You can read the rest of kinktober stories in this masterlist.
Bus stop
Lizardman x fem!reader || teasing, (light) dirty talk, grinding, public sex (not caught)
Getting out of the house is all fun and giggles until you have a couple of drinks and have to grab a bus to get back home. Your beautiful little black dress is not so pretty now that your ass is cold and your skin is covered in goosebumps. You keep looking over your lizardman boyfriend who looks completely relaxed as he chills next to you, not bothered by the cold at all.
“I’m so cold, where the fuck is this bus?” You complain again.
“It will be here in about fifteen minutes, like I told you thirty seconds ago,” your lizard boyfriend repeats, looking at you fondly. You pout in his direction, and he chuckles. “Come here, I’ll warm you up.” He pats his lap and you arch an eyebrow.
“You are cold-blooded, you can’t warm me up,” you tell him but move to sit on his lap either way, facing him. At least you can snuggle with him and get some coziness to make you feel better. His arms come to embrace you instantly, making you feel a bit better.
“It’s not that cold- Ouch!” He complains with a chuckle when you bite him playfully on the arm. “I can get you hot if I want,” the innuendo in his voice is clear.
“Don’t joke, I’m freezing.” You hide your face in his neck, kissing his scales softly as he rubs your back slowly with his too cold hands.
“Aww, poor human, getting cold in the night. Maybe we can get your blood pumping again, do you want that?” You hum, thinking he’s just messing around. “Ride my leg, then. That will make you feel all warm,” he deadpans, making you gasp in surprise. Of all the things you expected him to say, that’s not it.
You pull back enough to look at him, his face nonchalant as he looks back at you. “Wh- what? Here?! Somebody could see!” Your voice is a hushed whisper, scandalized that he wants you to do that.
He laughs, looking around and smirking. “Come on, this place is deserted, nobody is going to see…” He moves his hips a little and you can feel his hard on pressing against your center.
Your little black dress rode up enough that your panties are resting against his jeans. You can’t believe you are really considering what he’s offering, but you are cold, and the contact with his clothed dick is already warming you up.
“You promise?” You ask, your hips moving over his hard on in little thrusts that make your heartbeat pick up as he grunts low and guttural. The sound only makes you want to moan.
He nods once, his big claws pressing to the side of your thighs. “I promise.”
He helps you move against his leg, the fly of his jeans hitting your clit right over your panties. There’s something filthy about it, the way you are both clothed, in a public space, and still you can’t get enough of each other. You don’t even remember the cold as you start moving.
“You are such a good girl, always so ready to try new stuff with me. To be a filthy girl for me,” his words make you moan, hiding your face in his neck as he continues talking, hands massaging your covered ass. “I love how pliant and desperate you get when I touch your pretty pussy.”
He helps you move over his clothed erection, clearly only worrying about your pleasure as he murmurs filthy things into your ear, making your face feel as red as fire.
“Do you like that? Do you like to grind against me? What a filthy girl you are…” He growls at the last part and you can feel your pussy gushing. You are pretty sure there’s a wet spot in his pants by now.
“Ye- yes,” you whimper as your hips move faster, making tiny circles that rub your clit in the perfect way, searching your own pleasure, not even caring about his dick.
“Are you close? Are you going to make a mess of your panties for me?” He keeps teasing, his teeth against your neck as your breathing accelerates.
“So close,” you moan, hips going faster as he helps your movement with his big hands.
You are circling your hips when he whispers: “I think I hear the bus coming,” against your ear. You don’t analyze why, but his words only make your hips go faster, your rhythm getting erratic as you get closer and closer to release. “You are so good for me,” your boyfriend adds, a hiss at the end of the phrase…
And that does it.
You let out the loudest and most obscene moan of your life as you come undone right there, on his lap, at a bus stop.
You are pretty sure your juices are covering your thighs and the front of his pants, but he doesn’t seem to care as he helps you up and straightens your dress with the biggest grin on his scaly face.
When the bus arrives, you are still panting, readjusting your dress back to his usual place as he guides you forward onto the bus. Even though anybody really saw you, you know the three people in the night bus know what you just got up to… And it doesn’t turn you off.
Your lizardman is going through his rut and claims you, his mate, filling you with his clutch…
TW: NSFW, all characters are 18+ and consenting, breeding kink, multiple eggs deposited inside, size difference, belly bulge, creative genitalia with multiple knots, primal, lots of liquids, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, aftercare.
——————————————————
You lizard man is going through his rut.
Which is how you found yourself in this situation. And position.
On your knees, legs bent, waist arched to expose your dripping cunt. His claws dig into your thighs, spreading you wide, his scaled chest pressed against you so you can feel the heat rolling off him. His cock, thick and knotted throughout, pushes at your entrance, slick dribbling from the slit at his round tip.
“Yes… perfect mate, perfect hole,” he growls, hissing as he drags his massive girth through your plump folds. “Meant to carry my clutch, hm? You’ll take every egg… you won’t spill a thing.”
