simp-council - Reject Modernity, Return to Simping
Reject Modernity, Return to Simping

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107 posts

I Just Wanna Fuckin

simp-council - Reject Modernity, Return to Simping

I just wanna fuckin

I Just Wanna Fuckin
I Just Wanna Fuckin
I Just Wanna Fuckin
I Just Wanna Fuckin
I Just Wanna Fuckin
I Just Wanna Fuckin
I Just Wanna Fuckin
I Just Wanna Fuckin
I Just Wanna Fuckin
I Just Wanna Fuckin

Y'know what I mean?

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More Posts from Simp-council

2 years ago
simp-council - Reject Modernity, Return to Simping

Im in love with your writing for MK ❤️ and I’m in love with Syzoth 💚 . So may I request Syzoth having a heavy breeding kink and desperate filling his human s/o to the brim with his seed also having a size kink .

Im In Love With Your Writing For MK And Im In Love With Syzoth . So May I Request Syzoth Having A Heavy

tw: afab pronouns and anatomy used

Im In Love With Your Writing For MK And Im In Love With Syzoth . So May I Request Syzoth Having A Heavy

Syzoth could truly not himself. He a sick man, one so depraved and foul. There no stopping it, however, he a slave to these compulsions that strangle him savagely. Guided by that which is written in his nature, the primal need he simply cannot deny, Syzoth is exceptionally wicked.

Blurred eyes of emerald stare at the figure so pinned beneath him. Her legs so far pushed and moved into the air as he has made her bend and stretch so that he may drive himself so deeply into her. He knows she is moaning yet the world so corroded with the sensation of her tight and sticky walls suctioning onto his long and thick length.

Never has sex felt so good since he discovered human intercourse. Such a warm place to sheath himself into. Oh so wet and sloppy it feels coiled around him. So warm...so warm...Syzoth loves her pussy wrapped around his cock. He could live within it forever and ever. What a heaven that would be to be blessed with breeding her pussy endlessly.

There's a deep growl bellowing around his throat as his cock continues its attack on her wet and sticky core. Syzoth is panting, trying to push more and more of himself into her but his length struggles. It thick and wide, how could she hope to fit it all?

"C-Come on..." Syzoth whispers into the air, hips burning and burning. "Take more...come on...!"

Moans burst to life from the depths of her lungs and he presses forward in his siege. Her defenses simply cannot manage, beginning to crumble apart into agonizing rapture. More and more she spreads for him, the seas of her parting for its master.

Such pathetic pants come from him, like an eager and overly excited puppy. Moans find themselves dancing together, tangled and unclear of which belongs to who. The sea is open to him, exposed completely and finally all of his length is surrounded in embers.

Green eyes cannot help but look at that outline etched into her pretty little stomach. Soon it will full of much more, so much more. He's leans over her, so close, so desperate. He wants to finish, he wants to finish inside her. Inside his seed will gather and mingle with her precious nurturing home. Through this wonderful gestation will be his brood, his kin.

His spine his curling and shaking with just the thought of filling her up with his offspring. How beautiful she will look so rounded with his child. Her breasts already so plush will swell and swell to provide for his child and for him. Syzoth must get her pregnant. He must...he must!

The grip on her morphs into power, fingers leaving bruises in her skin. Yes, that's it...she throbs around him so wildly, already trying to milk him dry. He'll provide, he'll give it all to her. Syzoth cannot stop himself, thrusts so brutally feverish; guided by that primal need to breed.

"Get pregnant..." he growls so close to her neck. "Get pregnant, get pregnant, get pregnant, getpregnantgetpregnant-"

Words bends and slur together until they become lost in the fog of groans and moans. From that fog a birth a pleasure is sprung upon them. So much...so warm and gushing as he delivers himself into her.

"Have my babies..." words are whispers on a voice most sore. "you'll look so pretty..."

Syzoth cannot be sure if he even speaking aloud or if these mere thoughts but it didn't matter. He stays so nestled within her burning nether. Such pretty pearls are poured into a womb most inviting and Syzoth's long and forked tongue curls around her neck so sweetly.

Both of them are panting now. So tired, so worn and yet Syzoth begins to move his hips again. Her moans are a wanton cry, still so sensitive but he cannot stop yet. Not until each precious drop of his seed finds a home inside her womb.

im such a nasty fucker for lewding syzoth like this omfg


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1 year ago
simp-council - Reject Modernity, Return to Simping

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.”


