Do you like Actor!Mark/Damien? Do you want to read something spicy? Boy have I got the fic for you â

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@docs-thirst
Do you like Actor!Mark/Damien? Do you want to read something spicy? Boy have I got the fic for you â

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Do you like Actor!Mark/Damien? Do you want to read something spicy? Boy have I got the fic for you â
Not Doc advertising a smut fic, what, no way, I wouldn't do that --
đ Nothing special for now, just wanna watch
You find yourself peeking in on Darkâs room, the door opened just a crack, but enough for you to see him sitting in a large, plush, circular black chair. His suit jacket was missing, his tie loose, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His pants were open, his legs spread, slowly stroking his cock, his teeth digging into his other hand in order to muffle his sounds. Dark wasnât a loud man in the first place, but even around his hand, you could hear him panting, his soft, breathy sounds, his grunts as he bucked his hips a little. His hair was falling in his eyes, obscuring them from view, but judging by the red and blue gleam on the silver rings he wore on the hand he was biting, they must be glowing, gleaming with need as he stroked himself.
Dark was very pretty, his grey skin seeming to glow silver under the moonlight filtering in from the window. The shadows enveloping the other side of him all the more pronounced against the light. His breath audibly hitching every time he swiped his thumb over the head of his cock, hips bucking involuntarily, his hand beginning to move faster as he got closer, his aura writhing and curling behind him. He made a soft keening sound, twisting his wrist, and he dropped his hand altogether, letting his aura surge forward instead, translucent tendrils of pure shadow and magic coil around his cock, caressing his balls, and Dark fell back in the chair, the first, proper moan escaping him as his hips canted upwards. His shirt had ridden up a little, exposing the beginnings of what looked like a scar, a big scar, patterned almost like a spiderweb, or shattered glass.
Dark let his hand fall from his mouth to instead grip his tie and shirt, exposing more of the scar, his other hand digging into the cushions of the chair. With a few more tugs and squeezes of his aura, Dark was cumming, beautifully, his back arching a little, before his aura retreated, and he slumped, panting, humming softly as he rested against the pillows. In no hurry to clean up -- he didnât know he was being watched, after all.
Kinktober 2020
Please donât repost. Reblog only. Thank you!

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The Offering
It wasnât often you got offerings. You were a minor goddess, nothing special, your temple small and plain compared to the elaborate masterpieces that were dedicated to the more popular, powerful gods. But, you had a small following, and though your offerings werenât grand or many, you treasured them anyway.
But this.
This was new.
There was...a man, tied to your alter. On his back, naked, gagged. Furious. He writhed on the cold marble, muffled sounds escaping him. His skin was pale, almost...grey, and when he finally glanced in your direction...
His eyes were blacker than the night
31 Days of Kink, Day 15: Human Furniture & Uniform (in this case, that of a butler)
Too tired to come up with a detailed prompt, but I like the idea that this au has a planet/society where having pet furniture is totally normal, and Lance (as usual) stumbles into the wrong place at the wrong time ;^)
Oooo this is⌠very good. Very good indeed.
Yâall bitches /really/ wanna throw me in thirst mode donât you. Jesus christâŚ
Mayhaps
Illegal maâam you are the only person I can write NSFW with do not do this to me asdjkfkjshdfgdkjghsjkdgfj
Ăš w Ăş

