▬▬▬ Synopsis: You never imagined that moving into a house on a private beach would bring anything beyond peace and quiet. Yet the basement stirs your curiosity, revealing itself to be far more than just an ordinary, forgotten space.
Tags: Tentacle x reader, monster smut, 1.710 words
You moved just a few weeks ago into an old house on the shoreline, inherited from a distant aunt you barely knew. The property sits isolated, surrounded by dense woods and a private beach of dark sand. The house smells of damp wood and salt, and the basement, which you still haven't properly explored, has a rusted iron door that always seems slightly ajar, even when you close it.
On your first night sleeping there, you dreamed of something alive brushing against your skin underwater.
You woke with your body hot, panties soaked, nipples hard and rubbing against the thin sheet. You thought it was just the heat of the new place, the sound of the waves. But the following nights were the same: increasingly vivid dreams, touches that felt real, something thick and smooth sliding between your thighs, squeezing your waist, brushing your breasts.
You woke gasping, fingers already between your legs, touching yourself until you came quickly, thinking it was just pent-up longing.
On the fifth night, you went down to the basement for the first time. The wooden stairs creaked, the air was humid and salty. At the far end, a black pool of water, deep, that hadn't been there when you first saw the place. The surface trembled slightly, as if breathing. You approached, curious, heart pounding hard.
That's when the first tentacle emerged.
Smooth, black-bluish, thick as your wrist, coated in a glossy mucus that gleamed under the weak light of the hanging bulb. It moved slowly, undulating in the air, then touched your calf. The sensation was warm, silky, slightly sticky. You froze. The tentacle slid slowly up your leg, coiling around your calf, squeezing firmly but without hurting, as if tasting you.
You should have screamed. You should have run. Instead, you stood still, breathing fast, feeling heat rise through your body. Another tentacle rose from the water, thinner but long, brushing the inside of your thigh. It climbed slowly, pushing your dress up, exposing the already damp white panties. The tip grazed the fabric, feeling the wetness, then slipped underneath, brushing your swollen pussy lips.
You let out a low moan. The thick tentacle squeezed your leg harder, holding you in place. The thin one pushed your panties aside, its flattened tip slowly circling your clit, then pressing firmly, vibrating slightly as if alive. You trembled, hips pushing forward involuntarily.
Two more tentacles emerged. One wrapped around your waist from behind, pulling you closer to the pool. Another slid up your torso, under the dress, coiling around your left breast. The tip split into smaller suckers that latched onto your nipple, sucking slowly, rhythmically, while the tentacle squeezed the whole breast. The pleasure hit instantly, electric, shooting straight to your core.
You moaned louder. The tentacle at your pussy pushed in, slowly, slippery, thick enough to stretch your inner walls. You felt every inch opening you up, the warm mucus easing the way, its smooth, firm texture rubbing every sensitive spot. It stopped deep inside, pulsing slowly, then began to move, thrusting in and out in slow, deep strokes, the tip curving upward to rub your G-spot with every motion.
Another tentacle appeared, thinner, and wrapped around your clit, squeezing and releasing rhythmically like a hot mouth. You came almost immediately, body convulsing, pussy clenching hard around the tentacle inside you in powerful spasms, liquid running down your thighs, mixing with the viscous mucus dripping onto the floor.
But they didn't stop.
The tentacle inside you sped up, thrusting deeper, faster, the tip opening into suckers that latched onto your inner walls, sucking lightly with every stroke. Another thick tentacle rose from the water and wrapped your other thigh, lifting your leg, spreading you wider. A third entered your pussy alongside the first, two thick tentacles stretching you to the limit, moving in alternating rhythms, one thrusting in while the other pulled out, slamming deep, filling everything.
You cried out, body shaking, coming again, pussy contracting violently around them, liquid squirting, soaking the basement floor. The suckers pulled at your inner walls, prolonging the orgasm until it almost hurt from the intensity.
A thinner tentacle climbed your neck, wrapping your throat carefully, squeezing just enough to make you dizzy with pleasure. Another coiled around your wrists, pulling your arms back, keeping you open and exposed. A third wrapped your breasts, squeezing hard, suckers relentlessly pulling at your nipples.
You came once more, whole body convulsing, pussy gripping the two tentacles inside you, liquid jetting out, mixing with the mucus dripping from the pool. They sped up, thrusting deep and fast, the tentacles in your pussy pulsing together, swelling. Then they came. A hot, thick, viscous flood filled you, pulse after pulse, jet after jet, swelling strong, overflowing.
The tentacle on your throat squeezed harder, letting you feel every throb. The ones on your breasts sucked harder, the ones on your wrists held firm. They didn't pull out right away. They stayed inside, moving slowly, prolonging the hot, sticky cum leaking from you. A thin tentacle wrapped your clit again, squeezing and releasing rhythmically, drawing out another slow, exhausting orgasm while the two thick ones kept pulsing inside, still hard, still filling you.
You dropped to your knees at the edge of the pool, gasping, body trembling, pussy now empty but still leaking their warm cum slowly down your thighs.
▬▬▬ Synopsis: Reincarnating in a fantasy world seemed like a dream: legendary creatures, a diversity of magic, enchanted kingdoms, and adventures around every corner. But the spell fades the moment you awaken in the body of a character who, by a twist of fate, is the obsession of the most feared villain on the continent. Now, surviving in Ekorya, a kingdom as beautiful as it is dangerous, has become her main mission.
Tags: Oc X You, Oc!Villain X You, Reincarnation, Porn with a storyline, Fantasy, Yandere trends, NSFW/SFW, Several chapters
Note: I didn't mention it in the first part, but the reader's appearance is inspired by Ciaccona from the game Wuthering Waves (WuWa). However, I only used the hair color and the pair of wooden horns she wears on her head as a reference.
Furthermore, after that second chapter, I developed some alternative versions of what could have happened. They're not canonical, but they serve as variations on the story.
Chapter 1
You're almost certain that if it were the real [Name] standing in front of him, Neraxis would have already taken at least one slap, or several. The feverish heat radiating from him lasted far too long, well beyond anything reasonable; the sun had disappeared hours earlier, leaving the sky in a deep hue. Still, he stayed there, stubborn, until you repeated it for the umpteenth time.
"I really need to leave now."
It was as if those words had finally found their place. He blinked slowly, just to say something. One single thing. "There's something different about you." Not an apology. Not a trace of embarrassment. Just a silly, crooked smile that seemed to light up his face more than the faint glow of the garden lanterns.
You held his gaze for a second before answering, choosing your words carefully.
"I… just opened my eyes to more important things." You were referring to his loyalty, and to the betrayal Edward was plotting in the shadows. But for Neraxis, the meaning resonated on a completely different frequency. His eyes widened for a fraction of a second, as if you had just confessed something he had been waiting years to hear.
"That's…" He swallowed hard, his voice faltering. "I… you're important to me too." His hand instinctively rose to his mouth, trying to hold back what had already escaped. His pale face gained a rosy tone that climbed from his cheekbones to his ears. He looked away to the side, staring at absolute nothing.
You felt your own heart give an awkward leap inside your chest. Neraxis had always been the type to keep his feelings locked away in tight layers, expressing them more through gestures than words. Hearing him speak so openly, without beating around the bush, without irony, without defenses, was disconcerting. It was… far too intimate.
"Thank you… for the feelings." You murmured, almost unintentionally, while your fingers nervously played with the hem of the shirt you were wearing. He stood up first, the movement fluid despite his obvious nervousness. He extended an open hand toward you, palm up, in a silent invitation. You hesitated only a second before accepting, letting him gently pull you to your feet.
His hand was surprisingly warm, firm, and lingered holding yours for a moment longer than necessary. "It's already pretty late," he said, scratching the back of his neck with his free hand, an almost childlike gesture. "Why don't you stay for dinner?" His voice came out lower, shy. "You can sleep here too. There are plenty of spare rooms… and no one will dare invade your privacy. I guarantee it."
The suggestion caught you off guard. For a moment, you imagined your options: going back to the mansion and having to deal with Constantine, the man who, in this universe, was [Name]'s father. Someone intense, difficult to handle, and completely unpredictable. Or staying here, in Neraxis's mansion, the Herald of Shadows. The title sounded so grand, so dark.
And yet, when you looked at him now, all you saw was a man with slightly hunched shoulders, flushed face, and eyes that seemed to ask permission just to exist in the same space as you. He was still waiting for an answer, without pressuring, just with his hands in the pockets of his dark pants.
"Alright." You say, this time with more firmness, as if convincing yourself. "I'll stay." His eyes sparkled for an instant, a joy so pure it almost hurt to look at. "Great! I'm glad. Come with me, I'll show you your room and the dining room!" Trying to contain a wide grin, Neraxis fails in an almost adorable way.
Without hesitation, he takes your hand and guides you out of the room. The bedroom assigned to you was on the second floor, and, curiously, it was right next to Neraxis's room. Coincidence? Hard to believe. The room was spacious, with access to a balcony overlooking the garden directly. Small potted plants were placed along the sides, giving it a sense of familiarity.
"If you need anything during the night, don't hesitate to knock on my door." There was something tender in the way Neraxis looked at you for a few seconds. Even though you thought there was no scenario in which you would knock on his bedroom door, you agreed. It didn't take long before you both went downstairs together to the dining room. And just like earlier, he made a point of sitting very close to you.
"I wasn't sure if your taste in food had changed or not, so I asked them to prepare a bit of everything." Neraxis presents the table casually. Neatly arranged are some dishes very similar to those from the place you came from, and others you had never seen in your life. "Okay…" You just murmur, uncertain about your own tastes, while placing the familiar foods on your plate.
Thinking about it now, from the moment you arrived, Neraxis has been a good host. That hospitality should be reciprocated somehow, but for now, you'd leave it for another time. Right now you were more focused on tasting the various foods of the night. Of course, with desserts as the final course.
That was the part you liked the most. The variety of options seemed endless.
"Here, try this one." A spoon with a piece of strawberry and chocolate mousse topped with a layer of ninho cream was extended toward you. Neraxis was waiting for you to open your mouth and accept it. However, you froze. All the romantic movies you watched when you had time and there were no more left to watch flashed through your mind.
This was definitely a romantic gesture. Or at least, one from someone in love. A cliché act that happens when there's some bond or intimacy with the person. Internally, one part of you wanted to run away in embarrassment, while the other couldn't bear to end the joy he was probably feeling in that moment.
So, instead of getting into an internal conflict, you decided to just give in.
As soon as he moved the spoon and your lips closed around it, an explosion of flavors melted in your mouth. The fresh tartness of the strawberry collided with the deep bitterness of the chocolate, melting instantly. The creamy texture of the top layer clung lightly to your tongue, and the contrast left you breathless for a second.
"Uh… so delicious…!" It slipped out low, almost involuntarily. "They're complete opposites… and yet they fit together perfectly." Your eyes sparkled, but Neraxis didn't say anything right away. He just watched as the corner of his mouth curved into a small smile. "They're opposites. That's why they complete each other." He suddenly leaned forward, closing the distance between you in the blink of an eye.
"It's like they say… opposites always attract."
