Harpy

|•| She/Her |•| 30 y.o. |•| Dream a little more because it is what makes you expand your imagination and turn it into art.

[nyraeafterdark]

Unpopular opinion, Tomas is a TOOOOP!!! YUP, I SAID WHAT I SAID. That man is a pussy destroyer and gut rearranger. I'm so tired of seeing some people writing him as a big baby who doesn't know what sex is... that's a grown ass man, be fr for a second.

That's why I love the way you write him, I feel like you totally nailed him as a character in your fics. Anyways... more Dom!Tomas, please! Maybe even continuation of Pinned & Educated hehehe

Lásko Moje

THATS WHAT I’M SAYING!! i mean, there’s nothing wrong with sweet innocent sub tomas but, that’s a sexy cheeky hunk of a man, girls have thrown themselves at him, we fucking know it

Pairing(s): Tomás Vrbada x Reader

Warnings: NFSW, rough sex, overstimulation, spanking, consensual choking (lightly), dom tomás, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, manhandling, L in the chat for poor kuai, he never catches a break, congrats, u got ur guts rearrange 😃

A/N: I personally believe he’s a switch but i'm also down bad for mean tomas vrbada 😭, also im pretty sure i forgot a shitton of warnings... just know it got filthy 🙂‍↕️

Masterlist

Ever since Tomás took you against the dinner table, the two of you have been inseparable. Much to your shock, he’d turned out to be the sweetest man, all clingy affection, warm smiles, and gentle touches.

Most of the clan already had the tea.

The long looks, the disappearing acts, the way you and Tomás walked around with that freshly kissed glow like two teenagers who thought they were subtle.

Kuai tried to pry an answer out of you at least five times.

“Are you together?”

“Are you sure you’re not together?”

“Then why did he call you princess in the training hall?”

You stonewalled him every time and the man was vibrating with curiosity like a bored cat.

Bi-Han, meanwhile, had simply given the two of you The Bi-Han Special™ look—arms crossed, jaw tight, irritation simmering.

“This will not interfere with your duties.”

A friendly deadly threat suggestion disguised as a reminder.

And yet, despite the entire Lin Kuei having a betting pool about whether Tomás would finally claim you or keep playing house without the title, the man himself still hadn’t officially asked you to be his girlfriend.

Much to your dismay.

It was actually starting to grind on your nerves because you knew Tomás wanted to ask you out.

Everybody knew.

He followed you around like a puppy, looked at you like you were the last meal on Earth, and rearranged your guts like he was being graded on it.

But asking you to be his woman?

Apparently that was the one enemy he couldn’t defeat.

The man had the confidence of a solar flare when it came to spearing you onto his cock like it’s nothing, but somehow lost all motor functions when it came to forming the sentence:

“Be my girlfriend.”

Tragic. Embarrassing. Infuriating.

Fine.

If he wasn’t going to do it on his own, then you’d just have to nudge him.

You poked Kuai sharply in the ribs.

He choked and flinched like someone stabbed him with a fork, and turned to glare at you.

“Kuai…” you murmured sweetly—too sweetly if you ask him—as a slow, dangerous smile curled onto your face.

“I need your… help.”

His eyes narrowed.

He knew that smile, the one that promised chaos and suffering.

“…Help with what?” he asked warily.

You leaned closer, lowering your voice like you were about to discuss classified intel.

“I need to make your brother jealous enough to grow a spine.”

Kuai stared.

Blink.

Blink.

Blink.

“…No.”

You gave him a harder poke.

“Kuai.”

He rubbed his side like you’d stabbed him again.

“You’re going to get me killed.”

You shrugged, smile weaponized.

“Not if Tomás finally asks me to be his.”

He groaned into his hands.

“Why am I involved in this.”

“Because you’re the only one he actually gets competitive with,” you whispered, grin only getting worse, “and if he thinks you want me…”

Kuai froze, then groaned louder.

“Absolutely not,” he muttered—already knowing he was going to fold.

You patted his arm, victorious.

“Oh, come on, Kuai. It’s for love.”

He stared at you like you had personally ruined his entire evening.

“It’s going to be for my funeral,” he corrected flatly.

But he didn’t say no.

You grinned, leaning in with weaponized sweetness.

“Kuai, you’ll be fine. Besides, I got you. Don’t you trust me?”

“No.”

He didn’t even blink, voice hollow and defeated, already mourning his own life choices.

You clicked your tongue and shoved him lightly.

“Whatever. Listen up, here’s what’s gonna happen.”

Kuai braced like he was about to get hit by a truck.

“You’re gonna flirt with me,” you said casually, “and touch me all the damn time whenever Tomás is around.”

He stared at you like you had just sprouted five heads and asked him to go hug Bi-Han.

You rolled your eyes at the dramatics.

“What? Did you seriously think he’d get jealous if you just stood there looking cute and did nothing? No! Absolutely not. Man up, Kuai.”

“I’m going to die,” he muttered, face blank, soul gone. “If Tomás doesn’t kill me, Bi-Han will for entertaining this.”

You snickered, delighted.

“Stop being such a wuss and help me get an official perma-dick!”

“You already have that!” he snapped, offended.

“Not officially!”

“What is the difference?!”

“Will you help me or not?” you growled, patience almost gone.

Kuai dragged a hand down his face, sighed like someone told him to retire early, and said nothing, which, unfortunately for him, was the same as saying yes.

For the next couple of days, you and Kuai were practically glued together, which was impressive, considering Kuai spent most of that time looking like he wanted to evaporate out of sheer embarrassment.

His hand was always somewhere on you: your waist, your lower back, your hip and every time he hesitated, you’d hiss at him through your teeth and physically shove his hand closer.

“Make it believable, dumbass!”

Your smile was getting strained enough to crack porcelain, but Kuai was genuinely trying. He deserved a medal for surviving this long.

And every single time Tomás saw the two of you?

His eyes darkened.

His jaw clenched.

He gave you both the most unimpressed, “I know exactly what the hell you’re doing and I hate it” glare.

Still, he didn’t do anything.

Didn’t say anything.

“This isn’t working,” you muttered under your breath while Kuai pretended to inspect a training spear just so he didn’t have to make eye contact with Tomás.

Kuai winced before removing his hand from your hip slowly.

“…It did,” he murmured.

You shot him a confused glare.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Kuai didn’t answer.

Instead he flicked his gaze behind you—a tiny, warning look—right before he took a small step back.

You frowned, confused, and began to turn.

You didn’t even get halfway before a hand—large, warm, and very familiar—wrapped around your waist from behind firmly.

Possessive.

A low voice breathed against your ear:

“Can we talk, princess?”

Your breath hitched.

Tomás pulled you tighter against his chest, tone dangerously calm.

“Now,” he added.

And then he shot Kuai a look so vicious the poor man nearly ascended.

You shivered in Tomás’ hold, feeling his fingers tighten just enough to make your pulse skip. You turned your head, slowly, carefully, and met his grey eyes, darker than you’d ever seen them, unreadable.

Your gaze flicked toward Kuai.

He was already halfway down the hall, shaking his head like he had just witnessed his own funeral.

Smart man.

You looked back at Tomás and forced a smile, small and sweet.

“Sure, love. Where to?” you asked, tone light but edged with growing alarm.

He hummed, thumb brushing along your waist in one last fleeting moment of softness before he released you, only to lace his fingers with yours.

Always a gentleman, even when he was absolutely furious.

“Come,” he murmured, voice low and clipped.

He guided you down the hallway, turning corner after corner in silence, until he stopped at his room. He pushed the door open, nodding for you to enter. You stepped inside, glancing around the neatly kept space—tidy, organized, nothing out of place.

The door clicked shut behind you.

Then locked.

You didn’t even have time to turn.

A hand wrapped firmly around your throat, pulling you back flush against his chest, your breath catching hard as heat spiked through your body.

His mouth brushed your ear, voice rough and low.

“Did you think you were being cute?” he growled.

You gasped softly, gripping his forearm on instinct.

His grip tightened just enough to make your knees weaken.

“Parading around with my brother,” he continued, tone simmering with jealousy and something else entirely. “Letting him put his hands on you.”

Your heart hammered.

He pressed you tighter against him, his breath dragging hot along your neck.

“Did you forget who you belong to?” he murmured, the words a dangerous whisper, vibrating against your skin.

Your pulse jumped beneath his palm, and you felt him smirk against your cheek.

“Oh,” he breathed, “you didn’t forget.”

His fingers flexed at your throat, controlling your breath, your voice, the way your body melted in his hold.

“You just wanted me to say it.”

Now, here’s where a reasonable person would give up this stupid little game and apologize.

A normal, functioning adult would cut their losses, beg forgiveness, maybe offer cookies.

You, however?

Yeah.

You were not that person.

If anything, your specialty was shooting yourself directly in the foot and then reloading for fun.

“…Technically we’re not together,” you breathed, tone just shy of smug. “I was just… exploring options, you know?”

He hummed, low and thoughtful, the kind of sound that should’ve made you shut up immediately.

“Is that so?” he murmured. “Well… did you enjoy what you found so far?”

You shrugged.

“Not sure… didn’t get a lot of time to experiment.”

Someone should genuinely sew your mouth shut.

Nothing good ever comes from taunting Tomás.

You know this.

Your body knows this.

Your soul knows this.

And yet here you are.

His free hand slid down your torso, slow and mocking, tracing your curves with deliberate purpose. He dipped beneath the hem of your shirt, fingers dragging across bare skin.

“Tell me,” he taunted softly, voice lethal in its calm,

“what’s there to compare?”

His grip on your throat tightened, making your breath stutter. Then he tilted your head back, forcing your gaze up to his. His eyes were dark, jealousy and hunger swirling together like a storm breaking.

“Go on,” he said, tone razor-sharp, “Look at me while you try to come up with a pathetic answer.”

Your pulse jumped violently under his palm.

His thumb stroked your jaw, mockingly gentle.

“What could you possibly think another man has…” he leaned closer, lips brushing your cheek, “…that I don’t?”

His fingers splayed across your stomach, sliding lower, teasing.

“Say it,” he murmured, voice dipping into something possessive and deadly.

“Tell me what you were looking for.”

His breath dragged slow across your ear.

“And I’ll show you exactly why you don’t get to look anywhere else.”

Your lips parted on a shaky breath, eyes blown wide as your mind scrambled for a answer, yet not a single coherent thought survived.

Instead, what left your mouth was the softest, most humiliating whimper.

Tomás chuckled, the sound vibrating straight through your spine. His silence made everything worse. He was still waiting, still giving you a chance to talk yourself out of your own grave.

Your face flushed hot, your body twitching in his hold. Unfortunately, the devil on your shoulder decided to take the wheel.

