Ohhh! Can You Do Sfw/nsfw Hcs For Syzoth As Well ?

ohhh! can you do sfw/nsfw hcs for syzoth as well ?

tw: for mentions of pregnancy tehe sorry can't help it with syzoth

SFW

His methods of flirting is very different than what you are used to. You come from different cultures after all

Syzoth will present his interest through very low humming when he's around you. It is a very deep yet loud sound that sends vibrations all throughout him. You often do not know the intention behind these bellows and will often compliment on how well he hums

He does not stop there either. He'll serve you drinks and he'll blow small bubbles through a straw, making the liquid practically dance. This would make you laugh and Syzoth confused and frustrated. There's got to be a better way, right?

There is and its his last attempt at courtship through the ways he is familiar with. He'll approach you and encroach into your personal space. You open your mouth to question him but you're stopped. His nose comes to ghost across yours in a feathery dance and soon all of his efforts at wooing you are revealed. You two often laugh about it

He is incredibly sensitive to touch. What may feel like but a trace for you is a whole new world of vibrations for him. He shivers and hums when you lay your hands upon him. He always leans into your touch

Although he is sensitive to touch, he often seeks it out. He is rather cold majority of the time and your natural warmth is a wonderful comfort. There are times were he will fall asleep leaning against you or when you're in his arms. You don't have the heart to wake him

Syzoth has his doubts about his appearance. He knows the skin he wears is not his own but an image he conjures. He worries what you think of his natural form

He does not hide himself from you, you don't let him. He's done enough lingering in the shadows and having to hide. You would do well to let him know he is unjudged by you

When he shows you his natural form, he is nervous and so are you. There is a moment of pause but slowly you put your hands together, yours is so very small compared to his. There need no words to be said, you both understand each other with just that sensation of touch

NSFW

Syzoth would be lying if he said he didn't think about sex with his partner often

He enjoys masturbation and indulges frequently. His hominid anatomy is rather fun to explore but that is a secret he is not keen on telling

His partner is the drug that he just can't get enough of. Your scent is what riles him up the most. He will often take articles of your clothing but his motivations not entirely innocent

What's been taking is often used to help him get off. He'll stroke himself with it, finishing at the thought of your scents joining and creating something new and intoxicating

It is not often that he verbally requests for intimacy. He does so through gestures. He will start with light touches, seemingly pure. They are anything but as they begin to morph into sensual sensations

Once he gets going, it becomes difficult for him to stop and soon he is rutting himself against his partner panting and wanting

When having sex he wants his partner as close to him as possible. The heat of your skin drives him to a rapturous stupor

His preferred positions are anything that bring your bodies closer together. He does, however, seem to enjoy what some call the mating press or valedictorian. What does he call it? Pure intoxicating bliss

Syzoth is very vocal during sex. He doesn't let a single sound from him go muffled and he doesn't want yours to be either. He sings for you and you sing for him

He prefers to finish inside his partner. Why? because it is very instinctual for him. He so desperately wants to breed his partner, wants them completely filled with the essence he provides.

Once he finished, he keeps himself inside his partner. Not a single drop must spill. It's almost as if he wants his partner pregnant. That's because he does. It is a huge, and I'm talking huge, turn on for him

If pregnancy were to ever happen? You thought there was frequent sex before? Oh man, you haven't seen anything yet

syzoth x reader brainrot below the cut

• Your first kiss is kinda weird. Syzoth isn't used to giving/recieving affection in his human form, so your faces bump into each other a few times before you finally meet your target. His eyes are open the whole time, and you try to hold back giggles as not to discourage him.

• As he becomes more accustomed to kissing you, makeout sessions also become a thing you tutor him on. He seemed curious the first time you slipped your tongue into his mouth, not disliking it but also not really understanding it. So you guide him in moving his mouth against yours, and it doesn't take long for his prehensile, forked tongue to slip past your lips as he wraps his arms around you.

• Sometimes his long, scaly tail makes an appearance out of nowhere, even when the rest of his body is visibly human. You have learned through accidentally petting it before that it is... a particularly sensitive zone for him. You still blush when you think about the soft moan that escaped his mouth the first time you ran your fingers along the individual scales, hard muscle lying underneath.

• Syzoth is gentleman when it comes to kissing and caressing you... until you ask him to do otherwise. When you urge him to be a little more rough, to leave marks along your neck and grind down into you like an animal in heat, well, he can certainly deliver.

• Foreplay is also a newer experience for the Zaterran, at least in his human form. When your encounters start to get spicier, you have to show him the ropes a little here and there, but he's a quick leaner.

He takes immense pleasure in fingering you, the smell of your arousal driving him wild as he elicits whines and moans from your slackened jaw. Eating you out also becomes one of his favorite activities (and yours as well), as his tongue can drive you absolutely wild and make you cum like no one else ever has.