His hand slowly rose to your chin. Firm, warm fingers held your face, preventing you from looking away. His thumb lightly brushed along your jawline, almost a caress, almost possessive. Meanwhile, his other free hand approached your mouth. His index finger traced the lower edge of your lips, collecting the bit of cream that had escaped. The touch was light.
He didn't look away for even a millisecond. You felt your heart race, skipping beats on purpose. Your breathing came in short gasps when he brought his finger to his own mouth, unhurriedly, and slowly licked the cream, his tongue sliding along the tip of his finger in a deliberate motion. The gesture was so brazen that heat instantly rose up your neck, setting your cheeks on fire.
To top it off, in the end, Neraxis smiled innocently and went back to eating what was on his plate.
Now it was no longer just an impression or something in your head—he really was more relaxed and seeking more physical contact. Beyond the insinuations and the direct approach he had chosen. "Thank you." You tried to smile normally, as if you hadn't understood what he implied. Fortunately, it all passed very quickly. And for your first night in this world, you really wanted to rest in a soft bed.
Maybe when you opened your eyes the next day, it would all turn out to be nothing more than a long, weird dream. When you lay down to sleep on the mattress, you were wearing light clothes—a blue pajama set with a short-sleeved top and loose shorts. Little by little, your consciousness faded into a deep, silent, empty layer until you fell asleep.
To your misfortune, you woke up suddenly. An uncomfortable sensation in your lower abdomen made you wake up. You really needed to use the bathroom. However, to do that, you would have to get up and go look for one on the floor you were on. As far as you could remember, the mansion—or rather, the territory where the Vandrel house was located—wasn't as hostile as it appeared.
Even though Neraxis guaranteed your safety, the shadowy inhabitants had a certain reluctance toward strangers. Especially those connected to the heir prince. So you didn't know what could happen. It was a fact that magic, and especially nature, were on your side. But who could guarantee you would be able to use them to your advantage?
For the first few minutes you managed to ignore the sensation. Until the point where breathing or moving started to hurt.
That's how you ended up out of bed, wandering the mansion's corridors empty-handed and in pajamas. Finding a bathroom took longer than you thought it would. But in the end, you trusted your memory that you had seen one earlier. Retracing the path you thought you had taken, sleep had long since vanished.
Opening the door, what you thought was the room you were in turned out to be the same room you had been in earlier. Following only your own instinct, your feet led you to the balcony window. The fresh breeze and the darkened garden were the first to greet you. Breathing in the pure air and the plants, you wondered why you had ended up there. But you didn't reach any concrete conclusion.
Suddenly, lightly, the door to the room opened. Your gaze wandered there, curious. Only to find the figure of the man half-asleep on his feet. Wearing only sweatpants and the same pajama print on the shirt you were wearing, Neraxis entered the room. "So this is where you were." He stifled a yawn and stretched, fully waking up.
His hair, previously perfectly arranged, had become a messy tangle of wavy curls going in every direction.
How did he know you weren't in bed? And how did he find you?
"I ended up losing sleep. Sorry, did I make noise and wake you?" You asked, giving a small smile. He quickly shook his head. "Don't worry about that. Well, since you're awake, I'll keep you company." Neraxis approached; only then did you notice he was carrying a blanket in his arms.
Before you could fully process his words, he was already walking toward you. Only then did you notice the dark gray blanket he was holding. As he passed you, he reached the balcony wall and, without ceremony, slid down to the floor, his back against the cold concrete. He opened the blanket with a wide motion, letting it fall over his shoulders like a cape.
The heavy fabric settled over his broad shoulders, and one end hung invitingly over his lap.
"Come here." He lifted his gaze to you. "I don't want you catching a cold out here." The gesture caught you off guard again. You hesitated for half a second. Then you gave in. You walked the few steps that separated you and crouched beside him. He opened the blanket wider, wrapping you together with him in a warm cocoon.
Your shoulders touched, the heat of his body passed through the thin shirt and mingled with yours. Neraxis's scent enveloped you completely, now mixed with the cool night air. "Better this way?" he asked softly, almost as if afraid of breaking the moment. "Yes, much better. Thank you." You smiled against the fabric and stayed silent, savoring the moment.
Silence enveloped you both. You lifted your eyes to the sky; a carpet of shy, half-hidden stars hung above your heads. So lost in the vastness above, you didn't even notice the gentle weight of his gaze on you. When you finally looked down and found him watching, it was already too late to pretend. Neraxis just smiled.
He wasn't looking exactly at your face. His gaze had lingered on the horns sprouting from your head: curved, elegant, in a dark tone that gleamed faintly under the moonlight, adorned with small green flowers that seemed to have grown there naturally, delicate petals trembling in the breeze.
"They're fake."
You explained, your voice coming out lower than intended, almost a conspiratorial whisper. "Made with magic to look like my father's and my brothers'. I didn't want to be left out of the family tradition." You smiled sideways, a sly smile hiding a silly pride. It was a fact: before [Name] joined Edward's group, her head was free, only the pointed ears—dragon heritage from her father's side—standing out.
The horns came later, a magical whim she learned to conjure just to feel part of the clan.
Neraxis tilted his head, genuinely curious.
"I see… They don't weigh? They don't bother you?" You blinked, surprised at yourself. Suddenly you realized they didn't. They were as light as feathers, as if they were truly part of you. "They weigh nothing!" you replied, laughing softly. "Sometimes I forget they're even there." You tilted your head to the side, the horns following the movement gracefully, the little flowers swaying.
"Want to touch them?"
The offer slipped out before you could weigh your words. But there was no malice, just shared curiosity, an invitation to cross one more layer of that night. Neraxis hesitated for a second, not out of fear, but as if wanting to make sure it was allowed. Then he slowly raised his hand, long fingers hovering in the air before approaching.
When he finally touched, it was with delicacy. The tips of his fingers brushed the base of one horn, sliding slowly along the smooth, warm curve. He traced the outline carefully, then grazed one of the little flowers; the petal moved slightly, as if responding to the touch, releasing a subtle scent of fresh herbs and dew.
"Incredible…" he murmured, eyes shining with fascination.
"They're just a pretty illusion," you said, but your voice came out soft, almost shy. Instead of pulling his hand away completely, Neraxis let his fingers descend slowly, tracing a subtle path from the base of the horn to the curve of your ear. The tips brushed the skin there, soft, warm, far too sensitive. It was a light touch, almost accidental, but it sent a silent electric current from the nape of your neck down your entire spine.
You felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, heat rushing quickly to your cheeks, and your pointed ears betraying you, visibly growing warmer under his touch. "Illusion or not… it suits you." He repeated, voice low. The words hung in the cool balcony air. He was too close. The blanket kept you pressed together, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh, his warmth seeping through the thin fabric of the shared shirt.
You could feel the slow, steady rhythm of his breathing against your hair, his scent blending with the subtle perfume of the little flowers. You tried to hide the blush by turning your face slightly, but the movement only made your ear brush more against his fingers. A delicious mistake. The touch lingered there a second longer than necessary.
As if he were testing the limit, or perhaps just savoring the texture of your skin. Then his gaze dropped. It stopped on your lips and lingered there. You felt the air thicken between you. The silence of the night seemed to grow even quieter, as if the whole world had held its breath along with you. His lips parted slightly.
They wanted to say something, but the words seemed to have gotten lost along the way. Instead, he just tilted his head a little closer, not enough to touch, but enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath brushing your mouth. "Beautiful musician…" Neraxis whispered, his voice deep and husky, as if the words had been dragged from the depths of his chest.
"Yes?" you answered in a thread of voice, air caught in your throat.
The silence that followed was electric, charged. He slowly licked his lips, a slow gesture that made your eyes follow the movement without meaning to. But Neraxis chose another path. With a slow, almost reluctant blink, he tilted his head and buried his face in the curve of your neck.
The loose edge of the wide shirt slipped a little further, exposing the sensitive skin just below your ear. His nose brushed there first, warm, deliberate, inhaling deeply your scent, as if wanting to commit it to memory. His hot breath spread across your skin, raising goosebumps on every inch. Then came the kiss. Slow. Wet.
His lips molded perfectly to that delicate curve, pressing with a pressure that was both gentle and hungry. His tongue traced a minimal path, hot and damp, lightly licking the skin before sucking delicately, not enough to mark, but enough for a wave of heat to explode in your lower belly.
Your whole body reacted. A violent tremor rose from your thighs to the nape of your neck, your hands clutching the blanket as if it were your only anchor. A low, involuntary sound escaped you, half moan, half sigh, and you felt his teeth graze your skin lightly, a phantom bite that promised more. His thumb, still on your ear, slowly descended along the side of your neck.
Tracing the line of your racing pulse, feeling every erratic beat. His body heat now pressed fully against yours, thighs pressed together, chest to chest, the evident bulge of his arousal subtly brushing against your leg under the blanket. You arched your neck without realizing it, silently offering more.
He responded with another kiss, deeper, longer, his mouth open now, sucking the skin with torturous slowness while his free hand slid up your back, fingers slipping under the shirt to caress the bare skin of your lower back. The touch was hot, possessive, nails lightly scratching, sending sparks up your entire spine.
Your whole body trembled, heat pooling low and insistent between your legs. You instinctively squeezed your thighs together, seeking relief, and that only made the friction against him more obvious to both of you. Then, suddenly, he stopped. His lips pulled away from your skin with a soft, almost inaudible pop. He slowly lifted his face, just enough for you to see his eyes.
Pupils dilated, heavy breathing, wet and reddened lips.
"It was nothing…" he murmured, voice low, hoarse, trying to sound casual but betraying a subtle tremor.
He pulled back a few centimeters, body still pressed to yours under the blanket, but the heat was now only a burning memory on your skin. Silence returned, heavy, full of everything that hadn't been said.
▬▬▬ Synopsis: Mydeimos had never really stopped to reflect on it. To him, such thoughts seemed distant, almost irrelevant in the face of his daily routine. However, when he encountered you, something changed. It was as if a forgotten spark had been ignited within him, awakening feelings and questions he had never considered. Since then, each encounter, each glance, seemed to reinforce this new unease.
Tags: Mydeimos X Reader, 2986 words, tara in reproduction, chubby reader, NSFW, no spoilers
Carnal desires had always been irrelevant to the crown prince of Kremnos. Mydeimos, the Immortal, carried centuries of wars and prophecies on his back, far too much time to allow himself fragile luxuries like pleasure or the notion of perpetuating a bloodline. The throne would be his again. The prophecy would be fulfilled. Nothing else mattered.
That is, until that moment.
Descending the stone stairs that bordered the immense curtain of water, he saw you. Two small children ran toward you crying. You crouched in a movement as natural as breathing, opening your arms to receive them. They threw themselves against your chest, clinging to your skirts, and you enveloped them with a tenderness that seemed to light up the damp air around you.
That was when his gaze slipped.
Crouched like that, the thin fabric of your dress molded to your full thighs, revealing curves that the slender women of Okhema would never display.
Plump, soft legs, rounded in a way that begged to be gripped. Your waist narrowed just above, inviting the imagination to slide hands along it, pulling you down until the wet heat between your legs fitted exactly against the hardness already beginning to throb beneath the leather of his pants.
Mydei felt the blood rush downward in a violent wave.
