YOU CAN INTERACT IF YOU'RE AFAB BUT PLEASE REALIZE THIS IS MY RULES, DO NOT BOTHER OTHER MALE!READER AUTHORS FOR NOT WANTING YOU TO INTERACT!
Do not request the general creepy shit. I don't like writing CNC or dubcon, scat, bestiality, and no angst, I ONLY write for top!reader but both sub!top and dom!top are a-okay. I might put unmentioned genitalia but Reader is still male because you can be male no matter what fucking genitalia you have
Fandoms:
Obey Me! (Not Asmo, can't write for him OR LUKE.)
My Own Weird Ass Story (The Purity)
Don't Hug Me I'm Scared (Humanized, no Yellow)
My Friend's Stories (I have their consent but I will be running all requests through them):
Please tell me what else to add to the tags, I don't want to be an ass.
Reader X Suromath: Oral Obsessed Suromath, Mor'oth is a God (70,000+) and Reader is like a middle-aged man, Humans have flatter teeth and he is amazed, hemipenis, Blowie (Mor'oth Receiving)
amab Suromath, unmentioned genitalia Reader
Requested by Pyrrhic who made Suromath https://www.quotev.com/story/15184487/Life-Of-An-Accidental-Summoner/1
His eyes don't stray from your mouth, watching you talk even after you've caught him staring. Even his children find it weird, Azrail giving his father a glance and Palaemon fumbling with his fork until they get fed up and leave.
"Look, whatever is going on, can you guys solve it?"
Azrail huffs, takes his brother and stomps out of the house. You turn to Suromath, crossing your arms with a harsh stare.
"What is going on?"
Mor'oth stands and you can answer that question yourself.
"You're hard."
He stops moving, tensing his shoulders.
"I'm sorry."
You catch his whisper. You stand, cornering him against the table, your arms at his sides. He's avoiding your eyes, looking to the side.
"We've had sex before, what's the difference now?"
"Because,"
His hands shoot up, gripping your jaw. His thumbs slip into your mouth, grazing your molars, but he's the one that's drooling.
"I'm getting hard from your mouth. It's weird, I'm sorry-"
You grab one of his hands, pulling it out of your mouth. He tries to pull away his other hand but you suck on it and he immediately stops. You place his free hand on your hip, his pointer and middle finger slipping into your mouth.
He pulls you closer, grinding his digits against the top of your teeth.
"Thank you, thank you, your mouth is so soft."
You can see his fangs, what must make him so enamored with your mouth. You lower your hands, undoing the dress pants he insists on wearing, and then drop to your knees.
His breath picks up, both of his hands tightly gripping the table.
You tug at his pants and both of his cocks slip out. He shivers at the cold air on his skin.
"You want this?"
"Please, yes, do it, please-"
You cut him off, easily going down on one of his smallish cocks, wetting it before pulling off. You wrap your hand around the wetted hemipenis, starting at a slow, milking, pace and focus on the second.
You lick the head, focusing on his glans while your other hand begins massaging his thigh. You graze your teeth on his skin, feeling his shiver, and increase your speed on his cock.
"Oh, fuck, mouth so warm, feels so good- ah, darling! Gonna cum, slow down, don't wanna be so quick-"
My first-ever sort of smut thing. Please tell me what else to add to the tags, I don't want to be an ass.
Soft Dom Male Reader X Sub Lord Ernest: Penetration (Ernest Receiving), Blood Drinking, Messy Blood Drinking, Lord Ernest Is 500+ Y.o, Not A Professional Relationship (Butler Reader, Master Ernest)
unmentioned genitalia Ernest, amab Reader
I MADE Lord Ernest and he's still OOC
Porn/Fluff Without Plot
His fangs, two large pearly canines next to his front incisors, dig into your shoulder as you massage circles onto his clothed back. You wince, still not used to being a living blood bag, and softly thrust upwards.
He sighs, his hands grasping your shirtless torso to anchor himself, and grinds downwards onto your cock. A breath of laughter leaves your mouth, one hand seizing his hip to discourage him from taking control, and your other tangles into his mess of hair. You tug, feeling his teeth slide out of your flesh, and stare at his yellow eyes.
He's about to go feral, give in to his desires as the King would say, but you ground him with another thrust and you let yourself appreciate his appearance.
Gleaming yellow eyes, though he can't seem to make eye contact with you, his pants ruffled, fallen, at his ankles, and your blood smeared across his maw. You chuckle, letting go of his hair to wipe the ichor from his lips, leaving the rest of the red filth against his cheek and chin.
"I wish you could see yourself, so pretty, such a mess."
He whines, allowing you to place your thumb in his mouth, and he's stuck between sucking on your digit and complaining.
He manages to find a middle ground.
"Shus' up, I can schill kill you-"
You thrust up again, continuing at an even pace, listening to him moan against your digit but you grin and remove your thumb.
"Oh, does the pretty vamp want to say something?"
He growls, or tries to, but you pull him back to your shoulder. He bites again, whining against your skin. You can feel some of your own ichor dripping down your skin, every grind dirtying his shirt with your blood, and his thighs slowly being covered in your life force.
You tug his pointed ear, silently taunting him to ease the protests out of his maw but he huffs and keeps drinking.
"No? Nothing you want to say?"
You can feel him shake his head ever so slightly.
"Okay, pretty boy, just keep drinking and I'll take care of you."
The Purity - Chapter One (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1278881967-the-purity-chapter-one?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=GodIsFeared&wp_originator=%2BMbkeULDKd7juBCyJ%2FEBBVmnmHQu%2FLg2tfGBVwFdHwgkDh7agkUstjoJ4yowCPdFbxZYGd6WfD9FHwuj8Zb7dGsx0QibrYKlg2BA%2F8Z9aJAlyITi53mJfjiuq9Vyls8u Silk, masks, and blood. The Purity Ball is hosted once every year, an event the high-class wait for excitedly and the lower-class dread the moment the high-class step into the ballroom. Well, not every lower-class peasant dreads the day, they linger patiently for when they'll be invited to kneel and the steel is lifted to their neck. They are the sacrifices chosen, the ones captivating enough to impress even those with the highest standards, and the ones pristine enough to rinse away the evils committed by the ones who sip from the sacrifice. A complete year of planning goes into each event, beginning the very following day of the ball and finishing the day of. Then again, not everything can go according to plan.
