#fucker<3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[jeahreading]

hi hi! congratulations on a 100 followers!

may i request an Ingens Aequor 💙?

Thank youu!!!!

Here is

Something old - Kohl Surma

Something new - New colour changing transparent blush

Something borrowed - My favourite brown Lipstick

and something blue - Ground Lapis Lazuli which can be mixed with animal fat or water to form eyeshadow

(Disclaimer the last one is highly toxic and should strictly not be performed unless done by a professional is a given field, this was a historical method of colouring one's eyes in ancient Egypt and will likely cause eye irritation, and damage the eye)

Have fun!!!

[bitchfitch]

writing advice for characters with a missing eye: dear God does losing an eyes function fuck up your neck. Ever since mine crapped out I've been slowly and unconsciously shifting towards holding my head at an angle to put the good eye closer to the center. and human necks. are not meant to accommodate that sorta thing.

[specshroom]

Some rather unlucky investments have landed you in a tad of debt. However, you have know of a way to get out of it that requires very little work on your part.

The "Pussy Portal" company are always hiring after all.

All you have to do is have a portal directly connected to your pussy that any paying customer can use at any time. What could go wrong?

Just realized u didn't actually say it had to be monsterfucking specifically but I made it that anyway lmao.

At least you thought it was going to be very little work on your part.

But now you're not so sure as you sit on the train ride home trying to act like there isn't a monster cock reaching deep in your cunt.

You curse yourself for not reading the terms and conditions of the contract properly. You thought they were just being hyperbolic when they said "Prime Pussy Anywhere, Anytime!" Surely they would have down times right?

No. There are no down times unless you call in a sick day of which you only have few. You shoulda known that pay was too good to be true.

At least whoever's using your portal seems to only be cockwarming themselves for the time being, although that could change at any moment. Every jerk of the train makes you tense up as you try and act as nonchalant as possible. The cock sits so snug and warm inside you, it twitches every time you tense around it.

On the customer app your portal is advertised as specifically "Human pussy" so you like imagining the kinds of monsters who would pick that out specifically. You haven't figured out what monster this one might be, it's rather thick and hot with a very generous amount of precum.

When you get to your stop the train jerks more than you expected and you have to subtly cover your mouth and grab the railing to avoid making a sound. Your customer definitely felt you clench down in panic as their cock jumps in excitement.

They start grinding down slowly on the portal, their cock thrusting shallowly. You speed walk straight for the train station bathrooms and lock yourself inside a stall. Close call but you made it and just in time for their shallow thrusts to turn into full pumps into your slick pussy.

You lean your back on the wall of the stall as your cunt is now being thoroughly pounded by this stranger. You have to crouch to your knees as your orgasm builds up, rubbing your clit with one hand while the other covers your mouth.

Just as you're about to tip over the edge you feel something bigger at the base of the shaft bump against your pussy with each hard thrust. You gasp in realization but it's too late as the monster thrusts their knot past your entrance and you cum hard with a silent scream, spasming and shaking against the bathroom stall.

Their cum fills you to the brim, kept inside by their inflamed knot. They don't stop cumming for several minutes but when they do it takes you several more to compose yourself enough to step out of the bathroom on wobbly legs.

You make the slow and embarrassing walk home while the monster's knot sits snuggly inside your pussy, keeping all that warm cum inside you.

The knot inside you doesn't deflate fully until you're already home and making dinner. You have to grip the counter, shivering slightly as your customer pulls out and goes on with their day having been properly satisfied. The thought makes you feel a strange sense of pride. Just then your phone beeps with a notification from the Portal companies app.

The customer left a tip!

How nice! They also left a review on your page,

"10/10. Best stress relief. Would fuck again."

[wuntrum]

what if a femme robot liked it when her butch creator performed routine maintenance tasks on her (in a sexual way) (and they were both girls)? i guess you'll have to read my new (free) comic to find out!!

[antomatkoen]

🩸🩸🩸

freak behaviour 🤦‍♂️

[specsthesecond]

Werewolf boyfriend who tries to be dominant with you but fails every time.

