✦ content: nsfw, monsterfucking, mutual masturbation, public sex (barely), fingering
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You really didn’t want to come to the pub with your co-workers on a Friday night, but your supervisor celebrated the birth of his fourth child. A son. Finally. Wow, great job, Dad. You fucked her the right way and got an heir. Such an accomplishment.
In any case, you refused to attend when his previous child was born, and you knew it would be considered rude and a poor attitude toward ‘collaborative atmosphere’ if you avoided it this time too.
You socialised minimally and scrolled on your phone while sipping your wine and smiling politely. At least the band was excellent so you could enjoy some nice soul music.
Your office bestie left you some time ago to dance, so you were left alone.
While watching a deep dive into Resident Evil lore, wanting to learn more about this Leon your friend always drools about, you feel a presence right next to you. A big and… dense one.
“You like horror games?” Your coworker's voice always gives you goosebumps. Must be because it reminded you of gravel and deep caves. You have similar job positions, but you work in different departments. You and Mateo interacted a few times, only regarding business, either in person or via chat, but the handsome gargoyle quickly became your innocent office crush. Well, not so innocent. He is witty, sarcastic, and polite. Not to mention insanely handsome. “Or twinks?”
“Twinks?” You’ve never spoken about any other topic other than work. It takes you a second to process his question. “Oh, no. No, but my friend does.”
He chuckles. “Yeah?”
“I like someone like older Leon.” You swipe downward to show him the more aged and significantly more jacked Leon Kennedy. Quite a similar build to gargoyle’s.
“Poor shirt.”
You both laugh and continue chatting about your interests and hobbies. You are interrupted a few times by your coworkers joining you to refreshen or say goodbye, but you are mostly left alone. And very soon things heat up.
You and Mateo have always flirted, somehow and somewhere. Even your Excel files had some 69 jokes. But never once did you speak for more than two sentences. Until now. And the chemistry was extremely potent tonight. The time was flying by - or so it seemed. But somewhere, in the back of your mind, there was some information you learned a while ago about gargoyles. Something about time slowing down for them and being unseen in broad daylight. Hm, can’t really remember right now, because your handsome gargoyle co-worker just took your hand and started paying with your palm.
“Wish I could read your palm,” he said, but he was almost staring at you.
“Why is that?”
“I’m sure wonderful future is waiting for you. I would like to see it.”
You giggle. “That’s kinda corny and sweet.”
“What can I say, I’m fairly old-fashioned.”
“Makes sense for a gargoyle to be old-fashioned.”
“Do you mind if I do another old-fashioned thing?” A mischief shines in his dark eyes.
“Not at all.”
He lifts your hand to his lips and kisses your palm. You’ve never been kissed like that. Such an interesting sensation. It is very intimate, and yet very innocent. Everything is collected into that peck in the middle of your palm. Well, not everything. Some of it went into your cunt.
“Oh…” Your breath is hot, your mind swimming from lust. You want to suggest that you leave this place together and go to your apartment. But you don't want to break this connection and explain to everyone why you (and he) are leaving at the same time. It’s too inconvenient. “Oh, fuck.” You whisper.
“Yes, we can’t leave just yet,” Mateo tells you as if he read your thoughts. “But we can do something else.”
You watch him as he wipes his hands with an antibacterial wipe. While facing forward, looking as inconspicuous as any gargoyle can, his hand glides along your thigh. His palm is cold, and you wince from surprise.
“Sorry. It’s from wipes.” He then blows into his fingers to warm them up, before kissing them lightly and pushing his tongue between them to moisten them up. This action absolutely boils your blood.
As he caresses your skin, exploring your inner thighs, you move your hand to his bulge. His jeans are too tight for him to feel much. “Unbutton,” you tell him. Your lower parts are hidden by the table, and nobody can actually see what you’re doing unless they sit right next to you or they kneel under the table.
You both find the way to patiently wriggle your fingers into each other's underwear. While you can’t do much but play with his moist glans, his cock coiled and trapped inside his jeans, Mateo can easily reach your clit. Even though you would love to feel his pulsating cock inside your pussy, you enjoy his skillful fingers playing with your clit. You’re both pretending to just enjoy your drinks and music, all while trying not to pant like dogs.