As for recieving, he's a little shy about it at first, but with time opens up to your gentle caresses and strokes, being driven wild whenever you have your hands on him. It's a constant struggle for him not to cum immediately when you take his length into your mouth, his pale green eyes rolling back into his head and legs shaking beneath you.

• He's very versatile when it comes to sex. There aren't any complaints if you want him to top you (though you do develop a system of how hard you want it, after a while, as some days you want to get dicked down like it's mating season, others, you want it nice and slow). Although he'll blush bright green if you point it out, he absolutely loves it when you're on top, and enjoys holding on to your waist as you ride him.

• He's a cold-blooded boy, so he'll definitely choose to snuggle close to you after activities, or during the night, to share some of your heat and take a little nap.

• Taking him to Walmart and buying him a tupperware of live crickets from their fishing section (his fav snack).

Not sure if I’m asking this right but if you’re still taking requests for kinktober could you do Daryl Dixon and began for threesome? If that’s not available maybe either one of them for public, breeding, or non con🫣🥵🫠

Daddy’s Play Thing

Summary: Negan tries to not play favorites, but it’s obvious you're his favorite wife, especially after he shares you with his prize prisoner.

Pairing: Negan x reader x Daryl Dixon

Warnings: swearing, Negan being Negan, threesome (pit roast), oral (female and male receiving)

Word count: 2k

This was written for kinktober, using the space “threesome”

A/N: I hope you like it Anon!!!

Everyone in the sanctuary resented you, even Negan’s wife. As a wife, you don’t really care knowing you wouldn’t survive outside of the walls. Agreeing to Negan’s offer wasn’t a hard deal to take and you still haven’t regretted taking it, despite the resentment from everyone else.

Walking down the hallways, you look for your ever loving and dickhead husband. You knew he had a meeting this morning with the other saviors and you also know how mad he gets when you interrupt him, but now he’s free and somewhere. Scouring the cafeteria and gardens, you can’t find him anywhere until you check his bedroom. He sits on his couch with Darly Dixon sitting across from him. His shaggy hair covers his eyes that you know are pointed at the floor, not daring to look at you in the eyes.

“Well well well, look at what we have here,” your husband’s booming voice announces, “why aren’t you a pretty sight darling? Come sit on daddy’s lap.”

You bring your lingerie covered body over to Negan who leans back and pats his thighs. You take your seat on his legs, leaning into his side and pecking him on his lips.

“Hello sweetheart,” he smiles, “I’m sorry I’ve been busy all morning. I was told you were looking for me.”

“It’s okay, I knew you were busy.”

He smiles at your thoughtfulness before turning back to Daryl. 

“You see Daryl, most people here know respect, besides from you. My wife here doesn’t get a lot of respect and it makes me sad. I can’t help who my favorites are,” he says raising his hand to cup your chin, “and I think it’s a damn shame she’s treated the way she is for something she can’t control.”

Daryl doesn’t respond, but he does look up to meet you in the eyes. The bags under his eyes are worse than you have ever seen. Although you don’t really know the man, you do know he looks terrible. Negan’s actions sometimes were inexcusable and sometimes you feel bad that Daryl is here in the first place, but you remember why he is.

“I think people need to learn their places,” Negan continues, “I think you need to learn your fucking lesson. Darling, go sit on Daryl’s lap.”

You get up and listen to your husband obediently. Sitting on Daryl’s lap, you see his eyes go wide and his body get tense. He doesn’t know what to do in fear of Negan cutting off his hand or head. Wrapping your arm around his neck, you get close to Daryl and place a hand on his chest.

“No need to be scared,” you whisper, “I won’t bite, unlike him.”

You could have sworn you saw the corner of Daryl’s mouth lift into a smirk, but it quickly fades as Negan stands up and walks over to his mini bar.

“I think you deserve to be rewarded for being so obedient the last few days,” Negan chuckles, “Y/N, why don’t you give him a little kiss.”

You don’t hesitate for a second, moving into Daryl’s space. You guide his head to face you with your hand before leaning into his mouth, taking his lips by yours. They’re dry and rough, just like the rest of Daryl. He doesn’t reciprocate the kiss and you can tell he is still staring at Negan, nervous about his intentions.

“Don’t be such a scaredy-cat, Dixon. Kiss her back, you deserve this.”

Daryl’s hand flies up and grabs your face, holding you closer to his face as he kisses you back hard. You moan into his mouth as his tongue slips in, fighting for dominance. Crawling to straddle him, you start to grind your barely clothed pussy against the janitor uniform Negan put him in. You can heard Negan pouring himself a whiskey, confident that he is staring at the sight in front of him.

