ghost-reader07

[ghost-reader07]

GLITTER & GOLD

pairing. yandere!dragon x gn!reader

synopsis. the expectations on you were high, to tame the father of dragons is no easy feat however you are bonded to him the moment you were born. enrolled into the obsidian academy, you're the honor student... except you keep failing one class, all because of your stubborn dragon.

content warnings. yandere tendencies, fantasy academy setting (not minors, think of university), obsessive behaviours, age-gap (he's a dragon.), enemies to lovers, angst, top student x deliquent concept, blood, gore, hurt/comfort.

word count. 4.6k

you were meant to be something greater, until him. they used to call you ‘blessed by the grove.’

you remembered the way the elderroots used to move for you before you even reached out. how the winds shifted when you breathed, how the water would curl around your fingers like it was waiting for your command. 

you never struggled — not like the others who labored for hours to coax a seedling into bloom. nature listened to you before you even spoke.

and your family held pride in that. an ancient druidic line, revered by the council, guardians of balance and law. you were their brightest, their future, their prodigy.

so when your name was chosen for the obsidian academy, there were no tears, only applause. you didn’t disappoint them, not at first.

obsidian academy was the crown jewel of the continent; half carved into the mountains, half built into the clouds. the best of the best were sent there. druids, mages, shamans, elementalists. you arrived in your green robes, marked by sacred ink, and within a week, everyone knew who you were.

the prodigy.

the whisper in the halls. they said you were destined to ascend to high druid before you even turned twenty-five.

you mastered beast-speech by your third week, wove sunlight into living armour by your second month. you were the youngest to ever summon a forest guardian without channeling through a stone. everything you touched bent to your will.

until him. until lennox.

you met him during dragon communion — an elite elective offered only to the most advanced. you weren’t even supposed to be eligible, but they made an exception for you. of course they did. you’d never fail a trial.

they didn’t warn you that the father of dragons had been summoned for the bonding ceremony.

no one expected him to show up at all. the father was ancient, untamable, above the rest. he wasn’t a student — he wasn’t even mortal in the way the rest of you were. but he appeared at the communion with fiery scales, golden eyes that saw too much, and a smile that could have been mistaken for kindness if you didn’t notice the way he enjoyed everyone trembling in his wake.

he shifted into his humanoid form and stood before you when the bonds were casted. the entire room held its breath but you knew immediately; he was yours, given by the gods. but then he laughed, mocked the bond, sneered at the gods and he refused you. openly, publicly. 

the prodigy and the dragon, a broken bond before it even began. and that was the beginning of the unraveling.

he was everything you weren’t. 

disobedient, wild, arrogant, untouchable. and somehow, impossibly, he matched you in every trial. you both aced fire-weaving, he beat you in skybinding. you broke even in battle casting. the professors were thrilled, but the whispers shifted.

“he’s testing them.”

“why haven’t they tamed him yet?”

“maybe they’re not as gifted as we thought.”

your family wrote letters. they started polite, encouraging. then came the warnings; “remember who you are.” “you are not meant to fail.” “do not embarrass the line.”

you tried. gods, you really did try. but lennox would never submit.

he called you leaf-blooded when he was irritated, sun-child when he was teasing, and little druid when he was angry. he met you in every class with that lazy grin and that spark in his eyes that promised he’d make it just hard enough to bruise your pride.

but he never left your side.

he always picked you first for pair trials, always found you when it stormed, always hovered when the teachers pushed too hard, always watched you when you bled. enemies, but never strangers.

there were moments, quiet ones, when stopped being cruel.

like when he pressed his forehead to yours after you collapsed during ether channeling, grounding your breath with his. or when he took a lightning strike for you during the summoning games and shrugged it off like it meant nothing.

still, no one cared about your moments. they cared that you couldn’t tame him. they cared that the bond stayed wild. they cared that you, the druid blessed by the grove, couldn’t bend fate to your will.

your professors pulled you aside, your classmates whispered louder, your family stopped writing. “you’re slipping,” they said. “tame him, or step aside.” “he’s mocking us all through you.” and you started to believe them.

but then there were the nights. when he would find you outside the dormitories, sitting beneath the night-blooming trees you’d once coaxed into life. when he’d sit beside you in silence, like he didn’t want to be anywhere else. when he’d say, so quietly you almost missed it. “i didn’t refuse you because i hate you. druid.”

“then why?” you’d whisper back.

“because you were born to bind things. and i was born to break them.”

you never knew what to say to that. you still don’t. but every day, you feel the bond thrumming louder. it doesn’t fade nor does it wither. it waits. and gods help you, you’re starting to wait for him too.

at least that was before the argument.

｡  ｡  ｡  ｡  ｡  ｡

the call came while he was sleeping.

buried deep beneath the roots of the sleeping forest, where even the wind didn’t dare to breathe too loud, lennox stirred.

at first, it was faint. a vibration in the marrow of his bones, a soft tug behind the ribs. but then it tightened — pulling, insistent, not loud but certain. like fate had reached into the hollows of his chest and begun to tug.

and that could only mean one thing. a bond.

his jaw tightened. the moss beneath him curled and shriveled from the sudden spike in heat rolling off his skin. the forest, his only sanctuary, woke with unease. he opened his eyes, golden and glowing in the dark. 

someone had been born for him, and he hated that.

the obsidian academy is exactly as arrogant as he remembers. clean-cut spires, glimmering runes, students walking in pre-determined patterns, pretending they’re free. the place reeks of purpose. of law.

no one sees him arrive. one moment, they were preparing for the annual dragon communion, all their ceremonial candles and pompous rites in place. the next — he was there, no portal, no flames. just a sudden, bone-deep stillness as every dragon and druid in the ring froze.

some fell to one knee instinctively. others backed away. but you, you didn’t flinch. 

you stood dead center, spine straight, wrapped in a druid’s green, your hands relaxed at your sides like you weren’t even remotely afraid. you looked at him like you’d been waiting.

and that’s when it happened. his heart, cold and ancient and flame-hardened, thumped. hard. then again, and again. and his first thought wasn’t confusion or fear. it was anger, not at you, but at fate.

because he knew in that instant that he could love you. that he would love you. that you had been carved from something too rare, too right to be for anyone but him. and the bond confirmed.

but love tied to a chain? that he would not accept. he refuses it, out loud, without hesitation. the word rolls off his tongue like venom. “not interested,” he says, smirking, voice lazy. the murmurs began instantly. a fated bond, rejected? in public?

he could feel your gaze on his back, sharp as steel, burning into him. he didn’t look back because if he did, he’d fall.

the next few weeks became something of a ritual. you avoided him, or tried to. but he always found you. 

dragon theory? he sat behind you, close enough to breathe down your neck if he wanted to. skybinding? you were paired together — he requested it; he never said it out loud, just walked up and stood next to you until the instructor gave up.

battle casting? he taunted you, blocked your strikes too easily, laughed when you got frustrated. he even let you trip him once, just to see the look of triumph in your eyes.

you were irritated, furious, righteous.

and every time your voice rose, every time your magic flared, his heart pounded louder in his chest. not because of the bond, but because of you. because your fire was real. because the bond wasn’t a leash — it was a mirror, and for the first time in centuries, lennox saw someone who might actually survive him.

maybe even break him.

he started calling you names, soft at first, teasing. “leaf-blood.”, “sun-child”, “little druid.”

you snapped at him once, told him to get over himself. stormed off with twigs tangled in your hair and fury glowing in your eyes. he couldn’t stop smiling for hours.

he didn’t need to follow you at night. but he did.

he perched on the edge of the upper towers when you went to the greenhouse, watching you whisper to the plants in the old language. he shadowed your path when you walked the southern woods, careful to never step too loud. he listened when you cried, he memorised the names of everyone you spoke to. he marked every person who made you flinch.

especially the ones who spoke down to you.

and when word started spreading, when the instructors started whispering that you couldn’t tame him, that the ‘prodigy’ was slipping, he watched you break quietly beneath it.

you didn’t tell anyone.

but he saw it. in the way you hunched your shoulders when you passed your professors. in how you started shrinking in every room he walked into.

he wanted to kill every last one of them for making you feel small. but you didn’t want saving. not yet, so he waited.

until the boy at the southern field opened his mouth.

it was nothing at first.

a simple training exercise. you and that beast-handler apprentice sparring with summoned familiars. harmless, controlled. he was watching from a hill above, claws sunk into the dirt to keep himself still.

then the boy said it. “you should just let someone else handle him. you were never meant for a dragon anyway.” 

and you flinched, not in anger. in hurt. and lennox saw red that day.

｡  ｡  ｡  ｡  ｡  ｡

you swore like you popped a blood vessel. lennox had just burned the southern training fields. 

you had just finished a brutal day of combat trials; sore, scuffed, and covered in dried blood that isn’t entirely yours. and lennox had decided to add salt to the wound by not helping — he watched and burned the training fields instead.

you passed the trial, barely.

the mentors had stopped giving out expectations for you, they say they understand that bonding with a powerful dragon such as lennox takes time, but they began doubting your capabilities, and it hurts.

your mentor specifically shook her head at the scene in front of her. “you were more competent when it was just you.” a direct blow to you, aimed at your bond.

you find him waiting outside, arms crossed, leaning against the wall like he hasn’t failed to destroy everything you’ve built. like he isn’t pretending the bond doesn’t mean anything.

and something inside you finally breaks.

“you could’ve helped me,” you say, voice quiet but seething. lennox only lifts an eyebrow. “you passed, didn’t you?”

you laugh once, sharp and bitter. “is that your standard now? ‘barely survive and move on’?” he shrugs at your words. “you want me to hold your hand during combat trials? come on, druid, you’re better than that.” there was that infuriating nickname he gives you, just to annoy you.

“don’t do that.”

your voice cuts in sharper now. “don’t talk to me like i’m just some weak student begging for your approval. i’ve carried this bond. i’ve defended it. i’ve defended you.”

he looks away, jaw tightening. but he still says nothing. that silence feels worse than the thousand insults he would use to give you.

“gods, lennox. i’m exhausted.” you huffed out, tired and frustrated with him. “i’ve been failing this class, my body is wrecked, the instructors whisper every time i walk into the room because the ‘father of dragons’ still refuses to act like a bounded mount.”

his eyes flash gold at your statement. “i’m not a mount.” 

“i know that!” you finally yelled. “i never treated you like one. i never wanted to own you. but i can’t keep standing here alone while you hide behind your pride like it’s some kind of shield.”

he steps forward, voice low, claws now balled into fists. “you think i’m hiding? you think i’m doing this to hurt you?” you didn’t back down however.