His cock gave a painful pulse, thickening against the seam, as though his own body were demanding what his mind still tried to deny. He imagined, with obscene clarity, what it would be like to hold those thighs open, fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he lifted and lowered you slowly, feeling you part, hot and slick, swallowing every inch of him to the hilt.
He tore his eyes away. But it was too late. The image was already burned in. He tried to ignore it. Told himself it was fleeting, a momentary weakness of a body rarely used for anything beyond killing and commanding. But fate seemed to mock him.
Every time you crossed his path, a distracted smile, the gentle sway of your hips as you walked, the way you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, the memory returned sharper, dirtier. He began noticing details he shouldn’t: the outline of your breasts beneath the neckline when you leaned forward, the subtle arch of your back when you laughed, the generous curve of your ass that the dress barely concealed.
And then Cipher entered the game. The cat-thief noticed immediately. She wasn’t blind. She saw Mydeimos’s fixed stare on you while you talked in the courtyard, saw his jaw lock. The feline smile that spread across her face was almost predatory. She was already scheming. Days later, by some mechanism only Cipher knew, the door closed with a definitive click.
Inside, you were sitting on his lap.
The room was small, the air hot, thick with the mineral scent of the running water outside and the light perfume rising from your skin. Your thighs rested open over his, the dress riding up dangerously, revealing the soft, warm inner flesh that nearly brushed the aching erection he could no longer hide.
At first you tried to keep distance, hands braced on your own thighs, spine straight, eyes fixed on the floor as though you could disappear if you looked at him. But it was impossible. Every breath made your breasts rise and fall, grazing his chest lightly. Every small shift made you slide a millimeter against the pulsing hardness beneath you, drawing a low hiss from him that he tried to stifle.
Mydeimos was rigid, not just between his legs. The muscles of his back, arms, jaw, everything locked tight. He could feel the heat radiating from between your thighs, could feel the already damp fabric of your underwear brushing against the tight leather of his pants, and it was torture.
“Well…” His voice came out hoarse, almost choked. He cleared his throat. “You can leave whenever you want.”
You took a long time to answer. When you did, it was in a whisper that vibrated straight against his nape.
“I know.”
Silence.
“…but what if I don’t want to leave right now?”
Mydei’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second. He turned his face slowly, breath hot.
“Be careful what you’re asking for.” He murmured, voice low and dangerous, loaded with a promise he could no longer pretend didn’t exist. Your breathing faltered. You felt his cock give another hard pulse beneath the fabric, as though answering your words. You felt his large hands, motionless until then, finally move, slow, deliberate, until they settled on your bare thighs.
Thumbs tracing slow circles on the sensitive inner skin.
You hesitated only the length of one trembling breath. “I don’t want to leave.” The words barely left your lips before they were swallowed by his movement. Mydeimos’s large hands slid with deliberate slowness along your thighs, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh until you felt every inch of the pressure. He didn’t squeeze hard, but the touch was firm enough.
Your body reacted before your mind. A shiver raced up your spine, nipples hardening against the thin fabric of the dress, brushing his broad chest with every quickened breath. You felt the heat between your legs intensify, wetness gathering, the fabric of your panties already clinging to sensitive skin. He tilted his face, nose grazing the curve of your neck.
He inhaled deeply. The scent of your skin mixed with light floral perfume and the damp heat of arousal hit him like a punch.
“You’re trembling…” He murmured against your ear, voice rough, almost a purr. You didn’t answer with words. Instead your hips moved, a small, instinctive, almost involuntary motion, sliding forward until the wet heat between your thighs rubbed against his thigh. Mydei released a low growl, the first sound of surrender to escape him in centuries.
His hands rose, gripping your waist hard now, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips, pulling you down more firmly, forcing the perfect fit. The dress rode higher, bunching at your waist, leaving your full thighs and the generous curve of your ass exposed for him to grip with intent.
“Fuck…” It slipped from him, almost reverent. “You’re so soft here…” One hand slid down, slipping behind, between your legs, fingers lightly brushing the soaked panties. He felt the fabric clinging, the slick heat, and pressed two fingers against the swollen outline of your clit, tracing slow, torturous circles.
You arched your back involuntarily, a low moan escaping parted lips. Your arms, rigid at your sides until then, finally moved: one hand clutched his broad shoulder, the other slid to his nape, fingers threading into his hair and tugging lightly, as though you needed something to anchor yourself.
He took advantage of the motion to claim your mouth.
His hot lips crashed against yours, tongue invading without permission, exploring, tasting, while the hand between your legs increased pressure, now rubbing your clit in faster, firmer circles. You writhed in his lap, hips rolling on their own, chasing more friction, more pressure.
Mydeimos broke the kiss only to bite your earlobe, teeth grazing lightly before descending your neck, sucking the sensitive skin until he left a red mark.
He pushed the fabric of your panties aside with his fingers, feeling the hot wetness coat them. This time two slid inside you slowly, stretching tight walls, while his thumb continued tormenting your swollen clit. You moaned loudly this time, the sound echoing in the small room.
Mydei felt your walls clench around his fingers the exact instant the moan tore from your lips, loud, raw, uncontrolled. That sound seemed to ignite something primal inside him. He curled his fingers upward with cruel precision, pressing exactly that inner spot that made your thighs shake violently and your breathing turn to short sobs.
He increased the rhythm: two fingers thrusting in and out with firm, wet strokes, the obscene sound filling the room alongside your moans. The thumb never stopped circling your clit, sometimes slow, tracing torturous spirals, sometimes pressing hard, rubbing in quick motions that made your hips lift off his lap in involuntary spasms.
You grabbed his arm with both hands, nails digging into hard skin as pleasure climbed in ever-higher waves. Your hips rolled against his hand on their own, seeking more depth. “Mydei… please…” you whimpered, voice broken. He lifted his face to meet your eyes. Pupils blown, jaw locked in restraint.
“Don’t stop… don’t stop… I want to come…”
The smile that spread across his face was dangerous, almost feral.
He resumed with force: three fingers now, stretching you further, thumb rubbing your clit in fast, merciless circles. His other hand rose to your breast, squeezing roughly, thumb brushing the hardened nipple before pinching, hard enough to send a direct jolt to your core.
You arched your back, entire body trembling. The orgasm hit like an explosion, violent, overwhelming. Your inner walls clamped in powerful spasms around his fingers, squeezing, pulsing, while a hot rush of pleasure spilled over his palm, soaking his wrist. You cried his name, legs clamping around his hand as though to trap it there forever.
Mydeimos didn’t remove his fingers immediately. He kept moving them slowly, prolonging every wave of pleasure, feeling each contraction until you collapsed against him, gasping, trembling, eyes glassy and cheeks flushed.
Only then did he withdraw his fingers with deliberate slowness, bringing them to his mouth. He sucked them slowly, licking every drop of your arousal while holding your gaze. “Sweet…” he murmured, tone almost reverent. “You have a taste I could spend the rest of eternity savoring.” He shifted then, positioning himself between your spread legs.
You could see the obvious bulge in his pants, fabric stretched to the limit, a dark wet spot already forming where pre-cum leaked. He yanked his belt open, the leather snapping. He shoved his pants down just enough to free his cock, thick, heavy, the broad head glistening, veins pulsing visibly along the length. He gripped the base and gave two slow strokes to himself, spreading the fluid over the glans until it gleamed.
He leaned over you, one hand braced beside your head, the other guiding the thick head to your still-sensitive, slick entrance. He rubbed there slowly, sliding up and down, spreading the mixture of you both.
“Breathe deep.” He warned, eyes locked on yours. Then he pushed. Slow. Centimeter by centimeter. You felt the pressure, the delicious, almost painful stretch as he buried himself. Your inner walls, still pulsing from your orgasm, molded around his girth, clenching, sucking. When he bottomed out, the head pressing against your cervix, you both released a simultaneous low moan.
He paused there, fully inside, hips flush to yours, letting you feel every thick pulse.
Mydei began to move, long, slow withdrawals almost to the tip, then deep thrusts that made your breasts bounce and pulled moans from you with every hilt-deep plunge. The rhythm increased gradually: faster, harder, hips slapping against yours with controlled force, the wet, rhythmic sound filling the room.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, nails raking down his broad back as he fucked you with raw intensity. One of his hands slid to where you were joined, thumb returning to rub your swollen clit in quick circles while he kept delivering deep thrusts.
You were close. So close.
Pleasure spiraled tight in your belly, making your thighs shake, your inner muscles clench rhythmically around him.
And then it came, stronger than before.
You screamed, body convulsing, inner walls pulsing violently around his thick cock, milking him as you came hard, pleasure exploding in waves that sent tears slipping from the corners of your eyes.
“Fuck… I’m gonna come…” he warned, burying himself deep one last time.
He came with a rough, prolonged groan, cock pulsing violently inside you, thick hot jets filling every space, slowly overflowing as he kept moving in short, deep thrusts, prolonging his own orgasm.
Mydeimos stayed inside you for long minutes after the climax, in no hurry to pull out. Both of you breathed heavily, bodies pressed together, slick with sweat, the room’s air thick with the raw scent of sex, sweat, and cum. He still pulsed slowly inside, final spasms that made a little more warm seed leak and drip slowly between your spread thighs.
He lifted his torso just enough to look down at where you remained joined. His eyes fixed on the sight: his thick cock, half-softened but still buried to the root, your swollen red lips hugging the base, a thick white thread slowly dripping down sensitive skin.
Mydeimos began moving again, slow, lazy, short deep thrusts that made the cum already inside shift, spread, leak a little more with every slide. The sound was wet, obscene. “Feel that?” he asked, leaning to speak against your ear, breath hot. “Feel how I’m filling you again? Even after coming so much… there’s still more. My body wants to give you everything.”
He pushed once more, slow, deliberate, as though wanting to force every drop as deep as possible. He growled low, cock giving a strong pulse inside you, hardening again despite the recent orgasm.
“You look so beautiful like this…” He sped up just a little, short but firm thrusts, staying as deep as possible, as though wanting to seal something right there. You moaned against him, legs trembling around his waist, body still sensitive responding to the pressure. Mydeimos growled in satisfaction, burying his face in your neck, biting lightly as he thrust deep once more.
He came again, hot, weak but still plentiful jets, adding to what was already there, slowly overflowing at the sides while he stayed pressed flush, sealing it all inside. Mydei remained buried to the hilt, cock semi-hard pulsing slowly inside you as the last spasms of his orgasm faded.
The hot cum he’d poured continued to leak slowly from the sides, dripping down your swollen entrance and onto the sheet in thick white strands. He made no move to pull out.
You felt his heat, his thickness still occupying every inch inside you, sensitive walls fluttering lightly around him with each deep breath. His body was hot, sweaty, pressed to yours, broad chest rising and falling against your breasts. And then you felt it, subtle at first, but undeniable.
He was hardening again.
The cock that had barely softened began to swell slowly, pulsing harder, lengthening centimeter by centimeter while still fully buried. You felt the pressure build: the thick head pressing deeper against your cervix, the raised veins rubbing sensitive, slick walls. A low moan escaped your lips before you could stop it.
Mydeimos noticed. Of course he did.
He released a satisfied rumble against your neck, teeth grazing marked skin.
“Feel that?” he murmured, voice rough and loaded with renewed hunger.