“Yes!” Your breath catches as the head pops in, stretching you obscenely. The knots pop one by one, stretching your slit, scraping inside, delicious and raw, making your body slump down on the floor.
“Yes… hnn…. fuck, you’re so big!” you moan, clawing at his scales.
His split tongue flicks against your neck as he forces his cock deeper, inch by inch. Knot by knot. “Not just big, baby. Just right. Your body was made for this. Hnnn… fuck, you squeeze so tight already.”
When he bottoms out, your pussy is wide open and your belly distends with the sheer girth of him. He stays there, grinding slow and heavy, making sure you feel every knot pulsing and caressing your walls. Then a clawed hand slips under your body, palm pressing flat against your round stomach.
“I love to feel that,” he drawls, shifting, making your mewl so the bulge shifts under his hold. “My cock… right here. Soon, you’ll feel every egg move down. You’ll beg me for more.”
Oh… you know you will. You’re past shame. He feels so good, touching deep and caressing your sensitive spots. Your cunt clenches around him at the thought, and he laughs softly, tail coiling around your wrists, pinning them before you.
“Please, I want it… want you to fill me, breed me,” you whimper, nails raking his hard tail.
That breaks him.
With a hiss, he starts moving, slamming into you, again and again, taking you in deep, claiming thrusts. The sounds are primal. Your moans, his feral growls. His shaft plunders your depths, stealing your breath. Each knot stretches you obscenely, rubs your walls raw, and each snap of his hips pushes you closer to breaking.
“Good little mate… good little breeder,” he chants between snarls. “Take my clutch. Take it deep. Stay full for me.”
Replying is meaningless. You come undone. Sob with pleasure as his cock throbs inside you, expanding fuller than before. He pulls back, slowly making you whimper at each knot, then drives back home. As deep as he can go. Reaching into your womb. You shatter again, and if not for his tail holding your wrists, you’d collapse.
But he’s not done. His breath hitches, his monster body trembling as the first hot, heavy pulse pulses into you. A swollen egg slides through his cock, pressing against your walls until it pops deep inside. You cry out, overwhelmed, and he growls against your nape, biting just hard enough to mark.
“One… mmhhn, fuck, one in you. Good girl. More coming. You’ll carry them all. My pretty breeder.”
Another pulse, another egg, your stomach tightening as it settles inside. Your body convulses, another climax ripping through you so hard you scream his name. Slick and lizard cum gush down your thighs, and he turns your head and kisses you, split tongue thrusting inside your mouth, filling it as he deposits another egg inside your hot womb.
“Yes… cum on my cock. Milk the egg out of me. Gods, you’re so beautiful and mine…. so fucking mine.”
Minutes… hours pass. You don’t know. You only know you’re getting bred and overwhelmed by multiple orgasms. He doesn’t stop until your belly is swollen, until you’re wrecked and sobbing and twitching around him. Only then does he relent, hugging you to him, keeping his cock deep, locking everything inside.
“Now… you rest. My clutch is safe. You’ll stay like this, full, marked, mine.” His tongue licks over your tears, tender now that his rut has been satisfied.
And you happily close your eyes, resting in the arms of your lizardman, growing his precious clutch inside you.
THE SLITHROTH QUEEN CHAPTER 2 (2 lizards x fem!elf!reader!2nd!POV)
Warnings: MDNI, dark monster smut, explicitly non-con, public sexual acts, double penetration (vaginal and anal), extreme size difference, knotting, belly bulging, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, captive situation, breeding kink, tail play, anal fingering, vaginal fingering, deepthroating, public humiliation, egg preg.
Summary: You wake up in the lizards' lair after passing out from the intensity of their claiming. Randrak and Sorthak have cleaned you up and kept you warm between them, but they have plans—and those plans involve taking you to the town square to officially announce you as their mate.
<----PART 1
LIZARD MASTERLIST
┈┈・ ✦ ・┈┈┈┈・ ✦ ・┈┈┈┈・ ✦ ・┈┈
Consciousness returned slowly.
Your body was warm and heavy, as if weighed down by blankets made of lead. Something hard and muscular was pressed against your back, and something equally hard and muscular was pressed against your front, and between them you were sandwiched so tightly you could barely move.
Mmph.
You tried to open your eyes. The lids felt glued shut, crusted with dried tears. When you finally managed to pry them apart, the first thing you saw was green scales.
Randrak.
He was curled around you like a protective shell, one massive arm thrown over your waist, his face tucked against your hair. His breathing was slow and even, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm that matched the heartbeat you could feel pressed against your back.
Sorthak.
They'd wrapped themselves around you, their bodies forming a cocoon of warmth and scale and muscle. A thick fur blanket had been thrown over the three of you, and beneath it you were completely naked, your skin pressed against theirs in ways that made your face burn.
They cleaned me.
You could tell. Your body felt... different. Not sore, exactly, which was strange considering what they'd done to you. There was a slickness between your legs and in your ass, something cool and soothing, and when you shifted experimentally, nothing hurt.