“I’m…”

You blinked up at him, dazed, breath trembling, before that wicked, bratty spark snapped right back into place.

A smirk curled onto your lips.

“I’m looking for a person who can actually fuck me correctly,” you purred, lashes fluttering as if you weren’t actively detonating a bomb. “Not one who pretends.”

His head tilted slowly.

His face was neutral, blank, but the air around him changed into something thicker and tighter.

You should’ve stopped, but your mouth kept going.

“A few orgasms are nice and all but…”

You sighed dramatically, letting faux disappointment drip from every syllable.

“It’d be amazing if my boyfriend fucked me so good I couldn’t walk for a few days.”

Silence.

His fingers flexed at your throat, his thumb pressing just enough to force your chin up.

Then, very quietly—too quietly—he exhaled a single laugh. A laugh that said:

You have no idea what you’ve just done.

“Well,” he murmured, voice dropping into something low and lethal, “I suppose I should thank you.”

He pulled you flush against him.

“For finally telling me exactly,” his lips brushed your ear, “how you want me to ruin you.”

His hand slid down your body—firm, claiming, leaving no room for doubt.

“And sweetheart…”

His voice turned molten with hunger.

“If you wanted to be unable to walk—”

His mouth grazed your jaw, hot and possessive.

“You only had to ask.”

You huffed at his words, glaring up at him with all the misplaced confidence of someone who had just kicked a hornet’s nest barefoot.

“Like I said… I want my boyfriend to do it. We’re not together.” Your tone dripped defiance, lashes fluttering in mock innocence, “Therefore, you don't count.”

You sang the last part at him.

His hand dropped from your throat and he took a single step back.

You smirked, triumphant—thinking you had already won.

In the next breath, his arms locked around you, lifting you clean off your feet. Before you could even gasp, your body hit the mattress with a bounce and a startled cry.

“TOMÁS!” you shrieked, eyes wide, scrambling to sit up. “What the he—”

He flipped you over wordlessly.

Your sentence died on your tongue as your face met the sheets.

Your pants and underwear were yanked down to your thighs in one rough, efficient motion.

“Tomás! What are you—”

He sat down and pulled you sideways across his lap like you weighed nothing.

You huffed at the manhandling, ready to spit out another sarcastic jab.

“What? You gonna spank m—”

The sound cracked through the room like a gunshot.

A smack, sharp and loud, echoing off the walls as your body jolted violently in his hold.

Your breath punched out of you in a shocked, broken gasp, skin stinging where his hand landed.

Your eyes were wide open, mouth parted in stunned silence as the burn bloomed across your skin. Tomás’ hand stayed planted on the curve of your ass, firm, holding you exactly where he wanted you.

You let out a stunned little laugh as you turned your head toward him, eyes narrowed in challenge.

“You think a couple of spanks is gonna make me b—”

CRACK.

You whimpered at the second hit, your body jolting, thighs squeezing instinctively as the sting ripped through you. You bowed your head, hair falling in your face, breath hitching as your body tried to process the shock.

“You want to keep going?” he muttered, voice low and dangerous, vibrating against your spine.

Your mouth opened and closed, debating.

“…I’ve been spanked harder…” you breathed out.

His hand moved in a slow, deceptively gentle caress across the fresh heat of your skin and then lifted.

You barely had time to tense.

CRACK.

You squeaked as the pain surged white-hot, your fingers digging into his thigh, breath shuddering.

“You keep letting your mouth run,” he warned, tone bored, almost amused, “and you won’t like the consequences.”

His hand slid over your burning skin, massaging where he’d struck, admiring the red bloom of his handprint.

You bit your lip hard, shivering beneath the attention.

“T-Tomás…” you whimpered, voice thin and trembling.

He hummed a low, knowing sound, his free hand drifting down, tracing a single teasing line along your soaked cunt.

He chuckled as you jolted in his hold.

“I haven’t even started,” he murmured, dragging a finger through your wetness slow enough to make you gasp. “And you’re already dripping for me.”

Your cheeks burned.

“Mm… maybe I should stop,” he mused, tone fake-thoughtful.

“Wouldn’t want to outdo your future boyfriend, right?”

Your whole body went still.

His finger pressed against you again just enough to make your lungs forget how to function.

“Unless…” he taunted softly, “you’d like to explain how you’re soaking for a man who ‘doesn’t count.’”

You let out a slow, shaky exhale, glaring at the sheets as if they were personally responsible for your life choices. Your lips pressed together, mind finally catching up to the exact level of danger you’d walked yourself into.

Maybe—just maybe—it was time to stop talking.

His hand resumed its slow massage over the fat of your ass, warm and steady, kneading like he owned every inch of you.

“Why so quiet all of a sudden?” he cooed, voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Thought you felt like talking.”

You shivered, scrambling for a response that wouldn’t toss you headfirst into hellfire.

“…M’sorry…” you mumbled, barely audible.

Tomás snickered. A low, derisive sound that went straight to your core.

“Yeah?”

You nodded weakly, shame warming your cheeks.

“Didn’t… didn’t mean to make you jealous…”

His hand struck before you could breathe.

CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.

Three sharp, punishing smacks landed in rapid succession, each harder than the last. You jolted violently, hands clutching the sheets, breath tearing out of you in a startled cry.

He hummed in disapproval, the sound low and cold.

“I don’t like lies, princess.”

You whined, your cunt clenching around nothing, need pulsing through you embarrassingly strong. Your breath came in shaky bursts, your thighs trembling, brain stuck in the delicious agony of indecision:

Continue being a brat and suffer for it?

Or sink into obedience like you knew he wanted?

“Tomas…” you panted, torn between pride and instinct, “I…”

Your voice broke, hips involuntarily rocking into his grip.

He chuckled—soft, cruel, indulgent.

“That’s better,” he murmured, hand smoothing over your stinging skin, thumb brushing the outline of his own handprint. “Now you sound like my good girl.”

He leaned in, breath warm against your ear.

“So try again,” he whispered, tone a dark promise, “Tell me why you really did it.”

You let out an overwhelmed, broken whine, squirming in his hold. You were not ready to admit the truth, that all this chaos, all this bratting, all this pushing was because you wanted one simple title from him.

So you fell back on the safest lie you had.

“I dunno…” you mumbled weakly.

He exhaled sharply, frustrated and disappointed, like he could see straight through you. His hand slid between your thighs, pushing them apart with no effort at all.

His palm settled on your inner thigh, fingers digging in just enough to leave dents in the soft muscle.

“Y/N.”

You whined again, shaking your head, hiding your face. Anything to avoid the truth.

His grip tightened once before disappearing.

Only for his hand to land directly on your cunt with a sharp, echoing smack.

Your moan came out shocked and high, hips jerking off his lap, his other hand pressing your lower back down, pinning you in place.

“Tell me the truth,” he repeated, tone calm as steel.

Another smack landed on your soaked center, even harder, the wet sound ringing obscenely through the room.

Your mouth fell open in a choked yelp.

“T-Tomás— I—”

You struggled, breath tripping over itself as you writhed in his hold.

He waited patiently, unmoving except for the slow glide of his fingers along your inner thigh, teasing dangerously close.

“Use your words,” he murmured, “Tell me why you did it.”

You shook, fighting the instinct to break, to fold. Your hips twitched helplessly against his lap.

“I— I wanted—” your voice cracked, shame heating your chest, “I just—”

His fingers brushed the edge of your soaked folds, barely grazing you, the lightest tease.

“Say it,” he urged softly, voice dipping into something firm, commanding, “Be a good girl.”

Your breath hitched, trembling out of you.

“I— wanted you to—”

The rest of the sentence dissolved into a desperate gasp when his hand slid just a little closer, fingertips nudging your entrance.

“There’s my sweet girl,” he murmured against your ear, breath warm, smug. “Finish the sentence.”

He dragged a slow stroke through your wetness, then sank a finger inside you just as you finally broke.

“Just wanted you to make me yours,” you moaned, clenching tight around his digit.

Tomás cooed as he began gently pumping his finger, teasing your walls.

“Sweet girl,” he murmured, voice thick, “you are mine.”

You shook your head in tiny, helpless movements.

“O-officially… wanna be your… g-girlfriend officially.”

That made him freeze for half a second before smiling fondly, a wicked crook to it.

“Ahh,” he sighed softly, almost lovingly, “So that’s what my pretty girl’s been bratting for.”

He slid a second finger in, stretching you, spreading them just enough to make your breath hitch and your hips jerk back against him, needy for more.

You shivered, grinding back onto his hand on instinct.

“You could’ve just told me that from the beginning, princess,” he teased, voice full of warmth and reprimand all at once, “No need to act out just to get what you want.”

His fingers drove deeper, harder, curling just right, his tone shifting from gentle to something darker.

“How about you fall apart for me right here,” he breathed against your ear, “and I’ll make your wish come true?”

Your hips stuttered helplessly.

“P-promise…?” you mewled, so soft it barely counted as a word.

His smile sharpened.

“How about you find out?” he murmured.

His fingers plunged into your soaked cunt in earnest, pumping into you with a rhythm that knocked the breath out of your lungs. He wrapped his free arm around your waist, pinning you down firmly so you couldn’t squirm away from the assault.

“T-Tomas…!” you gasped, fingers clawing into the sheets, hips jerking despite his iron hold.

All you could hear was the obscene plap-plap-plap of his fingers driving into you, mixed with the wet, messy sounds of your cunt clenching around him. You felt his breathing deepen behind you, as if he wasn’t absolutely wrecking you with his hand alone.

Then he added a third finger, curling them together, dragging hard against that devastating spot inside you, making stars burst behind your eyelids.

Your whole body jolted.

Your cunt spasmed, trying to clamp down on his fingers desperately, unable to escape the relentless pleasure he was building inside you.

“Tomás—!” you sobbed, burying your face in the sheets as the pressure in your belly coiled tight and sharp.

“Cum for me, sweet girl,” he murmured.

His fingers slammed into that spot once more and that was all it took.

Your hips jerked violently in his hold, your walls tightening hard around his fingers as the orgasm tore through you. Your moans broke apart into breathless cries, your whole body trembling on his lap as the pleasure crashed over you.

He kept working you through it with steady, controlled strokes, guiding every last aftershock from your shaking muscles until you finally sagged forward, panting and boneless.

When you went still, he slowly pulled his fingers from you and lifted them to his mouth, eyes half-lidded as he tasted you.

“Good girl,” he growled out, possessive and hungry.

He shifted you off his lap with surprising gentleness, turning you onto your side. His gaze drank in the sight of your flushed face, the tears gathered on your lashes, your swollen lips—something dark and hungry flickering through his expression. He bit his lip as he slid your pants the rest of the way down.