“no, i think you’re scared. i think you’ve spent so long being untouchable that the idea of someone actually needing you makes you want to tear your own skin off.” you spat out. he flinches — ever so slightly you almost missed it.

“you think i want this bond?” he scoffed. “you think i chose you?”

you stare at him like you don’t recognise him anymore. that one hurts, deeply. and he knows it. but you inhale and you don’t break.

“no,” you whispered. “but i did.”

he opens his mouth, but you stopped him.

“i chose you. i fought for this bond. i defended you when the council wanted to reassign me. i stood between you and every person who said you were too arrogant to be worth riding. and what do i get for it?” 

your voice wavers now, fury giving way to heartache. “you treat me like i’m the enemy.” your fists clench. “stop making it seem like i’m manipulating you when all i’ve done is to care for you.”

silence. it’s deafening.

lennox doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. he just watches you with that same unreadable look that’s been driving you mad for months. you shake your head slowly, tears hot and unwelcome behind your eyes.

“i can’t do this anymore if you’re not willing to meet me halfway.” you walk past him, and he doesn’t stop you.

you passed a group of students who immediately turned away, whispering. one of them didn’t bother to lower her voice. 

“if the gods gave me a dragon, i’d know what to do with him.”

you kept walking and you swore that each step was heavier than the last.

you didn’t plan to go into kyrena woods, but your legs moved before your brain could stop them. you just needed to get away. from the academy, from the whispers, from him. and from the sickening echo in your chest that told you he’d heard everything — and didn’t care.

kyrena woods was forbidden for trainees. thick with unnatural fog, sharp-barked trees, and creatures that fed on broken magic. you didn’t care however. branches whipped your face, leaves curled at your steps like they knew you didn’t belong.

you walked for what felt like hours until you collapsed near a stream. your hands trembled. you had given everything. discipline, focus, time, pain, and still.. still they blamed you. all because your dragon wasn’t a weapon. he was a person, and a complex one at that.

maybe the bond was a mistake.

you were still thinking that when you heard the first branch snap. it came from the trees; massive, shifting wrong in the way nightmare logic does. too many limbs, eyes like drowned moons — a glimmerbeast, they called it. it fed on shame, on guilt, on magical exhaustion, and you were the perfect prey.

you stood, cast your first spell. it failed.

the second one worked, but barely — roots tangling one of its limbs. it roared, lashed out, and its claws slammed across your ribs, slicing through fabric and skin like paper. you flew backward, hit the tree hard enough to drop your breath in one horrible sound.

pain.

you tried to stand, one leg crumpled under you. the monster stalked forward as you whispered a protective charm. it sparked only to fizzle, you were too drained.

you realised then, that you might die here. not in battle, not as a hero. just as a failed student, a disappointment, a forgotten name on a marble wall.

and then you screamed. not for help, definitely not for lennox. you screamed because of the pain, the hopelessness, the rage at your wasted potential. it was too much all at once. and that broke the dam.

somewhere miles away, something ancient inside the father of dragons snapped. 

lennox flew like a meteor out of the sky, trailing smoke and thunder. he didn’t even land properly — just crashed into the forest in his full dragon form, splintering trees as his massive claws dug into the earth.

the glimmerbeast turned, and roared.

he roared back, not just sound, but magic and fury. flame from the depths of the world and it incinerated in seconds. when it was gone, he shifted — barefoot, blood-spattered, trembling. he dropped to his knees beside you.

“why..” his voice cracked. “why the hell would you come here alone?” you barely managed to speak. “i had to. everyone thinks i’m failing. maybe i am.” 

his jaw tightened. his hand, warm and clawed, pressed over your bleeding side. “don’t you ever,” he growled, “say that again.” you looked up at him, eyes glassy. 

“you let them tear me apart.”

“because i thought if i pushed you away, i could save you from me.” his voice was low now, shaking. he lowered his head until your foreheads touched. “but i didn’t know what it would feel like to lose you.” he whispered.

you looked up at him, taking a deep shaky breath. “then don’t. choose me. for once, choose us” you murmured as he gulped. “i will,” he promised, but you were hesitant, still unsure if he could keep to it — though a glimmer of hope does wash over you. 

his change of heart, it would lead to a better outcome, wouldn’t it?

｡  ｡  ｡  ｡  ｡  ｡

you recovered slowly. the healers said that you were lucky to be alive after what that thing in the forest did to you. you don’t remember most of it. but you do remember him.

the moment lennox found you, falling out of the sky like the storm had come alive just to protect you. his panic, his rage, his warmth as he carried you back.

since then, things have... shifted.

he hasn't fought the bond. he hasn't pushed you away.

he walks beside you now. watches your sparring sessions. brings you your satchel when you forget it. sometimes says nothing at all, but he always looks at you like you're the only thing left in the world that makes sense.

the academy took that as a sign. but not everyone sees his submission as a success.

you're standing before the instructors, offering a demonstration of tactical control over bonded beasts. but you’re not partnered with lennox today. he refused to perform for them. silently. politely. without argument.

you didn’t force him. so, you’re alone. again. and they noticed.

as the class ends, the courtyard fills with murmurs. the instructors begin their reviews. you stand there, hands clasped behind your back, heart beating with that quiet, bitter familiarity.

then comes the voice you knew would start it. "strange how the prodigy can command a dozen creatures, but not the one meant for them," says instructor rethar, flipping through his evaluation scroll with disinterest.

a few students snicker.

"the father of dragons, no less," another instructor murmurs, not even hiding her smirk. "you’d think someone with your reputation would’ve had him flying laps around the peaks by now."

"maybe it’s not him that’s broken," one of the older students offers, tone dripping.

that one cuts a little deeper. you smile faintly, not because it’s funny. but because it’s not new.

"are we still pretending this pairing makes sense?" another student mutters louder, tossing their gear down. "they call them the chosen one, but they can’t even get their dragon to obey a simple command."

"maybe the gods made a mistake."

and that’s the one that does it. not for you — but for him. lennox had been leaning quietly against the far colonnade, arms crossed, silent, unreadable, just as he always is now.

but when that last comment falls, his posture changes. subtle, still. like a predator flicking its tail before it lunges.

you feel it, not through sound or movement, but through the bond. a tightening, a pressure behind your ribs. his magic doesn't rise, it coils. you speak before he can.

"it's fine," you say, calmly, evenly, to no one in particular. "let them talk." your voice carries. even lennox hears it. and for a moment... you think that’s it. you think maybe he’ll let it go.

later, you sit alone on the outer balcony, the breeze tugging at your sleeves. the sun has begun to dip, casting long shadows across the spires. you think about what they said. it doesn’t break you, but it cracks something.

you gave everything to this bond. your pride, your blood, your faith. and still, they mock. you hear the stone shift behind you.

you don’t turn. “i’m not angry,” you say quietly. lennox steps beside you. “you should be.”

you shrug. “what’s the point?”

his voice is soft. “you’re the strongest person in this place. they hate you for it.”

you smile, dry. “i don’t feel strong.”

he tilts his head. “i see you clearer than they do.” and he says it with a kind of certainty that feels like a vow. you finally look up at him.

“you’ve changed,” you murmur.

he kneels. “no.” a pause. then softer, too soft: “i’ve only stopped pretending.” the night is warm. you’re in your chambers, writing a letter you’ll never send.

outside, the bells begin to ring.

you move to the window just in time to see the main spire of the academy collapse in a wave of black flame. you freeze. screams erupt below, shadows scatter like ants.

and above it all, wings. lennox. in his full form, soaring, silent. and beneath his fire, the very stones melt. you tear out the door, heart racing, wind screaming in your ears as you run toward the courtyard.

flames engulf the halls, the sky glows with ruin. you find him in the center of it all — human again, walking slowly through the wreckage, bare-chested, covered in soot.

“lennox!” he turns, eyes glowing. not with madness, but clarity. “they hurt you,” he says simply. you stare at him, breathless, the weight of what’s happened crashing into you.

“you burned the academy.” he nods once. “they made you doubt yourself.” he steps closer, assessing you. “they shamed you for not ‘taming’ me.” his hand rises, brushing soot-streaked hair from your face.

“but they never saw the truth.”

your voice is barely audible. “what truth?” his thumb lingers at your jaw. his smile is slow. not cruel. not warm either.

“you never needed to tame me.” he leans in, lips ghosting your ear. “i already belonged to you.” you felt yourself shuddering from his words, you weren’t too sure what’s going to happen now. but all you know is that you’re going to be labeled as a terrorist. 

and you’re not sure how to handle that.

｡  ｡  ｡  ｡  ｡  ｡

you wake before the sun again.

the world is still grey and cold, dew clinging to the edges of leaves, soaking the hem of your cloak. the air here is cleaner than it has any right to be; untouched forest stretching endlessly in every direction, no whispers of cities or bells or judgement. just birds, just wind. just the man who sits a few feet away, watching the woods like he’s waiting for them to wake up angry.

lennox doesn’t sleep much anymore.

you think maybe it’s guilt. or maybe he’s just listening for them; the ones who’ll come for you both when the fear finally outweighs the shock.

you pull the cloak tighter and sit up. he glances at you over his shoulder, golden eyes meeting yours. he doesn’t smile, he never does, not in the mornings. his face is quiet, unreadable. but he’s glad you’re awake, you can feel it. 

the bond is still there, it always was there.

“cold?” he asks, voice low.

“no,” you lie.

he says nothing but rises anyways and walks to you, kneeling, slipping his arm around your shoulders. the heat of him sinks into your bones instantly. it’s always been like that with lennox — his warmth, a kind of comfort that doesn’t ask for permission and the kind that comes unexpectedly.

he holds you close, and for a moment, you let yourself forget how wrong everything’s gone.

you try not to think about the last time your family looked at you without fear in their eyes. about how your mother cried not because you’d gone, but because she knew you’d never come back the way they wanted you to.

“you were supposed to tame him,” she had whispered, like you were the one who failed. like he was something that needed to be fixed.

but you never tried to change him. not really. you told yourself you did, told the others what they wanted to hear. but deep down, you knew. he wasn’t made for obedience, yet you still accepted him. you still do.

“you haven’t said anything since yesterday,” lennox murmurs, his breath brushing your temple. “not even when you dreamed.” you hesitate for a moment before answering. “i didn’t know what to say.”

he doesn’t ask for more. he never pushes. it’s funny, if the souls of the dead could scream in your face, they would tell you that he was too much, too intense, too possessive. but he’s never once taken more than you’ve given freely.

except that day. the day you don’t talk about and the day that sent you both running.

he presses his forehead to yours now, gently. “we can keep going. or stay here for a few days, depends on you.”

you’re tired, not in your body, but somewhere deeper. in that place where grief becomes something dry and permanent, something you learn to carry like a scar. “where would we even go?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

his answer is immediate. “wherever you’ll be safe.” you almost laugh in response, wanting to feel bitter for the situation. “there’s no such place anymore.”