He wants to be the growling primal Dom he thinks you want but he just can't because every time he's pounding into you his brain short-circuits and he just becomes a good obedient puppy for you.

He's trying so hard to keep his dominance while he fucks you and then you just have to look up at him with your beautiful fucked out eyes and moan,

"Ah~ so good, such a good boy."

And he crumbles instantly, whining into your neck as you giggle and scratch behind his ear. He knows your little "Awww" isn't supposed to be condescending but it still makes his cock twitch and his pace quicken. He whines and cries as he frantically pounds your addictive pussy. You hold him so close to you, breathlessly panting out praises as your climax approaches.

"That's it", "So good for me", "Making me feel so good, baby"

He hates the way his growls always trail off into whines when he's about to cum. His stupid tail wagging and his tongue lapping at your throat like the dumb dog he is. He hates that he cums before you, he thinks it's weak, even though he always keeps pounding until you cum around his knot no matter how overstimulated he gets.

He hates the way you control him even when you're getting fucked dumb on his cock, and you don't even know it! You don't even know how much he loves it when you cuddle him close, kiss his face and say things like,

"Thank you, thank you baby." "Love you s'much" "Treat me so well"

The way you sing these praises and don't even notice the effects it has on him makes him so mad. It makes him want to fuck you even harder, makes him want to assert dominance and put you in your place. But he knows that if he tried he would just end up being a whining drooling mess, mindlessly bucking into your pussy like the needy puppy he is.

🦴υ´• ﻌ •`υ

[badasserywomen]

I love my two murder tanks

[eraserbread]

couldn't focus on anything all day bc I was too busy thinking about satoru and his foreign girlfriend :o

you two met, but could hardly speak the same language... so, of course, you let your bodies talk.

one hookup after another led to sneaking around just to spend time together. you're in japan on a teaching job, all things included, and satoru is... a teacher as well -- at least, that's what you understand from it all.

he's obnoxiously adamant about his strength, but he was often so excited explaining It to you that you just couldn't understand. he's such a puppy, piecing together his biggest words and obscene phrases for you to try and translate.

since you both have that teaching archetype, most of your time spent together is enlightening and purposeful. but, satoru likes it the best when you bake for him.

him and his sweet tooth. he could eat an entire tray of desserts in one sitting and still ask for more. the sitting favorite in your nearly non-existent apartment kitchen was cake. all kinds -- layered, plain, cupcakes, and pops, he's certainly not picky. he'll sit and watch you make it for ages, then be right next to you once you deem it cool enough to eat, though he thinks you're saying 'it's too cold to eat'.

today, he's trying brownies.

and of course, his stupidly long fingers are in your pan as soon as you take them from the oven.

"they're hot!" you slap his long fingers away when he tries to grab.

"then, give me one."

so you'd step in front of him, pressing yourself between his hips and the countertop. using your body as a shield to protect your sacred work.

instead of digging into your brownies, he pouts and rests his head on your shoulder, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. he's not giving his words any enunciation so it sounds like he says, "if that's what I can have in the meantime,"

you pause for a second, eyebrows furrowing. then, you cave, turning around and asking him, "what?"

"i don't mind having you in the meantime," he replies this time, crystal clear and with a weird look in his bright eyes. your romance is still too young to pick up on every one of his hints, but you can definitely tell his intentions by the way he's trailing his fingers from your hips, down to your...

it's awkward as hell, but you bite your lip, staring past his shoulder and not into his all-seeing gaze. "sex?"

"mhm."

that night, satoru felt hotter as he fucked you easily, hovering over you in missionary with a hand pressed to your cheek. sweat was beading from his light brow, and even he was losing his breath.

"hot. so hot." you moan, eyes pressed shut to try and shun your quickly approaching orgasm. you knew your boyfriend could go on for hours, that's definitely not you.

"thank you babygirl. love it when you call me that."