You are getting sweaty, your heart pounding in your throat. Your clit is swollen, red, and almost painful from need. You stop stroking Mateao. “Please, harder…”
“Are you sure? Can you be quiet?”
“Just do it,” you moan desperately. Mateo listens to you, and his thumb flicks your clit in just the right rhythm. You squeeze your thighs together, trapping his arm, and your orgasm overtakes your body. You quickly place your head against the table, pretending to rest it a bit, all while biting your lip, trying not to scream from the flashing pleasure.
Mateo comfortingly caresses your knee. “Are you okay?”
It takes you a while to respond. “Y-yeah…”
He draws near your ear. "Let's get out of here. I'm desperate to fuck you. I've been since the moment I first saw you."
"You did tell me a wonderful future awaits me," you retort. "And if your hand skill is any indicator of what the rest of you can do, well... We will have an interesting weekend ahead of us."
OC Kiss Week 26 by @/ockissweek (won't tag them any longer because I'm super late lol)
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[ m!orc x fem!reader ]
✦ content: nsfw, monsterfucking, masturbation, voyeurism, oral (female recieving), continued from this
✦ tw: stepcest, drunk sex
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Your youngest step-sister, Osra, was celebrating her eighteenth birthday.
Even though significantly older, as a 'cool older sibling', you were allowed to join the house party. When you asked her why Kušan was invited too in that case, Osra burst into laughter. Kušan responded to your jab with a grunt and kept removing all the fragile items from the living room quietly. You felt bad for a second - after all, Kušan behaved rather well since you reprimanded him.
In any case, you werent't about to miss free drinks and a cake. You decided to stay a few days longer before going back to your apartment. You're gonna miss this new big orc family of yours. Maybe even all of them, you chuckle.
Parents are away, enjoying their hotel retreat until tomorrow morning. The party is okay, full of teenagers and music that barely interests you. The alcohol, on the other hand, is abundant, and you get a chance to taste some drinks you wanted for years. It also helps you enjoy the music a lot more. You find your corner and dance with Drena, your other step-sister, holding a glass of... something. And you are getting quite tipsy.
So tipsy you are starting to find Kušan attractive. You look at him, as he leans against the wall, watching over the rowdy teenagers. There is such a huge stick up this orc's ass, you think to yourself. He warned the kids (even though he was only 4-5 years older than them) once or twice not to jump onto furniture with a stern voice, his eyes squinted, and his teeth bared. Those teeth and tusks... They are kinda...
No, no, no, what the fuck. You turn your back to him, take another sip, and continue dancing. The buzz is buzzing through your blood, and you are starting to have fun. You love dancing, and this music is suddenly getting better and better. It envelops you and you let your body do what it likes.
A slow song gives you a chance to take a breather. You look for a familiar grumpy figure. He is in the same spot, standing against the wall, looking at you. You flinch. Why is he looking at you like that? He doesn't like your dancing? Well, screw him! You flip him off, and continue swaying and diving into the notes, completely lost in your own world.
Until nature pulls you back from the fuzzy bliss. You have to use the bathroom. The downstairs toilet is crowded with teenagers waiting for their turn so you go upstairs (that one is off limits for non-family members). Kušan isn't in his lookout place anymore. Not that you care.
The upstairs hallway is quiet and empty. You rush toward the bathroom, but you have to slow down and breathe deeply as the tipsiness is getting a more nauseating edge. You burp once, feeling slightly better, and then you hear it. The heavy, raspy breathing.
You realize that those familiar grunts are coming through the slihgtly ajar bathroom door. Drunk curiousity takes over you and you peek.
It is indeed Kušan and he is standing next to the toilet, leaning over it while propping himself against the tiled wall. His jeans are around his ankles, and his underwear barely covers his ass. He isn't pissing. The jerking movements of his arm and his shaking, panting, suggest something rather inappropriate. And you can't stop watching.
He is hot. There is no denying it. Not anymore. You are drunk, but lucid and very horny. And your inhibitions never were high.
