ohjustletmereblog

[ohjustletmereblog]

ⅴ▬ ⁽ 𝑜𝓇𝒸 ⁾

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₅˖₇ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : mdni----- unedited, NSFW,  explicit content, teratophilia, orc/royalty!human, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, overstimulation, breeding, spit kink, sloppy kisses, size difference, somnophilia, slight voyeurism, orcish, reader loses all forms of etiquette and just babbles-- stupidly, belly bulge. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎: as royalty it's your duty to marry and provide heirs for the kingdom, however, your parents have a different plan for you.

꒰m!orc ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱

 𝐹or as long as you can remember, you have been allured by the forbidden. Whenever your parents commanded you to abstain from a certain act or sternly prohibited you from engaging in another, it ignited a fervor within your being. And inevitably, you succumbed to its allure.

Your relationship with your parents was not a harmonious one. From the time you were but a child, they made it abundantly clear that you were not conceived out of their love for one another, but rather out of an obligation to the throne. To them, you were an inconvenience, a mere hindrance that they longed to be rid of. Thus, you existed in a perpetual state of unease, forever uncertain of their next move.

The castle bustled with activity this week, the number of knights seemed to have multiplied, and your encounters with your parents grew scarce. Your daily meals together became non-existent- not that you were complaining. Instead, during supper, they scorned and mocked you—drawing comparisons to your elder cousin who had recently become betrothed to a Duke. You were aware that they would arrange a marriage for you; it was inevitable, but you hoped it would be to someone who would eventually cherish you as you would them.

Verily, this day seemed naught but a replica of the day prior—a day draped in melancholy. The heavens were adorned with clouds of a somber ashy hue, obscuring the radiant sun in its entirety, and permitting but a scant ray of light to penetrate. You lay sprawled on your bed; the clamor from beyond your door kept you from getting any sleep, so you opt to lay there, eyes shut and breathing even.

The two hefty thuds at your door jolt you awake, your eyes snapping to the entrance. A servant girl stood there, her gaze piercing, and her upper lip curled in a sneer. "The King and Queen request your presence for a meal in the dining chamber."

You release a heavy sigh and nod. "Yes, I shall join them shortly, Nadia." she scoffs and closes the door with a soft thud. Rubbing the remnants of sleep from your eyes, you rose from your bed, slipping into your shoes with a sense of resignation. Hastily, you arranged your disheveled hair and adjusted your attire in the mirror, preparing yourself for the impending encounter. Finally, summoning your resolve, you embarked on the descent towards the dining hall.

 Your stomach churns uncomfortably as you motion towards the knights, fingers twisting nervously as they swing open the heavy oak doors. Stepping into the chamber, you swiftly bow and linger there for a moment, awaiting permission to be seated. "Hail to the Sun and Moon of the realm." Your sire grunts and gestures for you to take a seat; you release a shaky breath and settle across from your mother, who pays you no mind.

Within the dining hall, a profound stillness prevails, accompanied solely by the gentle clatter of utensils upon porcelain plates. You dare to disrupt the silence, your heart constricting within your breast, burdened by your uneasiness. " Pray tell, have I heard true? Have the demons breached the borders, causing mayhem? Is that why the ranks of the noble knights have swelled in recent days?"

The older man looks up from his meal, steely eyes on your face. "I did not deem you astute enough to discern matters of such nature, but aye, it is true. The Orcs shall breach the barrier if we do not do something. The knights from Tvatian shall not grace us with their presence for a week's time, yet our defenses wane with each passing moment."

The sound of your mother's throat being cleared reverberates through the air, abruptly drawing your eyes towards her. "You shall soon attain the age of twenty, my dear. Do you have any intentions of entering into wedlock?" Her voice possesses a cloying sweetness, signifying her ulterior motives; she is forever scheming. As you carefully place your knife and fork on the table, you grant her your undivided focus. "Aye, mother," you reply, your words tinged with a touch of uncertainty.

With a disapproving click of her tongue, she gracefully lifted her goblet to her lips, attempting to conceal the mischievous grin that flickered across her features. "Verily, a little bird has whispered in my ear that Orcs take pleasure in having humans as mere playthings, using them as harlots and passing them amongst themselves. How dreadful."

 Your hands clench beneath the table, and you struggle to suppress the bile that threatens to rise. Your heart thumps sporadically in your chest, almost painfully. What is she implying? "Pray tell, what is the essence of your words?"

"The royal family's expectations are not to be taken lightly, my child. If you persist in shirking your responsibilities by avoiding marriage and offspring, alternative measures must be considered. You shall be delivered to the head Orc at the border; mayhap that will pacify them until the Tavatian knights arrive." Your father had spoken this time, causing you to swiftly turn your gaze towards him. Tears welled up in your eyes, and a soft laughter escaped your lips. "Pray, father, assure me that you jest."

The answer lies within his silence. Your hands collide with the table, your head sways vehemently from side to side. "Nay, nay! You shall not subject me to this. What offense have I caused thee? I have obeyed all your commands unquestioningly, and you are planning to— Nay, I shall not proceed."

As the succulent salmon dances on her fork, your mother's laughter fills the air, resonating with a warmth that belies the gravity of her words. "My dear child, you find yourself bereft of options. You shall be deemed a traitor to the noble lineage and condemned to perish before your very birthday." A lump lodges itself in your throat, and tears stream down your face, as you rue the moment you stepped out of your room. "For what reason do you bear such animosity towards me?"

"Escort her back to her chamber; she's giving me indigestion," your mother states with a grimace.  The knights pause briefly, uncertain of how to guide you away. Dismissing them with a wave of your hand, you rise from your chair and exit the chamber, tears clouding your sight. The journey back is unsettling, with the maids gossiping and gesturing, their disdain evident on their faces, and their disapproving gazes following you.

The door is forcefully slammed shut behind you, and with great urgency, your feet carry you to your bed, where you collapse with a heavy sigh. Almost immediately, your pillow becomes saturated with the tears that pour forth, and you huddle into yourself, simply becoming smaller. 

  Indeed, you knew this would occur eventually, but you hadn't thought you would be handed over to some hideous monster who would likely slay you upon arrival. Violent sobs wrack your body, shaking you to the core, while your nose runs uncontrollably, the pillow muffles a scream of agony.

After half an hour had passed, you lay there, sleep welcoming you with warm arms. The answer to this puzzle would reveal itself upon your awakening.

—

Woken by the sound of shuffling, faint whispers, and delicate clinks, you remain motionless, filled with trepidation, and unwilling to stir from your position. You quickly clench your eyes shut upon hearing the intruder approach. As much as you desired to confront them, you were also intrigued to uncover their intentions within your room.

"Seize her limbs; we must transport her to the dungeon." In an instant, your heart falters, trembling fiercely, and for a moment, your breath is held captive. As your eyes snap open, the ceiling of your chamber looms above you. Swiftly, you strike at the person nearest to you, expressing gratitude to the gods as you hear their curse.

