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aemondsvisenya · 5 months

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Following on from girl dad!Aemond, would you be able to do some smutty headcanons about girl-dad!Aemond and wife!reader? Like idk maybe how he is during the pregnancies or something? Or maybe just Aemond x pregnant!reader headcanons, either is good

DON’T WORRY ANON, I GOT YOU 😉

Warnings: as per the request, reader is AFAB; pregnancy, smut, 18+, I haven’t used pronouns as such but Aemond does call reader “wife”. This is just a really long post of Aemond being horny about a pregnant wife lmao I’m so sorry

Another Warning: This post is VERY long, I got very carried away. Happy Holidays! 😃🎄

Note: I’ve carried over the daughters from this headcanons post about Aemond being a girl-dad 😌

🔥 Girl-Dad!Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader - Smutty Headcanons 🔥

Let it be known that Prince Aemond Targaryen absolutely 100% has a breeding kink. The idea of you swelling with his child, growing round with his seed, everyone seeing the evidence of your intimacy and knowing you’re his, drives him absolutely insane and turns him on so bad

At first he tries (poorly) to keep it to himself that he’s imagining it, but one night when you’re riding him hard, drinking in the sharp beautiful angles of his face and the sound of his moans as his cock stretches you, it accidentally slips out of his mouth in a moment where his usually perfect self control falters

“Fuck, (Y/N)… want to put a baby inside of you so bad-“

Immediately you both pause, and you look down at him in thought, considering this idea. Meanwhile he looks horrified that he allowed himself to let that thought out, as if expecting you to be disgusted. To his surprise, you merely smile and lean over him, adjusting your position before beginning to ride him vigorously once more. Your mouth dips down near to his ear as he gasps in pleasure, and your voice is husky; “do it, husband - fill me with your seed”

He cums so hard that night that neither of you would have been surprised if you’d had twins nine months later

No matter what position you two are doing, you can see the way his eye burns with desire as he nears his finish, his thrusts growing animalistic as he growls before emptying himself inside of you with a groan of your name. It doesn’t matter if it’s a hard and fast fuck or a night where he’s taking his time worshipping you, you can see that he’s thinking about it, that he’s wondering when you’ll be with child - it’s not the only thing he wants, of course, he could quite happily make love to you for the rest of his life with no children to show for it, but it’s something he considers

It’s not really a shock when you fall pregnant within the first year of your marriage, let’s be real - the two of you are definitely a passionate couple

The night that you tell Aemond you’re with child, he is in disbelief at first and merely stares at you as if expecting it to be a joke of some kind - but then he’s striding forwards, taking you in his arms and kissing you hard on the mouth. The smile on his face as his hand presses to your still-flat abdomen makes your heart melt because it’s a smile of pure joy, of pure happiness, and you know that it’s been so rare in his life that he experiences such a feeling

Aemond absolutely worships you in bed that night, and it doesn’t escape your notice that he takes the time to tenderly brush his lips over where your baby will be growing, the love he has for his unborn child already overwhelming

Unlike his brother, he absolutely does not pursue pleasure in brothels, especially not when his wife is pregnant - why would he waste coin going to such a place to be with a stranger when his beloved wife is right there, the evidence of their coupling there for all to see? He’s loyal and dutiful to you, and proves it over and over

As you begin to swell with your first child, you can see how conflicted your husband is; you can tell he wants to be passionate in bed with you, wants to fuck you hard because the sight of you and your growing belly is driving him wild, but you know that he doesn’t wish to hurt the child either. You reassure him because you know that no matter how rough he may be in bed with you, he would never truly hurt you or the baby

Aemond is uncertain for a mere five minutes more - all his worries fly rather quickly out the window when you push him against the pillows of the bed so he’s sitting up, plant yourself on his cock and begin to move erratically as you chase your pleasure on him. Safe to say, both of you enjoy yourselves from that point onwards

As the months progress, he’s rather smugly pleased when your hormones mean your sex drive goes up - you both benefit from this particular change, and he takes great pleasure in teasing orgasm after orgasm out of you and your sensitive body

Aemond is DEFINITELY pleased by how your body changes; stomach growing round, breasts growing larger… you sadly mention one night that you understand if he doesn’t find you attractive like this, and he fumbles with the ties of his clothes out of shock because are you serious?!?

“You… you don’t find me disgusting?” You ask tentatively, nervous to know the truth. Aemond’s eye shines up at you as he presses kisses down your stomach, trailing lower and lower. “My love,” he mutters, his voice gravelly as he reaches the apex between your thighs, “How can I be anything but in awe of you?” Any self-consciousness is, frankly, driven out of the window as his tongue slips inside of you, enjoying his favourite meal

You and your husband debate as you get closer to your delivery date as to what gender the child might be. One night, after a number of rounds of coital bliss, you discuss it again. You’re not sure, and you secretly expect that Aemond would like a son - however, when he trails a large hand over your abdomen, feeling the child kicking within, he hums before smiling. “I think she’ll be a girl.” You raise a brow and ask why; Aemond continues to smile, telling you he’s not sure why he thinks that - he just has a feeling.

You have to wonder if Helaena isn’t the only person in the family who can predict things because a few weeks later, you deliver a healthy baby girl. You watch as Aemond cradles her carefully in his arms, gazing at her in wonder - he is already captivated by her, by the tufts of white blonde on her head so like his own, by how tiny her fingers and toes are, by the warm weight of her. His Visenya, he thinks to himself with pride, the name you two agreed on for a girl.

It takes a few months before you’re able to have sex again, at least according to the maesters’ orders - but while you pout and grow agitated, Aemond never says a word or complains even once. He’s just so thrilled that not only is his daughter perfect and healthy, but you are too - he thanks the gods every day for it. He won’t deny that he’s rather pleased when you are able to be intimate together again though - he may be a Targaryen, closer to God, but he is still a man after all

Again, you have to wonder if he’ll even want to be intimate with you because your body has changed, there are marks from where your body grew to accommodate the life that grew there, and you’ve heard that some men are repulsed by these changes. Aemond, however, kisses ever scar, every stretch mark, every inch that shows where his daughter came from - it is a wonderful reminder, he thinks, and he loves you all the more for it

You don’t want to fall pregnant immediately after, you both agree it would be sensible to wait at least a year first, but you’re sure as hell not giving up sex; there are ways to prevent it, after all, and so it’s not too much of a surprise that soon enough you’re enjoying a healthy sex life again. It’s some time after Visenya’s first nameday when you agree you have another child.

You’d once heard some of your ladies remark that with each attempt to get pregnant that followed, the act soon became rather boring - but they couldn’t have been more wrong in your case. It’s almost as if your husband is more determined to impregnate you this time around, like he’s desperate to see you with child again, and it fuels your own fire; it’s almost amusing how many scratches litter Aemond’s back, the small marks from where you have bitten down on his shoulder in the heat of your climax, and your own body is almost bruised by the intensity of Aemond’s kisses

Unsurprisingly, it does not take long at all for you to fall pregnant again

With each pregnancy that follows, he is attentive at all times to your needs - especially the ones in the bedroom. It’s almost embarrassing how your body, filled with hormonal changes, reacts to feeling his hand on your waist, the feel of him spooning behind you in the night as he wraps an arm securely around your belly - but your dear husband, it seems, is more than up for the challenge of keeping up with your increase in libido.

Aemond surprises you one night near the delivery of your second babe; he’s watching in awe as you gently ride on his lap, his fingers clutching your hips tightly and throat bobbing with every clench you give around his cock. “Gevie…” He murmurs, and the sound of the High Valyrian on his tongue makes you clench around him even tighter. “Avy jorrāelan, ñuhys ābrazȳrys…” You are not fluent in the language, but you know enough to know what he is saying: “beautiful. I love you, my wife”, and your eyes shine. And then he shudders, eyes shifting to your round abdomen with awe as his voice trembles; “Nyke jaelagon ziry iksos nykeā tȳne hāedar”. You don’t know what he says, and soon both of your climaxes take over; it is only afterwards, as he pulls you into his arms, that you ask what he said. Aemond looks surprisingly sheepish as he rests a hand on your bump, closing his eyes. “Mmm… I said that I hope it is another girl. Just like our Visenya.”

The Gods must favour him tremendously because shortly afterwards you deliver a second daughter, this one named Daenys, after Daenys the Dreamer, and he is just as smitten with her as he is with his firstborn.

Even as you rest and recover from the delivery, you hear the whispers begin to creep around the keep; two girls and no sons? It sounds like an omen, you hear the servants whisper when they think you’re asleep, you are not doing your duty to the Prince at all. Despite the joy you feel at having two healthy girls, a part of you feels guilty for not having a son. Perhaps, you tell yourself, the next will be a boy - after all, having two healthy daughters should mean there’s no issue delivering healthy sons

During each pregnancy that follows, your husband remains just as attentive, just as dutiful, just loyal - and he never falters his duties as a father either. You love seeing him with Visenya and Daenys as you watch one summer afternoon, silently praying to yourself that this child will be a son if only to quiet the rumours circulating that you are not doing your duties, that it’s a sign you are the wrong wife for the Prince.

When your third daughter, Naerys, arrives that autumn, you and Aemond both cry tears of joy - but he doesn’t realise that some of yours are guilt for wishing your child had been a boy, guilt for wishing she had been different, even for one moment.

The whispers grow louder, rumours begin to spread that your husband tires of your bed. It’s difficult to be too sad about it, however, given that you know the truth - you’re almost certain that the noises coming out of the chambers you share have scandalised the guards and maids around the keep more than strictly necessary.

You fall pregnant a fourth time very quickly; you try not to grin at the raised eyebrows the maesters gave you when you came to them displaying early pregnancy symptoms a mere four months onwards from giving birth. When you tell Aemond, he’s bemused and smirks as he takes you to bed to celebrate the exciting news.

