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nanaslutt · 2 months

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when your boyfriend asks you to cheat on him with his best friend

ʚ ft. cuck!Geto Suguru, Gojo satoru x reader

ʚ cont: established relationship, fem reader, cucking, Geto is a perv, cumming untouched, oral, dirty talk, teasing, masturbation, multiple orgasms, rough sex, praise, pull-out method, dacraphillia

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

...."What?" You replied quietly, even though you heard his words loud and clear. "W-why would you want that?" You asked, noticing how much harder it became to keep eye contact. Geto had invited Gojo over to hang out, the three of you lounging around in the living area, hanging out, when you noticed Geto's demeanor change a bit.

He knew how much Gojo wanted you, it was obvious. Gojo would never say it first, but he thought you were the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. Of course, Geto was his best friend and you were his girlfriend, so he would never act on any of his deep dark impulses, but that didn't stop him from making innuendos here and there, maybe touching your shoulder a little too long, looking at your body in a way he shouldn't when you turned around, unable to notice him checking you out. But Geto did, he noticed it all.

Instead of being pissed at his best friend, all the little touches and teases, the almost advances he made on his girl, made his pants tight. Usually, he could bare with it, hold out until his white-haired best friend went home before he picked you up and fucked you on the couch right where you and Gojo were just sitting, but today was different.

Geto's mouth was running dry watching Gojo's fingers rub the couch as he laid his arm out behind you, relaxed. He knew Gojo craved to be caressing your skin instead, that's what drove him so crazy. The way his best friend kept dropping his gaze to your lips, your breasts, all of it, it was driving him mad. So mad, that he had to excuse himself, and you, from Gojo's company, pulling you into his bedroom where he spilled his deep dark desires, unable to keep them inside any longer.

"Fuck I don't know, I don't know," Geto said, covering his mouth with his hand. He kept it there for a moment, looking around the room in thought before he dragged his hand down his face and reached out to grab yours. "All I know is that whenever I think about him fucking you in front of me, it makes me so fucking hard I can barely stand it." He said, looking frantic, impatient.

You dropped your eyes to his crotch and noticed the very obvious, twitching bulge he was sporting in his sweats, he was serious. "If you don't wanna do it just forget it, it's fine really I just needed to say somethin-" "How long have you been feeling like this?" You asked, cutting him off. You kept your eyes on him, fighting the urge to look away bashfully. Geto stopped his rambling, his mouth falling slightly open as he just looked at you. You didn't say no.

"So long baby, so fucking long. Can't help but think about it every time he's around you." Geto said, a blush biting the tips of his ears. You felt a sudden rush of heat flood down between your thighs at his shamelessness. It was a lot to take in so suddenly. To be honest you had never thought of Gojo in that way before, so having Geto confess something like this was a bit of a shock. It wasn't that you thought Gojo was ugly, or even thought he would be back in the sack, it's just you truly hadn't thought about it.

Why would you have? He was Geto's bestfriend. But apparently, Geto would like it if you did think about him that way. "How... how do you know you really want this?" You asked, keeping your voice low and quiet, cautious for Gojo to not overhear as he was just in the other room. Geto stepped closer to you, using both his large hands to grab your waist, pressing your pelvis against his. You could feel his boner poke you just above your cunt, making your eyebrows knit together.

"I've dreamt about it baby, dreamt about him fucking you. You have no idea how much I think about this." He whispered, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. His words made you blush as you looked between your bodies at his hard cock, that he was ever so slightly rubbing against you. "Dreams are different from reality Sugu... what if..." You paused, wanting to find the right words before you spoke.

"Say me and Gojo really did it in front of you." Just the mention of the hypothetical had Geto nodding at your words and pulling his lip between his teeth. "What if you were wrong and you don't actually want this? I don't want to hurt you Sugu." You said, grabbing his face with both of your palms. Geto smiled and leaned into the touch. "You know I won't let anything happen if I'm not okay with it. I promise you though baby, with 100% certainty, that I will like it, I need it." He responded, easing your worries.

"Do you... think you can do it though? I don't wanna make you uncomfortable just for my interesting kinks." Geto said, his words making you huff a laugh through your nose. "I haven't ever thought about... fucking Satoru, but he's pretty easy on the eyes." You joked, "It should be fine." Geto groaned at that, his head falling forward and landing on your shoulder.

"I love you so much you know that? 'S gonna be so fucking hard not to cream in my pants just watchin' you two kiss." He whispered against your neck, his words alone riling him up. "Baby..." You said softly, running your hands through his hair. "Will Satoru be okay with this?" You asked, making Geto raise his head to look at you, a telling smile already on his face.

Once Geto collected himself enough to not walk like he was hiding a bomb in his pants, the two of you left the small room he pulled you into and back into the living room, where Gojo was sprawled on the couch, legs spread far apart, arms around the back of the cushions.

You swallowed hard, trying to remember what Geto told you to do. You could do it, for him, you could do it. Gojo turned his head toward the two of you when he saw your figures renter the room. "There you are~ Was starting to think you two were getting handsy somewhere." Gojo teased. You kept walking toward him, not faltering in your pace, not uttering a word back, not so much as breathing. Geto stopped a couple of feet from the couch, just watching you with bated breath for what was about to happen.

Gojo lazily looked up to meet your face when his view of the TV was obstructed by your body. "What are ya-" His words were cut short when you placed both hands on his shoulders and plopped yourself down onto his lap. Gojo's hands jerked in front of him and just hovered inches from your hips, which were now straddling his. His mouth opened to speak again but he was promptly cut off when you grabbed his soft cheeks in your hands and pressed his lips against yours.

The white-haired man made a noise of surprise against you, his body going rigid. Gojo's eyes were wide as his brain tried to catch up to what the hell was happening. His eyes found Geto's, just on the outside of his peripherals, and he was met with his best friend's large frame standing just as still as he was, eyes lower than usual, arms crossed, and of course, a huge fucking boner in his pants.

Gojo caught on quickly, a small huff of a laugh leaving his nose just before you pulled back, looking at him uncertainty, like you were waiting for him to react. "I think I know what's going on," Gojo said, smirking mischievously. Geto stayed quiet, opting to slowly sit down on the couch next to him that faced the large sofa, housing his best friend and his girlfriend, straddling his hips.

"This a test or somethin' or is this for real?" Gojo asked, astonished. The tips of his ears started to grow hot, as did the rest of his body. "Does it look like I'm joking?" Geto asked, his shaky hand grabbing ahold of his bulge, not rubbing it, just putting some pressure on himself, his other arm laying on the arm of the couch. "Fuck." Gojo huffed, a smile still on his face as he looked between the two of you.

"So what do you want from me? Want me to fuck her? Is that it?" Gojo asked, finally closing the distance between his hands and your hips, grabbing them steadily, making you press yourself fully down on his lap. You winced at the feeling of his bulge poking against you, his mannerisms were so different that Geto's, but having Geto here made you feel a lot more comfortable. And you trusted Gojo, of course.

"Yeah," Geto replied, nodding. Gojo's smile grew before he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and looked at you, cocking his head to the side. "You want that too? Want me to fuck you while your boyfriend watches?" Gojo was already in this. He really could adapt to any situation surprisingly quickly. You turned your head to look at Geto, but your gaze was quickly corrected when Satoru gripped the bottom half of your face and made you look back at him.

"I asked you, baby." He smiled, his words teasing and light, but his touch rough. Gojo looked down at your plush lips before his eyes fell back on yours, his head inching closer to your face. "Want me to fuck you? Make you cum all over my cock?" He whispered, his hot breath tickling your face, making you whine quietly at his words. When you nodded coyly your consent, Gojo laughed, releasing your chin.

"Maaaan~ She's so fucking cute, this is gonna be so fun." Gojo chipped, rolling his head before he placed it back in front of yours. "Let's give that cuck a show then," Gojo whispered, his words not being missed by Geto's ears, making his cock twitch. You whimpered when Gojo pressed his lips to yours, a hum from him vibrating throughout your lips as his hand fell back down on your hip once more.

Gojo maneuvered the two of you to be laying down against the length of the couch, one of Gojo's legs hanging off the side, his foot placed firmly on the ground as you chased his lips, your body staying firmly against his as you were now on top of him laying down. Geto licked his lips, adding a bit more pressure to his cock as he watched Gojo's hands caress your body, teasing the skin of your back underneath your shirt.

"Let's get this off, yeah?" He whispered against your lips, letting you sit up to remove your shirt. You nodded, your eyes finding Geto's for a moment which were content and full of lust, before they were back on Gojo. Gojo ran his hands up your exposed skin the higher and higher you dragged your shirt up your body until your black lacy bra was exposed to his hungry eyes, the shirt being tossed carelessly on the floor.

"Oh fuckkk." Gojo groaned as he continued to greedily rub his hands up and down your body while you placed your hands on his abdomen, your ass firmly on his crotch. "Knew your body was hot but you look even better like this." He praised, thrusting his hips up against yours, his ass leaving the couch cushions for a minute. You felt your face erupt in heat and looked away, squeezing your legs around Gojo's body to relieve some of the ache you felt between your thighs.

"What do you say, baby?" Geto's voice rang into your ears, making you look over at him while Gojo's eyes stayed on you. "He complimented you, what do you say?" He repeated, his hand now slowly rubbing over the bulge in his sweats, matching the tantalizing pace of Gojo's hips rubbing against yours. Your embarrassment only grew getting called out like that. Looking back down to Gojo, his eyes were open wide, eyebrows raised as he waited for you to speak.

"Thank you, Satoru." You replied, finding it hard to meet his eyes. Gojo grabbed one of your hands and brought it to his mouth, leaving a soft kiss against your wrist. "No problem baby." He replied, before releasing your hand and turning his head to look at Geto. "She's so polite." He said, praising Geto for training you so well. Geto smiled in return, nodding knowingly. "She'll even thank you after she takes a load down her throat," Geto added, his cock twitching at the thought.

This made Gojo audibly groan, his head rolling back against the couch, messing up his pretty hair. "Fuck I wanna see that." He groaned, long and needy. "You wanna show me what Suguru is talking about baby?" Gojo smiled sweetly, rolling his hips in circles up against your cunt, making your eyes flutter. You nodded timidly, feeling your body get hit with another wave of arousal. Gojo's smile grew in size, his cute dimples poking his cheeks.

Geto watched with bated breath as you slid down his body, pressing your thighs together as you sat on your knees between his legs, working on his belt. "You gonna jerk off to this or what?" Came Gojo's voice, cutting through the arosual clouding Suguru's head. Suguru shook his head, opting to continue to just palm himself over his pants while he watched you pull Gojo's pants down. "Not yet, don't wanna cum till you start fucking her." He said, arousal heavy in his voice.

Gojo made a sound of approval, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue before he looked back down to you. "Oh! Didn't realize you got that far." Gojo giggled, watching how you held his crumpled pants midway down his thighs, staring at his long, pretty cock, with a pink flushed, dripping head. Gojo wiggled his hips, making his cock sway in front of you. "You like it?" He asked, cockily.

"It's so big." You whispered, laying down on your belly between his thighs as you stared at it in awe. "You think so, baby? 'S it prettier than Suguru's cock?" He teased, glancing over at Geto who shook his head in annoyance. Gojo sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth when you wrapped your hand around the head of his cock, rubbing his pre-cum against your palm. "They're both pretty." You complimented, smiling up at him.

Gojo bit his lip and pinched your cheek, watching how you slightly winced as you dragged your hand down his cock, rubbing his precum down his length. "Guess I'll find out if 'ur tellin' the truth when Suguru gets his cock out later." Gojo teased, sliding his hand back from your cheek to rest on the back of your head. You glanced over at Suguru to make sure he was still doing okay, and you were met with your boyfriend looking the most around you'd ever seen him, the sight relaxing your nerves in an instant.

"Suck his cock baby, show him how good that throat feels." Geto encouraged, gripping the outline of his cock through his sweats and stroking. You nodded and brought your attention back to the hard cock in front of you, throbbing against your hand. "Yeah, what he said." Gojo chimed in, making you want to roll your eyes. Such a Satoru thing to say at a moment like this.

You gave Gojo a few more strokes before you leaned in, your breasts resting on his upper thighs just below his cock as you stuck your tongue out. You flattened your tongue on the underside of his cock and tapped the head against it, continuing to stroke him off. Gojo groaned, watching your tongue wipe over the head of his cock, collecting the pre-cum there.

His smile started to fade the longer you teased him, pure arousal taking over his body. His jaw fell open and his eyes fluttered in his head when you finally wrapped your lips around his cock, immediately finding a pace as you bobbed your head on him, taking more and more cock into your mouth with each thrust.

Gojo's fingers curled into your hair at the stimulation, his legs parting in tandem. "Oh fuckk." He groaned, his head rolling back against the cushion before he forced himself to look down at the show you were putting on for him. Your eyebrows furrowed when you took him into your throat, fighting back gags. "Ffffuck- tight fucking throat-" Gojo praised, his hips jerking against your face when your throat contracted around him. "Takin' it like a fucking champ." He added, nodding down at you.

