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bard-llama · 3 years

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Belated Start of Mini Kinktober Week!

So the @witcherkinktober provided the great prompts for this week and then I completely and absolutely forgot about it lol. So I don’t have finished fics for yesterday or today, but I will share a snip from each and if I’m lucky, maybe I’ll finish one for tomorrow!

So, my plan was to write 1 rorveth and 1 throne3 fill per day, but uh... that’s not seeming likely. So instead, have snips (more like my entire WiPs shhhh) from 2 throne3 fills + 1 rorveth fill under the cut!

10/3 - Collars | Gags | Hypnosis/Mind Control Warnings for homophobia-induced painful backstory and chronic pain

Unfortunately, no porn here, because I got too caught up in the explanation of how they got here again 😭😭😭 But Reynard got drugged with a truth/babbling potion. That counts as mind control, right? 😅

If there was one thing everyone knew about General Reynard Odo, it was that he kept his thoughts to himself and carefully chose every word he said.

Which is why Gascon knew immediately that something was wrong, because Reynard was surrounded by soldiers and waving his hands in a surprisingly uncoordinated way and, most significantly, openly shittalking people.

“Fuckin’ Reggie,” Reynard slurred, which set off about a billion alarm bells in Gascon’s head, because what the fuck!? First off, Reynard didn’t swear. Certainly not in front of his soldiers. He was meticulous about that kind of thing. Propriety mattered to Reynard and being proper in front of his men even moreso.

Secondly, nicknames and Reynard did not mix. Well, technically, Gascon was always giving Reynard new insultingly affectionate nicknames, but Reynard himself? Gascon had never heard Reynard shorten a name ever. Even the really long ones! Even the ones that everyone else used! Hell, there was one of Meve’s guards who even she called by their nickname. But Reynard? Never. It was always Lieutenant Razzah Ozzell, never Razzell like the rest of them.

Thirdly, who the fuck was Reggie?

“He was a right prick,” Reynard continued, snorting at his own words. “Didn’t know a damn thing about the military. I mean, he was always getting people’s ranks wrong, and who’s gonna correct him? He’s the fucking king!”

Gascon’s face blanched. Reggie as in King Reginald as in Meve’s late husband?

Yeah, he needed to make sure Reynard stopped speaking immediately. Whatever was wrong with him, clearly the General’s extensive control could not be relied upon at the moment, so Gascon would just have to have enough control for the two of them.

Nodding to himself, he wove his way expertly through tangles of soldiers and slipped his arm around Reynard’s, pulling the General up and pushing him towards the edge of camp. The soldiers groaned in protest, but Gascon ignored them, more concerned with the way Reynard was both still talking and did not seem at all bothered by Gascon’s grasp on his arm.

Only once they were a decent distance from camp did Gascon let go and whirl around to demand what the fuck was going on.

“What the fuck, Reynard?” he hissed. “What is wrong with you!? Why would you openly shit talk the King!?”

Reynard’s pupils were wide as the General snorted, “I didn’t even share the worst shit!”

“And it should probably stay that way,” Gascon spoke over him. “Seriously, what is wrong with you!?”

Tilting his head, Reynard leaned too far to the right and flailed for balance. Gascon was officially unnerved. Where the hell was the close mouthed and tight-lipped General Odo?

“I feel fine,” Reynard shrugged. “I don’t even hurt!”

“Yeah, that’s ‘cause you’re probably high as a kite on something. What did you eat? Drink?”

“Mmm, jus’ the ale. They’re – hic – they’re always inviting me, you know. To drink with them.”

“Yeah,” Gascon said uncertainly, brow furrowing, “you always say no.”

Reynard sighed, slumping as though all his energy had abandoned him. “Yeah,” he agreed. “They already have to put up with me all day. ‘M not gonna be so selfish as to ruin everyone’s time.” His lips twitched, “I’m Lyria and Rivia’s profesh – profess – pro-fesh-shen-al wet blanket, remember?”

Gascon winced. He hadn’t realized that jab had stayed with Reynard like this, but even worse was that Reynard seemed to think it was true.

“I was being an asshole,” Gascon protested. “You’re not a wet blanket. You’re – I mean, you’re very stoic and uptight and stuff, but like, that’s not always a bad thing! If you want to drink with your soldiers, you should!”

The laughter that fell from Reynard’s lips was haunting. “No one truly wants me there. It’s better to keep from intruding.”

Something about that made Gascon’s heart hurt, but he swallowed hard, refocusing. “Reynard, there must’ve been something in the ale you drank, ‘cause you may feel fine, but you are definitely not. Honestly, when you sober up, you’re probably gonna hate that you told me any of this.”

Reynard hummed, nodding in small movements. “Hate being sober. Hurts too much.”

Gascon blinked. “Wait, really? But you practically never have more than a single ale!”

“Of courshe,” Reynard wiggled his jaw like that would make his lips form the right shapes. “I have a resp – responc – re – ah, fuck it. Duty. I have a duty to Her Majesty.”