When Aemond holds Jaenara when she’s born, he shows her to his oldest two daughters while his third merely babbles on her mother’s lap; it’s difficult to miss the pride on his face as he looks at all four of his girls, at you, at his family.

“You’re not tired of me yet?” You ask a few months later as your husband rolls on top of you, his eye dilated as filled with undisguised lust. He chuckles as he strips you of your nightclothes, his fingers tweaking your nipples gently, “Never, dear wife.”

“At the rate we’re going,” you whisper later that night as his cock stirs in interest against your leg, despite the two of you having had two rounds already, “We’re going to have more children than the Old King himself.” Aemond let’s out a laugh, cupping your cheek to pull you in for a kiss; his words brush against your lips, just as your breath catches in your throat; “is that a challenge, my love?”

Your fifth pregnancy starts much as the others - and then it doesn’t. The amount of blood spotting your sheets is small, but Aemond doesn’t waste any time, fetching the maester to come himself. He hovers anxiously as you’re examined, snapping at anyone who dares ask if he’d rather wait outside, all of his focus on you. You’re both relieved when the maester says that you and the child are both fine - however, he hesitantly adds that you need to be careful during this pregnancy, as it seems to be higher risk.

Aemond truly tries being celibate, not wanting to harm the child - but you’re having none of that, and soon he can’t stand it either. He is gentler than usual when he touches you, careful to never over exert you, always allowing you to find your pleasure first before allowing himself his own. It’s different, but not in a terrible way.

“Aemond,” you murmur one morning, and he shifts against you from behind; his hand presses against your stomach, but he makes a noise to show he’s listening. “What if… what if we can’t have more after this?” For a minute he is silent, and you wonder if he’s fallen asleep again - but then he sighs, his breath hot against the back of your neck. “Then the Gods will have blessed us with five children - if it’s their will, then so be it.”

You truly just want the child to be healthy, you truly do, but part of you can’t help but consider that it might be a boy this time; if this is the last time, then a son would quiet the whispers, would calm the wagging tongues in the keep.

It is nearly Yule when little Saera arrives, small but otherwise perfectly healthy after a long delivery. Aemond kisses her head and then kisses yours, and then hers all over again, thanking the gods for blessing him with five perfect daughters and for keeping you safe.

Once your husband finds out what the whispers have said about you, about his girls, he’s furious and grows more possessive of you - not in a terrible way, but you don’t miss the way that his hand constantly lingers on the small of your back, how his eye watches you constantly when you are across the room, how a clear hunger burns within him when he sees you with the girls you both brought into the world.

It goes both ways; it’s undeniable that the sight of Aemond with the girls - whether it’s teaching them the language of their ancestors, reading to them, helping them in the training yard, teaching them how to ride their dragons - is a huge turn on. There’s something about the sight of him being a good dad that just turns you on so bad, and you often all but pounce on him as soon as you’re both alone.

Even if making more babies isn’t necessarily the goal, it’s undeniable that the act itself is hugely enjoyable to you both

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #girl dad aemond #ewan mitchell #blame Ewan for being hot as fuck idk #asks #aemond targaryen smut

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kentopedia · 7 months

Text

♰ sent to destroy — dazai osamu

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ KINKTOBER NO. 5 - fallen angel!dazai

he promises he's not the devil, but he steals your soul with just a kiss.

contents. fem!reader, nsfw minors dni, takes place in 1920s for fun ig, actress!reader, alcohol, one mention of suicidal ideation and prostitution by reader, blasphemy, sacrilege, pls don't read this if ur religious & will get offended LMAO, angel fucking (& he has wings), bondage (thru powers), unprotected sex, cunnilingus, corruption kink, possessive sex, softish dazai, mm idk what else — 6.1k

note: i didn't edit this as thoroughly as i normally do so plss ignore any mistakes and i'll love you forever

the speakeasy fills with a thin veil of smoke, coating the room with an intoxicating mix of alcohol and nicotine. it’s a lewd place, full of degenerates and failed actresses like yourself, a crowd of people who don’t belong, but try their best to find a way to keep living.

it’s a place where women pick up their clients, leading them to the hotel around the corner for a night they certainly won’t be paid enough for. it’s where people drown their miseries in alcohol and hope they won’t wake up in the morning.

it is, regrettably, the only place you can afford.

you sit alone at one of the tables, hands shaky from nerves as you smoke another cigarette, contributing just as much to the cloud that suffocates the small room.

hoards of people make their way downtown for a sip of alcohol, the drink that has so ridiculously been banned, but you are no exception, no angel amongst the sinful devils.

someone plays a saxophone at the front of the bar, spinning into a graceful melody of jazz that sings out to you, lulls you into an embrace that warms your core. it soothes the anxiety that has lingered with you throughout the day, the reminder that your life is tailspinning.

you’d failed at landing yet another role, and the acting career you’d packed your bags and moved out for was plummeting. who would accept you now, now that your hopes and dreams had been for naught, now that you’d created a shameful woman of yourself and your family?

the answer was clear; but you were too stubborn too accept it, too desperate to believe that you could be up in the glimmering lights, the brightest silver star the world had ever seen.

you lean back in your chair, stamping out the cigarette with a sigh as you stand to collect another drink. there’s not much left in your pockets, but you’ve made it work before, and you’ll keep making it work now, scrounging up coins for the relief that came with forgetting.

the only consolation is the line of women that stand alongside you at the bar, as dejected and miserable as yourself. all of you have been labeled the failures of your families, the ones that bet on a shot in the dark. none of you expected that the road would be easy, certainly not with the way the industry is hasty to pick up only the most beautiful faces… but your ambitions had led you to believe that you, of all people, had had a chance.

you know your beauty is endless, a sight to be admired, but even that had not been enough to secure your spot in the limelight.

you thank the bartender as he hands you a drink, and slump back to your table, waiting for the effects of the alcohol to kick in. yet, when you stand at the edge of the table, peer at the chair you’d once been seated in, there is already a man there.

he gazes at you with a crooked smile, eyes amused as he regards your beaten-down state.

you’ve seen him before—made every attempt not to see him again. you know what they say about him. he’s a wizard, he’s the devil, he’s a god that steals the body of a mortal, waiting to destroy the earth. all bad things, certainly, and with the way your life’s been going, you’d be a fool to get mixed up with someone like him.

still…you know of the things he’s done for people. that miracles have happened for those brave enough to ask for them.

perhaps, you’re in need of a miracle.

the dark-haired man leans forward, eyebrows raised as you gawk at him from the other side of the table. “no need to look so frightened,” he says, gesturing towards the other chair. “sit.”

“i don’t want any company,” you say, straightening, pulling your drink closer to your chest. “i came here to be alone.”

his eyes flash, predatory, as if seeing down through the depths of your soul, to the very desire that lingers within. all of your dreams, your ambitions, and your loneliness are displayed to him, a flashing banner that alerts him easily of everything that’s ever been wrong with you.

“is that so?” he asks, leaning forward, his voice deepening amongst the chaos of the speakeasy. “then, why have you been staring at me all evening?”

you can’t help the flush that rushes to your cheek, the heat that covers your entire body. with the crowd of men and women alike that are constantly at his arm, you’d hardly thought he’d notice you.

and though you know what they say about him, he is undeniably beautiful; you’re drawn to him. there is a dark and heavenly beauty about him, something that you fear is too angelic to be of this world. his eyes glimmer almost like diamonds in the candlelit room, skin so flawless that it is nearly luminescent.

it’s no wonder, really, that you haven’t been able to peel your eyes off of him.

you circle around his question, instead, and set your drink down on the table, lured in either by a false sense of safety, or the confidence of his grin. “i know what you are,” you say, swallowing back the fear that devils often prey on.

he smiles, indulging you, a lifelong game he has surely played. “and what is that, my dear?”

the mocking tone sends a cold wave down your spine, even though the sweet name seems to warm you. “i don’t believe i should say it out loud.” you’re not sure what kind of consequence that will bring you. perhaps you do not need to make a deal with him for your soul to be damned, straight to the fiery pits; maybe this conversation is enough, and already, you are on the long list of sinners that will be sent to burn.

“because you believe i am the devil? a demon sent to prey upon you and your soul, drag you down to hell once the contract you’ve made is over?”

you say nothing, but your silence speaks loudly.

he sighs, leans back in the chair and looks at you from under thick lashes. “i have no interest in the dealings of those fifty, lesser beings. i find that i can bargain for more enjoyable ventures.” two dark eyes trace over you, swallow you whole as he grazes your curves with his irises, the shape of your breasts under the tightness of your dress, the style shorter to match the current fashions. “so, i think we both may have something the other is interested in. please,” he gestures once more to the seat in front of him, addressing you by your first name—one you never even had to tell him. “sit.”

nervous, you take the chair, wondering why you aren’t running away, screaming at everyone that there is a monster in your midst, a being that hunts the weak to lure them away from their misery. no wonder he has made himself a frequent customer at this place—there are people drowning in sorrows. one deal with him, and they will wake up in the morning, drowning in riches instead.

“what do you want from me?” you ask, letting your hands fall to your sides.