If your mouth wasn't stuffed with cock, you would've smiled at his compliment. "Feels good huh?" Geto added, squeezing the base of his cock through his pants, trying to resist the urge to cum already without even touching his cock. Gojo nodded dumbly, his hand just following your movements with its place on the back of your head. "Uh-huh uh-huh, shit-" Gojo's abs clenched and his back arched forward when you took him completely into your throat and hummed, shaking your head back and forth.

"Ohmygod- fuck oh my god Suguru-" Gojo whined, his toes curling at the feeling of your warm throat. "Can't believe you waited so long to let me feel this, s-shes so fucking good- I'm gonna cum already-" Gojo whined, his body jerking and twitching against the couch. Geto nodded in agreement, his eyes locked on the spot where his cock and your mouth met. "Yeah, me neither." He responded, reaching his free hand up to rub a few fingers around his nipples, giving him some other stimulation that wasn't as intense as his cock.

Gojo's breathing was so choked and rapid, sounding like he just finished running a marathon, mixed with long groans and curses of your name. "Holy fuck baby, I'm really gonna cum-" He groaned, adding his other hand down to grab your head, placing both hands over your ears. "Can I fuck your throat? Just a little? Huh?" He begged, nodding at his own words. Gojo felt his balls tighten with the need for release, he wasn't going to last much longer.

You nodded around him, stilling your movements as you relinquished control. "Good fucking girl, show your boyfriend how good you take his best friend's load." His words went straight to Geto's cock, making him have to grip his base tighter. It was almost humiliating how much Geto was into this, his most craved fantasy was happening right in front of his eyes, and it was so arousing it was almost too much to handle.

You relaxed your throat and let Gojo fuck his hips into your mouth, obscene squelching and moans echoing into the room as he did so. You were used to this kind of treatment. Geto was usually a little rougher, and his cock was thicker than Satory's, so taking Gojo's cock, despite the length, was fairly easy.

Gojo pursed his lips around his teeth and groaned obscenely, sounding like a porn star. "Ohhhh fuck 'm cumming baby, cumming- oh fuck-" Gojo's groans and whines got higher in pitch as he was pushed to the edge by your tight throat. Geto felt his whole body tingle from his head to his toes, his brain feeling fuzzy, body feeling warm. He was too enamored by the scene in front of him to notice the familiar sensation racking through his body.

Gojo held your head down on the base of his cock, lips flush to his abdomen as he groaned long and loud, body jerking and spasming, back arched, eyes rolling back in his head, all as he released his thick load down your throat. Geto choked on a moan as his body doubled over, his thighs snapping shut. His hand that was playing with his chest slammed down on the arm of the couch, his fingers gripping the fabric of it for support as he came in his pants, a dark wet patch spreading on his sweats under his hand.

You fought back the gags that wanted to escape as you swallowed everything Satoru gave you, not wanting to waste a drop. Even after Gojo had stopped emptying his balls, he kept you down on him, letting his cock just rest in your warm throat, before he pulled you off a few moments later, allowing you to catch your breath. Gojo grabbed his cock and gripped it hard at the base, relishing in the aftershocks, his cock still hard and ready for more.

"T-thank you Satoru." You whispered, voice a little hoarse from taking his cock in your throat. "Fuuuuck you were right Suguru, she really does thank you for takin' cock down her throat." Gojo laughed, looking over at his best friend. Gojo's eyebrows shot up in surprise when he noticed Geto's fist over his mouth, legs crossed over one another, the wet patch evident on his pants. "Ohhohooo~" Gojo cooed, peeking your interest and making you look over at him as well.

"Came in your pants jus watching me fuck your girl's throat? That's kinda perverted Suguru." Gojo teased, caressing the back of your neck with his other hand. "Suguru..." You whispered, feeling yourself grow wetter between your thighs at the thought of Geto cumming in his pants. You cursed yourself for missing such a sight.

Geto stayed silent, his chest rising and falling heavily as he caught his breath. "Hope you got some more in you because I'm about to fuck her now." Gojo teased, a malicious smile spreading across his face before he looked back to you, his expression softening. "How do you want it pretty? Want it from the back? You like to be manhandled? Hm?" You felt your face grow hot at his words. You looked over to Geto for help, Satoru watching your gaze.

"Want him to decide?" He added, his voice quieter. You kept your eyes on Suguru as you nodded, the corner of Suguru's smile peeking out from behind his fist. Your boyfriend uncrossed his legs and tilted his head against his hand. "You like it from the back, don't you baby?" Geto said, his smile warming you up all over again. You nodded in response, waiting for him to speak again. "Satoru." He said, looking at his best friend now.

"You can't cum inside her cunt, that's the only rule," Geto said firmly, making sure his words were heard loud and clear. Gojo pursed his lips together, pouting a bit. "Fiiiiiine. Do I have to use a condom?" He asked, tilting his head to the side. Suguru only shrugged in response, leaning back against the couch as he began to pull his sweats down. "Up to her." He said, bringing Satoru's attention back to you.

"What's it gonna be sweetheart? You want me to wrap it up? Or you wanna feel my cock rubbin' inside you raw?" He asked, watching how you began to untie the string of your shorts. "I can't help but notice you made one option sound a little better than the other." You snorted, pulling your shorts down your legs, revealing your cute black panties that matched your bra.

Gojo giggled, grabbing your hips and placing your panty-clad clit on top of his bulge, making you rut your hips against him. "I might be a little biased." He said teasingly, his cock already dripping pre-cum again, smearing against the outside of your panties. "No condom it is then." You replied, making Gojo bring his hand into a fist and drag his arm down, saying a dramatic "Yesssss." To which you and Geto both shook your heads.

"Cmere then baby," Gojo said, his demeanor suddenly changing into a more serious one. He pulled you against him, your legs slotting together as your hands fell on his chest, your lips connecting with his. He moaned quietly into your mouth, rutting his hips against your tummy, getting it wet with his arousal. Geto licked his lips watching the two of you as he fully pulled his cock out of his sweats, dragging his hand down his length torturously slow, rubbing his first orgasm down his cock.

Geto felt a sudden shock to his guts when Gojo cracked his eyes open and looked at Geto through the corners of them teasingly, his eyes finding his before they dropped to his cock, then back up to his eyes. He kissed you more dramatically, opening his mouth more against yours so Geto could see your tongues tangling together sloppily, the spit being exchanged between them. Geto picked up the pace on his cock, feeling himself strain against his hand the longer they stared at each other.

Gojo looked back at you and separated from your lips, your expression fucked out and needy already just from a little kissing. "Let's get to the good stuff, yeah? Don't think your boyfriend can take much more." Gojo teased, making you look over to Geto, who was steadily dripping down his fingers, watching the two of you intently, how Gojo was holding you. "Looks like his cock is about to explode, right?" He whispered, making you nod and whimper in agreement.

"You were right, it is pretty too. I see why you couldn't choose." Gojo added, making you whine. Gojo tapped your ass before he spoke again. "Alright, up so we can switch. Wanna see that ass up for me." He smiled, to which you nodded and scooted over, letting Satoru sit up so you could take his place, your body perched against the couch on all fours before you leaned the front half of your body down, leaving your ass up for Satoru's viewing pleasure.

Gojo rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, stroking his cock slowly. "Fuckk, that arch is crazy." He praised, feeling his mouth water. "You get to fuck this pussy every night?" Gojo asked, grabbing a handful of the fat of your ass and jiggling it. Geto smiled and felt himself throb again, fighting the urge to jerk himself off until he came. "Yeah, just wait till you see her pussy." Geto felt so proud showing you off like this, you were the perfect girl, and he was more than happy to share and show off just how perfect you were,

"Let's see that pussy then." He said, tucking his fingers under the band of your panties and slowly pulling them down. You wiggled your hips back against him as your ass was exposed, bit by bit. Your head was forced to the side from the position you were in, meaning you were forced to look at Geto. The perfect view of him watching you intently while stroking himself off made you throb around nothing, excited to watch him cum while you get fucked by someone else.

"Oh Shit Suguru," Gojo whined, dragging your panties down to your knees. He brought both hands to your ass and pulled them apart, forcing the folds of your pussy to spread for him, strings of your wetness sticking to yourself. You could hear Gojo's breathing pick up just from watching you. You felt so needy feeling his thumbs spread you open so close to your cunt without touching you, you needed to feel something soon or you were going to lose your mind.

Just before you were about to beg, you felt your ass part further before you felt Gojo lick a fat stripe up the expanse of your cunt, making a moan rip from your lungs. A hand shot back and tangled in his soft hair, pressing his head against you. "Ffff-uck-" You whined, your eyes rolling back in your head. Your shins kicked up and your toes curled behind you as Gojo wasted no time in burring his face in your pussy and sticking his tongue into your tight hole, sucking up all the wetness there.

Geto was caught off guard just as much as you, his hand speeding up on himself as he watched Gojo shake his head back and forth against your pussy, his cock throbbing heavily between your legs, dripping pre-cum against the cushions as he ate you out like a man starved. You couldn't help but wiggle back on him when you felt his tongue lap out and lick at your clit, making you see stars behind your eyelids.

You don't know why you were so surprised at how good he was with his tongue. He was the sloppiest eater you knew and could put away four large ice cream Sundays in 4 minutes, and god if it didn't translate into the bedroom. Gojo pulled back with a gasp, massaging your ass cheeks in his hands, the bottom half of his face already covered in wetness. "Holy shit you taste good baby. Almost got lost in there." He giggled. Your hand released from his hair and fell back down to the pillow under your head, both your arms wrapping around it to ground yourself.

"I could eat you out all fucking day, but I swear my dick feels like it's gonna burst. Need to be inside you right now. I can eat you out properly another time, 'm sure Suguru wouldn't mind that, would he?" Gojo asked cocikly, hitting the dart right on the mark. Geto didn't answer, just licked his lips and kept his eyes on yours, staring at your fucked out expression.

"Yeah, he won't mind," Gojo said, answering his own question. Gojo leaned up and scooted closer to you, pressing his cock between the crevice of your ass. "Don't think I'm gonna last long," Gojo said, tapping his cock against your ass. "But then... neither are you two, right?" The white-haired man smiled all knowingly.

Gojo rubbed his cock against the underside of your cunt, his hot cock stimulating your swollen clit perfectly. "Don't think I forgot about her. She'll get some attention when I get inside you." Gojo whispered, rubbing his cock back and forth a few more times against your clit before he pulled back and lined himself up with your cunt. Suguru watched with bated breath as his best friend took a few deep breaths and bit his lip, his eyes locked on where the two of you were connected.

His jaw fell open with the two of yours when Gojo slowly pushed inside, feeling little resistance thanks to how wet you were. His fingers dug into the fat of your hip as his head fell back, a loud groan leaving his lips. "So tight, s-so tight fuck-," Gojo repeated as his cock was sucked in by your tight, warm walls, so much tighter than your throat, if it was even possible.

"How's it feel baby?" Geto spoke, his voice hoarse and deep with his arousal. "N-need you to tell me how his cock feels inside you," Geto begged, stroking himself faster. Gojo choked on his own moans and breaths as he tried to calm himself down, stilling his hips flush against your ass as he tried not to blow his load prematurely. "Suguru, s-Suguru it's so deep. F-feel it in my tummy." You whined, placing your hand on your stomach.

Geto groaned and spread his legs, feeling his cock throb at your words. "Deeper than mine? Huh?" Geto didn't know if he wanted you to say yes or no, he just wanted you to talk to him, to tell him how it felt. You waited a moment before nodding, averting your eyes. The dark-haired man found his answer when he had to squeeze the base of his cock hard to prevent himself from cumming at that moment.

Gojo half smiles through his arousal at your answer before he rolled his hips into yours, fucking his cock even deeper inside you if that was even possible. "You're twitching around me like crazy, you want me to move now?" Gojo asked, using his thumb to pull at your opening where his cock was currently inside. "Please, p-please move Satoru." You begged, doing your best to fuck your hips back against him in the position you were in.

Gojo smiled before he looked over at Geto, who looked about halfway to losing his mind from being so horny. "You like hearing your girlfriend beg for another man's cock?" He teased, getting into Geto's kink to rile him up more. Geto nodded, his other hand joining the mix to play with his balls. "Heh, I can't believe my best friend likes to get cucked, and I never knew till now." That was the last words Gojo said before he started driving his hips into yours like a madman.

Moan after moan spilled from your lips, tears welling up in your eyes from the intense pleasure. Gojo kept true to his word and started rubbing quick circles against your clit, the wetness being fucked out of you making the sensation stronger. Geto rolled his balls between his fingers and jerked himself off to match Gojo's pace, slowing down or pausing entirely when he felt like he was going to cum.

"S-suguru, suguru-" You cried, your words coming out desperate and choppy. Gojo pouted behind you, his cock fucking into you rougher. "Hey, that's not nice. You shouldn't cry another man's name when I'm fucking you." He pouted, angling his hips to drive his cock deeper inside you, pummeling your sweet with every thrust.

"He's right baby, I'm right here, I'm here, but you can say his name its okay. Want you to say his name." Geto encouraged, making a smile creep onto Gojo's face, his fingers rubbing back and forth faster along your clit. "Fuck- Satoru, t-toru its so deep, feels s- good." You whined, tears now spilling freely down your cheeks.