“Yeah, but – wait, why does it hurt?”

Snorting again, Reynard shrugged. “It always does. Though, not right now. Like, I can do this!” He shrugged his shoulders once more, seemingly engrossed in the miraculousness of basic movement.

“Can you… not usually shrug?” Gascon tilted his head, considering that. Had he ever actually seen Reynard shrug?

Reynard shook his head emphatically enough to make himself stumble for balance again. “Pulls on my back.”

Gascon’s brow furrowed. “Your… back? I don’t remember you having any particular back injury?”

Snorting through his nose, Reynard hummed. “Wasn’t an injury in battle. Nothing so honorable by far.”

More confused than ever, Gascon opened his mouth to say something, but Reynard didn’t seem to notice and talked over him instead.

“Fuckin’ Reggie,” Reynard muttered again, digging the toe of his boot into the ground.

“Reginald… hurt you?” Gascon asked cautiously. Usually Reynard was the first to insist that no one speak out against their rulers, past or present.

My vague thoughts were that somehow Reynard ends up dirty talking to Gascon on accident ‘cause he can’t shut up, so Gascon gags him? Aaaaand... idk how the collar comes in, but I like making life difficult for myself, so I wanna try to include all 3 prompts.

(throne3) 10/4 - Overstimulation | Monsters | Temperature Play Warnings for monsterfucking, rough sex, and serious size kink

“Troll want mate!” the massive rock troll declared.

Having been sent out scouting near the base of the mountain, General Reynard Odo found himself regretting having chosen to explore this cave.

“Reynard,” he said loudly, pressing a hand to his chest, “wants to leave.”

“No leave!” One humongous fist smashed into the ground far too close to Reynard for comfort. “Want find mate!”

“You… want help finding a mate?” Reynard repeated uncertainly. Where the hell was he supposed to find a mate for a troll!?

The troll nodded emphatically with a sound like rocks scrapping together. “Us need mate! ReyRey help find!”

Reynard winced at the atrocious nickname, then frowned. What did the troll mean ‘us’?

As he watched, the rock formations behind the troll materialized into more trolls. A lot more trolls.

“Uh,” he started, “why do you think I can find you a mate?”

“Humie no come here before!” the first troll he’d spoken to said cheerily. “You be special!”

Well. That was encouraging. “Where would I find you a mate?”

“If we knew, we no ask!” Another troll huffed. “Is season! Must mate! But where mate?”

His frown deepened. “So you don’t need a mate as in a life-partner, but more… uh, for one-time use, so to speak?”

The trolls hummed and groaned, looking at each other in confusion. “What humie mean?”

“Uh… I guess that you,” he cleared his throat uncomfortably, “you need to physically mate with someone. Urgently. Yes?”

“Urgent, urgent, yes!” One troll waved its leg up and down and Reynard’s brow furrowed in confusion. Except then the troll wrapped its hand around the leg and Reynard realized that it wasn’t a leg at all. “Need mate soon!” the troll said, stroking the massive cock that hung between its legs.

“I don’t know where to find you a mate,” Reynard said. “And I have urgent business I must conduct for my queen–”

The first troll he’d talked to cut him off with a low grunt, hands punching into the ground. “Need mate now!”

“ReyRey,” another troll – he really couldn’t tell them apart beyond size, but this one was a little smaller than the others, and troll dicks must have been retractible, because this one didn’t have a huge limb hanging between its legs. But there was the start of something peeking out where the troll’s underbelly met its legs.

Reynard found himself oddly entranced, watching the troll’s cock slowly protrude and grow larger and larger until it was around the length and width of Reynard’s entire forearm. If these things were proportional to the troll’s size, then this was the smallest one.

He swallowed, unsure why his mouth was watering, but he still couldn’t look away and the smaller troll grinned.

“ReyRey want mate?” it offered.

Choking, Reynard flushed scarlet and shook his head. “I – no! We aren’t – aren’t compatible. You’d break me!”

Why did thinking that send a shiver of interest down his spine. These were trolls! He was absolutely not mating with trolls!

Except when he finally managed to look away from the smaller troll’s cock, his eyes got stuck on the one beside it, their cock slightly bigger than the other troll’s.

“ReyRey want be broken,” the smaller troll said confidently. “ReyRey get hard like troll!” So saying, the troll reached out and poked Reynard’s pelvis where, to his great shame, his cock was getting hard.

“I–” he fumbled for words. Surely this was not going to happen. It couldn’t happen! What would his men think of him, getting railed by a rock troll!? By several rock trolls!?

It was ridiculous that this question should even be raised! Of course he wasn’t going to let himself get fucked by a bunch of trolls. He couldn’t!

So why did he kind of want to? Why was he thinking about what it would feel like, getting stretched so wide. And deep! These trolls were huge, and that should make him scared, but instead, he was… kind of getting excited.