“so eager to get to the best part of my bargain, silly girl. have some patience.” he takes a sip of his own drink, pinning you with his gaze, even above the rim. you squirm under the intensity, but you, even now, can’t look away. “i know you’re struggling to find work. you’ve been here for years, and made pennies to live off of.” he reaches across the table, spins a lock of hair around his finger as he sighs dramatically. “such a shame, really. they must fear the power of your perfection if they refuse to let you shine brighter than the rest of the dull creatures that they call starlets.”

your heart drops, stutters within the delicate bones of your skeleton before starting again, as you remember that this is how the devil would act, luring you in with sweetly poisoned words full of deceit. “they are talented—”

“they are nothing,” he snarls, banging his fist on the table so loudly that you jump, hands shaking against the beaded skirt of your dress. “you may claim to believe in your own talents, your appearance, but it is all a lie, a facade that you maintain to protect yourself. you are the one holding yourself back, and unless you let me help you, you’ll get nowhere.”

you feel tears burn. “you mean to lure me away from the path of god—”

his eyes narrow. “i mean to free the human race from the chains that religion has bound on them. there is nothing for you in the afterlife but an existence of slavery. one to a malicious devil who only wishes to torment, or one to a god who doesn’t love you.”

it confuses you, the way he speaks of these beings as if he is not on the side of heaven or hell. as if there could be another option. it seems surreal, a secret that you should not have been told; since the day you were born, you have learned of the path of righteousness, the will of god.

that is the only way you can obtain a life of peace… yet, there is a creature before you, claiming to offer you a third path, one that doesn’t have you bowing down for a god that won’t answer your prayers.

it may be foolish, the work of the devil, but you are willing to listen. you are already lured in by this graceful creature with a charming smile and a quick tongue, and you don’t know if it will take much more for you to succumb to him completely.

already, you have lost your way—you would do anything to escape your unhappiness.

“what is it you’re after, then?” you ask, your voice softer, weaker than you anticipated.

he laughs, and lets his head tilt sideways, studies you before answering. “my father has cast me out of heaven; i plan to build my own religion of followers, tearing them away from that idiot of a being they call their god. because i am much stronger, much wiser, and the only way that they can find peace after their death is by trusting that i will give it to them.”

you swallow, twining your fingers together, and think. “you’re… an angel?”

he waves his hand. “a fallen one.”

there are things about the world that you do not understand, but you know that god has not once help you when you were drowning without a savior. he did not guide a helping a hand when you contemplated dragging a knife across your wrists, and yet, here is something, someone wanting to save you from just that. how is it that god can be more benevolent than those he casts out, when you have seen nothing but the opposite?

“you want me to join you, then?” you ask, drawing your eyebrows together. “if i join you, you’ll give me what i desire?”

“well… that is usually the bargain i offer. however,” he hums, eyes flashing as they scour your body. he looks at you hungrily, like he has never seen a being like yourself. “it has been a while since i’ve seen a human as beautiful as you.”

you swallow, blinking at him with wide eyes as you grow hot all over. this would not be the first time you’ve sold your body for fame, but never has it been with a man as stunning as the angel before you. “you mean… if i fuck you, you’ll give me whatever i want?”

he sniffs, repulsed by your suggestion. “always so lewd, you mortals.”

your eyebrows knit together. “but you said—”

“i don’t want you for one night. i want you forever. i want you to swear your body over to me for the rest of your life, let me use it as i wish, bear my children.” he traces your features, grazes a thumb over your jaw, your lip. his eyes are hard, and you swallow, wondering why your stomach flips. “you are meant to be mine.” he smiles, and though you can see the mischief within it, for some reason, there is also softness there as he crosses his arms over the counter. “but if you aren’t interested, then the deal is off the table. i have no need for someone who doesn’t want me in return.”

you blink back at him, observing the seriousness of his expression, the softness lurking within the pools of his deep brown eyes. perhaps he is a vengeful angel… but he is offering you a life that is much more promising than the one you have now. would it really be so bad to give yourself to him, to spend the rest of your life in his arms, when he promises to give you everything you’ve ever wished for?

“i—” you hesitate, unsure how to even begin to answer the question, when you didn’t quite understand what it was that he needed from you.

“i’ll give you some time to think about it. after all, it is a decision that will affect the rest of your life.” he stands to his feet, and it is then that you notice there are some eyes on you, the women he typically has hanging off of him watching your interaction with bated breath. “when you have an answer, just call for me. i’ll be there.”

“wait,” you say, turning in your chair to face him. “i don’t even know your name.”

“you can call me osamu.” he smiles and winks at you, tucking his jacket closer as he begins to walk away. “we’ll be in touch."

three weeks pass before you see him again.

you’d decided quickly what you would say to him, and after two weeks worth of auditions that led to nothing, drinking without a friend in the world, alone to rot in your bedroom, you’d made up your mind.

osamu’s proposal, now, after everything you’d suffered, seemed too good to be true. how long had you wished for a companion, for money, for a steady job—and now, these were all things he promised to provide you, if only you’d stand by his side.

you’d called to him at the start of the week, said a prayer to any angel named osamu that was out there—but no one came.

night after night, you said the same prayer, wondering, if perhaps, you’d been made a fool of. that everything he had said was a lie, and you, truly, were doomed to live an unhappy life. maybe, he was mocking you for your misfortunes, for your weak heart.

though, on the twenty-first day after your discussion, you awaken to a figure standing in the corner of your room, watching you with hawklike eyes, the shadow of a wingspan shaped out behind him.

you gasp, nearly letting out a scream as you scramble to a seated position in your bed, bringing the sheets up to your chest. the man is nothing more than a silhouette, so dark in the moonlight, but you know, without seeing his face, that he is the one you’ve been searching for.

“osamu,” you say, trying to quell the fear that has made a home in your chest. you gawk at him as he uncrosses his arms, sauntering over like he owns the place, like he’s been here before, knows the shape of your body, even under the sheets you hide within. “you heard my prayers.”

“i apologize for not coming faster,” he smiles in the darkness, teeth glimmering under beams of starlight. his face becomes visible then, and it steals your breath away—he is more stunning than you remember, skin nearly glowing, golden. “you were beginning to sound desperate.” osamu watches as your breathing evens out, your eyes flicking over his features. “is that still the case?”

he is a sight to behold sitting before you, the very essence of power seeping off of him in waves. a creature crafted from the hands of god, shaped to be the very thing that would protect the weaker creations.

osamu’s skin, his hair, every inch of him is without flaws, while you are but a sinful human girl who succumbs to each of her urges.

“i want—” you stop, realizing that you’re not sure what you want. to be an actress, yes, a famous starlet that is cherished by the masses. but, when you look at osamu, the soft, plump shape of his lips, the lean limbs that hide under his tailored coat, you wonder if fame, security, comfort—perhaps, those aren’t the only things you desire from this exchange. “i accept—”

“you sound uncertain,” he interrupts, eyebrows drawing together in a scowl. “you called me here, begged me to come steal you away, and now, you change your mind?”

“no!” you say, scrambling to grab his wrist as he starts to stand from the bed, his eyes flashing as you reach for him on all fours. “i’m not changing my mind. i want to be famous, i want to be yours.” you swallow, choking out the word as it turns your cheeks warm, the heat making its way up from your toes.

it hit you harder that you anticipated, the taste of belonging to another. you aren’t sure if its because you’ve craved the connection for so long that it’s twisting your insides, turning you into something desperate, or if, already, you feel an invisible string tying you and this stranger together.

“but?” osamu asks, still seeming like he’s about to flee, his eyes hard, blinking back at you. there is something about you that he wants, but he won’t take it, not unless you crave him just as much. it muddles your mind, confuses you—he could have anyone, could take anything. yet—

“but why do you want me?” you ask, releasing him to curl your fingers around the blanket. “i don’t understand.”

osamu balks, then laughs, his eyes crinkling as he regards you with some sort of gentleness. “perhaps i have always loved humans a little too much, much more than i should, at least.” he curls a piece of your hair around his finger, hums to himself. “innocent creatures that my father cursed with misery, blaming their own sinfulness against them.” osamu licks his lips, hungry as dark eyes cover your face. “but it’s not entirely your fault that you must bear the torment of generations. just as it is not my fault that i was born with a lust for something much more delicate than the creatures of heaven.”

he strokes your cheek, fingers grazing you like you are nothing more than a piece of glass, that you might shatter under the force of his power. perhaps you would—with too much, he might break you, turn you into a pile of ash with a snap of his finger.

“but there are millions of us to choose from,” you say, sweating under the blanket as your heart pounds in your chest. the breadth of his power becomes more obvious with every passing second, and yet, you crave a taste of it. “what makes me so special?”

he wraps a large palm around your jaw, thumb pulling at your lower lip. the tip of it dips into your mouth as you watch him with wide eyes, frozen, but not from fear. “i was meant to be your guardian angel, to be the guide that leads you away from the devil until your dying breath.” he moves closer, dipping his head towards your lips, brown irises never leaving your own. “and yet, the moment i laid eyes on you, i had already broken the first rule.”

you stumble over your syllables, whispering them breathlessly. “and what’s that?”

osamu smiles, muttering the words against your mouth, his voice ghosting over your skin. “angels are wired to protect those that we are assigned to,” he says, swiping his tongue against your lip, just barely kissing you, the sounds low and breathy. “we’re not supposed to want to fuck them.” a finger drags slowly, sensuously up your arm, and you can’t move, can’t do anything but watch as he pushes you, sinks you slowly into the bed. “i have never wanted anything as badly as i want you.”

you breath, in and out, slow, as the heat settles in your stomach, a burning pool of need churning there. it’s been so long—so long—since anyone has touched you in a way that is kind, has wanted to please you, instead of steal from you. “all that, just for me?” you ask cheekily, though you’re still not sure that he is telling the truth.

maybe he is the devil, but you no longer care. his voice is so sweet with praise and affirmation, bleeding into the softness of your heart.

he shrugs. “perhaps i was always meant to fall.” your head hits the pillow. you aren’t sure when he got you pinned on the bed. osamu looms over you with wide, burning eyes, licking his lips with an ache he doesn’t bother to hide.