“i’ll make one.”

and you believe him. that’s the terrifying part. he would burn the world again if it meant keeping you alive and breathing beside him. you know what he’s capable of now, what it means to be loved by a dragon. and still, you stayed.

not because you’re afraid of him, you’re not. you’re afraid of what it would mean if you left.

“you don’t regret it?” you finally ask the dreading question. “any of it?”

his jaw tightens. not from anger — he doesn’t get angry at you, just at the world, the people who treated you like a leash. the ones who punished you for what he became. “i regret what it cost you,” he says, finally. “but never us.”

you rest your head against his shoulder, fingers twisting into the fabric of his tunic. you want to cry, but the tears don't come anymore. there’s nothing left to mourn. just you, just him and whatever this life is now.

you close your eyes. his arms tightens around you, steady and sure. you’re not sure where you’re going. you’re not sure who you are without your family, without your future, without the druidic purpose they carved into your spine.

but the gods have chosen you to be his rider, and he finally chose to accept it.

even if the world doesn’t understand it, especially because they don’t, you’re not running from him. you’re running with him. and that has to be enough.

[ghost-reader07]

Hypnotic Naga (Request)

You were deep in the Grass Gem Jungle, a very dangerous place. You had been flying in your little one person airplane when a sudden storm blew you right off course, and you had to crash land in the jungle.

You had survived the crash with only some bumps and bruises, but it was a long way back to civilization.

Aside from the usual challenges of surviving in the wild, this jungle was also known to be the territory of nagas. Terrifying hybrids of snake and man.

Only a few people who had ventured into this land had ever left to tell the tale.

You didn't know it yet, but you would not be among those who had escaped. Already, there was a male naga trailing you. His keen yellow eyes had seen your plane crash so he went to investigate. Upon seeing you, he began stalking you through the dense foliage.

You were just his type and he was immediately obsessed with you. A cute little human for him to slot his dick into. He had to claim you before one of the others did.

He could smell the fear rolling off of you as you sweat, his forked tongue letting him savor the scent more thoroughly.

When you tripped, he knew that was his moment to strike. He slithered out of the shadows with startling speed, flipping you over on your back as you screamed in fear.

You went silent as he made eye contact, his snake eyes piercing your soul. Circles appeared to radiate from the pupils, and all your resistance faded.

His voice echoed in your mind. He telepathically commanded you to strip, so you did.

The serpent man coiled his tail around your legs, his cock throbbing as it slid from his genital slit.

He wasted no time in prodding the slimy appendage into you, mating with you for hours as you both periodically spasmed in orgasm before continuing.

You were dizzy and out of it, helpless under his hypnotic gaze as he took your hole over and over.

By the time he finished and relinquished his hold on your mind you were limp, sore, leaking cum, fucked into a stupor, and disoriented from the hypnotism.

He hauled you up easily and took you back to his lair. Another human lost in the Grass Gem Jungle, never to be seen again.

[ghost-reader07]

You wake up with a hand around your boob, squeezing it like it's a stress toy. You mumble half asleep, hitting the hand and waiting for them to stop. But they only release it enough to slip their hand under your soft shirt. Cold fingers find your nipple, pinching it and pulling until you are whimpering, not knowing if you want to get more or less of it. They don't give you a choice. Their fingers play with your nipple until you are begging, your panties so wet you can hear it when you rub your legs together. Another hand finds your soaked center, rubbing your clit in slow circles, dragging your pleasure until you are shivering with an orgasm.

And when you come down from the pleasure, you remember you live alone...

[ghost-reader07]

I'd like to imagine a Yandere!Python Husband would keep you up all night, panting and purring about how your home is big enough to fit more than the two of you. He'll keep his thick cocks buried in both of your holes while he casually asks you how many children you'd want to have. No matter what your answer is, he'll keep fucking you and dumping his thick seed directly inside your womb. It's okay to pass out a little, he doesn't mind! Rest assured that you will be waking up to a belly full of cum and a snuggly snake curled around you in a protective manner (as if you're already pregnant and in need of protection). His dream is to knock you up with twins or triplets 💖

"You'll grant that for me, won't you, dearie~?"

[ghost-reader07]

Yandere Dragonborn Roommate

MDNI Warning: Scent kink mentioned, M*sturbation mentioned, I guess the yandere being a Tsundere??? idk how that works man

Yandere Dragonborn Roommate who sneers at you the first you two were introduced to one another, rent was getting unreasonably high and sometimes a bit of sacrifices must be made. He lay the ground rules, do not walk into his room without permission, put your shoes outside, if you were to come home late always call and god forbid touch his jewelry box.

Yandere Dragonborn Roommate always texts when you'll be home or if you ate dinner already, and throws a small tantrum if you don't reply within the next 5 minutes. Bombards your phone with constant calls and messages till you reply and gets mad for not picking it up sooner.

Yandere Dragonborn Roommate will always know if you have a date, its not like he stalked your phone while you shower or anything! he makes it his mission to personally doll you up. He dictates what you're wearing and the make up that will make your eyes pop more. Then making you wear his prized jewelry, he personally pick with care and adorn your skin with the shining jewel and crystals. Maybe your roommate isn't bad after all, sure he's oddly quiet during the whole process, but a great wingman nonetheless.

Yandere Dragonborn Roommate pushes you out of the apartment for you to meet your date outside. He holds your forearm and makes you repeat the rules, then gives you a nod of farewell.

Yandere Dragonborn Roommate then rushes to your room, and goes to your unwashed laundry to satisfy his swollen boners, having to jack off two cocks is exhausting. He wishes those pocket pussies were your warmth instead of the sticky and oddly cold silicone, and your underwear is your crotch in his face instead.

He quickly takes a cold shower to cool off and hide the evidence, keeping a souvenir. He always knows that your dates are going to fail and you'll burst into the apartment crying. What? do you think those jewelry is just for show? Those hybrids can smell the dragon’s power within them, making them cower in fear. Without you realizing you are already marked by the dragon.

_____

Author's Note: Damn, this is a longer drabble than I expected.

[ghost-reader07]

Lured

Male Anglerfish Merman Yandere x Gender Neutral Angelfish Merperson Reader CW: Noncon, oviposition, kidnapping, minor brief hypnotism, general yandere behavior, size difference Word Count: 1.1k (This is the Mermay fic for this year! I hope you all enjoy it <3)

As an angelfish merperson you called the reef home. You felt in your bones that there was to be a storm. A big one. You thought you were safe in the safety of your reef abode. You were woefully wrong.

You hunkered down in your house and tried to lay low like you did during every extreme storm

Your door was ripped off the hinges, opening up your cave to a current that pulled you away from the safety of the reef and into the open ocean. When the storm finally ended you found yourself disoriented and far into foreign waters.

It seemed there was an island nearby. You decided to check it out and get your bearings.

When you approached, your head above the surface to get a good look, you realized with unrestrained horror that this was the Deadman’s Rock.

You had never seen it, but the description matched. Black sand beaches and a rock formation vaguely in the shape of a skull in the center. Every little merfolk in your reef grew up on the horror stories of Deadman’s Rock.

There were tale’s about it and the surrounding waters being haunted, about it being a hellmouth that led into the underworld, that strange leviathans lurked in the nearby depths. All typical types of stories one would conjure up to inspire terror.

But other stories were much more believable. Warnings of feral sharks and nearly feral shark mermen, anglerfish mermen, human poachers.

At any rate it was certainly not somewhere that you wanted to be near. You didn’t know what direction you had been blown in from ,but nowhere could be worse than here. You started swimming away.

Only once you were submerged you noticed a series of glowing lights. One large one in the front and a bunch of smaller ones following. They were a reddish orange color. Soft, warm, inviting.

You were enthralled and started drifting towards them, not really aware of what you were doing. They were so serene. Oh so pretty.

They subdued you completely. And by the time you realized just what they were it was far too late. The lure of an anglerfish man and the lights on the tips of his dorsal fins, and little lights going down his sides.

The spell he had over you didn’t break until he nabbed you. All the struggling and thrashing you did absolutely nothing. He was considerably larger than you and even though he was very lean he was also very strong. Down, down, down, you went. Deep into the alien waters, convinced that he was going to eat you.

But he didn’t. He dragged you into a terrible trench and just when you thought you’d pass out from the sudden shift in pressure and temperature he pulled you into a cavern. Instantly the water was warmer and lighter, heated by thermal vents. Or perhaps magic. You didn’t exactly have the ability to investigate given your current predicament.

The angler took you into a side room, evidently where he slept as it had what seemed to be a makeshift bed framed from the scavenged bones of several different creatures and filled with frillweed, a common bedding for merfolk.

“What the fuck do you want with me!?”

He replied in a foreign tongue, harsh and brutal, that you had no knowledge of. You doubt he could understand you at all either. As he placed you down on the bed and loomed over you, you at last had a moment to get a good look at him.

His mouth was a terrifying grin adorned with wicked needle-like teeth, his eyes entirely black, he had a lure coming out of his forehead and long red hair that matched the red scales of his fish half and complimented his brown skin. Fins on his back were tipped with red-orange lights, similar flecks of light went down his tail.

Though he could not communicate what his desires were verbally, his intention was clear through the large slimy red cock, the tip of which glowed with a light matching the rest, that slowly emerged from his genital slit.

Before you could dart away he pinned you down and rammed his prehensile cock into you, you could feel it wriggle and writhe inside you and he thrust, seeking pleasure and leaving no inch of your depths unexplored in its search.

He was brutal and hadn’t bothered stretching you out. His cock wasn’t as rigid as a human’s but the sudden entry and brutal pacing was still fairly painful at first.

Your captor gripped your hips, long claw-like nails digging into you. The angler couldn’t help himself. Such a beautiful creature lured right to him, practically swimming into his arms. Someone so fragile and fair all for him! He had to breed you. Claim you. Make you his. It wouldn’t do for such a jewel to be swimming about at random in these waters. Something terrible could have happened to you!

His new little jewel was lucky he found them. He could breed you and take great care of you. The first thing for him to do to prove his devotion was to fill you to the brim with his eggs.

After several seemingly endless minutes the pain ebbed away and eventually pleasure took its place. Then you were twitching and jerking lustifully as he violated you.

Gasps and moans escaped your lips, proof to him that he was pleasing his mate. Primal sounds that transcended any language barrier. You finished in unison but came partially to your senses when you felt a few hard orbs deposited into you.