Gods, what was wrong with him? He was – he was genuinely considering mating with a troll! That was most definitely not normal or in any way appropriate.

But… who would know? He’d only left camp about half an hour ago, so they wouldn’t expect him back for several hours yet. And it wasn’t as if he would ever tell anyone just what he was contemplating doing. So really, who would ever find out?

And it had been so long since Reynard had last been fucked. He would – he would have to prepare himself thoroughly before even considering taking the trolls, but…

He really actually wanted to do this.

Biting his lip and shifting his weight, Reynard looked around the cavern. “What,” his voice cracked and he coughed, trying again, “what exactly would it mean? To – to be your mate?”

The trolls let out excited hums and rumbles and the smaller troll grinned at him. “ReyRey look good on cock,” it said brightly. “We mate. Means ReyRey takes pearls.”

“Pearls?” his brow furrowed. Was that a euphemism for ejaculate?

“Lil trolls,” the troll nodded, “pearls. ReyRey say yes?”

“I…” Reynard swallowed and for once in his life, let himself do the improper thing. “I’ll need stretching first.”

“Trolls help!” the smaller one said enthusiastically. “ReyRey take off metal shell? No good for mating.”

“Right,” he cleared his throat, and even though part of his mind was screaming in horror, he actually did start to pick at the buckles on his armor. “Uh. We’re gonna need something slick. To – to open me up,” he blushed.

“We slick ReyRey!” one troll proclaimed loudly and as soon as Reynard’s armor was removed, they grabbed him, manhandling him with an ease that made his heart beat fast. Then, before he really knew what was happening, they bent him in half and something long and wet was prodding at his ass as stone-encrusted fingers held him open.

He yelped in surprise – and then moaned as the troll’s tongue pushed into him with no warning, thrusting deep and wiggling inside him the way nothing ever had before. “Oh, fuck,” he gasped, gripping his own ankles tightly. He hadn’t even realized he could bend down so far, but with the trolls holding him, it was somehow easier than anything to just let himself go and let them have what they wanted of him.

“Me turn!” another troll grumbled and Reynard suddenly found himself empty and moving, until a different tongue thrust deep into him, fucking him rapidly.

He couldn’t help his whine, cock already very interested. And folded in half and angled down like he was, when his cock leaked, it dripped down onto his face in a way that made him feel both embarrassed and horrifically turned on.

“Oh fuck, please!” he heard himself beg before he’d consciously decided to.

“Good humie,” a troll praised before something larger prodded at his hole next to the tongue rocking into him. “ReyRey take troll like meant for it.”

Reynard shuddered, the praise making his face warm as it flushed red.

Should I tell you where the story is going next? ‘cause it decided to get long, dammit, so who knows when I’ll finish it. So I guess if you don’t wanna know, then spoiler warning Additional warnings for breeding kink, oviposition, extreme oversensitivity, and extremely bad attempts at acting casual

Okay, so this was supposed to be some basic monsterfucking, but instead, romance had to happen lmao. So Reynard gets fucked by troll after troll and he discovers that unlike his assumption, “pearls” was not a euphemism, but literally trolls laying ‘eggs’. Each one gives him about two dozen pearls, so he’s huge and hella sensitive and just kinda losing his mind. But that kinda fucking takes time, which means Meve and Gascon are worrying over where their crush general is. They’re not together yet in this, but I think all three of them kinda recognize that, were the world different, they could have something special together.

Anyway, Meve and Gascon go searching for him and find him in the cave getting fucked by trolls. And they’re about ready to go charging in and cutting off heads of all sorts when Reynard begs for more. So then they’re confused and far too intrigued and they watch Reynard take another twenty pearls and he moans orgasmically and unlike Reynard, Gascon is not known for his self-control. So he darts out and gets his mouth on Reynard’s cock, making Reynard shout. Then Meve comes out and Reynard is freaking the fuck out and the trolls have all kinda frozen (and no, no one is distracted by the way cum drips out of his stretched out hole) and then Meve kneels and pets through Reynard’s sweaty hair and pulls him up to pillow his head in her lap. and Reynard is very confused, but like, weirdly, they seem to not find this as suuuuuper weird as it was and seemed to even like it.

So the trolls all finish with their mate while Meve pets his hair and Gascon explores his rounded belly and his cock. When everything is done, Gascon and Meve work on cleaning Reynard out - which is when they discover that the pearls can’t be ‘laid’ yet. They need to incubate for a couple of days, and obviously they can’t just leave Reynard with the trolls who didn’t realize that that sort of thing should be mentioned beforehand. So they decide they’ll take Reynard back to camp and hide him away for several days, giving the men a chance to take leave in the area.