Kušan is so lost in his world, jerking himself off, that he doesn't notice anything. You keep standing, peeking through the door, pushing it slightly with your shoulder so that you could see his figure better. Your fingers slide down your stomach, and your palm nests firmly against your cunt. Fuck.
Kušan abruptly stops and takes a big sniff. Oh, fuck!
But before you manage to hide, he turns around and sees you. You are too tipsy to move fast enough, and the huge orc opens the door wide, and is now towering you. He is not even trying to push his boner inside his pants. You nervously chuckle, looking at his shocked expression. "Need a hand with that, kiddo? I mean, other than yours."
He doesn't laugh. Instead, he pulls you inside the bathroom and pushes you against the door, slamming it. Without a word, he kisses you. You're both hot, reeking of alcohol and sweat. Your head spins violently, but his lips stay in one place, right there on yours, a focus of your entire being. Well fuck.
He is so big, so strong, so overwhelming. But he responds once you push him away. "This is fucked up," you inform him.
He nods, staring at your lips as a starving beast. He kisses you again, sucking your tongue into his mouth, trapping your face between his tusks. Your hand finds his raging green boner, and he moans. "S-shit..." He whispers once you start jerking him off. The size of his dick makes your mouth water.
His breath hitches. "Stop. I don't want to..."
You forgot he's a virgin. Yes, of course. You should stop. You shouldn't ruin this for him. "I'm sorry, Kušan."
But he doesn't let you move away. He kisses you again, his lips trailing down your jaw. He growls, "Say my name again."
You are dizzy, your limbs as soft as jello. "Kušan..."
He growls louder this time. "Again, please..."
"K-Kušan..." It's hard to talk as he removes your bottom clothes and pulls your panties down. But you repeat his name since that's the only word that exists in your mind. "Kušan... Kušan..."
His thick finger massages your wet mound. Your arousal is smeared all over your pubic hair, and they glisten. The orc looks mesmerized, his mouth slightly open, breath heavy. "Can I... can I..."
Unable to form any coherent sound, you simply pull his head toward your hungry cunt and let him do whatever he wants. Drunk, your mind is fuzzy and overtaken by lust. You rub against his face, moaning his name as he sloppily eats you out, never diving out to breathe. The heat swells where his tongue toys with your clit, and you can only mindlessly chase your pleasure. And you reach it, breaking, almost falling down; but, luckily, Kušan is there to hold you. Finally, you see him emerge between your legs, his face flushed and soaked, but smiling blissfully. He doesn't look smug at all. He's happy like a puppy.
A knock. "Are you okay? You disappeared a while ago. Have you seen Kušan? Someone wants to open more wine and they seem pretty drunk. Nobody can calm them down. We need help."
✦ content: mild nsft, monsterfucking, angst
✦ tw: cheating (is it cheating if it’s an arranged marriage though?), age gap, godfather-goddaughter relationship, forbidden romance
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Of course, you have to marry a prince. You have to. It was meant to be like that, since you were a young girl. Arranged marriage, they call it. The one good thing was that you knew the prince, and rather well. You’ve been friends, enemies, lovers, friends again. But you never wanted to marry him. It was not the worst arrangement for a noble woman, but still… You didn’t love him, not even a little bit.
You love Vid. He is older, so much older than you. Not to mention that he is your kum. Godfather. You’ve known him since you were a child. You haven't seen him often, unfortunately, but every time he visited, you were mesmerized by him. Vid is so tall, so strong. His horns touch the top of the wall; his hair is long, silky, and blue. A rain dragon’s son - a zmajevit. Such a rarity! He is so beautiful and gentle! All you ever wanted was to be near him. Your heart poured and ached for him.
You approached him once, once you gathered enough courage. He refused you, of course. He never wanted to offend any gods or anger your father. So he refused you, firmly, but not without wetness in his green eye.
But as you get ready for your wedding, bathing one last time as an unwed woman, you make a decision. You leave your bathtub and robe yourself loosely. You are of noble blood, but not as noble as to be constantly watched over or questioned. It is nighttime, and your feet are swift. You quickly find his door, your heart fluttering like a sparrow’s as you lean against the wood. Should you knock? Or should you enter uninvited? You raise your trembling hand and lightly knock. After long and torturous seconds, he opens the door.