Emerging hastily from the confines of your bed, you sprint towards the exit, a shrill cry escaping your lips as a hand clutches your ankle. You descend abruptly, your chin colliding with the cold marble beneath, silently expressing gratitude for the prudent act of placing your tongue against the roof of your mouth in the final moments.

   Swiftly flipping over, you kick frantically, tears streaming down your face as your legs are forcefully spread apart, and the assailant inserts themselves between your thighs, seizing hold of your arms.

Your vision blurs as a heavy slap is brought across your face. The brief respite from your struggle grants the assailants the opportunity to lay a cloth upon your nostrils. Your eyes flutter shut, darkness casting a shadow upon your vision. The feel of your body being lifted is the only thing you remember.

Within the confines of the cell, you find yourself in a state of contemplation, your head gently leaning against the cold metal bars. The sharp sound of heels striking the ground causes you to straighten up. The passage of time remains elusive, yet the atmosphere hints at the arrival of a new day, shrouded in the quiet of dawn.

Your mother's face came into view, causing you to sneer in disdain as you buried your head in your knees, refusing to meet her gaze. The very sound of her voice sent shivers down your spine, igniting a mixture of anger and sorrow within you. She callously auctioned you off, displaying a complete lack of concern for your well-being.

"I reckoned it would be preferable for you to don your best attire, but it would be futile. A watchman shall be present shortly to guide you to the border, make no disturbance, do you understand? 'Twould be unsightly if you do."

You ignore her, but deep down, you are filled with dread to venture towards the border. You longed to weep and plead with her to refrain from sending you, but it would only wound your pride. Instead, she smiles and draws nigh unto the prison bars. "When we emerge victorious in this war, and if you are still breathing, I shall dispatch you to a brothel. I couldn't possibly have such a defiled child. Revel in your sojourn there, my dear."

The clatter-clack of her footwear slowly vanishing into the distance brings forth a torrent of tears. Why must this befall you? What sin have you committed to warrant such treatment? The jingle-jangle of keys catches your attention; the guard stands before you with a look of pity. "Your majesty, the time has arrived."

You nod in a pitiful manner and rise from the ground, using your soiled hands to dry your tears, leaving traces of dirt on your cheeks. As you draw near to the guard,  he pulls down his sleeve and tenderly wipes your cheeks with a sympathetic smile. You bow softly in gratitude and proceed to walk with him to the carriage.

He assists you inside and closes the door; a click prompts you to peer through the tiny gap. A lock secures the door; as you lock eyes with the guard, he merely sighs and shakes his head. "The Queen has requested this. I beg your pardon, Your Majesty." 

  You remain silent, leaning back in the seat and staring blankly at the castle. You see your father standing at his office window, observing. You avoid his gaze, curling up in the seat. Then, as the carriage sets in motion, your heart swells, and tears flow.

The carriage's abrupt jolt awakens you from your nap; the sun is just beginning to descend, signaling the end of a day filled with endless riding. The only noise is the steady trot of the horses and the occasional whisper of the soldiers. Have you arrived already? You swallow nervously and flinch as the door is forcefully opened. "We have arrived, your highness."

You nod and sit up, clasping his hand to disembark from the carriage. Your eyes swiftly survey the surroundings. Despite the tales, the border seemed relatively serene. You couldn't hear anything from beyond the wall. At length, a throat is cleared,  causing you to look up, and the guard beckons you along. You hesitate for only a moment before fortifying your resolve and walking forward.

After much anticipation, the distant voices grow more distinct. "Captain, 'tis here! Shall we unseal the gates?" The clamor of the ponderous wheels turning and ascending is loud in your ears. The gate opens enough to allow your passage beneath. They weren't wasting time at all. The guard places a hand on your lower back and pushes you forward gently. "The Orc General has agreed to receive you; he's on the other side waiting."

You suppress the lump in your throat and proceed, every gaze fixed upon you. The wall loomed thick and intimidating,  and you couldn't shake off the fear of it collapsing on you as you reached the other side. However, as you eventually crossed over, your gaze locked with his.

Standing tall at a minimum of 9 feet, he possessed a powerful build adorned with thick muscles, and hair decorating his chest. Dark brown hair cascaded down to his waist woven into an intricate braid, contrasting against his pear-colored complexion and a thick beard enveloped his jaw. Scars crisscrossed his body, enhancing his rugged charm.  Despite his blunt tusks, one of which was slightly chipped, there was no denying the outrageous attractiveness of this Orc.

As he takes a step forward, an instinctual reflex compels you to retreat, a shiver of trepidation coursing through your being. Your legs, heavy as if forged from lead, refuse to heed your desperate plea for escape. A subtle chuckle escapes his lips, the corners curling upwards in a smug grin. "Time is not a luxury I possess, little human," he mocks, his voice dripping with impatience. 

  You part your lips to utter a response, but only silence greets your futile attempt. The resounding thud of the closing wall seals your grim destiny, causing your weakened knees to buckle beneath you, surrendering to the tender embrace of the grassy ground. With a deep sigh, he strides towards you, casting a towering shadow over your slumped figure, a chilling reminder of his overpowering presence.

With utmost ease, he effortlessly lifts you, as if you were as light as a feather. Your body tenses in his embrace, a mixture of vulnerability and anticipation. The tears well up, threatening to spill over. Surprisingly, his touch is tender, his hands delicately traversing your legs and back. Summoning your courage, you manage to muster a question, your voice trembling slightly. 

  "Might I inquire about your name?"  Despite your hesitant speech, he pays no mind, his voice resonating with a deep timber that sends a surge of desire coursing through your veins. A flush of warmth spreads across your face, compelling you to avert your gaze and focus on your lap. "I am Loran, the General of the Mammoth Clan."

Silence envelops the air for a fleeting moment before your voice breaks through once more. "My name is (Name)" He acknowledges your introduction with a subtle hum, and together, you navigate through the labyrinthine paths until you arrive at a large tent. With utmost care, he settles you upon a sumptuous bed adorned with furs, then proceeds to position himself near a table, obscuring its contents from your prying eyes. 

  A knot tightens in your throat as you summon the courage to voice your deepest fear. "Might you have intentions of devouring me?" you whisper, recoiling at the childlike vulnerability that tinges on your words.

His laughter causes a flutter in your chest; every aspect of him leaves your insides twisted. At last, he ceases his actions and pivots to meet your gaze, his arms folded. You had to physically remind yourself to avert your eyes from his well-defined muscles. "Would you like me to?" His voice carries a teasing lilt, yet his words hint at something more intimate.

You shake your head in denial and draw your knees closer to your body. He was nothing like the figure you had imagined; you were convinced that your life would have ended by now. Your gaze wanders aimlessly as you delve into your own musings. Unbeknownst to you, he crouches down before you. The calloused tips of his fingers grazing your chin send a shiver down your spine. Your eyes meet his, and you find yourself holding your breath.