Except Reynard’s armor can’t fit him anymore, so Meve covers him in her cape and Gascon carries the armor (he thinks he got the shit end of the deal here) and Reynard attempts to stumble back to camp when he’s filled with like 700 pearls. But he can’t really walk and every movement nudges the pearls inside him and he’s ridiculously sensitive and he would be horrified at being half-carried into camp by his queen while wearing only her cape and stuffed full of fucking troll eggs, but tbh he can’t think much beyond feels so good and oh god, do not come, do not make a noise! Fortunately, Meve and Gascon are more than aware of how much it would bother Reynard, so Gascon creates a distraction while Meve sneaks Reynard into her tent.

When Reynard realizes he’s in his queen’s bed, he tries to jolt upright - except he really can’t move much and his attempt just sents pleasure sizzling through his veins. So of course Meve, being Meve, decides she wants to see him mindless with pleasure again. So she kisses him and presses against his belly and explores his cock. By the time Gascon arrives, Reynard is already halfway to another orgasm (dry by this point, though he might’ve recovered a bit since the trolls) and Gascon is absolutely delighted to join in.

So basically, they spend a couple of days making up ridiculous excuses that none of their men believe about why they quite suddenly have leave time on their urgent march to free Lyria and, more importantly, driving Reynard out of his mind. Then, after the pearls have incubated long enough, they bring Reynard back to the cave with the trolls and hold him and soothe him as he ‘lays’ the pearls, shuddering and moaning with every twitch of a muscle.

And then the throne3 talk lmao. They get together properly and give Reynard some much needed aftercare, ‘cause dude took 700 fucking pearls!

(Also, the men definitely go wild with rumors as to what happened and why Meve and Gascon and Reynard remain shut in the queen’s tent. Some of them are even partially right, but I don’t think anyone calls the troll bit lmao)

(rorveth) 10/4 - Overstimulation | Monsters | Temperature Play Warnings: implied desire for a noncon gangbang, but Roche shuts that shit down quick and between Iorveth/Roche, there is enthusiastic consent

I actually started this one for the Rare Pair Bingo, but I still haven’t finished it 😭 But it works pretty well with the prompts. Also, inspired by this art.

I cannot find the article/study, so it’s probably bullshit, BUT the ongoing joke that I will use to death is “arousal smells like candied watermelon”

When Vernon Roche was a child, his mother used to tell him tales of the majestic creatures of the ocean. Gain one’s favour, it was said, and they would do anything for you.

Of course, then Roche actually went to sea and it turned out, the only creatures around were fish or monsters, not the fabled legends his mother had spoken of.

Or so he thought. After all, everyone knew that monsters were mindless, driven purely by instinct like any beast. Right?

Roche had always thought sirens were just another category of beast, but now… now he was starting to wonder. Because the creature they’d accidentally caught in their net was anything but a beast.

It looked like one – its skin was green and blue, and luminescent in a way that was wholly unnatural. Its torso was shaped like a man, but large bat-like wings protruded from its back and instead of legs, its bottom half had fins to swim through the ocean. But its face…

The skin may have been a lovely blue-green and its eyes were unlike any human’s Roche had ever seen, but they looked at him with intelligence, hatred and fury exuding from the creature’s snarl like they would from any other man’s.

It was… actually kind of beautiful, except for the part where it might try to slaughter his men and his crew. It squirmed, trying to free itself from the net before they could haul it onto the deck, but its fins and wings were tangled in the rope and there was no way it could break free.

“Heave!” he ordered his crew and with one last back-breaking haul, the creature sprawled onto the deck of the ship, net wrapped around it as effective as any trap.

There was a moment of relative silence as the crew stared at the creature and the creature snarled back at them. Then Thirteen, the lookout who’d spotted something worth throwing their nets out for, stepped closer and the creature lashed out, long talons on the end of its fingers shining in the sun.

“Whoa,” Thirteen reeled back. “Jeez, was just trying to help. Can it talk, you think?”

“It,” the creature growled, voice reverberating oddly across the deck, “is right here and if you do not free me, I will kill each and every one of you.”

Roche and his crew frowned down at the creature and it glared right back.

“What even are you?” Roche eventually asked when their stare off was getting them nowhere and some of the men had started shifting uncomfortably.

It scoffed, “I’m a siren. Obviously. What kind of sailor doesn’t recognize a siren!?”

The creature squirmed around to face him, its finned pelvis pressing against the wooden planks in a way that was suddenly drawing Roche’s attention. It was almost as if… did he smell something sweet? Like candied fruit, almost, and he took a deeper breath, inhaling the scent. Yeah, it was definitely like candied fruit. And it appeared to be coming from the self-proclaimed siren.

Weren’t sirens the legendary creatures that could ensorcel men and send them to their deaths?

“Stop that,” Roche snapped and the creature blinked up at him in surprise.

Around them, Roche’s crew was growing restless, clearly smelling the same delicious scent that he was – and wanting more of it.

“Whatever you’re exuding, stop,” Roche ordered. “Seriously, unless you want this to end with a whole lotta humans vying for one siren, you need to stop.”

The siren ground sharp teeth together, lips pulled back in a snarl. “I can’t,” it grunted and Roche blinked.

“Why the hell not?”