“osamu,” you shudder, grabbing his bicep to steady yourself. it is too much, suddenly, all at once. you are filled with need for him, clawing at his skin as he commands complete control over you with nothing but his words. “i—”

your sentence is stolen away by a kiss, one that burns from your mouth all the way down to your toes. it twists something within you, turns you into a monstrous being that you had not realized you were, longing so recklessly to be touched.

his hands roam over your body, touch featherlight as he removes your dress, drags it slowly off your body, eyes grazing over every inch of your skin like he wants to devour your whole.

he makes a low sound in the back of his throat, fingers lightly dipping down your chest, between the swell of your breast to your ribcage. “how cruel of our father to keep us from such divine creatures,” he says, leaning down to kiss up your stomach, lick the skin around your breasts. “perhaps we are the ones that are truly being punished.”

you writhe under him, hands curling in his hair as his own dips between your thighs. grabbing his scalp hard, you yank him back up to your lips, and your eyes meet, both dark and dangerous as you brush your nose against his own. “you are punishing me right now.”

“is that so?” he laughs, eyes flashing with humor. “such a greedy, impatient little thing.” osamu slips out of his coat, his shirt, revealing the tent that has already grown in his slacks. they are the next to go, and his golden skin is revealed, the perfection of every line and angle of his body heavenly and refined. he leans down to whisper in your ear, breath ghosting the shell of it. “act like such a princess, but i know you want to be fucked until you can’t form a single thought, don’t you?” he says, and the coolness of his voice has you squeezing his shoulders, gasping out his name.

your skin burns, your chest burns, an ache gathering and settling deep in your stomach. your cunt throbs as you look at the angel before you, and he kisses down your neck, bites a hard bruise into your collarbone.

you whimper, wondering why you ever questioned going with him, when he could make you feel this good from nothing more than his hands on your skin.

“such pretty fucking tits.” he swirls his tongue around your hardened nipple, teasing the bud as you cry out loudly in the silent room. far too loudly for the thin walls, the cheap apartment. yet, you wonder if you care that your neighbors can hear the noises that come with your pleasure.

“that’s it,” he purrs, kissing down your stomach before his lips reach your hipbone, smiling into the sensitive skin there. “so quiet before… thought i was doing something wrong.”

“n-no,” you say, chest rising quickly as you watch him hover above your soaked cunt with anticipation. “feels good.”

osamu smiles, spreads your legs farther, so your dripping, aching hole is on display, embarrassingly, every inch of you vulnerable to him. “look at you,” he says, eyes hazy as he holds you tight, digs his fingers in your skin. “so fucking perfect. bet you taste as good as you look.”

there isn’t a moment for you to say a word—his head is already between your thighs, kissing your clit before sweeping his tongue through your folds, gathering up the wetness. a moan leaves his lips, and the vibration sends a wave of need through you as you squeeze his hair, force him back down on your cunt, nose dragging against your clit. “osamu, please.”

“ah, ah, ah,” he stops, licking his lips that are moist from your juices as his head lifts from between your thighs. a dark smile stretches across his features, calculating and cruel. “where are your manners, sweetheart? i don’t want you to cum too quickly.”

you’re not sure what he means until you feel your hands pinned to the bed by an invisible force, the power of the angelic creature before you, finally obvious. you can’t move, can’t even writhe against him, even as you try to thrust your hips forward, gain any sort of relief from the position.

he laughs at you, so pitiful at your desperation to be touched. “much better,” he says, and returns to lap at your cunt, tongue already stretching you as his fingers graze your thigh.

“s-samu,” you say, feeling the heavy pressure build down in your stomach. “want,” your cheeks grow hot, and you’re tingling with a need to touch him, but you can’t move. his pace is too steady, too slow. you’ve never wanted to scream more. “want your fingers. please, please.”

“please? such a good girl.” osamu grins against your pussy. the sound of his tongue slurping at your arousal is loud in the darkened space, and you clench around him, burning with need and shame. “you taste so good, too. better than any of the fucking shit in heaven. fuck.” he slips a finger in then, working at your clenching hole as his tongue curls around your clit, rubbing at the sensitive bud.

your words leave you in a cry, every muscle in your body aching. “please, i want to move. let me touch you, i want to, i—”

“i’m not letting you go that easy,” osamu says, and he pulls his mouth away, his face glistening, soaked. his fingers curl into you and you squeeze your eyes tight as he reaches deeper, to the second knuckle. “you’re so fucking worked up. bet you could cum at the sound of my voice alone.”

“i wanna, please, i’m so close—"

he laughs, looking up at you from under dark lashes. “already?” the sound is mocking, nothing about it soft as he kisses your inner thigh. he sees the desperation in your irises as you can do nothing but stare, unable to twitch a single muscle. “gonna cum all over my face?” he asks, and he’s back between your legs, tongue diving into you. “make a mess on me, sweetheart, wanna see that pretty face of yours when you cum.”

you don’t think you’ve every felt like this before, basked in the moonlight as the angelic man soaks his face with your desire, smiling at the sight of you so sinful. your heart hammers in your chest as you remember what you’ve promised him—that you would be his forever and, perhaps, this is what forever entails.

breathy moans leave you, and with each thrust of his tongue, you’re left with less words on your lips, less thoughts in your mind. “feels so good, you’re so good, osamu,” you babble, over and over.

osamu reaches the deep spot inside of you, and you squeeze him, clenching as you come on his fingers, cry out in the space of black room, nothing but the stars to guide you. you’re not sure you’ve ever come this fast before, not without the help of your own hands, but osamu just continues to lap at your cunt, drinking the juices and making lewd noises of pleasure at the taste of you. “mm,” he hums, “so fucking perfect.”

he fists his cock, already hard as his tongue swirls inside of you, and you lose any train of thought, too focused on the way he’s making you feel.

osamu is hard, leaking before he shifts onto his knees, rubbing his cock between your folds, gathering slick at the tip. “want my cock, baby? such a pretty thing deserves it, don’t you think?”

you nod, muttering syllables you don’t even understand. osamu teases you, drags his cock against your hole as he kisses your lips.

“use your words, sweetheart,” he smiles. his soaked fingers leave patterns of your own slick on your stomach.

you groan, eyelashes wet. “want your cock, ‘samu, please, wanna be stuffed so full,” you babble, and you can’t do anything but lay there, even though you want to touch him, want so badly to shift your hips into him. ��please, osamu, please,”

he makes a noise in the back of his throat, grinning as he plays with your nipple, lining himself against your dripping hole. “so fucking sweet for me, anyone would think you were the angel, wouldn’t they?” osamu asks, and then he sinks into you, slow, eyes careful as he searches for any pain in your features.

you blink up at him, making a soft noise as you writhe under your skin. “b-big,” you say, feeling him stretch your walls as he sinks further.

though his eyes are careful, he doesn’t bother to stop, each second dragging as he inches further into you. he laces his fingers with yours on the bed, grinning as dark hair falls into his eyes. “i think you can take it, can’t you? you’ve been sogood for me already.”

sucked into the coolness of his gaze, you don’t realize that he’s released you from whatever spell you’ve been trapped under, kept helpless on the bed. you gasp as he sinks into you completely, aching from a mix of discomfort and the deep need with you.

“too much,” you say, but he sinks further, deeper, and your walls clench around him, bringing a heavy groan out of both of you. “fuck, please, let me move, i—”

“i’m not stopping you,” he kisses you hard, sloppy as his saliva drags across your lips. there’s a possessiveness in the way he fucks you, dragging his mouth across your own, claiming you as his. “you take it so fucking well, angel, slipping right into this soaked pussy.”

his words take a moment to reach your disoriented mind, and when you try to move, you can, your hands flying to his shoulders to bring him closer. your whimpers are loud in the hollow room, and osamu loves the sound of you, drinking each little whisper in like a heavenly elixir.

“you’re so pretty,” he says, kissing across your forehead as you arch into him. “making you feel good, hm? so fucking innocent, and i’m ruining you.”

“mmm,” you force the sound out as osamu thrusts into you, hard against the mattress, his hips moving in a steady, fast rhythm. hair is sticking to his forehead with sweat, his brown eyes even darker in the midnight hour.

your fingers graze across his back, between his shoulder blades, and though your touch is featherlight, he freezes, stops immediately with a loud groan as he clamps his teeth down on your shoulder.

you breath in sync, your chests rising and falling together. “osamu?” you ask, staring up at him, his eyes pinched together tightly as he grits his teeth.

“sensitive,” he says, and his voice is hoarse. “fuck, i’ll cum on the spot if you touch me there.”

you blink, your haziness clearing as you let your hands fall to your sides. it takes you a moment to realize why he would curl away from your touch there, why he would—

“your wings?” you ask, and he drags his gaze back up to your’s, nodding, before dropping his head onto your collarbone. he exhales into your neck, resuming a slow, steady pace inside you. though, you place a hand on his chest, feel his erratic heartbeat. “can i see?”

“you don’t want to.”

you pinch your eyebrows together, but he shifts his hips, forces a cry out of you as you collapse back down against the mattress. “i do,” you argue, but he’s fucking you mercilessly, sensuous sounds echoing in the room as he attempts to distract you. “i want to.”

he’s about to deny your request, but you let out another soft please, batting your eyelashes so sweetly. your cheeks are flushed from the heat in the room, and, for some reason, he relents, bowing his head in some sort of remorse. slowly, his wings span out across the room.

you lose your breath for a moment as you stare at them, muddled from the feeling of him inside and the beautiful sight before you. the wings are thick, black and feathery, spanning the length of the room, casting a dark shadow over you. they’re strong and unwavering, with a sheen that could be seen only on a raven, the light turning the shades from a deep purple to green.

“oh,” you can’t mutter anything else as he drags his tip against the sensitive spot inside you. “oh, they’re so beautiful. fuck, osamu, i can’t—”

you can’t stop yourself from touching them, dragging a gentle touch against one of the feathers. osamu cries out, groans into your mouth as your walls clench around him, sweat dripping between you as your chest presses against his own.