"The hour grows late; retire for the night. "

 You offer a silent nod, watching him leave the tent. Following his guidance, you settle back onto the furs. After the tumultuous events of the day, slumber swiftly envelops you, embracing the plush comfort of the bedding.

The warmth seeping into your skin prompts you to wriggle out of the furs. The weight of an arm flung over your stomach arrests you, dread settling in your heart and coiling around it like a vice. Though yesterday's events come rushing back to you and you relax, your tense body melting into Loran's embrace.  

  Despite the circumstances that brought you here, he had shown nothing but kindness, even playfulness - he didin't really make you uneasy, and it seemed as though a burden had been lifted from your shoulders.

In the realm of uncertainty, his actions remained capricious, yet amidst this unpredictability, a newfound liberation enveloped your being, you were free. Loran, with an irresistible allure, draws you nearer, your bodies melding as your front meets his. You place your hands on his chest and gently create distance, huffing as he cuddles closer.

After struggling a bit more, you come to a stop and seize the opportunity to examine him closely. Withdrawing your hand from his chest, you gently place it on his cheek, relishing its velvety texture. Loran possessed a striking appearance. Tracing your fingers along his lips, the sensation of his tusks lightly brushing against your fingertips captivates you once more. Their smoothness leaves you mesmerized. The rounded tips are gentle and harmless; they would not cause any discomfort if you were to share a kiss.

 Blushing with embarrassment, your cheeks turn a rosy hue, and for a fleeting moment, you seek solace by burying your face into his chest. Raising your gaze once more, you cautiously wave your hand before his face, ensuring his continued slumber. With no signs of movement and a steady rhythm of breath, a sigh of relief escapes your lips. 

  Gradually, you shift your position, ascending along his form, while your heart flutters nervously within your chest. With a mixture of fascination and unease, you lean closer, drawn to an inexplicable magnetism emanating from him. His lips, so alluring, entice you irresistibly.

 Placing your hand on his cheek, you lean in with deliberate slowness, capturing his lips with yours. The sensation of his tusks grazing your skin sends a rush of pleasure up your spine. With closed eyes, you deepen the kiss, savoring the unexpected softness of his lips. His taste is intoxicating, akin to a forbidden elixir. You have always been drawn to forbidden pleasures.

With a hint of reluctance, you retreat, allowing your eyes to slowly unveil the world around you. A startled gasp escapes your lips as your gaze meets Loran's. Despite your endeavors to break free from his embrace, his arms encase you like unyielding steel, entrapping you. Loran's chuckle resonates with a profound and drowsy timbre, while his hand ascends to firmly grasp your chin. "Do not flee from me, Sma ni." ( little one )

His lips are on yours, gentle and governing. His other hand gripping your waist and quickly lifting you onto his chest. The sensation of his thick and moist tongue overpowering your mouth elicits a fervent moan from deep within you, while your thighs instinctively clasp around his stomach. As his hands glide up your top, the pads of his fingers diligently work out the tension in your soft skin. Gradually, they find their way to your hips, expertly guiding them to grind against his abdomen.

With a soft whine escaping your mouth, you break the connection of his kiss, and your tongue lazily protrudes, leaving a trail of warm saliva on your chin. A primal growl resonates from deep within his chest, causing your thoughts to blur. Your hands instinctively find their way to his chest, the rough hair gently tickling your palms. The pressure on your hips eases, and his hand tightly grasps your hair, enabling him to sit up and halt the rhythmic grind of your hips.

A soft whimper escapes your lips as the throbbing sensation between your thighs intensifies.  Loran's lips trail along the curve of your throat, delicately nibbling at your tender skin, while his tongue glides with ease. Suddenly, a tearing sound startles you and a rush of cool air caresses your newly bared legs. The remnants of your shredded trousers gracefully descend to the floor, leaving you vulnerable and exposed.

Upon the velvety fur, Loran tenderly positions you, his voracious eyes meticulously exploring the expanse of your body. In a swift motion, he removes the sole obstruction that conceals your body, leaving you vulnerable to his cravings. You clench your thighs, your pussy pulsating with emptiness. This man was sinful; he looked so delectable, his lips shimmering with the remnants of your passionate kisses, and his complexion adorned with a captivating flush.

He lets out a deep groan, settling himself amidst your thighs, the ache in your legs a mere whisper compared to the intensity of his touch, tongue dancing over your nipples, nipping and tugging. Loran's hand travels up your body, his thick fingers entering your warm, wet mouth. You suppress a gag and suck on them shyly, tears welling up in your eyes. As his fingers delve deeper into your throat, you grasp his wrist firmly, your hips grinding against his thick bulge.

Loran pulls his fingers from your mouth, watching the rivulets of saliva drip down his digits. Leaving a glistening trail of moisture along your body, Loran delicately caresses his fingers through the soft curls of hair on your pussy, teasing you with the soft touch of his fingertips. With deliberate precision, he gradually eases one digit into the confines of your snug entrance stretching you. You pull your fleshy bottom lip into your mouth, teeth digging painfully. Your lashes flutter, exposing the whites of your eyes as they roll back in blissful surrender, eyebrows arching. Your mewls are soft and pleading. "Mmph! L-Loran. Please "

Your voice is a siren's call to him, as you whimper and plead for him. His desire to possess you completely, to fuck you full of his cum, to have you swollen with his young, consumes him. The mere thought of it almost brings him to the brink of release. Granting mercy upon your adorable, fucked out face, he finally sinks his finger into your cunt, relishing the exquisite tightness that embraces him, while your delicate hands clutch his braid and tug.

  With his other hand, he gently cups your cheeks between his large, powerful fingers, causing your lips to pucker. His mouth descends upon yours, messy and dominating, leaving a trail of mingled saliva that pools down your flushed cheeks. He chuckles as your eyes wander elsewhere, glazed and hazy with pleasure as he eases a single finger inside you.

A high-pitched sound escapes your lips as he expertly probes a sensitive spot deep within you, causing your hips to tremble and your inner walls to clench around his fingers. Leaning closer, his warm breath brushes against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "Ayh lat naka ve cum, sma shara? " His mother tongue is foreign to you, but it sounds absolutely erotic, especially while he's stroking your drooling pussy skillfully. You shudder fervently, emitting mewls and whimpers, as the squelching noises of his thrusts fill the confined space of the tent. “I—uhn~ w-wait p-please, Lor…” You babble nonsensically. ( are you going to cum, little human? )

 Loran, in a teasing mood, complies with your dumb prattling, and moves away from you, fingers slipping out with an erotic pop. A soft whimper escapes your lips, your lower lip jutting out in a pout as tears well up in your eyes from the empty feeling in your pussy, your eyes widen at seeing him suck on his dampened fingers. “N-no, why’d you stop!” 