The siren shot him a look, but it was quickly distracted by assessing the crew around them. Several of the men had bulges in the fronts of their trousers and Roche could admit, he was feeling oddly horny, but it was nothing he couldn’t control.

The same, apparently, could not be said of his sailors, because one man – Roche totally hadn’t forgotten his name, but if he had, it would be totally understandable, as the man had only been with them for 3 weeks so far – stepped forward, towards the creature, who snarled and growled and bared its teeth and raised its claws, but who was also, Roche noticed, unable to move terribly much, not with the net tangled around its wings and fins and it not having legs.

“Cap’n,” the new guy said, “I’ve – I’ve heard that hauls like this sometimes get shared with the crew. Could we–?”

Roche saw the creature freeze at the question and something sour built in his chest.

“No,” he snapped. “Get back to work!”

“But what about–?” Thirteen asked, now keeping his distance from the siren.

“I’ll take care of it,” Roche decided. If it was doing something to make his crew horny and it couldn’t stop, then Roche needed it to not be out in the open, distracting his crew and making them far too likely to do something unforgivable.

There were a few huffs and laughs. “Enjoy, Boss,” Fenn muttered, returning to swabbing the deck. The others dispersed shortly thereafter, though they were definitely still distracted, glancing over at the creature.

“Can we–” the new guy started, “can we watch?”

Roche blinked. “Watch… what? Just – get back to work,” he shook his head, pulling his knife and beginning to cut through one of their best nets. It was snarled beyond repair, so they would need to weave a new one anyway.

The siren growled at him as he approached, but he felt oddly entirely unafraid. This creature was dangerous, certainly, but the way it was posturing hid the way that it was entirely helpless. As long as Roche was actually helping, he was pretty sure the creature wouldn’t attack him.

“What, you want to stay tangled?” he asked rhetorically, trying to lighten the mood.

The siren narrowed its eyes, watching him come closer and closer to the knots around the siren’s left wing.

“What do you want?” the siren demanded.

“Well, let’s start with keeping you from distracting the crew from their duties,” he let his voice carry across the deck and more than a few people looked away guiltily. “Uh, I guess you don’t exactly have a lot of options to walk. Can I – uh – carry you? Just into the captain’s cabin where we can talk and whatever it is you’re doing that makes everyone,” he waved his hands in demonstration, trying to say ‘really fucking horny’ without saying it, “if you can’t turn it off, then let’s start with getting you away from the crew, huh?”

The siren frowned at him, head tilted to the side. But when he motioned to pick the creature up, it nodded, though very clearly reluctantly.

Roche lifted the siren with one hand under its lower body fin and one around its back below the wings. As he rose, most of the netting that hand tangled around the siren fell away, but not quite all of it. He’d have to take care of that, but first–

“Back to work!” he ordered and more than half of the crew jumped, looking away quickly and pretending to be busy.

He shook his head, carrying the siren into the captain’s quarters and setting it on the bed. Then he withdrew, very deliberately stepping away, even though that smell was incredible and made him want to–

Well, it didn’t matter what he wanted, because he was not going to let his ship become the kind of place where ‘hauls got passed around’.

“So, uh… do you have a name?” he asked belatedly. It was probably kind of offensive to keep calling it ‘it’ in his head.

The siren stared at him for a long minute, then its head dipped in a nod. “I am called Iorveth.”

“Vernon Roche,” he introduced himself. “I’m the captain of this ship. Um. No offense, but I’ve sailed these waters for decades and I’ve never caught anything like – well, like you before. How did you end up caught in our net?”

The creature – Iorveth – huffed in irritation. “I was distracted,” it – he – said. “I’m – the reason I can’t make it stop,” Iorveth hesitated, looking at Roche and biting his lower lip.

“What?”

“I’m – um, I don’t think humans deal with this, but I’m – I’m in heat,” the siren’s cheeks flushed green as Roche watched and he found himself oddly fascinated.

“Uh… okay. So… how does that lead to getting caught in a net? Shouldn’t you be – I dunno, enticing lovers to, uh… deal with it?”

“I was… avoiding potential ‘lovers’ when your net tangled with my wings,” Iorveth admitted, still looking at him with eyes that blazed.

“Oh,” Roche blinked. “Well, that’s unfortunate. Uh… should I just like… let you go find someone to – uh, to mate with or whatever?”

“You would let me leave?” Iorveth asked, surprise clear in his voice and on his face.

“I… yes? Why? What am I supposed to do with a siren?”

Iorveth tilted his head again, frowning at Roche. “Your crew had an idea about that.”

Roche blanched. “That would be entirely inappropriate!”

The corner of Iorveth’s lips ticked up. “I’ve heard tales of other sirens caught by humans. Many would disagree with you.”

“Well, fuck them,” Roche growled, suddenly infuriated. “My ship is not somewhere things like that are acceptable!”