"no, 's fucking hot."

he kisses you quiet, hips shuddering as they guide the perfection - literal perfection of his cock inside of you. it's making the heat worse, you're left panting against his sweet lips.

and when you're both done and dripping in condensation, brownies are calling your name. it's only when you leave the bedroom, does the heat wave engulf the entirety of your body.

fucking oven.

you left it on. there's no way your shitty one-bedroom could regulate the heat in the middle of summer.

satoru starts panting like a dog, pretty face screwed up in worry as he glances down at you.

"hot." he complains, but does nothing to fix the situation. your left eye twitches.

naked, you head back to the kitchen, flipping the oven off and checking for damage. when you turn around, satoru is at your tail... like a puppy. you give him a smile.

"brownies are still hot."

[chiangyorange]

chain faces pt2

forest whimsy (here!!)

w stands for wrangler (here !!)

[satansdirtiestangel]

In a monster fucker mood right now, just imagining being the free use human for a clan of orcs!!!

Each orc has a huge, vainy, cock, barely covered by a loincloth made of animal skin and all you have to do is give one of them a single look, one that screams ‘fuck me’ and his cock is already standing at attention.

The first orc pulls you into his lap, right in the middle of everything and pushes his huge cock into your tight human hole….you’ll be moaning loudly and a second orc notices. He comes over to play with your chest. Massaging it in his huge hands, playing with your nipples, while you bounce like a good little bitch on the first orc’s cock- and a third will join in the fun. Kneeling down in-front of you, his mouth sucking and licking the mixed slick that’s falling out of your stuffed hole and all you can do is stay there and take it.

All while 5-6 more orcs simply watch. Lazily stroking their cocks, waiting patiently for the first to finish so they can have a turn :)

[sabeedraws]

trying to parent a sneaky little hybrid alien baby is a lot harder than they anticipated :(

[frigidarchivist]

Go on. Partake. Enjoy your boops. After all... it might just be your last.

[sweetmapple]

New ick unlocked

[multch]

Thoughts.

Art the clown x reader [18+]

CW: actually smut \ afab masterbation

Your boss admires your dedication to staying back late to finish off repairing most nights. What he doesn't know is your affiliation with the ‘Miles County Killer’.

Who knew sewing pays in a good view…

You whipped back as the bloody black and white suit whacked you in the face. If art was anything- it certainly wasn't subtle. The smell was revolting but what did you expect? Daisies? Of course he’d smell like a dead animal, he’s a murderer for Christ's sake! Still, you would've appreciated it if he at least let you set down the jacket you had to repair first- or had the decency to cover up a little instead of walking around the studio with everything out on display.

Tonight marks the 3rd year since you had first encountered this killer clown. You worked at a humble costume shop- Often very late to scramble enough of a paycheck to pay rent, utilities, whatever, ect.

On the strange night you two met, he had walked in- completely skipping past you- and searched for some sewing supplies. He went so far as to have even checked out the staff room you had accidentally left unlocked. Regardless, he eventually waddled up to your counter and dinged the bell on your desk several times. He had waved his hands around like a maniac trying to make sense until you realised he was gesturing towards the sewing needle in your hand. If he wasn’t so charming, maybe you would’ve called the police on him right then and there.

Maybe you should’ve...

Since then, you always patched up his ripped and tattered clown costume and he would repay you by helping out around the shop when you worked late. Repairing shelves, moving boxes and pestering you incessantly while doing so. 

It was a shock when you had first discovered his more malicious side. The ”Miles county killer” plastered on every television screen for miles. You couldn’t tell what had scared you more; Art’s heinous acts or the simple fact that he seemed to spare you.

But why?

The question haunted you. Your moral compass never seemed too correct however you understood the evil that seemed to possess him was devilish. What you couldn’t understand was what a being so sinful could've thought about a seamstress that made him show not only mercy, but companionship…

Honk! Honk!

Art could’ve killed you with how well he’d scare you. They didn’t call him the ‘Terrifier’ for nothing you thought. You were just minding your business- lost in thought- until Art practically made you jump out of your skin from his infuriating infatuation with his stupid little hand horn.