 With a chuckle, the Orc leans in to press a tender kiss on your flushed cheeks, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "I simply did as you asked, Faushnu," he whispers. Pulling back slightly, he studies your expression - your eyebrows furrowed, lips parted, and your chest rising and falling rapidly. "I did not mean for this," you whimper, grinding your hips against his growing bulge. “M-more. Give me more.” You give him a stern glare, that only turns him on more, his little hostage was so demanding. ( baby ) "Of course, Your Highness," he says, his tone dripping with playful mockery. Loran's large hands firmly grasp your waist, swiftly maneuvering you onto your stomach. With a gentle yet commanding motion, he elevates your hips, causing your face to be buried in the soft furs beneath you. The sensation is almost agonizing as your back arches, eliciting a sharp squeal from your lips. A glob of warm saliva unexpectedly lands on your moistened pussy, causing an involuntary clenching reaction. "What are yo--?" 

  Before you can finish, the sudden roughness of his tongue against your throbbing cunt has you seeing stars. His feral growls reverberate through the air, as his tongue delves and ravishes you with an insatiable fervor. Reduced to a whimpering wreck, tears of rapturous delight cascade down your flushed face.  Desperate to regain control, you weakly press your small hand against the crown of his head, attempting to halt the relentless onslaught. "No more, please, m'gunna cum. Want to cum for you," you manage to slur amidst incoherent babbling, your words a contradictory mix. 

Loran, enraptured by your musings, fingers your pussy once again, effortlessly finding that spongey nerve inside of you and deftly curling his thick finger into it, time and again. A torrent of scorching pleasure engulfs your entire being, as you succumb to an intense climax, your trembling thighs embracing his head while your pussy flutters around his finger.

" Loran! "You slur, thighs still convulsing as the feel of Loran's hands on the fat of your hips seems multiplied, your mind filled with goo. The rustle of fabric falling to the ground barely registers before his thick cock presses into your pussy, hands guiding your hips onto him. Warmth trickles onto your pulsing cunt, his saliva lubing where you connect. You clench around him, emitting obscene moans. 

   He delves deeper, your snugness yielding to his thick, heavy cock. You swear you can feel every pulsating vein, every ridge of him inside of you. You whimper and whine when he fucks half of his big cock into your tiny little hole, and you thrash and let out small mewls of pleasure. "Mmph, Lor--!! it won't fit!" you whimper amidst sobs. 

"Hm?" He utters, his voice a low hum, as he observes with rapt attention as you stretch around his green, monstrous cock. The pressure within your abdomen steadily intensifies, inch by inch, until Loran thrusts in the last couple of inches, his large balls flush against your engorged clit. You're already fucked stupid, pupils blown, and moans strewing from your lips. The Orc takes hold of your hand, guiding it towards your stomach, allowing you to feel the undeniable presence of his shaft protruding from your belly. "Do you feel me? Feel my cock in your insides, my little human?"

With a forceful motion, he retreats, then thrusts forcefully into you, his grip tightening on your hair as he pulls.  A fervent moan escapes your lips, as the resounding collision of his hips against your ass fills the air, the only thing you can hear. The wet squelching of your arousal intermingles with his precum, cascading onto the opulent furs beneath you. His name becomes a sacred mantra, slipping from your tongue like a fervent prayer. "S'good, m'gunna cum, let me cum, please, please."

With a gentle caress, Loran's hand ascends your stomach, pinching your sensitive nipples. You mewl, back arching as you clench and pulse around his thick length, cumming harder than before, a wave of darkness gently tinting your vision. A low, guttural moan reverberates from deep within you, harmonizing with Loran's unyielding thrusts. “That's a good fuckin’ girl.”

The Orc's hand comes down on your ass, observing the quivering flesh. Your violated hole trembles around Loran's thick length, and he snickers, his hips stuttering. "You're mine. Hm? Do you understand, pet?" His thrusts became more profound, faster, not giving you rest, groaning as you nod quickly, whimpering.

You turn your gaze towards him, his fingers constricting in your tresses. "Loran, want you to cum inside me, please." Your feeble arms emerge from beneath your form, delicate hands reaching to spread your pussy wider. "You will, right?"

 Your wanton plea hurls the massive Orc over the brink. Loran's hips slam into yours once more as his scorching cum coats your walls; the copious amount of it had you cumming once more. Loran continues to pump his seed into you, his cock still hard and balls full of cum. He longed to see you swollen with his offspring; he wouldn't stop until he knew you were trapped with him.

You are not permitted to rest until the early morning, curled against his chest with his seed leaking from your stretched opening. Your body is tender, marked with bruises on your neck and chest. Loran places his large hand on your cheek; although he is running late for the meeting, he decides to allow you more time to sleep.

He lifts you gently, thankful that he has cleaned you up and changed the bedding. You snuggle into his warmth, almost convincing him to delay for another hour. "My zemar, it's time to wake up. We must rise before the sun sets." (my heart)

Stirring in his arms, your eyelashes flutter before you slowly open your bleary eyes. Attempting to close them once more, his hearty chuckle resonates, partially rousing you. Placing you gently on the bed, he drapes one of his shirts over you, guiding your arms through the sleeves. Loran picks you up again, cradling you as he carries you out of the tent, shielding your eyes from the glaring sun. The short walk to the other side of the campsite goes unnoticed by you.

He arrives promptly, his raven perched gracefully on its stand. A soft whistle escapes his lips, a signal for the bird to gather the troops. Loran takes his place at the head of the table, positioning you to face him, your legs wrapped around his waist. With spit on his fingers, he traces circles around your cunt, pleased that it had returned to its original state, tight and warm. After lubricating your entrance, he spits on his palm and wraps his member in a firm grip, ensuring that it's slick. 

  Loran aligns himself with your little hole and eases inside, emitting a deep groan at the vice grip; you let out a sleepy moan, tightening around him. His large hands grip the fat of your hips, guiding you down the rest of his thick length. He pulls his shirt over your ass, concealing where his cock is nestled inside of you.

He has to stop himself from fucking you on the table in front of all his tribe members. Once he had you in the perfect position, his soldiers began to file into the room. He couldn't help but notice how your warm, tight hole was becoming slick. Unbeknownst to you, his thick cock was already buried deep within you.

The meeting unfolds seamlessly. With nightfall as their ally, they conspire to dismantle the impenetrable walls of the Kingdom on the morrow. A sacred covenant governs The Mammoth Clan, dictating that the fairer sex and the innocent offspring shall be spared from any affliction. Thus, the innocent shall be granted mercy and protection.

Awakening towards the end, your pussy pulsating and enveloping something thick and long. A twitching motion stirs inside you, nudging your G-spot. A soft moan escapes your lips as you hide your face in his neck. Loran dismisses it as your mere awakening, soothingly caressing your back. Only a fool would miss the evidence of your arousal - the glistening juices trickling down your bare thighs and the hint of green meeting a clenching hole

" Dismissed. "

The orcs file out of the room, speaking amongst each other. Loran's gaze descends upon your petite frame, concealed beneath his garments. He looks feral. Once the auditory commotion subsides, you cautiously lift your head, locking eyes with his penetrating stare.