“Since you were so good for me and did exactly what I asked, I’ll reward you,” he said softly, stripping himself quickly after.

He spread your thighs with firm hands, lifting one leg to rest over his shoulder as he straddled the other one, the position leaving you open and helpless beneath him. He aligned his tip at your entrance and pushed forward slowly, deliberately, forcing you to feel him inch by inch.

“How about becoming my girl hmm?” he moaned out, voice strained with control. “You wanna be mine? Wanna be my girlfriend, princess?”

You mewled, hands reaching out weakly to grab his arm as he kept feeding you inch by inch.

You both panted as he sank in fully, your walls pulling tight around him. His lashes fluttered, a shiver running through his body as he held himself there—deep, unmoving—just long enough for you to feel every inch of him settling into place.

Then he laughed quietly, breath warm against your calf, the sound low and merciless.

His hips slipped back, inch by agonizing inch, until only the tip of him remained.

And then he drove forward again, harder, sharper, your body taking the impact with a broken gasp.

Your hand flew to his waist, fingers latching on as he set a brutal pace, each thrust dragging a helpless shudder through your limbs. The sheets bunched in your other hand. You could barely think, barely breathe—just feel him, everywhere.

“You haven’t answered me, princess,” he panted, voice unraveling as he hugged your leg higher, holding you tighter under him. The new angle made the next thrust strike deep enough to punch a sound from your throat.

“I—uh…mmm..mmmm…w-what?” you slurred, words dissolving each time his hips met yours, every shock of pleasure scattering your thoughts.

He let out a long exhale, half-groan, half-complaint, as if your inability to speak was somehow your fault and not the result of him completely ruining your ability to function.

“First you act up, then you don’t answer me,” he grunted, each word punctuated by a hard, deliberate thrust. “Now you pretend you can't understand what I’m saying. What more, princess?”

You shook your head in a daze, nails digging harder into his skin just to ground yourself.

“Ngh, I’m s-sorry… I… can’t focus… you’re… you’re…” you gasped, the words melting into nothing as your back arched under him.

“You’re too cock-dumb?” he mocked softly. The affection in his voice twisted around the cruelty, turning it into something even more overwhelming. “I understand, princess... but I asked you a very important question.”

His pace slowed, each thrust deep and dragging, forcing you to feel every second of him moving through you. His free hand drifted down your side, gripping your hip, holding you steady while he took his time grinding the answer out of you.

Your breath hitched violently, your voice barely a whisper when you tried to speak again.

He leaned in, lips brushing your jaw, his breath warm and taunting against your skin.

“You’re stalling,” he murmured, rolling his hips just right, “and I’m losing my patience.”

He angled his next thrust so perfectly it stole the sound from your throat, leaving your mouth open in a silent plea.

“Ngh…question..?” you mewled out helplessly, walls fluttering weakly around him.

“Will you be my girlfriend,” he murmured, voice rough and devastatingly steady for a man already this deep inside you. “If the answer is yes, I want you to cum on my cock.”

He barely finished the sentence before pulling out just enough to lay you onto your back with infuriating ease. Your legs were guided around his waist, his hands spreading you open without hesitation. And then he slid back in, slow for a single heartbeat.

“T-Tomas!” you yelped as he snapped forward, hips pistoning into you with sharp, relentless force. Your back arched off the mattress, hands scrambling for anything to hold onto as the pleasure surged through your body at a pace you couldn’t keep up with.

“Tell me, láska,” he growled, every thrust knocking your breath loose. He felt the telltale flutter around him, your body betraying you before you could even think of speaking.

You tried.

You genuinely tried.

But the words never made it past your lips.

Your mouth opened, your breath hitched, and your orgasm hit like a shockwave.

Your body seized, vision blurring as sensation tore right through you, your walls tightening violently around him.

“Shit…” Tomás cursed, grip tightening on your hips as he stuttered through the force of your release. He slowed, just enough to keep control, chest heaving as he felt every pulse of your climax milk him.

Then, he laughed. Soft, low and wicked.

“I don’t think I heard that correctly,” he drawled, dragging his hips back with a slow, taunting grind before slamming forward again. “Let's try again.”

He set a new rhythm, deep and deliberate. Designed to break you down one trembling breath at a time. Each thrust pushed another sound out of your throat, each roll of his hips dragged you dangerously close again.

And again.

And again.

Your body kept unraveling, helpless under the way he worked you, another orgasm coiling tight before you could recover from the last.

Your body was twitching uncontrollably now, every muscle shivering under the strain of too many highs stacked on top of each other. The sheets beneath you were completely soaked, evidence of every time he’d pushed you past your limit. Tomás wasn’t faring much better—his hips, stomach, even his chest was streaked with the mess you’d made on him.

He’d given you one break.

One.

And it was only to tear the rest of your clothes off your trembling body before dragging you right back into his rhythm.

Tomás lay beneath you, hands locked around your hips, guiding every shaky movement as you straddled him. His mouth roamed hungrily over your chest, licking away sweat, kissing any part of you he could reach. His hips kept driving up into you from below, the force of each lift making your already-wobbly arms buckle.

A broken moan caught in his throat when he felt your walls flutter around him again—weak, desperate, exhausted. He covered your nipple with his mouth, sucking greedily, tongue flicking at the hardened bud until your whole torso jerked.

“Give me one more, láska…” he mumbled against your skin, his breath hot and pleading. “Just one more, I promise.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks, your head shaking in tiny frantic motions as your nails dragged across his slick back, slipping helplessly against his skin.

“N-no more,” you sobbed, voice thin and shaking. “It h-hurts…”

He groaned, a sound raw and wrecked, his breath coming in sharp pants as he kept thrusting up into you, unable to stop even if he wanted to.

“Please baby, please,” he begged, forehead pressed to your chest, voice cracking with the strain. “I promise you, I just need you to cum one more time.”

His hands tightened on your hips, holding you down against every desperate snap of his hips, as if he could pull that last release out of your trembling body sheerly by wanting it hard enough.

By sheer force of will and the way he kept driving into you, your body began tightening again, another release coiling low, violent and uncontrollable, even as tears streaked down your cheeks. Your lungs stuttered with every breath, the sensations crashing through you in ways that you were far too gone to fight anymore.

Tomas’s thumb dragged down, searching, and the moment it brushed your clit, your entire body jolted so hard it almost threw you off him. A sharp, helpless sound tore from your throat.

His other hand clamped around your hip and hauled you back down onto him, pulling you into the rhythm of his thrusts with a force that left no room to breathe, let alone think. His hips slammed up into you, his breath catching with each snap of his pelvis.

“Lásko moje, jsem blízko,” he panted, voice frayed, close to breaking.

His hand slid from your clit to your throat, fingers wrapping across the skin, pulling you down onto him, his thrusts turning rougher, deeper, like he was dragging that last orgasm out of you whether your body could take it or not.

Your eyes rolled back, mouth falling open in a broken gasp, the sensation barreling into you so intensely your whole body seized around him. Your hand reached up blindly, fingers grasping his wrist, needing something—anything—to anchor you as your pleasure ripped upward.

“There… that’s my sweet girl,” he panted, the words strained and ragged, each thrust becoming less controlled as your walls spasmed around him.

He managed a few more thrusts before he pressed himself fully inside you and stayed there, hips trembling. His head fell back as a harsh moan of your name tore from his throat.

His release hit you in heavy pulses, hot and thick, his body jerking with every wave of it.

You could only produce a small, broken sound somewhere between a whine and a sob as your body finally gave out, collapsing forward, boneless and shaking.

Tomas immediately loosened his hold, his hand slipping from your throat to your jaw, guiding you gently as he caught you against his chest.

He kept himself buried deep as his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tight as if he needed every inch of contact to ground himself.

His breath came out uneven, warm against your shoulder, his chest rising and falling against your back as the last slow pulses of his release settled deep inside you.

His hand moved slowly up and down your spine, steady and soothing, each pass grounding both of you as he caught his breath. When he finally tilted his head to look down at you, he saw you were completely unconscious.

His lips twitched into a grin before he let out a quiet, breathless laugh.

“Whoops…”

He brushed a strand of hair from your face, pressed a light kiss to your shoulder, and set to work.

When you came to again, everything felt hazy and warm.

You were clean, skin freshly washed, hair damp, wrapped in one of his oversized shirts that smelled like him. The sheets beneath you were crisp and new, and the entire room felt softer somehow, quieter.

An arm was secured firmly around your waist, holding you to a warm body behind you. Slow, steady breaths ghosted across the back of your neck.

You shifted slightly, craning your head back.

Tomás immediately pulled you closer.

His face scrunched, annoyed at being woken up, before smoothing out as his eyes fluttered open. They were still heavy with sleep, pupils soft and warm, before focusing on you.

“Hey there, princess,” he rasped, voice gravelly from sleep as he let you turn in his arms to face him. His hand slid up your back, anchoring you against his chest.

“How are you feeling?”

“Sore…” you whispered, nuzzling deeper into his hold.

He softened immediately, kissing your forehead with a tenderness that made your chest flutter.

“I’d say sorry…” he began, that teasing smile tugging at his lips, “but you did ask for it.”

A quiet laugh slipped out of you, your head nestling under his chin. “Yeah… I did.”

Silence settled between you—comfortable, warm, woven with the afterglow of everything that had happened. His fingers traced slow shapes along your spine, breaths syncing with yours.

“Yes…” you whispered suddenly.

Tomás hummed, confused and still half-asleep.

“Your question.” You tilted your face up toward him, eyes soft. “I never got the chance to answer. My answer is yes.”

His expression shifted all at once—confusion melting into realization, then into something bright and helplessly adoring. Before you could blink, he leaned in and kissed you, cradling your face like you were something fragile he was terrified to mishandle.

“You’ve made me the luckiest man alive today…” he murmured against your lips. “Let me show you how much I love you for that.”

He gently kissed you again before disappearing beneath the blankets.

Your breath caught as warm hands spread your thighs, and then his tongue slid through your folds, slow and indulgent. Your back arched, a soft cry of his name leaving your lips as pleasure fluttered up your spine.

And gods, you couldn’t help the smile on your face as your boyfriend took exquisite care of you all over again.

[r-girl]

[vampire-scripture]

Anne Rice about her BDSM books

And that’s what inspired those books, I wanted to put down these fantasies, and wanted to put them down in a way that was apart from the harsh realities of the world, and the gruesomeness of literal violence and cruelty, you know, I wanted to make this place like Disney World, where you can go and you can play with these fantasies of dominance and submission and it was all in a safe place (…). Men are very good at exploring their fantasies (…) but women often don’t get what they want, and they don’t even know what they want, and I wanted to write what turned me on, really. - (source)

[athenianharpy]

Thomas Hewitt x Fem!Reader

___________________________________________

Warning: 18+, Minors do not Interact.