“Hmm,” Iorveth hummed. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

“Of course!” It was possible a hint of offense leaked into his tone, but really. “You’re clearly an intelligent creature. Your refusal should be respected, no matter by what species.”

Iorveth’s smile grew. “What makes you think I’ve refused?”

Roche blinked at him, taken entirely off guard. “What?”

“Well, technically, you haven’t made an offer for me to refuse. But are you so sure that’s what I’d say?”

“I… yes?”

Iorveth licked his lips, leaning back on the bed and running his hands down his body until he reached an area just below where his hips would be if he were a human. The scales were darker there and it took Roche a moment to realize that that was because there was an opening there. A wet opening.

Mouth suddenly watering, Roche licked his lips, wondering what Iorveth would taste like. But he didn’t move, even as Iorveth dipped the tips of his own fingers into the slit. Then Iorveth hooked both pointer fingers inside the slit and pulled it open, making Roche gasp as the dark cavern inside was exposed to view.

“Don’t you want me?” Iorveth asked softly, smirk confident and coy. “Don’t you want to fuck me?”

“I…” Roche swallowed hard, staring at that slit. “Why… you’re asking me to mate with you?”

“I’m asking you to fill me and fuck me through my heat,” Iorveth murmured, removing one hand and bringing it to his lips.

When Iorveth’s tongue flicked out to lick his finger, Roche couldn’t help the punched out moan that escaped him.

“Why?”

Iorveth smiled. “Because you let it be my choice.”

“That’s just basic decency!” Roche argued, but he did take a step closer. Then another. “You’re sure you want–?”

“I’ve never had a human before,” Iorveth said, half-lidded gaze locked with his. “Don’t you want to play with the prize you’ve captured?”

Roche gulped. “I – you – is that what you want? To be – to be treated like stolen treasure?”

Iorveth’s eyes lit up. “Yes,” the siren breathed, “steal me. Take me.”

Stepping up to the edge of the bed, Roche looked Iorveth over for any sign that this wasn’t truly what he wanted.

Iorveth rewarded his scrutiny by dipping his fingers into that slit again, then holding them out. “Have a taste,” Iorveth invited and Roche was lost, leaning forward to wrap his mouth around those fingers, tongue eager to taste everything he could.

He moaned as Iorveth’s flavor spread across his tongue. If he’d thought about it, he might have expected Iorveth to taste briney from the sea. But instead, his tastebuds quivered with delight because Iorveth was slightly salty and slightly sweet and slightly something else altogether on his tongue and he immediately wanted more.

“You’re sure?” he asked one last time, missing Iorveth’s cool fingers as soon as they moved away.

Iorveth smiled, touching his face lightly. “Fuck me, Vernon Roche.”

Roche couldn’t help his moan, but while Iorveth probably expected Roche to pull out his cock and go for it, there was something Roche needed first.

He licked his lips, crawling up the bed until he was hovering over Iorveth’s lower body. Then he leaned forward and swiped his tongue along that wet opening, enjoying the way Iorveth gasped sharply.

He moaned again, tongue delving into that opening like he was a starving man and Iorveth was a royal buffet. Iorveth’s taste and scent overwhelmed him and Iorveth knocked off his hat, tangling fingers in his hair and pulling him closer.

After a while of that, Iorveth’s muscles started twitching, close to the edge, and Roche thrust his tongue as deep as it could go.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Iorveth began to swear, slipping into another language as his hips rocked up into Roche’s face. Roche devoured him, licking and sucking and generally dedicating himself to thoroughly exploring Iorveth’s opening.

“Gods, your cunt is delicious,” Roche groaned, lips moving across the slit in Iorveth’s scales.

“It’s not a cunt,” Iorveth said. “It’s a – it’s – oh fuck,” Iorveth gasped, body arching and twitching as Roche’s face was soaked.

Roche did not stop the attention he was paying to Iorveth’s not-cunt, continuing to lick and suck and devour Iorveth.

Iorveth clung to his head, hands clutching desperately at his hair as the siren’s hips continued to buck and overstimulated whimpers filled the air.

Still, Roche did not stop and Iorveth cried out in that other language as he came for a second time, far too close to the first to not be painful.

And again, Roche did not stop.

Iorveth’s crying was agonized, but his hands were still tangled in Roche’s hair, holding Roche against him.

“How many more can you give me?” Roche asked, lips moving against Iorveth’s slit.

“Nnnh,” Iorveth arched, “f-fuck me, dammit!”

Roche smirked, lips curling up against Iorveth’s scales. “Is that not what I’m doing?”

Iorveth let out a strangled sound, fingers tightening in Roche’s hair.

“Unnh,” Iorveth gasped desperately. “Your cock! Fuck me with your cock, gods dammit, or I’ll–”

Roche pulled away, still smirking, and the noise Iorveth made was unhinged.

“Vernon,” Iorveth growled, and Roche just grinned, kneeling up and unbuckling his belt. He stripped his shirt off with minimal ceremony, then reached for the waistband of his trousers, which were mostly being held up by the very hard cock inside them.