Gojo felt his cock twitch, he cursed himself internally for being so weak for you. He just started fucking you and already just from a few thrusts and cries for your name, he already felt like cumming. "I know baby, can feel how deep you're taking me, feels so good for me too baby." He groaned, wincing when you squeezed your cunt around him, a loud moan coming out choked from his throat.

The loud 'plap' sounds echoing through the room only spurred him on more, making him fuck you harder, deeper, wanting to hear you cry louder. A ring of cum had started to form around the base of his dick and dripped down his balls from how wet you were. Gojo's fingers on your clit started to lose their rhythm, going slow, then fast, jerking all over the place. It was doing it for you, so you had no complaints, but you knew Gojo was close.

Gojo rolled his head back, his hip's rhythm getting sloppy as well. Geto watched his eyes flutter in his head. Gojo looked like he was panicking, trying to calm himself down. It was obvious he didn't want to stop yet, but your pussy was just too good. "I know." Geto chimed in, finding Gojo's eyes. "Her pussy is dangerous, makes you finish so fucking fast. 'Specially the first round." He nodded, his balls tightening with his release.

Gojo groaned at his words. "Yeah, she's s-squeezing me like a fucking vice, and it's so fucking warm, f-feel like my cock is melting." He cried, his words rushed and high-pitched. "G-god I'm gonna cum." He whimpered, his body fighting to stay upright. His hips slamming against your ass felt so good, only adding to the pleasure he was already giving you.

The men's conversation was blurring in your head, the only thing your brain was focused on was cumming on Satoru's cock. "You getting close baby? Gonna cum on Satoru?" Geto asked, his cock throbbing against his hand. You nodded at his words, your eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, legs pressed firmly together as Gojo fucked you up to your orgasm. "R-right there." You whined, your back arching against him.

"Let go, baby, let go." With Geto's encouraging words, your orgasm crashed over you. Gojo clenched his teeth together when your pussy squeezed around him even tighter than before, pulling a wonton moan from his lips. He almost forgot Geto's rule only seconds before he came. Hurriedly, he pulled out his cock and started jerking himself off, making sure he continued rubbing his fingers over your clit, working you through your orgasm.

Geto came at the same time, white ropes of cum shooting out of his cock and dripping down his fingers, his legs spreading further as his body sank against the couch, his eyes never once leaving the sight in front of him. Your shins crossed over one another as your body was wracked with tremors. Your orgasm hit you so hard you were seeing stars.

Gojo groaned through his high as he jerked himself off over your ass, thinner ropes of cum decorating your ass and back. He came so much, maybe even more than the time he came down your throat. He had your cunt trying to milk him that entire time for that. "Ohhhhhh- ffuuuck." Gojo groaned, tapping the head of his cock against your ass as he started to come down, rubbing his cum on your skin.

You let your arch fall as you fell onto your side against the sheets, your body jerking every now and then. You pressed your thighs together firmly, keeping pressure on your sensitive, still throbbing clit. Geto wasted no time in tucking his spent cock back in his ruined boxers and pulled up his pants, walking over to the couch in front of him.

Gojo rested his hands on your ass and thighs, rubbing them soothingly. Geto crouched down by the edge of the cough and grabbed your face in his hands, making you peel your eyes open. You smiled the instant you saw his face. Geto leaned in and pressed a long, sweet kiss to your lips before pulling away and wiping the sweat and baby hairs from your face. "Good girl baby, I love you so much. Thank you, you did so well."

You let his words relax your body further as you melted into the cushions, Gojo's warm hands caressing you and easing you even more. "Aww..." Gojo pouted, making Geto look over to him. "I'm feelin' kinda left out, can I get a kiss too?" Gojo teased, pointing to his pink, swollen lips. Geto made a noise of disgust before he directed his attention back to you, pressing another kiss to your forehead.

"Oh, so jerking off while watching me fuck your girlfriend is okay, but a kiss is too much? It's hard out here." Gojo pouted, only making Geto shake his head harder. "Thanks for doing this, and thanks for not coming inside her," Geto said, keeping his eyes on your relaxed face as he spoke. Gojo smiled softly, watching him caress you. "Yeah yeah, you pervert, anytime." He responded, ruffling the other man's hair.

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azulhood · 1 month

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Danny was tired, like 'I feel it in my bones and soul' tired. And he didn't want sleep at home because there's only so many nights, he could spend lying awake making sure his heart was beating in case his parents checked on him.

Currently he was flying aimlessly not really taking in his surroundings, but he could neither sleep while flying or fly forever. Normally he'd sleep over at Sam or Tucker's, but the Mansons had made it clear that he wasn't welcome at their house anymore and Tucker was grounded. Both would sneak him in if he asked, but he didn't want them to get in trouble for him. Which leads him to decide between his two choices, sleeping in a graveyard, or sleeping in a forest.

The graveyard was a little crowded with all the ghosts that called it home but he could probably find a quiet spot to sleep. The forest had a great view of the stars but was filled with traps from both his parents and the GIW after tracking his ecto-signature. Both options weren't appealing, but he wasn't about to chance sleeping on the roof of his house again. There were too many ghost detecting guns attached to it now. Danny sighed, graveyard it was, at least the ecto from all the shades/ghosts would hide him well enough. Decision made, now all he had to do was make his way over there. But first, where the heck was he? Danny looked around at the unfamiliar grey sky and gargoyles littered around and realized he had no clue where he was. He must have flown too far away from Amity without noticing...Again. It was really becoming a bad habit. Danny stared down at the city's inhabitants that were going home or heading to nightshifts or whatever and dreaded the long flight back to his town. And maybe it was ghost instinct, or maybe it was just his exhaustion. But his brain suggested 'What if I just possess someone?' And to him that seemed like a perfectly logical train of thought. He wouldn't control their body or anything, just sleep in their skin...That did not make it sound better at all. Before he could think twice, someone left a general store, arms filled with stuff and somehow projecting an aura of safety. The two thoughts of 'They look comfy' and 'screw it' clashed together in his head as he made the very stupid decision of performing a swan drive right into the someone. "WHAT THE-" "Don't worry, I'll be gone by morning I just need to sleep" Danny cut off the persons freakout-he should really get their name at some point- he would have explained more but the sleep gods had already done their job. This left one very confused, scared, and freaked out Batkid.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #I don't know which batkid it should be #I'm thinking Dick or maybe Stephenie #I feel like Steph would be the most chill about a ghost using her body as a sleeping bag #Cass and her just straight up adopt the tired ghost boy who talks in his sleep and says the most distressing things #Bruce didn't even have a chance #Danny is gonna be so confused when he wakes up

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sugurizz · 10 months

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(Smut/NSFW +18 - minors DNI!)

Construction worker! Toji who sees a young girl strolling around the construction site, your glossy lips shining under the beaming sunlight as your nips shyly perk from your cute top.

Construction worker! Toji who can't help but notice the outline of your pussy lips sticking out through your tiny booty shorts. His fiery glance catches your asscheecks slightly bouncing as you walk away.

Construction worker! Toji who gets all hot and bothered, not quite because of the summer heat but also because he sees you walking towards him with a tray in your hand, full of refreshing beverages with the sweetest smile someone could offer him on his exhausting shift.

Construction worker! Toji who brightens up to you as he gladly takes a drink along with his coworkers. He thanks you on behalf of the whole crew for your heartwarming kindness then he innocently asks you if he can use the toilet in your apartment for a moment, as he wipes the sweat droplets off his forehead.

You give him a shy wink as you tell him to follow you...

Construction worker! Toji who pulls you up to him by the collar of your top with one motion, telling you he'd rather taste that fresh drink off the swell of your tits.

Construction worker! Toji who has your legs spread open for him with his roughed-up fingers scissoring inside you. you shiver and pull on his arm, thighs shaking on own kitchen counter.

"Oh m-my fucking g-gosh...T-Toji!"

"Shhh princess...you need a reward for treating me so right, don't you?" He smirks at you, pulls his fingers out your pussy at once and shoves them in your already open mouth.

Construction worker! Toji who watches you go crazy on his huge cock as you beg him for a second and a third round, saying that he's stretching your pussyhole so good and that work can wait.

his warm sweaty skin flowered with beautiful scars sticks flush against yours, his thick hips plap against yours in a feral pace as he wraps his fingers around your neck.

Construction worker! Toji who has you going dumb, drooling and crying as you beg him to come over to your place again and again.

Construction worker! Toji who deliberately 'forgets' to use a condom so he floods your cunt with cum cause he wants a little brother for his child anyway...

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luveline · 5 months

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𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 | 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐥𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐧

remus’ touch after a long night prompts a tired confession (and a slew of clumsy kisses).

requested here. modern au. fem!reader, 3.6k.

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

“I'm going to bed,” Sirius mumbles, scratching at his eyes as he gets up. “Don't let her sleep in her makeup. She'll get an eye infection.”

Your eyes are getting sore, but it's hardly Remus' responsibility to make sure you wash your face tonight, nor Sirius’ to remind you. “I'm a big girl.”

Sirius sends you a smile, ignoring your chiding. “Goodnight, my loves,” he says, waving you both away as he heads out of the living room and up the stairs.

“Notice how he didn't do his dishes?” Remus asks, shifting beside you.

He's sitting as he tends to, slouched in a way that can't be good for his back in the long run but is clearly comfortable short term. His chin is on his chest, his legs kicked out under the coffee table, which is decorated by the casualties of the night. Sirius’ dinner plate, Remus’ mug, James’ rarely used handheld console. He'd been playing a cutesy farming sim before he said goodnight an hour ago. Sirius stayed to mess with James’ crops and eat a late supper. You're surprised it took him as long as it did to admit defeat.

“What time is it?” you ask.

You're laying on the sofa with your socked feet tucked behind Remus’ back, of which he's yet to complain. His elbow brushes your shin as he brings up his arm. “Nearly one in the morning, now,” he reads from his watch. “Let's go to bed too, yeah?”

“I don't want to.” You turn your face into the pillow behind your neck.

“Me neither,” Remus says, dropping his hand on your knee.

You watch another twenty minutes of TV together failing to summon the energy to stand, but the want for a glass of water grows too big. Your head throbs as you get up, offering your hands to the pretzel that is your favourite housemate.

Remus turns off the TV and lights. You lock the front door. He carries the dirty dishes to the kitchen and you fill up two glasses of water to take with you. It's all so… regular. A routine you share nearly every night, only to climb into your two separate beds.

He ushers you out of the kitchen and down the hallway with his hand behind your shoulders, his touch a phantom as you ascend the stairs.

You're silent beside the creak of the old wood, too tired to speak. Remus is similarly quiet, though he does whisper, “Watch,” when you nearly kick the box of Halloween decorations waiting to be taken up into the attic.

You leave your water on the towel box in the alcove and dance around one another in the bathroom. Sirius’ toothbrush lays on the sink still wet, but otherwise there's no signs of him.

You're feeling very, very tired. You hadn't realised how bad it was until you're putting your toothbrush in your mouth, leant up against the window sill, a slot of cold air seeping in from the dark outside. Your eyes shutter closed. The scrubbing sound of Remus brushing his teeth is almost lulling.

He swills out his mouth and washes his brush. “Here,” he says gently. You open your eyes just enough to see him beckoning you forward. “Dove, your necklace.”

“Oh. Thanks.” You turn your back to him.

His fingers are damp and cool on your skin as he unclasps your necklace. He often takes it off for you. It's one of the things you'll miss when you guys aren't living together anymore, the slow meander to his bedroom, the wood of his door jam on your cheek as you lean against it and give him a hopeful smile. Sometimes he's awake, reading a novel on his side in bed or listening to music at his desk, other times he's sleeping. On those occasions you spend too long lingering, stolen seconds spent staring at the rise and fall of his shoulder.

“Thank you,” you say as he puts your necklace in the jewellery dish. It comes out missing vowels, lips stuck together as though honeyed.

You spit pathetically in the sink, rinse your brush, and consider sitting down. “I'm tired,” you whine, wiping your lips.

“I know,” Remus says, giving you a fond nudge. “Just wash your face and get on with it.”

“You first. I'm going to nap standing up for a bit.”

He puts as much of his hair behind his ears as he can and turns on the tap. This is just as familiar as brushing your teeth together. It's not quite as bad as watching James Perfect Skin Potter wash his face with bar soap, but you have to admit that Remus’ eight-nine pence face soap hurts your heart. He washes it off, pats his face dry, and takes the small bottle of bio oil out of the medicine cabinet to pipette onto his pinky finger. “Wash your face,” he says, smoothing the oil into his scars one by one.

You shake your head. “M'gonna do it in the morning.”

“That's why your eye was swollen a few weeks ago. You know yourself you won't.”

“I might,” you say, letting out a big breath as you rub your sore eyes even sorer, “I'm too tired.”

“Can you sit up, at least?”

“No.” Remus takes you by the shoulders and forces you to sit on the edge of the bath. “Aggressive?”

“Don't fall in,” he says, cupping your cheek briefly as if to make sure you've heard.

You are hearing him, seeing him, even feeling the immensity of his touch, but you're tired, and you know you can let yourself relax completely with him. You'd be the same with James or Sirius, though neither of them could have your head feeling so dizzyingly light from a single touch as Remus can. You probably wouldn't let them persuade you into this, either, tilting your head back to watch through blurry vision as Remus soaks a cotton round in your facial oil.