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2 years ago
simp-council - Reject Modernity, Return to Simping

im so excited to be able to share this request with you! 🥺 — could you do a headcanon with syzoth x princess!reader? *in my mind she's mileena and kitana's sister. — and she doesn't feel so included among the sisters and finds comfort among "the banished"

Ok, so ajust a warning: When I read this, I thought you wanted a fic. And I was already deep into this when I realized that you wanted headcanons. 😂 So if you want, I can still do the headcanons for you too. Just let me know! 🙂 And to my other requests, your fics are on their way! Anyway, here it is! My first ever Syzoth X Fem!Reader fic! Enjoy! 💚🖤💚🖤

Im So Excited To Be Able To Share This Request With You! Could You Do A Headcanon With Syzoth X Princess!reader?

No Longer Alone

Description: Being stuck in your sisters' shadows was never easy, especially when you live in the royal family of Outworld. You always felt as if you came in last compared to them and felt so alone. That is until one day when a mysterious man literally crashes your festival... Warnings: Fluff, Sad And Lonely Reader And Sad And Lonely Syzoth. Word Count: 2.6k MasterList: 🖤 Kassie's Angels: @lorebite, @mornandil. (If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know in the comments! 🖤)

》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《

Never would I have thought that on that day — the day a strange man came crashing into our festival — that my life would change for the better forever. As much as it pained me, I wasn't allowed to interfere when the man went into battle with my sister. Being the youngest of the three royal sisters of Outworld, I was bound to the sidelines as I watched my sisters deal with any situation — unless they needed more numbers in a battle, of course.

I knew that they were only protecting me and that they didn't want to put my life in danger unless it was really necessary, but I couldn't help but feel left out. It was as if no one took me seriously — as a princess or a fighter — and that stung worse than any wound I would ever receive in any battle.

I sat on a nearby stool, watching the altercation from afar. It worried me, watching my sisters battle with no way to aid them. But I had no choice. I was damned to just sit and watch — just like the people I've been told are beneath us. Though I never really thought they were. What right did I have — someone who was born into royalty — to sit there and claim that my life was more valuable than any other. It just felt wrong. After some time, the fight seemed to come to an end with both the man and my sister seemingly not severely harmed. And then surprisingly, my two sisters approached me with the young man at their side.

I couldn't keep my eyes from following the man as he came forth. He seemed so different — so... Beautiful. There was something about him that lured me in. I just couldn't place my finger upon it at the time.

"(Y/N)," My sister — Kitana — addressed me and I stood.

"Yes, sister?" I responded as I stepped closer and bowed my head as a symbol of respect. It was what mother taught me to do, since my sisters were older and wiser than myself.

"This is Syzoth — he has come to aid us in upcoming battles." She notified me while introducing the mysterious man.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Syzoth." I greeted him kindly. "I am (Y/N). The third daughter of King Jerrod and Queen Sindel."

The man nodded with a smile stretching the corners of his lips and — to my surprise — he bowed before me. "It's my pleasure, princess."

I had never earned that type of respect from someone so soon. Being so young in a family of royals, many don't appreciate me the way I — at least — felt I deserved. I let my eyes linger upon the man as he stood to his full height and smiled warmly in my direction. He was so different compared to anyone I had ever met before.

After letting out a slightly annoyed sigh, Mileena broke the silence that had fallen between us all. "Sister, show Syzoth to one of our guest cabins by the castle. He can rest there for the time being."

I nodded eagerly and my sister handed me a key to said cabin, and then I gestured to the man to follow me in the direction I was planning on going. As I began walking down the stone road with him at my side, I could hear Kitana call out with concern filling her tone, "Be cautious, sister!"

I shook my head as an amused smile curled my lips. She was always so concerned for my well-being. But she should know that I can very much take care of myself. After all, they both made sure to train me well.

Most of the walk was silent until I noticed how the man watched his surroundings with much curiosity. He looked at everything as if it was new to him. I couldn't keep myself from glancing over in his direction once in a while just to watch his interesting behavior. 

'Is he from another realm?'

"So — where do you hail from, my friend?" I asked as we turned down a new pathway, leading towards where the guest cabins were.

"Oh, I'm from Outworld." He replied, much to my surprise. "Just not these parts of Outworld..."

The comment very much intrigued me and I wanted to know more, "Not this part?" I pushed carefully.

"Ever heard of Zaterra?" He asked with a hint of resentment and... Something else in his voice. Perhaps sorrow? I couldn't help but wince as the word greeted my ears and I responded with a simple and rather nervous, "oh..."