He had crept right up behind you and placed himself close enough to feel the cold air escape his lungs. You didn’t know how you didn’t notice but his horn was practically touching your ear. The sound it let out was more than enough to make your eyes widen. It had startled you so much you fell backwards on your stool. Luckily for you though, Art was there to catch you.

His skin was smooth and frigid. His hands having responded by grasping your waist with his rough hands- You were accidentally pressed right up against his naked chest. 

His touch felt electric. The contrast between your human heat and his icy exposure was a feeling like no other. He helped you back up onto your seat but by then it was too late. Fuck.

Seeing him naked was one thing but feeling his bare touch was another. Your minor interest in him had easily turned into obsession over the course of the last few years. A mysterious stranger showing up out of the blue. Saturated in blood. Torn up and often mutilated.  How couldn't you be intrigued?

It felt like there was no one else in the world he treated like you.

You felt special.

Protected, even.

You tried your best to resume your repair but by the time you reached the hole by the gusset of his suit, you had lost it.

*

Maybe excusing yourself to “go to the bathroom” might’ve been a bit overkill but there was no way you wouldn’t melt in the heat that you felt just simply looking at him. His playful taunts. The way he bats his eyelashes at you. Even his disgusting black smile!

These ‘normal’ acts of his felt misconstrued into one big flirty mess. 

Despite your efforts, you were clearly just too horny to stop. Every time you think about him in this moment, you couldn’t help but remember how he’s outside right now in nothing but a mask and his flimsy little top hat. In times like this, you couldn’t help but shake your fist in the air at Art’s infamous refusal to wear anything under his suit.

(You tried to convince him once by buying him a pair of boxers, but in retaliation he had ripped out the crotch and walked out- giving you the full view of his “pencil”)

Maybe it was the sleep deprivation talking but deciding to work one out sounded great right now.

You lent up against the red tile wall of the staff bathroom. It was cold. Perfect.

Slowly fondling yourself, your hands snake around your skin. One climbing up your stomach to slip under your bra. The other sneaking down the waistband of your shorts.

God, he made you so wet from just one touch. You slid in one finger first- wincing back at your contraction around so little. It made you only more hungry for what your eyes had feasted on so often yet you had never been given the chance to taste it yourself.

Seeing it made you understand why this clown always went commando because he really was hiding away a whole balloon animal. It was BIG.

Imagining it made your mouth feel empty..

You slip in another 2 fingers. Thrusting into yourself enough to make you press hard against the wall behind you. You were so cold but inside was a warmth you wanted him to feel so badly.

Your eyes squeezed down hard. You wanted to see him. His face. His body, as he thrusted into you.

You wanted him to trap you beneath his form with his inhuman strength.

To be scared he'd rip you in half if you ran away was a major turn on for you -the idea of becoming less than a victim of his by becoming a slave for his enjoyment.

Imagining it made your pussy throb, feeling empty despite your aggressive movement…

You tried to muffle your moans but the more you indulged in your fantasy, the more you struggled to show some self restraint.

A fourth finger, then a fifth.

Pounding harder and faster into your core, you thought back to all the toys you brought reimagining them as his girth. 

Art was more than a friend to you. You ached for him nightly. You felt him in your core. You've dreamt of his touch and woken up in a hot, sticky sweat because of him.

You wanted to be honest with him but only Hell knows what he'd do to you if he didn't feel the same.

The possibilities made you salivate. Being his victim would be an indulgent death for sure..

You feel yourself very quickly feeling your release build as an air of tension fills the room. It's sickly sweet.

Rubbing your pretty little pussy until it's puffy and squirting when he's in the room outside was your tipping point.

You let out one final wince before your knees give out- causing you to crouch down on the frozen tile floor. 

You can't help but imagine it's him holding you after a scene of absolute passion.

*

It's only been 10 minutes since you had excused yourself but once you had made your way back out, Art was nowhere to be seen.

You're embarrassed to say the least but you decide to push forward with your plans for tonight. 

You turn around to close the bathroom door behind you only to find a familiar face greeting you instead.

There stood Art the clown, leaning up against the wall with a shit eating grin- All while still being fully naked.