“I’m already hard again… just from being here inside, feeling you tight and full of my cum. My body doesn’t want to leave. It wants to keep you like this… full, marked, ready for more.” He rolled his hips lightly, not a full thrust, just a slow, lazy grind that made his hardening cock slide a little in and out.
You arched instinctively, legs trembling around his waist, heels digging into his muscled back as you tried to pull him deeper. “Mydei…” you whimpered, voice weak, broken. He lifted his face to meet your eyes. His were dark, almost wild, jaw locked in restraint.
“I can’t stop.” He confessed, almost as though it hurt to admit. “You’re too hot… too wet… and now you’re completely full of me. I feel my cum moving inside every time I move… and it drives me insane.” He began moving for real, slow, deep, controlled thrusts.
Each withdrawal dragged his cock along sensitive walls, each plunge sank to the hilt, hitting deep. The rhythm was torturous: slow enough to feel every vein, every pulse, but firm enough to make pleasure climb again, slowly, like a flame reigniting.
He leaned down to capture your mouth in a fierce kiss, tongue invading while his hips slapped harder now, the wet sound echoing in the small room.
His thrusts turned erratic, deep and rough. He came again. Hot, thick jets, adding to what was already there, slowly overflowing at the sides as he groaned roughly against your skin, hips shuddering with each spurt.
You came with him, body convulsing, inner walls pulsing violently around him, clenching, sucking, as though trying to milk every last drop.
He didn’t pull out.
He stayed buried to the hilt, both of you panting, pressed together, cum slowly dripping down your thighs, pooling on the sheet.
▬▬▬ Synopsis: Reincarnating in a fantasy world seemed like a dream: legendary creatures, a diversity of magic, enchanted kingdoms, and adventures around every corner. But the spell fades the moment you awaken in the body of a character who, by a twist of fate, is the obsession of the most feared villain on the continent. Now, surviving in Ekorya, a kingdom as beautiful as it is dangerous, has become her main mission.
Tags: Oc X You, Oc!Villain X You, Reincarnation, Porn with a storyline, Fantasy, Yandere trends, NSFW/SFW, Several chapters
Chapter 2
There was no time to react. By the time you realized it, a barrier of vines had already formed to protect you. The surroundings were completely different from before. The modern, technological houses had been replaced by simpler ones, shops were scattered on every corner. A fountain gushed forth its clean, almost crystal-clear water.
The landscape felt strange, yet it carried a touch of familiarity. Gradually, the protective barrier dissolved, revealing the other side. A man. Tall. With hair in dark shades of purple. Dressed in black clothes and an outfit that looked like it had stepped straight out of a fantasy story. Somehow, the aura he carried was shadowy.
When your eyes met, a flood of emotions surged through your chest. Fear, confusion, and recognition. For a moment, you swore you had gone mad. That man, or rather, that character, was Neraxis Vandrel. The villain and antagonist of a recently famous otome game. Coincidence or not, it was the exact same game your best friend had been playing.
And like any otome game, it had a system for conquering target characters, premium choices, and unique endings for each route. So right now, the focus shouldn’t be admiring him. It should be asking yourself what the hell was going on here. After all, unlike you, Neraxis had his eyes slightly widened; he looked surprised by something.
But while you were so absorbed, you didn’t even notice the sound of footsteps approaching. You only realized it when a hand rested on your shoulder.
“Are you okay?” A male voice snapped you out of it. The moment you turned your head, your heart nearly jumped out of your mouth. The person speaking to you was none other than one of the game’s actual protagonists: Edward Leopold Sunveil. The Hero and Crown Prince of the Kingdom of Ekorya. His hand transmitted warmth, so it was impossible for this to be a dream.
Right…?
“[Name]?” He called again, this time sounding more concerned. When your name echoed in your ears, you wanted to cry internally. Curiously, there was a character in the game with the exact same name as yours. That’s why your best friend always insisted on trying to make the protagonist get along with that character.
However, that wasn’t exactly why you were on the verge of panic.
There were two extremely important reasons for it.
First: the [Name] of this world was completely in love with Edward, which now made you a major red flag on the Prince’s route.
Second: this character was destined to die, betrayed by her own companions and by the very person she had sworn her life to.
“Yes…” You tried to sound firm. Luckily, he just nodded, but he didn’t remove his hand from your shoulder. Suddenly, a shiver ran from your head to your toes, as if some malicious gaze had been directed at you. You quickly turned your attention forward again, only to meet the furious, menacing glare of Neraxis.
It wasn’t exactly directed at you, but at Edward. Or more specifically, at the hand on your shoulder.
“Your entrance caused damage to the square. Make sure to pay for the repairs.” Those were Edward’s final words before he turned and walked away. He completely ignored Neraxis’s dark stare. That line also felt familiar, and now that you were calmly analyzing it, you realized this was the opening scene of the game, the one used to introduce the characters. If you weren’t mistaken, this scene had been caused by the protagonist, Arya Brienne.
Upon returning to the kingdom after years of training, the first person she encounters is precisely the one who holds the title of villain. Confirming your reasoning, you glance over your shoulder and spot the two who, in the future, could become a couple, depending on the chosen route.
Distracted once again, Neraxis took the opportunity to stealthily approach and wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you close. Your hands collided against his chest as your bodies crashed together. “I missed you… I’m so glad you’re back, beautiful musician,” he said, his mouth stopping just centimeters from yours.
Huh?
You were way too close. His scent began to cling to your body. Neraxis looked at you with a devoted, passionate gaze. Only then did a very important memory reignite in your brain like magic. As part of the key events that would happen to the character whose body you were now in, being the villain’s beloved was one of them.
Beloved. Of. The. Villain.
Neraxis was in love, if not completely obsessed, with the [Name] of this world.
How could you have forgotten such an important piece of information?!
Swallowing any feelings that might have been stirring inside you, you forced a sweet smile. “Yes, I’m happy to be back too!” With that, your hands moved away from his chest. Lowering one, the other went to the top of his head, where you gently stroked his hair. That action alone was enough to make him freeze in place.
And it also served as your cue to pull away from him in the blink of an eye. The [Name] of this world was completely gentle and treated everyone warmly, especially those Edward trusted and considered close. Except for two people: Arya, the protagonist, and Neraxis, the villain. Precisely because one was a love interest and the other treated the prince with hostility.
However, despite that, toward the end of the story, Neraxis would be the only one who remained by [Name]’s side. And as a Watcher of Very, interfering in the affairs of the human world was forbidden, even if, in a way, it would favor Edward. Running away, you followed the Prince and Arya, just as the real [Name] would have done.
…
Long ago, when the first trace of mana appeared among humans, a baby was born. Amid the moment of joy, they noticed an unusual characteristic in the newborn: his hair. The blond strands shone like the sun, so bright and vivid in their purest form. There, the first child bearer of light magic was recorded.
Thus, with the knowledge that magic existed, human wisdom was able to evolve the stages of mana, eventually reaching the level of forming contracts and opening portals to other worlds. One of the beings that sought to honor peace was the dragons. For each heir of a light-bearer, the dragons, now known as the “Watchers of Very,” were to protect them and maintain balance.
That was the summary the game presented at the beginning of the story. And now, you were part of it.
Bringing your hands to your cheeks, you began massaging them. The short time you had spent in this new world had been enough to realize just how big the jumps your “other self” made. Your feet were aching; it was uncomfortable to walk. And the worst part? You had been following Edward the entire time without a single break to sit down.
Ironic or not, at that very moment he was having coffee with Arya in the middle of the garden while you just watched. They were chatting casually as if they were old friends, completely ignoring your existence. This was the first event of his route, and soon they would reach the premium choice. As a good fan of the game, you knew your presence there was only to bother them.
Especially if you were the real [Name]. The moment she opened her mouth, she would offend Arya. So you chose to stay silent to avoid interrupting and somehow changing your relationship with her. However, the way they were acting as if you weren’t even there was… jerkish. Why hadn’t you just left earlier? Holding back a sigh, you decided to listen to your own thoughts.
“Excuse me…” you murmured, low enough that it was barely audible. Not that it mattered anyway. After giving a brief bow, you turned and walked away. To where? Explore! Even though the settings were familiar, the paths to reach them were not. Your departure wasn’t noticed by Arya, but it was noticed by Edward. His gaze followed you until you completely disappeared from sight.
Ever since you returned to Ekorya, he had noticed you were behaving strangely. You no longer made a scene when he gave attention to Arya, nor did you show any signs of your usual jealousy attacks even when he invited her for coffee. That intrigued him. So it was only fair that he go and find out what was going on.
Saying he needed to check on something, Edward left the table and followed after you.
When he found you, the sight surprised him. You were walking barefoot across the ground, carrying your shoes in your hand. “[Name]?” He hesitated, but you heard him from ahead. Turning to see who it was, you looked just as confused as he did. Edward wasn’t supposed to be here. “Yes? Did something happen?” A smile spread across your face as you waited for his answer.
“I should be the one asking that. You just left.”
Ah.
Smile, [Name]. Smile.
“If that’s all, there’s no need to worry! I just realized you two needed some time alone. I couldn’t be a third wheel.” Your answer seemed to surprise him, but he quickly regained his impeccable posture. “Third wheel? That doesn’t make sense. You don’t care about that.” Edward gave a small smile. “What happened? Have I stopped being your love?”
You blinked several times before thinking of a reply.
“Love?” You repeated the word shakily; just mentioning it sent shivers down your spine. “Sorry, but did I ever give the impression we had that kind of relationship? You’re still my adorable human. But that’s all.” You explained with a gentle expression, despite the direct words. “Really? I never thought those words would actually come out of your mouth… Thank you so much!”
“When I was with Arya, I thought you’d be upset. After all, you yourself said you loved me.” He emphasized that last part, his expression serene, wearing a false mask just to throw the facts in your face. Indeed, “you” had said you loved him. So with every sentence he spoke, it felt like an arrow was piercing straight through your heart.
“Mm-hmm. But that’s in the past now. Do whatever your heart tells you!” You encouraged, giving him a thumbs-up in agreement. As long as he left you alone soon. “Alright, I will. Thank you for the words! And make sure you get back safely.” With that, the conversation ended. An immediate wave of relief washed over your shoulders the moment Edward disappeared from view.
Now, the original plan remained the same: explore the surroundings and settings of the game. However, a summer fairy seemed to have other plans for you. Flying gracefully to the window, her delicate wings emitted a golden light. When the window opened, the first thing the little fairy did was fly straight into your hands.
“Miss [Name], please help us!”
She pleaded, almost begging, while clutching her own clothes. As someone practically a representative of nature, it was normal for forest creatures to come to you when they had a problem. So you couldn’t ignore the tiny being. You immediately offered to help, even if it meant encountering that man.
As you climbed the steps to the teleportation area, a bright light suddenly burst from the magic circle, enveloping your body until you had to close your eyes. When you opened them again, the scenery had changed, and a dark-toned door stood before you. The morbid colors of the decoration brought a certain discomfort, perhaps even melancholy.
“Welcome!” The door suddenly swung open.
The interior of the mansion was quickly revealed: a red carpet covered the corridors, furniture was scattered alongside unlit candles and a few portraits on the walls. Silas, a loyal follower of the mansion’s owner, bowed in respect and greeting. “Hello, Silas. How are you?” A smile accompanied the question as you passed through the door.