“You better feel fucking lucky,” Negan chuckles, “I never share my wives, let alone my favorite. She just happens to like being shared.”

Daryl’s hands move from your face and hair to the round of your ass, squeezing you against him and creating more friction.You moan louder into his mouth and you can hear him slip out a growl, not loud enough for Negan to hear, but you do.

“Get on the bed sweetheart,” Negan orders.

You pulls away from Daryl, much to your disliking, and get on the bed. You lay on your back with your legs spread out, barely hiding anything from the two men in front of you. Negan chuckles at the sight while Negan stares at you in awe, not sure why he gets this moment. 

“You can approach her.”

Daryl hesitantly stands up and walking over to the edge of the bed. Your eyes follow his body that’s hidden by the jumpsuit and your mind wanders to ideas of what he looks like underneath. You have only seen him with the jumpsuit on, not having visited Alexandria before his capture.

“Now this shit is what I mean,” Negan growls, “Show my wife some damn respect.”

He kicks the back of Daryl’s knees so he falls down, head inches away from the center of your pussy. You can feel yourself flutter at the proximity of Daryl’s face and his hot warm breath lightly grazing your folds doesn’t help. 

“See how she is just fucking dripping!” Negan laughs, “that’s how you want a woman to be. That’s a woman you don’t want to keep waiting.”

Negan walks around the side of the bed and sits next to where your legs are. You look at him with big eyes, begging someone to do something to help you release the feeling forming in your core. It’s almost unbearable how bad you want them to touch you, but they both stare at your shaking messy form for a few moments. Negan relieves you by sliding your black lace panting to the side and pushing Daryl’s head into your pussy, his mouth landing right on your hole.

You gasp from the sudden contact of Daryl’s warm mouth on your pussy, throwing your head back the second he starts moving his mouth. His tongue slides amongst your folds as he slowly starts attaching himself to your clit. Sensations run through your body between the feeling and low chuckle coming from Negan. You look up to see him holding Daryl’s head down, not letting him back up or breathe. The feeling starts to become overwhelming and you can feel yourself starting to come undone. 

As your breath hitches, Negan pulls Daryl away and replaces him with his own tongue and mouth. Daryl falls back on his ass as Negan continues to eat you out, sliding one finger into your core and teasing your g spot inside. You let out a loud moan as you cum around his finger. He smiles into your folds as the taste of your come registers on his tongue.

“Mmm mmmm mmm,” he groans, “I could have your pussy for every fucking meal.”

You giggle at his crass language as you scoot farther up the bed, knowing that this night isn’t over. Daryl stands up off the floor, shooting daggers at Negan with his stare.

“Sorry Daryl,” he laughs, “just because I’m sharing doesn't mean you get the damn whole experience.”

Negan reaches behind you and unclasps your bra, exposing your boobs. The room being slightly cold makes your nipples hard and Negan is drooling over them. He leans up and takes your left boob in his mouth, sucking and swelling over your hard nub with his tongue. The contrast of his warm mouth against your cold skin is almost unbearable and you need more. You start whining which makes Negan laughs.

“I think she needs something else,” Negan chuckles, “Sweetheart, how about you suck Daryl’s cock? Huh would you like that?”

You nod as you crawl to the end of the bed, looking up to Daryl with glossy eyes full of lust. You reach up to the hem of Daryl’s sweats and pull down his pants just enough for his cock to spring out hard. It’s nothing impressive, but certainly not small or disappointing. With a big smile plastered on your face, you lean forward and take his tip in your mouth, making his jaw drop.

“Good girl,” Negan praises, “Such a good girl, doing what daddy tells you.”

Negan moves around behind you and slides your panties down your legs. Slick drips out of your pussy and down your legs, making your husband laughs.

“Aw fuck look at that shit, she’s so fucking wet from sucking you off Dixon.”

Daryl lets out a harsh groan as he tangles his fingers in your hair. He shudders as you moan on his cock, sending vibrations through his body. 

“You like it when my pretty wife sucks your cock, don’t you?” Negan asks.

“Fuck, yes,” he growls as you take him deeper in your mouth, almost hitting the back of your throat and making your eyes tear up.

The sound of a zipper rings out and then the feeling of skin brushing up against your pussy. Negan chuckles as he slowly pushes the tip of his dick in your pussy, using his hands to spread your legs wider. You’re pushes down onto your elbows, arching your back for your husband behind you. 

Negan pushes himself fully into you before letting go. All resistance is released as he slams his long hard cock in and out of your pussy. He groans loudly as he fucks you relentlessly. The movements of him slamming his hips into you juts you into Daryl, taking his cock even deeper. Tears form in your eyes as the sensations rush through you, the ball in your stomach becoming tighter and tighter. 