Iorveth licked his lips, a quick flash of tongue, and Roche swallowed hard, debating if getting his boots off was worth moving away from Iorveth.

Meeting his gaze squarely, Iorveth sent him a hot look. “Fuck me, Vernon.”

Roche moaned, deciding that nothing mattered except giving Iorveth his cock, even if that meant his trousers tangled around his boots. He gripped the base of his cock, teasing it around Iorveth’s slit until the siren snarled again.

“Vernon!”

Tilting his head, Roche smiled. “I think you can ask nicely, can’t you?”

Iorveth’s glare was impressive, but when your second glared at men as if they should apologize for existing, you became rather impervious to such intimidation tactics.

Plus, Iorveth wasn’t as scary as Ves. Nothing was as scary as Ves.

“Gods just – fuck me!”

Clicking his tongue, Roche ignored his own urgent need. “That wasn’t very nice now was it?”

Obviously this is just an excuse to explore nonhuman genitalia lmao, but my vague plan was that Iorveth begs, Roche finally fucks him, and fucks him through like 3 more orgasms and he’s crying and hoarse from screaming, but he needs Roche to come in him and Roche has been holding off to give him so much pleasure and he wants to make Roche feel good too.

Then they pass out from too much sex lmao

#throne3 #rorveth #meve x reynard x gascon #iorveth x roche #the witcher #thronebreaker #fic planning #witcherkinktober

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sinfulsachi · 4 years

Text

Giver [2/2]

Kinktober 2020.10.04

Prompt: Face Sitting Word Count: 1,706 Fandom: Detective Conan - ShinRan

Making it to the edge of the bed was a chore in itself, especially when his legs were still jelly from his release.

But he was as numb to them as he was certain she was to the slick and slime that clung on her sweet, saintly, tainted face, an aftermath of their wild improvisation five sinful minutes ago.

Embarrassed yet achingly turned on by such sight, Shinichi wiped her up during the interlude with the tissue he initially planned to jerk off on, and Ran giggled inwardly at his belated modesty.

“I, uh, sorry,” he grovelled.

“N-No, I wanted that too,” came her meek reply, but said with unmistakable glint in her eyes that indicated she truly wanted the mess.

Something must be done with the influx of blood rushing back his groin.

She took the tissue from his hand and proceeded to dab her own face with it, “Mm, I’ll do the cleaning up.”

“You sure?” he hunched over her, hand letting go of the tissue to allow his arms to cage her on either side of her legs. “So sure,” she crooned. A sign. ‘Now do what you need to do.’

He brushed his nose against her neck, smells her sakura scent, her sweat and his essence mixing on her skin and his mind reeled with rekindled lust. “I owe you big time,” he nibbled on the soft spot under her ear, forming a trail of fresh love marks down her collarbone, “Please, let me treat you right.”

His hum on her skin must have made her head swirl for she mechanically leaned back, upper body propped only by an elbow. That gave him the chance to slide one knee on the bed and pepper her with open-mouthed kisses on the smooth skin of her neck and shoulder. They didn’t know when she finished wiping, when her blue school vest was hurled away, when half of the buttons of her white undershirt came undone. They just happened like magic.

Skipping her chest area, he slid his body halfway down, traced with the tip of his nose a path from under her chest to her navel. “May I take this off?” He asked, hand traveling to the zipper of her uniform skirt. “Yes,” she mumbled, letting the piece of clothing slide so easily down her legs unto the floor, leaving her with her white lace panties that looked so sexy paired with her long-sleeved undershirt of the same color and black knee-length socks.

She’d been very open and honest of her wants lately, and god, was it a turn on. It wasn’t like he was forcing anything on her but instead everything was happening naturally, unbelievable as it may sound. As if Ran woke up one morning knowing exactly what she wanted and how she wanted it done by him. He never thought he’d see her so pumped, so driven like an automobile engine on fifth gear.

He looked up and admired her breathless face. She stared back, eyes glassy and lips slightly parted, one hand behind his hair and the other balancing herself on the sheets. She was beautiful. Tantalizing. His one and only queen.

A queen deserving of a throne.

“Ran,” he climbed the bed completely and flipped so that his back was flat on the bed, crown against the base of the headboard, “c’mere.”

That instruction alone was sufficient to let her follow through. With a blush on her face, she crawled on her knees and slung one thigh over his shoulder, giving him a majestic view of her spread and vulnerable above him. Warm space and damp underwear were the only thing keeping them apart. She pinned his hands with hers on either side of his face, and her gentle palm squeeze and dark needy eyes were enough to convey that which she badly wanted.

He casted a smug smirk and kissed her inner wrist, “As you wish,” before he hooked his arm over her right thigh. His left hand went over her other leg, holding her hips in a not so comfortable but still snug position above his chin.

He breathed her in, filling his mind with the familiar scent of early afternoon and blooming flowers and sex and Ran, before sliding her panties aside with two fingers until he’s face to face with the most heated, most delicious part of her.