/////////

Weeks had passed, you had managed to get a few words understood between the two of you. Names, for instance, his was Melchio. When he wasn’t fucking you roughly he was paradoxically treating you like a fragile treasure that would crumble to dust at the slightest inconvenience. Doting on you, hunting for you, feeding you by hand.

He still terrified you, especially his eyes and teeth, and you missed the sun and colors of the reef, but you didn’t dare try to run away. The deep heavy waters outside the cavern weren’t just a physical danger in of themselves but likely concealed all sorts of horrors far more dangerous than your new found “husband.”

When he noticed you were anxious or panicking about your new life there, he’d get behind you with his arms tightly holding you, his lure dangling in front of you, calming you into a trance-like state.

At least there you were healthy and well cared for. So there you would remain. Forever.

[ghost-reader07]

In theory would a second monster be able to use the same hole as a ghost at the same time? Like not side by side but since ghosts can pass through stuff does that only happen when they want since they can fuck you? Like if you're being fucked by a ghost and your pussy is spread open by its cock could another monster come in at the same time?

Yes definitely

So ghost is thrusting into your sloppy hole, and while your gaped on invisible cock, werewolf/orc/tentacle/etc monster can come up and shove into you as well, and now everytime ghost pulls out to thrust again, the other monster is thrusting into you, leaving you completely brainless as you get basically dped

[ghost-reader07]

fairy gf grinding on the tip of human bf's cock, her thighs soaked in her juices and the beads of his precum, the slit of his cock nestled against her bare pussy

they physically can't fuck, but she gets to hump his tip until she squirts on it and he gets to jerk off to her pretty self until he drenches her cunt and lower body in his cum

which she then helps him clean by licking his hand until he decides to tongue fuck his cum into her

[ghost-reader07]

♡ TW: noncon, gangbang, bondage, elf-reader, orc slavemaster, goblins, ogres, trolls, captive reader, mud, piss, anal, breastmilk, cumflation, mindbreak, Stockholm syndrome, other nasty shit

♡ FEM reader

Thinking about slavemaster orc…

Big brawny brutal fucker, moss-green and thick-skinned like a toad with tusks curling up his lip.

He keeps quite a few different species on his farm. Nymphs, fauns, fairies, pixies, you name it. If it’s pretty and fuckable, he’s got it. 

But the very best and rarest of all are, of course, elves. 

The rest are dumb, easily subdued creatures—they get caught in traps running about the forest, and immediately cower and submit to their bigger hunters. There ain’t much sport in either capturing or training them.

Elves however. Those are the real prize. Godlike beauties that never seem to age, never spoiling, staying nice and tight and supple for however long you keep them. 

You’ve got to be clever to bag an elf. They might look as harmless as the rest, but that delicate physique is all a trick; elves are sharp by nature and can kill you if you're not careful when hunting them.

They’re not all that strong, though, and so if you manage to get them while they sleep, they’re as easy prey as any.

His gang of bandits nabbed you and your troop when you’d made camp for the night. Your guards had been drinking wine and weren’t all that alert come dark. They were knocked out cold at their post before he even had to take things into his own hands. 

That’s the fault in elves, really—haughty, arrogant things who forget to be wary, thinking they’re untouchable when really, they’re still just prey with a bit more brains.

He could tell you were an important bitch by the way you had your own tent, grandiouse as if hitched for royalty. He entered and had to scoff at all the furniture—rugs, mirrors, scented candles, and other bullshit—he can’t believe you elves bring all this with you every time you travel, as if spending a single hour in the mud is beneath you. Oh, but you’re going to get plenty familiar with the mud from now on as his new farm animal…

In any case, it’s not really the hunting and capturing that is fun. No, it’s the training.

You see, elves don’t submit that easily. Not even when subjected to endless hours of ruthless fucking. They don’t break. Must be something about being hundreds of years old. They’ve lived through so much that not much else can compare. But nothing’s built to last. And elves, no matter the nobility, no matter the age, all break in the end.

He starts you off with Goblins, watching as they rip into your silk dress, slapping your perfect skin until it welts, licking and fingering your tight cunt until it puffs up. They’re relentless little fuckers with dicks the size of your forearm despite only bing tall enough to reach your hips. They pry open your holes and teach them how to take a pounding, breaking them in for the bigger guys. 

Hogtied, your cheek mushed in the dirt, ass in the air, wrists bound to your ankles as the filthy creatures stuff your cunt, pounding shameful slick out of you. Using your shins as a stepping-stool, standing at the perfect height—two fingers in your ass turning to three, then another three from another hand, all fiddling with the hole and snickering while at it.

For more humiliation, a hook is fixed to each of your nostrils, pulled back around your head, turning your nose up like a piglet—making you squeal like one as they proceed to fully neglect your cunt in favor of double-stuffing your pretty ass. Cheering when you take a third cock while one of them shoves his hand inside your drooling pussy, fisting it good until your thighs shake and you end up squirting.

They switch in the dozens, keeping it up for several hours, cueing up behind you, taking turns, before one of them sits himself down on your back, using your hair to pull your head back, fixing a ring-gag between your teeth, keeping your mouth open as they all fuck your skull and finish down your throat.

They leave you sweaty and cum-drenched in the mud.

He watches you for a moment, enjoying the sight of you lying there panting, so exhausted you’re actually falling asleep in the awful position, only for him to blow his fingers, calling up the next round.

A troll and two ogres step forth then. They wake you up by washing you down with piss. All three standing in a ring around you, pouring out their big bladders, revealing your pretty skin again, so glowy and pretty in the golden hue, despite the way you grimace and whine, feeling the sour taste invade your mouth—unsure if it’s worse than what the goblins spewed down your throat just earlier.

Unlike them, they untie you. With hands big enough to reach fully around your neck, it doesn’t matter how much you struggle. They might be dumb creatures, but they know what they want and help each other get it. Holding your legs apart as one of the ogres works his bulbous tip against your wet slit—pushing and prodding, failing to penetrate until it eventually succeeds in sinking inside. 

You wail, but the ogre pays it no mind, bullying himself all the way into your cervix, only half of him fitting. He groans and shakes his head at the resistance, trying to force himself more inside. Annoyed at your body for not complying, he keeps himself there, nudging into your womb, thinking that if he just continued trying, your body would suddenly give in and accept the way he was trying to push himself up through your throat.

The other ogre lifts your thighs up, holding you sideways between them both while lining his own monstrous cock up with your ravaged ass—pushing inside with more ease than your pussy. He doesn’t seem to care that half of him isn’t getting squeezed, starting to shove himself in and out unlike the other—fucking you slower than the goblins did, but with a thickness that makes it feel like your stomach might drop and fall out.

The troll stands on top of the crate they’d kept you in, squeezing your soft tits, gathering them around his length while fucking his tip against your pretty face—softly poking into the plump your turned cheek. Hooking his thumb into the corner of your mouth, he guides you to look up and spits a heavy blob inside it. Twisting your nipple with a smile, pinching the fat of them while jerking himself against your face. 

The ogres both finish inside your holes, whilst the troll sprays his worth over your tits—with much of it going inside your mouth just like the goblins.

But even after all that, when they drop you like discarded trash, letting your limp body fall and splash in the mud, you still fight your way up onto your feet. 

Mildly impressed with your strength of will, he watches you try to make a run for it. 

But he wouldn’t be a good slavemaster if he didn’t know how to wrangle strays back. Using a lasso, he throws and spins it around your throat like a noose and pulls you right back down into the mud, where you now belong. 

Walking over, he places his foot down on your panting chest and smiles, having to hand it to you—he can tell you’re going to be a tough one to crack. 

And it’s true. Even with his seal seared into your asscheek and a collar around your throat, you won’t obey unless he has all your limbs secured in rope. And even then, he has to all but strangle the life out of you with a leash to stop you from thrashing. No matter how many goblin orgies and orcs and trolls and ogres he puts you through, you don’t break.

Which is why he decided to handle taming you personally.

He puts you on a diet of cum and mead, keeping you sluggish—unable to stand without wobbling, unable to speak without slurring. And every time something he doesn't want to hear comes out of your mouth, he gives your cunt a firm slap—while every time something good comes out, he encourages it with rubbing that pretty clit of yours until you’re rewarded with a full-bodied orgasm. 

It almost brings warmth to his cold heart, seeing you writhe around in pleasure—tongue out, whining and whimpering as he rubs through your pussylips with the grit of his thick finger. You’re beginning to look just like a pet—happy to be put in your rightful place, wagging your tail for your owner.

When he doesn’t have the time to train you at the farm, he brings you out with him. Wearing you around like a piece of jewelry—wrists strung up around his neck, hung there with your back to his chest, cock switching between your holes, but mostly in your cunt—for boding reasons. Molding your womb to his size, making your body adopt it like a baby. He was able to sink all the way inside balls deep after a few weeks. Roost inside you, keeping his cock warm and wet with your heat.

It’s true what they say, the tougher they are, the harder they break. But look at you now. My oh my, how broken you are.

You’re his finest work yet. Beautiful elven royalty on your hands and knees desperate for orc cock in your every orifice, always begging to be bred.

Of course, you can’t carry his offspring, but that doesn’t mean his cum has all gone to waste. With so much of it getting dumped and pumped up your system, your silly elven body has started thinking it’s pregnant even when it isn’t.

You’re even softer and more gorgeous because of it—round around the edges, breasts all swollen up with sweet milk, with your pregnancy brain keeping you horny for him every waking hour of every day. In his lap willingly, wanting your soft titties groped and sucked on—silken hands holding onto his tusks, pulling him close to your bosom, wanting his studded tongue to play with your nipple, suckle on them until they're sore.

You throw your head back with a blissful sigh, moving your pretty ass up and down his fat length, sitting down on it fully, cockhead in your guts, then lifting yourself all the way up to his fat tip, moaning as you sink down on it again.

You take your time—that’s how he can tell you’re enjoying yourself. And what a sight it is. Watching your eyes role back, body seizing up, cunt throttling around nothing before gushing—cumming from getting your udders milked and your prissy elven ass fucked.

He wished the old you could see you now—how mindlessly you pop off his lap, and settle down between his thighs, lapping at the deep slit shaping his cockhead, eating out his pre with a bite of pleasure to your bottom lip, shivering at the taste he’s taught you to love.

You suck on the tip, hollow cheeks and crossed bedroom eyes—looking like a calf sucking it’s mother’s teat for milk—before fully opening your mouth. Waiting for him with your pink tongue all rolled out and seeking, knowing you’re going to get your face drenched and wanting to catch and swallow as much of it as you can.

You keep rubbing yourself where you kneel. Both hands between your thighs, stuffing your cavity with all your fingers, using your thumbs to tickle your clit. Everything’s wet, and your head is swimming with the same sticky mess, wanting his cum like it’s the sole ingredient to your happiness.