Daryl lets out a deep moan as his grip in your hair becomes tighter and tighter. You can feel his hard cock twitch in your mouth. Smiling, you look up as you continue hollowing out your cheeks. Negan starts to fuck you faster, making you choke and gag on Daryl’s dick. You feel him start to lose his rhythm, knowing both men are close.

You start to moan as the ball in your core starts to bubble up. Negan groans as you clench around him, getting tighter and tighter while Daryl starts to falter from the vibrations of your moan. A warm hot liquid shoots into your mouth as Daryl lets out a loud moan. He grabs the back of your head, slamming into the back of your throat. Swallowing it all, you smile as you lick off the rest of his cum from his dick, causing him to flinch in overstimulation.

There’s no time to think as Negan continues to slam his hips into yours. You cant think as the pleasure turns into slight pain as he slaps your ass unrelentlessly.

“Cum for me baby girl,” he growls, “cum all over daddy’s cock.”

That’s all your body needed. Your core twists and squeezes as you let go. Negan isn't far behind and snaps into you, spilling his cum deep inside you. He continues to fuck you through both of your orgasms. You scream out in pleasure as your orgasm gets drawn  out.

“That’s it princess, good girl,” Negan says, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your head.

You collapse on the bed, attempting to catch your breath after the brutal beating your pussy just took, your whole body aching. Standing up, Negan goes to pour himself another drink. Daryl looks between the two of you, still breathing heavily.

“Get out,” Negan groans.

“Wha-“

“I said get out.”

Daryl doesn’t hesitate and immediately gets on his feet, rushing out the door. The sound of glass hitting a wood tables intrigues you. Opening your eyes, you spot your husband putting down his whiskey glass and walking back over to you. He stands at the end of the bed with a big shit eating grin on his face.

“Oh honey,” he says, stroking your hair, “we’re done yet.”

e-mail. || Roman Roy || smut

Pairing: Sub!Roman Roy x F!Reader

Summary: You're roman's assistant, and after delivering breakfast something clicks.

Word count: 2.154

18+ only! More under the cut

Warning(s): SMUT, aka 18+ only! Sub Roman, mommy kink, praise kink, hand jobs, come eating,

A/n: tysm @prettywordsblog for the request!! :DD i love your writing so it was a pleasure to get requests from you (my requests are still open, fyi)

_______________________

You've been wearing pencil skirts and heels a lot these days.

It's not that you particularly enjoy wearing them. Running errands like "get me a bagel" and "actually, I want a cinnamon roll instead, so get me one of those" do not become easier with red bottoms, and the cold of New York in autumn nips at your barely clad legs with ferocity. 

But when you wear them, Roman becomes... docile.

Maybe it's the fact that the heels make you taller than him. Or shit, maybe he has a sexy assistant fantasy, who knows. All you know is that when you dress the way you now do, he hesitates when he snidely asks you to write his e-mails for him. Instead, he carefully suggests you should do them, not a singular perverted comment slipping in.

So now, as you walk out of the elevator, you hear the clicking of your heels echo. It's far too early to be in office, evident by the lack of your peers in the bull pit.

You huff as you approach Roman's office and see him lounging around, legs on his desk as he leans back, staring at his phone. You don't even bother knocking, simply swinging the door open. "I know it's like, three in the morning, but can you at least try to pretend you're being productive?" 

He lets out a huff, dramatically rolling his eyes as he flops his legs down. "Yes, mommy," he mockingly whines out, staring at the plastic bag swinging from your arm. "What's in the bag?"

"A gun, so I can finally kill you," you casually throw out as you place the bag on the glass coffee table, throwing off your long jacket onto the leather chair he has. Roman stands up, amusement twinkling in his doe-like eyes as he walks over to sit on his couch. "Y'know, I could totally report you for saying that. That's like, a legit death threat. I could SWAT you." With a tiny jump he hops on the chair, shoes still on as he crouches on top of the couch's pillows.

You can't help but frown. Sometimes you feel like he isn't a total nepotism baby, but instead some kind of orphan child raised by wolves. "Don't do that with your shoes on, Roman, it's unhygienic." With another eye roll he lets himself fall onto the chair, resting his one leg on the thigh of the other. He leans back, arms reaching over the couch's back cushions. 

You grab the contents of the bag and place them on the coffee table as you hum a random tune. The smell of a breakfast spread makes you hungry as hell, but you don't have another break until six hours from now. Silently, Roman watches as you place the various foiled up plates down and remove the foil. 

Roman eyes the dishes-- an omelette, some sausages, bacon, hash browns, and a paper cup of coffee that he's sure is from his favorite café. "Okay, this is fuckin' weird. What's the catch? Did you get a chef to make all of this arsenic-infused? Because as my assistant, you're also my taste tester, so I'm not eating until I see you poison yourself first," he rambles, cautiously watching you place napkins, a fork and knife down.