“You!” The candle in his hand almost falls to the ground. He is shirtless, probably ready to go to bed, and his gray skin is glistening from bath water. He is smelling of petrichor, like always. “What are you doing—”
You interrupt him by ducking under his arm and entering his room. “Close the door!” You order.
He obeys, reluctantly, and refuses to look at you. “What are you doing? You shouldn't be here.”
“I don't care,” your reply is instant. “I still have my free will. One more night.” You let your robe fall onto the floor. Vid takes a peek and violently blushes in blue shades, as if he weren’t almost 100 years old.
“Don't do that… please,” he utters a soft plea through his teeth. "You are my kumče (godchild). You are getting married tomorrow." He looks through the window and the moon sparkles . “Today. Today is your wedding day."
You run toward him and hug him around his waist. He flinches, his breath getting caught in his throat. “Stop…”
“Until dawn,” you whisper. “I want to have you until the sun rises.”
He places his large hand on top of your shoulder and, just as you assume he will push you away, he falls to his knees and kisses you. Your arms wrap around his neck as you pull him closer, almost fainting from happiness to finally kiss him. To finally taste him. His golden talons are cold against your skin as he holds you firmly. He is whispering something while lightly biting your neck and chest, but your head is too light to comprehend the words. He lifts you and places you on his bed.
“Are you sure?” he asks. “This is not right… Not right…” But he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t stop burning his kisses into your skin, biting you, licking your lips and nipples, and finding your tender core with his tongue.
As he toys with you, as he kneads your breasts, as he showers you with pleasure and you pant from delight, you can only think how right this all is. How perfect it is. And how much you’re not making the biggest mistake of your life.
✦ content: nsft, monsterfucking, degradation, nipple play, orgasm denial, some dom/sub, p in v, squirting, belly bulge, creampie, overstimulation
✦ tw: toxic relationship
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Asja never wanted a demon to make a home in her eye. Or did she? She couldn't really remember that day when it happened. So far, he had been more than useful; he was strong, clever, and had powers she couldn’t even comprehend. He was more than keen on keeping his human vessel alive, too. But sometimes, he was a bit of a nuisance.
Even though he couldn't walk away far from Asja, or even exist without her, he could take any form he liked or stay invisible. He could only be heard or perceived by Asja, which would get him lonely and bored if she did not do something fun in a while.
“Come on, stop working and come to play.” Umobol’s tactic was very simple but effective. He would harass Asja by poking her, biting her, and tickling her. He was never violent - consent was somewhat important to him. Not always, but sometimes.
Umobol turned into a mouse and hopped inside Asja’s corset. He has been nibbling her nipples for ten minutes already, and she could barely focus on her sovereign, explaining the issues with the household. Nobody else could see or hear Umobol, luckily - or unluckily, because not a few people perceived Asja as a bit of a self-talking wacko.
Asja was breathing heavily as every light lick of the demonic mouse would make her quiver, sending that itching sensation to the core. Umobol whispered disgusting things to her ear, things that she loved hearing.
As soon as her sovereign left, Asja ran to her room and removed her clothes. Umobol was already waiting for her, on her modest bed, in her favourite form: a large humanoid with no nose (Umobol, for some reason, regarded noses as excessive and unnecessary, and preferred smelling everything with his long tongue), with four arms. Asja really loved strong arms.
“Seronjo!” Asshole.
“As if you don’t like teasing.” Umobol smugly picked her up with his four arms and immediately kissed her neck. “You absolutely love it. You love being used, played with. Kurvo.” Whore.
The next moment, he was on top of her, biting her breasts and molesting her nipples. His numerous hands groped her hips and spread her legs. It was almost embarrassing how sticky she already was, how her arousal spread in ropes between her thighs.
Umobol grinned from ear to ear before pushing his large thumb into her mouth. “Always such a slut. Playing tough. Dangerous. Hehe… A mighty witch so desperate for my cock she drools from just my touch.”
The thumb that had been thoroughly and sloppily licked by Asja was now pressed against her clit. The merciless pressure almost made her cum, but Umobol noticed and pulled her hair, exposing her neck. “Don’t you dare, kurvo. You won’t cum until I let you.”