That was... unexpected.
"Awake already?"
Randrak's voice was rough with sleep, but there was awareness in it too, as if he'd been waiting for you to stir. His arm tightened around your waist, pulling you closer against his chest, and you felt his morning erection—because of course he had one—press against your lower back.
"What—where—" Your voice came out as a croak, raw from screaming and from Sorthak's cock in your throat. "What happened?"
"You passed out," Sorthak said from behind you, his breath warm against your neck. "Right after Randrak fingered your ass. I've never seen anyone take so much and keep going. You were... magnificent."
Magnificent. The word echoed in your head, strange and unwanted. You hadn't felt magnificent. You'd felt like a thing—a hole, a warm place for them to put their cocks, a receptacle for their seed.
But you also hadn't felt pain. Not really. There had been discomfort, yes, and fear, and a sort of overwhelmed fullness that had made it hard to think. But somewhere in the middle of all that, there had also been pleasure. Intense, bone-shaking, mind-breaking pleasure.
You hated that you remembered that part.
"Let me go," you said, pushing weakly against Randrak's chest. "I need to—to get dressed. To leave."
"Leave?" Randrak's laugh was dark. "Little mate, you're not going anywhere. You're ours now. The whole realm knows it. We made sure of that before we brought you here."
Memory crashed back—the crowd, the strangers watching, your body on display while Randrak and Sorthak used you. Gods, there had been so many people. Dozens, maybe. All of them had seen you stretched open on lizard cock, had watched you come apart, had witnessed Randrak's seed pouring out of you in rivers.
"No." The word came out as a whisper, then a sob. "No, no, no—"
"Yes." Sorthak's voice was firm but not cruel. He shifted behind you, his hand coming up to stroke your hair. "This is how it works for our kind, little mate. When we claim someone, we claim them publicly. Everyone needs to know. Everyone needs to see. That's how we build our clan—through recognition, through witness, through pride."
"Pride?" You turned your head to glare at him. "You forced me in front of strangers and you're calling it pride?"
"Forced?" Randrak's brow furrowed. "You came. Multiple times. You begged for more. I don't understand—"
"I didn't want—"
"Your body wanted," Sorthak interrupted. "Your cunt wanted. Your ass wanted. You were dripping for us before we even touched you. That's not forced, little mate. That's biology."
You wanted to argue, wanted to scream at them that consent wasn't just about what your body did, that just because you got wet didn't mean you'd agreed to any of this. But the words stuck in your throat because—because they weren't entirely wrong, were they? You had come. You had begged. There had been moments when you'd wanted it, wanted them, with a desperation that still made you cringe.
"I can't," you said instead, because that was simpler. "I can't be your mate. I have a life. A future. Things I want to do that don't involve being stuffed full of lizard cock every day."
"Things like what?" Randrak asked. "What future do you have, little elf? You're alone. No clan, no family, no one waiting for you back home. We know. We researched."
The casual admission made your blood run cold. "You researched me?"
"For three years," Sorthak confirmed. "We knew everything about you before we even approached. Your favorite foods, your sleeping habits, the way you hum when you're nervous. Everything."
"That's not romantic. That's stalking."
"It's preparation." Randrak sat up, pulling you with him so that you were cradled against his chest, your legs draped over his thighs. The movement made your holes clench around nothing, and you winced at the sensation. "We needed to be sure you were the right one. And you are. You're perfect. Our genes recognized it the moment we smelled you."
"The right one for what? To be your breeding stock?"
"Our mate." Sorthak emphasized the word, his hand moving from your hair to cup your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. "There's a difference. Breeding stock is what humans use. What orcs use. What those lesser creatures do when they want to produce offspring without connection."
He leaned closer, his forked tongue flicking out to taste your lips. "We don't want just your body, little mate. We want you. Your mind, your spirit, your stubborn refusal to give in even when you're overwhelmed. That's what will make our clan strong. That's what will make our children powerful."
Children. The word hit you like a physical blow. "I'm not—I can't—you can't just decide that I'm going to have your children—"
"We already have." Randrak's hand pressed against your lower belly, his palm flat against the soft skin. "My seed is inside you. Deep inside. If the timing is right—and we made sure it was—then you're already carrying our first clutch."
The world tilted. Your vision went fuzzy at the edges, and you had to grip Randrak's arm to keep from falling over.
"A clutch? As in eggs?"
"Slithroth reproduction is... unique." Sorthak's voice had taken on an explanatory tone, as if he were discussing the weather rather than the fact that you might be pregnant with lizard eggs. "We spurt tiny eggs that steadily grow in our mate's womb. Our seed contains genetic material that, when combined with a compatible mate's warmth and fluids, forms eggs inside the mate's body. The eggs gestate for several weeks before being laid."
"You're saying there could be eggs inside me right now?"
"We're saying there are eggs inside you right now." Randrak's hand was still on your belly, warm and possessive. "Or there will be, once the process completes. It takes about a day for the eggs to fully accept the womb. You'll feel them soon."