"This is a congratulatory breakfast, so just shut up and be grateful." 

He raises his brows at you. "The fuck are you saying congrats for?" With the tiniest smile you could stomach giving him, you throw the plastic trash in the bin. "The Oplex deal, Roman. You were the one who ended up buttering the guy up," you explain. 

His eyes widen for only a second before returning to their neutral, lidded state. "Oh please, all I did was give him a verbal fuckin' blowjob. Kendall did all the business-y shit," he mumbles out, picking up the cutlery with a solemn expression.

"I'd disagree, and I think Mr. Roy would, too," you mumble out in return. You watch Roman as he takes the first bite of his omelette and moans, quickly scurrying to get another bite. "Fuck, this is good. Is this laced? I'm gonna fire the shit out of you if this is laced," he says in between bites.

You grab your coat from the chair and hang it up, smiling as you continue watching him from the corner of your eye. "I'm flattered, but no. I'm just a good cook." You fight back a laugh as he very clearly chokes on his food. Professionalism and all that, if there's even any left between the two of you. 

"You're fucking with me." You plop down on the leather chair across from Roman, grabbing your thermos from your bag and taking a sip of tea as you shake your head. Wide-eyed, Roman gawks at you, then the food, and then you again. "You made me breakfast?"

You simply nod before pulling your laptop out. "I wasn't expecting you to be surprised by that. You're the one who always calls me mommy," you mumble out as you watch e-mails and messages immediately start to pop up. "Now finish up your food and get to work, before you upset mommy."

With a teasing grin you wait for Roman to shoot something back. Maybe something about you getting reported to HR, or about you wanting to suck his dick. Maybe even one of those jokes he makes about how his dad only hired you to be his personal babysitter. 

But instead, you simply get,

"Yes, mommy."

Confused, you look up from your laptop to see Roman quietly eating his food. His cheeks are dusted a ripe shade of red as he struggles to cut his food up, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. 

Something that should've clicked ages ago, clicks. So carefully, you stand up and walk to stand next to the couch he's sitting on. Roman's head looks up at you, eyes large and lashes fluttering. His bottom lip stutters, as if he wants to say something, but it doesn't successfully form itself.

"Do you need me to help you with your food, baby?"

Your heart pounds in your chest as you await his response. Nervously, he scans your face, licking his lips as he mulls over his options.

"Yes mommy," he yet again mumbles out.

You take a seat next to him and wordlessly grab the fork and knife from his hand. "I hope you know I'm proud of you for landing that deal, baby," you tell him as you put a piece of the sausage on the fork. He doesn't hesitate to open his mouth for you, obediently letting you feed him in his office, in a building his dad owns. 

"You made mommy so proud. When we finish up here, can you go sit at your desk for me?" He nods as you continue feeding him, which continues for another silent fifteen minutes.

After wiping his mouth for him, he quickly scurries to his desk, staring expectantly at you as you slowly make your way over. You place one hand on his chair, and the other on his desk, leaning over to stare at his computer screen. 

Roman lets out a soft groan as your tantalizing perfume overwhelms your senses. All he can do is look up at you as you start up his computer for him. "You have an e-mail you need to write regarding a contractual agreement with a production studio. Can you do that for me?"

It's like he's possessed by you, charmed into a spell of utter submission as he can only mutter another 'yes, mommy'. He opens his mail, and right as he starts typing you tut.

"Mommy wants to hear you say what you're typing, so I know you're doing well," you tell him, hand moving down from his chair to instead rest on his shoulder. Wordlessly, he nods, clears his throat and with a shaky voice reads aloud to you. 

"Dear Mr. Spruce, attached is a--" his voice dies in his throat as you let your hand slither down lower and lower, testing the waters as you fully bend over to reach his lap. "Keep going, sweetheart," you tell him, watching his twitchy hands hover over his keyboard. 

As he continues where he left off, you carefully unzip his trousers, loosening the top button and successfully revealing a dark imprint showing through his white Calvin Klein boxers. "Attached is a, uhh, a copy of the contract, fuck." 

The moan roman lets out as you pull his briefs down, allowing his erection to spring free and slap against his covered stomach, is whorelike. "Keep going, baby," you hum in his ear as you unbutton the bottom of his blouse a bit, wanting to avoid his pre-cum staining a perfectly good shirt.

"Please, mommy, fuck," he whines out as you let a singular finger drag over the tip of his cock, already causing his hips to rut up. "This e-mail needs to be sent today, Roman. Keep typing if you don't want me to get angry."

He nods fervently, shakily continuing to type as you carefully take his erect cock into your hands. He stumbles over his words, moans and hiccups filling your ears as you stroke him at a slow pace. You let your hand squeeze the base before going up, applying the perfect amount of pressure before rolling your thumb over his leaking slit. 