Source of Idea: https://twitter.com/URD4DDIE/status/1500723313357869059?t=TbhKzvlBi_Pb4OTyAPFHfA&s=19

You and Thomas have been in a relationship for a while now, but

[mintmatcha]

"women are disgusting with their smut" men are watching hard-core porn nearly daily

[angelofcain]

݁ ˖Ი𐑼⋆ 18+! husband!simon riley takes care of you

simon riley comes home after a long day, body aching and his mind exhausted. he quirks a brow when he sees the usually bustling kitchen now void of his beloved. he walks down to the only other place his girl would be, their bedroom. and as he guessed, there you were. lying down in your short pink nightgown, hiked up and stopped right at your thighs, leaving much to imagine.

you're on your stomach, arms hugging the pillow your head is on. your eyes are shut and your breathing steady, you're clearly asleep. he stops by the foot of the bed, admiring your figure before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your exposed shoulder. that gentle action does nothing to wake you from your slumber.

he smiles and continues pressing kisses onto your back, his hands reach up to hold your hips. his thumbs gently dig into the plush of your flesh before pushing the fabric up. to his surprise, you're completely bare underneath—your soaked cunt all for display.

he can barely bite back a groan at the sight of you. he can't help but run his thumb over your slit. that earns him a soft whine from your sleep. he softly grins at your reaction and decides to tease you. gently, he parts your folds and eases in two fingers. tight but easy enough because of your wetness. at first, you let out a small noise, but when he slowly pumps his fingers, your body shifts ever so slightly. your face twists as you emit a small moan. 

the sight of you being finger fucked asleep by him was enough to make his pants tighter than usual. he quickens his pace, making you moan louder. he curls his fingers, and that's when your eyes open. softly, your lashes flutter, you look around confused but in pleasure. you look back and see him. "m-mmh babe..?" you ask yet does nothing to stop him. he, however, continues moving his fingers. he then presses a kiss to your exposed neck, murmuring in response; "mhm. I'm home, baby." your eyes shut again as you whine. it isn't long until you got wetter, your legs slightly parting—as if asking for more. 

he smiles subtly at your unraveling. but suddenly, he pulls his fingers out. this makes you whine and look back at him. he chuckles and gets on the bed, between your legs. he unbuckles his belt, throws it to the floor where it can be forgotten, undoes his pants and pulls out his cock. leaking and eager. 

you whine again, peaking from your pillow. "i'm too tired to do anything..." you admit. he chuckles and rubs the back of your thigh. "i know, baby. I'll take care of you." he can see the soft blush on your cheeks but his attention snaps back to your cunt. he positions himself over you, pulling you up by the hips a bit. he nudges the tip in, letting you ease into it before pushing more in. you immediately whimper and clutch the pillow harder. he can feel your body trembling, not from pain, but for more.

he whispers sweet praises to your ear as he pushes more. one of his hands covers yours as the other grips your hip. he kisses your temple and nape when he finally bottoms out. after letting you get used to his size, he pulls out midway and thrusts back in. upon doing so, you clutch the pillow tighter, muffling your moans into it. his hand moves back to your hips as he starts moving. 

"aah... simon!" you whimper. your mouth is open, a string of lewd noises escaping you. you buck your hip, earning a groan out of him from the sudden movement. "you feel sooo good.. so good!" you slur, both from pleasure and your previous slumber.

he pulls out suddenly, then gently flipping you onto your back before pushing back in. you moan incoherent noises at this point, that only get amplified when he bends your legs to your chest. his hands grip the back of your thighs firmly, his cock still moving at its fast pace. your face contorts in ecstasy and your toes curl. this new position making his cock reach even deeper places.

at a particular angle, you cry out. stars flash behind your eyes as he kisses your sweet spot with his tip. he immediately picks up on that and angles his thrusts to hit it repeatedly. you shout his name, your back arches off the bed. "fuck- baby baby- please! oh god!" you sob. he groans as he feels your walls tighten. he folds you further in, fucking you senseless in an attempt to chase your climax.

your noises get louder, loud enough to expect a complaint from their neighbor tomorrow morning. "right there! don't stop- don't fucking stop!" you beg, clawing at his back desperately. he leans down to add to your pleasure, licking on your breast and sucking eagerly. he feels his impending release as well, thrusting roughly a few more times before trying to pull out. but not before you lock your legs around him, keeping him in. "no- no cum in me, give me your baby..!" you whine desperately. that plea alone almost turns him feral. he thrusts into your cunt deep and hard before burying himself deep into you, spilling his seed and painting your insides white with cum. the sensation of getting filled up was too much for you, and just at the same time, a deep and pitched moan signals your release.

he eventually pulls out, peppering kisses all over your face and uttering the softest praise 

p.s thank u to my bf for inspiring this

[adelineriley999]

simon accidently yelled at you

The apartment had gone unbearably quiet after he yelled.

Not the comfortable kind of silence either. Not the kind Simon liked after long missions where the world finally stopped demanding things from him.

This silence was wrong.

You stood by the stove with your back turned, shoulders tense, blinking rapidly like if you just tried hard enough the tears would disappear before he saw them.

Too late.

Simon stared at you like he’d just watched himself pull a trigger he couldn’t take back. His chest rose once. Heavy.

“...Fuck.”

The word came out under his breath, barely audible.

You wiped quickly at your face. “It’s okay.”, you whispered , hurt and embarrassment blooming in your chest.

It wasn’t okay.

And Simon knew it immediately because your voice did that tiny shaky thing it only did when you were trying very hard not to cry.

He felt sick.

The kind where the person you love looks hurt because of you.

Simon took one cautious step forward. Then another.

“Love.”

You shook your head without turning around.

That hurt more than the tears.

Usually when he came home, you gravitated toward him automatically. Hands on his chest, arms around his waist. Soft little smiles like he was something worth waiting for.

Now you were standing as far away from him as the kitchen allowed.

Because he yelled.

Because he came home carrying all his anger and dropped it right at your feet.

His jaw clenched hard enough to ache.

“Don’t do that,” he said quietly.

“Do what?”, you mumbled, trying to smoothen your voice.

“Stand there acting like you deserve that.”

You finally turned a little at that, eyes glossy. “Simon-”

“No.” He scrubbed a hand down his face harshly. “No, don’t excuse it.”

You went silent. He looked wrecked now. More wrecked than when he first walked in.

Rainwater still clung to his jacket. His shoulders sagged with exhaustion, but guilt sat on him even heavier.

“I came home to you,” he said, voice rough. “Warm flat, food on the stove, you waiting for me.” He laughed once bitterly at himself. “And first thing I do is bark at you like some miserable prick.”

Your lips parted slightly.

Simon looked away, jaw flexing.

“Spent two bloody weeks thinking about getting back to you.” His voice got quieter. “Then I walk through that door and make you cry inside five minutes.”

The tears you were trying to stop spilled over again.

The second he saw them, he looked genuinely devastated.

Not angry. Not frustrated.

Devastated.

“Oh, sweetheart…”

He crossed the room immediately then stopped himself halfway, hesitating.

Simon Riley, who would walk through gunfire without blinking, suddenly looking uncertain about whether he was allowed to touch his own wife.

“You don’t have to comfort me,” you whispered.

That nearly broke him, his eyes shut briefly.

“Christ.”

He finally stepped closer carefully, like approaching a wounded animal. His hands settled lightly on your arms, almost tentative.

“I’m sorry love,” he said again. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. Ever.”

You looked down, vision blurring, “I know you’re tired.”

“That’s not an excuse.”

“I wasn’t trying to annoy you-”,you huffed ,choking slightly on the tears.

“I know.” His voice cracked slightly then steadied. “I know you weren’t.”

The guilt in his expression got worse somehow.

“You were taking care of me,” he murmured. “That’s all you were doing.”

You tried to look away again but Simon gently caught your chin before you could.

“Look at me.”

You did. Big mistake.

The second he saw how hard you’d been trying not to cry, his entire face softened into something painfully guilty.

“Didn’t mean to scare you.”, he murmured ,gently cupping your face.

“You never yell at me.”, you sniffled.

That one hit directly to the ribs.

Simon actually flinched.

His thumb brushed carefully under your eye, wiping away a tear with absurd gentleness for a man built like a concrete wall with emotional constipation.

“I swear to you,” he said quietly, “the second it came outta my mouth, I wanted to take it back.”

You could hear how honest it was.

Simon wasn’t good at pretty apologies. He wasn’t poetic, wasn’t smooth. But guilt made him painfully sincere.

“I hate that you looked at me like that,” he admitted softly.

“Like what?”

“Like you were trying to figure out if I was angry with you.”

His voice nearly disappeared on the last part. Because that was the thing eating him alive now. The fact that for even one second, you’d looked at him uncertainly instead of safely.

Simon pulled you against him suddenly, firm and desperate, burying his face into your h.air.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated quietly against your temple. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

You felt the way he held you tighter after every apology, like he was trying to physically make up for it.

“I missed you,” he admitted in a low murmur. “Missed you so bad it felt wrong sleeping without you there.” His arms tightened. “Then I come home and act like that.”

Your hands slowly curled into his shirt. Simon exhaled shakily at the feeling.

“There she is,” he whispered, relief and guilt tangled together. “Thought I fucked this up properly for a second.” he mumbled ,inhaling the scent of your hair.

“You didn’t.”

“Nearly did.”

And judging by the way he kept pressing little apologetic kisses into your hair like a man trying to repent for his crimes against domestic peace, he was going to spend the rest of the night making absolutely sure you knew he regretted it.

lol yeah i'm procrastinating my long fics TT

[athenianharpy]

I cried reading this fanfic!

[athenianharpy]

It's my 11 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

Glad to be here for 11 years and still going. For more years to come and I hope to still support any of you out there! May it fanfics, art and sharing ideas on here, I will forever be grateful to meet you throughout the journey.

[slightly-knot-insane]

Never Satisfied

You are covered in his cum. Your legs are shaking, strands of his thick seed sticking and dripping between your thighs. You can barely talk let alone walk. You come to the bathroom door but you are stopped by huge arms with long fingers hugging you from behind.

"Where do you think you're going?" His voice is low, growling, but soft and comforting and you shiver from delight. "Why are you leaving your place next to me."

"To take a shower."

"Oh no no no." His hands glide across your stomach and cup your tender breast. "I like to see you like this. Marked by my seed. Covered in it. Full of it."

You feel his penis throbbing against your back. "Don't tell me you want more?"

"It's never enough." He lifts you with his huge hands and pushes his pulsating cock between your thighs. "Mmmm, so warm, so soft, so tight."