"Loran, please."

The Orc emits a deep snarl, his lips forcefully meeting yours as he firmly grasps the flesh of your hips, hoisting you off his slick member. Swiftly, he plunges you back down, thrusting into you with fervor, fucking you onto him. You're moaning mess, the spit from your sloppy kiss sliding down your chin and eyes rolling to the back of your head. The sound of wet slapping resonates loudly within the confines of the tent. With a gasp for air, you disengage from him, your hands finding solace on his broad shoulders.

 A particular thrust causes the swollen, mushroom-shaped tip of his cock to abuse your g-spot and your moan is shrill. You climax, your body trembling around him, leaving a creamy, ivory ring at the base of his cock. Stars burst in your vision as you weakly press your lips against his throat, whimpering as he continues to thrust into you, your sensitive and throbbing core tender. " Lor-.. no more.. s’too.. much!" you sputter, sloppily pressing your lips to his and sucking on his large tongue. 

Despite the roughness of his hips snapping into yours, he caresses your sides softly and pulls away from your kiss, licking his lips. "Be a good pet, hm? Let me use my pussy, can you do that for me? " You nod hesitantly, and he smiles, sending your stomach to unfurl languidly. "S'my good girl." You bury your face in his neck with a whimper, but when your blunt little teeth sink into his collarbone it pushes him over the edge; and he stands up with you still bouncing on his cock, thrusting so deeply that you hiss. Ropes of cum paint your pulsing walls, filling you up.

Loran's shallow thrusts ensure not a single drop is wasted as you envelop him in your embrace, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply.

Mayhap, the circumstance of being dispatched to this place was not as grievous as first imagined...

connected with this post!

[ohjustletmereblog]

Bull Hybrid bf who brought you to the rodeo as a joke. Thinking it would be funny and fun play on part of who he is.

But now the longer you two spend there and the longer your attention rests so intently on those other bulls, the more jealous he gets. He stares at you as you watch the rodeo in awe, wondering when was the last time you looked at him that way with a pout.

He knows it’s a ridiculous thing to be jealous about. He knows! He’s also completely aware that he and the bulls in the show are entirely different given that they’re actual bulls and he’s mostly human.

Yet he can’t help the jealousy that rises within him as he watches you not watching him. He wants your attention and he’s willing to fuck you in front of this whole stadium in order to get it. That’ll show those dumb bulls. He’ll give the people here a real show.

“You rode me so much better than those cowboys, remember? If you need a refresher I’m always down to prove it again to you,” your bf murmurs in your ear.

Your eyes go wide and a blush quickly overtakes your features. Before you know it, Bull Hybrid bf is scooping up your plush frame in his muscular arms and slamming your back against the stadium wall.

All thoughts of the rodeo you’re missing and the acts you aren’t gonna see go flying out of your head the moment your bf’s cock sinks into your tight little hole. His giant girth stretching out your core and giving you no time to adjust as he starts fucking up into you.

And he doesn’t plan on stopping until the only thought in your pretty little head is him and the only name on your addictive lips is his…

[ohjustletmereblog]

I cannot help it. I’m already too in love with his wolfdog hybrid story line lol

tw: somnophilia, dubcon-ish. MDNI

Wolfdog hybrid who just can’t help himself. Months of living with you and trying to behave are making him go insane.

You’re sleeping, and you smell so good. He wonders if you’re having a wet dream. He hopes it’s about him. The hybrid slowly lifts the blanket off of you, being very careful not to wake you. He’s already drooling at the sight of your breast, nipples hardening under the cold air. One clawed hand come up to cup one, squeezing softly. A gasp leaves your lips, causing his hips to involuntarily thrust. He swears he could just cum like this. He lowers his head, licking and sucking on your other nipple through the shirt. His ears are up and alert for he would hate to wake you. You’re just so sweet and pliant when you sleep.

Another soft gasp leaves you as he is nibbling at your breast and it’s already making him take off his pants and rub his leaking cock against your thigh. Finally, he lifts your shirt up, and bites into your nipple. Only hard enough to make you moan, but not hard enough to leave marks. He doesn’t want you to know what he has been up to yet. Although, his self control is slowly slipping. His other hand goes in between your legs, and oh, how wet you are. Your dream must be incredibly erotic. He starts humping into your leg faster, harder, muffling his moans by biting into your breast.

When he finally cums, it’s so much his head snaps up, looking at your face, wanting to make sure it didn’t wake you. It didn’t. Fortunately for him, you were out like a light. The hybrid chuckled a little at himself. Full humans were such airheads, so little survival instincts. He must protect you he thinks to himself. Leave his scent all over you so anyone else knows who you have at home.

Of course one time isn’t enough for him. Not with all the months of built up tension. He moves over you, parting your legs and starts to hump you again. His cock was already painfully hard again, still leaking. There is a huge puddle of cum on the sheets already but he doesn’t care. He will release himself over your whole body if he has to. You’re his after all. Even if you don’t know it yet.

Your panties are completely soaked and to a beast in heat like him, it must mean you’re enjoying yourself as much as he enjoys it. He keeps humping you like an animal, biting your shoulder to keep himself quiet until he comes all over your lower abdomen. But does he stop? No. By morning you are so covered in his release there is no doubt about what happened that night. However, you don’t say anything. But you do make sure you wear sexier pjs that night to bed.

[ohjustletmereblog]

People on tumblr: you’re not even a real monster fucker you just want to get gang banged by tentacles. Sorry but if your “monster” is literally one of the most popular kinds of hentai with millions of porn videos and pictures it doesn’t even count.

People in real life: ew you’re team Jacob??? He’s a werewolf isn’t that like kissing a dog???

[ohjustletmereblog]

What's some little fluffy head-canons do you have that you really like? Any monster! Any universe!

Oooo, um, hmm~ maybe not just fluffy, but tropes and ideas that I just love in monster writing

A monster that feels warmth for the first time from their partner. Not just anything intimate; but the first time they realize that they're being taken care of.

Their new partner/friend combs out knots in their fur or hair. And they're super gentle about it. Even getting something to soften the tangles so the comb doesn't snag too often.

The monster sits a little dumbfounded that their human is comfortably climbing over them to get at the tufts of stubborn fur. Talking to them about their day while the monster is slowly falling asleep under each stroke of the comb

Or when their human comes back after a long while! This gets me everytime! When the monster thinks, "they're not coming back." and then a few days later their human is banging on the front door, demanding to know why they've been locked out.

Nuzzles from the human for the first time. And the monster has to figure out if this is an intimate gesture or an affectionate gesture. Or if the human is just really enjoying the feel of their fur, hair, scales on their cheeks.