Poor brainwashed pet—he’ll give you what you want, don’t worry.

He rests the swollen tip on the warm bed of your tongue, bathing it in your drool, the way it drips down your pretty chest full of his love bites. Balancing it on your tastebuds, you close your lips around it for a kiss, giddily shimmying on your knees, eager to be fed. 

He strokes himself slowly, wanting to savor the sight of you, feeling it in his balls—how it’s going to be a big one. You’re going to have to swallow several times to get it all, gulp it down like the cum-hungry cock-slave he’s turned you into.

The way you do exactly that so naturally convinces him that this was always your true nature. You even shiver and cum on your fingers as you drink him up. Sucking the rest out of his tip until you’re certain there’s no more left for you to lick.

His heavy hand pets your head, and you nuzzle into the touch, leaning forward until you’re burying your face in his empty balls, kissing them with a pretty little “Thank you, master,” slipping out with a moan. 

And still, you got your fingers in your cunt, continuing to make yourself cum.

Poor cock-addicted elf… don’t worry, he’ll let you ride his face, lap up all your sweetness, until his cock perks up again, then he’ll give your womb the pounding it so desperately needs.

♡ BNHA – Enji, AFO ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Toji, Kenjaku ♡ HxH – Uvogin

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[ghost-reader07]

♡ TW: nsfw, noncon, captive teeny tiny pixie reader...

♡ FEM reader

You’re a pretty little pixie-fairy unlucky enough to get snatched up by a band of roaming orcs. 

They’re the crew of a traveling circus, or rather, a zoo, featuring all sorts of rarities ranging from high-elves to common fairies, as well as mermaids, harpies, nymphs, and hybrids of every and all kinds locked up in pretty gilded cages. But of course, it’s not like any old zoo. With attractions as rare and fuckable as such, it doubles as a brothel for those who come willing to pay a little extra.

And among all those sexy rarities, pixies are one of the most valued. Rumored to only be a myth, it’s rare enough to catch a glimpse of one, let alone have one on display. It’s even said that seeing one will bring good fortune for the rest of one’s life, and even more so for those who get to touch one.

So you can imagine the crowd surrounding you, each one rubbing you against their massive dick for good luck.

The chain on your ankle is heavy enough to make flying impossible, grounding you if it weren’t for the massive paw wound tightly around you, all but squeezing you free of air while demanding you, “Lick it.”

You have no choice but to protrude your tongue, even as the big brute angles you face first into his dickhole, wanting to use your little pink muscle to plug it. You very nearly drown in the pre-ooze pouring out. And when he finally blows, leaving you cum-drenched and wings soggy, you look no different from a bug someone sneezed out of their nose.

And still, the queue lining up is longer than your wee eyes can see, each one waiting for their turn. It goes on like that day in and day out for more days than you can keep track of, leaving you drunk off of cum with never a break to sober up.

Soon enough, you’re settled in—all gooey-headed and heart-eyed. Now, even able to fit a little finger inside you. Getting comfortable with it as it stretches you out, all the while sitting atop the mighty ballsack of the massive orc it belongs to. Roosting on the pillowy seat like it’s your own warm and comfy throne, butt-nude, with your thighs and legs wrapped tightly around the base, just barely able to lock your feet around the meat member, squeezing and humping it tight. 

You do the same with your arms, of course, tits flush against the warm wrinkly skin as you hug the cleft of his cockhead snug. Squealing and moaning as you drink the yummy pre hot from the source, getting your womb pinky-fucked until you squeal all high-pitched while squirting, spasming like a little marionette puppet. 

It doesn’t stop you from tongue-kissing his urethra, though. Bobbing your head while your limbs all strangle his cock, keeping it tight until cume comes spurting out like a fountain and showers you in heavy, blanketing blissful warmth. 

You bathe in it against his bulbous abdominal muscles, playing in it, making cum-angels under the spray until he’s all finished. 

Then onto the next.

[ghost-reader07]

♡ The Sleep Over ♡

At a sleepover with my friend, smoking, drinking, hanging out.. laughing at each other's silliness until i get so high and drunk im practically unconscious. I didn't know my friend has had a crush on me for a long time, and they know i have a boyfriend, but we're still close.. so close they began slowly stripping my limp body of every article of clothing, being careful not to startle me. They spread my legs open and lightly play with my pussy, almost tickling it. It was already wet from the cold air hitting it but the sensation from being high and touched made it wetter. There was no reaction from me so they continued, soon putting their mouth on my silky slit. It caused me to groan and move around slightly, my face wrinkling in the process, however they didn't back down because they just loved the taste of me so much. Licking every last bit of my juices up and ignoring my groans, they decided they had enough. The growing pain against their zipper was just too much for them to handle. They flipped me onto my stomach and raised my hips to meet theirs while holding their cock steady against my pussy. As they pushed the tip in, they leaned over to my ear and quietly whispered, "im so.. so sorry for whats about to happen. Please.. dont hate me. I love you, so much." And with that, they began pleasuring themselves with my knocked out body and recording this act for their own pleasure later. My groaning turned to light moans as i began groggily waking up from the pleasure i was receiving. I tried to look back at him, but my head was so heavy and my vision was all blurry.. i forgot where i was, what i was doing, didnt know what was going on but it felt so good. "Mm.. Daddyy..", i moaned softly, lightly pushing my hips back into his thinking it was my boyfriend. He felt a little bigger but i wasnt worried at all, my brain was just too clouded. I wanted more of this feeling, every thrust and every moan he gave out spiraled me deeper into euphoria. "Fuck.. your pussy feels so good.. So sticky.. creamy.. tight.. warm.. i dont want to stop.. i cant..", he whispered to himself. He was so deep in the moment he hadnt noticed i was awake, and i had recognized the voice. It startled me to know my bestfriend of all people would do something like this to me. However i had no energy in me, the euphoria mixed with being all storts of drugged out, i just couldn't fight back. I hated the feeling, i hated he would do this, i hated every second of him shoving his cock in and out of me.. but i loved it, i loved it all. I loved the minutes, maybe even hours, that he fucked my limp body.. i couldnt tell how long he did it, i just know it was to the point he couldnt hold out much longer and he let loose his entire load inside of me. The next day i pretended nothing even happened, and i continued to sleepover with him.

[ghost-reader07]

Making plans to go out to the mall with you, letting you know that I’ll be at your place in ten minutes to pick you up. When I get there and knock on the door, however, you greet me in a crop top with your tits peeking out from underneath and a short skirt. You dismiss my surprise, telling me that it’s summer time and it’s just soooo hot outside, you don’t have anything better to wear to beat the heat. As you walk past me to my car though, you do catch a glimpse of the bulge in my pants, knowing my thoughts were immediately of dragging you into your house and tearing those slutty clothes off of you.

The drive to the mall was eventful as well, as I nearly rear ended a car multiple times because I kept glancing over at you bouncing in the passenger seat, singing along to the radio and squeezing your tits together with your elbows, acting completely innocent in your teasing of me.

When we get into the mall you basically spend the whole time draped over my arm, wrapping your arms around mine and pressing my hand in your cleavage, pretending like everything is completely normal as I start to lose my mind. We pass by a Victoria’s Secret and you grab my arm, dragging me over to the displays, talking about how you “have something like this, but wayy more revealing” before looking back up at me and watching my face turning red from imagining it.

We walk down a hallway of the mall, empty rooms dotting either wall, shops that moved out or have yet to even open up, so it’s all eerily quiet. Suddenly, you feel my hand slide across your back, gripping you tightly as I pull you into the bathroom at the end of the hall, shoving you into the stall and locking the door behind me. Before you have a chance to ask what the fuck I’m doing, my hand slips under your skirt and slides across your cunt. “You weren’t going to tell me that you didn’t wear panties, slut?” I ask, staring you straight into the eyes. You stare up at me, your face becoming flush as you sit back onto the toilet lid, your thighs pressing together, already slick from me sliding my fingers across your hole. “I-I must’ve forgotten them, you rush me-“ you begin to say, excusing yourself of blame, when I grab your top and pull it up, letting your tits fall out. “And no bra either, you must’ve been looking for a reason for this to happen to you, right?” I ask, grabbing the buckle of my belt and undoing it, letting it slide out of my belt loops. I grab your wrists and tighten it around them, leaving you unable to use your hands as I grab my pants, my hard cock throbbing in front of your face. “You’ve been teasing me all damn day, you little brat… now you need to face the consequences of doing that.” I say, grabbing a fistful of your hair and shoving your mouth onto my cock. You choke and drool over it, feeling it hit the back of your throat as I move your head back and forth, fucking that dolled up little face of yours for teasing me for so long. You move your hands to your needy cunt, fingering yourself as I use your mouth, sending reverberations down my shaft with every moan as your drool drips down onto your tits. You play with your nipples, trying hard to not pass out from how rough I’m being, looking up at me with tears in your eyes, stinging from your makeup smearing down your face. “You’ve got such a perfect little throat to fuck, baby, I should’ve just done this sooner, it would’ve saved us a lot of trouble, and I could’ve actually gotten some shopping done.” I moan, lamenting the clothes I passed up because you were too busy doing all but grinding on my leg like the needy whore you are.

I pull my cock out of your throat and smack it against your face, watching you pant, spit bubbles slipping down the corners of your lips as your fingers make a mess out of your pussy. I pick you up and turn you around, flipping the skirt up and seeing the buttplug you put in for me, before sliding my cock along the folds of your pussy, then shoving it all the way in as I rail you mercilessly, gripping your hips hard enough to hurt so so good. You bite your lip, stifling moans and screams as I rail you, realizing that this was all your fault, that I’m going to fill your empty little cunt with as many loads of cum as I can, before making you finish shopping with me as my love drips down your thighs.

If you make a mess on my car seats on the way home, you know you’re going to get punished again.

[ghost-reader07]

I want my parents to send me to a slut boarding school without my knowledge. When I get there on the first day, I have to stand in a line while teachers take off our panties and shove vibrators inside us. I tell them no, but at this school, I don't get a say. I'm too scared to take it out. They pass the remotes to the boys randomly.

Throughout the day, my pussy buzzes and it slowly starts to make me wet. The boys trade remotes, so I end up being played with by multiple guys.

After lunch, the vibrators come out, and when I walk into my next class, the girl's desks all have some kind of dildo on them. One of the boys drags me over to one of the bigger dildos, and he and his buddies impale me on it, ignoring me when I tell them it's too big. Class starts, and I'm forced to cock warm this huge toy the entire time.