“shit,” he says, forehead pressed to yours. “oh, i’m so close. gonna make me come, aren’t you, baby? squeezing me so fucking tight, touching me like that.”

his eyes are hazy, and, somehow, for some reason, he’s let you have control of the situation. he kisses your face, treats you with a gentleness you didn’t think he was capable of, his lips so warm against your skin.

the dark, heavy wings cage you in, falling over the two of you, and you run your fingers against them once more as you feel another orgasm creep upon you. your clit rubs against him, and your slick drips between the two of you, down your thighs as your breath catches in your throat.

for a moment, you revel in the feeling of him deep inside you, and you close your eyes, his feathered wings so soft under your palm, letting your pleasure overtake you.

though that is short-lived as osamu pinches your jaw.

“hey,” he says gruffly, “look at me. want to see those pretty eyes of yours when you cum.” and though his eyes are soft, delicate from the way you’re stroking his wings, he sounds so mean, so possessive. “gonna fuck all my cum inside you, cause you’re mine now.”

your fingers curl around the feathers, hard as you tug him down towards you. osamu moans deep into your mouth when you clench around him, your orgasm rolling over you again as you scream his name into the blackness of the room.

“such a good girl f’me, fuck, i—” he doesn’t finish his sentence, already filling your soaked pussy with his cum. it seeps deep inside of you, coating your walls white until he pulls out, lets his seed drip between the two of you.

osamu presses his fingers across your face, dragging the delicate touch around your jaw, your chin as you breath heavily, still awestruck by the creature before you. you’re exhausted, sleepy, eyes hazy as you regard him with stuttered breath.

but he doesn’t let you go, kissing you over and over again with flushed lips. “i know you can give me one more,” he says in a low voice, humming against your throat. “my perfect mortal girl. just one more, and i’ll give you whatever you want, got it, pretty?”

your body aches, sensitive and spent, but you don’t object when he slips another finger into, kissing you hard as he lets you touch his raven wingspan.

you’d always wanted to be an actress, anyways.

tags: @hannzai @cha0thicpisces @kissesmellow21 @sukiischaotic @hinata7346

OCTOBER MASTERLIST

957 notes · View notes

celestiababie · 11 months

Text

Cat Cam- W.JH

Pairings: camboy! Jun x gn! reader (kinda)

Genre: just pure smut ngl

Warnings: mild pet play, male masturbation, indirect mentions of other members, cum eating, use of petnames (prettyboy, baby, babyboy, kitten) reader's username is princesspeach so jun calls them princess at one point. tbh this is just jun jerking off..idk what else to add

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: Okay so, I meant to post this a while ago, but a lot was going on in my personal life. Sorry that it's so short...and I didn't edit it that much, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! Feedback is always appreciated, please don't be a silent reader!

"Oh! There's a package from sweet_tangerines. Thank you very much! The last item you sent ended up being my most viewed clip when I used it, so I have a good feeling about this one," Jun said as he waved the box to the camera.

Jun winks into the camera, causing an influx of horny messages to scroll by on his screen, and the tips he made sure to thank as he opened up the package set in his lap.

Truthfully this was what he loved most about his job, the attention. How he could do anything, and his viewers would eat it up graciously, leaving messages that made his ego (and something else) swell.

At first, it meant to be a side hustle, a way to dig him out of the student debt and bills he was suffocating in. His paychecks sure as hell weren't cutting it, and he needed an answer to his problems fast.

Really fast.

Luckily for Jun, his prayers were answered one fateful night while browsing his favorite pornsite, cock in hand. Yeah, he was struggling, but everyone deserves to make themselves feel good. And if he was paying for his phone not to get shut off, he might as well make good use of the wonders of the internet.

Usually skipping over the ads, he couldn't help but hover his finger over the button, tilting his head as a light bulb went off in his head as he watched a girl in the ad promote a cam website.

Jun never considered himself egotistical, but he was far from blind to his attractiveness. He had a handsome face, a body he worked hard for despite taking up extra shifts at his job, and a pretty cock, in his opinion. Who wouldn't want to watch him jerk off? He could do that for a few months, and all his problems would be solved.

And so he did, making an account and gaining traction pretty quickly due to his looks and how much he interacted with the audience.

A year later, he was still going live for his viewers, not just for the money, but because jerking off without thousands of eyes on him didn't do it for him anymore. He needs the attention to cum; the times he tried without left him only more sexually frustrated than before he began.

Another perk of the job was undoubtedly the gifts he received over the year, but with the package in his lap now opened, he was starting to question his audience's sanity.

Jun typically refrained from kink shaming, but a pair of cat ears? Really?

"Sweet_tangerines, I'm not sure what you expect me to do with this, but I'll put it on just for you," Jun shyly smiled into the camera before going off-screen, causing his viewers to start guessing what the item could be.

sweet_tangerines: he's gonna look so CUTE!!

dinonono: is it a thong? I'm betting on a thong

gyubear97: I don't know what it is but I want it to be a thong 💓

princesspeach: whatever it is, I know our baby boy will look so sexy

princesspeach tipped 500 coins!

Jun hears his tips go off from the corner of his room as he adjusts the cat eats on his head. A blush washed over him at the sound signifying a big tip, knowing exactly who it was.

His favorite reoccurring viewer was going to watch him pleasure himself dressed up in cat ears…

Jun took one last look in the mirror before making his way back to his desk, his head out of frame due to his height and hiding the surprise from everyone. Once he plopped down onto his chair, he was sure his computer was ready to crash with how fast the chat was moving.

His shyness slowly faded as he tried to keep up with the messages as much as possible.

"I see that you guys like the cat ears. We should all thank sweet_tangerines for this generous gift," his deep voice rang out to his audience, almost as if he was teasing them for enjoying this so much.

But truthfully, he was enjoying it just as much.

Maybe not the cat ears specifically, but all the attention he was receiving because of it sure had an effect, his cock straining against his jeans, a visible tent forming, which people quickly took note of.

princesspeach: the kitty is getting hard already. you haven't even touched yourself. you should show us, pretty boy.

Jun bit his lip as he caught your message in the sea of others, making eye contact with the camera knowing you were paying full attention to him.

His hand mindlessly starts rubbing his thigh, inching further up until he palms himself, squeezing the sides of his shaft through his jeans and giving some relief. His head tilts back in his chair, eyes closing as he basked in the fact thousands were watching him tease himself.

princesspeach: show us your pretty cock

princesspeach tipped 300 coins!

The sound of another big tip forces Jun's eyes open, reading out the message and thanking you for the tip as he stands up to shimmy out of his jeans.

He takes his sweet time taking off his underwear, the band of his boxers sliding along his cock before his full length slaps against his toned abdomen, another wave of messages causing his cock to twitch.

Sitting back down, he makes eye contact with his webcam again with his cock in his hand. He slowly begins to pleasure himself, feeling his veins pulse in his grip as he moves his hand up and down along his shaft.

"How was everyone's day? I hope all of you can lay down and relax with me," he practically purrs, his deep voice rumbling in his chest.

princesspeach: how’s your hand feel, kitten? your cock is leaking so much

“Fuck, it feels so good. I wish it was you around my cock instead, baby…” Jun’s eyes flutter at the sight of the nickname, his cock jolting in response, a bead of precum leaking out of the slit of his tip. He presses his finger against the sticky substance, pulling his finger away, causing a trail of his precum to follow his finger, glistening in the mood lighting in his bedroom, driving his viewers further into a state of desire.

His intense gaze captivates his audience through the camera as he brings his finger to his lips, his tongue darting out to lick his arousal off his fingertip before sliding two digits into his wet mouth, his tongue swirling around them as his other hand takes hold of his cock, jerking himself off faster this time around.

gyubear97: oh my fucking god this is so hot…i’m not gonna last

dinonono: me neither tbh, the cat ears are a nice touch

sweet_tangerines: shit, he always looks good

princesspeach: see how many people love seeing you jerk that pretty cock, kitten? I bet you love the attention

princesspeach: such a pretty slut for us

princesspeach: I’d love to stuff your cock in my mouth, make you cum down my throat

Jun can’t help but focus solely on your messages, the words flying by fast, but fueling his pleasure, getting closer and closer to his impending climax.

Jun takes a second to tug his shirt over his head, finally giving his viewers a good look at his stunning body, the mood lighting emphasizing the hills and valleys of his abs. He chuckles at the immediate response he receives while he readjusts the cat ears on his head that nearly fell off his head while removing his shirt.

He sits back in his chair, his right hand quickly moving back to his cock, his left one rubbing up and down his stomach before inching further up to tease at his nipples, moans slipping out of him as more precum leaks out of his cock, making it easier to fuck himself with hand.

At some point, Jun’s eyes close fully, losing himself to the pleasure as his head falls back on the headrest of his chair, his adam’s apple bobbing as he desperately tries to swallow his moans but fails miserably.

Almost anyone would agree that this was one of the most sinful sights they ever laid their eyes upon.

The man's body on full display, cute cat ears adorning his head despite his acts being anything but cute. How the perspiration on his body glistened as he got more worked up, the dark red flush of his cock as it leaked precum continuously, his cock glossy from his arousal and emphasizing every vein along his shaft.

princesspeach: babyboy gonna cum for us?

princesspeach tipped 300 coins!

princesspeach: cum for me baby

princesspeach: I'll cum with you

The notification sound of your tip forces his eyes to reopen, making the grave mistake of looking at the messages that followed.

Jun's hips stutter, fucking into his hand uncontrollably as he finally falls over the edge, his whole body burning hot as flashes of pleasure run through his body.

"T-thank you for the tip, p-princess," he moans out, thick globs of cum slipping out of his slit and onto his hand as he desperately tried to ride out his orgasm for as long as possible.

Once it felt like too much, he finally pulled his hand away from his softening cock, reveling in the light and blissful feeling he get when he had an intense orgasm. He pants heavily, taking a good couple of minutes to regain control of himself before he blinks up at the ceiling.

dinonono: damn, he came more than usual today

sweet_tangerines: i hope he uploads today's stream…i need to rewatch it

gyubear97: I already came twice…

Jun finally looks back into the camera, a subtle smirk across his lips as he raises his cum covered hand to his face to lick it off.

princesspeach: does the kitten like cleaning himself off? tastes good, doesn't it?