The bumbling of different courting rituals is always adorable. Gift giving that the human thinks is kind gestures; but the monster is professing their love and wishing to court through these presents.

Trial by combat and the victor gets the human. And their monster becomes absolutely unrecognisable in their focus to win. They gather their human up and take them away after decimating the competition with ease.

A monster lifting their human like a feral kitten because they're being stubborn/irritating or, better, it's how the monster moves them around.

I will always have love for protective monsters. Little touches to make sure their human is still beside them. Becomng more fierce/looking terrifying to scare off anyone that is upsetting their human. Only for their person to look back at them and their all heart-eyes and innocent smiles.

Hand-holding WHEN THE MONSTERS HANDS ARE MASSIVE IN COMPARISON!!

The human asking to be crushed and the monster doing so without question. Laying ontop of them or hugging them tightly until they hear something 'pop'.

Love me all these tropes!

[ohjustletmereblog]

A monster that nudges your hand with their tail when they want your attention. Bashfully seeking you out but not sure how to ask for some attention.

They're not entirely sure if you're comfortable with them touching you yet. So, they make do with little brushes of their tail or a scrape of their talons along the back of your hand.

It isn't until you grab their hands and shove your face into their palms, climbing into their lap with an needy huff, that they get the message.

You're very comfortable with them. And you're both equally touch starved.

After that moment, their tail is looped around your waist always. Their hand finds yours at every opportunity, their thumb rubbing along the back of your hand while you chat about random things.

They nap with their head on your thighs. Burying their nose into your soft belly and their arms replacing their tail around your hips.

You're their safe place.

Soon, naps become a frequent occurrence with you and them tangled up in each others embrace. With their talons scraping through your hair, massaging your scalp in a way that immediately has you slumbering against their chest.

From naps, come nights with them curled up around you. Nuzzling against your hair and their large hands holding you close while you cozy up against their broad chest. You both fall asleep nestled against the other.

No longer touch starved and too cozy to stir from the bed the next morning.

[ohjustletmereblog]

Ahme was born to human parents, who, being farmers in a small godsfearing village, were terrified at the small red bundle in the midwife’s arms and abandoned him in the woods.  (They later claimed their child had died in childbirth, and gratefully and without shame, accepted myriad of pies and foods their neighbours brought to the mourning couple.)   The woods were dark and cold but it was not too dark for the baby to be found by a member of the local witches coven, who was using the full moon to collect some mistletoe. Serya, a young drow, immediately fell in love with the child, dropping her sickle and basket and took him back to her group.   The coven was feared by the nearby villagers but only for the reason that many are scared of things they do not understand.   The coven was 50 strong, a mix of races, all women and all became mother to the little one. They raised him together, taught him their ways, helped him learn his way around the world without his eyes and they gave him love, more than any child could have.  Ahme grew up kind and cheerful, a smile on his lips and soft words on his tounge, a good sweet generous man who’s mothers would set the world on fire for his happiness.  The blue markings on his skin are safety charms placed on him by the coven when he was little and got into everything (have you tried getting a cauldron off a kids head that had teifling horns? not fun).  When he announced that he was leaving, his mothers, while agreeing that getting out the world would be great for him, all agreed to add more charms when he wasn’t paying attention. All his clothing and jewellery was sneakily carved and patched and sewn with protective sigils and while he could not see them, it warmed his heart when he set out and his fingers grazed an embroidered spell in his pocket.

 original dnd character. I’m not sure whether to make him a cleric or a warlock, i know he’s gonna be a healer of some sort, i don’t think he likes bringing pain to others for sure. will work on him more soon, i think, he’s too fun not to draw!

  ✨(commission info)(kofi)(redbubble)✨

[ohjustletmereblog]

syros the barbarian

[ohjustletmereblog]

How did I mess up the reblog I do not know (facepalm)

I am so very sorry Potion Craft. I know this is a game to brew potions but this bro is awaking something inside me.

Like, a hairy cow that is big, have a hobby, a skill, knows what calms him, has a life, AND A SENSE OF HUMOUR.

WOULD. no notes

[ohjustletmereblog]

my mind exploded when these showed up in my inbox!! it's Theo the minotaur from My Minotaur Husband, working hard on the job so he can get home to his lady love.

See the full NSFW versions over on my website. (You can also find it on bluesky and twitter)

Incredible artwork is by Aduran!

[ohjustletmereblog]

content: gender neutral reader, NSFW

Octopus Hybrid Boyfriend is impressively intelligent and equally analytical when it comes to your likes and dislikes. Not only can he immediately tell whether you have a new favorite character, but he will try to mimic said individual as a way to win your affections. He's given you a fair share of heart attacks as you've returned home to a strikingly different appearance, replicating features down to the finest detail. He absolutely uses his transformation powers to manipulate you.

Octopus Hybrid Boyfriend keeps breeding you in hopes you'll finally discard all other sperm packets from previous partners. He doesn't seem to understand that you can't...keep samples stored in your body. Humans don't work like that, you'll explain relentlessly each time you feel his mating tentacle slithering its way down your skin. Just to make sure, he tells himself. He doesn't have to worry about rivals if you're always filled to the brim with his genes.

Octopus Hybrid Boyfriend is less of a talker, and more of a toucher. What seems like an innocent handshake to you is a fully fledged psychoanalysis and data gathering process for him. His tentacles and suckers are exceptionally sensitive, and he'll often use them to read your moods. "A little nervous?" he asks with an innocent grin, holding you in his tendrils. "You're saltier than usual." You're still now sure how to feel about him tasting you with his appendages. Is there anything he can't do with those things? Don't ask, he will test it out.

Octopus Hybrid Boyfriend takes his competition very seriously. You can easily discern his bouts of jealousy from the bold colors and rough textures taking over his body, an alien-like display meant to intimidate anyone acting too familiar with you. A fascinating sight, you must admit, as swirling patterns overtake his arms and torso within mere seconds. Of course, relying exclusively on visual trickery would be foolish: he has a convenient collection of files which contain elaborate plans and strategies against his foes. "Why do you have a guide for the hypothetical downfall of my work colleague," you find yourself inquiring with a baffled stare. "You never know," your partner explains with a certain pride in his voice.

[ohjustletmereblog]

Commission for Vamp

Nipple-tastic

Minotaur (Ambrose) x fem!reader || sfw (mostly), teasing, double POV, (very light) nipple play, UST (Unsolved Sexual Tension™)

Reader’s POV

“I’ve always wanted those,” you let out a mumble when he walks in the living-room without a shirt on. Well, you mumble that after spending about half a minute gaping and trying to make your tongue cooperate.

He scratches his chest absently as he lays snacks on the coffee table. “Wanted what?”

You point at his chest. “Nipple piercings.”