A day. You had less than a day before you started growing lizard eggs inside your body.
"You have to get them out," you said, your voice rising toward hysteria. "You have to—there must be a way to—"
"There's no way." Sorthak's expression was sympathetic, which somehow made it worse. "Once the seed is inside, the process begins. Nothing can stop it. And honestly, little mate... why would you want to? These are our children. The beginning of a new clan."
"I don't want children!"
"Your body does." Randrak's thumb traced circles on your belly. "We can feel it, you know. The way your womb is already responding. The way your temperature has risen. You're made for this, little elf. Made for us."
Tears spilled down your cheeks—hot, angry, helpless tears. You hated them. You hated them for doing this to you, for taking away your choice, for making your body betray you. And you hated yourself for the part of you that was already imagining what those eggs would feel like, growing inside you.
Gods, what was wrong with you?
"We should prepare her for the square," Sorthak said, and there was something eager in his voice now. "The townspeople will want to see. They've been waiting."
"The square?" You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. "What square?"
"The town square." Randrak said it like it was obvious. "We have to present you officially. Show everyone that we've found our mate, that the Slithroth clan will continue. It's tradition."
"No." You shook your head, pulling away from him. "Absolutely not. You already paraded me in front of a crowd yesterday. I'm not doing it again."
"That wasn't a parade." Sorthak's lips curved in a smile that showed too many teeth. "That was just... enthusiasm. The square will be different. More formal. More public."
"There's no way I'm letting you fuck me in the town square in front of more people—"
"Letting us?" Randrak raised an eyebrow. "Little mate, you don't have a choice. This is happening. The only question is whether you'll behave like a proper mate or whether we'll have to... encourage you."
"Fuck you," you spat.
"You will," Sorthak agreed. "Frequently. And with enthusiasm, once you stop fighting it." He stood, his massive form unfolding from the bed, and you saw that he was already hard—that impossible length, those prominent knots, all of it aimed at you with clear intent. "But first, preparation. We need to make sure your holes are ready for the square. Can't have you too tight, after all. You need to gape properly."
Gape. The word made your stomach clench with something that wasn't entirely fear.
"Lie back," Randrak commanded, gently pushing you down onto the furs. "Spread your legs. Let us see what we're working with."
You wanted to resist. You wanted to. But your body was already moving, already obeying, already spreading your thighs to expose your pussy and your ass to their hungry gazes.
Traitor.
"Beautiful," Sorthak breathed, kneeling between your legs. "Look at this, brother. Look how well she's healing."
His fingers spread your outer lips apart, exposing the tender flesh beneath. Your pussy was still slightly swollen from yesterday's abuse, and the entrance was loose, relaxed, already beginning to gape the way they'd promised.
"The seed's slick is working," Randrak observed from beside you. His hand found your breast, cupping the soft weight, his thumb brushing over the nipple. "Her holes are staying open. That's good. That will make things easier."
"Easier for what?"
"For this." Sorthak lowered his head between your legs, and his tongue—that long, forked tongue—slid inside your pussy, licking out Randrak's remaining seed and your own juices. The sensation made you arch off the bed, a moan tearing from your throat.
Slurp. Schlick. Glorp.
He ate you out hungrily, tongue delving deep, curling and twisting and tasting. His nose pressed against your clit, rubbing in circles, and you could feel yourself getting wetter, more open, more ready.
"Don't stop," you heard yourself beg. "Please, don't stop—"
Randrak's fingers found your asshole, circling the loosened rim. "This one needs attention too," he said. "Can't go to the square without this hole prepared."
His finger pushed inside—just one, slick with your juices and you moaned . The sensation of being filled from both ends again, even just by fingers and tongue, made your head spin.
"More," you gasped. "I need more—"
"You need to be patient," Randrak chided, adding a second finger to your ass. "We have all day to stretch you. All day to get you ready. By the time we're done, you'll be able to take both of us at once."
Both of them. At once. The thought should have terrified you. Instead, it made your pussy clench around Sorthak's tongue.
"I hate you," you moaned. "I hate both of you—"
"No, you don't." Sorthak pulled back from your cunt, his chin glistening with your arousal. "You're already falling in love with us, little mate. You just don't know it yet."
He proved it by sliding two fingers inside your pussy while his tongue moved to your clit, licking and sucking and torturing the sensitive nub until you were screaming, until you were coming, until your vision went white and your body shook with the force of your release.
While you were still trembling, Randrak's fingers slipped out of your ass and something else pressed against the opening. Something bigger. Something textured.
His tail.
"Wait—" You tried to push up, to see what he was doing, but Sorthak's weight held you down. "That's not—you can't put your tail in there—"
"Can't I?" The tip of Randrak's tail pushed inside your ass, and gods, it was thick, thicker than his fingers, covered in fine scales that caught on your inner walls with every movement. "Our tails are prehensile, little mate. We can do anything with them."