“Close your eyes,” he says.

“Was that a dracula impression?”

“I command you.”

You close your eyes. The queasy feeling of oil drags against your lids as Remus wipes them, loosening the stiff tubes of mascara that coat your lashes. It's not a short process because he's very, very gentle, holding your face delicately as though you're a flower in need of coddling, and him the sun. It's the only metaphor that would ever make sense for you and Remus; he's like the sun even if it goes against every statement he's ever made about himself, or anyone else has, for that matter. People think he's a moody, sarcastic boy, and he is, but he's also a vestibule of sweetness, softness, and warmth. The kind of heat you'd only ever feel kissing your skin under the summer sun. But more than that, he's the relief that follows when the clouds come out.

And his hands are all over you. Your head gets heavier by the minute, eased into dozing by his touch and quiet tones. “We're almost done. I'm gonna have to carry you to bed at this rate.”

“I'm going to miss this so much one day,” you say. It's easier to admit when you're not looking at him.

Remus turns on the tap. Hot water runs, you can tell by the sound as strange as it seems, and he wrings the dirtied cotton round before replacing it with a new one. He wets it, bringing it just that touch too hot to your cheeks to wipe you down. “What are you going to miss, dove?”

“Us. You. I'm going to miss you.”

“Where are you going?”

“Nowhere, but one day I will be. James will finally have had enough of us and I'll,” —you swallow around nothing as a rivulet of water runs down your cheek, a cooling tear from the cotton round— “have to move out and we'll never see each other anymore.”

“Don't be silly, you're not going anywhere.”

“It's not about the going,” you murmur, peeling your eyes open tentatively as his dabbing follows down your cheek to your neck. “I miss you sometimes and we still live together. I can't imagine how much I'll miss you…”

Remus puts the cotton round aside. He takes your face into his hand, and suddenly his touch feels raw, nothing like it had moments ago. Because Remus would wash your makeup off for you any day of the week, but his looking at you like this, so unshielded and unabashed, is a rarity.

“You won't have to miss me. Even if we did move away from each other, I wouldn't let it be that far.”

“Friends move away all the time. We don't speak to half the people we knew at school.”

“I only really knew you and the boys,” he says. It isn't true but it is at the same time. Together, you'd been a happy lot, but your current housemates are the ones you'd known. “And see? We're still together.”

“But for how long?” you ask.

Remus brings his second hand, holding your face entirely. He covers your cheeks, index fingers sliding slowly under your ears. He's exceedingly gentle, and his eyes are soft. He holds you like you're made of glass, like you could break under a hint of pressure. Slowly, he tilts his head to the side as though he might lean in for a kiss. Maybe he doesn't know he's doing it, but Remus is a very purposeful soul. He'd do much worse to wind you up if you wanted him to.

You sober up. It's like he has caffeine in his palms.

“You want to go where I'm going, is that it?” he asks quietly.

“Yeah,” you say, barely say, voice shame-facedly weak. Is he asking what you think he is?

“Do you want to start now?”

You breathe out as one of his hands shifts down your jaw. “Yeah, I… I want to start now.”

“Okay, dove. Then close your eyes again.”

You hold his gaze for a second that feels infinitely long and short at once, your heart racing. Clarity has returned, a thrust into wakefulness even if your fatigue ties knots around your ankles. You look at him in his late night glory, his scars shining a pink-white like the petals of a young peony flower, and you know it's happening now.

You shut your eyes.

He steps closer, though the bath you're perched on is low, and he has to bend a considerable amount to reach you. The weight of his hands on you doesn't change, not even as he grows near enough to sense the heat of his breath against your lips. It's his nose that makes first contact as it slides against yours, and then his forehead presses down into you, his lips noticeably absent. Each contiguity between you thrums.

A pit opens in your chest, cleaved by his voice as he says, “I'm going to kiss you, okay? S'that what you want?”

Your hands don't feel like your own. Under the sickening nervousness twining its way through your ribs, you're excited. You're smiling, your voice shaped by it. “Yeah. It's what I want,” you say.

“Good. It's what I've wanted for a while–” while pressed into your lips, all shaken up by an emotion you've never heard him speak with. He kisses you and you're frozen, and he waits and waits and pulls away to push back in. You remember yourself then, responding to his wading with some pressure of your own. Sparked back to life.

It's so strange. It doesn't feel real. Remus Lupin kisses you heated and hard for just long enough to feel it in your teeth before he pulls away. “Sorry,” he murmurs, his fingertip running down your cheek, following that same path as your earlier rivulet. To think he saw it, really saw it, locked it away to remember and trace into your skin now… maybe he's seen much more of you than you realised all along.

“Will you do it again?” you say under your breath.

Remus must hear the thread of insecurity running through your question; you're afraid he'll say no, but he strokes your cheek again with that unfathomable softness and says, “Yeah, dove, of course I will.”

“Do you want to?”

And that's less insecurity and more selfishness, wanting the confession. He hears that, too.

“I want to kiss you more than I've ever wanted anything,” he says, eye to eye with you, your head tipped up and your heart in your throat, twitching and fizzling like a firecracker. “Yeah? And all that missing me you've been doing? All your worrying? You don't need to do that. You've never needed to do that–”

“I just never thought you liked me like that.” You and Remus aren't new to one another. “You've been the same since the day we met.”

Remus’ hands get a little more solid where he's holding you. “Dove. Dove, are you mad?”

“Remus–”

“Maybe I have been the same, but did you really not notice that I–” He squeezes your cheeks playfully, almost in disbelief. “If you want me, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere without you. You're not going anywhere without me.”

“So you like me?”

“Yes,” he says, his eyebrows pinched together at the starts. “Of course I do.” He laughs. “That's what I'm trying to tell you.”

“Oh,” you say, lifting your head.

Remus shuts his eyes a millisecond before you shut your own and kisses you again. The second round is softer, his smile to yours and struggling to find purchase. His breath huffs out in a minty laugh, shockwaves through your mouth.

“Stop laughing,” he breathes, his hands falling to your neck, your shoulders.

“You first.”

Your lips part under his, a split-second of contact. He yanks away before things can get too heavy, and you're glad he does, but for a moment you feel the loss like a wave of vertigo.

“Sorry, I'm going too fast, and you're tired.” His touch is ticklish behind your shoulder.

“It's okay. Maybe it is a bit fast, but I'm not tired anymore,” you confess.

Remus hugs you, cementing every feeling for him you have as he wraps his arms around you from over your shoulders, a deft hand cupped behind your neck. “That's not true. I can feel your back shaking. Let's go to bed.”

“After that?”

“What, are you worried it won't have happened in the morning?” he asks genuinely.

You go limp in his arms as he takes your weight against his chest. Not worried, but rather not sure you can be away from him so soon. You ask him in a whisper if you can come and sit with him, not to sleep with him, not to do anything else, and he whispers back, Anything you want. You both entertain the lie that you won't fall asleep in his bed.

—

Remus tenses as he hears the scuffling sounds of movement downstairs. It takes a train of thought awakening for him to realise it's only James, rising early as usual to put on a load of washing and prepare bits for lunch before he goes off for training. He can see him in his mind's eye if he tries, his friend dressed in the red and white rugby uniform, green socks up over his calves and white cleats scrubbed pristine for another ruck in the mud.

Remus’ relaxes, stretching out in bed until his hand bumps into something rigid.

He flinches.

You're laying on the mattress beside him, your head slipped off of the pillows and your arm tucked beneath you. It doesn't look comfortable, and if it were any other morning he'd pull it straight for you, but.

I kissed you, he thinks to himself, as though talking to you. He turns away from you until his back clicks and alleviates the ache in his hips, though he has to settle eventually, back on his back, no way of ignoring you. He doesn't want to ignore you. The opposite —why are you so far away? Can he hold you?

What are the rules here?

Kissing… not dating… You're here in his bed, you'd asked to stay.

He takes your hand and pulls at your arm. Still sleeping, you mumble and move onto your back, releasing the pressure on your shoulder as he pulls you toward his chest. Your face is impassive, lax in sleep.

He should let you sleep.

“Dove,” he says, stroking up the length of your arm.

“Mm?” you hum.

“I need to ask you something.”

You twitch awake with a small cough. Your eyes are red with a lack of sleep as you open them, blinking, and he wishes stupidly that he could make it better. He makes a sympathetic sound for want of more to do.

“Why have you woken me up?” you ask, blinking at him. You gather that there's nothing urgent happening and push your face into his shoulder, practically nuzzling him. “It's Saturday.”

“I just need to ask you something.”

“So ask me,” you encourage through your sleepiness.

The washing machine whirs downstairs. It’s an old machine that you often joke is taking off into orbit during the final spin, loud as anything. He can barely hear your sluggish breathing underneath it, but he can't miss the catch in it after he asks, “Can I be your boyfriend?”

It's not the catch he's expecting. You laugh and readjust, wrapping your arms around him from the side and kissing the side of his neck clumsily. “Y'u asked me last night,” you say in a borderless run-on, sounding about as dopily in love as he's ever heard you.

He thinks about it. Yes, he did, after he'd kissed you many more times than he should've and curled up in bed with you, hands held loosely beneath the blankets. He remembers the question, the answer. The last kiss that followed, and you falling asleep beside him.

“I need a coffee,” he says, encouraging your head back so he can kiss your temple.

“No, you need to sleep more with me. And maybe kiss me again. If you want to.”

Sleeping isn't half as interesting as kissing you. He slots his nose against yours and languishes in the feeling of your lips, wondering if he's having a false start. He could still be dreaming. It would make sense.

The door clatters open with a curse. James stands in the doorway with a folded pile of Remus' washing from the radiators in his arms, an apology on his lips, “Sorry, mate, the door got away from– oh my god. Oh my god?”

Remus isn't an overly shy guy but he can't deal with this. “For fuck's sake,” he mutters, dropping his face into your shoulder. Your arm wraps under his neck, fingers splayed across his cheek.

“James–” you begin, resigned to your fate.

“This is flat-cest. This is the cardinal sin.”

“We don't live in a flat,” Remus says.

“That makes it worse. You can't even blame close quarters.” Remus peeks up to watch James in the doorway, still clinging to Remus’ washing, pure shock curdling his features. He shakes his head. “I'm telling Sirius.”

“Please don't!” you say.

You slump back into the pillows as James leaves anyways.

Remus hugs your soft abdomen. “Don't worry,” he says.

“I guess it's a good thing you've already asked me out,” you say.

“Why, what can they do?” Remus asks, wondering if he's allowed to put his face on your chest or if that's too forward. You rake a hand through his hair and encourage him forward, to his delight.

Frantic words. You and Remus loved up in bed despite it.

“I'm chucking them out!”

“James, they've been seeing for weeks. Can I go back to sleep?”

“What?!”

You grumble into his hair. “That's not even true… Does everyone know, then? That I liked you?”

Remus thinks of the shadow of you in the doorway, that sheepish smile you send his way before you ask him to unclasp your necklace before bed, or your face as he’d wiped the sooty stain of mascara from your cheek last night, half in love with him as you fell asleep in his palm.

“I don't think so, lovely,” he comforts. “Don't worry about it. We'll clear it up at lunch time. James isn't even mad, he's just sulking thinking we didn't tell him.”

“How could you not tell me?” James asks on cue, rounding the door again, arms ever tighter around the bundle of Remus’ clothes. He assumes it's being kept hostage. “I thought we were best mates.”

“James,” you say softly, all sympathy.

Remus likes the feeling of your voice under his ear, and your slightly too-quick heartbeat. He could fall asleep here and now if it weren't for the company.

“It's new,” you're saying, softness melded to a sweet pride. “Okay? I've barely told Remus how I feel, of course I was going to tell you. We were only talking about it last night. It really hasn't been weeks, Sirius is a stirrer.”

Remus pulls the covers up over your heads and climbs on top of you in a rush, demanding that the both of you be left alone, to James’ great annoyance but your delight, your laughter loud in the shell of his ear. Your chest shakes with it beneath him.

A great wad of fabric hits him in the legs. “Twats,” James says, seemingly stalking off.

Your whisper sends shivers down his spine. “We're alone again. Do you have anything else to ask me while you're too tired to remember?” you tease.

There's not a chance in the world that Remus would ever forget this.

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

thanks for reading!! I really hope you enjoyed, it's been a little bit since I wrote for remus like this so I was actually a bit nervous and I hope it's okay :D <3

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #marauders era #remus x reader #remus x you #marauders #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin blurb #marauders x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #the marauders

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feyascorner · 3 months

Note

Okay perhaps this sounds odd but imagine Astarion starts to disassociate while intimate with Tav and so he uses their established safe word, only to be bewildered when Tav actually listens to him and stops and asks if he’s okay and tries to comfort him because nobody has cared that much before 😢

OH GODS WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME (i love it) warning for suggestive content :)

For as long as Astarion's been genuinely intimate with you, for no other reasons but simply because of the affection the two of you hold for one another, he has always been in control.

It soothes him, in a way, to be on top. And as much as he enjoys watching you come undone beneath him, there's a more frustrating reason behind why he always feels the need to be the one to push you down onto whatever surface he deems decent enough at the time. From above you, he can see every little twitch in your body, every shift in your expression, and most of all, he can control what's happening, unlike his centuries spent as a seductive tool for Cazador's own needs.