After classes, they take us to a room where we're all stripped and strapped down to tables. I tug at my bonds, but it doesn't help. The boy from earlier comes up, dick out. It's the same size as the toy from earlier. He was warming me up.

He doesn't wait and he isn't gentle. He slams his cock into me, laughing when I cry. He tells me what a good girl I am, how sluts like me belong on his cock, how good I feel. Finally, he cums, and he leaves. Other boys take turns with me for hours, but none of them fill me up like him.

Finally, they pull the girls off the tables. We wobble, but we're told we'll learn to take it. We're not allowed to put our clothes back on until tomorrow morning, and we're sent to dinner naked. The boy stops in the hall to grope my tits until I'm wet again, and then he shoves his fingers inside me. He doesn't let me cum though, telling me I have to wait until tomorrow for that.

[ghost-reader07]

Our Shared Sins

A Juni Kokuki fanfiction (The Twelve Kingdoms)

In the Twelve Kingdoms, the bond between a ruler and their kirin is sacred, divine, intimate, and unlike any other. It is a connection forged by the Heavens, deeper than loyalty, stronger than blood. To serve is the kirin’s destiny; to protect is the ruler’s vow. And yet, when devotion softens into yearning, and reverence slips into desire… what remains of that sacred vow?

Tairin, the kirin of Tai, never intended to fall. Gyousou, her king, never meant to reach for what should have remained out of grasp. But in the silence of palace walls, where the Heavens always watch, something forbidden takes root.

What begins as duty and purpose blooms into something dangerous, something forbidden and cursed. In the quiet shadows of the palace, an irreparable sin is born between a sovereign and their holy beast.

Side Story: Smut (Tairin x Gyousou. Non cannon!)

Tags: Forbidden Romance, usual tags, forbidden love, taboo romance, taboo relationships, taboo love, cross species, established relationship, smut, porn with plot, master-servant relationship

A young woman who looked no older than her early twenties walked the halls of Hakkei palace. Her jet-black hair cascaded down her back to her waist, the skirt of her layered kimono brushed the floor as she walked. Tairin, the Saiho of the kingdom of Tai easily moves around the bustling servants as she navigated her way through the imperial halls. Hakkei palace was more lively than usual, Tairin could hear the festival going on in the capital all the way in the palace, proving how excited the citizens were, and how hard they were celebrating the anniversary of their ruler's reign.

It had officially been two hundred years since the king of Tai took the throne; the longest a ruler had ever sat on the throne in their entire history. He was a man named Saku Gyousou, the former general in the Tai army before Tairin recognized him as Tai’s new king after descending Mt. Hou and following the pull of the Ouki to Kouki, the capital of Tai. She had spent twenty years on Mt. Hou waiting for her king to come to her. But when he didn’t show she decided it was time to go to him. And what a joyous decision that was.

Tairin was on her way to her king’s study after being summoned. She wasn’t sure what for but no matter what it was about she was more than happy to come running whenever he called for her; be it high waters or hellish storms she would gallop to her master’s side in moments the moment he uttered her name. She liked to think of herself as a good kirin to her lord, she did adore him after all, as did all kirin. Sometimes she found her feelings of devoting running a bit...deeper than that. She wasn’t sure what she was feeling, not entirely; but all she knew is that she loved her master more than anything and always would.

Tairin stops momentarily in front of the king’s door. She takes a deep breath, gathering her composure and mentally preparing herself for the encounter. Her heart was now pumping fast with a mixture of anticipation and a hint of anxiety but she swallows her nervousness and pushes the door open, entering the room. Standing in front of her king always made her nervous, but in the best of ways. His eyes shined bright, a deep determination always burning deep in his soul. And that’s what she loved best about him. His determination to build a strong kingdom that would be ruled by a never-ending era filled with peace, an era where nobody had to suffer and everyone went to bed at night happy and fulfilled. That is what he told her when they ascended the tallest peak of Mt. Hou to receive the blessing of the Heavens after she found him. He had been named the Peace King, and just as he promised her, he brought the most peaceful and ever thriving era to the kingdom of Tai that the people have ever seen.

Tairin gently knocks on the door, waiting for permission to enter. “Come in” the wonderful voice of her lord speaks. Tairin feels her heart skip a beat, opening the door. Immediately she is enveloped in the warmth of his Ouki before she could step one foot through the open door. His Ouki was like a warm blanket…no, it was more akin to a blazing fire in the middle of winter. Whenever she was away from him she felt cold, but not the kind of cold you could chase off with layers of clothes or by laying under many blankets.

No, this was a kind of biting chill that pierced her heart and struck deeper than that, a feeling akin to drowning in the frosty, arctic waters of the far north surrounding their kingdom. It was an intense, raw chill that gripped her soul and attacked her entire being. But just a single glance from her master, simply being in his presence was enough to chase the frigid pain away and warm her starved soul. She knew sometimes it was necessary to be away from him, but that didn’t mean she liked it.

When Tairin finally steps in, the room is dim, candlelight flickering softly in the darkness. A figure turns to face her, but the angle shrouds His Majesty's face in shadows. He is staring out a window towards the festivities outside. He turns back to her, the candlelight providing a soft glow from behind, illuminating him faintly. "Close the door" he says, his voice calm and smooth. She does as told, closing the door behind her.

The room falls into a deeper silence, the sounds of the outside celebrations muffled. Gyousou stares at her, his expression unreadable in the shadows. "Come here" he says, his voice soft but commanding. Tairin feels her heart skip a beat, but she obeys. She walks over to Gyousou, stopping only a few steps from him. He looks down at her, his expression still unreadable. The silence is almost suffocating, the tension between them palpable. Tairin, for a moment, wonders if she did something to upset him that she wasn’t aware of. Usually, he wasn’t this quiet with her.

"Closer" he says, his voice holding a hint of amusement in his voice and something else, but she wasn’t quite sure what. Tairin steps closer, looking up at Gyousou a bit nervous. Gyousou studies her for a moment, his eyes roaming over her form. He reaches out a hand, his fingers lightly grazing her cheek. His touch is soft but commanding. "You look..." he pauses, his eyes fixed on her. "...beautiful," he says, his voice quiet. Tairin smiles faintly, "thank you Your Majesty" she says softly. She was more than happy to hear him praise her appearance. She always put special care into it, so she was always happy to hear him say that.

Gyousou's hand moves from her cheek to her chin, his thumb tracing her jawline gently. He gazes at her intently, his eyes seemingly unreadable, especially in the dim light."You don't need to be so formal," he says, his voice quieter than usual. "You can call me by my name."

She smiles, "thank you lord Gyousou" Tairin’s voice was as soft spoken as always. Gyousou's fingers move from her chin to her hair, gently pushing a stray lock behind her ear. His touch is soft, almost reverent. "Why do you always have to be so...polite?" he asks, his voice holding a mix of irritation and amusement. They had been master and kirin for many years by now, too many for Gyousou to keep track of. So why was the woman in front of him, his one and only kirin, so distant with him still?

"I...forgive me lord Gyousou," she says softly. Gyousou's hand stops in her hair, his touch growing firmer for a moment before loosening. He steps a little closer to her, his hand moving from her hair to lightly rest on her waist, pulling her closer to him ever so slightly. Tairin feels her heart jump slightly. It always did odd things when her lord touched her in such a gentle way. She wasn’t exactly sure how her master saw her. En-Ou and En Taiho had a relationship like brothers. Sai-ou and Sai Taiho had a relationship like a grandmother and her beloved grandchild. Han-ou and Han Taiho had a relationship like parent and child.

Yet she couldn’t quite place a title on her and her own master’s relationship. They...just were. Sometimes he touched her in ways that were brief but made her feel in ways she sure was a sin. Other times those gentle touches made her feel secure and safe instead of like a flustered young maiden. It was confusing for her, but she never once questioned him.

"You don't need to apologize," he says, his voice gentle. "But...you always try to keep your distance." He adds with a raised brow. "I do not, you're the one who has kept me at a distance, not even summoning me as of late" Tairin crosses her arms with a small pout, turning from her master. Gyousou's eyes widened briefly, surprised by her unexpected fit. He lets out a small chuckle, his hand tightening its grip on her waist slightly and turning her to face him once more. "You're quite observant," he says, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement. "I suppose...I have." He gazes down at her, his eyes searching her face for a moment before he speaks again. "But not for the reasons you think."

"Then what was the reason lord Gyousou. Are...you upset about last time?" She asks softly. Gyousou's expression softens slightly, surprise momentarily flashing in his eyes. "You're more direct than usual," he remarks, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He remains quiet for a moment, contemplating how much he should reveal. "I'm not upset, nor did you do anything wrong" he says finally. "But... I have been...distracted."

"Distracted about what lord Gyousou?" She asks gently. Gyousou hesitates for a moment, his eyes drifting over her face before settling on her eyes. "You" he says quietly, his voice a low murmur. "You've been on my mind as of late," he admits, his hand on her waist moving to rest on her hip. Tairin thought that made sense. They had both been very busy as of late. In her mind, he must have missed her a lot, maybe almost as much as she’s missed him. But at the same, she didn’t believe he missed her in the same manner she had.

"I've missed you too, lord Gyousou," she says truthfully. Gyousou's eyes flicker with surprise, perhaps expecting a different response. He studies her for a moment, his expression unreadable. "You have, have you?" he asks, his voice holding a hint of mockery. He steps a little closer to her, their bodies almost touching. "I have" she says matter of fact. Gyousou's eyebrows raise slightly at her matter-of-fact tone. He lets out a soft chuckle, amused by her unflinching honesty.

"You've missed me" he repeats, his voice holding a hint of mild amusement. He pauses for a moment, studying her face intently. "Just me, hm?" he asks, leaning in closer. "Yes" she says softly, her breath catching in her throat slightly. He was...close. She tries to keep eye contact, but she looks down in a matter of seconds. Gyousou is close now, his body mere inches from hers. His hand tightens on her hip, his fingers digging into the fabric of her kimono.

"Just me?" he repeats once again, his voice carrying a slightly mocking tone. His other hand comes up to cup her chin, forcing her to look up at him. "No one else?"

"No one else," she confirms. Gyousou's eyes darken as he looks down at her, his expression filled with the sparks of a small flame and something else, something he was trying hard to hold back. But Tairin wasn’t quite sure what. "You're certainly a mystery," he murmurs, his hand on her chin slowly trailing down to her neck, his fingers tracing the soft skin before resting there. "Always so honest...yet I can never tell what's truly on your mind."

He leans in a bit closer, his lips nearly touching her ear as he speaks. "You've no idea what you do to me" he whispers, his voice low and husky. Tairin felt her stomach flip. Lord Gyousou wasn’t usually like this, maybe teasing her from time to time with his words but never like this. But maybe she was thinking of this all wrong. Maybe?