“Marvelously well! Even more so after a visit from the young miss.” He returned a playfully wooden smile. “Well, I mean… My Lord is far more excited about this than I am.” He tried to correct himself, running a hand through his white hair. Of course that man would be. You had to force a smile. You didn’t hate him, but you also didn’t understand where this love came from.
Even after reading the story, the reason had never really been clear. Still, maybe that was for the best. After all, you would be grateful to him later for staying by the side of the Delarive family. Or more precisely, by your side.
Silas led you to a room, and the moment the door opened, you saw him seated in a chair, leaning against the edge of the table. The room was spacious, with tall windows and a balcony. The furniture was arranged neatly, just like the paintings and potted plants. “I’ll get straight to the point. Please return the fairies you kidnapped.”
You barely gave room for any other conversation. Even though you were smiling, you were just trying not to lose the habit. “Kidnapped? Don’t misunderstand, they came here of their own free will.” He gave you a lazy look, then clapped his hands twice. Soon after, the door opened again, drawing your attention.
Leoric, his second loyal follower, entered the room holding a large cushion. Several fairies were sitting on it, eating what appeared to be sweets. When they saw you, they cheered. “Miss [Name]! The sweets from these lands are wonderful!” one fairy exclaimed, rising and flying gracefully toward you.
She placed a piece of what she was eating into your mouth. At the first touch, the sweet melted on your tongue. It wasn’t cloying, bitter, or spicy. Quite the opposite, it was refreshingly light. You had to hold back from making any delighted sounds. “It’s… really good.” Your voice came out muffled because your hand was covering your mouth.
Neraxis watched you from the back of the room, silent, savoring your reactions. “E-even so, we need to go back!” You hurried to say, remembering the real reason you had come. The fairies let out a disappointed chorus but quickly recovered. “Alright, we were starting to miss home anyway.” With that, they flew away from the cushion.
Just as you were about to turn and leave with them, Neraxis intervened. “What’s the rush? Don’t you want to know what they were doing before coming here?” He smiled, clearly pleased that he had captured your attention. You held back a sigh and simply nodded. “Go back on your own. I’ll follow right after,” you told the fairies and walked toward the table.
“And no detours!” you added. The fairies let out a conspiratorial giggle before agreeing. “Silas, escort them to the teleportation stone. Leoric, you may leave.” Once the command was given, his servants bowed and departed, leaving only you and Neraxis in the room. The idea was tempting, and far too dangerous.
“So?” You crossed your arms, waiting for an answer. “Ah, yes. Of course. But first…” He didn’t finish the sentence. Instead, he lifted the chair he had been sitting in and dragged it closer to your side. Your knees touched under the table. Neraxis leaned forward, just enough for you to see the top of his head.
He didn’t say anything else. He just stayed like that.
What was he doing?
“Hm… what is this supposed to be?” you asked, feeling a bit uncomfortable with him being so close again. “Do that. The thing you did when we met…” You searched your memory and quickly found the answer. A head pat. He wanted you to stroke his head again. Ah. Everything became clear in an instant.
With your hand still trembling slightly, you hesitated for a moment before slowly letting your fingers descend to the top of his head.
The tips of your fingers merely brushed against him, sliding lightly through the dark strands, tracing the curve of his scalp without messing up his hair. Neraxis let out a low sound, almost a hoarse, contented purr. It was so subtle you almost didn’t notice. You felt his body relax even more, leaning toward you.
At first he surrendered slowly. Then, suddenly, all his weight and warmth collapsed onto you.
The impact was unexpected. The two of you tumbled to the floor together with a muffled thud. The carpet softened the fall, but not the shock that surged through your chest. By the time reality settled, you were already underneath him, your back against the soft fabric, the air momentarily caught in your throat.
Neraxis didn’t waste any time. He nestled himself between your legs, fitting his hips against yours in a way that made your heart race. His large hands slid to your waist and gripped you firmly, yet at the same time with a desperate neediness, as if he were terrified you might slip away. His face buried itself in your chest, his nose brushing against the sensitive skin just above your neckline, inhaling your scent deeply.
He let out a soft, whiny moan against your skin. His fingers tightened on your waist, pulling your body even closer to his. You felt his hot, rapid breathing against your collarbone, his slightly parted lips grazing your skin with every exhale, leaving a trail of shivers in their wake.
“Please… don’t stop…” he murmured, his voice hoarse and trembling, muffled against you. He lifted his face just enough to look at you. “Let me stay like this for a few more minutes…”
▬▬▬ Synopsis: You live in your own world, exploring and collecting ores. Your goal is to start a farm, but as soon as the soil is tilled, rain begins to fall. You run back home, but you're not the only one seeking shelter. An Enderman appears on your porch—curious and not at all hostile. Surprised by its presence, you notice something strange: it watches you as if it understands everything, silently mocking your every move. There's something about it that feels... more human.
Tags: Scaramouche!Enderman x Reader, 2.400 words, NSFW, with plot, alternate universe, humanoid appearance, I'm not good with tags yet sorry
It was just another day living in the newly created world. The house's blueprints had been drawn from the moment you first set foot there. However, it wasn't until you gathered the right wood and stone that you were able to build it. It took more than two nights to complete, which, consequently, also served to increase your XP and enchant your tools.
And luckily, when she'd explored some caves earlier, she'd found a lot of diamonds. This helped her, even if it was just the basics; in a few days, she'd need to explore the other dimension to improve even further. But for now, it wasn't the time. Living alone, her household chores and survival duties doubled significantly.
The next step required planting a plantation. You were starting to get tired of eating only chicken, and you missed eating vegetables and bread. Even pumpkin pie would do, as long as you didn't eat just one thing.
With lunch served, you walked a little away from the building you called home and stood between the protective fence you'd put up to keep zombies from invading your yard. It was actually quite practical, but it didn't work against skeletons or endermen. Creepers were a special case, as they only explode if you got too close.
This happened a few times when she was distracted and suffered the explosion, breaking half the floor and disappearing her fence.
Half the day passed, and you'd managed to plow almost the entire field. The initial plan was to finish everything in one day, but the weather wasn't cooperating. The clouds in the sky suddenly turned gray, and the wind brought with it the smell of wet earth. With no choice, when the spray started falling, you had to run to the porch.
The flashlights were already on as night approached. You watched the rain fall for a while, testing the quality of the porch you'd built. Luckily, there weren't any leaks anywhere. As you considered your next steps, you heard a teleporting sound nearby. It wasn't too loud, but you couldn't decipher where it came from.
If the Enderman appeared, his sword should be in hand.
But before you could actually get up to retrieve it, purple particles were already visible. The creature was making a loud, indecipherable noise. It was quick, but you saw the black color before closing your eyes and lowering your head. It was obviously there to hide from the rain.
You got up, felt your way along the wall until you reached your door, and entered. Initially, you were supposed to grab your sword and kill him. But then a thought occurred to you. That Enderman was also fighting for his life, just like you. Besides, you didn't need to kill one just yet.
Making the final decision to leave him alone, he decided to lock the door and do something else while he waited for the rain to pass. However, the closer the night approached, the heavier the rain became. With little choice, all that was left was to try to sleep and wait for the next day.
You had a habit of always waking up at the same time in the morning. And as you approached your front door once more, the sound of the rain hadn't subsided. A frustrated sigh escaped your lips, and everything only worsened when you spotted the chest of seeds you'd left near the exit. Afraid it was raining, you didn't think twice before opening the door and leaving.
You immediately regretted it; the cold you felt made your body shiver and shiver. Running to the chest, you retrieved the seeds and turned to go back. It was at that moment that you looked directly at the creature still under your roof, motionless. You were so startled that the seed bags fell to the floor as you stared desperately at the ground.
Oh, sure. It was obvious that Enderman would still be there.
You looked at him, certain of it. Naturally, that was when he approached and tried to attack you. But so far, nothing came. No hostile screams, no teleportation. Nothing. You hurried and gathered the seeds from the ground, but the feeling that something was wrong persisted.
Giving way to curiosity, before entering the house, your hands went to your face, covering it until a gap was visible between your fingers. The moment you looked at the Enderman, his expression left you speechless. The corners of his mouth were pulled back in an almost sarcastic smile. He was mocking you with an air of superiority.
Shock made her frown immediately, her body retreating back into the room. It wasn't a figment of her imagination. Anyway, as long as he didn't attack, you'd probably be safe at home. Pushing any thoughts from her mind, she wandered to the stove to prepare the rest of the chicken she'd gathered last week.
Unfortunately, you didn't do anything really useful that day.
But to make up for this day spent cooped up at home, the next morning the rain had stopped, and your troubles seemed to have disappeared. The Enderman on the porch had left, and you were finally able to plant the seeds you'd so desperately wanted in your garden. While you didn't have much to complain about, some strange occurrences kept recurring.
If it wasn't blocks disappearing from her garden, it was new blocks being brought in and placed randomly inside and outside the fence. That's when she wasn't finding various flowers of different colors being left at her door. Initially, it was frightening. But with years of wisdom and study, she immediately knew the cause.
"Shit…" He cursed under his breath as he stared at the clump of dirt on his porch. Every time, you had to clean these spots to keep your house even remotely organized, you grabbed the stone shovel you'd already left in your inventory for this very purpose as you approached the mound of dirt.
Before she could dig, a loud teleportation sound rang out, and purple particles hovered in front of her, along with the black. The Enderman had teleported in front of her; the sudden contact caused her to stumble backward, falling pathetically to the ground. The pain wasn't severe, but enough to elicit a grunt.
"Not again…" You whimpered, feeling the contact of your palm against the ground. While you weren't paying attention, the Enderman held out his hand, containing a single blue flower. "This is…" You blinked a few times in confusion, your eyes rising to his level. This only confirmed the theory that he hadn't actually intended to attack you.
Still holding the flower outstretched, the Enderman hisses and swings its long arm toward you.
You're not sure what to do, but you end up picking up the flower. The gesture seems to have made the creature happy, as it appears to be celebrating. Still, the interaction doesn't last long. The Enderman teleports away and eventually disappears from your field of vision. Okay, then. Maybe you did the right thing?
…
As the days pass, your normal routine changes before your eyes. The Enderman from that day returned several times. Unlike the previous occasions, he simply remained motionless, watching you work or guarding your home. Interestingly, he even helped fight off approaching hostile mobs, as if protecting the place.
Because of this, it was no surprise to find him on your porch or at your bedroom window. The first time, you nearly fell out of bed when you saw his silhouette there. And even though you couldn't understand what he was saying, you knew he was amused.
It wasn't right away, but when you worked up the courage to actually approach him, you realized he wasn't as tall as most Endermen you'd encountered. Furthermore, the part of his head was also peculiar; its silhouette resembled a haircut, with dark strands falling down to his neck.
One night, when the heat decided to set in, you decided to put your pillows on the balcony to keep your newest friend company and escape the stuffy room. "It's better here..." You murmured, sitting on the floor, adjusting the pillows. The Enderman looked at you curiously, but didn't come closer. With the silence of the night and the slight coolness that was coming, several thoughts came together.
"I think... you need a name." The idea came unexpectedly, but it had a hint of meaning. That creature was practically living with you, helping you, protecting you. The Enderman didn't make a sound in response, just stood there staring. "You look like you've had many names, now it's time to choose a definitive one."