He knows you're not like those fools. He knows you're different, and you're special to him. But the gnawing voice in the back of his head always forces him to pull you in, to hold you closer, to make love to you.

It's fucked up in so many ways.

"I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel."

But when you look up at him with those imploring, loving eyes, the voice seems to go quiet. He swallows the dryness of his throat, unable to think of anything but how wonderful your touch feels on his skin, and he thinks he could drown in this forever. He's putty in your hands, whether he wants to admit it or not.

"Well? Don't be a tease just standing there, darling."

In what feels like minutes, he's a mess. He's making sounds he shouldn't be making, fingertips digging into your hips as if they're the anchors keeping him from finishing too early. He breathes heavily into the crook of your neck, groaning when you caress the sharp tip of his ear between your fingers.

The only thing keeping him from spilling is the impending embarrassment he'd feel for doing so this early on in the night.

Then, everything stops.

"You're so beautiful," you whisper.

They're only words. They're not ones he's heard little of---in fact, he's heard it too much in the past two hundred years. In an instant, memories of the nights he spent under strangers, forced to shove his mind into its darkest corners just to get through their own pleasures, flood his consciousness. The sickening taste in his mouth afterward, and the need to rub his skin till it goes raw were not uncommon. It was routine. A sick part of his life that he'd rather forget.

You don't mean it the same way they did. They only said things like that because that's all they could say. They didn't know him as anything but the husk of a body he resided in. He knows you are saying the words to him. Not to his body but to the very person he is.

But the word comes spilling out his mouth, and immediately, you freeze.

You actually stopped.

Of course, you would. You're you.

"Are you okay? Did I do something?" you reach to cup either of his cheeks, and he stares at you as if you're a star that's fallen from the sky. He blinks, slowly.

"I don't know, I just---" he searches for words. "--you haven't done anything wrong, darling."

You wait for him to finish patiently. Gods, he doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve you.

"I only remembered something I'd rather not," he plasters a crooked grin on his face. "It's quite alright. We can continue now if I haven't ruined the mood."

You pull away from him, and he fears you'll leave.

Moments later, you return with a glass of water. Wordlessly, you hand it to him, and he only stares at it, confused beyond belief. Only once he notices the way you gesture to the glass does he drink it, and you finally climb back into bed, lying down beside him.

"Come here," you open your arm, motioning him to come closer.

"Darling, as much as I'm all for experimenting, that's a strange position to have sex in."

You smile, shaking your head. You don't explain any further, only continuing to hold out your arm.

Hesitant though curious, he slowly lies down beside you, his head just above your chest and slotted between the space below your chin. With gentle hands, you pull him closer and toss the blanket over both of your bodies.

It's warm. Strange, but warm.

"You don't have to wear a mask with me," you whisper.

His eyes grow wide, and his chest stills. He doesn't have many tears left after 239 years, but there's an unfamiliar squeeze in his chest that tells him if he were still 39 and alive, he might have. Astarion wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face into where he can hear the steady beating of your heart.

Later, when your eyes begin to droop, he mumbles.

"Tell me I'm beautiful again."

"You're beautiful," you say softly. "With or without your pretty face."

You might be imagining it, but you feel him smile against your skin.

#astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion #bg3 x reader #bg3 #fluff

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shotmrmiller · 3 months

Text

i'll teach you love, don't worry.

simon x virgin f!reader 2.2k words oops

explicit smut mdni

cbf!simon teaches you everything.

he convinces you to let him be your first kiss. "don't ya wanna know how to kiss when finally get your first boyfriend?"

embarrassing, because you're in college yet still completely inexperienced.

when you bite your lip and give a subtle nod of agreement, a sly smirk graces his lips.

"don't worry love, i'll teach you."

the way he slowly slanted his lips over yours, his tongue gently sliding into your mouth, his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip before pulling away— breaths mingling as he rested his forehead against yours after the searing kiss had your knees weak. if it wasn't for him holding your body up, you would've crumpled to the ground.

cbf!simon convinces you to let him teach you how to masturbate. (and kinda eats you out.)

"ya gotta learn your own body first before letting anyone else touch ya."

when you bring up the fact that he'd be touching you for this, simon just said, "yeah, but i'm not jus' anyone, am i love?"

kneeling on the edge of your bed, his warm breath fanned over your bare cunt as he spoke. "ya wanna use the pads of your fingers to touch the little nub tha' peeks out from under your hood." doing as he said, you flinch at the sensitivity of it. "you're just not used to it, is all, you're alrigh'. now, i want you to start drawin' small circles on your clit."

when he sees you wince, he quickly grabs your wrist and pulls your hand away. "oh. you jus' need a bit of lubrication, love. if you'd let me, i can help ya with tha'."

the word yes is scarcely past your lips when he's grabbing onto the supple underside of your widened thighs, gently urging you to lean back— arms instinctively supporting your weight behind you.

he leans forward until his mouth is inches from your cunt, and spits directly on it— the warmth of his saliva on your sensitive bundle of nerves makes your toes curl in response.

he tells you to touch yourself again. "use my spit to rub your clit again, it'll feel much better, i promise."

simon's face remained firmly nestled between your legs, so you would occasionally feel the bristly texture of his stubble grazing your fingers.

each little circle you drew on your slippery bud had the warmth in your lower belly get hotter, your limbs beginning to tighten along with the coil in your stomach. it's a euphoric pleasure that begins to build up, and up, and up. there's an obscene slick noise coming from underneath your fingertips, your thighs are shaking in simon's firm grip, spine curving and toes curling.

you're whimpering and panting, mouth slightly open, head thrown back whatever is happening inside of you. what you do know is that it feels like a rollercoaster and you're starting to reach the peak in the track.

you can feel your core throbbing, pulsing, clenching. your stomach is now painfully tight—

suddenly, your forearm begins to cramp— rapidly.

a pained yet aggravated noise slips from your mouth, and you slump back on the bed to flex your arm— stretching the ligament furiously because you have to stop your pleasure when there's a hot, slippery something in between your puffy folds, flicking at your aching clit and it does it again, and again, and again...

then you feel a suction on your pearl— you're pushed past a threshold you hadn't even known you'd hit.

all of your body's tension just floods out— you're plunged into a pool of blinding ecstasy.

you're letting out choked gasps as your spine tingles in bliss— it's a massive release of emotions, of stress, of responsibility, if only for a few seconds.

you lay in the aftershocks of your climax, limp yet you've never felt more rejuvenated in your life. there's a buzzing in your ears that fades as your soul comes back into your body, and you notice that there are still two rough hands on your quivering thighs— kneading them like a cat.

simon presses a wet kiss to your inner thigh, and you jerk away when his facial hair prickles your delicate skin.

"tha' must've been somethin' else, eh? years of repressed—" You swing a sluggish hand at his head to make him stop talking, and when it connects, he returns the favor with a harsh suckle to your thigh.

"don't make me bite you, pet," he gently warns.

you grunt, then go through what just happened in your head.

"simon. did you use your mouth on me?"

he bites your leg in response.

cbf!simon teaches you how to give oral sex (per your request)

he all but ripped his trousers off, eager to get started. simon tells you to kneel on the pillow and find yourself face-to-face with his manhood.

it's fucking huge, there's no other way to put it. he's long, an easy 8 inches— he's so thick you can't wrap your hand completely around it.

jesus.

"look at me, pet," he commands.

you look up at him through your lashes, and he's dropping his head forward— covering his eyes, mumbling out a 'fuckin' hell'.

he takes a second to gather his wits, and then lifts his head again, to lock eyes with you.

"there is no wrong way t'do this, y'hear? the most important thing is tha' you enjoy it too. otherwise, i won't be enjoying it either, alright? now, personally, i like a little twinge of pain. so don't be afraid to graze your teeth on my cock, yeah?"

you nod and begin exploring.

the tip of your tongue licks at his glistening slit, pulling a hiss from simon. he tastes slightly salty, and something uniquely him, delicious. you pump his length with your fist, bunching up the skin on the upstroke under his flared head, then pulling down until you hit the base.

simon remains patient, never rushing you to take him into your mouth, or thrusting his hips toward your face. when you flick your eyes up at him, his dark eyes are glassy, outlined by long, straight lashes— heavy-lidded with lust. his crooked nose is stained with a tinge of pink, the same color as his bitten lips.

he's holding himself perfectly still for you, so you grant him respite. you put the entire tip into your mouth. simon lets out a strangled moan and immediately moves his hand to tangle in your hair.

you remember some of the bad porno videos and imitate what they did. you tease the bottom of his cock with the tip of your tongue, tracing the connective tissue that's right under his head. then you take him in further until he reaches the back of your throat, and the sensation makes you gag, forcing you to pull back.

there's a string of saliva connecting you two when he slips out of your mouth, and you close your eyes to breathe in through your nose. simon runs his fingers through your hair wordlessly, only speaking once you're ready to try this again.

"there's no need to take me in tha' deep, i could come from jus' your pretty lips 'round the tip alone."

you take in one more deep, calming breath before putting him in your mouth again and start bobbing your head. the groans that spill from simon's mouth invigorate you to keep going even as your jaw begins to ache, and your blowjob turns sloppy. there's saliva all over his trimmed pubic hair— your chin is slick with it too. you're drooling all over the hand that's wrapped around his base, and just when you are about to stop, simon begins to babble.

"fuck, fuckfuckfuck i'm so close please don't stop please please, fuck your mouth feels like heaven, god i've been wantin’ to do this with ya f'so long and it's finally happenin', fuck don't," he moans, "don't fucking stop, fuck, fuck—"

his cock swells in your mouth to what feels like an impossible size, one you can't handle so your jaw slackens. the edges of your teeth scrape along his rigid length. his upper body curls forward and lets out a long, guttural moan as he comes— cock twitching violently as he spurts thick, warm, ropes of cum on your tongue. it's so much that it begins to spill from the corners of your mouth, dripping down to your chin.

simon's panting harshly, his breath hitting your face when he swallows thickly, then tips your head up with an unsteady hand.

his voice is hoarse when he asks, "d'you swallow it?"

you keep your eyes locked on his as you do, then stick your tongue out of your mouth to show him. simon's gaze fixates on the display before pulling you in as he firmly grasps the back of your head and draws a tantalizing line across your tongue with his own.

later, you tell him to drink more water.

cbf!simon teaches you what it's like to be his (you've been his, why do you think the idiot that you met at the mall ghosted you?)

you're swollen and slick after the 4 orgasms simon gave you with his mouth and are more than ready to take him. it doesn't mean you aren't nervous about it.

"don't worry, love. i'll teach you what real pleasure is," and starts to slowly sink into your virginal channel. it's an uncomfortable feeling, and you can feel yourself trying to push the invader out.

"need ya to relax f'me, pet. the more ya resist, the more pain you'll feel. jus' give in, i've got ya," he coos. you nod into his neck and breathe in, letting your muscles go slack, and like a stone dropping into water, simon sinks to the hilt.

the sensation is too much, you feel too full, so you try to squirm away from under him, but he tilts your head back by the hair to give you a passionate kiss.

you experimentally move your hips and the delicious sensation that licks up your spine has you moaning in his mouth. simon pulls away, throws one leg over his arm, and starts to move.

his thrusts are complete, pulling out until only the tip is buried in your tender walls, and pushes until his balls are flush against your sweaty skin— the tip of his head softly pressed against the entrance of your womb.

simon suddenly changes positions, hooking your other leg over his arm, and begins to shallowly thrust halfway— hitting the sweet spot you didn't know you had until a couple of weeks ago.

he pushes into it with such precision that your vision is white behind your eyelids, and there isn't one coherent thought in your empty head.

"i've been dreamin' to put tha’ cock-drunk look on your face f'years," simon hums, "it's somethin' tha' i'll never forget. now give me what's mine, yeah?" and his hips begin to move with ardour. every drag of his thick cock is pushing you to one last mind-numbing orgasm, and simon knows it because he picks up the pace— he's relentless in his pursuit of your climax, almost as if it was his own. when your channel begins to flutter around him, he hisses through his teeth and looks down at where he disappears inside of you.

there are strings of sticky arousal that connect from your puffy lips to his pubic hair, the sounds your cunt makes are obscene, creamy, wet—

words fall from his lips unbidden.