Jun chuckles softly at your comment as he licks off the remainder of his cum.

"I think it's time I wrap up this stream, guys. I had a lot of fun and hope all of you enjoyed yourselves as well. I'll do another stream in two days but don't worry! Tonight's stream will be posted to hold you over in the meantime. Have a good night, everyone!"

Jun winks into the camera before waving goodbye, his free hand moving to his desk to stop his stream.

He lets out a huff as he leans back in his chair, too lazy to get fully cleaned and dressed just yet, but the ringing of his phone from his bedside table forces him to get up out of his chair.

He rolls his eyes despite the blush on his face when he sees who's calling, taking a deep breath before sliding his thumb across to answer.

"Did you have to call me right after I closed the stream?"

"Oh shush, I'm only calling to ask if I should come over tomorrow since you won't be live."

Jun bites his lip at the offer, his mind thinking back to the times he's had you in his bed.

"You can come over, baby. I'll even wear the cat ears since you seemed to like them so much," he purrs into the phone.

"I'll hold you to that, kitten."

293 notes · View notes

iliketangerines · 2 months

Note

heyyy :p I rlly rlly loved the shang tsung work you did (same person who requested it hihi) it was amazing :3

Is it okay for me to request more just maybe this time what you think his kinks would be? I feel like he would be into corruption and predator/prey. Maybe also bondage.

Maybe also a hybrid reader? Like a cat or fox to make it 10x more spicy? 🤔 idk ur decision if you wanna add a bit of that into it

Sorry if I'm spamming you I just really love your writing 💔

sing for me pt. 2

a/n: i gotchu cutie, and omg you're so right about the corruption kink. i think he'd be an evil little bastard about it too

pairing: dom!shang tsung x hybrid cat!afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), spanking, blow jobs/deepthroating, choking, thigh riding, dacryphilia, degradation kink, slight breeding kink, aphrodisiacs, slight bondage, overstimulation, edging, predator/prey, slight corruption kink, sight exhibition kink

he loves to spank you and watch how his handprints paint your ass red, and he loves how you become nothing but a mess in his lap

he loves to watch you cry as he slaps your ass and fingers your drooling pussy, bringing you to the edge over and over again but denying you your release

he loves to tug on your tail as he spanks you, watching as your hips buck in his lap and how your tail thrashes around

he always has you on your knees, sucking and whining around his cock as he fucks into your face

he lets you grind into his shoe as he fucks your face, but sometimes for fun, he loves to just tie your hands behind your back and keeps your legs apart so you can’t rub your thighs together and cry even harder at the lack of friction on your needy clit

continuing on the spanking, he loves to mark you up in other places, hickeys on your neck and fingertip sized bruises on your hips

he loves to leave bite marks all over your body, your tits, your legs, your ass, anywhere he can bite really

anytime he can, he’s degrading you: telling you that you’re such a slut, how maybe if he whored out your body he could earn a few more coins

it never fails to make your little cat ears twitch and your tail sway in excitement even as you cry and whine pathetically

he loves to make you beg for it, and it never fails to make your ears flatten to your head and your face warm as you beg for him to please fuck you and your needy pussy

when he does fuck you, there’s only two positions for him: your hips are up in the air with your face in the ground or your legs hooked over his shoulders

when he fucks you from behind, he love to tug on your tail to feel your pussy clench around him and to hear your desperate moans for him to touch your clit

he loves to squeeze and swat at your ass as he fucks you behind

when he’s pressing his dick deep into you in a mating press, you can’t help but blabber about how you need him to fill you up like a good bitch

he always laughs, mocking the tears in your eyes and how drool pools at the corner of your mouth as you become nothing but a breeding bitch for him

when he’s in this position, he loves to choke you as well, watching as your eyes glaze over in submission and how he’s the one in control of you

and sometimes, he has you drink one of his potions, an aphrodisiac to make you horny and needy for him

those days he has you grind against his thigh, humping into him with tears in your eyes as he tugs on your tail and sucks hickeys onto your neck

your cunt would leave a mess on his pants, but he doesn’t mind when it’s you

after he’s finally brought into Sindel’s court and has money to spend on you, he buys you a collar with a bell and clips it to your neck

he loves to hear it ring as he fucks into you from behind: it’s a reminder that you belong to him and only him

he buys rope and chain, all sorts of toys to try on you, and he can’t help but coo at your wide eyes and quivering voice as you ask him what it’s for

he enjoys breaking you in, whipping you, tying you up and leaving toys inside of you to buzz inside of you and fuck you until you can’t think

he loves to watch you beg with a plug in your ass and a toy pressed into your clit while it fucks into your drooling cunt

he makes you walk around his fake laboratory with the toys inside of you, caning you when he’s seen you’ve left a mess on the floor with your wetness

if he catches you touching yourself, he ties your arms behind your back and edges you to no end, bringing you to the peak but never letting you teeter over

if he’s feeling particularly angry, he’ll smile at you and laugh as he strips you of your clothes and sends you into the woods

he lets you run and run, but he always catches up to you, unable to hide your sweet scent and the ringing of the bell on your collar

he’ll fuck you in the woods, pulling on your tail for a better grip as you moan in pain and pleasure

but, he always takes care of you afterward, rubbing your body with lotions and soaking you in hot bathes, paying extra attention to the fur on your ears and tail

one day, he’ll rule Outworld, and he’ll have you sit on his lap, legs spread and pretty pussy spread for the world as he fucks you in front of everyone

but that’s for another time

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lovelykhaleesiii · 5 months

Note

can i request being titus' basement wife, just kinda like soft dark yandere vibes, idk i trust you dawg 🤭🤭

Tough Love [Sequence #1]

HEADCANON

PAIRING: Soft!Yandere!Titus x fem!Reader

WORDS: 834.

WARNING: mentions of kidnapping, dark!Titus, toxic behaviour (possessiveness), reference to stockholm syndrome, power play, dominant!titus, praise kink.

A/N - thank you for this request, my dearest Bel! apologies for getting back to this so so late. hope you enjoy xox

At first, it would be a “tough love” type of situation: you deeply resented Titus for the misfortune he had brought upon you. He had spoiled you of your own independent life, solely for what you could only presume, was to pursue his own personal interests, and you resisted him for that.

On many occasions you tried desperately, despite all odds working against your favour, to escape. Sometimes configuring a plan, although most of the time you would wing the escape.

You were in his territory, however: heavily confined and chained to his will. The chances of succeeding were slim to nothing, and this was proven many times.

Anyone could’ve easily been fooled: despite his well-rounded and meekly approach, he had a darker demeanour about him that you had now known.

"Try that act again with me, and I won't be so lenient next time, Y/N."

He frightened you in those moments, to consider what a man of his strengths could be capable of, considering the strenuous lengths he went to, to have you all to himself.

Although, these moments would be sparred, for in a few short hours later, after Titus had some thought to process, he would return with an apologetic look, expressing his guilt towards you.

You noticed that he had greatly opposed the idea of hurting you: having no intention to harm you purposefully, only wishing for you to favour him, as he did with you.

He wanted to be loved, and you were the apple of his eye.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, my sweet thing. You shouldn't have done that. You should not have done that... Look at what you made me do, silly girl."

Whether he was profusely muttering to himself or you: you could not say with certainty.

Although, it showed a completely different, jarring side to him, it had blindsided you. He could and was often a kind and gentle soul. A man who took his time and effort to console you, and yet, step a foot over his line and he would remind you, exactly who was in charge.

Two-sides to the same coin.

The more Titus was around you, the more familiar you became, growing heavily reliant on him, it could potentially have been his efforts to persuade you to love him. Make you believe, he was all that you required, that he could satisfy you and only him.

He in return, grew comfortable as the feelings from your behalf, began to gradually show and reciprocate. Beginning as small mannerisms, a quiet exchange of “thank you” and “please”, or that you would wish him a good night, and return a smile.

He fed you well, always providing meals on a timely manner, with a vase of handpicked flowers. Bathing you, with decadent, alluring scents, clothing you with new, unworn apparel like some spoiled brat. He spoke to you and more so listened to you.

His treatment towards you was more so homily, than hostile. He stripped you of your life, of your identity for a reason, and it was only with time that he opened up.

He wanted to be loved, just like any other sane person, he wanted the mundane spoils of life: a white-picket fenced house and a family to call his very own.

"I wanted that luxury from the moment I saw you. It had to be you."

Many of times you tried desperately to convince yourself that he was merely manipulating you [and who could know, if he truly was], he had a seductive way with his words.

The more he spoke of this domestic, blissful dream with you, the more you seemed to desire it also, envisioning the details in your mind as it warmed your heart like a flame stoking in the fireplace.

Slowly the mutual trust began to blossom: and not before long, you were free from the four, brick walled confinement of the dingy basement, being led up to the breath of fresh air that was a neatly furnished house with contemporary furniture. A home, your new home.

"I did this all for you. This is your home now, Y/N. This is all ours. Everything you’ll ever need, I have given and will give to you."

Not before long, you had settled into a fashionably domestic routine.

Titus greatly enjoyed cooking for you, although when you decided to take the reins, he relished in your eagerness to tend to him.

Whatever the chore being attended to, he would closely watch you, hours on end even. Pleasantly admiring how dutiful you had grown towards him, proof of your loyalty.

He was also deeply in awe of your beauty, and never did a day pass by where he did not mention it to you. Praising you about how angelic and graceful you appeared to him, the way your hair swayed in motion with your body, your figure itself, and that face.

“Now how did I get so lucky finding you, baby? The woman of my dreams.”