Asja whimpered. “Please. Let me…”
The demon chuckled. “Not yet. Be obedient. Be good.” He then refocused on her nipples. He sucked on them, pinched them, bit them, all while keeping her spread wide so that she wasn’t able to even rub her thighs together. Her hairy cunt pulsated and leaked from all the stimulation, but remained bright pink and untouched while Asja’s nipples bruised from all the molesting.
“Umobol… No more…” she begged, completely overpowered by the massive creature.
“Good witch,” Umobol said while licking his lips. “You didn’t cum. Be a good girl, and hold it a bit longer.”
His cock slid into her entrance, and Asja moaned loudly. “I can’t! I need to cum.”
“No. Not yet.” The demon’s phallus expanded inside her until it filled her perfectly, but he didn’t move. “I will fuck you, and I will use your cunt as I please.” He leaned down closer to her ear. “And you still won’t cum until I let you.”
Asja started crying the moment the demon ruthlessly began pounding into her. Once he sensed her reaching orgasm, he would simply pull out and play with her nipples. Her begging was a sweet music to his ears. His kisses were rough, teasing, very cruel, and Asja was trembling, soaked in sweat, barely coherent, almost mindless.
Finally, he pushed his cock all the way to his balls. “Okay, witch. You can cum now.”
He pressed his tumb against her clit and her squirt erupted from her throbbing pussy almost instantly. She screamed while thrashing around the bed. Umobol opened his mouth and rolled his tongue out to drink her juice, holding her by her hip, and still pressing her clit hard. Once Asja’s whimpers became quieter, he started rubbing her little bud. “Good witch. Now do it again, quickly.”
Asja could only grip her sheets and arch her back, seeking some kind of release from the merciless stimulation. Her orgasm was still burning her veins as another was being formed under the demon's forceful fingers. “Ah! Ah, that’s too much…” she begged.
“So cum quickly,” Umobol smirked, drawing circles against her moist, swollen flesh.
Asja pinched her own nipples and jerked against his hand, pushing through pain to reach that sweet, sweet peak, until it hit her again, like a hammer hitting her body.
Umobol quickly pushed his cock inside her spasming cunt and pounded into her as if she were a toy. “Such a sweet, obedient kurva,” he panted above her, holding her legs wide spread. “Do you want to get filled by me? Do you want my filthy demonic seed? Do you?”
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Asja’s eyes rolled backward, as a new tide of pleasure was rising between them.
Umobols absurdly long tongue fell out again, oozing saliva all over Asja’s body, and then proceeded to rub, pat, and penetrate her already full pussy, curling it upward to further ignite her sweet spongy spot. As she climaxed loudly and jerked upward, her muscles disobeying her, Umobol slammed his hips against hers and pumped his seed until Asja’s stomach bulged.
As Asja was catching her breath, Umobol was licking her all over, collecting her sweat, juices, and his own seed with loud slurps.
“You’re disgusting,” Asja said with a satisfied smirk. “Did you get what you wanted, you spoiled brat?”
Umobol grinned widely. “For now. But don’t expect to rest for long, witch. I really love to play with you.”
Asja sighed and wiped some of his spit from her cursed eye. “Lucky me.”
Atanas has always preferred to be outside. Even when its raining, snowing or thundering. Today is a beautiful day and he decided to sweep the balconies. That way he could also observe the passerbyes, the busy streets and fast moving cars. Sometimes he could even hear some gossip and smell delicious food.
Village folk would happily greet him. “Good morning, brother Atanas! Busy, are you?” He would wave them back, always polite. And then one day, he sees you. The day is bright and sunny and you are in a delightful mood. Your floral dresses is so vivid, so flowy, so… revealing. With a hard swallow, his eyes slide down your neck and he sees them. The… big… so big… soft. The broom cracks underneath his fingers and snaps loudly.
You look up, toward him, and smile. Atanas absentmindedly wipes the drool that formed in the corner of his lips. And then shyly waves toward you.
With a mischievous smile, you check left and right, and blow Atanas a tiny, secretive kiss before continuing your walk.