“Don’t hold back, love,” Shinichi cajoled, his icy breath against her pink, puffy skin making every hair in her body tingle. He kissed her inner thighs first, lifting his head up to work his way closer to her aching center, and in a matter of seconds her entire wetness was enveloped in his hot, hungry mouth.

He amused himself with the expected gape and throb and writhe of her face from the initial contact, her cheeks turning impeccably pink and flushed, stray bangs clinging to her damp forehead. Thighs shuddered under his fingertips, and he had to strengthen his already firm grip to keep her from toppling over and suffocating him with them. He traced her folds with his tongue, up to her clit where he stimulated her like he’s tickling the roof of her mouth.

Seeing her various blissed out reactions everytime he ate her out was his favorite. He had always tasted her with his knees on the floor or his stomach flat on the bed. But this was a first. Her visage from this vantage point hit differently, and he felt like he snagged the VIP seat to an exclusive screening of his favorite X-rated movie (not that he watched plenty). She looked sinfully immaculate above him with her undershirt undone, green tie dangling loose around her neck. One hand gripped the top of the headboard while the other twined through his soft, disheveled hair. Her hips moved like waves against his face, back and forth, slow and sensual, matching the rhythm of his tongue.

So erotic. So hot. His queen. All his.

“Mmn,” he hummed his enjoyment against her, the ripple of vibrations eliciting a delighted whimper out her throat. This is his queen stripped off of any inhibitions, giving in entirely to pleasure. He pressed an angled smirk against her core, mumbled, “you're so wet,” before spreading her legs further apart so that she sat flat and secure on his face.

Despite his air space reduced to half, he was much too eager to please her more to even think of pausing, or breathing. Lifting his chin up, his nose bumped along her clit as he skillfully slid his tongue inside her. Immense pleasure echoed in her voice as she gasped the loudest, most feminine sound he had ever heard her produce in her lifetime.

From then onwards he couldn’t even think to stop, delving his tongue deeper and deeper her tight walls, the perimeter of his mouth drenching with her warm juices. He drove her mind into frenzy with the way his lips massaged her outer creases while fucking her quite literally with his tongue. He ate her like his most favorite meal, drank her like fresh water in the middle of drought.

“Shini-... hngh, d-don’t, ahh, th-that...” her voice came ragged, choppy as his tongue returned to lap on her clit in as much a maddening pace as how he did inside her that it sent her eyes rolling to the back of her skull. She seemed to take a liking there the most, fingers burying deeply in his scalp, thighs squeezing him unconsciously and her hips straddling his face in figure eights that complemented the wonderful drawls of her ‘ah’s and ‘yes’ and the airy gasps of his name.

Her breath turned shallow, moans turned into low cries. She was nearing, yes, and there he hit a wonderful spot when her cries went a pitch higher, all the more reason to concentrate his tongue on that one specific point over her swelling bead.

"Th-There! Yes yes yes, oh god-” The explicit string of words he could only guess was involuntarily uttered by those angelic lips was enough of an indication that she’d reached a height out her own universe. Her muscles fluttered and constricted vehemently against his tongue, knees buckling, trembling against his cheeks.

And there above him his queen unravelled, unmindful of her own glorious, contorted expression and the sudden buck of her hips down his face. He opened his mouth wide, catching and tasting everything she rutted on him, wanting all of it and more. He didn’t cease lapping as her fluids dripped down his tongue, his lips and chin, bitter and salty and heavenly, exactly how Ran had always tasted.

Pretty much, he did it. His queen loved her throne.

Her tear-stricken cheeks and astounding amount of come in and all over his mouth were proof.

Slowly, Ran’s fingers retracted from the headboard and her hips raised up to give him adequate breathing space. He hadn’t paid much attention to how close he honestly was from passing out inasmuch as he believed the lack of air was from witnessing her orgasm up close.

Both breathing laboriously, they caught each other’s eyes for a searing gaze, her eyes showing signs of overstimulation and bliss. With his back hand, he wiped his mouth clean of her juices to at least make his face look more presentable under her. But that only made her face heat up like he was doing her again, causing her to hide behind her palms.

“I-, that was...I was... so- I’m sorry!” Though she couldn’t form a straight sentence, he knew exactly what she meant.

He chuckled lightly, licked the corner of his lips for a final cleanup, before shifting both of their weights to a sitting position, she on his lap. “I wanted that,” he gave her a chaste kiss on the lips, “Really, really wanted that.”

She blushed furiously, both because of his remark and the subtle taste of herself from the kiss.

“You want that too?”

She nodded shyly, “Yes.”

“Want more of that next time?”

She dug her teeth on her lower lip. “...Yes.”

“That’s nice,” he acknowledged with a smirk, the image of her beautiful writhing face above him burned in his mind forever, “’cause I do too.”

#dcmk pairing: shinran #pwp #kinktober 2020 #my writing #late upload

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