"Then tell me," Tairin says, gulping. Gyousou's breath hitches momentarily at her directness, surprise flickering briefly in his eyes before being replaced by a hint of desire. He moves his hand from her neck to the back of her head, his fingers gently tangling in her hair. He pulls her closer to him, their bodies now almost pressed together, his other hand on her hip pulling her against him. "You...drive me mad," he husks, his voice low and filled with a hint of desperation. "You have no idea the effect you have on me...the things I want to do. "

Tairin feels her heart jump from her chest. She froze, unsure of how to react. But her mouth opens before her brain could catch up, "then...do them, lord Gyousou. Whatever you wish to do to me, I will accept it. Do it" she says, her heart racing so hard it ached slightly. Gyousou's eyes widen, surprise and desire clear in his expression at her words. He didn't expect her to be so...open, so accepting. For a moment, he remains still, his fingers tightening in her hair, his other hand moving from her hip to the small of her back, pressing her firmly against him.

"You...are dangerous" he murmurs, his voice rough and filled with a mix of desire and a hint of warning. "You can't just...say things like that."

"I know...but, I don't want to burden you. So...please do not hold yourself back lord Gyousou" she says softly, looking up at him through half lidded eyes. Maybe this was more of her selfish desire than her wishing to take a burden from her master, or maybe both. She wasn’t sure, and she didn’t think she quite cared enough to try and figure it out. Gyousou lets out a strangled, ragged breath as he gazes down at her. Her words, her look, the way she was pressed against him, it was driving him mad. He didn’t know if he could hold back anymore, not with her so willingly submitting to him.

"You...have no idea what you're asking" he murmurs, his voice a low growl. In one swift motion, he pushes her back, pinning her against the wall, his body pressed firmly against hers, his grip on her tight, possessive. "I think I do, so...please don't restrain yourself anymore...lord Gyousou" she says softly, looking up at him. Her words, her eyes, her complete and utter submission, it was driving him absolutely mad. He stares down at her for a moment, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and something primal, before finally giving in.

He grabs her wrists in a firm, almost bruising grip, pinning them against the wall above her head with one hand. His body is pressed firmly against hers, his body pinning her against the hard surface. He leans in close, his lips just barely grazing her ear. "I am warning you, Haru. Don’t say something you will regret" he says, speaking the name he gifted her. The name that makes her his Kirin out of them all. It meant “Spring”, it was given to her to represent the new beginnings of Tai now that they had finally had a king and kirin to guide them to a bright, sunny future.

"I won't, I hear your warning I...simply wish to ignore it" she says honestly, a shiver running up her spine. Gyousou's grip on her wrists tightens at her words, his body pressing her even harder against the wall. He lets out a low grunt. "You really...are going to be the death of me" he husks, his voice a low, ragged murmur. His lips brush against her ear once more, before trailing down to her neck. Tairin doesn't stop him, allowing him access to her neck as the collar of her kimono comes undone a little, allowing some of her collarbone to show. A rare sight.

Gyousou buries his face in her neck, his lips trailing along the now exposed skin, his body pressed so close to hers she could feel his every exhalation. With every touch, every caress, his desire only seemed to grow stronger. He releases her wrists, his hands roaming over her body before settling on her hips, his fingertips digging into her flesh through her kimono layers. He nips and sucks at her skin, his kisses now rough and hungry. He pulls her hips against his, another grunt escaping his lips. "lord Gyousou..." Tairin lets out a soft mew without realizing it, the feeling of his hands over her kimono, it was new and a little scary but...it didn't feel wrong.

Gyousou's body tenses when he hears her moan, the sound sending a spike of desire through him. She was rarely vocal, and to hear her respond like this...it only fueled the fire that was rapidly growing out of control. His hands find their way to her hips again. He doesn't respond, merely continuing his assault on her neck, his kisses becoming more impatient, more demanding. He wanted to touch her more, to do something he knew he shouldn't do, and feel her body against his, skin to skin. To create a relationship never before heard of between Ruler and kirin.

Relationships like this, between a ruler and their kirin were unheard of, taboo even. He should stop, he needed to stop, what if the Heavens punished them for this sinful act? He needed to get a grip and pull away, but...he didn't want to. The moment his hands make their way to her obi and start undoing it, when stepping back to create a bit of space between their bodies, allowing the outer layers of her kimono to fall undone he realizes; he didn't care. That he couldn't stop, he didn't want to stop. The moment her kimono fell completely to the floor, revealing more skin to his hungry gaze, he knew there was no going back. All thoughts of propriety, of taboo, vanished from his mind, replaced by an overwhelming desire to claim her, to make her his in a way no kirin had belonged to their master before.

Gyousou couldn't help but stare. Tairin was usually clothed in layers of clothes that hid her figure and gave her a modest look. But without them he could see what she truly looked like, she had a curvy body, both her bosom and ass were nicely sized, enough for him to grip firmly with his large hands. He pushed against her again, pinning her against the wall as he tugged at the inner layers of her kimono, revealing more and more of her to him. He leaned in, his lips trailing over her exposed collar and shoulders, his hands roaming freely over her body, exploring every inch of her skin.

There Tairin stood, completely bare before her master, her owner, her king. But...she didn't feel as tense or scared as she thought she would. "Your heart is racing" Gyousou says softly, kissing her neck gently. "Do I scare you?" He asks softly. "No, lord Gyousou. I...am just nervous" she says, gasping softly between her words when she feels Gyousou suck on a particular sensitive mark he made on her neck. Gyousou lets out a low chuckle, the feeling of her body shuddering and the soft gasp she lets out from his touch going right to his head.

"You're being honest once again" he murmurs, his lips still trailing over her neck, her collarbone. He stops at the sensitive mark, applying a little more pressure, his tongue trailing over it. "You've nothing to be nervous about" he whispers, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "All of this...it's for you. All for you, my dear kirin".

"lord Gyousou, I...am a little...worried," she says, small moans escaping her as she tries to speak. The sound of her moans, the way she was pressing against him, how bare and vulnerable she was before him...it was driving him mad with desire. "Worried about what, my dear?" he murmurs, his lips trailing back up to her ear, his teeth nipping at the lobe. His hands roam over her body once more, seemingly everywhere at once, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

"What if...we are caught, if someone walks in?" She asks softly. She knew no one, not even herself who held a rank only second to the man before her, would dare to step into the king's private study without permission. But the thought still danced faintly in her mind. Gyousou lets out a husky chuckle at her words, his lips grazing over her ear. "Trust me, my dear. We won't be interrupted" he murmurs, his hands roaming further down her body.

"No one would dare enter without my permission" he says, his voice fi

[ghost-reader07]

The Twelve Kingdoms+text posts Part 6

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

[ghost-reader07]

the twelve kingdoms (2002) op

[ghost-reader07]

MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DNI; YOU WILL BE BLOCKED

Tags/Warning(s): Non-Con/Dub-Con, Cum-eating, Gangbang, Ghosts (Male & Female), Abandoned Haunted Hotel, Unedited

The storm was raging outside the car—deafeningly loud; each thunderclap shook the windows, rattling so much you thought they would break. You had just returned from a little excursion, thinking you could beat the storm, even taking an apparent shortcut to ensure your success.

How foolish you were to think you could beat a storm. The wind was violent, the rain harsh and unforgiving, blurring the sight of the roads—a sort of punishment for your stupidity and impatience. It was a miracle that you hadn’t crashed yet.

You were forced to take shelter in a nearby hotel in the middle of nowhere. It was an odd thing—no parked cars (besides your own), and no people to be seen or found. But you just assumed it was because no one was foolish enough to go driving in a storm.

A sort of heaviness loomed inside your lungs when you touched the handle, so cold and frigid. But with your clothes utterly drenched, body shivering from the cold, you knew you couldn’t stay here or seek refuge in the car, hoping for the best.

Once you stepped foot inside the hotel, a sense of unease draped over you. An unbelievably cold, prickling sensation caressed your skin, and if you listened close enough, you could hear the haunting melody of laughter.

It was strangely empty, with no person in sight, staff or otherwise. Yet the lights were on, only flickering whenever lightning struck. For a moment, you think it's abandoned.

The silence was eerie, the haunting melody of laughter mixed in with the wind, so quiet, so indecipherable against the storm screaming just outside the building. You paid no mind to it, dismissing it to the rampage of the thunderstorm.

The lobby was empty, frightfully so. Yet the lights were on, only flickering whenever lightning struck. You were slow and careful in your steps as you approached the front, tense as if someone would pop out at any moment. The area was spacious, with warm lighting, doused in maroon and what appeared to be mahogany.

Much too expensive for you. Truly a wonder why there wasn’t a single person in sight, staff or otherwise.

You walked up to the counter, a soft and cautious “hello?” leaving your lips, craning your neck to catch any sight of life, backpack heavy on your shoulders. A cold breeze, almost akin to a human breath, brushes against your cheek. You whip your head in that direction, expecting to find a person, but what you see instead is a key. There’s a number attached to it.

609

That wasn’t there before.

Despite the alarming sense of danger ringing in your mind, you took it. Your clothes stuck to your skin, water dripping off of you, and you were freezing. You couldn’t wait this out in your car, and with luck, perhaps there was hot water here. A hot shower sounds fantastic right now. You repeated reassurances in your mind, breathing in deep before approaching the elevator.

The room was nice. Wonderful. Spacious. A very nice queen-sized bed with matching nightstands, draped in the same colors as the lobby. Warm light caressed the room, and a secluded yet comfortable atmosphere emanated from it. Oddly, no windows in here or anywhere on this floor, just mirrors and antique-looking objects.

The bathroom was also a bit odd, mirrors upon mirrors, your form accounted for from every angle. An interesting design choice, but you couldn’t complain.

The room was great, but the bath? Even better. After scrubbing away everything that made you feel filthy, you set up a nice, relaxing hot bath. You could feel your stress melting away; the exhaustion crept into your eyes as you sank deep into a sense of comfort and tranquility. It wasn’t long before you slipped into unconsciousness, surrounded by warmth.

You “dream” of cold hands touching you—groping you, running their hands all over your naked body. You’re shrouded in darkness, yet you feel everything. They fondle your breasts with a rough sort of desperation, pinching and tweaking your nipple while the others pawed and grabbed at your ass and thighs.

Their freezing hands were a stark contrast to the warmth of the water, and you shuddered from the sensation. Your clit practically begged for attention as the ghostly hands danced around it, so you did, caressing it gently.