And, unbeknownst to anyone, you leave Atanas in a most frantic condition.
✦ content: mild nsft
✦ tw: self-harm, reckless behaviour, a bit of angst
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Winter festival is a time when different wolfkin families and clans meet and mix. It is loud and exciting, vibrant from life, fragrant fires and bodies, warming up the cold winter days and nights. Wolfkins bring their handicrafts and dishes, they perform and demonstrate their skills, they sell, barter, and give away various items and services. There is music and dancing, laughter and chatter, drinks and foods galore. And it’s not uncommon for many wolfkins to find a partner for the night or mate for a lifetime.
While wandering the stalls, between fires, chairs, blankets, and people, you found a table full of beautiful wooden utensils, bowls, and plates. Even though made of wood, they shone like metal.
“These are beautiful!” you exclaim, grabbing a delicate comb.
“Thank you.” A young wolfkin with a voice as velvety as the forest moss rises from the shadows and approaches the collection. “Made them myself.”
You see a strange scar on the man’s neck. Recognition is instant; you heard so much about him. About his past. About a carpenter who broke his clan. “You are… Ino ai’Izusa, right?”
His eyes cautiously flicker. “Yes.”
You can’t control your body. A pulse of desire forms deep inside your core. Your ai always told you to stay away from dangerous wolfkin. Your mama, your aunts, your sisters. “Do not fuck around with the Severed. They will break you, too.” But you’ve never been particularly obedient wolfkin yourself. In fact, you’ve always followed your instincts and urges the moment they showed up.
Your tail is excitedly lashing left and right. “I’m attracted to you.”
Ino looks slightly surprised. “I thought you would be wary of me.”
You smile and return the comb to him. “I don’t intend to soul bond with you, beautiful. Just to have some fun.”
With a smirk, he pulls you by the elbow toward him and your chest slams against his. “Keep it. You will need to fix your hair after I’m done with you.”
You chuckle and follow Ino into the darkness. You can almost hear your baba aunt's angry voice telling you’re a reckless, wild, disobedient pup. But she also taught you how to claw someone’s eyes out and break a knee in one kick.
Once you determine you followed Ino far enough, you push him against the tree, but his swift reflexes twist him around and he hits the trunk with his back instead of his face. You chuckle. “Sorry, I just like surprising pe—”
Before you can finish your sentence, his hand is around your throat. “Why did you do that? Do you have a death wish?”
You chuckle again, expecting his reaction, and pull the collar of your shirt down. “You and me both, beautiful.”
The fury in his eyes slowly melts as he sees your chest. Numerous scars resembling tree branches spread all over from your navel to your collarbone. His expression is more grim than you hoped, so you playfully glide your finger against the deep, old mark that goes around Ino’s neck. “My scars are not as interesting as yours, though.”
You weren’t expecting Ino’s next move. He releases your neck and bends down to kiss the middle of your chest. You gasp, his lips strangely cold against your skin. He continues gently kissing every little line, every deep and shallow cut that you inflicted on yourself, lovingly, slowly.
Your eyes fill with tears. You want to push him away, to hug him, to scream, to laugh. But you just stand there as he undresses you, kissing every part of your skin, soiled or clean, scarred or healed. And then you undress him. You didn’t plan to be this calm, this empty while doing all this. You expected fire, passion, raw energy, lust. But instead, you got some kind of… void. Pleasant, liberating, warm. You fucked for a long time, and you weren’t gentle with each other at all. You both snarled and bit each other while clawing orgasms from each other over and over again. The cold couldn’t find your pulsating bodies.
Near dawn, you finally lay on your discarded clothes, sweaty and clammy, throat sore from screaming.
“Can I ask you for one thing?” he asks.
You almost got startled by his voice. You haven’t used words in several hours. “Hm? What?”
“Leave a mark on my skin.” Ino is sprawled naked on his back, snow slowly falling on him, his arm placed over his chest. “Anyhow and anywhere you want.”
You sit there watching him for a few minutes before deciding. You take his hand and bite his wrist until it bleeds. He doesn't even flinch. Imagining those skillful hands of his forever marked with a part of you, crafting something beautiful, gives you some weird sense of hope.