"come around my cock, squeeze me with your tight cunt, fuck, ya feel so fuckin' good, c'mon baby, give it to me, c'mon baby, c'monbabyc'monbaby—"

you choke back a sob as you're slammed by an all-encompassing avalanche of bliss, nails digging into simon's shoulders as you milk his cock for all he's worth.

all of your senses are focused on the feel of simon pistoning into your abused hole, looking for his release. he fucks you straight through your peak, an incredible show of stamina until you're teetering on the brink of oversensitivity.

as you come down from your high, simon moves your legs that were dangling by his side, hooking them over his shoulders, changing the angle— hitting so much deeper than before.

it feels like his cock is rearranging your guts, and if you looked at your stomach, you'd see a lewd bulge in it. you're not sure how much more of him you can take, your nerves feel raw, exposed— but you hold on because the noises simon is making are something you've never heard before. those high-pitched moans are driving you insane. you honestly feel like you could come from them alone, but then his thrusts turn sloppy. after three brutal, spine-jarring thrusts, he finally stiffens.

his cock is twitching inside of you as he spills his essence, not bothering to pull out, mumbling softly about getting you a morning-after pill tomorrow.

simon gently removes himself from within you, dropping his heavy weight to your side with an oof, and drawing your overheated body towards him. the air in the room is thick and heavy— it smells of sweat and sex. the only sound that breaks the silence is the sound of your labored breathing until you whisper that you have to go to the bathroom.

he quickly gets up and carries you to it, then closes the door behind him.

simon spots the blood stain on his bed and is over the fucking moon.

he's your first and will make sure to be your last.

for my 🪐

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x f reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #cod smut #ghost smut #simon riley smut

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bucketsofmonsters · 4 months

Text

A Diplomatic Error

cw: enemies to lovers, kidnapping, being tied up, manhandling, size difference, non-human genitalia, oral sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex

male orc x fem reader

Word count: 9k

You were headed to another counsel meeting. You never really stopped attending them, despite the fact that they never listened to a word you had to say.

Your father said it was good for morale. You didn’t understand how watching someone sit around and not help was good for anyone’s morale, but you knew better than to question him.

The halls of the palace were quieter than you were used to. Almost everyone had been called to the front lines, even your closest guards had gone. You weren’t used to walking alone, nor were you accustomed to the typically lively castle looking like a ghost town.

So now you walked through the castle halls, more alone than you’d ever been before, no one there to wait on you, to protect you, to watch over you. Something in you said it should have felt freeing.

It didn’t. It just felt lonely.

As you walked, moving slowly as you wallowed in self-indulgent pity between war meetings, a pair of hands reached out of nowhere, one snaking around your waist to pull you back into the shadows while the other clamped firmly over your mouth.

When the guards had been sent away, you’d been assured that you’d be safe. It wouldn’t exactly be easy for a hulking orc to sneak in undetected. At least that's what you'd been told. With a massive hand that dwarfed your face locked over your mouth, suddenly the idea didn’t seem so ridiculous.

You thrashed under the figure's unwavering grip to no avail. He easily held you in place, barely needing to put any effort in to stop your desperate bid for an escape.

You weren’t one for swooning but suddenly a faintness came over you. You reached up to grab at the only stable thing in reach, hands wrapping around the figure’s arm, trying to keep yourself upright.

Your knees began to buckle and only then, mind slowed by whatever he’d dosed you with, did you begin to suspect foul play. Maybe something on his skin that humans were weak to, maybe something in the air. Was he holding a cloth? You didn’t think so. But then again, he seemed so far away not, even pressed up against you as he was.

You blinked your heavy eyes and when you opened them, you were thrown over a large shoulder. You watched the road behind you as the creature holding you strode along, still blind to what was ahead. His hand was wrapped around your waist, keeping you firmly in place, jostling you only slightly with each step.

It took you a second to gather your bearings enough to start struggling. Once you did, you started pounding on his back. It was a futile gesture but you were nothing if not persistent. At the very least, he knew you were awake now.

His shoulder shook under you as he chuckled. “Good morning, princess,” he said, his gravelly voice carrying across the road.

“Put me down, you brute!” you shouted, trying your best to kick your feet under heavy skirts. If you'd known you'd be getting kidnapped today, you'd have worn something lighter.

He paused and for a moment you thought maybe he'd listen to you. But you knew better than that, knew you'd have no say in any of this.

“As you wish.”

Your feet were planted on the ground, although he still had a heavy arm on your shoulder, holding you in place. A silent promise: you weren't going anywhere.

You whipped around, eager to see what was in front of you instead of the increasingly distant road you'd been traveling on.

You got your first look at the front of your captor, no longer flung over his shoulder.

Despite it being part of the little information you already knew about him, the first thing you noticed was that he was massive. He towered over you, with a broad frame to match. Tusks stuck out of his mouth as he sneered down at you, marring an almost handsome face.

You’d never actually seen an orc in person and despite years of being at war with them, it struck you suddenly that they were real. They were real and in front of you, no longer threatening figures discussed in crowded rooms you weren’t supposed to speak in but instead a real man in front of you with his hand on your arm. It radiated warmth, applying a firm pressure that told you if he wanted to he could crush you underhand.

In front of you, next to your very real captor, was a camp. The sort of camp you imagined soldiers slept in. You had no idea which side of the border you were on, disputed or otherwise. You hoped you were still in your own kingdom, but you had no way to know. It all looked the same from here.

Amidst the massive canvas tents milled a dozen or so orcs. At your sudden appearance, they’d stopped what they were doing, all peering at their new guest.

As they all stared at you, you panicked. Your feet started moving before your brain did. You managed to slip out from under your captor's grasp just in time to feel his hand dart forward, pushing you into the mud before you had a chance to get anywhere.

As you lay in the dirt, you heard something that sounded like orders being barked in a foreign tongue.

And then you were being hauled to your feet. You didn’t have the presence of mind to be upset at the manhandling as you looked down at your body, the front of you almost completely covered in mud.

You didn’t even have time to protest that before he cut you off. “Come on, m’lady. We have much to discuss.”

You crossed your arms, about to demand more respect from him before you were being lifted again and all you could manage was a surprised little squeak.

You watched helplessly as you were hauled into a nearby tent, all of the towering soldiers staring at you as you went.

You were deposited less than graciously on the floor of the tent, left to flounder and find your bearing on your own as your captor moved to look at you.

The tents were incredibly spacious, at least for someone of your size, the roof towering above you.

He leaned down in front of you, tone condescending as he spoke. “Here’s what's going to happen. You’re a bargaining chip for us. We’ll get you home as soon as your father allows it, princess.” He said your title like an insult, spat it at you in a way that made you flinch.

“And in the meantime?” you asked, trying your best not to look afraid. You'd make your way out of this with your pride intact. Well, as much of your pride as you could still manage to salvage as you stood there, covered in mud.

You could barely see the deep red of your dress under the grime. You didn’t even know how much of it was from your fall and how much you’d picked up on the road.

“In the meantime,” he said, “you will sit around until we need you.”

“Perfect.” You stood, futilely attempting to brush off your skirts as you did and taking a step towards the entrance of the tent. “Well, I should go find a place to rest until I am needed.” It was a long shot but you at least had to try.

Your captor followed you as you backed slowly out of the tent. “I don’t think you understand what’s going on here.”

“What’s the harm in it? Where do you think I’m going to go?” you shouted, gesturing around you at the thick woods. “If I had a death wish, there are far better ways to satisfy it than getting lost in the forest. Attempting to kill you, perhaps.”

He nodded. “It would be more honorable, to die in combat against me.”

You groaned. “Yeah, sure, that’s what I meant. It’d be so honorable of me. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go find somewhere to rest, maybe even clean myself.”

You managed to make it about two steps before his arm wrapped around your waist, lifting you as if you were a ragdoll.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

The words were hissed into your ear as he walked. You thrashed in his grip but it didn’t matter, he hauled you along just as easily.

You were thrown into a new tent next to a massive wooden pole, staked into the ground in the center.

He leaned down next to you, grabbing your arm, easily resisting your attempt to pull it away from him. As he easily held your wrists in one hand, the other reached back to pull out a length of rope. His hands were surprisingly nimble, threading rope around your wrists and securing you to the pole at the center of the tent with little difficulty.

When he let his hands get a little too close to your face, you bit them as hard as you could, locking your jaw down on him. There wasn’t any strategy behind it, you couldn’t escape or go anywhere, but the way he hissed and yanked his arm back filled you with a little bit of self-satisfaction. That had to be worth something.

He didn’t stick around long after. It seemed you had managed to piss him off at some stage in the kidnapping process. You couldn’t imagine when.

Your first night in the orc camp was spent restlessly, pulling futilely at your bindings as you sat there on the floor. You tried not to wallow in your misery. This wouldn’t be forever. Your father would get you out of here, one way or another. Until then, you could put on a brave face.

As the sun began to rise, the orcs’ curiosity in you seemed to reawaken.

Occasionally a soldier would peek in the entrance of the tent, never for more than a few seconds, or you would see them silhouetted against the canvas, hovering nearby. When you got particularly frustrated you’d shout at them, the snorts of laughter your yelling drew from them only making you angrier.

But anger was good. At least anger felt productive.

You’d become accustomed enough to the curiosity of the soldiers that at first, when your captor returned, you didn’t notice it was him. It was only when he strode towards you and began to undo your bindings that you realized who he was.

The second your bindings were undone, you made a break for it. You didn’t make it far. Your captor held you by your ankle, dangling you upside down, your various muddied skirt layers falling to cover your face as you struggled.

“This will be easier for you if you behave,” he said, and you could hear a layer of irritation in his voice.

You would've spat in his face if there weren't layers of fabric hanging in front of you.

His attempts to right you were thwarted by your thrashing until you figured out what he was trying to do and attempted to still yourself as much as you could, if only to get your feet on the ground again.

“We’re moving,” he said as you steadied yourself when returned back to solid ground. “I can carry you or you can walk.”

You opted to walk, both to preserve your dignity and to attempt to plan an escape.

The soldiers were shockingly efficient, completely packing up the camp faster than you’d imagined possible.

And then you were on the move.

You had to move swiftly to keep up with them, none of the soldiers willing to slow for you.

Your captor stayed diligently by your side, occasionally shooting you looks that seemed intended to tell you you had no chance of escape. You ignored him.

After about an hour of moving quietly, out of breath from all the walking, he was the one to break the silence.

“You’re slow.”

“Your legs are longer than mine. Besides, it's hard to walk when you’re covered in filth” you said, struggling under stiff, heavy skirts.

“And who is to blame for that?”

You gave him a pointed look. “In fact, I think you’ll find that you are.”

“You shouldn’t have run,” he said with a grunt.

“You shouldn’t have pushed me!”

He rolled his eyes and then you were being hauled off the ground again. You yelped in protest but were quietly a little grateful as he sat you on his shoulder. If you had to keep moving at their pace all day, dressed as you were, you might’ve passed out.

It wasn’t your fault you couldn’t keep up with a well-trained group of soliders. If anything, they should be impressed you managed to keep pace as long as you did.

Your hand rested on his other shoulder as he moved, trying to keep yourself steady, but realistically, you knew he wouldn’t let you fall, his arm holding you easily in place. You were just glad you were being allowed to sit this time instead of being thrown around like a sack of potatoes.

You spent the rest of the day like that, sitting on his shoulder as they traveled. As the sun began to set and the others began to set up camp, you expected to be set down.

It seemed you were wrong.

Instead of placing you on the ground or even tying you up again, he began to pace off in the opposite direction of the rest of the camp.

Nerves began to take over you. He may have said nothing would happen to you, but you did not relish in the thought of being alone with him, let alone him intentionally dragging you away from the rest of his compatriots.

You began to squirm again and his arm tightened, holding you in place. “Settle,” he said, his voice low and calm.

You did not listen.

Eventually, he did set you down, although you did not think your thrashing encouraged him to do so.

As he did, you noticed the sound of a swift-moving river just behind you.

He nudged you towards the river. “Clean. You’re too slow.”

“What?”

“You wanted to be clean,” he said, nudging you again. "You should clean”

“It’s a river.”

He looked at you like he was worried you’d hit your head. “It is.”

“And you expect me to wash in there? It’s full of dirt!”

He chuckled and you considered biting him again. “You’ll survive, princess.”

You groaned but decided that anything was better than the mud you were caked in. It was running water, at the very least. You weren’t certain why, but it did feel a little cleaner that way.

You considered bathing fully clothed but you’d heard too many stories of women drowning, weighed down by layers of dresses.

You began to pull at your dress, stripping off some of the upper layers, glaring at your captor as you did. It was too much to ask to be left alone, you knew that much, but it was still humiliating to get undressed in front of him like this.

You only took off as many layers as you needed to ensure you wouldn’t drown. You were almost fully covered but still, you felt exposed.

At the very least, he seemed largely disinterested in what you were doing, only sparing you the occasional glance.

You covered your chest as you moved towards the water. He looked down at you as you did, head cocked to the side. “What are you doing?”

“The skirts are heavy, I can’t wear them in the water or I could drown.”

He scoffed. “Little weakling. That’s not what I asked though, why do you hide? You’re covered.”

“I’m being forced to strip to my underwear, of course I’m covering myself.”

He stared back, clearly still confused, and you realized as you looked at him that the idea of being properly dressed was probably not the same for him. He was covered, but largely in leathers and furs, with far more skin exposed than you would ever have, even now in your underskirts.

“Listen,” you said, trying not to be too antagonistic, as it seemed he was truly trying to understand. “It’s different for us. Especially for me, I’m supposed to be covered perfectly at all times. Maybe you should give me new clothes.”

“Why would I do that?” he asked dismissively.

Any patience you’d been trying to put on for him snapped. “Sorry, I forgot you’re a heartless brute, I don’t know why I asked.”

And with that, you stormed off into freezing cold water.

The mud caking your skin began to wash off as soon as you touched the water and you let out a sigh of relief. The river looked to be snow runoff from a nearby mountain, it certainly felt cold enough for it, but for now all you wanted was to be clean.

You looked down as you scrubbed at your skin and your skirts and as you did, you realized the whites of your underthings had become translucent in the freezing water.