The names were listed in order and counted on your fingers, but no sound seemed to please you.
That's when the creature opened its mouth, the dark purple in its mouth deep. As always, it spoke words you could barely make out, but somehow you thought you heard something like "$c@r@m0u¢h3" being uttered. After several more tries, you finally managed to make it out. Scaramouche. That was the name it was saying.
"That was impressive! Scaramouche. But it's really long," you admit, giving a smirk. "How about Scara or Mouche? Scar sounds nice too." The mention of the latter nickname didn't seem to please him. "Heh, Scara, then." He wavered, looking away. You were so comfortable, you didn't even notice the strap of your nightgown slipping to the side, falling over your shoulder.
But the Enderman, Scaramouche, noticed.
His eyes glinted subtly as he stood up. He walked toward you, his long, large hands gripping your ankle. "Hey?!" The word escaped him as your body slid across the floor, coming to a stop just below Scaramouche. "What are you—" His sentence trailed off as he felt his hands reaching for his shorts. His heart slammed against his chest, and he quickly closed his legs.
The possibility of being touched by him crossed your mind and left your throat dry. It's true that since you woke up in that world, you were the only person in it, except for the Villagers who, well... didn't count. Soon, the lack of physical touch had to be overcome. Your knees gave way first, and the shorts you were wearing were being removed. Little by little, his hand found your panties.
The garment was removed in an instant. With your legs spread, Scaramouche could see everything, from the protruding flesh to the other hole. At first, you thought he would use his long fingers. But when something cold and wet pressed against your entrance, you looked at him once more. Crouched on the ground, his "hair" fell forward, and his thin, sticky tongue was long, very long.
The first lick was timid, as if testing the waters. But it was enough to make you shiver and cringe.
Rolling your tongue around the raised mound, you let out a louder moan. Scaramouche likes the sound he just heard, so he squeezes again, curling and sliding. Saliva, or what you thought was saliva, dripped down his long tongue, dripping and dirtying the floor. As he played around the edges, his tongue inadvertently entered your slit.
The sensation was different, he could feel it. It was hotter, stickier inside, and the inner walls pulsed and squeezed him. Scaramouche slid his tongue deeper, and you groaned. "Hm. That's it!" His voice trailed across the balcony. The way your feet twitched as your legs spread wider was a signal for him to continue.
You move your hips, seeking to take him deeper, and Scaramouche complies. His saliva mingled with your taste, and even though he tried to take it all, it still dripped down your thighs. He let out a husky noise, perhaps something akin to a groan. At some point, you could feel him deeper, pushing past the barrier you barely managed when touching yourself.
His body moved downwards, matching his tongue's movement.
"Fuck, that's it…" You feel your inner walls tremble, until you finally come. The release was so strong that your hips jerked forward, suspended in the air. You sighed through your teeth, feeling the ice of the floor against your warm body. Scaramouche's tongue slowly slipped out of you. Crawling toward you, he rises above your prone body.
Your legs are lifted up to his shoulder. You stare at him in confusion for a few moments, until you feel something thick press against your entrance. A cock. Since when did he have one? Either way, it slides inside, squeezing your inner walls and bumping against your cervix.
It's big. It stretches you completely. One hand is near your head while the other grips your thigh. When it finally slides in completely, you're whimpering, tears welling in the corners of your eyes. The sensation of being filled completely increases as it moves, slamming its body against yours.
It goes deeper than the tongue, catching the deepest spot that clouds your mind.
You don't even care what he is anymore, just that it's so good to have him there.
His mouth opens and his tongue slides out, penetrating the sweaty, sheer blouse he wore. One of your breasts is quickly enveloped by his sticky tongue, where he presses and licks the hard peak. You moan louder and more slowly, being driven to the brink of pleasure.
"Scara," you moan before your hands touch the Enderman. He makes a sound, going deeper than before. His thrusts become more violent and forceful, reverberating through your body. Adding another surprise to the night, Scaramouche suddenly stops moving, roaring as he releases hot spurts inside you.
The feeling of being filled didn't disappear; on the contrary, it intensified. Strangely, his cock seemed to have grown in size, and what's more, he wouldn't pull out. He continued thrusting inside as his own cum leaked out. You writhed, your hips throbbing. You wrapped your legs around his black body, forcing him deeper. Your body had given in once more, coming as you held him.
▬▬▬ Synopsis: After returning from the dreaded Feral Hunt, something unexpected happens: your boyfriend, Flins, wakes up with feline ears and a tail that appeared as if by magic. At first, it seemed like nothing more than a quirky enchantment, hardly something that could shake your relationship. But Flins is about to reveal what these changes truly mean.
Tags: Flins!Cat/Híbrido x Fem! Reader, 600 words, smut, SFW e NSFW, no spoilers, just mention of Fierce Hunt
On the last Wild Hunt before dawn, everything went well. Except for one strange thing that happened to her boyfriend, Flins. Ears the same color as her hair and a long tail appeared on top of his head. Initially, the next morning, it was a shock to see him like this when he entered her room.
When he saw you, his ears twitched slightly while his tail swished from side to side. The reason for this remained a mystery, but it was enough to change some of Flins's actions and make him extremely cute on occasion.
For someone who rarely changed his expression, he became extremely sensitive to any slightest touch or interaction you had with any part of his body. He even went so far as to press his cheek against your back and rub his face there while hugging you from behind.
That wasn't the only time. So much so that the first time you worked up the courage to pet the top of his head, you swore you heard him purr with his eyes closed as he leaned in closer to feel your touch. From then on, whenever Flins has a moment to spare, he'll insinuate and want a pat on the top of his head.
The same thing happens when he sneaks into your bed late at night or in the morning. It's inevitable that his tail will wrap around your thighs or calves when Flins is lying too close. This means you often wake up with extra weight on your body and can only get out of bed when he's awake.
It makes sense that his sense of smell would be heightened and sensitive to all kinds of scents, especially if they were coming from you. So, imagine his surprise when you went to visit Flins at the lighthouse and ended up perched on a rock to support his weight, with him between your legs. Sniffing and nuzzling through your clothes.
When small spasms and moans reached his ears, he realized what he was doing and immediately pulled away. According to him, Flins went into a trance, and before he knew it, he was already there. From then on, you'd be careful. Especially if you were in a public place with people.
Maybe if you'd paid more attention, you wouldn't have to wake up every night with the wet, throbbing sensation between your legs, where all you could feel upon waking was Flins's tongue thrusting into your already drooling slit, mixing it with his own juices. He sucked, licked, and bit with the sharp canines you discovered too late.
Flins was in a trance, needing to taste her more. The noises she made, along with his heavy breathing, echoed obscenely throughout the room. His tail was noticeably swinging frantically from side to side. And like the good knight he is, while he loses himself there, he won't let a single drop escape.
Or when you were reading a book at the table, and Flins came over asking for a pat on the head. By accident, you started playing with his ears, wrapping them around your finger and scratching. That was enough for him to whip out his dick and start bombarding you right then and there.
You only realized this was happening later when Flins suddenly squeezed his eyes shut and began panting frantically. When you looked down, you saw him leaking and clutching his own size in his hands. That day, Flins had sneaked in and gotten where he wanted from the start.
The position didn't matter, as long as he could get his drooling cock past her tight walls and be consumed by them.
▬▬▬ Douma x Fem!Reader, 600 words, gore, mention of smut, obsession, yandere, part 2?
︶︶︶︶︶ ୨୧ ︶︶︶︶︶
The dense, menacing energy that hung in the air was both strange and all too familiar. They knew this energy already, they knew it all too well. It was ingrained in the blood that made them demons. But you weren't their leader. No, not the man who gave them a second chance at power and another lease on life to exact revenge.
Still, you were there as an equal with him.
“That’s enough."
Her voice echoes, loud enough to reach him from the distance she was standing. "As always, I won't interfere with anything you do. I'll just be observing; you know where to find me if you need my help." Her previous expression was replaced by a more relaxed, comfortable smile. The message had been conveyed, so there was no need to sound as threatening as he did.
Always walking around with a frown would ruin your beauty.
The moons remained bowed the entire time, that is, until Muzan left. The air was now different from the pressure they had felt before, and a lightness filled them with the sudden change. "Who are you?" Though she was hesitant to ask, Daki resolved to be the first to do so. Still, the steady gaze never left her face.
"Darling... You don't need to worry about me. I have no intention of stealing your King for myself." The tenderness in his gaze made Daki's posture falter. "Think of me as a safe haven. If you need a place to rest, train, or pass the time, come find me." His gaze swept the room, taking in everyone present.
"That's very generous of you, beautiful lady." Douma spoke beside you, his body shifting so his hand could touch yours. However, just before he could touch you, that same hand was cut off, and his body was knocked to the ground. "I wonder... when did I give you permission to touch me?" Once again, his expression had changed.
The delicate, beautiful gaze from before completely lost its luster, becoming cold, empty, and distant. The way it changed so quickly created an unexpected loop in Douma's mind. In a way, the change reminded him of you. You were on his stomach, his dominant hand had gone straight to his neck with a certain pressure, like a silent warning.
If I wanted, I could strangle him right there or rip his head off with my hands.
Suddenly, several thoughts surged through Douma's mind. He didn't know why, perhaps it was the pressure it exerted on his body, but his chest ached in a different way. He couldn't pinpoint what it was. Something inside him stirred, and he smiled. He smiled like someone discovering a new obsession, something new to pursue.
When you saw his smile, the first thing you noticed was his glistening canines. His cheeks, along with his ears, turned a rosy pink as his chest rose and fell, breathless and hot. Hot. Something he never imagined he'd feel amidst all the coldness and absence that was his.
Douma is almost sure, but if he took any longer he would end up with an erection, too hard to resolve on its own.
Either way, you thought that was enough and walked away slowly, your eyes half-closed, without saying a word. "The Blue Mist Mountain is my home," you informed him, those were your last words before turning to leave. Your business was finished there; Muzan, like it or not, would need your help at some point.
▬▬▬ Wise x Fem!Reader, smut, 1.000 words, masturbation, trapped orgasm, stolen panties, oral receiving and giving
︶︶︶︶︶ ୨୧ ︶︶︶︶︶
Since you moved in, Belle, an extremely competent Proxy, has become your best friend. Your odd tastes in movies and games may have helped this friendship. Living in a video store, you often went there for movie nights, resulting in you spending the night there every time. Wise, who also shared the Proxy title, was used to the visits.
That was one of those nights. As always, Belle passed out in bed while watching the movie she'd put on. You weren't sleepy yet; quite the opposite, you were wide awake. The movie on TV was over, and you were starting to get bored. Getting out of bed, you left the room to get a glass of water.
It may not seem like it, but the top of the rental store is very hot.
As you passed through the hallways, Wise's bedroom door was ajar. Since it was on your way, you considered closing it so as not to disturb his privacy. However, as you approached, the movement of the bed caught your attention. Lying face down on the mattress, Wise was pantsless, wearing only a loose blouse.
He kept his eyes closed the entire time. In his hands were two extremely familiar panties, one balled up in his fist as it was frantically slid down his throbbing cock. The extra bedding was lightly stained with fresh, clear stains; something transparent and slimy was soaking into the panties. His legs quickly closed as he took in the scene, his mouth drier than before.