He starts thrusting in and out, in and out, between your legs. You can see his moist glans getting soapy from your arousal and his cum. You tilt your hips so that his cock can rub against your clit. You hold his arms while he uses you like a doll, thrusting and bucking while he grinds and pleasures himself with your body. You cum and scream and he bites your neck as he shoots another load onto your skin.

"Is this finally enough?" You laugh.

He kisses your nose. "Never. And it's entirely your fault. Around you I can never feel satisfied."

[plottwistpotato]

When a fanfic matches my freak

[redheadedramblings]

Breeding Desire on an Alien World (Oneshot)

Summary: After a successful hunt your mate decides to take you in the forest

Paring: Yautja x Reader

word count: 1370

warnings: Smut, Breeding, Breeding kink

A/N : Hello, This is my first attempt at writing smut! I hope you enjoy! 😉

Masterlist

. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁ ⟡ ܁ . ⊹ ₊ ܁.

The air was thick with alien pollen, glittering in the twin suns’ light. You stumbled through the phosphorescent undergrowth, the survival suit you wore torn at the thigh. The hunt had been violent, final.  But now you stood in a world that hummed with a predatory silence.

That’s when you saw him. Your Mate.

He materialized from the shimmering heat haze near a crystalline rock formation, a nightmare given solid, magnificent form. Eight feet of corded muscle encased in dark biomesh. His face was a tusked, mandibled horror, but his eyes… they glowed with an intelligent, burning amber. He didn’t raise a weapon. He simply looked. His gaze was a physical weight, tracing the line of your throat, the swell of your breasts beneath the suit, and then… it settled. His eyes locked onto the curve of your hips, the soft swell of your belly where your suit had ripped open.

A low, resonant chitter echoed from his chest. You knew it wasn’t a threat. It was… appraisal.

You should have run. Every human instinct screamed it. But your legs locked, shaking in anticipation. His focus was so absolute, so hungry, it pinned your frozen body in place. He took a step forward, the ground barely shifting under his weight. Another. The distance between the two of you evaporated not with violence, but with an unnerving, deliberate grace.

He was before you.  The smell of him—ozone, hot metal, and something primal, musky—flooded your senses. Blood splattered his abdomen from his hunt, warm sweat beaded down his forehead. One large, clawed hand rose. Glancing up at him your eyes fluttered.

Feeling the blunt tips of his claws, sheathed, trace the exposed skin of your lower belly. A shiver, electric and eager, shot through you. His touch was surprisingly careful, almost reverent. The chittering sound came again, deeper, vibrating in the air between you.

“Soft,” his voice grated in your mind, His breathing became heavier, you could practically feel his breath on your body.

His other hand came up, spanning your waist, his thumb stroking the pronounced dip before your hip flared out. A possessive, measuring grip. His psychological desire wasn’t for conquest, you realized with a jolt.  It was for fertility. Your human shape, your softness, was a siren’s call to a fundamental, breeding instinct.

“Please,” you whispered, the word came out as a beg.

“You will carry,” His claw traced lower, hooking into the tear in your suit. With a soft rip, the material gave way, baring you from navel to thighs to the alien air. you gasped. His amber gaze drank in the sight of your pale, completely human flesh, the thatch of curls at the junction of your thighs.

His own armor began to retract with a series of soft, biomechanical clicks. His armor now stripped and his body bare. Thats when you saw it. Thick, veined, and utterly alien, crowned with a smooth, ridged head. A bead of clear fluid welled at the tip. Your mind went blank with a mixture of lust and a deep, shocking throb of arousal. The air between your legs grew damp.

He didn’t ask. He acted.

With one smooth motion, he turned you, his chest against your back, his member now rubbing against your back. One arm banded across your collarbone, not to choke, but to anchor. The other hand slid down your trembling stomach, fingers splaying over your soft belly, pressing possessively.

“This will swell,” he growled, his mandibles brushing your temple. “You will be round with my seed.”

His other hand found your core, blunt fingers parting your folds. You cried out, arching against him as he found the slick evidence of your excitement. He grunted, a sound of pure male satisfaction. He coated his massive length with your wetness, the friction making you whimper.

Then, he positioned himself.

The pressure was immense, unbelievable as you stretched, filled in a way you couldn’t have conceived. A broken sob escaped your lips. He stilled, buried to the hilt, his body trembling with the effort of his control. The sensation wasn’t pain—not exactly. It was an overwhelming fullness, a claim that reached into your very core.

“You take me,” he growled in your mind. “Your body knows its purpose.”

He began to move.

It began as a slow, deep, relentless rhythm. Each withdrawal was an agony of emptiness, each thrust a breathtaking reclamation. The ridged head of him stroked over a spot inside you that ignited stars behind your eyelids. Your soft belly quivered with each powerful drive of his hips, his hand still splayed there, as if feeling for the moment of conception.

“Oh, god,” you choked out, your finger nails digging into the flesh of his forearm.

"Look at it," the deep, guttural voice vibrated through your chest. "Look at your tight little hole, stretched around me."

You forced your eyes down, past your chest, down to where your bodies joined. His cock—fuck, it was a cock, but it was like nothing human—was buried to the hilt inside your cunt. It was thick, ridged, and obscenely large, making your pussy lips strain wide open around the base. You could see the faint bulge of his shaft deep inside you, lighting up your stretched flesh from within.

"You take it so well, female," the Yautja rumbled. His massive, clawed hand splayed across your belly, possessive, heavy. "But you are made for more. You are made to be filled."

"Fuck," you whimper.

He slams back in, hard, the impact jolting your entire body. “You will be fucked until my seed takes root."

"Y-yes!" you scream, nails digging into the tough hide of his arms. "Please, I need it, fuck, I need you to fill me up!"

"Mine," he roars, and his rhythm falters, grows wilder, more urgent. One hand moves from your belly to grab your chin as he lifts it up, holding you in place for his gaze. "You will watch. You will watch when I claim you."

You feel it building in him, a coiling tension in the massive body pinning you down. His thrusts become shorter, harder, grinding deep. The knot at his base begins to swell further, stretching your already-wide cunt to a burning, exquisite limit.

"Take your breeding, female. Take your fucking purpose."

His pace is relentless, a brutal, piston-like rhythm that steals your breath. Each thrust bottoms out, his heavy balls slapping against your ass, the swollen knot at the base of his shaft pounding against your outer lips, promising an even deeper, more impossible stretch. The ridges rub your g-spot with every inward stroke, a continuous, maddening pressure that has you seeing stars.

"Your cunt is greedy," he snarls, his mandibles flaring. "It suckles my cock. It tries to milk me already." He leans down, his hot breath washing over your face. "You want it? You want my cum deep in your womb?"

His pace increased. The wet, rhythmic slap of his flesh against yours, the squelch of your own arousal, filled the silent jungle. Pleasure, hot and coiling, built low in your own belly, mirroring the place his seed sought. He was chasing his own peak, his breeding instinct a tangible force in the air. His thrusts became punishing, precise, driving you up onto your toes.

You felt the exact moment his control shattered. A roar, raw and guttural, tore from his chest. He slammed into you, hilt-deep, and held. You felt the hot, pulsing flood of him deep inside, wave after wave, marking you, claiming you, seeding you. The heat of it, the sheer animal reality, triggered your own climax. It  crashed over you, milking him, pulling every last drop from his throbbing length as your vision whited out.

You stood locked together with your mate, panting, for long moments. The internal pulse of him slowing. His hand on your belly pressed gently.“It is done,” his voice came, satisfied, primal. He did not pull out. He remained embedded, as if ensuring not a single drop was lost. His mandibles clicked softly near your ear. "Every drop is for you," he murmurs against your flesh, before his head raises, his eyes burning into yours. "And I am not done with you yet."

[ruicui]

oversharing online is so important cus like what if someone needed to know that

[nyraeafterdark]

Ngl I think some of the Kombat boys would go a lil feral if the reader was ovulating but that’s just my thoughts lmao

anon i am afraid you are completely right 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ let’s see who becomes absolutely famished for you when you begin ovulating 🤔

Pairing(s): Mortal Kombat Characters x Reader

Warnings: ur ovulating hard and they become needy asf

A/N: these are the top ones in my personal list and i will die by them 🫠 i mean uff

Masterlist

Syzoth:

✧ You KNOW I had to do this man fs

✧ He’s the first one that came to mind ngl

✧ Will know before it fully hits you

✧ His senses go off like a damn fire alarm

✧ You’ll catch him sniffing the air periodically, tongue slipping out to taste it

✧ Will stare at you hard once he realizes you’re about to ovulate

✧ This man cannot sit still for the life of him

✧ Has to be touching you at all times

✧ Rubbing your lower back

✧ Draping himself over you

✧ Burying his face in your scent glands just to get a deeper whiff

✧ “You smell sweet like honey… it’s distracting.”

✧ You’ll see him in his reptile form more often, with his scales shining brighter and prettier colors

✧ Becomes more territorial around you, often glaring at the boys if they come too close

✧ When you actually start to ovulate, he’s on you fast

✧ I’m talking face pressed up against your pussy

✧ He lives there now

✧ “I can stay here all night… you smell divine.”

✧ His only sustenance becomes your arousal dripping for him

✧ You know he’s lapping at your cunt like a dehydrated lizard

✧ “You’re irresistible like this… too irresistible.”

✧ Definitely triggers his rut

✧ You run hotter while ovulating and he absolutely loves that

✧ Becomes slightly drunk on you the moment he sinks into you

✧ “You’re so warm… I can’t think straight.”

✧ His instincts absolutely take over

✧ Will bite down on your neck while he thrusts into your hot core

✧ Holds you down in a mating press, forcing you to take his fat cock

✧ “Just breathe—let your body take me deeper.”

✧ Determined to fill you up as many times as it takes

✧ His eyes turn into slits as he pumps you full of his spunk

✧ Desperately wants it to take

✧ “I’ll fill you again and again if I have to.”

✧ You’re definitely going to have a fun week with him

Bi-Han:

✧ This one is obvious, I think, for many of us

✧ Only notices you may be ovulating when you start squirming around uncomfortably

✧ You keep adjusting your bra, massaging your breast as you huff about the soreness

✧ Keep complaining about oddly specific cravings

✧ (chocolate-covered lime slices with a sprinkle of tajín goes hard, let’s be honest)

✧ Definitely confirms it when you start getting clingier and trying to initiate sex more often

✧ He’s nothing if not a willing lover

✧ He does, after all, need a future heir, no?

✧ He’s mean about it though

✧ “You’re needier than usual,” he’ll note with indifference. “Are you ovulating? Every time you do, you hover around me like a lost thing.”