He pushed deeper, and again, you felt your belly bulge from the intrusion. The tail was longer than his cock, more flexible, and it curled inside you like a living thing, pressing against your inner walls from angles you hadn't known existed.
"Look at that," Sorthak marveled, his fingers still working your pussy. "You can see it moving inside her. Through her skin."
You looked down at your belly, and he was right. There was a distinct bulge there, shifting and undulating as Randrak's tail pushed deeper into your ass. The sight was obscene, impossible, and it made you clench around both intrusions with desperate need.
"Please," you sobbed. "Please, I can't—I can't take anymore—"
"Yes, you can." Randrak's voice was strained, his hips thrusting slightly as he worked his tail in and out of your ass. "You're going to take all of it, little elf. Every inch. And then you're going to take Sorthak's tail in your pussy, and you're going to come again, and then we're going to carry you to the square and show everyone what a perfect mate we've found."
True to his word, Randrak's tail kept pushing deeper—and deeper, and deeper—until you could feel it in your guts, rearranging your organs the way his cock had yesterday. The sensation was overwhelming, pain and pleasure mixed so thoroughly you couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.
"Now yours," Randrak said to Sorthak. "Both tails at once. Let's see how she handles that."
Sorthak's tail, midnight blue and scaled like the rest of him, pressed against your pussy entrance. You were already stuffed full of Randrak's tail in your ass, already stretched to your limit, and there was no way—
SQUELCH.
His tail slipped inside your pussy, and you sobbed.
The sensation was indescribable—two thick, moving appendages inside your body at once, twisting and curling and pushing against each other through the thin membrane that separated your holes. You could feel everything, every scale, every movement, every time their tails rubbed together inside you.
"Squeeze," Randrak commanded, and his tail curled, pressing against your inner walls. "Feel that, little mate? That's what it will be like when we fill you together. When both our cocks are inside you, rubbing against each other through your flesh."
Gnh— You couldn't speak, couldn't think, couldn't do anything except feel as their tails fucked you in tandem. In and out, in and out, faster and faster until you were nothing but a vessel for their pleasure, a hole to be filled.
SLAM. SQUELCH. GLORK.
"That's it," Sorthak groaned, thrusting to push his tail deeper. "That's our good little mate. Taking both tails like she was made for it."
You came again—or maybe you'd never stopped coming. Time had lost all meaning, reduced to a series of sensations: fullness, pressure, the drag of scales against your inner walls, the obscene sounds of your body being used.
When they finally pulled out—tails sliding free with wet, sucking sounds—you lay there panting, completely wrecked, your holes gaping open and leaking fluid onto the furs.
"Perfect," Randrak said, wonder in his voice. "Absolutely perfect. Look at her, brother. Look at what we've made."
Sorthak's fingers traced the rim of your asshole, still stretched wide, still quivering. "She's ready. Ready for the square. Ready for the world to see."
"No," you whispered, but it was weak, defeated, and they both ignored you.
Randrak scooped you up in his arms, cradling you against his chest, while Sorthak gathered something—clothes, maybe, or supplies. You couldn't focus on anything except the way your body throbbed, the way your holes clenched around nothing, the way your belly felt full despite being empty.
"Time to go, little mate," Randrak said, carrying you toward the entrance of the lair. "Time to show everyone who you belong to."
The sunlight hit your face, warm and bright, and you closed your eyes against it.
You didn't want to see what came next.
Chapter 3 next: the town square, a VERY public claiming, and some very enthusiastic onlookers...
You are offered choices : you can choose either to be the subject of this ordeal or choose any subject you desire to be the participant in this fantasy experiment. The experiment consists of a series of savage and brutal multiple penetrations with a warning that each successive one will increase in length and girth for an indeterminate length of time. Two options are offered in this experiment to make it possible. The first A) allows the subject unlimited elasticity and copious self lubrication to accommodate the ordeal with the drawbacks that while incredibly pleasurable orgasm itself takes longer and the body itself will take at least a day to recover to its original state leaving the subject in an open stretched and gaping state during that interim.The second option B) allows for almost instantaneous healing and regeneration for any damage sustained during the experiment with quick endless successive orgasm one after the other due to pain and pleasure nerves being intertwined by the second option. The drawback to this option being a complete loss of any physical sensations for 48 hours afterwards as the body is reset to its original state.
lizardman!Rask x human!Reader
Good to know: nothing but smut
A/N: My answer is A) and Part 1 is here.
_
"Waitwaitwait!" Your voice is breathless and barely coherent as it tangles with the guttural noises coming from Rask's clone. "Wait!" You try again but you know your pleas are lost on him. He is like a predator on a mission, whether for pleasure, conquest, or something more primal, you are no longer sure.
You are trapped in the middle of the bed, your fingers clawing at the tangled sheets beneath you for dear life. Your legs, stretched and trembling, are thrown over his shoulders, leaving you folded tightly into a mating press. Every inch of your body feels exposed, laid bare under his mercy. Or under the lack of his mercy. The position he has you locked in feels like a cage made of his body. You tremble under his heat, sticky and slick with sweat. Each brush of his scales against your skin is electrifying. His breath washes over the crook of your neck. The sharp edge of his teeth graze over your pulse as if he is considering tasting you in more ways than one.