We reached the cabin but just as we went to say our goodbyes and part ways, I noticed a pretty deep and bloody gash on his right bicep. Being used to tending to my sisters' battle wounds when nurses weren't accessible, I knew the right thing to do was offer assistance.

"My — that wound looks pretty deep. I think there is a medical kit in the bathroom of this cabin. Do you want me to clean you up?" I offered kindly and he quickly shook his head.

"No, princess. I've already disturbed your night enough. Go enjoy the rest of your festival."

I mirrored his previous actions by shaking my head, denying his refusal. "No, I insist. It will only take a few minutes of my time."

After a minute of hesitation, the man accepted my offer with a nod of his head. I opened the door of the cabin with the key my sister had given me, we entered the cozy place and I instantly headed straight to the bathroom to retrieve the medical kit.

Once I returned a few minutes later with the needed items in hand, I saw Syzoth sitting on the couch in the middle of the room, looking around at his surroundings curiously like before. I found it oddly cute, how he seems so fascinated with all around him. I decided to watch his actions for a minute longer, before entering the room to greet the man once again.

I sat down right beside him on the couch, and quickly got to work on his wounded arm. He would flinch every once in a while, but he was pretty good at staying still for me. The room fell silent for the time being but it was actually fairly nice. He watched as I cleaned and bandaged his arm, but I didn't feel judged or criticized like I usually did whenever I was being trained by my sisters or mother. I felt... Rather calm with this man. I liked it.

"There you go — all better now." I announced as I finished wrapping the soft cloth around his muscular arm as carefully as I could.

He looked down at his arm for a moment, carefully inspecting the bandage before looking up at me with a grateful grin.

"Thank you, princess. You did a wonderful job."

I could quickly feel my cheeks stinging with heat and I instantly looked away to hide the blush I knew had stained them crimson. As a royal, I knew I couldn't mingle with one my family didn't approve of first. And besides, he could never feel that way for me anyway. Growing up, all the men in my village were always attracted to my sisters like moths to a fire. And it seemed to me that I was the lavender that repelled them. They haven't wanted me all my life, so why would they now? I quickly looked for anything to steer the conversation in a new direction and distract the man from my rose-dusted skin.

"Um... So, I must ask..." I began, struggling to find words as I thought hard of a good question to ask him — anything to steer the conversation away from dangerous territory. "I've never seen Zaterra, but I have heard stories about it from my ancestors. You don't necessarily look Zaterran. Were you adopted?"

The man stared at me for a moment with a blank expression — as if I had just said the most obsurde thing he had ever heard — before laughing heartedly for a few minutes. He shook his head as he calmed down from his fit of giggles, finally looking back at me with a large smile of amusement.

"No, I am not adopted. I am indeed Zaterran, princess." He informed me. Still being very confused, I just had to push for a clearer answer. 

"I do not understand. You look so— so—"

"Human?"

"Yeah,"

At that moment, Syzoth leaned forwards and lowered his voice as if to tell me something that was only meant for my ears to hear. I leaned in closer — until our faces were merely inches apart — and it had just then dawned on me that I had never been this close to a man before. My heart began racing as I felt his hot breath fan my skin like a warm summer's breeze. I was sure that I was blushing again.

I could see his face better now — every little detail of his tattoo, his beautiful light green eyes, the aged scars that were across his face and soft pink lips. I wanted to run my fingers along the inked design to see what it felt like, his soft green eyes lured me in like a wolf to the stars at night, and those soft pink lips... I wondered at that moment what it would be like if I leaned in a little closer and let them gently caress my own — how good would that feel? But then his low voice finally brought me back out of my little fantasy.

"Can you keep something only between you and me?" He whispered in a volume so quiet, I almost couldn't catch the words to comprehend them. I nodded slowly and he stood up from his spot, backing away from the couch. "Promise me you won't be frightened, princess?"

Though that last sentence did make me a bit worried and nervous, I nodded my head in agreement. Merely a few seconds later, the man disappeared. I was pretty confused but then suddenly a large, reptilian creature appeared right before me. He stood around 8-9ft tall, towering over me as he licked his big fangs. I could only gasp as my eyes stayed focused upon the creature — my body now completely frozen in shock. I couldn't comprehend how this beautiful man could transform into a reptilian creature. It seemed impossible. But it was Outworld, so I guess I shouldn't have been too surprised.