You turned and caught him staring, both looking away as soon as your eyes met. You turned your back to him immediately, feeling tears pricking at your eyes, trying to cover it up with the water that was rushing over you. It felt like you had nothing left, like this was the ultimate humiliation.

When you turned back to look at him once more, he was gone, not making so much as a sound as he left.

You weren’t foolish enough to think he’d truly left you alone, but you appreciated having at least the pretense of privacy. It was shockingly… kind?

No. You pushed the thought out of your mind as quickly as it occurred to you. You would not start thinking like that, not about the man who had kidnapped you.

You finished bathing quickly, the chill starting to set into your bones.

As you waded out of the river, he was still missing. It was evident where he’d been, massive orcs weren’t exactly built for stealth, but still he was nowhere to be found.

In his stead, you found a pile of clothes lying on the bank of the river. As you lifted them, the first thing you noticed was while they were far too big for you, they were too big by human standards. It was an old shirt, well worn, and a pair of pants you’d have to find some way to tie to keep up properly. They were slightly torn and upon closer inspection, you found speckles of a dark rusty substance splattered across the shirt.

Someone’s blood. From who’s side, you’d never know.

You tried not to dwell on what had happened to the owner of these clothes to leave them in the orc’s possession. They were yours now.

They were far more practical than your fine skirts had been, even if they didn’t quite fit properly.

As you pulled them on, you hesitated, holding your skirts. You didn’t need them any longer, but it felt like a waste to just leave them here.

But you had no time for sentimentality right now. You cast them aside, opting to forgo your shoes, despite the lack of new ones. Your shoes from the palace were not exactly built for forests and rough terrain. They’d only slow you down.

As you finished dressing, situating yourself in the unfamiliar clothes as best you could, you looked around nervously. You could find no sign of your captor amidst the unfamiliar foliage, but you had more than enough reason to doubt yourself. You felt lost amidst the thick trees surrounding you, it was hard to tell where you stood. You didn’t know what to look for or how to orient yourself, trapped in a foreign landscape.

You did what you could, checking for any onlookers, peeking through the trees, and once you’d made your decision, taking off.

You had no idea where you were, or where you were running to, but anywhere was better than here. There were surely search parties looking for you and even if you were on the other side of the border, orc civilians or soldiers who were unfamiliar with your status were a better bet than your current captors.

As your bare feet pounded down on a floor of sticks and rocks, you tried to ignore how cut up they were getting.

You were faster this way. That was what counted.

You focused on moving as fast as you could, the determination drowning out the pain until suddenly, the sharp rocks and twigs were underfoot no longer. Your brain took a second to catch up, feet still moving down to try and push off of a ground that was being pulled further and further away.

“Predictable little thing,” said a familiar voice beside you. “What happened to attempting to best me in combat? I didn’t take you for a coward, princess.”

A frustrated scream escaped you, cutting through the peaceful quiet of the forest.

Despite your protests, he continued to haul you back towards the camp, tying you up as soon as you reached your tent, a practiced routine for the two of you by now.

You had the night to sleep off your anger before morning came and you were on the move again.

Your captor did not wait before lifting you onto his shoulder and this time, you did not fight him. It was preferable to running to keep up with them, especially on newly damaged feet.

It felt strange to sit there, without struggling or screaming, just moving in silence. So instead, you spoke.

“Do you have a name?”

“Drakar,” he said. His voice was low but with your position atop his shoulder, it was easy to hear him, even over the bustle of moving soldiers.

“Thank you for the clothes,” you tried again, wanting to start up any sort of conversation to break the silence.

He didn’t even grace you with words this time, giving you a simple acknowledging grunt in return.

His answers remained brief, with no apparent interest in engaging in conversation. Eventually, you stopped trying.

When you came to a stop and the soldiers began to set up camp around you, you waited for your chance.

The second Drakar turned his back to you, you were off.

Another orc caught you in a heartbeat, hoisting you off the ground until Drakar could come fetch you.

He dragged you off with a huff, scowling at you as he set you down. “Why do you continue to fight and run? I’ve told you of our plans to trade you, you’ll fare better with us than on your own in the wilds.”

“I have no desire to be a bargaining chip against my own people. Besides, I’m no fool. I know good things don’t often happen to soldier’s prisoners.”

He scoffed. “Your soldiers, maybe. We have honor, unlike them. And you call us the monsters.”

“Monsters? Maybe. Uncivilized at the very least.”

“I assure you, your soldiers in my country are living in no more luxury than we are here.”

So you were still in your country, not yet over the border. If you could just get away, your chances were good. “Well, then they’re uncivilized dogs just like you,” you spat.

He never seemed to find your outbursts anything other than vaguely annoying or passively amusing. Right now, he seemed inclined towards amusement, despite your latest escape attempt. It was for the best, that tended to work out better for you. It was irritating nonetheless. “Perhaps.”

Your enlightening conversation was cut short as a horn sounded, a familiar announcing horn. The sound of one of your people. Drakar’s head perked up and before you understood what was happening, your legs were being bound together, untethered but severely limiting your movement. You might be able to move like this, but you couldn’t get far.

He did not feel the need to explain this to you or threaten you with hunting you down, trusting you to come to your own conclusions as he strode off in the direction of the horn.

You might not be able to run, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t do anything. The least you could do was try to gather information, so you could be useful when you were saved.

If you were saved.

You managed to scoot your way towards the back of the tent Drakar had retreated to, out of sight of any of the soldiers, just close enough that you could peek under the thick fabric of the walls.

Drakar’s back was to you. You could barely see the messenger from your spot on the floor, his body blocking your vision. You could just see the tip of a feather, presumably stuck in a hat, bobbing as the messenger spoke.

As you got close enough to listen in, you caught Drakar mid-sentence. “- does your king think about our terms for his precious daughter?”

You held your breath, trying not to get your hopes up. This was a war. They couldn’t just be giving in to the first demands given. This could be a long, arduous process. You understood that, would never blame him for it. The country came first.

“The king rejects your terms.” You tried not to let it get to you. You knew this would probably happen, could understand exactly where your father was coming from. The messenger continued on, unaware of your quiet heartbreak. “Furthermore, he would like to close negotiations on this matter.”

You could not hold in the gasp that came at his words. You saw Drakar stiffen and knew he’d heard you, knew he’d figured out exactly what you’d been doing. A moment passed and he untensed his shoulders and continued on. You silently thanked him. You were in no state to face anyone right now.

“What do you mean close negotiations?” he asked, and you choked back tears.

You cursed yourself for putting yourself in such a tight spot. You didn’t think you could manage a quiet escape, at least not without being noticed, not in your current state, so instead you sat, a captive audience to a discussion of why your family had given up on you.

The messenger cleared his throat. “We do not negotiate with beasts.”

“So he chooses instead to abandon his daughter with them?”

The messenger disregarded his words entirely, his voice squeaking as he cried out, “You creatures will pay for the loss of his daughter.”

“She is not lost yet. He is choosing that fate for her, not I,” he hissed out.

“I have said all I was bidden to say. Do you have a message for the king?”

“Tell him if I see him or any of his scrawny little messengers again, I’ll rip them in two.”

With a little yelp, the messenger retreated. Drakar stood for a moment, the sound of his heavy breathing filling the tent.

After a moment, the canvas of the tent was lifted and your hiding place was revealed. You sat, crumpled, on the ground, bile rising in your throat.

That was it. There was no one coming.

He hauled you to your feet, undoing your bindings.

“What did you ask for me?” you asked as he undid the ropes, keeping you propped up on him as he worked.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does!” you snapped. You needed to know what was so much more important than you, what you’d been given up for. “You will tell me. I’ve earned that much.”

“A full retreat. It never would have been taken, it was just supposed to be a start to the negotiations.”

“Hmm.” It was a ridiculous ask, obviously so. But to dismiss you completely? To not even try?

Drakar pulled you out of your thoughts with a question. “Would you even want to go back now? If I let you go?”

Your brows furrowed. “You can’t let me go. It would show weakness, show you’ll roll over if your terms aren’t met.”

“I know, it was just a question. So what do I do with you now?”

You shrugged. “You could kill me.”

“No. We won’t be doing that. I should have killed him, though. The audacity of them sending a little snot-nosed fool to tell me negotiations were over. I should’ve gutted him.”

“Why didn’t you?”

He spared you a look that said more than you were sure he wanted it to, rage and concern both written across his face. “I had other things on my mind.”

He tried to speak to you again but you’d begun to shut down. It was all too much, you could do no more.

It didn’t seem too unreasonable a reaction. Your life had just ended, severed by your father without even a real rescue attempt.

But even if you’d shut down, the world had not.

And so it continued. Drakar seemed to have decided you were still useful somehow because every day you were hauled along with his troops, and every day you were given your own little tent.

He didn’t keep you tied up anymore. It wasn’t because you’d become docile, you’d attempted many escapes and he’d found you and brought you back every time. You weren’t entirely sure why you were no longer being tied up. Maybe it was because you weren’t valuable anymore.

You didn’t fully understand why you hadn’t been killed yet. What more could you do for them?

As days passed, the grief lessened to more practical thoughts, thoughts about your future. What was there for you now? Why were you still here? What else could they want from you?

You wanted answers.

You stood and stormed off. Several of the soldiers around you went to grab you until they realized that you were not headed out, but instead towards Drakar’s tent, letting you continue on your warpath.

You started to shout as soon as you entered the tent and he whipped around to face you. “You should kill me. Why won’t you kill me? What do you want from me? Whatever it is, I won’t give it. I have nothing to give. I don’t understand what’s wrong with you.”

He watched your outburst with a level of amusement on his face that made you want to attack him. “Are you done?”

You ran at him, trying to claw at him, bite him, anything. He restrained you easily, pinning you against him, but still, it fed something in you, trying to do something.

You felt him chuckle behind you and if you weren’t pinned down, you would have attacked him again.

“See,” he asked, and you felt the rumble of his voice through his chest. “You’ll be fine. You’re a fighter.”

“I will not fight for you,” you spat.

“I don’t expect you to. But you will fight for you. Nothing is over.”

He released you from his grip and before you could decide what to do with your newfound freedom, someone came crashing into the tent, armor shining a bright silver. He stood, ready to attack, sword in hand, but the second he saw you he froze. “You’re dead,” he choked out, words muffled through the metal of the armor.

You didn’t have a chance to respond before Drakar had thrown him halfway across the camp, orc soldiers rushing over to finish him off. He didn't stand a chance.

You stared at the spot he had just been in, processing his words, before slowly turning to Drakar.

“What was that?”

“An attacker. A foolish little man.”

You shook your head. “No not… why did he think I was dead?’

“Princess, the whole world thinks you’re dead.”

You head snapped up to look at him. “Why?”

“Because I told them.”

You reeled back. “Why would you do that? I didn’t ask you to say that.”

“Your people didn’t seem to care.”

“Oh, thank you so much then. As long as they didn’t care, then it’s fine. You speak of honor and then do this. Why? To torture me? Make sure I have nowhere to go and ensure that I know I am not loved?”

You’d had enough of this conversation, turning heel and storming off without another word, set on putting as much distance as possible between you and them.

You vaguely heard orders being barked to follow you, but that didn't stop you from running.

It didn’t change anything. No matter how far you ran, you had nowhere to go.

Drakar didn’t follow you himself, instead sending someone else to do his dirty work. A few orcs stood behind you, easily able to keep track of you and match your pace.

You weren’t even given a full hour of feigned freedom before one of them had picked you up and started pulling you back towards camp. You fought them the whole way.

You were set down in front of him, the whole process embarrassing. You straightened your ill-fitted pants as you desperately tried to regain any ounce of dignity.

Despite your appearance, he didn’t seem amused. “You shouldn’t run.”

“So you saw fit to have me kidnapped? Again?”

“I had to tell them you were dead,” he said, pushing past your outburst.

You scoffed. “You didn’t have to do anything.”

“I have orders to kill you. The negotiations failed, my people wanted you dead. It was the only way out of this for you.”

Oh. There was no reprieve for you on either side. You’d known your father had signed your death warrant with his refusal to negotiate but now the orders had been given.

“Then why am I still here?” you asked, your voice smaller than you would’ve liked.

“It is not just. I will not kill you.”

“So what now?”

“No one knows what you look like,” he said, his voice soft and low. “It doesn’t have to be over.”

It didn’t matter. Both sides had condemned you. You had your life, but nowhere you could live it. “I have nowhere to go,” you said, sounding braver than you felt.

“You’ll find somewhere. Until then, there’s always room for you in my camp. I displaced you, the burden of this wrong falls to me.”

You rolled your eyes. “And none of your men will send word that you’ve kept me here?”

“As long as they get to keep staring at you, I can’t imagine they’d mind.”

Your nose wrinkled at his words. “These are your honorable men? Letting me stay for the right to keep ogling me?”

“It’s not so odd. They’re fascinated by you, such a strange little thing.”

You supposed you were strange and foreign to them, as they were to you. But surely you weren’t the first, not with the combat they must’ve seen. “You’ve seen humans before.”

“Some of them haven’t. At least, not living ones that aren’t trying to kill us.”

“Who said I’m not trying to kill you.”