Oh god no…

[asleepinawell]

me wearily opening twitter: please show me just one nice thing for once

twitter: baldur's gate 3 lets you fuck a bear

me: you know what? good enough

[specsthesecond]

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°

It's a quiet afternoon, one spent reading your new book, mending some of your torn clothes and dozing off occasionally.

A lazy day if ever there was. You're not worried about cooking dinner tonight because you have company coming over with their own. You finish stitching up the hole in one of your thick trousers and gaze outside. It's about time now, if he arrives too late, then he'll have to walk back home in the dark. You wouldn't let him do that, it's a little ridiculous, considering he's a huge orc who knows the woods perfectly well but you'd still force him to sleep on the couch before letting him leave.

That idea makes you smile, such a massive man snuggled up on your old reliable couch. Just when you think you should step outside and look for your friend, you hear the distinct jingle of horse reins and a frightened neigh from outside.

This has you on edge immediately. The only times you've heard that is when the king's men search the perimeter between the Orc and Human territories, making sure no one is breaking the land treaties between the two. You hate these men, they claim to be here for your safety but they make you feel the polar opposite whenever they look down at you on their high horses.

You pull on your boots, take a deep breath before stepping outside, preparing yourself for the condescending look the knights always give you, along with thinly veiled sexual remarks about how it must be so hard for you, all alone out here in these scary woods.

That, however, is not what you see when you walk outside. Instead, you feel ice shoot into your veins.

Red seeps into the white snow as an orc, your orc, clutches the wound where an arrow protrudes out of his upper chest. The horse kicks and neigh's as the knight riding it reloads his crossbow.

The ice in your veins suddenly boils, you grab your bow resting near the door along with a handful of arrows and run outside. Notching an arrow, you don't even announce yourself before letting it go. It whizzes through the air and hits the knights' crossbow right out of his hands, he yelps as it falls to the ground, turning angrily towards the offender.

"Get off my land!"

The bleeding Orc looks just as shocked as the knight, who reins his horse back in an attempt to compose himself.

"My lady, I found this beast roaming near your home. I was only-"

"I'll take care of it. Leave."

You're trying to sound as sturdy as possible but it's hard when your friend is bleeding out in front of you.

"but I- "

"It's my land. He's mine. Leave."

Your voice is unwavering, only getting angrier with every syllable as your bow string grows more taught. The knight looks back at the orc, hatred burning, then he looks back at you sceptically. You're itching to let your arrow fly right between his hateful eyes. He's not wearing his helmet, it would be easy.

He's clearly more vulnerable than he's used to, with only his sword at his side, which he couldn't even unsheathe before you let your arrow fly. With a scoff, the knight pulls on his horse's reins and retreats down the snowy slope. You stand stock still, skin shivering under the thin material of your tunic. You have to hold back the urge to shoot your arrow into his back before he disappears into the woods.

Slinging your bow over your shoulder, you sprint over to your friend, who heaves heavy breaths while clutching his chest. You struggle to lift him onto his feet, he grunts at every movement and it makes you want to cry. When you eventually get him up, you both stagger towards the open front door. It's slow and arduous but you eventually get past the door frame and slam the heavy wood shut, dropping your bow to carry his heavy body to the couch.

He slumps down on the couch with a groan. You almost sob with relief when you realise the arrow is in his right side, not his left. Fool of a knight had worse aim than you thought. It doesn't look that deep but there's a lot of blood seeping out.

He's still in life or death mode as tears of pain spill over his pretty eyelashes. You try to calm his heaving breaths, placing a hand on his cheek to bring his attention to you instead of the arrow in his chest. You wipe his tears away and hush comforting words he doesn't even understand. When his breathing slows considerably and his attention is only on you, you wrench the arrow out of his chest in one quick pull.

He howls in pain, and you sob apologies at him, shuffling his overcoat off to unbutton his tunic, the way his blood clings to the material and his skin in sticky strings makes you nauseous.

You lay him down and run off to your small bathroom. You come back with a bunch of bandages, disinfecting ointment, a warm wash cloth and a numbing ointment.