The creature then came forward and lowered his head to my side, showing that he had no intention of devouring me like my ancestors told me Zaterrans do. I placed my hand upon the top of his head and stroked his scales a few times to show that I wasn't afraid of him in his — I suppose natural form. He let out a low rumble that emitted from his chest and I couldn't help but giggle a little bit at the fact that he enjoyed the affection much like a tamed dog. He was actually quite a beautiful creature. I always had an appreciation for reptiles that my family could never understand.

The creature eventually backed away and suddenly, Syzoth was once again in his human form. He stood before me with a rather cheeky smile set on his lips. Whether he found it amusing how shocked I was or was just happy that I didn't run away, I am unsure. He approached the couch and sat down once again, staring into my eyes with almost hopeful ones.

"When my people found out about my "curse", I was terrorized and run out. They called me a freak..." He peered down to his hands folded in his lap as he whispered the last sentence as if it hurt his heart to speak those words, and that hurt my heart as well. Because in a way, I knew what it was like to be treated differently than others. "But that's why I'm here: To make a new and rewarding life for myself."

"You're not a freak," I exclaimed with a reassuring smile while placing my hand on his own. He glanced up at me as if he was surprised to hear me say those words — lips parted as if he wanted to speak, but didn't know what to say. "And I don't think it's a curse; It's a gift."

"So you are not afraid, princess?" He asked with a hint of nervousness in his tone and I shook my head.

"Of course not, Syzoth. I think your Zaterran form is rather beautiful. And you must be a mighty good fighter?" I nudged his shoulder playfully with my own and he huffed a short laugh.

"Perhaps once you are queen, I can be your protector?" He suggested as his lips curved up into a pretty attractive smirk. My heart began to beat faster once again for only a second until his words finally sunk in.

"Unfortunately, that won't be possible." I mentioned and he looked at me with confusion etched in his features. I figured that I should explain more thoroughly. "My sister — Mileena — is next in line to inherit the throne from our mother. I will never be queen of Outworld."

"Oh, I am sorry." He spoke sincerely and I simply shook my head to dismiss his apology, despite being grateful towards his empathy.

"It's fine, Syzoth. I am truly proud of my sister's accomplishments. I just wasn't meant to be a ruler." I gave him a faint smile to mask my hidden sorrow but it was plainly clear that he could see right through it. He had only known me for an hour and he could somehow see through the cracks of my porcelain mask of lies better than my family could. How funny is that?

He stared at me as if he was examining my features for a moment, before speaking in the softest tone I had ever heard spoken, "Well, you could be the queen of my heart instead?"

Coincidentally with his words, I felt my heart stop for a second as they sunk into my mind. My thoughts were racing around my mind at such fast speeds, that I began to feel dizzy and lightheaded.

'There is absolutely no way he just suggested— No, it's not possible— Or is it? Even if it was, there would be no way we could— By the Elder Gods, my sisters would never allow it!'

But just as I parted my lips to speak my refusal, my eyes set upon his hopeful gaze. There sat before me a man who saw my worth — who wanted to love me the way I deserved to be loved; how could I deny that?

"Syzoth," I spoke in the most soft and calm tone I could muster. I took the man's large hands within my own and smiled up at him in a loving way. "I would be honored to be the queen of your heart."

His smile broadened as his fingers clasped around my hands to hold them tight as he locked his warm gaze with my own. "Together, we will no longer be alone."

We both leaned forward and his soft lips finally collided with mine in a kiss that I had not only been waiting for for the past hour, but my whole life. It was as if color had finally been restored into my grey existence and — for the first time ever — I knew something that was finally set in stone — I knew that I would no longer be alone.

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Tags :
2 years ago
simp-council - Reject Modernity, Return to Simping

e-mail. || Roman Roy || smut

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."


Tags :
2 years ago
simp-council - Reject Modernity, Return to Simping

◜ mk1 men using their powers in the bedroom part 1 of ?◞

▸ includes: reptile [mk1 versions] ◂

 Mk1 Men Using Their Powers In The Bedroom Part 1 Of ?

If you ask Syzoth whether or not Zaterrans are sexual creatures, he will answer that yes, it takes two Zaterrans in order to reproduce. But if you ask him whether he himself has an interest in sex, he would reply with a smile, saying "Pay me, and I might answer you."

[Spicy/Explicit after the cut 🔞]

The answer is that with very few exceptions, he views sex as an opportunity to perform. And he views performance as a way to earn money. You'd certainly not have been the first creature to pay for his honest answer, and you likely will not be the last.

People have paid good money to have Syzoth's freakish powers used for their pleasure. If you want to know details of his encounters with clients, he's happy to share, for the cost of a few koin. The higher the payout, the hotter the tea.