TGC-verse Taglist - @chompchompluke @melinskis @connorsui @rhaenattargaryen @sofiyathecunt @fan-goddess @x-prettyboy-x

credit for divider - @/itbmojojoejo

#Titus #tom glynn carney #TGC #regulars #titus imagines #titus imagine #titus fanfic #titus fanfiction

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doubleca5t · 2 years

Note

of course you’re into kink and bdsm. two sides of the same coin, bdsm and agp are. if you get off on pretending lesbians want to fuck you it makes sense you’d get off on beating them too.

Anon idk if you're caught up on my lore but I don't pretend that lesbians want to fuck me they very much do

#cw transphobia #tw transphobia

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glowingbadger · 2 years

Note

i just came across some lovely artwork of diluc and the hands were On Point. if you’re still open for headcanons and stuff and this isn’t too weird could i ask for some about diluc and his s/o admiring his hands somehow???

Beautiful hands on a man are so underappreciated <3 And on the other side of this coin, I was once given a hand massage that made me fall in love then and there lmao

Man I feel like I struggle with Dilucs "voice" idk hopefully this is fine lmao

Diluc x GN Reader

Hand kink NSFW 18+ V

Just when you'd thought for a brief, hopeful moment that Diluc was actually taking the time to relax before bed, you crawl up beside him and realize that he's not reading for pleasure, but for research. Spare parchment riddled with notes piles up on his bedside table, and his eyes are narrowed with unshakeable focus as they scan the page. At a glance, this appears to be some dense text regarding the trade of rare and restricted culinary ingredients between Mondstadt and the surrounding territories. Hardly the kind of comfort reading you'd expect to lull your lover to sleep. Perhaps you should be grateful that at least he's not prowling through darkened streets on the trail of some evil-doer or another, but this is hardly how you'd prefer he spend his "night off."

"Diluc," you say with a sigh, settling on your knees on the bed beside him, "we've talked about you getting proper rest."

He replies immediately as though he'd expected your grievance,

"A night in is a rare opportunity to do some research for the betterment of the vineyard. Business is fair enough for the time being, but I won't allow my own complacency to mar my father's legacy."

Your pout in reply goes entirely unnoticed, which you suppose is unsurprising. It's not as though you can argue a point so close to his heart, and truly, you do understand and admire his ironclad convictions. Still, you can't help your concern. With yet another sigh, you shift closer to his side, then say,

"I propose a compromise."

At last, his eyes wrest themselves from the page before him, and he offers you a subdued smile.

"I am listening."

"Give me your hand- no, your writing hand," his brow furrows, and you go on, "You can keep reading, but you need to rest your hands. You're always either doing paperwork or swinging that ridiculous sword around- you'll strain something if you're not careful."

This time, he lets out a sigh of his own, but he does relent.

"A fair enough proposition. Very well, I accept," he says as you take his hand in yours, the formality in his tone contrasting the affectionate warmth in his gaze. Then, you set to your task.

You carefully remove his glove and set it aside, then begin by very gently massaging the worn and tightened joints of his fingers, tending to each in turn. While you do give your task your utmost focus, you can't help admiring his hand, larger than yours and so strong. His fingers are long and skillful, and while his weapon of choice has certainly developed hard and sturdy muscle, his skin is surprisingly soft. Those gloves of his must act as protection- though you'd be lying if you said you'd never been frustrated by how your lover insists on covering every inch of his body down to the tips of his fingers.

Gradually, you work your way down each of his joints, massaging away weeks and months and years of aches- and at last, Diluc lets slip a short, appreciative groan. You smile warmly, utterly charmed by the light pink flush across his face. Still, you continue your service, now moving on to his palm, then his wrist. Here especially, you can feel the lingering tension, and you take your time slowly guiding him into a rolling, flexing motion that should help relax the joints. This time, he bites back his pleasure, his brow creasing as he struggles to remain focused on his reading.

"My apologies-" he says stiffly, and you give a short chuckle.

"I'm glad it feels good. It's not often I get to spoil you a little, you know."

Then, you draw his hand towards your lips, and kiss the tips of his fingers, one after another- and Diluc's focus wavers. His eyes dart up to watch you, his face tinged red and his book forgotten on his lap. Now that's an interesting development- and one you can't help wanting to explore.

Wearing an impish grin, you kiss his forefinger once more, then nip at it gently, your teeth grazing his skin for the briefest moment. His reaction is more delicious than you could have anticipated; Diluc watches you with a look of agonized longing, whispering your name like a plea.

"Darling, you- this is... far too tempting..."

You move to straddle his thigh, drawing near and still holding his hand lovingly in your own. Without a word, you circle his fingertip with your tongue, teasing sensitive nerves while he watches you as though hypnotized. Before long, you're sucking gently at the tip of his finger, and Diluc's lips stall slightly parted, his chest rising and falling as his pulse pounds. You steal a glance downward, and sure enough, his hardened cock presses a lewd outline to the front of his trousers, already twitching eagerly for you.

With a playful smirk, you're about to comment on his obvious arousal, when instead, Diluc wraps a strong arm around your midsection and turns you down onto the bed beneath him. He kisses you hard, the weight of his body pinning you to the sheets, his tongue pressing past your lips as his hands seize both of yours. He pins them both above your head, and only parts from your lips to say in a harsh, graveled whisper,

"All of this teasing hardly seems fair, dearest," his hips slowly roll against you, rutting the thick length of his member between your thighs, "It seems that neither of us will be resting for some time tonight."

#diluc #diluc ragnvindr #genshin impact #diluc genshin impact #diluc x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #not sfw #genshin impact x reader

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toxicanonymity · 1 year

Text

BLOG FAQs

WELCOME ABOARD! This blog has amazing readers which makes it a lot of fun. Check your content settings to make sure you can see everything. Heed warnings on fics. UPDATED 4/30/24.

Basics

Tox/Toxy, she/her. millennial. Blog is 18+.

As of 4/30/24, I'm still on hiatus, but my WIPs are not abandoned.

Do not copy, translate, or repost* my work. Do not put it into AI or make bots of it. Ty for understanding.

*reblogging ( 🔁 button) is encouraged.

Q: Are Requests open?

A: no, not for new fics. but feel free to send thots, particularly on my stories. if I use it I'll tag you. you can also ask Qs about lore, etc.

Q: Will you write more every inch/left in Lincoln?

A: I plan to. More here. For Every Inch, there are three more parts planned.

Q: When is [fic] coming back? How many chapters?

A: IDK, sorry. If I knew I'd tell you. I have to delete asks like this for my sanity. I get overwhelmed. In the future, I'm not planning to release things as I write, I'm gonna try to finish everything before posting. Problem is I have a lot of one shot fails / play as I go AUs. We'll see. I can tell you Every Inch has 6 total parts.

Q: Did you read my fic?

A: I'm sure it's good but I'm a slow/bad reader. I'm also overdosed on pedro rn. More here.

Q: AO3

A: Here, not everything is on there but lmk if there's something you'd like me to prioritize as I work on bringing everything over.

Q: Tag list?

A: Please follow @toxicfics, use the person icon to turn on notifications, and use this trick for getting a tab on your dashboard just for your blog subscriptions so you can see what you missed.

Q: Are the fics always dark on this blog?

A: No.

Q: What is the brothel?

A: I HC my characters as living in my brothel which has its own crack sideblog @toxicbrothel and tv show.

Q: What are Joelkémons?

A: Reader-coined term for the Joel variants on this blog. Some listed here: Joelkémon cards.

Q: Can we make your characters into bots?

A: No, please don't do this. It makes me feel bad and they don't even work. Every time it puts me farther away from updating the fic. Please. o not copy, repost, translate, put in IA, or make bots of my work. Please lmk if you ever see my work made into a bot, copied, etc.

Q: Who's night walks!Joel? Who's thighs out?

A: Night Walks is an AU where Joel is your hot, older, creepy pothead neighbor. Night walks masterlist. Thighs out (another AU) is your boyfriend's hot slutty dad.

Q: What's a HOG? Who/what is GILF?

A: Hot Old Guy, from Silence can never be bought pt. 2 and 5. GILF is grandpa I'd Like to Fuck and may refer to the one from Pawn Shop (Joel in his 60s) @gilfjoel.

Q: Who is Dr. Rock?

A: Hot sex therapist who roleplays my characters. Dr. Rock is also the poster boy for avoiding discourse.

Q: Do you still write slashers?

A: Yes. I just wrote my first Thomas Hewitt in March 2024. Main/slashers masterlist.

Q: What other fics & blogs do you rec?

A: Please check out @toxicrecs

Q: How can I stay motivated to write without getting a lot of notes?

A: Please see these posts: here and here.

Q: Why did you unfollow me?

A: As a Tumblr noob, I followed accts all willy nilly--i was impatient to diversify my dash by account. But now I want it more diverse by fandom too. I recently put my dash in chronological mode and began seeing a lot more of some people. If we've never interacted, I don't want to feel like a lurker. Or I could've lost (some or all) interest in your fandom. Or I may have forgotten why I followed you, especially if what you're posting has changed. Or I might be wanting to reduce the discourse I see. Or it could be be something like what's described below that I don't want to see.

✨Q: Am I blocked? Why can't I see your main blog from my account? / Did you soft block me? What is going on?

⚠️ A: The most common reasons I block are for policing or judging what others write or post, kink shaming, or spreading harmful rumors. ⚠️

When it comes to rumors and shaming, silence is not a sign of guilt or agreement. It's confidence in the truth and desire to keep harmful takes off the dash. As a rule, I would ignore and block false accusations, rumors, or kink shamers instead of giving them a huge audience by responding or addressing it.

Harmful takes in the wild / targeted harassment: blocked. And if a post is bad enough--such as calling for targeted harassment of writers or trivializing a serious crime by casually accusing writers of it, I may block people for positively interacting with it. I don't want to be on your dash if you share those views, even if it's about som thing I don't write. On my blog, it's important for readers to understand fiction can't be equated with real life. And who's to say I won't offend or traumatize you on a different topic one day? It's for your own good.

You can get blocked on anon too.

