.
The demon slid his cock in you slowly, this wasn’t your physical body and no lube was needed, he glided deep inside you painlessly and moaned loudly as he did so.
Heaven was nothing compared to being inside his beloved darling who before today could have only dreamed of what it felt like inside of you.
As he slid his entire length in and out of you he bit at your chest, hungrily, but not very hard. Not enough to really hurt. Just enough to stimulate you and to taste your skin. He trailed up to your neck and licked, sucked, and kissed there over and over again like it was some drug he was hopelessly addicted to with no chance of quitting.
Your hands gripped the bed sheets feebly as he began to pick up speed. You felt a bit sick. You didn’t think that this would be pleasurable. You thought this would be as painful as he could make it, but it was so good. It made it feel like you were really cheating on Jason.
Even if this was probably just a stress induced dream your brain made to help you cope with devastating circumstances.
Eriphel couldn’t last long, being his first time and doing it with someone so supremely important.
His pace remained steady as his strong hands gripped your hips and pulled you close, slamming you down to his full nuts as he emptied them into you and the two of you shared a mind shattering orgasm. You could feel your very soul being claimed by his magical seed.
The demon kissed you passionately and then you and Jason both woke up to the sound of his phone ringing.
It was the doctor.
He was calling to explain that the machine was busted and was showing false tumors. He wanted Jason to come back in tomorrow for a scan on a different machine. He was probably okay.
The demon had kept up his end of the deal.
The two of you hadn’t slept long but now with the new test looming over the both of you neither of you could manage to go back to sleep.
When the time came the both of you got in the car with him driving and you in the passenger seat. Everything was fine and you both tried to calm yourselves and not get your hopes too high. Jason was likely okay, but there was always that small chance that he wasn’t.
You idly looked at the houses and trees as they passed when you saw movement from the rearview mirror. The demon hissing and lunging towards you. You screamed before everything went dark.
Doctors later examined your body and determined that you suffered a massive stroke. Not really what happened. Eriphel just couldn’t wait to have you, and he never said that he’d let you grow old with that… thing… you called Jason.
No, he said he’d cure him. And he had. It had been easy enough to reverse the magic he had used to give him cancer in the first place.
When you woke up you were in a large white room that looked like it was made out of marble, gold, and silver. The lights around the room looked to be carved out of pure milky white crystal.
You were confused. If you had died by the hands of that monster wouldn’t you be in the place you had seen in your dreams?
“Hello.”
You turned to see a tall lean man adorned in white robes, his hair was sparkling silver, he had a pair of great wings outstretched from his back, the feathers looked as if they had been dipped in the most thin and fragile layer of silver possible. His whole body glowed with a faint white light and his eyes were an otherworldly shade of shining gold.
“I understand you are confused. I am Eriphel, I am an angel that scours the mystic planes for demonic presence and eliminates it where I can. You were attached to a foul demon, a parasite of human misery. I noticed this just in time and snatched your soul at the moment of your death…”
You took in his words while staring transfixed at his beauty. You were really dead then. You introduced yourself and thanked him several times before calming yourself a bit and asking what you desperately needed to know.
“Is this heaven? Will I eventually be reunited with my boyfriend?”
Eriphel had to suppress a bit of rage that began mounting at that last inquiry.
“Sadly, your soul was marked by a demon, you can never enter the proper realm of heaven without being cast to hell, where that demonic entity would surely get you. But you are safe here, in my home. You will have to stay here… forever…”
His voice was mournful, and his eyes were wet with sympathy at your plight… or so you thought. Eriphel was really just crying because his fondest dream had come true. With no one else to interact with and his intimate knowledge of your every like and dislike you’d certainly fall in love with him.
The angel pulled you into a comforting hug as you sobbed into his chest at never being able to see Jason again, and he smiled wickedly as he rubbed your back. No one else would ever come between you again.
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