Roman's eyes quickly turn glassy with welled up tears as he's made to endure your slow, torturous movements, and as much as he wants to please you, writing the e-mail would be the actual death of him.

His hands shoot away from his keyboard to clutch onto his seat's armrests. With a wanton moan he throws his head back, eyes screwing shut as you slightly pick up your pace. "You've been such a good boy for mommy, Roman, haven't you?" you ask him, voice dangerously low and dangerously close to his ear. 

"Ngh-- yes, so so good f'r you, mommy." You kiss his forehead, earning yourself a cute whine. "W'na kiss you, please, mommy," he moans, head struggling to reach yours. "I'll give you a kiss after you finish the e-mail, alright sweetheart? For now," you tell him, grabbing his hand and leading two of his fingers into his own mouth, "I want you to be nice and quiet for me while I take care of you."

With a lack of hesitation he accepts his own fingers into his mouth, immediately sucking on them as his eyes flutter closed, and his moans grow strained. "Do you like it when mommy takes care of you, Roman?"

He nods, writhing under your every touch. He gasps around his own fingers as you pay extra attention to his tip, instant over stimulation taking over his body as his hips twitch up to meet your touch. "Mmh, would you let mommy fuck you?"

"Yes, fuck, yes," he groans out, removing his own fingers to instead find hold in his chair's armrests again. "W'na feel you around me, feel you-- fuck, feel you squeeze my cock." You increase the speed of your strokes, watching your boss fall apart in front of you. His hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead, and his lips are as rosy as they are glossy with spit.

The veins on his forehead and neck look like they're about to pop as you whisper in his ear. "You wanna feel mommy's cunt as she milks you dry?" All he can manage to let out is a desperate 'uh-huh', clearly close to reaching completion.

"'M gonna cum, mommy, I'm g'na-" Roman gasps out, cutting himself off with a drawn out moan.

"Cum for me, baby."

With a moan so slutty you could confuse it for porn, Roman finishes, thick ropes of cum shooting onto your hand as you stroke him through his orgasm. Even when he's emptied out you continue relentlessy, earning you a teary-eyed Roman as he begs for you to stop. 

Hiccuping, he grabs your arm. "Too sensitive, mommy," he groans out, trying to catch his breath. You decide to have mercy on him, removing your hand and instead hovering it in front of him. "Clean mommy up?"

He simply nods before licking your hand clean, tongue lapping between your fingers as he practically sucks off his own semen from your fingers. With your hand clean, he lets himself sink deep into his chair.

"That was, uh," he mumbles as he mindlessly stares at you as you wipe his saliva off on your pencil skirt. You don't say anything, simply walk back over to your laptop. "I'm gonna finish up scheduling for next week, alright Roman?"

He blinks a few times, processing your words before awkwardly agreeing with yet another nod. "Oh, and make sure to write that e-mail," you add, turning to now fully focus on your own work.

"...yes, mommy."

Just Us and Time (Papa Primo/Reader) Fluff and just two people who love each other. SFW.

“Amore..”

“Yes, Papa?”

“Amoorree”, Papa Emeritus The First, or Primo as you lovingly called him, was your seat at the moment. There was a hint of both amusement and annoyance in his voice when he realized you weren’t budging from his comfortable lap.

He sighs as his fingers rest at the middle of your thigh, “What am I going to do with you, mio amore?”. You pretend to ponder over this question like he was questioning you in Latin classes and you remembered how those Latin classes got you in his life in the first place. You giggle as you give up the act only to lean in and peck him on the cheek. “I’m sorry Papa, but you said you wouldn’t work late again..” and give Primo your best pout which makes him give out a feigned gasp. Primo places his hand over his chest and returns you a small grin as those fingers slowly trace circles over your hip.

“Oh, amore! How could I forget? Mi dispiace” Primo’s chest rumbles out a chuckle and pecks your cheek back as his hand now raises higher, sitting perfectly on your waist. “How could I keep mia amata waiting like this” His lips meet the beginning of your jaw, “How will she cope?” another peck to your chin, “How can she handle being alone, with me, for so long?” he teases you and another kiss is added to the corner of your lips. Another kiss to your cheek, another to your ear then underneath it and it was overwhelming you in the best of ways.

“Hehehe, Papa!” you shriek with laughter as those fingers tighten around your waist and begin to pinch all of the spots that made you laugh. He was tickling you and you hadn’t realized he was reeling you into his trap until it was too late. You tried to get away and stop his hands from their assault but it was too late, he had you caught in between his desk and his lap and there wasn’t anywhere to go. You squealed as his fingers ambushed your unsuspecting skin. The desk was slightly moved across the carpet from both of you playing with each other.