#FAQ

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hornystiel · 1 month

Text

tagged by @thisisapaige thank youu 💙

20 Questions for Writers

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 6 (i'm new to posting my stuff there)

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 33,807

3. What fandoms do you write for? Spn, tho back in the day i wrote weird ass crossover things for some games + comics + films and manga lmao. and none of those were in english

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

dressing down, shotgunning gone right, a couple of firsts, dancing moves, chipped coin

5. Do you respond to comments? i try to respond to all of them, even if with just a thank you, and i cherish them all very much

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? umm for now it's dancing moves i guess? because it's very open and they're nowhere near done resolving their issues

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? a couple of firsts. they will be fine and they will have a lot of sex :3

8. Do you get hate on fics? not that i know of? i mean in the comments everybody is very nice :')

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? WELL. the thing is. i only read and write fics with smut because yolo carpe diem and i love smut and i think when it's well written it adds A LOT to the characters. or i just want to read steamy stuff for my own benefit hehe. anyway yes i write it and it can be anything really, but usually it's on the verge of desperate and they're very obsessed with each other. i'm also a monsterfucker and love wing kink so that too. aaand i like writing d/s dynamics <3

10. Do you write crossovers? in my earlier days - yes, i've written a couple but it's just some bits somewhere in my folders and only one person besides me saw them. in spn fandom i'm not really interested in it

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? not that i know of and i don't think i'm that popular lmao

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? as of now - nope

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? no and i honestly don't think i'll be able to because i'm too protective and too 'it should be my way and style and nothing else' person so i'd be a nightmare to co-write with

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? destiel (duh) and mckirk (so many years have passed and yet they still hold a place in my heart)

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? idk i have hope that i will be able to finish them all eventually. but probably the 'Skating Gays' fic because i can't focus enough to do a proper research on all figure skating shit and i don't want to write it half blindly and also in my head it's like at least 40k long and it intimidates me because i usually write much shorter stuff

16. What are your writing strengths? dialogues and smut (or i hope so at least)

17. What are your writing weaknesses? can't stay motivated and focused to write Big Works and probs the whole 'what's around the characters' descriptions

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? i'm bilingual myself with knowledge of bits and pieces in other languages and it doesn't bother me even if it's in a language i don't know, it can even be left without any footnotes if the meaning of this bit is for the audience/another character to fail to understand the character speaking. other than that i can read the translated text and be okay

19. First fandom you wrote for? hmm. hard to remember but if we're digging deep enough it was probably tsubasa reservoir chronicle

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? i love all of them? i put my whole pussy in all of them and i enjoy them after. but IF i have to choose...dancing moves and dressing down probably. still. HARD

tagging @jactingjoices @hauntedpearl @angelcasendgame 💜

#tagged #destiel fic #writing #fanfiction

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strayshornystuff · 6 days

Text

An encounter with… slime?

(Warning: this short story is a fetish story, that makes use of transformation and other, strange kinks that idk if they’re named. You have been warned!!)

I got to the door, breathless, ready to have a go at whatever kid had been ding-dong-ditching me for the past hour. But to my surprise, there was a delivery driver, with a small, unmarked cardboard box in his hands. He looked at me funnily until I caught my breath, but once I’d explained, and he’d had a small laugh, package was signed, driver thanked, and box placed on the nearest bench I could find. Which happened to be my coffee table in the living area (hardly a room; a mix of the kitchen, the living room, and the entryway). I plop down, taking my first, proper look at the parcel. The only problem is, the only label on it being my address, no sender, no logo, not even my name as the receiver of the parcel. ‘Oh well,’ I think out loud, sharing with the ghost of the room, ‘if I open it, maybe I can figure out who sent it? Or maybe see if it was a mistake?’

Obviously, no response sounds. I had more than once gone about screaming in the room, talking about my latest break up, or just ranting about something ridiculous, in my thinking out loud process, so part of me was glad there wasn’t actually any ghosts that could hear me. But nonetheless, I grabbed the shears from the kitchen and precisely slid the blade through the tape, allowing the box to present what it had been holding… a… erm… ‘what is this?’ I caught myself muttering. There was what looked to be a corked vial with a silvery block of… something…inside. Reaching for the vial, feeling the cool glass quickly warming at my touch, something strange happened. The solid block inside the vial had become liquid, and was moving around inside the glass, leaving nothing behind on the surface.

‘Oh, it’s gallium!’ I realised. My friend who majored in chemistry had pulled a trick on me one night, asking if I could hold a rare coin for him. Fuck, the stress I felt seeing it melt in my hands… clever bastard, nonetheless. Seeing as it was harmless, I immediately uncorked the vial, and poured it out onto my hand.

It wasn’t gallium.

The moment it had touched my hand, I could tell that something was wrong. First, it felt quite heavy, like slime, or honey, but it wasn’t sticky. Second, it instantly started expanding, spreading, coating my hand in a thick layer of whatever it was, and started sliding up my arm. Clawing at the substance with my spare hand, I felt most of it slip right through the gaps between my fingers, before the slime started to move along that arm too, creeping under my clothes. The goo was fast, alive, and… warm, and… soothing. I could feel my muscles relaxing, a pleasant sensation prickling the skin where it touched, as it started to crawl onto my shoulders, connecting across my back, pulling over my… ‘ooooouuuuhhhhh~’ I hear myself moan as the slime found my chest, and the pleasure it had been providing me was now coupled with making my skin so much… more fucking… sensitive…

The silvery menace wasn’t done with me yet. The creature started to embrace the lower half of me, creeping down along my tummy. ‘Oh~!’ Gently sliding over my thighs… ‘Mmmm~’ Creeping over my soles… ‘G-hhaaa…’ And as if it had been saving it for last, swiftly closing the gap it had left along my legs, and coiling into a long, tentacle-like appendage, wriggling slightly, hovering just above my… Fuck. ‘Oooaaahhhh~~!’ I couldn’t help but cry out in pleasure as the slime stuck itself inside of me, and started to move around, in and out, twisting inside of me, gently seeking its way deeper inside…

I couldn't help but lay there, whining and squeaking as the slime kept slowly thrusting in, and out, of me, making everything it touched more sensitive, pleasuring me more and more, and occasionally, it would throb slightly, the pulse gently expanding my hole, moving inside of me, and adding to the growing, writhing, sensual party the slime was having in my tummy. My legs and arms would have been squeezed together, flexing, in a reflexive attempt to take a break from the pleasure. That is, if it weren't for the fact that the slime would resist any movement of my own will, and even gently kept forcing my legs to open, my arms to lock above my head, forcing me to present myself to the empty room.

My whole body was now coated with the slippery, firmly attached goo, except for my head. But the slime must have wanted me to be completely submissive, because not even 5 seconds after the monster, creature, whatever it was had penetrated me, I felt it creeping over my head, and another tentacle gently slid into my open, moaning throat. The slime’s ability to heighten my senses in some must have dulled it in others, because my gag reflex was gone, and the tentacle slid further in, feeling places inside me I had never felt before. The ultimate deepthroat experience, being fucked at my other end by the same slime, a gooey spit roast that I was powerless to stop. The goo that had crawled over my mouth had one final area to cover, and with my mouth and nose sealed off, it slowly crept over my eyes, absorbing the tears it had fucked out of me already, and I watched as the last glimmer of light closed off, leaving me in darkness with nothing but pleasure to hold on to. I lay there, in the darkness, cumming over and over, feeling the slime on every outside part of me, and most of my insides too. Despite the slime filling my throat and lungs, I never felt like I was suffocating, nor hungry, nor thirsty. I lost track of time, with my limbs helpless to do anything against the slime, unable to feel anything but it continuing to fuck me, filling me more and more, my tummy expanding slightly to try and accommodate, my gut flexing with every orgasm, my brain slowly forgetting anything but this feeling.....

After some, indescribable amount of time, however, something changed. I saw light. I woke up slowly, surprised I had even fallen asleep with how badly I was cumming, and looked around. I was in the same clothes I hand been when the whole ordeal had started, the box and vial were in the spots where they had been forgotten, but something was different. A thin, layer of dust lay on top of them, and everything else, as I would quickly notice. How long had I been under the spell of that creature? Conveniently, my phone buzzed, reminding me of the existence of the world beyond my room’s walls, and sure enough, when I checked, I had about 8 missed calls, mostly from my job. The date was three days further ahead than it should have been. That slime had made the days worthwhile though, that couldn’t be denied… shit, where is it? I look about, unable to locate it initially, until I see a shine out of the corner of my eye. I look down at my wrist, and sure enough, there was a small silver band that looked like a tattoo, stuck to my skin. I rubbed it gently, and sure enough, it latched gently for a moment, but let my hand go when I pulled back slightly. That’s when I heard it in my head. ‘I mean, I guess I had fun…’ ‘When can we again? So soon? I don’t know…’ ‘Well that’s all well and good, but I don’t fully know who you are yet!’ And so, began an interesting relationship, with a parasitic slime that had technically raped me, apologised, and was now being respectful… I had died in a house fire in the building a few years before this weirdo moved in, and had heard them rant about some strange things, like ‘Light contraction’ and ‘Respect being all out of whack.’ But I had just borne witness to them getting swallowed by a tiny piece of slime that wasn’t so tiny, lie there making lewd sounds for three days, and suddenly get up and start talking to their wrist. Fuck this ghost shit, I’m out of here…

If you’ve gotten this far, you probably read all that! If you liked it, I’m glad! If there was something I could have done better though, please let me know, I’m trying to improve my creative writing. Sorry for the weird kinks, except not bc we don’t kinkshame, and see y’all next time.

#me please #queer nsft #bi nsft #slime kink #tentacles #teratophillia #bi ns/fw #Pleas help me with tags I’m really needing to add more I know but ahhhhh #subby thoughts #cnc k!nk #cnc somno #fill my holes #fill me up

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