✧ He’ll act indifferent about you wanting him at first

✧ Right up until you flat-out ask him to fuck you

✧ Will smirk and make you wait just a bit longer

✧ Wants to make you needier on purpose because he’s a shithead

✧ “You want me to help you? Say it without shaking.”

✧ But trust me, when he does acquiesce? It’s the best fuck of your life

✧ Think: the ruthlessness of hate sex mixed with the passion of lovemaking

✧ Makes sure he’s plowing your spine respectfully

✧ “Stop squirming. You wanted this.”

✧ Despite being oh-so cruel to you, he still has wandering, loving hands

✧ He’s definitely caressing every plush part of you

✧ And he’s 100% imagining them getting even softer as you grow with child

✧ “You’ll swell with my child, and everyone will know exactly who touched you so well.”

✧ Get ready for a long, fulfilling night with this man

✧ You know he won’t let you go until he’s certain he’s filled you up enough to take

Kung Lao:

✧ Another obvious one

✧ This man has a giant 'I have a breeding kink' sign above his head

✧ That’s basically canon for most of the MK fanbase

✧ But I think for him, it’s more about the risk of the possibility than the act itself

✧ While he does want a loving family with you one day

✧ He is WAY too young to start one now

✧ Still though

✧ There’s something so primal about filling you up while you’re at peak fertility

✧ It scratches an itch he didn’t know he had

✧ He’s also a bit of a munch when you’re ovulating

✧ You’re just so sweet and smell so good down there for him

✧ “You’re intoxicating… it’s not fair to do this to me.”

✧ Turns into a whining mess over it

✧ Spends hours between your thighs making sure he gets his fill

✧ He’s making sure you’re prepared to take him fully

✧ And when he’s plowing into you?

✧ He’s trying desperately not to spill too quickly

✧ “You’re pulling me so deep—like you want me to get you pregnant.”

✧ He’s mesmerized watching your arousal drip from your hole as he fucks you

✧ You’re so much wetter when you ovulate

✧ The sight of him covered in your slick makes something possessive snap in him

✧ “You’re soaking me up… Gods, you’re incredible.”

✧ He’s absolutely putting you in a mating press or doggy

✧ He doesn’t want a single drop spilling from your quivering hole

✧ And if it does, he’s lovingly pushing it right back inside

✧ “Take it. Every bit of it. I want it right where I put it.”

✧ Yeah… he’s definitely trying not to think about fucking you while your breasts drip milk

✧ Let him live

Liu Kang:

✧ I hesitated adding him, but honestly it makes sense

✧ Canonically this man gave EVERYTHING up for peace

✧ If everything hadn’t been on the line, I genuinely think he would’ve wanted to be a family man

✧ Therefor, I think it’s safe to say he’d get a little feral when you start ovulating

✧ This man is SO in tune with your body

✧ Might as well call him your flow chart because he already knows what day you begin to ovulate

✧ “You’re warm, starlight… it’s starting, isn’t it?”

✧ He turns the whole thing into something sensual

✧ Your boobs ache? He’s already massaging them before you even ask

✧ “You’re aching aren't you? I can help with that.”

✧ You’ve got weird cravings? He somehow already bought whatever it is

✧ Libido spikes? He’s got you pinned to the bed with soft kisses trailing everywhere

✧ And while the goal is to keep you satisfied, his personal goal is to fuck you through all six days of your fertile window

✧ “I want you. All of you. Every day you’ll allow me.”

✧ He’s so sweet with you, so gentle

✧ Cherishes you and devours you at the same time

✧ Absolutely a fan of your slightly bloated ovulation belly

✧ You’re squishy, which means his hands get to dig in deeper

✧ “You’re so warm and plush under my hands… you’re perfect.”

✧ Also obsessed with how swollen your breasts get

✧ He’s on them constantly, mouthing them as much as you'll allow him

✧ Whispers filth and devotion in the same breath while his thrusts get deep and purposeful

✧ He absolutely talks to you like you’re already pregnant

✧ “Look how you glow. Anyone would think you already belonged fully to me. Be a good starlight and take everything I give you.”

✧ Spills inside you and keeps his hips flush until he’s done

✧ If any leaks? He’s gently pushing it back where it came from

✧ “It’s a sin to waste a god’s gift, you know?”

✧ Overall, he takes care of you in the sweetest, most reverent way possible

[monstersholygrail]

Ever since you found out there was a Horny Ghost trapped and living in your house, you’ve been trying to help him move on. It started out when you moved into your new place, a house you got for a steal. You thought it was too good to be true until you saw the place in person and realized it was actually perfect.

With one little flaw that perhaps proved it was too good to be true.

Only days after you first moved in… weird things started happening. At first your panties just kept going missing. You figured the washer must be eating them up but no matter what you tried you could never find them.

Then you started waking up to your sheets soaked and the room reeking of sex. You never remembered having any steamy dreams but you must’ve if your bed was this soaked by morning.

But then things got even more physical. Strange sensations of pulling and tugging stretched at your towels as you were leaving the shower and at your clothes whenever you’d walk around in your pajamas. At that point it was impossible to deny the fact that you weren’t alone in this place and the other entity wanted something from you.

That’s when he finally appeared. Horny Ghost was perhaps the sexiest man you’ve ever seen even with his frame completely transparent and his skin a deathly hue. Your first thought when he revealed himself to you was literally, ‘awe, what a shame he’s dead. I so would’ve tapped that.’

And as if he read your mind he actually managed to reach out and touch you. His excitement made the atmosphere buzz with electricity and power around him. It shot straight down to your core, already making you more horny than before. The next few hours were a blur of fucking each other in the air in positions you never dreamed you’d be able to go in. If anyone had walked in they’d have thought you possessed.

Ever since then you’ve been working with him, trying to help him figure out ways to move on. Though it doesn’t seem to be as important to him as it is you. Whenever you try and get him to focus on figuring out why he’s stuck he just leans in and says you look so beautiful when you’re trying to think. Somehow you always end up fucking each other again after that.

In the midst of one of these fuck sessions, the pounding of his girthy ghost cock fucks a thought right into your head. A first for you but you weren’t gonna complain. It would take some planning but you were positive you’d finally found the key to sending him to the other side.

So the next time another attempt leads into a lustful distraction, you oh so subtly insist on taking control… and then you make him absolutely regret it. Dragging countless orgasms from both of your spent and overheated bodies. Even his usually freezing frame is now a sizzling warmth that practically encourages more of your gooey slick to trickle out and paint your bodies in a mix of combined release and new arousal.

Horny Ghost’s jaw drops, his eyes rolling back into his head, and a smirk playing on his lips. He can’t believe you right now, feeling a joint emotion of respect and rippling anger. His hands desperately pinch into your plush sides, needing to mark you, wanting to affect you more than you’re currently wrecking him.

As much as you’re trying to hide it, you’re not doing too much better. Your body trembles every time you bounce up and down on his cock, begging to let yourself fall and allow him to take control. It takes all your energy to keep going, your poor pussy spasming like it’s begging both for rest and to cum again.

“How you- hhng!- feeling, baby? So blissed out you can’t help but find p-peace?” You ask in between choked moans, his shaft rubbing up against your sopping walls, igniting every nerve of ecstasy within you.

His eyes widen, chest heaving as realization dawns at what you’re trying to do. You’re actually trying to get him to cross over. The fact that you were serious about all that astounds him. Why would he ever wanna leave when he’s finally found a perfectly tight cunt that massages his length like it was made just for him? The way she clutches onto him like she wants to suck him dry. That pussy is a work of art. No way he’s giving that up.

“You sneaky lil aahh! minx. Someone ought to teach you a lesson— fuck!” He snarls, fucking up into you even harder and jostling your body so deliciously. For a moment he’s entranced by the alluring jiggle and movement of your drool-worthy breasts before he snaps back into focus by your breathless giggle. “You think it’s gon’ be that easy?”

“I almost have you. I know I do,” you reply oh so confidently that it has him seething.

During your time together when have you been the one to get the upper hand on him? He thinks you need a serious reminder about that.

“Do you really? Mmph, yeah, we’ll see about that.”

With a speed as fast as the wind he gets a burst of energy and the air around you crackles. Before you can catch your breath he’s flipping you around like you’re nothing but a doll to use for his pleasure. Pinning your wrists above your head with a force you can’t see, he picks up the pace, pounding away at your insides like he’s trying to rearrange your guts. And with his powers he just might.

Your screams of pleasure are almost as loud as the squelching of your cunt every time your bodies meet. Despite the fact that his body has no affect on the outer world, the force of his thrusts drive you up the bed, causing it to creak with resistance and smack against the wall in warning. Yet he doesn’t slow down. If anything it fuels him to go even harder.

Shockwaves course through your body as your orgasm slams into you. You’re unsure if it’s his powers or just the sheer intensity of your climax as your insides buzz with pleasure and shake you to your very soul. As you feel your release gushing out of you the world goes dark and still.

Then you wake with a scream, your eyes flying open to find him still going. Heaving breaths leave you as another orgasm begins to build. Looking around you’re not sure how much time as passed or if he ever really stopped. But just like before he revealed himself to you, your bed is drenched with a mess of your slippery fluids. Soaking the mattress to its very core.

“Awe, how cute. Look who’s a-awake. The one so nngh! confident just a few hours ago.”

Hours?

You can’t even begin to think about that right now as his still rock hard cock swivels around inside you, hitting every spot that drives you to a blissful insanity. Screams pour from your lips and you’re unable to stop them. No energy left for anything but taking you over that edge once again.

And when you do your world fades away. All that’s left is each rocking of his hips as he rails into you. He’s taken possession to a whole new level as he transcends your body to a new plane is existence. Your cunt milks his cock, begging him to join you in this sensation. After all this time he can’t hold back any longer, coming right after you with a snarl that shakes the shutters and makes the house groan.

He buries himself to the hilt, ejecting ropes of hot sticky semen straight into your narrow channel. Together your bodies tremble against each other, barely any energy left between you, but the heat still well alive.

“You can’t get rid of me that easy,” he purrs in your ear and a chill shoots down your spine, swearing you can almost feel his hot breath ghost across your skin.

It seems it’ll take a lot more than this to get him to pass on and rest. In the meantime he’ll find a perfectly good resting spot right in your arms and in your perfect cunt.

Read more cute and smutty fics like this right here on my Patreon for as low as $2 a month! Where you'll get early access and exclusive content daily!

[symbiomancy]

mirror —ghost

—summary: The summer heat has you slipping between sleep and reality. Something not-so corporeal helps you cool off.

—warnings: ghost x human, monsterfucking, piv sex, mirror sex (technically), creampie, dubcon/somnophilia.