“P-Papa, please! I-I give up! Please! H-Hah-Have mercy!” You manage to yell out right before he stops to just hold you against him and the last of his laughter leaves him. Primo gives a small chuckle and pecks you again but much softer this time to let you know he isn’t planning anything else sinister. It is only when he lets go of you completely to place both hands up by his face that you are convinced he won’t tickle you again. When you go in to kiss his hooked nose your hands make their way inside his papal robes and manage to get to what you thought was the most perfect, the most kissable, the most comfortable abdomen you’d ever laid your hands and head on.

Primo’s hands shoot to your wrists and there’s a gleam of warning in his eyes when you meet them with a smirk on your face. You had to have your justice.

“Amore, I assure you this won’t end well for you” Primo states with a hint of something behind that tone. You were willing to rock his boat if he wanted to rock yours. “Papa..” You taunt him just as he had before he began tickling you. Your Papa glanced away but still held on to your wrists, “Papaaa~” you sang to him. When Primo didn’t turn to meet your gaze you leaned in and kissed his notched ear. You swore you could feel his heart beating a little bit faster.

“Papa, I swear I’ll be gentle..” You whisper to him but he shakes his head lightly and lets go of your wrists. You, still wanting to enact revenge, nearly go in for the kill but there was something that stopped you. The realization dawned on you. The paint hid his eye bags from everyone else but you had gotten closer than anyone else besides his brothers to see just how strained he was from his job. Primo could still get around the Abbey just fine but he was not the young man he used to be. With one more once over to your Papa, you sigh and lean in for another embrace. The love of your life was slowly wilting away at his desk from pointless paperwork.

Primo wraps his tired arms around you despite his exhaustion and sighs, “You always make me feel so strong, Il mio piccolo fiore”. He gives you a kiss at your temple before you hear a whisper, a breath at the shell of your ear “Ti amo” and with that, your shoulders sag, the fluttering stops, and you hug your love even tighter. You felt his aged body relax in your embrace and a long awaited sigh leaves him as if it had been waiting all day to escape.

“I love you too, Primo”

✦ 𝐏𝐈𝐗𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 ✦

– KINKTOBER DAY 1: CAMGIRL!READER

simon riley x camgirl!reader | smut, 18+ | 1.3k words

summary: a new client sends a request for a solo-cam performance. his lack of detail and scarce details leave you unprepared.

cw: f!reader, sexwork, dirty talk, breast-play, m & f masturbation, use of sex toy, use of honorific 'sir' but no real power dynamic.

⇽ KINKTOBER MLIST | DAY 2: TOUCH STARVED ⇾

❝On Deployment. Don’t be afraid.❞

Cryptic in its context, the message that popped up from your new client in the lower right corner of your computer screen made you smirk at the time. However, gazing at the skull-faced mask that materialised on the pixelated video screen when you answered the video call that swiftly followed, your amusement slips from your lips. Username ‘Ghost’ hadn’t been making some kind of arcane joke about the size of his dick being too much for you… 

“Oh,” you let out a weak laugh, eyes slipping over the grainy footage as ‘Ghost’ leaned back in his seat, immense, bulging arms crossing over the plane of his chest, “When you said… I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Can’t take off the mask,” the gruff, northern accent that rumbles through the computer speakers sends a ripple down your spine– a concoction of a nervous chill and delighted arousal. It metastasises in your guts when you watch him spread his legs, the blackness in the eye sockets of the skull burning through you even behind a screen. “The URA don’t take kindly t’people contactin’ cam-girls.”

URA. United Republic of Adal.

“You’re– On a military base?” The question passes your lips before you have the opportunity to think better. The plain black t-shirt stretched across his humongous frame gives little away, but the khaki-camo pants and the silver dog tags glinting in the low light of the room seem to corroborate his claims. 

“Can’t divulge that information.”

Of course he couldn’t. Obviously. 

“Y’can call me sir.” ‘Ghost’ clearly had experience contacting cam-girls, leading with his preferred address. It’s impossible to ignore that tingling arousal creeping into the pit of your stomach again, knowing you were in for a ride– so to speak. 

“Yes sir,” you answer to his demand, watching as ‘Ghost’ rubbed his palms over the top of his camo-clad thighs. You note the grainy blackness across the back of his hands; a tattoo. Most clients were secretive in their own camera-exposure, focusing the frame on their head and shoulders while pleasuring themselves off camera. ‘Ghost’s’ whole body was on display, offering just as much of a show for yourself. 

It was thrilling. 

“Lose the bra.” 