The phantom hands moved to hook your legs over the edge of the tub, spreading you open before parting your lips and sliding two thick fingers into your aching cunt. You moaned at the feeling of their rough fingers stretching you open, slowly pumping in and out of you as they continued to squeeze and grab your breasts.

You gripped the edge of the bathtub as you rubbed your clit faster, they moving in tandem, matching your pace. You could also feel a sense of amusement from the phantoms of your dream—amusement in your reactions. You chased your peak to get that delicious bliss of pure ecstasy.

You could feel it—feel it in the trembling of your legs and the pounding of your heart, pleasure rising. Close, closer, until—

You wake up with a start, water swishing as you sit up, panting. The phantom hands disappear along with your dream, leaving your pussy aching, throbbing. You’re confused, mind muddled, heart still pounding, blood buzzing underneath your skin.

It was odd enough that you were having a wet dream in a place like this, but stranger still, how vivid it was. You still feel the tingle of where they touched you, the sense of loss from their fingers inside you, and the frustration of a failed orgasm. It was jarring.

You try to shake it off, getting out of the tub and wrapping a towel around you. You reach for the clothes you left by the sink, but they’re not there. You must’ve left them on the bed. The mirrors are foggy; it takes you a minute to realize something is in the condensation.

H E L L O

With a multitude of handprints smeared on the surface. Your heart drops.

You feel something prod at your slit, still hot and pulsing from your supposed dream. You jolt, looking around frantically, clutching your towel, only to be met with nothing. The air shifts, and the fog on the mirror clears up from the sudden drop in temperature.

You feel phantom hands caressing your cunt, rubbing your sensitive bud with its rough fingers. You take a step back, trying to comprehend what was happening, yet all you feel is the throbbing of your swollen clit as it continues to stroke and caress your cunt.

Haze clouds your mind; your skin burns, and you can’t even move. Next thing you know, you’re being lifted in the air, hands holding the back of your thighs before plunging its cock into your dripping pussy, a choked gasp falling from your lips. Your shocked eyes meet yours in the mirror, a haze of lust in the depths.

You don’t get time to process seeing yourself lifted off the ground, floating, nor the sensation of its cock filling your cunt. It starts rutting up into you, slamming you down on its fat cock with vigor. Your hands grip its invisible shoulders to keep you steady, helpless in its grasp as fucks you, cock so deep inside you it has you already shaking from pleasure.

The mirrors capture every angle of your pussy getting ruthlessly fucked, invisible cock splitting and stretching you open. Wet sounds fill the bathroom, and your moans get louder as you near the ecstasy you tried to reach earlier. Your walls flutter around it as you—

Its seed spurts inside you before you reach it.

It stays settled inside you for a moment, then slips out, green goo covered its cock, the same goo leaking out of your hole. The sight turns you on more than you’d like to admit, pussy clenching around nothing as your body begs more and more.

You feel yourself getting transferred to, what you can only assume is, another phantom—hands replacing the other, indents in your skin as it spreads you a little wider, something blunt prodding at you once more.

Perhaps you should be a little more opposed to what is happening, but when you feel hands spread your cheeks and another cock prodding at your ass, all you do is buzz in anticipation.

It’s not long before they both sink into you from both ends, cock slipping into your cunt easily, while the other takes more time to work you open. They both seem to fall into a rhythm, pumping in and out of you with an increasingly brutish pace, whimpers and moans falling out from your lips.

You feel stretched to the brim, your gaze falling to the reflections in the mirrors, watching as your holes get fucked open over and over again, pussy drooling around its girthy cock.

They fuck you so deeply, hitting all the right spots as they continue to ram into you roughly. The pleasure is almost overwhelming as you feel the heat building again, begging for your invisible assailants to finally let you cum.

It’s not long before you fall over, cumming hard with a scream, whole body shaking from the pleasure. Their movements turn wild, phantom hands digging into your skin as they thrust into you more fiercely, more deeply before cumming inside you.

You pant, still shaking from the aftershocks of bliss, as the haze slowly lifts from your mind. The phantoms drop you carelessly, and you harshly hit the ground. Your skin stings, yes, but you focus more on the green goo dribbling out of your cunt.

You touch it; it’s warm in contrast to their cold presence. Sticky. It clings to your fingers. It tastes sour.

The storm had calmed; you don’t know how much, considering there were no windows on this floor, but from what you were able to hear, perhaps you could leave. Though you would be walking out of here with a limp.

You keep thinking back to the feeling of getting fucked by those two ghosts, momentarily thinking you imagined it, but that feeling of overwhelming pleasure (and the sting it left you with after) proved to you it was pretty real. Deep in your mind, you wanted it to happen again—wanted to be used as a toy for their pleasure, the very thought had you pressing your thighs together.

You pushed those thoughts aside, trying to brush them off (although it was proving difficult to do so).

The elevator, like everything in this hotel, was spacious and dressed in the same colors as your room. The elevator ride wasn’t long, or it wasn’t supposed to be. Coming up, it was quite short; however, going down, it seemed pretty long. The air had grown a little chillier, goose bumps rising on your skin.

The elevator finally stopped, and the doors opened to reveal… the wrong floor. You scrunched your brows in confusion, a soft “what the…” leaving your lips. Maybe this was to be expected, considering this hotel was haunted (with strangely horny ghosts).

The thought had your heart beat picking up, silently hoping the ghost would pay you another mind-bending visit. The doors shortly closed on their own, continuing its path to the lobby. You hesitantly shrugged it off, hoping the ride would be over soon.

The familiar feeling of cold hands brushes against your breasts, almost tentative. It squeezes your breasts, pinching and pulling, and you see the imprints of its hands through your shirt. The elevator dings once more, and another pair of hands joins in, stroking your already wet cunt, playing with your clit, teasingly slow. You rock your hips for more, growing desperate for some friction.

The elevator continues down, doors opening at every floor and letting more in. You feel a stiffening cock grining against your ass, and you let it. Soon, they have you on all fours, hands grabbing everywhere as they shove their cock into your drooling pussy, pounding into you almost immediately.

Something blunt presses at your lips, and you open wide for it, welcoming it into your mouth. You waste no time, swirling your tongue at its tip and sucking.

The phantoms are pretty eager to thrust their cocks into you, stuffing you full from all sides as another fills your ass. They fuck you with no care, nor remorse, using you as their fleshlight as if they hadn’t had something pretty to stuff their cocks into in weeks.

Your needy whines and moans are muffled by the one stuffing your mouth, hand gripping your hair as you gag around it, spit dribbling down your chin. The elevator keeps moving, ghosts trading places once they finish inside you, having you cumming over and over on their cocks, swallowing down every drop of their seed as another fucks your mouth.

Your invisible assailants pass you around, mind fizzling from the amount of pleasure you’re experiencing as they continue to plunge their cocks in your ass and cunt over and over again, abusing your poor holes until you‘re reduced into nothing but a fucked out mess.

You don’t notice when the elevator opens its door to the lobby, only to shut it closed again, going even farther down. You’re too busy piecing yourself back together once they finish with you—limbs weak and trembling, panting and exhausted, their cum leaking out your holes, absolutely filled to the brim.

Your consciousness wanes and fizzles before you slump to the ground, passed out.

When you awaken, the first thing you notice is… you. Your reflection gazing back at you. More mirrors? You’re lying in an unfamiliar bed, hands cuffed and tied to the ends. A faint giggle echoes around the room, your eyes flit about looking for the source, but it’s too dark to see anything.

Your head is still fuzzy, and your limbs feel heavy; you can’t even struggle against the restraints. Goosebumps rise on your skin from the cold; your nipples perk in the air. It’s only then that you realize that you’re naked, clothes nowhere to be found. You expected to feel gross, to see crusted ghostly cum all over you, but it seemed almost as if you were wiped clean.

How long were you out?

You hear soft murmurs in the dark, making you feel fuzzy and dazed as if something was luring you under a spell. Soft hands caress your supple flesh, grabbing at the fat of your stomach, grabbing at the fat of your hips, as more joined. Hands, hands, hands—always touching, playing with you, dragging around your body. As if trained, your body can’t help but want more.

They play with the heat between your thighs, these touches much more gentle than the ones you’ve come to know. You hear voices—soft, sultry voices—promise to be gentle, promise to be better than “those brutes” from before.

You’re legs are already spread wide apart, cuffs tight on your ankles, keeping you unable to resist even if you wanted to. But with the sweet whispers in the dark along with the delicious sensations their hands bring, you don’t think you mind much.

Something warm and wet trails across your breasts, sucking and swirling around your nipples, drawing delicate and hushed moans from your throat. Another finds its way to your clit, lapping and working its mouth on your pussy, making you pliant and needy.

It’s slow and sensual, bucking your hips as each drag of their tongue whining for more, just a bit. They lap at your cunt, savoring the juices before sinking two fingers into you. They take their time bringing you to the edge, making sure you feel pleasure in slow, steady pumps—a stark contrast to the previous ghosts, who were quick and harsh, eager.

Plush lips meet your own, fitting against yours easily, and you make no move to reject them. Perhaps a bit too eager to reciprocate, to keep your mouth busy as you rise to the edge. With a particularly hard suck on your clit, you fall over, crumbling in the ghost’s mouth with a wanton cry.

The phantoms coo at your reaction, praising you for being such a “good girl”. The ghosts pull away for a moment before they’re on you again. Loosening a restraint to lift your leg, grinding your cunt against theirs, clits bumping and rubbing together, desperation has you moving your hips in tandem. The friction as you arch your back, small stars popping behind your eyes.

Another has occupied your mouth, sitting on your face as you eat her out, straining against the cuffs as she rocks her hips, moaning into them. Their juices cover the lower half of your face as you try to drink it all up, sliding your tongue between the phantom’s folds as you tremble from the pleasure the other brings you.

You suck and you lick, desperate to feel their release on your tongue, possibly feel it shoot into your mouth. Their motions get a bit rougher, faster as you whimper and moan underneath them, pulling at your hair, nails digging into skin. You’re practically suffocating, but you don’t mind, feeling yourself teetering on the edge once more.

A hand strikes against your ass, it stings, but it just turns you on more. Another smack as you burst, cumming hard with a muffled scream, legs trembling as they fuck you through it. Juices flood your tongue as you do your best to swallow every drop, eyes threatening to roll in the back of your head.

They wait as you come down, twitching every so often until your mind finally clears. For a moment, you think that’s the end of it. You thought wrong; they let you recover just to start it all over again. Fucking you with their fingers, eating you out, gagging you as they play with your pretty cunt. Their demeaning yet sweet giggles and words echo in your ears as they bring you to new heights over and over again.

You don’t know how many days passed until they finally let you go. You stumble out of the hotel doors, with weak legs, thinking, perhaps, you should come again sometime soon.