"Rask," you try again, but you are not sure if you are begging for him to slow down or to push you even further over the edge. Every inch of him overwhelms you. The drag of his scaled torso against you makes your back arch, punching a moan from your lips that’s halfway between protest and surrender. Your body feels like it’s running on pure adrenaline now, hypersensitive and wrung out.
You’ve lost track of time. It could’ve been minutes or hours since Rask first pushed you down onto the bed, pressing you into the mattress and the sheets. A slight turn of your head brings the faint glow of the city into view, framed by the window. The dark sky is illuminated by the neon lights of the streets below.
Your chest rises and falls in uneven gasps, exhaustion pulling at your every muscle. Tears streak your flushed cheeks, their salty tang lingering faintly on your tongue. Each snap of Rask's lean hips drives a jolt through your body, the sharp mix of pleasure and pain keeping you frozen and arched.
"Jus' one more time," the clone growls. The rumble of his voice vibrates through your very bones. He braces himself on his arms, his muscles shifting, giving himself more freedom to move. The bed creaks under his relentless thrusts, increasing the wet, lewd sound of his cock in your drenched heat.
But you know better. It’s never “just one more time” with him. Cloning is a gamble where the outcome is unpredictable, bringing something new, a difference in personality or temperament that makes him a creature all his own. And for reasons you can’t fully understand, Rask's clone knows about your attraction to the lizardman, about the unspoken fantasies you've kept hidden deep within yourself. He exploits it mercilessly, fulfilling every thought and suppressed yearning you've ever had. And then there’s the other thing; for some other unknown reason, he has a stamina you've never imagined. Hours stretch on like a fever dream, your body wrung out and oversensitive to the point of tears, yet he doesn’t falter, doesn’t waver. He chases pleasure until it turns to pain, and even then he doesn't stop.
The burning coil in your lower belly tightens in a way that makes your muscles seize, and your breath catch. Your legs twitch uselessly, where they rest on his broad shoulders, you try to push him away, palms pressing weakly against his chest, but the attempt only fuels him. Your efforts only make things worse, or better, depending on how you look at it. All you accomplish is a frantic sway of your hips, meeting him halfway in a rhythm you can’t seem to control. He slides in and out of you with ease, the mess between your thighs making every movement slick and sinful.
"Look at you," he snarls. "All this fuss, all this fight, and you are still pulling me in." He punctuates his words with a sharp thrust, forcing a choked gasp from your lips.
His claws dig into the sheets on either side of your head, shredding fabric as he cages you in completely. The slits of his pupils are wide and wild with unrestrained hunger, and his sharp teeth are bared in a wicked grin. "Messy little thing."
"I-I can't-" you groan. Your voice is nothing more but a whine and it reaches something in the clone because his demeanor changes within a second. "Rask-"
His pace falters, his hips stuttering before snapping back into their relentless rhythm. His claws flex against the shredded sheets, his scaled arms trembling as he braces himself above you.
His breath hitches, and you hear a low, almost pleading whimper escape his throat, a sound so unexpected it sends a shiver racing through you. "So fucking close-" His words trail off into a growl of frustration. His amber eyes are wild and glowing with a mix of lust and anguish as his thrusts grow erratic as if sheer determination will push him over the edge he’s been chasing for hours.
"Please… just let me keep going. I need it. Don’t make me stop. Can’t stop." His hips grind against you, rolling and pushing in an agonizing rhythm.
You can feel the tremor in his muscles, the exhaustion radiating off him, but he refuses to give in. He is lost in the chase, and the only thing you can do is wheeze and cry in his tight embrace. Your pussy clenches and gushes around him without your control. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as his hips buck against yours. Every movement is frantic now, each thrust driven by the maddening edge of pleasure that refuses to tip him over. His body trembles violently, muscles straining as he chases a release that feels just out of reach.
"Come on," he growls like a broken whisper against your skin. "Come on, just this once. Let me have it." His words are a tangle of desperation and adoration, spilling from his lips in a stream of incoherent pleas. "So tight, so fucking wet- I can’t- I can’t stop. You feel too good. Too fucking good."
His hips stutter, his rhythm faltering for a heartbeat before redoubling in a frantic, almost punishing pace. Each thrust feels more unhinged than the last, his body trembling with exhaustion and need, and the sheer intensity of his movements has your mind spinning.
"Come on," you manage to gasp. You know he’s reaching his limit, but if he keeps going like this, you’ll both lose yourselves to the madness of it. Summoning what little strength you have left, your hands snap up to his shoulders, your nails digging into his scales. "Cum for me," you beg. "Let go."
The sound that leaves his lips is almost a whimper. His long face buries deeper into the crook of your neck, his breath hot and erratic against your skin. You shiver as his tongue darts out, lapping over the salty dampness of your neck before lingering over the thrumming pulse under your skin.