“Yes sir,” you nod, compliant to his demands. Reaching behind your back, you unclasp the lacy bra you’d chosen specifically for this cam-session. Your contact with ‘Ghost’ had been minimal, limited in the information he would reveal to you. It was entertaining this way, guessing at what you should wear like taking a crack at an enigma code. A shot in the dark; you’d gone for simple black. Slowly slipping the unadorned bra from your arms, you made a note of your victory when you hear–

“Fuck, that’s it,” ‘Ghost' mumbles beneath his breath, and you’re unsure if he was unaware of the sensitivity of his microphone, or if he’d meant for you to hear his whispered praise. You can’t find it in yourself to warn him when his palm settles over his crotch, inhaling sharply as he lifts his hips up to grind into it. 

Cupping your breasts in your hands, you squeeze the supple flesh so it bulges slightly between your fingers. It’s as natural as breathing now, a learnt behaviour after months of cam-work. Nothing special, but it gets ‘Ghost’s’ attention. 

“Hmm, fuckin’ ‘ell,” he groans softly, quick to work himself out of the khaki uniform trousers. You have half a mind to inform his superior that one of his soldiers had stolen a weapon from the armoury, watching him wrap his hand around his throbbing cock in a tight fist. “Get real close to the camera. Wanna see you fuck yourself, love.” 

You remember his initial request, much like his communications with you; simple and lacking detail. ‘Fuck urself w/ ur largest toy. Panties on’. Though, gazing at the image of him on your computer screen through heavy lids, you weren’t sure even your largest dildo compared to the girth he held in his hand. The ruddy tip is shiny, and you can just barely make out the shadows of bulging veins where his palm couldn’t reach. 

“Fuckkk,” ‘Ghost’ groans when you ease the tip of the toy in, camera angled just right to see you clench around the silicone but also to show your eyes rolling back. “That’s it. Greedy cunt’s swallowin’ it all. Look at you creamin’ around it–”

For a man so unwilling to talk much in any other set of circumstances, ‘Ghost’ was particularly mouthy now. Even as the head of the toy touches something mind-numbing inside of you, a delirious, breathy giggle escapes you at the thought. 

Beginning to push the toy in and out of your cunt, you watch ‘Ghost’ begin to fist his cock with a grunt. His eyes stay glued to the screen, enraptured by the way your walls squeeze the toy so tightly. It’s hard to miss the way his lungs rattle with unsteady breaths, the sheer size of him making a slight tremble appear like a shudder so violent it could trigger an avalanche. 

“Christ, I’d fuckin’ ruin you. Fuckin’ split you open and flood that cunt with my cum,” he moans, the sound wanton and wholely unmatching his intimidating size. It takes you a moment for your vision to focus before you note the slow, methodical rise of his fist, matching the strokes of the toy inside of you. 

Like he was imagining fucking you. 

Your own arousal spiking with the realisation, you thrust the toy inside of you quicker, more eagerly. It's ecstasy, the head of the toy spearing something inside of you that has your legs quaking. “Ugh– hhahah, ohmygod, oh fuck–” 

‘Ghost’ continues to talk you through your squeals of delight, his gruff voice particularly throaty now as he matches the violent thrusts of the toy. “Good fuckin’ girl, love. If you were here I’d fuckin’ paint your face with it– fuck!”

It’s like a chain reaction, the usually stoic man’s filthy comments causing a visible clench of your cunt when you cum around the toy. It makes ‘Ghost’ cum. White floods your vision, but the static sound in your ears can’t drown out the gruff, choked sounds that play from your speakers. 

When your blurred vision finally centres, ‘Ghost’s’ fingers are drenched with thick ropes of cum, the creamy spend dropping from his knuckles onto the khaki of his trousers. Leaning his head over the back of the chair with a shaky exhale, the black hem of the ski-mask rides up slightly, exposing the bulging veins beneath the pale, rosy skin of his neck. It’s a tantalising glimpse of the man behind the obscure username, underneath the skeleton-veil. Instantaneously, you’re like an addict– desperate for more, one hit isn’t enough to satiate the screaming need inside of you for another inch of skin. 

It’s why you leap out of bed at 04:27am when you receive a message weeks after you’d hit ‘end call’, the promise of your next fix delivered in a cryptic message deposited in a private messaging chat that had lay dormant since the footage went black. 

‘Want u on ur knees this time. Panties in ur mouth, fingers in ur cunt.’ 

Biting on a grin, you rush to answer. He was still in the URA, the digits on the clock in the top right of your phone evidence of a timezone difference. It was still relatively early there– like he’d finished his shift and immediately contacted you. Like he couldn’t wait to jack off to the image of you stuffing your cunt with your fingers and whining his name. 

Fuck the four figure amount he’d deposited into your bank as thanks for the last video call, the thought alone is enough to urge your fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, circling your clit as you clumsily type with one hand to respond to his demand. 

‘Yes sir x’ 

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