—word count: 1,3k

—a/n: no thoughts just horny. also on AO3

The best thing about living alone, you’ve come to realize, is the privacy. You’re free to do whatever: take your time in the bathroom in the morning or whenever you want, spend an eternity soaking in the claw-footed tub this house came with, walk around your home in the skimpiest clothing imaginable (not only does it help to beat the summer heat, it also (technically) leaves you less laundry to do), splay out on your king-sized bed in a starfish position, limbs akimbo, drag the full-length mirror in your bedroom in front of your bed and stare at the way any dildos you own get swallowed up by your greedy cunt.

No point in wondering why the last owner was in such a rush to get rid of it; so much so that he accepted well below market price for a freshly renovated, fully-furnished house with a moderate backyard in a relatively safe neighborhood.

The longer this heatwave lasts, the skimpier your clothes get. There’s barely any fabric to cling to your constantly sweat-slick skin by this point, just a tiny skirt hiked so far up your bare skin touches the wooden chairs when you sit and a shirt that’s more spaghetti straps than torso. The huge, double-door fridge is a reprieve, cool air billowing out and caressing your heated skin. It almost feels like a genuine caress, like someone’s cool hands sliding down your body.

Seriously, you need to get out of the house and meet people instead of fantasizing about the cool touch of your fridge. But the outside is infinitely hotter than the inside.

You kick the bedsheet away from your body, grumbling at the lingering day heat. You’d stripped the sheet from the duvet the moment spring chill had plunged into summer heat and stuffed the latter into the closet until fall. Even then, you tend to wake up without the sheet in the morning, finding it crumbled on the floor. Yesterday was another sweltering day. It has left the air stuffy and the fans only push the warm, stale heat around without providing any relief. You unplug them in a fit of frustration and cringe at the feeling of moisture when you lay against your pillow again.

Sleep doesn’t completely evade you but you’re not fully asleep, either. You think so, at least. There are moments of brief blackouts, where you open your eyes and turn to look at the time only to find not even an hour has passed. Your eyelids feel heavy.

Then, there are the hands on your body. Caressing, petting, groping. They’ve been there for some time now, just touching, feeling. They’re not cold, just cool enough to feel pleasant against your heated skin and inject some relief into your sluggish thoughts of sun and heat. A sigh escapes your lips at the sensation. Fingertips trance the expanse of your skin, draw constellations between your moles and freckles. The other hand moves to rest on your breast. It kneads the soft flesh, gently pinches your nipple between its fingers, runs a thumb over it.

You inhale sharply, heart thrumming in your chest, pressing your thighs together. It does little to quell the desire for friction, or touch. The hand tracing its fingertips down your body reaches your hip, then skirts across your flesh to rest on the inside of your thigh. You blink languidly; the heat is stifling, your head feels thick.

Cool fingers dip between your legs, press against your clit like — like they’re what? Testing the waters. You stifle the half-baked moan in the back of your throat.

The hands leave you all at once and you croak out a sound that doesn’t even sound like you, desperate and needy. They’re back not even a moment later, though, heavy on your hips as if they’re trying to guide you. You reach for a pillow and prop it under yourself. It’s a nice dream, you don’t need it to end because it forces you into an uncomfortable position that drives home the realization that it’s a dream. Because then you’ll wake up, alone again.

Something thick and heavy rests on your pelvis. Maybe this makes you a bad sex partner in this brief dream but you don’t want to reach out and touch it, guide it. If it’s your dream, your partner should know the where and how. The cool hands planted firmly on your hips pull you forward just slightly and the weight from your pelvis disappears. It rests against your entrance, but doesn’t push forward just yet. One hand leaves you and the tip of its cock drags through your slick folds, bumps against your clit.

“Please,” you croak, staring at the ceiling. Your throat is dry.

The stranger’s cock angles itself against your entrance and pushes in carefully. You take a slow, deep breath in, try to relax around the pleasant intrusion. The hands — under your knees now, guiding your legs apart. A body presses against your thighs. Whoever it is, stops, pauses for a moment. You clench around the cock buried in your cunt. A cold, shuddering breath hits you. Goosebumps rise on your skin. The hands push your knees further apart until there’s an ache in your muscles, and then they depart, one finding a spot on your waist, the other your breast.

It moves, then. The cock nestled deep within you sharply pulls back and thrusts in again. You scramble for anchor, to grab onto something but all you come up with is sheet that tugs loose. Their pace is dizzying, thighs slapping against yours, cock plunging into your wet cunt. The sound is so wet and lewd and goddamned loud in the still silence of your home. You go to stifle the half-moan half-groan in your throat but— wait, it’s your house, your dream, who gives a fuck about the neighbors? The cock in your cunt pulls nearly all the way out and thrusts in again and hits that spot, so good, dragging against your slick walls and you swear you feel every groove and dip, every goddamn vein. Your moan slips out involuntarily, and whoever it is here with you, seems invigorated.

The hand on your breast leaves, a forearm rests around your thigh, pulling it up and — fuck, their cock drives in so incredibly deep you nearly choke on your own spit. You scramble upwards, resting your weight on your elbows to look at your partner —

There’s no one there. Your bedroom is empty. But there’s a hand on your torso, cool fingers digging into your flesh and a forearm supporting your thigh and the shape of someone’s shoulder against your Achilles’ tendon. There’s a cock plunging into your cunt and you hear someone’s labored breathing.

The full-length mirror skids across the laminated floor and stops in front of your bed. Something invisible is thrusting into your pussy, gaping back at you in the reflection. Your face burns — your whole body burns. You can’t look away from the debauchery staring back at you. Whoever — whatever — it is, thrusts harshly, cold hands pulling you against their body. Your thighs are wet and sticky, slamming against theirs, your hole gaping back at you, being abused by something you can’t see. It sends you hurtling over the edge.

You come around the phantom cock with something reminiscent of a shriek and a moan and terror and pleasure all combined. Your cunt clenches around the thing your muscles sore and sweat beading on your skin. The cock plunges into you again and again and again and you blink back the tears and the fear and the overwhelming pleasure. The fingers on your body dig into your flesh and the cock nestled in you buries deep, thighs pressing against your own, and spills. It’s so warm, so pleasant. The mirror skids closer, right until it touches the edge of the bed.

Your cunt is forced wide open. Stuffed. The pearlescent cum coats your walls, oozes out from inside you, dribbles onto your bedsheets. The cock in you stays there but the body moves.

A small fogged patch, like warm breath, appears on the mirror, and then, letters.

Hi :)

Oh. So that's why this place was so cheap.

banners by @/cafekitsune

[k1ttycemetery]

🦄₊˚⊹ ᰔ ‘’ OH WEE, I LIKE MY HORSE, MY PONY MY HORSE! ‘’ – THE BEAST X FEM!READER – SMUT & FLUFF

THUMBNAIL MADE BY ME ALL CREDITS FOR ART GO TO OG CREATORS!

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. {MDNI} ⋆ 𐙚 ̊.

4117 words.

SUMMARY: ‘’ Riding, riding, riding around on my little white pony that’s how we get down! ‘’

TAGS/WARNINGS: no plot straight porn, this is utterly filthy, p in v, unprotected sex, mask kink, monsterfucking, blood play, riding, established relationships, womb fucking, breeding, praise kink, pet names, squirting, cum inflation, daddy kink, hair pulling, anal play, cnc, aftercare!

A/N: hihi! Ik it’s been a fat minute since i posted, i wanna apologize because i’ve struggled with some monster writers block + finals week slaughtered me.. Im trying to get back to writing and doing requests, just give me time babies <3

PROOFREAD!

NSFW UNDER THE CUT.

‘’mmphmm! ooah–’’ 

Huff, huff,, huff–

You were currently face down against the old factory concrete floor with your ass allll the way up in the air, knees bent, face crushed against the concrete as a hulking 7 '4 giant kneeled behind you. Greedy hands palming your thick ass as he growled and snarled against his welder's mask. Using your completely raw and purple cheeks as leverage as he rammed you back on his throbbing monster cock that was latched onto your womb, ‘’aahh.. ahhh, uhhhgh!’’ you wanted your big boy to breed you so bad oh my godddd.. The way his thick curved cock carved you out so perfectly, hauling his absolutely chubby shaft perfectly into your tiny hole that had been perfectly trained and stretched out just for him. ♡

He was so good at fucking you, it was like he climbed ancient mountains to learn just how to please you. Every time you two had sex he hammered you so good you couldn’t help but to squirt so hard on him you gave him a crystal shower. Your body jiggled and moved like an ocean’s waves, hypnotizing the poor beast with how smooth your body flowed with every thrust. He moved like a well oiled machine to keep plugging you up with every thick and chunky liter of his potent cum, your belly was heavy and sloshing from how many liters he’s already pumped you full with. He was like a bear, trying to feed your hungry cunt every last drop for winter so you could be all fat and happy. The thunderous claps of his thick hips slapping against your well loved ass filling the dry air as he held you down in a yoruichi pose. Stretched out like a kitty cat, ass all the way up in the air, on your tippy toes, your upper half squished firmly against the floor and arms stretched out. The cold floor stimulating your nipples and making you twitch as he dragged his cock innnnn and outtttt..

Folds soaked and stretched around his thick base, his large breeder balls smacking your clit like it was intentionally bullying you. Every dark and thick pubic hair attached to that man’s pelvis kept sticking to your sloppy cunt, adding to the almost painful stimulus that kept burning your nerves to a crisp. ‘’D–Daddyy ♡!’’ You wailed out as that thick gloved hand came prowling down onto your tender ass. Spanking you so hard every spank knocked tears out of you, ‘’1! Hic 2! hic 3–!’’ He didn’t even need to verbalize anything, he had you trained like a pavlovian dog. Every time he spanked you knew he wanted you to count, you just subconsciously did it because of how he conditioned you to do it every time without fail. In return? Your reward? Those fat fucking hips slamming into you like a train wreck, gyrating his hips roughly to burn the nerves in your puffy clit as his other hand went to your hair and tugged it back. Making your neck crane, using it as a rein like you were a pony to fuck you so hard you just uncontrollably squirted down his length. Warm squirt plowing out of your well-used cunt as it splashed all over the floor, making the stained concrete floor even more slippery. 