“Is that so?” You think you might've imagined a hint of teasing in his tone, but you aren’t sure. He’s staring down at you, and when you’re sitting on the couch your head is way too close to his groin for you to form coherent thoughts.

And then an idea forms in your brain as he’s sitting down: “Would you do mine?” You try not to sound too excited, but you’re definitely very excited. “Would you pierce my nipples, I mean?” You clarify. “I’d be more confident if you were the one doing them.” Which is true, you’d be more calm if he were the one piercing you, he makes you feel comfortable and safe.

He stutters his answer, “I- Your- Yes. Sure.” He covers his lap with a pillow as you smile big at him.

You let out a happy squeal. “Yay! Can you make the appointment, or should I text Poppy?” You’re already reaching for your phone.

“DON’T-” You jump and look at him, startled by his outburst. “Don’t text Poppy,” he repeats in a calmer tone. “I’ll make the appointment for next week, I think I have a free hour on Thursday, does that work?”

“Yep,” you let out in a strained voice, he’s sitting close and you can feel his heat right at your side, melting half of your ideas and thought.

You’re fumbling with the remote, trying really hard not to stare back at his furry chest and pierced nipples, because then you’re sure you’d have to excuse yourself to the bathroom to masturbate, and you really want to watch a movie.

“I’ll text you the details,” he lets out as you put on the movie distractedly.

Ambrose’s POV

You can do this, you can be normal about it. You can be totally normal about it. You can be professional. You're a professional.

It doesn't matter how many times he’s tried to convince himself that he can deal with the appointment as if nothing’s happening, his half-hard dick and racing heart are calling him a liar.

And then his phone rings from a text message, startling him and making his heartbeat even faster. Fuck, is he having a heart-attack? Can minotaurs have heart-attacks? He doesn’t think so, but maybe he’s the first one. Maybe he’s about to die because he’s pining so hard that his heart is going to explode just because his mate’s name flashes across his screen.

He checks his phone, trying to be sly about it. The second he grins at his screen, Poppy is chuckling. “Hey Brick, look at lover boy being all stupid-faced because of a human,” she teases.

“Shut up, Poppy,” he retorts.

It was only a text to ask if you could spend the night at his house, and yet he feels stupid as he tries to text a ‘yes’ and fumbles with the letters on his phone until the message is “ues”. He can feel his face heating as he sends a second text quickly after, this time with the correct letters. He can’t stop making a fool of himself, can he?

Brick is chuckling when he teases him: “Awwwww! Look at him, Poppy! I think he just blushed!”

“I hate you both,” Ambrose complains. He can see Brick about to say something when the bell above the door rings.

You walk in with a plushie in one hand, looking incredibly cute as you close your umbrella with the other. Ambrose tries really hard to gather the neurons in his slow-melting brain.

He cannot be normal about this.

He swallows hard as you exchange some pleasantries and fun banter with his friends and walk into the station. He’s trying to regain at least a semblance of a calm demeanor before you enter and he sees your boobs. There’s no way you’re about to walk in his space and pull off your shirt as he stares at and touches your tits.

HE’S GOING TO TOUCH YOUR BREASTS. YOURS!

Oh, goddess… He might just die today.

He barely hears anything being said, completely dissociating until he hears you close the door behind yourself and lay on the reclined piercing chair he prepared. “Okay, take off your shirt and let’s begin,” his voice sounds strained, even to his own ears, but you don’t seem to notice as you comply.

He has a mini crisis when you take off your crop top and realizes you weren’t wearing anything underneath it. All his brain is capable of conjuring up is thoughts of ‘free access’ as he blinks slowly and turns around to hide his erection from you. You’re humming quietly as you fold your shirt and he re-organizes his already organized tools.

Do not grope her. Do not caress her skin. Do not think about licking her boobs until she’s a wet mess under you and begging to be filled by your cock-

Yeah, no. His inner monologue is absolutely not helping right now, and he’s powerless to change it to safer topics because your boobs are right in front of him, and you’re waiting for him to touch them.

Professionally. PROFESSIONALLY! Be professional, Ambrose.

He swallows hard before continuing: “I’m going to pinch your nipple lightly so it hardens, okay?” You nod, looking away as your face gets incredibly pink.

He pinches the tender flesh between the tip of his fingers and almost moans. You let out a tiny huff, and the way your skin blooms with goosebumps makes his brain start running rampant with more dirty thoughts. Stop it you perverted bull, he reminds himself.

“I’m going to sanitize the area and equipment with alcohol wipes, then with a marker I’ll mark the spots on both sides that the needle will pierce into and come out of. After that, I’ll use the forceps to ensure that the area is as still as possible before piercing the needle through your nipple and putting the bar in its place. In a couple of months you can choose to come back to size them down, if you want.” You hum in agreement, and it’s him who has to take a deep breath before proceeding.

You cover your face with your plushie and Ambrose has to bite his lip not to coo at you. At the same time, he’s way too focused on the task at hand- on your breast in his hand, to be precise. Then at how, the second the needle pierces through your nipple, you give the absolute quietest gasp and he smells a surge of arousal in the air. Fuck, he forgot that you like a little pain, and now he’s having trouble breathing with how aroused it seems to have made you.

He’s biting the inside of his cheek so hard he can taste blood, but he doesn’t care as he changes the needle out and holds your other boob carefully. You aren’t looking at him, but the way your breathing is increasing and the way your nipple doesn't need help getting hard this time makes him want to moan out loud.

“All done?” You ask excitedly. He nods and hums an affirmative ‘Mhm,’ not trusting his own voice.

You get up with a tiny jump that makes your tits shake and bounce, and he mumbles a curse under his breath as his dick throbs inside his pants. He’s pretty sure he’s going to have an imprint of the fly off his pants on his dick at this point.

You’re looking at your reflection as you excitedly state: “Awesome!”

Your excitement is contagious and he can’t avoid the smile growing on his face. You turn around, pressing your tits together as if offering them to him, and he has to cover his groin with his hands, scared his dick is about to burst through the fabric. “What do you think? You think they look cool?”

You’re completely oblivious to his struggles as you examine one of the bars. “Yup. Nipple-tastic,” he says in a short breath, making you awkwardly pity-laugh as he regrets his life choices while glancing at your breasts jiggling. “Wait for me outside while I sanitize everything and we can go, okay?”

You nod shyly, your face completely blushed and giving him all kinds of dirty ideas of when else your face would be that pink. How far that blush would go… Fuck. You put on your crop top and walk out with a big grin.

He’s cleaning up and trying to hold his breath in so he doesn’t inhale more of the delightful scent of your arousal when he hears Poppy shit-talking: “Yeah, minotaurs love some good riding, just like bulls.” He’s disconnected enough not to understand the context of what she’s saying, but the thought of his friend talking to his mate about riding minotaurs is getting him dangerously close to losing control.

Calm down, he reminds himself.