His legs dig into the bed with renewed determination. The motion drives your body into the mattress, folding you even tighter into the mating press. The angle shifts abruptly, and a sharp cry rips from your throat as he thrusts deeper than before, his movements fueled by pure desperation. His hips snap into you with reckless abandon, the wet, obscene sounds of your bodies filling the air alongside your cries and his ragged groans.
"Fuck," he growls.
Each thrust pushes you closer to the brink, and yet all you can do is cling to him, your hands fisting against his shoulders as his pace grows impossibly faster. He’s entirely lost to the chase now, his movements wild and chaotic, his breath coming in broken gasps as he continues to push himself far beyond his limits.
You are certain he doesn’t even notice when you fall apart beneath him, your body trembling violently as waves of pleasure crash over you. The overwhelming sensation pulls a broken cry from your lips, but it’s swallowed by the sheer force of him. At the same moment, a guttural, feral growl tears from his throat, vibrating through your entire body as he finally swells inside you. His release floods you in hot, unrelenting waves. The heat of it spreads through you, overwhelming and consuming, until your vision blurs and your eyes roll back into your skull. Your voice falters, fading into incoherent whimpers and soft, shuddering gasps. The only sound left is the slick, clenching noises of your joined bodies as his hips jerk against yours in erratic, desperate thrusts.
He stays buried inside you, trembling with the aftershocks of his long-denied release, his breath coming in ragged, uneven pants. His claws, which had shredded the sheets, now grip the bed as though anchoring himself, his chest heaving with each shallow gasp. His long face remains tucked against your neck, his hot breath brushing over your damp skin.
“Finally,” he murmurs.
You almost laugh, you would surely laugh if you could do anything besides laying beneath him, breathless and boneless.
Pls,,,, PLS,,, any non-human looking scalie/lizard or skull head monster PLS—anonymous
—tw / tags: implied kidnapping, implied human eating, general yandere theme
—featured character(s): lizardman / lizard creature
You rarely knew a good night’s sleep. And, unfortunately, for good reasons.
There are unholy creatures out in these wooded land, known to feed upon the mankind. They never discriminate, gladly feeding on the weak, the pregnant, and even newborns and would boldly fight the brave fools and the well-armed men. Known for sneaking past the night guards, they would pluck their meals from the safety of their beds and leave behind nothing but the wailings from the stolen victim’s loved ones.
Nowhere is safe.
Like many, you sleep with one eye open and a knife under your threadbare pillow.
You are but a mere villager, plucky and young whose hands calloused from hard works and tireless determination to support your tiny family. Born poor and grew up poor, you are no one special. Skin darkened and leathered from sun, your body spotted with scars from countless petty accidents and scrapes from your farm works, and clothes weathered from countless wears and tears, you are not considered…an eye-catcher, by most.
There are no reason for any monster to target you. You are not small. You are not desirable. You are uninteresting, as a meal. Too chewy, this you are sure of.
And yet here you are, huddling to one corner of your bedroom in a futile attempt to hide yourself in the darkness. The strange leer in the beast’s serpentine eyes has your skin trembling, your nose burning from the trapped breath in your throat, and your fingernails dragging roughly in the ragged wooden floor. Splinters digs deep under the bed of your brittle nails and cut into your skin.
The way they gaze upon you…
White needle-like teeth glints at you from their widening smile, they see you through the shadowed cloak, “Pathetic,” their snarling chuckle erupts a tiny whimper from you. You couldn’t make yourself any louder than a mouse with your heart in the fear’s chokehold when the scaled creature steps closer. Their long tail whipping and slashing through the bitterly cold air, they hisses, “do you truly believe…” you tenses at how silently they trekked across the creaky ground—and how they reaches out to slit your throat.
Wickedly curved talons bites into your sun-worn cheeks, they grips your chin and forces you to meet their glittery gaze, “you could hide yourself from me, my pretty little mate?”
—note: hope you enjoyed this piece <3 and ty for reading!
Could you perhaps do a short writing about a lizardman? Sorry if you need more details, I just wanted to throw the idea out there!
Eggs for Dinner
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Pairing: Briskar (Lizardfolk) x Gender Neutral Reader
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“Not much further, my love.” Briskar’s black tongue flicked at the air, his smooth head raised to the sky to scent at the breeze that blew over the two of you. His head was like a monitor, his snout long and his eyes wide, bright and intelligent as he regarded the woodlands around the two of you. Briskar was a soft grey colour with black lines running over the back of his head and down his back to the tip of his whip like tail. His muscly tail was coiled around the rock as he held out his clawed hand for you to take, his neck rippling as his tongue continued to taste at the air. Thankfully, he wasn’t dripping venom with the idea of food yet. It was always a pain to clean up.
You took his hand and Briskar tugged you up to stand along side him on the rocky face of the cliff, “How far away are we now?” You huffed as Briskar’s claws dug deep as he steadied you both on the rock when a particularly strong gust brushed over you both.