"Or perhaps you would rather we show, not tell," he might say while reaching out an empty palm as an offer to accept payment.

For pay, he will show you his body. His human body, nude, with elegant tattoos that tort and stretch with his movements, is an alluring sight to most. He has never been picky about the shape of his paying clients: all humans seem equally adorable and strange to him, while money makes anyone alluring in his eyes. He would waste no time in giving you whatever you desire from his body. In fact, his professional experience with pleasing others makes it highly likely that he can guess what you want and how deeply you desire it just from the skipping beat of your heart.

He cannot hear your heartbeat from a distance, but its imperceptible rhythm gently rattles the floor beneath his feet, and as his body evolved to detect such vibrations from the earth in order to hunt prey, he will know when the heart's rhythm changes. His eyes would take a slow tour of your body, and when he looked at the parts of you that you're most excited for him to play with, your heart would speed up naturally. The second he figures out what your heart truly desires, it is yours.

 Mk1 Men Using Their Powers In The Bedroom Part 1 Of ?

At first, he uses his tongue mostly for talking. He tells about past patron's kinks, such as the one who liked him to ride them reverse cowgirl style in his human form, only to strangle them with his tail during climax. Or the one that preferred to be pinned face down and very lightly scratched with razor sharp talons all down their back. He might tell cautionary tales of the ones that begged him to use his tongue on their genitals, not realizing that removing it can feel like tearing duct tape from the skin without the appropriate lubricants. Syzoth has an ulterior motive - while telling his stories, he's sensing your temperature. He knows when you're aroused because no matter what you have between your legs, it will emit heat.

He may move his face closer, hinting and teasing that he could go down. The tips of his forked tongue might flicker in the air just between your thighs, fanning the air towards his nostrils so he can better smell and taste the heat that rises from your body.

If you become a beggar in these moments, the same as many other patrons have done, he will insist that he's first allowed to test his tongue against less sensitive parts of your body. If you can tolerate the feel on your chest, perhaps you might enjoy the things you've proposed he do to your most sensitive spots.

He would eject his tongue to catch your nipple, then pull the tender tissue up as his face is drawn down to your chest by the tension in his tongue. He would suckle and mouth at this spot for a while, feeling your heartbeat rattle throughout his entire skull. He's gentle when he comes up for air, but it does indeed feel like ripping a bandaid off. He's only chosen this moment to risk causing you pain because he believes you're too aroused to care about or even feel pain.

He would tell you that for his most requested trick, he requires a funhouse mirror - the kind that makes everything seem bigger. He has no hesitation in telling you that he had one while in the circus, and that he'd put it behind him before fucking certain patrons. He'd hold them in a very specific way that would force them to look at their own reflection... *through* his invisible chest, angled so they could practically see inside themselves as he worked them open with the invisible phallic objects of their choice. For some, fingers sufficed. For most, seeing his cock disappearing inside them over and over again was the pinnacle of pleasure. Still others preferred invisible toys, or the tongue, or even something more creative.

His favorite thing is the look on a patron's face when he's suddenly visible again. By the time he drops the invisibility, both he and his patrons are fuckdrunk and often have cute, dumbfounded expressions on their faces. Syzoth knows his open mouthed grin is cuter when his face flushes at the brink of his orgasm. He knows he's as adorable as he is silly looking when he's slackjawed, panting, and pressing the tips of his tongue weirdly to the roof of his mouth.

He's still performing, and would work you until you get what you paid for.

The final upsell he pitches to his wealthiest clients is a territorial marking - a visible acid brand. At his most extreme, and reserved only for the healthiest, wealthiest patrons, he has, as a service, permanently branded the bodies of his highest paying clients. Even Outworld royalty can be found with his mark - the scars of a human-sized bite wound, carved deeper by the use of a strange acid. The meaning of these brands are clear to the others that share in his profession- "This one pays the most, and both he and his wallet are mine. Touch my man or my money and you will suffer my bite." A less drastic, less permanent brand might be the reddened imprint of a forked tongue, which lets the competition know that "we are just starting out and testing the waters - try me again later to see if I stuck around, or if I've healed and moved on."

He readily admits that just as many patrons refuse the branding service as there are patrons who find it of interest. As long as you are satisfied, Syzoth has no preference for which acts you chose to pay him to perform upon you.

[End for now]

Also thanks to @visionsofmagic for inspiring this writing with a similar set of imagines at https://www.tumblr.com/visionsofmagic/729107508174651392/mk1-men-using-their-powers-while-fcking-you?source=share


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