There's so much blood. Your hands are covered in the mixture of blood and water as you dump the cloth in the bowl of lukewarm water. You clean his wound with the wet wash cloth before pouring on a more than generous amount of disinfecting ointment. It burns and he groans, clutching the couch pillow next to his head. This won't be fatal, if you can clean and stitch it properly.

You slather on the numbing cream with the tiny application stick and wait for it to take effect. You turn to your sewing kit on the tiny table in front of the hearth and try in vain to stop your hands from shaking while disinfecting the needle and thread. It doesn't work, you can't stop the trembling. What if you don't disinfect it enough and the wound becomes infected? What if you can't save him like he saved you? What if he dies because of you? What if-

Warmth covers your trembling hand, the heavy weight of the orcs hand grounding you. You look at the orc lying on your couch incredulously, he looks back with a tired smile, sluggishly blinking at you. How can he be so warm when he's bleeding out?

You clutch his hand and take a deep breath. The pounding of your heart is still loud but your hands are calm enough to thread the needle. You wipe the excess numbing ointment off and carefully make the first incision. This isn't completely new to you but seeing the bloody red flesh underneath his green skin makes this much harder than when you've had to stitch up yourself.

As you pull the curved needle in and out of his skin, you can tell he's trying not to grunt or flinch even though it hurts.

When you make the final incision, you both let out heavy sighs. He rests his head back on the pillow, closing his eyes, as you bandage the wound with gauze and more antibacterial ointment. You look up at his resting eyes and when you realise he hasn't moved for a while you panic and pat his cheek a bit desperately.

He grunts awake, grasping your hand and squinting at you like you just interrupted a midday nap. When he sees your teary eyes and concerned expression, he softens and huffs amusedly. You yank back your hand, anger simmering, how can he think this situation is amusing?

You hate how he's barged into your life and lit an uncomfortable fire in your chest that you can't put out. There's so much more to be confused and fearful about now with him in your life. What if the knight comes back with reinforcements? Would you have to fight to be together? What does 'together' even mean?

You let a hot tear fall to the ground and sniffle angrily. It's all so overwhelming, before him, you never needed to feel this much. His hand reaches out and you feel the warmth envelope your cheek, lifting your gaze to his. His eyes hold so much he could never translate, yet you find you understand perfectly. He wipes away an oncoming tear, only for you to let out another sob.

You clutch his hand to your cheek, your other hand holds his forearm close,

"I think I love you."

You utter into his palm, the devastating truth weighs heavy on you. You don't actually intend for him to ever know what it means but when you look up at his wide eyes and shocked face, you realise he didn't need a translation.

He leans up on the shoulder of his uninjured side and pulls you closer with the hand on your cheek. You're halfway through reprimanding him for moving too much when your words catch in your throat as he pulls you inches away from his face. He mumbles something in orcish and although you don't know what he said, you're pretty sure you know what he means.

You lightly touch your forehead to his before, rather timidly, kissing him. He kisses back with purpose, it takes a minute for you to properly ease into the intimate action, the soft warmth of his lips makes it easier than you'd ever imagined. He keeps his movements slow and gentle, you feel his tusks against your cheeks as you deepen the kiss.

When you separate for air he grins and nuzzles his forehead to yours, it's such a playful gesture, it makes you laugh rather breathlessly. You've never cried so much before meeting him, but you also never laughed as much. He places cheeky kisses on your forehead, nose and lips before you have to push his scruffy stubbled face away so you can hide your own burning hot face in your hands just to console your rapidly beating heart. He rests his head back onto the couch pillow with the same tired eyes as before, except now a dumb, self-satisfied grin adorns his face.

You ignore his amusement, climbing onto your way-too-small couch next to him. You lay your head over his heart, hearing the rhythmic beats. He holds you close and lets out a pleased grumble before his eyes flutter closed and he dozes off once more. You stay awake for some time, staring at the orc on your couch, his pretty carved tusks, his soft lips, his bare chest, his dark hair. It's sometime before you eventually doze off against his chest, lulled asleep by the up and down motion of his chest as he dreams.

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°

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