Her stomach tightened even more when she realized those were her panties.
The other panty was pointed directly at his nose, and he inhaled the scent sharply as he licked it. You definitely never thought you'd witness something like this. On the other hand, Wise was in heaven. He'd taken to this habit for a few days now. At first, it was just towels he'd put in the wash; it had never been as extreme as it was now.
However, the familiar scent he encountered on one of them while helping Belle with the laundry drove him wild. He wanted to smell it directly from you, but that turned out to be just a figment of his imagination. The blood pumped to his slightly pink head, and with the addition of the panties, it seemed he had gained a new purpose.
The more he pleasured himself, the harder it became to release. Since this began, he had never been able to truly orgasm. That didn't stop him from continuing the process, however exhausting it was. He needed to release everything that had accumulated over the previous days. His middle finger teased the tip, making him fearful and lift his hips higher to create friction.
Her fist squeezed hard but gently, the length completely wet. Her underwear was in the same state. The panties in her other hand were left on the bed so she could reach her other hand toward her balls. She squeezed them vigorously and played with one, even though the pressure was hurting and swelling, it wasn't enough to release.
It was becoming obvious; his arms were aching from all the movement, frustrated groans trying to be muffled by the mattress. In the end, he collapsed onto the bed exhausted. It wasn't working. Wise needed something more stimulating and physical. His vision blurred as he tried to distinguish between reality and illusion. "[Name]..." He blurted, his face flushed, and small drops of tears gathered in the corners of his eyes.
Witnessing the way he called out to you made your heart race; it was definitely a call. So, who would be crazy enough to refuse? Gathering the courage to open the door, it took a moment for him to look at you. "A dream…" You looked down at him. Great, he thought it was a dream. Great. Now you wouldn't have to be embarrassed.
"What do you want me to do?”
"Sit on my face and suck me." He smiled, his eyes clouded with pleasure. Removing the bottom of his pajamas, a clear string connects the panties to your wet hole. You're careful as you stand on Wise's bed, distributing your weight on the mattress, your face facing his cock. The first contact comes from him, timid, as if he's afraid to wake up.
"It's real! Fuck, it's real!" He grunts, his tongue teasing your entrance. A few more seconds, and Wise is sucking every drop that spills from your slit without wasting it. It was truly real, the taste, the smell, the flavor. It was all yours. His face is smeared with your juice. It's satisfying. Trembling on top of him, you lie back and move your hands to Wise's legs.
They guide his cock into their mouths, where they timidly lick the glans. The balls are gently squeezed occasionally. Going deeper, much of the saliva covers the base while one hand caresses the places he can't reach. Even though it was a 'dream,' the sensations were so good and too intense for him to want to finish.
Wise licks and sticks a finger in for further stimulation. It's not much different from the fabric of your panties, but he's sure he can come with it. You sigh heavily, trying not to stop and moan. The texture of your tongue engulfing you as you feel your teeth occasionally graze your skin was driving you wild. Repeating that cycle a few more times, Wise feels close.
Taking it deep enough, Wise feels his feet twitch in the air. He's finally released. Though it's in small bursts, they're thick and completely hot. His breathing is deep, and his head slides back into the mattress, his eyes closing. Apparently, he's passed out. However, you haven't come yet.
▬▬▬ Yandere!Heizou x Fem!Reader, 500 words stalker, manipulation, SFW
︶︶︶︶︶ ୨୧ ︶︶︶︶︶
Yandere!Heizou has a habit of observing things he finds beautiful, and you were one of those things. One day, by a stroke of fate, you went to the police station to report a robbery. That very day, Yandere!Heizou was nearby to deliver some evidence in a newly discovered case. It was love at first sight.
Yandere!Heizou will do everything to find out your name, age, address and even who your relatives are in Inazuma.
After her little discovery, Yandere!Heizou will continue to observe her from afar while thinking of a situation to approach. Like a detective, Yandere!Heizou will take advantage of her skills and status. When she gathers enough information, Yandere!Heizou will step in.
It's just a coincidence when Yandere!Heizou saves you from a damn stalker, whom he himself hired to manipulate the whole situation.
Chance encounters with Yandere!Heizou proved frequent, and Yandere!Heizou made it clear that his appearance was an extremely rare event, as he is a busy detective and worker. That's why his smiles were shown frequently, as a reward for Yandere!Heizou's constant efforts.
At first, Yandere!Heizou can only make do with smiles. It's enough to fill his humble heart.
Yandere!Heizou is hostile to anyone who approaches you. However, you're content to keep it to yourself. That doesn't mean Yandere!Heizou won't know everything about you the next day, especially if your radiant smile is directed at anyone other than yourself.
Yandere!Heizou doesn't usually act brutally, but in this case, he'll make exceptions. Perhaps the next day you'll hear that this person was unfortunately beaten up on the street by inconvenient thieves.
Once he finally gets her attention, Yandere!Heizou starts acting bold. Sometimes he asks her out on a date, other times he just shows up to make her blush with double-entendre jokes. Until he finally becomes your safe haven, Yandere!Heizou encourages you to tell him about your daily life, offering advice and tips on certain situations.
You're easily manipulated, especially if Yandere!Heizou delivers cute gifts that interest you. So, you taking the bait wasn't a surprise. It was only a matter of time before Yandere!Heizou started planting ideas in your head that the outside world was extremely dangerous. As long as you trusted Yandere!Heizou, everything would be fine.
Yandere!Heizou is smart, the chances of being discovered are completely zero. For now, you can roam freely around, Yandere!Heizou will continue to lurk, dealing with any brainless idiot who crosses your path, Yandere!Heizou will take care of what is yours until the moment he finally has you in his arms.
▬▬▬ Gepard Landau x Fem!Reader, 1.360 words, provocation, smut, discussion about size
︶︶︶︶︶ ୨୧ ︶︶︶︶︶
Gepard definitely doesn't admire your unscrupulous approach to work. However, he's not the one being praised by Dame Bronya. "You may leave," she says, the greeting is quickly given, and in an instant, you're walking out of the room. There's a satisfying smile on your face; he knows she'll open her mouth to provoke him at any moment.
"Is your pride hurt?" The words were directed at him, but he didn't dare respond. "Of course you are. Even if you act like a puppy, you can't be praised." Her smile only widened when she saw him frown and clench his fists. All Gepard should do was ignore her. "Maybe you should be less rigid and kind to people."
"Poor Gep, he'll have to be demoted again to learn how to…" Every word that came out of your mouth was ignored after you called him that nickname. He lost his temper as he pushed you against the wall, his arms wrapped around your head as he glared furiously. "Don't call me that nickname! And there's only one person who would complain about my work."
"And as long as that person isn't you, you have no right to open that damn mouth!" His face was close, the armor he wore could easily crush your small body against the wall. This attitude made you laugh. "What's wrong with you? Cornering me against the wall like that, you could almost say you want to fuck me," you said, and he quickly let out a confused expression.
"What?"
"I'm just kidding. I doubt your size will satisfy me," you added, patting his shoulder. Amazingly, his cheeks began to turn pink. Apparently, you'd caught him off guard. "I-It's not small…" Gepard murmured, unintentionally, and then he finally pulled away. Having this kind of conversation with you was pointless, a waste of time.
"Oh? Really? I don't believe it. And well, not just me. Most people believe it, which is why we've never seen him with a partner." You joke, circling him while waiting for a reaction. "There are more important things than that, like my job, for example." He tried to sound firm. "It sounds like an excuse to me." You pointed and leaned in to whisper some dirty words in his ear.
"Or maybe you've never had pussy? That's a little sad. And it's a little weird to think about touching yourself. Tell me, have you ever had one?" The hot air brushed against his ear. If he'd felt embarrassed before, now he was on fire. Somehow, her words turned his stomach and made his heart race.
How could he say that kind of thing in a non-private setting?
"I highly doubt you knew what it was like to have your own cum smeared all over your hands. Or someone's mouth sucking every last drop out of you." Giving up after seeing him fall silent and squeeze his eyes shut, the blush on his face only confirmed it. You smiled contentedly and walked away to turn the corner. However, Gepard lunged at you and grabbed your arm tightly, pulling you wherever you went.
“Huh? Wait! What are you doing!?”
You're completely ignored. However, when you subtly turn your head in his direction, you catch Gepard's angry gaze and flushed cheeks. "I'll show you," was all he could say, his mind racing. However, Gepard wouldn't give you the taste of victory. He would emerge victorious this time. You tried to understand what he was really trying to say.
It couldn't be what you were thinking, right? He wouldn't have the courage.
The bathroom door at the end of the hallway swung open and closed quickly, the click confirming it. You were thrown into the corner as you watched him closely for any movement. First, he removed his gloves, then the accessories on his upper body, then his boots and the fluffy fabric of his shirt beneath his armor.
Your eyes widened as you watched him lower the waistband of his pants, leaving you in just his underwear. He was actually doing it. There was a near-tent there. Walking toward you, his face and the tips of his ears reddened, you once again find yourself against the wall. Unlike earlier, his knee moves between your legs.
Gepard's arms are preventing any escape.
"I'll prove to you that I can be more than enough." Determination flashes across your flushed face. However, you return to your normal self and decide to tease him again. "I want to see this, but... are you really serious about this?" You teased and lifted your body forward, your breasts crushing against his chest. You shamelessly rubbed yourself against Gepard's thigh.
That was the opening for him to back off, and you reversed roles. "Let's see if it's really big." You smiled as you pushed him toward the toilet. His underwear was lowered in the blink of an eye, his eyes shining and enchanted by the sight. It was almost cute, the way the pink tip glistened and swayed. "I'll give you a reward for this, but don't get used to it." You begged and began to remove your own clothes.
Dropping them to the floor, you walk over to him. Your fingers go to his labia to part them and mount Gepard. The sudden contact of your hand against his cock makes him tremble, and you guide him to your entrance. "Wait... what about foreplay?" His shaky voice is like a song to your ears. "Fuck them, it's okay. Just give me every last drop, okay?" he asked slyly.
He would protest again, but you welcome him without further delay. It's a new sensation that makes him want to move; the image of you jumping on him makes him lose his composure. Gepard reaches desperately to grip your waist; he's dared to seek attention from your breasts. His tongue teases the hardened tip; he enjoys the sensation.
A few more seconds and he could say he was in heaven.
The heat your body was transmitting and sharing with him was palpable, his hips moving in sync with yours. "I…" He whimpered, disjointed, meaningless words escaping his mouth. "It's… enough, right?" He murmured, his head resting against your body. "I'm big…" A few murmurs of this kind were released more than once. You stopped moving to try to make him go deeper.
Your hands wandered to his face, your breathing heavy and uneven. "It's big, thick, and delicious. I love it!" You smiled and placed a kiss on their lips, your forehead sliding down to Gepard's shoulder. You sought comfort and tried to move your hips slowly. Your legs trembled with excitement, you gripped his strong arms, releasing your cum in a sticky mess.
Her condition was different from his, apparently, Gepard was able to be quite resilient.
Not satisfied, he finally stands up and guides you into the cramped shower. Your leg is lifted so that it rests on Gepard's shoulder, the way it's spread gives the feeling he can go deeper. You're sensitive by now, uncontrolled moans escaping your mouth. He's keeping you upright while he's being rough.