Your wet thighs quivered violently as his hand spread open your swollen cheeks, slipping his thick & long index finger into your tight ass as he used the rest of his fingers to grip your fat. Making you roll back into his plowing, him fingering your ass just made you squirt harder. Pussy threatening to push him out as you thrashed around, screaming bloody murder. Your hand abandoned its place on the floor and went to your clit, using your palm to rub the whole thing as your hips had a mind of their own. Using his hips like a trampoline as you bounced back on his dummy thick cock trying to breach your cervix so he could properly breed your womb like you needed it too. ♡

His finger moved quicker in your tight hole, curling around the smooth flesh as his loud grunts and animalistic groans bellowed out like a crocodile's mating call. His back arching so he could angle his thrusts juuusttt right to viciously bully his gargantuan shaft right into a tender spot that had your life flashing before your eyes. ‘’A–Ah! Fuck!’’ You squealed, head swinging low as he hit your g-spot and a sensitive spot in your ass at the same time. It was like a little control button for you that made your body equivalent to jello. Your fingers moved quicker on your clit, trying the hardest to knock another brain melting orgasm out. Rubs turned into urgent slaps which caused your hips to jump against him, his thick thumb swirled in your hole as his cock kept brutally humiliating your poor pussy. You were so slick and wet it was globbing down your thighs and hanging from your folds, dripping into small pools on the floor. You probably looked so stupid and silly writhing on that nasty floor, hair in your face as you desperately slapped your abused cunt. You had zero rhythm, your brain was too foggy and had the consistency of melted ice cream. 

The beast grumbled behind you, his hulking breaths that almost sounded like a bull huffing and puffing from behind his welders mask as his eyes were glued to his thick cock punching in and out of you. Thumb rimming the shit outta you till you saw blue, his huge thighs shifted to straddle your ass better as he tried to hammer down on your womb. Trying to get through your cervix that had not yet faltered its defenses. ‘’a–ah! ah!’’ You wailed out as his cock and thumb popped right out of your body, he watched in pure awe as you squirted him out with a slick POP! Both holes pulsing and fluttering as a fountain of clear squirt splattered out from your abused flesh onto the floor, almost having the pressure as a pressure washer as your thighs trembled. The cutest little gasps and hiccups escaping you as he watched his creampie’s drip from you. His large hand that was covered in your juices came up and spread open your folds. Watching your small stretched hole clench around nothing and sputter out cum.

You panted and heaved for your life, eyes shut as you tried to overcome the violent aftershocks that felt like being electrocuted. His hands gently gripped around your bruised welt covered hips and dragged you back towards him. Wincing in pain from the welts and friction blisters all over your ass and hips as he adjusted you to sit on his lap facing you. Holding you close and letting you ride it out–Yeah no, he just used his tip to torture you. Not sticking it in at all, just letting it bump your pulsing hole that was trying to catch him. Your shaky arms wrapped around his heaving shoulders for stability as you grinded against his angry cockhead, resting your head against his in a loving gesture that he gladly reciprocated as he smothered his shaft in your juices. His poor head was all fuzzy from you whimpering in his ear, his fingers gripping around your soft flesh harder as he tried to restrain himself from just shoving it back in. 

Till you sank down on his cock, whimpering loudly in his ear like a fawn bleating as you sank back down with embarrassing ease on that fat monster cock. Your head lolling forward as your tongue licked a column of rough skin, your hips made haste in treating him like a horse. Forcing him to pump his cock inside you at a vigorous pace as his thighs trembled. Knees scraping against the concrete floor as his hand reached into your hair and tugged back. Watching your fucked out & cock drunk expression, the furrowed brows, half lidded eyes that were slowly becoming crossed, the way those perfect lips gaped like a fish as your thighs squeezed his torso. Swiveling your hips to stimulate your clit against his rough skin and wet pubic hair, ‘’haaa–dadddyy!’’ 

The beast’s vision was all blurry, his almost asthmatic sounding pants and grunts got more animalistic as his other arm wrapped tightly around your lower back helped you ride him like a Charbray bull. You were milking him to literal shame. His balls were tightening up like a taut bow as his heavy chest violently rose and fell. ‘’A–AH!’’ You yelped as your whole body jolted up, eyes widening as his big tip pressed into your cervix. He stopped completely once he realized what he just hit, but he didn’t stop. He released your hair as both arms wrapped tight around you. One around your lower back the other on your upper, keeping you in a bear hug as he aggressively threw his hips up. Panting with pure determination and desperation as his tip painfully slowly stretched past that tight wall. ‘’F–FUCK! U,UH! WAITWAIT!’’ You screamed, thrashing against him was completely useless as he kept going. The stretch was beyond painful, and had tears streaming down your face. With a devastating pop he was fully sheathed in your cervix, he didn’t even wait for you to get used to it before pumping into you violently. Chasing his orgasm as he used you as a fucktoy, your brain was just empty. Blue screened, sent back to the factory settings. Your eyes were so rolled back he could see every vein in the whites of your eyes as he brutally pulverized your pussy into mush.

Your hands gripped that disgusting fur coat of his, palming the wet bloody fur as the stupidest high pitched noises came from your voice box. The bump on your belly bulged obscenely, skin forming a lump on your lower abdomen as loud squeaks escaped you. You sounded like one of those squeaky pigs, loud and high pitched from how hard he was going. It was a rouughh stretch that you never seemed to accommodate because he was making it physically impossible. His large arms squeezed around your torso, crushing your ribs and knocking the wind out of your lungs. 

‘’Uhh.. Uh!’’ 

God your throat was burning, every inch of you felt like you had been smothered in gasoline. His dick was so goddamn good it had you speaking animalese, rambling and babbling over basic sentences that even a toddler couldn’t fuck up. He was absolutely obliterating your pussy, filthy squelches that sounded like a wet sponge being thrown full force into a concrete wall filled the air your strawberry–No, cherry ass was slamming violently down against his burly pelvis as he tried his hardest to drain any red blood from you and fill it up with his cum. Is it pink? No it’s white from how much he’s mindlessly dumping into you to prove how much he adores you. His thick arms flexed violently, taut muscles strangling you as he kept dragging you down like a fleshlight.

‘’Hhppfff–Gnngh..’’ Came from that rusty welders mask, you were driving this monster up the wall and then some. His poor brain that was once focused on hatred of the younger generation and brutally tearing someone's jaw from their skull to trying to ruin your cervix, his large hands were trembling against your body. Digits flexing around you, groping your soft body. Making bruises the size of a baseball all over you, you could feel him swelling in you–He was about to pop your pussy like a damn grape.

His thrusts got quicker and deeper, and somehow–Meaner. Big ol’ thighs clenching hard beneath you as he chased his orgasm. You could hear his rough growls getting louder and louder, every growl was broken up by a sharp intake for air. Like he was feining for oxygen from how hard he was going.

‘’O–OH FUCK! AH!’’ You squeaked out when he came for the…Well probably the 30th time in your spent pussy. His hips slapped against yours as he gave himself a few stuttering pumps as you felt warm and thick cum fill your belly. Your belly was thicker than before–a lot thicker because of him constantly filling you up like a Dutch oven. He didn’t pull out, he stayed slotted deep. His hips gave little pathetic grinds against you as weak little pumps of cum came leaking out of his exhausted tip. His head tiredly came forward and nuzzled against yours, a deep groan of satisfaction and love coming from deep in his throat. His grip on your body softened, rubbing what dark purple and red pools he made all over your body. Trying to soothe the ache from them, you were absolutely dumbstruck. Still going through the violent aftershocks and your walls wouldn’t stop milking him in a poor excuse for more despite him fattening you up like a cookie. He made sure your legs were nice and tight around him as he stood up, carrying you gently back to one of the abandoned storage rooms he made your bedroom.

[faith-forgxtten-land]

Sloppy | Raphael

okay so this wasn’t a request but i’ve been MIA for a while and i haven’t really had the opportunity to write much over the past few months so this is really just writing practice (forgive me if it's subpar, i'm rusty)

also, if you've requested something, i promise that i'm working on it so please be patient!

made with bayverse in mind!!

warnings: NSFW, first thing i’ve properly written in months so be kind people, swearing, afab reader — mentions of pussy etc., oral sex (f!receiving), raph is a little feral and mean i feel… everyone is 18+!!, not proofread so lemme know if you notice any glaring errors

summary: raph eats your pussy; he’s greedy and sloppy (it’s perfect)

word count: 651 (short and not sweet)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

raph eats pussy like a man possessed. he’s sloppy and loud about it, spit and slick all over his face as he spreads your legs as wide as possible and then even wider. your hips ache from the stretch, and you can already tell you’ll be sore tomorrow, but all you can do is whine and moan, hands covering your heated face in a futile effort to silence yourself.

you can’t even grind down against him like this because the bastard has one arm casually slung over your stomach, his huge palm pressing down just so, enough to make you whimper. you can feel him grinning meanly against your thigh with each failed arch of your spine, nipping your flesh in cruel, teasing bites that are sure to leave purple marks, before he continues to lap at your cunt like he hasn’t eaten in a week.

“raph,” you wheeze desperately, whimpers getting stuck in your throat as he practically growls against you. the sound is dark and agonised, and you can’t help but gasp as he pushes a thick digit inside you. “raph, raph, raph—”

he tongues your clit and crooks his finger, and you can no longer breathe, hands now clenched into bedsheets and thighs shaking with every sloppy touch. “that’s it,” he rumbles, the vibrations only making you tremble more. “that’s it, give it to me.”

your moans fill the room in perfect harmony with the filthy squelch of your pussy as raph fucks you with his calloused finger. it’s already too much, but you think you might pass out when he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks like he’s trying to reap your soul. “oh my god—”

you’re whining so loud, choked, and so, so needy, but you can’t find it within you to feel shame even as a distant part of your brain acknowledges that you won’t be able to look his brothers in the eye for a good week after this.

white eclipses your vision when you come, falling headfirst over that precipice that you’ve been teetering on for god knows how long. you fall silent when you do, mouth parted and back finally arching as raph lets your body take exactly what it needs; he lets you grind your hips down, mouth still fixed over your clit as your thighs clamp down around his skull.

he’s mumbling something dirty and full of sacrilege when you finish, his words a wicked churr that tips you into oversensitivity, and you whine weakly when he keeps moving his finger inside you, letting it drag against your slick walls with a slightly sadistic delight.

he chuckles when you slap his forearm weakly, but he acquiesces and slowly pulls back, groaning to himself when he sees just how soaked his hand is. “such a good girl,” he murmurs, looking right at you when he tastes you on his finger. he groans again at the flavour as if he hasn’t been buried in your pussy for the best part of the last hour.

“you’re terrible,” you tell him, voice wrecked, when he finally releases his finger from his mouth.

his smirk is shameless and greedy. “oh, i know.” his warm palms rest against your wet thighs, parting them again with ease. your hipbones twinge, and you gasp as he drags you closer to him, nestling between your legs like he belongs there (he does). “and we’re nowhere near done.”

his eyes are dark and leering, gluttonous and greedy, never full of you but always full of sin, and you swallow thickly as his lips twist into a ravenous snarl, nostrils flaring as you somehow grow even wetter, slick trickling down your already soaked thigh at the unadulterated lechery above you.

by the time you're done, several hours and several orgasms later, you know you won’t be able to look his brothers in the eye for at least a month.