“They’re on the ledge above.” He hissed with a delighted noise, “Are you sure you will be able to catch them?” Briskar’s claws tucked your scarf tighter around your neck, “They are quite large. They are Giant Rock Birds after all.”
“I’ll be able to catch them, I promise.” You chuckled as you took the rope from your bag and tied it around your waist and then to the rock which Briskar’s tail was wrapped around.
The leather bag was filled with rope and you stood firmly as you snatched Briskar’s tail and waist, tying some coils around it before attaching him to the rock as well. Your Lizardfolk boyfriend licked at your cheek before he bared his claws and turned to scramble up the final part of the cliff face. You watched from the bottom with the thick leather sheet clutched between your arms, held out ready to catch the treats Briskar wanted so badly. He reached the top and you shook your head as Briskar’s tail coiled and snapped happily, his clawed hands reaching for the first large egg. He held it between his hands and hissed happily.
“Are you ready?” He asked.
“As ready as I’ll ever be!” You shouted back as you readied the tarp.
“Here it comes, sweet thing.” Briskar chittered before he dropped it over the edge, flinching as it plummeted towards you. With a huff, you caught the egg in your leather tarp and grinned as you wrapped it in a skin and tucked it into the net bag you had to carry between you both down the mountain. Briskar’s tail snapped against the stone before he started to drop the others, one at a time, into your grasp.
“That is the last!” He called as his muscled body span around and he crawled back down the stone, his tail curling over boulders that bulged out of the rockface, keeping him safe. His mouth was now dripping with venom, and you stepped back as a string of it dripped onto the floor by your feet.
“Hey, come on, stop drooling on your food!” You called as he hissed and chuckled again, descending the cliff. It was then that a great howl sounded from the sky, and you both fearfully looked to the sky as the Rock Bird circled, talons exposed, before the mother dived towards Briskar.
“Drop Briskar!” You cried as the bird launched herself at him. Her talons smashed against the stone, but Briskar’s neck went black in defence as he flipped and hissed, exposing pointed teeth, the bacteria ladened saliva dripping over his neck as he hopped and bit at her ankles. The bird screeched and swooped away.
“Quickly, love!” He hollered as he jumped down the stone and untied you both, grabbing the eggs as the mother dove you both again, “I WILL NOT LET HER HAVE OUR DINNER!”
“JUST GIVE HER THE EGGS BACK BRISKAR!” You cried as the bird screamed over you both again.
Is it okay to request hcs of Lizardman/Luchino with a lizard/reptile loving s/o?
It sure is!
There’s a bit of a connection already in how you love lizards and reptiles- something that was once his study and now what he had practically turned into.
In a sense, your talks about the species helps him reconnect with his more human side and helps him recall previous days.
They also help him understand himself a bit better, as putting things into spoken words helps big time.
Luchino is a bit more comfortable around you when made aware of your fascination of the species- knowing you’re not repulsed by his reptilian appearance.
As long as you don’t see him as a mere pet, he’s rather at ease when around you.
You can write something about a humanoid lizard!m × reader!Fairies who hate each other and constantly arrange fights, and then fuck hard (。・ω・。)
Drenched
Lizardman x fairy fem!reader || hate sex, size kink
You don’t know what it is about that particular lizardman, but you can’t seem to stay away from him. You’re so tiny compared to him, but every time he appears around your area, you can’t avoid goading him into a fight, pushing his buttons until he’s snapping back. You love to fly around his body until he’s mad and breathing hard and completely and utterly aroused, his smell perfuming the air around you like the most delicious pollen. That only drives you wilder, flaying faster, pinching him, throwing him things until he’s fuming and he’s running around you like a moth to a flame. Your screeches of joy only make him madder, and by the time he catches you, you’re so wet and ready to be used and abused that you can’t stand it.
That’s why you always end up being caught. You wouldn’t go as far as to say you let him win, but… When his hand is around your body, squeezing until you can feel your heartbeat in your ears, and it feels like a whole bodily embrace around you… You might be moaning and whimpering already. Those sounds only makes him more feral, his big tongue lolling out of his mouth as he rips your clothes off and licks over your whole body, parting your legs with his fingers as he holds you close and eats you out. You can feel his teeth against the inside of your thighs and it only makes it hotter as you come around his big tongue, way too big for your tiny body.
When he pulls down his fly and wraps his hand and your body around his scaled dick, you can’t do anything but hold on for dear life as you tickle his slit with your whole hand, sending him into a cursing-frenzy over your head as you laugh. He hates that, he hates how good your body feels around his dick as he uses you as a fleshlight, but good goddess if it doesn’t make it hotter.
He comes all over you every time, leaving you completely drenched from head to toe in his release. He always frowns after, but that doesn’t stop him from smelling you and letting out a little smirk that makes your pussy clench around nothing. He always leaves you there, over whatever flat surface he finds, usually a tree, completely showered in his come and smelling so much of him you can’t take it off even after showering multiple times… And you kind of love it.