This time, it's Gepard who initiates the kiss. His tongue plays fiercely in her mouth, drool dripping unintentionally as her breath is stolen. Every now and then, she feels her lips being subtly bitten. The thrusts are making her mind spin, and oxygen returns to her lungs in a short space of time.
On one of these occasions, Gepard intertwines your hands and kisses you more intensely. You only realize he was gushing when the juices began to run down your legs. It was thicker than you imagined. When he releases your mouth, you struggle for air, just as he does. Gepard's head rests on your neck; from that moment on, that action wouldn't happen again or twice.
▬▬▬ Yandere!Ororon x Fem!Reader, kidnapping, dream as prophecy, 2.305 words, masturbation, mild obscenity
︶︶︶︶︶ ୨୧ ︶︶︶︶︶
Dark. You couldn't see where you were; your body seemed to float in the infinite darkness. The only thing you could hear was your own breathing. For a moment, you felt breath brush against the tip of your neck. Yet you couldn't move to see who it was. "You smell so good," the voice whispered.
A shiver runs up your spine as your heart races.
The seconds ticked by, but the anxiety worsened when you felt a pair of arms encircle your body. The touch was somehow careful and strangely gentle, as if it didn't want to hurt you. You felt the taller body tremble subtly at the contact, your back pressed against a hard surface.
The tip of a nose pressed against her skin, hands roamed shamelessly over her body, exploring and squeezing certain areas. Her mind clouded as she felt a hand between her thighs. "I'll be waiting for you…" He whispered, a wet kiss leaving a goodbye on the tip of her ear.
The next thing you saw was the familiar ceiling of your room. Sweat dripped down and soaked the bed sheets as you struggled to regulate your breathing. It was a dream. You were dreaming, even though the touches and whispers seemed quite vivid. It took a long time before you finally managed to get up.
His eyes shifted to the open window, the light revealing the time.
Gathering the last of your strength, you crawled out of bed while gathering loose clothing for everyday wear. Unfortunately, you would have to replenish the stock in your sister's place. She had recently married and was on her honeymoon, so she took a break from the family vegetable stand.
Apparently, the supplier didn't sell his garden for money, but rather gave it to people he liked. Of course, his family didn't accept it for free; quite the opposite, they were willing to do whatever he needed. As a member of the Children of Echoes, the journey to the Masters of the Night Wind would be a long one.
While you don't judge people based on gossip, the things people said about them were that they were a bunch of weirdos. But since you've never had direct contact with them, you don't share their opinion. "Do you want me to bring you anything on the way back?" You asked when you spotted the woman in the kitchen, reading the morning paper while sipping from a cup.
"Brigadier. You can choose between bringing the ingredients or buying it ready-made." That was all she said, without taking her eyes off the paper. Silently agreeing, you muttered that you were leaving right after getting the money. It was a bad habit of yours not to eat at home when you left somewhere early, and no matter how much your mother scolded you, you continued to do it.
Anyway, the money came from his work, so it didn't make that much of a difference.
Greeting some passing ladies, she quickly ran down the hill to leave the Children of Echoes' home. Fortunately, Yurthal, a well-known freight carrier in the family, was waiting for her with a wooden cart. "If I'd known you'd be here already, I would have come sooner."
"There was no need. I managed to enjoy it and get something to eat." He gave a shy smile. Leaving the cart, Yurthal gets ready for the journey to begin, and you quickly join him. The route is full of detours and pauses for proper rest. To continue on the road, they would have to pass the Sacred Flame Stadium.
With each step, the surrounding conversations faded, until silence fell, broken only by the sound of their own footsteps. After a few twists and turns, they finally reached the entrance to the Sacred Flame Stadium. The place exuded a vibrant energy; bright lights reflected off the grand walls.
You followed Yurthal as they passed through the Stadium gates and continued along the trail beside it. The path narrowed as they moved away and entered another area. When they finally spotted the tribe, their route diverted to a remote area. The supplier didn't live with them, but rather lived completely alone.
"We're here. I'll have to stay here; going down that little hill is a pain with this cart," Yurthal warns, ready to carry anything. "Okay, I'll be right back." You say a quick goodbye as you walk up the small slope. As you approach the sort of house in the wall, a well-kept vegetable garden catches your eye.
It was green and beautiful, and somehow, it managed to hold your attention for a long time. So much so that you didn't notice someone else approaching. "Excuse me, would you like to take some?" The male voice sounded friendly, his eyes quickly moving away from the plantation. Heterochromatic eyes stared at you intensely, with dark bags under his eyes.
The low voice, you had the feeling you had heard it somewhere before.
However, despite him asking something, your mind wasn't paying much attention. He called you ma'am. Did you really look that old? "Excuse me, ma'am?" You repeated the words in confusion as you waited for an answer. "Huh? Yes. Aren't you just like Grandma?" You blinked a few times at his confused expression.
"Grandma?! How old do you think I am?!" His voice rose slightly as his eyes narrowed. "You know what, don't answer!" He interrupted before he could respond. "You're the supplier? Just give me the boxes!" He concluded, crossing his arms. You were irritated, and he didn't know why. "Boxes? What happened to that girl?"
Her indignation only increased when he called her sister a girl.
"On vacation," he muttered in disgust. "Nice to meet you, Grandma. I'm Ororon." The more he spoke, the angrier she became. When he didn't receive an answer, Ororon continued to stand there, waiting to hear his name. "What is it?" you asked, giving him a strange look. "Your name," he muttered as if it were obvious.
You hesitated for a moment. "I'll tell you, but you have to promise me you'll stop calling me Grandma," you suggested, looking directly at him. He nodded quickly. "[Name]." The words came out in a low voice, and then he simply turned to retrieve the crates from inside the house. You waited patiently for him to return.
"Here you go." He approached again, this time carrying two large crates filled with his produce. Without thanking him, you took the crates and walked back. "Have a great sale!" That was Ororon's way of saying goodbye. Once he managed to load the crates onto the cargo cart, Yurthal quickly helped and set about organizing them.
You manage to retrace your steps without any problems; it was even easier. Thankfully, you made it before dinner, and you can buy the brigadeiros your mother wanted so much. Over the next few days, you manage the store's sales shipment, and as expected, they all sold out almost immediately.
Before long, her sister was back in business. However, having acquired a knack for selling, she asked to help her at the stall. She accepted with open arms and was even extremely happy with her help. The tasks were divided equally; however, one in particular fell to her: collecting the food.
This meant you'd see Ororon often. Over time, you began to understand why you'd been compared to his grandmother when you first met. Citlali, or better known as 'Grandma Itztli,' a well-known and reclusive shaman, ended up caring for him, and because she was older than she looked, it was customary to call everyone that.
Especially if these people are from your tribe.
You began to understand him better, even if only a little. That's why you managed to get some lessons on turnips and collard greens. "Are you free tomorrow?" Ororon's voice echoed very close, and only then did you realize he'd suddenly approached. "Tomorrow? Um... No, I was called on a date."
You murmured, returning to tending the soil. The sound of the watering can falling drew your attention once more. "Are you okay?" You asked, watching his eyes widen slightly as his face turned completely pale. "A-ah, yes! Sorry, maybe the sleepless nights are taking their toll."
Ororon was quick to find an excuse. "How about you lie down for a bit? I'll take care of this, and as soon as I'm done, I'll come home." You suggested, your expression replaced by concern. He automatically agreed. With long strides, he walked into the house.
No, no, no, no, and no. This shouldn't be happening. Ororon planned everything with triple the care he had taken; everything was going well, everything was in order, but by a mere interference, you risked being out of his reach. The thought of this happening makes his chest ache. Ororon wouldn't lose the seed that was growing so vigorously for him. He would definitely find a way to fix this, legally or illegally.
That's exactly what he did. Before you could even leave the house for your date, a sleep incense was placed and lit in your room. That night, your parents had gone out to dinner with some acquaintances to celebrate the profit they'd made on their latest sale.
You faded like a beautiful, delicate flower. Your illusion technique proved useful in hiding your unconscious body while he brought you to his house.
For a moment, your eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness. It was a familiar setting, with chairs scattered around the table, a few potted plants in the corners, and even some instruments for weaving the story of Natlan's warriors. You'd been there before, but why was everything in complete darkness?
Fully awake, you tried to move. However, you couldn't. A rope was tied around your wrists. What was happening? Fear and anxiety surged through your chest, as if you were experiencing déjà vu. The sensation was similar to being paralyzed in that dream with that strange person.
When the living room door opened, Ororon approached calmly. "You're not hurting, are you?" he asked, but you couldn't find the words. "I'm sorry, I don't have any comfortable seating in my house. Except my bed…" Ororon trailed off in thought for a few seconds. "Never mind that, you look beautiful. It's a shame you didn't dress up for me."
With those final words, the reality of what was happening finally sank in. "Is that what Madame Itztli taught you? It's wrong, Ororon." He tried to keep his voice steady and calm. Sometimes he acted like a curious child, so deep down, he thought that was what was happening.
“No… If Grandma knew, she would spank me. I… I know it’s wrong, but I didn’t see any other solution. You were leaving.”
“Away? What do you mean?”
At first, he didn't respond. Instead, he moved closer and sat on her lap, their legs intertwined on the chair. The contact and warmth quickly became apparent as his hands rose to her face. "With that short guy…" she whispered in disgust.
He was referring to the guy who asked her out on a date.
"I don't... it was just a meeting with friends..." You tried to say something. And then, pleading eyes were directed at you. "I believe what you say, but not him. That means you'll never abandon me, right?" The answer he wanted was a trap. It was obvious, even though he was waiting for an answer.
You took a deep breath, trying to maintain a neutral expression along with a forced smile. "Yes... I would never abandon you, ever." A bitter taste rose in your throat and stuck there. Ororon seemed to believe it; his eyes lit up. He pulled you to his chest in a tender gesture.
You feel a kiss being placed on the top of your head.
“You smell so good..!”
You stop and hold your breath, you've heard that phrase before.
On impulse, Ororon wrapped his arms around your head, trying to hug you. You were being crushed against him. "I can finally hold you in my arms…" He murmured, feeling his body feverish and trembling with happiness. "All the sleepless nights I spent thinking about you were worth it, thank you, thank you."
Ororon repeated this over and over like a mantra. The body that had been sitting slid to the ground as he placed several seals on her body. Finally, Ororon knelt and stood between one of her legs. His head rested gently against her belly and breasts. It was soft and comfortable.
His body entwines with one of your legs, Ororon constantly rubbing himself there. It's impossible to think with someone as needy as him around. You quickly blush. You can hear him panting as the rustle of clothes echoes through the closed house. He's flushed and smiling widely.
The ear on top of his head moved subtly. It was cute, you admit. Shifting in your seat from the heat you felt building, a soft moan escapes Ororon. You freeze again. You didn't want it to continue, but you also didn't want the contact to end. It was… strange, to say the least.
The hardness rubbing against your leg made your mouth dry. He lays his head on the tips of your thighs, saliva dripping down Ororon's mouth. You feel your insides contract at the sight. However, he suddenly stops, closing his eyes as he gasps for air. Apparently, Ororon falls asleep in your lap minutes later.