He snorted. “Well, you’re doing a piss poor job of it.”

“And if I stay? I won’t fight my own people, even if I was trained in combat. You’ll just carry around dead weight?”

“You’re hardly dead weight. I don’t even notice you up on my shoulder half the time.”

“You know that’d not what I mean.”

“I do. There are towns over the border where you could stay.”

You looked up, curiosity gleaming in your eyes. “They’ll take me? A random human?”

He nodded solemnly. “They will, if you wish to depart. If not… I am the reason your people forsook you. I do not regret it, I did what needed to be done, but I regret what has come to pass to you because of it. You’ve faced this better than I ever thought a human would. They’re cowards to have cast you out, I will not follow in their steps. It may not be what you’re used to, I am no prince and we are no humans, but you’re welcome to stay at my home. You will never be a princess again, that was taken from you. I took that from you. It is only fair to give what I can in return. It is not much, but it is what I have.”

You smiled, swallowing down the lump in your throat and willing away the misty feeling in your eyes. “Thank you. I’d love to stay, if you’ll have me.”

It was no great concession from you, you weren’t exactly drowning in options, but it felt like choosing it all the same. It was no less of a choice than your last home had been, born into it and forbidden to ever really leave.

This was being offered to you. You were being given the opportunity to say no. To run.

As much as Drakar had angered and frustrated you in the past week or so, you weren’t sure you’d ever been given this much respect. Real respect, not the fake respect of being placed in war rooms and told to be silent.

You gave him a final nod and a smile, adding a curtsy that you pulled yourself out of halfway through when you thought better of it, tripping over your feet a little as you did.

His eyes crinkled as he smiled at you and you wondered how you’d never noticed it before.

You went to bed that night feeling lighter, freer than you were used to.

As you left your tent the next morning, you almost tripped over a deer carcass left in your doorway.

You backed away slowly, rushing over to Drakar’s tent.

He was barely dressed for the day, the sun having only half risen past the horizon, and gave you a smile and a nod as he saw you rush into his tent. “Good morning, princess.”

You barely let him finish his sentence before you blurted out, “Someone left a dead animal outside my tent.”

He froze, his shoulders tensing.

You watched, waiting for a response and getting none, before adding, “Should I be concerned? It felt like a threat. Maybe they don’t like that you lied for me, that you're protecting me. Maybe they don’t like me like you think they do.”

“It’s not a threat,” he said with a swift shake of his head.

“How could you know?”

He explained it through barred teeth. “It’s an orchish courting gift. You’ve caught someone’s interest.”

Your breath caught in your chest. “Oh.”

“Oh indeed.” None of the tension had left him and he made no attempt to hide his irritation. “It’s odd, an orc taking an interest in such a frail little thing.”

You rolled your eyes. He was clearly upset that one of his soldiers had become distracted with you, maybe even disgusted at the prospect of one of them taking interest in a human of all things. Clearly your bonding the day before hadn’t taken you that far.

“I don’t know, I’ve heard I can be quite charming.”

He ignored your statement completely, shifting closer to you as he spoke. “You should stay close to me until I can find out who left it and tell them off.” He was being strangely protective almost, the disgust you’d assumed would be there instead entirely absent.

“Why would you tell off my suitor? Surely I should do that myself. Besides, why do you even ca-”

Oh.

The reality of why someone courting you would make him protective set in and you looked up at him with wide eyes

You couldn’t help the shit-eating grin that plastered itself across your face. “Well, maybe I’ll accept it. I’ve got no future now, it couldn’t hurt to have a big, strong orc husband.”

He stood a little straighter as he understood the implication. “You seek protection?”

“Hm, I do, thank goodness I’ve finally found a suitable option, I was really starting to worry.”

Frustration flashed through his eyes as he realized what you were doing. “Fine, we should go find this suitor so we can tell him how graciously you’re accepting this courtship. I, for one, will be glad to be rid of you. Now you’ll be someone else’s problem.”

“We should. Unless there’s something you’d like to say?”

His nostrils flared as he glared down at you. “Nothing.”

“Are you sure? Nothing on your mind? Nothing like, I don’t know, having feelings for the, what is it you keep calling me? The weakling you kidnapped?”

He avoided meeting your eyes as he spoke. “Your force of will is admirable. The odds were against you but still you fought.”

You fought the urge to coo at him, at how flustered he looked and how it seemed like he was forcing out every word. You had no doubt he would rather have left you an animal carcass. You preferred it this way.

“I’m going to need you to be more direct than that.” Your voice was patient and kind and you could tell it was making things a hundred times worse for him.

“I had intentions to look into human courting, to find something familiar for you amidst so many new things you’ve been forced into. But given the situation, I suppose I can just tell you.”

“Tell me what?” you asked. You were going to make him say it, you didn’t care how long it took.

“About my intention to court you.”

You giggled at his pained face and he relaxed a little, looking down at you with fondness in his eyes. You wondered when that had begun. You wished you’d been paying attention enough to notice.

“What now?” he asked. “How do your human courtships go? I will do what I must.”

You thought about it, amusement flickering through you at the thought of Drakar trying to uphold the proper etiquette required while courting a princess. But the courting process was long and strained and if you were being honest, you preferred the brutal honesty you’d been given here at camp. “Frankly, I’ve had just about enough of how humans do it. What about you? We can skip the dead animal bit, but what comes next?”

He looked you up and down, some gears turning in his head that you were not privy to.

“I will have to be gentle,” he said, before hauling you over his shoulder and bringing you over to his bed of furs on the floor.

Your eyes widened as the implication set in. You’d been far from the perfect princess, having your fair share of trysts with guards and servants over the years, but this was a different beast.

And then he kissed you and you stopped thinking altogether.

It was desperate and urgent, his lips figuring out how to move against your smaller ones and you reached up, pulling his face closer as he set you below him on his makeshift bed.

He ground down on you, clothed hips moving to meet yours. Your disparate sizes meant to do so while kissing you he was contorted at a strange angle but he certainly wasn’t complaining.

He stopped kissing you, rushing to pull off his off pants, and his cock slapped against your stomach, thick and hard and hot and you wanted him inside you now.

But when it fell against you, it hit just above your belly button and you thought that perhaps your eyes were a bit bigger than your stomach.

He seemed to realize the impracticality of it at the same time you did, a hearty laugh escaping him. “Don't worry, princess, I'll get you nice and stretched out.”

You chuckled nervously. “I don’t know if stretching will be enough.”

He slid down, hitching your shirt up and pressing a gentle kiss on your stomach. “I won’t hurt you. If you’re not ready, that’s fine. There are other things we can do.”

He shifted both of you with ease, pulling you to sit on his chest as he laid back on his bed. You looked down at him, brows furrowed. “What about your traditional orc courtship.”

That pulled another laugh from him. “What part of this do you think has been traditional? The closest we got to traditional was when you bit me.”

You flushed red, recontextualizing the memory and wondering how many of the things you’d been doing to anger him had also been part of traditional orc courtship.

While you were busy blushing, he’d set to work on your pants, wrestling them off of you as he easily manhandled you. You barely helped, halfheartedly kicking them off. You remembered how much you hated being picked up by him when this had begun and how much that had changed. You were loathe to admit it but every time he lifted and moved you so easily, something stirred inside you.

As soon as he got your pants off you were pulled roughly forward, his hands wrapping around your thighs as he pulled you onto his mouth.

He ate you out with just as much urgency as he kissed you with, wasting no time before sliding his tongue through your folds.

His grip was unforgiving, pulling you down so all of your weight was on him.

His tusks dug into your inner thighs and he seemed to pull you impossibly closer as his tongue thrusted up inside of you.

Even his tongue was almost too thick, you walls stretching to accommodate it. You hands grasped at his hair, needing something to hold onto.

His mouth locked over your clit, sucking hard before moving back to thrust inside of you again, hands rising to play with your sensitive bud of nerves as he did.

As you began to fall apart above him, writhing against the onslaught of sensation, he only doubled his efforts.

You arched your back, your thighs clamping down on either side of his head, hips shifting with the waves of your orgasm that suddenly overcame you. He was content to let you ride it out, grip loosening to let you have your control as you moans filled the tent.

You came down slowly and it took a few moments to realize you were still sitting on his face.

You moved to sit beside him on the furs as soon as you did, your face warming.

You shifted your head to rest against him, staring down at his cock as you did. It was impossibly hard and practically pulsing with need, and you made a decision you hoped you wouldn’t regret.

“You know, it can’t hurt to try.”

He sat up immediately, eagerness evident in his face. “You’ll stop me if it’s too much.” It wasn’t a question but a statement.

You gave him a knowing look. “Of course I will.”

He shifted you, lifting you over him and you were happy to give over control. You trusted him.

It felt even bigger pressed up against your entrance than it had on your stomach and you took a deep breath. You waited but as nothing happened, you realized that Drakar was waiting for your signal.

No nodded and he began to lower you, incredibly slowly. As it pushed inside, you knew the girth was more than anything you’d taken before, but it was manageable. The stretch bordered on painful but it was slow and careful enough that you had time to adjust.

And then, as it went further and further, it became too much,

You winced long before he’d bottomed out, about half of it inside you. It was bordering on too painful and you pressed your hands against his chest, shaking your head. “No more,” you said quietly, already weak from your last orgasm.

He didn’t seem to mind, holding you steady as he pressed you close to him, muttering quiet praises to you.

You slowly adjusted, not ready to take more but more than happy with what was already inside of you.

You shifted your hips a little, pushing it against a perfect spot inside of you, letting out a quiet moan as you did.

He put a stop to it fairly quickly, holding you still. “I think I’ll just keep you there. You’re perfect, taking me so well.”

You writhed, trying to get the stimulation you were becoming desperate for but he held you steady easily.

So you tried a new tactic. “Want more,” you said, voice soft and sweet. If that didn’t work you’d try yelling at him, see how that fared.

“Careful, I promised I wouldn’t hurt you. You damn humans, so fragile.”

“I’m not fragile, you’re just too big.”

“Excuses, excuses.” Despite his words, he began to slowly move, shifting out of you before pushing in again, careful to not push past the point where you’d stopped him.

He moved you up and down like it was nothing, careful even as he began to speed up, hips shifting a little to meet you, chasing after your warm cunt as he pulled you back up.

His breathing grew shaky as he did and despite feeling overwhelmed with sensation, you fought to keep your eyes open, to watch him come undone.

As his grunts became more and more unruly, your walls clenched around him at the sight.

He immediately pulled you up, leaving just the head of his cock inside of you as he filled you with thick ropes of come.

His breathing was ragged and his grip on you tightened slightly, pulling you even closer to him.

He looked down at you, eyes softer than you’d ever seen them, before pulling you off of him and settling back with you resting on his chest.

You made an absolute mess of him as he did, with no chance of keeping the frankly absurd amount of come inside of you.

He didn’t seem to care at all.

“We’re making a mess,” you said, despite suspecting the objection would fall on uncaring ears.

“You said you wanted an orcish courting, the mess is traditional.”

You weren’t sure if you were cut out for a traditional orc courting, already squirming as your thighs were coated in his spend.

But his chest was warm and his breathing steady and you couldn’t help but settle into the comfort of it.

“I'm gonna fit all of it someday,” you said, meaning it fully.

He laughed. “Brave little thing, aren’t you? Dreaming big.”

You snorted.

“What happens now?” you asked as you snuggled further into him.

“You reject that fool's advances.”

You hummed happily. “I will. I guess I’m lucky I caught your eye, don’t know if I would've survived this if I hadn’t”

“I meant what I said. I wouldn’t have let them kill you. It wouldn't be right. And you would’ve managed even without me. You wouldn't be the first human to sneak away to our side.”

That surprised you. “I wouldn't?”

He chucked, hands running through your hair. “You wouldn't. We're a more accepting group, I've found. Although you are a weak little species, we don’t have much use for you. You’re lucky you're pretty or I don't know if we'd put up with you.”

You scrunched up your nose. “You didn’t decide to court me because you thought I was pretty though.”

“No,” he said, like you both already knew the answer. “I decided to court you because no matter how many times we stopped you, you never stopped trying to run, to fight.”

You sat up with a sudden urgency. “If I said I wanted to go home, to my father, would you let me?”

You watched the panic flash across his face and some selfish part of you hoped it was panic over losing you and not panic over the consequences that could come if you showed up alive after his order to kill you.

He sat with it for a while and you let him, in no rush to pull an answer from him.

Finally, he seemed to find whatever he'd been searching for. “I would.”

“Good,” you said, a smug feeling welling up in your chest, right beside the warmth that had begun to fill you at his answer. “Then I'll stay.”

He tried and failed to hide his smile. “Good. Does that mean you’re done running from me?”

You grinned, knowing full well it didn’t. What would be the fun in that? “We’ll see.”

“I’m sure,” he said as he shifted the two of you, wrapping you up in furs to protect your modesty before picking you up once more, with one arm under your knees and the other below your back, keeping you close to his chest. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up, princess.”

#orc x reader #orc #terato #monster bf #monster x human #monster boyfriend #monster x reader #orc boyfriend #orc romance #Bridal carries are also called princess carries and I think it’s so cute that that’s how he picks her up at the end #This wasn’t even the prompt that won the orc poll lol #This is not a democracy apparently

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