“Come on, Ambrose! The human is waiting for yaaaaaaaa…” Brick says in a sing-songy tone as Ambrose tries to regain some of his inner control. He’s trying to willpower his dick to go down enough to survive the drive to his house.

He can do it. He can do it. Think of old ladies’ pussies. Think of rotten food. Think of that disgusting mold Brick was trying to feed him back when they were kids.

He’s almost gotten his dick down when he takes a deep breath and... He can’t do it.

He’s looking down, annoyed at his still hard dick as he mumbles: “Will you just calm down so we can leave, dammit?”

He can hear his friends laughing uncontrollably as you ask what’s happening, your human ears not able to catch his mumbling. Poppy and Brick are too busy laughing to respond, so he rapidly finishes cleaning and walks out, trying to hide his hard dick as best as he possibly can.

“Are you ready to go?” He asks as he glares daggers at his friends.

You turn around with a soft smile that melts the anger inside of him instantly. “Yeah, sure. I thought we could order some food, or did you wanna stop and eat somewhere?” you ask as the two of you walk out, leaving his stupid friends snickering like hyenas behind.

He’s so going to kill his friends.

[ohjustletmereblog]

sorry Potion Craft, but you are not helping

I am so very sorry Potion Craft. I know this is a game to brew potions but this bro is awaking something inside me.

Like, a hairy cow that is big, have a hobby, a skill, knows what calms him, has a life, AND A SENSE OF HUMOUR.

WOULD. no notes

[ohjustletmereblog]

I am so very sorry Potion Craft. I know this is a game to brew potions but this bro is awaking something inside me.

Like, a hairy cow that is big, have a hobby, a skill, knows what calms him, has a life, AND A SENSE OF HUMOUR.

WOULD. no notes

[ohjustletmereblog]

Goth girls and eldritch beings

[ohjustletmereblog]

sneaking away from the party.. 🌙💗

[ohjustletmereblog]

Hey, I love you content. Really totally love it. Is it weird to say that it makes me relax ?

Anyhow I read a tumblr post today about some really nice gentle giant movers and packers and I wanted to ask you if you could write a human×minotaur drabble/post about the human hiring a company of movers and packers with incredible reviews and these massive human guys show up who are all so nice and sweet and then this more massive minotaur shows up and you think that he would be lifting heavy furniture but he begins to carefully wrap all the delicate items and then he helps in lifting the heavy furniture which makes all the humans huff and gruff but he's making a specific grunt sound once in a while which travels straight down to your core.

You were too stressed that day to focus on him but that doesn't mean that you didn't touch yourself to the thought of him late at night once they all left. Without your knowledge he tucked away a few of your things and he kept coming back to return them to you. You were still unpacking so you didn't actually know how much was missing and were very grateful and always offered him something in return i.e. drinks or snacks or just hanging out for a bit which turns into him helping you out to sort stuff.

One day he shows up just as you have gotten out of the shower and were in the middle of a mastμrbating session and he can smell it on you. It makes him go feral and then after everything's done he gets all cuddly and purrs a little bit (I read somewhere that cows and some bulls purr when they're happy just like cats do)

I'm sorry if this was too long. I love your writing because it tickles very niche and specific interests and I wanted to throw the whole idea out there. Thank you so much if you choose to write this and thank you so much regardless.

A/N: Hi there! It makes me happy that you like my content, thank you so much for being here and reading my stuff. <3 Hope you like this!

Moving company

Minotaur x fem!reader || sex toys, oral sex

When you decided to move, someone at work recommended you a monster moving company, claiming they would do the job in half the time. Which they did. But still was a surprise when a team of four minotaurs showed at your door and started moving boxes as if they weighted nothing. You had never enjoyed watching someone as much as you did that day. Their rippling muscles flexing and bulging, sweat running down their torsos and foreheads as they moved your stuff around. By the time they left, you were wet and ready to get beyond fucked.

But wasn’t until a couple days later that one of the movers, the one with the long hair and pretty hazel eyes, appeared on your doorstep with a box of books, excusing himself and his crew because they forgot to bring that one in. You thanked him, offering him some of the tea you were preparing. He agreed, and you started talking, enjoying his company a bit more than necessary. He left that evening with a smile and your phone number.

And he appeared again and again, always with the excuse of something he forgot to bring you, until you brought it up and he shyly admitted he liked you and wanted to know you better. You (obviously) kissed him that day, and you made out like teenagers. It was fantastic and you craved more and more.

But he was a perfect gentleman, always appearing with a flower or some sweets, glad to be spending time with you without sexual expectations. Or at least that’s what you thought. But you weren’t like that, you were a horny human with a monster kink who was dating a minotaur… and you wanted to get destroyed.

But since he’s not doing anything to make that happen, you get out the big guns, aka: your biggest dildo. You are bouncing on it, on the edge of what feels like a great orgasm when the doorbell rings. You let out a short cry, startled, and consider not answering, but you know who it is. There’s no other who would show up at your house uninvited.

So you put up some pants, and a shirt and walk to the door. As expected, your minotaur boyfriend is there, with a cupcake in one hand and a rose in the other and looking incredibly handsome. You almost moan at the sight, your pussy still tingling.

You see the exact second his nostrils flare and he smells the juices still sticking to your pussy, still wet from your activities. You watch his eyes darken and his body tensing. He drops the flower and the muffin and lets out a tiny groan.

Then he launches.

You let out a screech when his big body collides with your middle and he pulls you up over his shoulder, grunting about mattresses and flat surfaces. You half-heatedly point to your right, to your bedroom, and he kicks the door open with his hoof.

You let out an amused huff, slapping his ass and getting a slap in return, which only makes you groan. That snaps him out of his trance, throwing you to the mattress and kneeling on the floor, pulling your legs to him until your covered pussy is in in front of his face and he’s looking at you for permission.

“Yes,” you moan.

He rips your yoga pants in the middle, his big rough tongue over your pussy in a second as he devours you and groans at the taste. “Were you playing with this pretty cunt?” You nod, rolling your hips against his exploring fingers, trying to get him to push them inside. “So naughty, fucking what’s mine…” His possessive tone makes your legs tremble at the same time he pushes two fingers inside of you and sucks on your clit while you cry out. “Give me the toy, darling. I want to see how pretty your pussy looks around it,” he grunts. You do as told.

He takes no time pushing the toy inside of you, cooing as you groan. He fucks it into your already welcoming heat, your pussy stretching to the brim as he grunts with each thrust as if it’s his own dick being feed into your hungry cunt. You can’t get enough of it, begging for more over and over.

And when his tongue joins, licking your clit at the same time he twists his wrist to get the toy to the perfect angle… You come messily, screaming his name as loud as possible as you lose control of your movements and roll your hips down against the toy and his warm tongue.

You open your eyes a few seconds later to find him lowering his pants and keeling between your open legs. “Now you take me,” he says with a growl, his dick in his hand, way bigger than the dildo…

Fuck yeah.