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Yâall bitches /really/ wanna throw me in thirst mode donât you. Jesus christâŚ
Mayhaps
Carved from stone.
Fortitudine.
@51n5-h0m3
Can I request some good ole Host x Dr. Iplier where Host is constantly teasing the other all day, whispering dirty things to him in front of everyone until the Doc just bluntly says âFuck me now, or you get nothing for a monthâ to Host in front of everyone. Which Host gladly complies, of course~
The Host was a Goddamn tease.
Dr. Iplier glared at him at him at the meeting table, one of the boring, monthly meetings where Wilford was up rambling about TV show and gesturing at a screen filled with static as if there was something actually there. Dr. Iplier wasnât listening, too busy trying to hide the tent in his jeans from Silver next to him. His face was slowly getting redder and redder, and the Host wouldnât shut up with that Goddamn smirk --
All day the Host had kept this up, since theyâd sat down for breakfast that morning. Muttering things under his breath under the guise of his narrations, making phantoms of his mouth tease Dr. Iplier, phantoms of his fingers pressing deep inside him. It was all Dr. Iplier could do to not make a sound, not to moan or whine as the phantoms disappeared just as quickly as they arrived. It was driving him mad. And all he could do was stare at the Hostâs lips, watching them move in inaudible whispers, the instruments of this torture.
His breath choked in his throat when he felt something a bit thicker than the Hostâs fingers slide into his ass, the Hostâs tongue teasing the head of his cock, he could feel his pre soaking into his underwear -- Google and Ed were giving him odd looks from across the table, and Bim was beginning to shoot him side glances. Dr. Iplier didnât care. He didnât care, and the Host was grinning, and then he was licking his lips, and his tongue -- !
Dr. Iplier abruptly stood, grabbing the Host by the lapels of his coat and hauling him to his feet. âFuck me,â he hissed. âFuck me, right now, right here, or you donât get anything for a fucking month.â
The Host grinned, crowding Dr. Iplier against the table, pressing right up against him with his hand trapping him on either side, braced against the table. The room had gone dead quite, watching them, and Dr. Iplier flushed a brilliant red once he remembered there were eyes on him. He was unable to stop the small, high-pitched sound when the Host lips found his throat, his hands gripping tight to the Hostâs coat.
âSince Dr. Iplier asked so nicely~â The Hostâs teeth grazed against his skin, seemingly uncaring about the others. âThe Host will be delighted to oblige.â
The Host woke first, shifting up so his head was no longer tucked under Dr. Iplierâs chin and instead was buried against his shoulder. It was early â early for them, at least â the sun shining through the window and making their bedroom glow. The Host hummed, pressing soft kisses to Dr. Iplierâs skin.
Dr. Iplier woke not too long after, sighing softly and tilting his head as the Host sucked a mark into his skin, arms still wrapped tight around each other. He laughed lightly, softly, as he turned his head to capture the Hostâs lips. He hadnât even bothered to open his eyes â his eyelids still felt too heavy with sleep to open. The broke apart with a slight sound, the Hostâs legs shifting under the covers and tangling with Dr. Iplierâs. Dr. Iplier huffed another laugh, turning to bury his face against the Hostâs throat. His voice was still rough with sleep. âNeedy, my dear?â
The Host just hummed, though he gasped softly when Dr. Iplier began idly sucking a matching mark into his throat. He squirmed a little, whimpering slightly, and mumbled a few quick words, making their pajamas vanish, till it was just warm skin against warm skin. The Host whimpered again, nestling against Dr. Iplier. âPleaseâŚâ
Dr. Iplier didnât delay any longer, pushing his cock into the Hostâs hole, groaning softly in appreciation when he felt that the Host had slicked and prepared himself with his words. The Host moaned, clinging to Dr. Iplier as he gently rocked into him. He gently mouthed against Dr. Iplierâs throat, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses. He rocked his hips to meet Dr. Iplierâs thrusts, soft gasps and moans filling the air. There was no desperation involved, no hard fucking; it was tender and soft and gentle and warm and loving, and neither really wanted it to end.
But, the Host could feel his climax approaching, washing over him like a gentle wave. He clenched around Dr. Iplier, rolling his hips down, breath catching in his throat as he painted both their stomachs and chests white. Dr. Iplier let out a choked moan, holding the Host as close as possible as he came deep inside him.Â
Both lay there, panting, for a moment, basking in the warm afterglow and the warmth of each other and the sun. After a bit, Dr. Iplier pulled out, the Host mumbled under his breath to clean up the mess, and they both fell asleep again, tangled in each otherâs arms.
Doc, my boot kink is raging and youâve made me love Reynolds. Would you please write something x reader with him worshipping the readers boots please? Xx
Reynolds knelt at your feet, naked save for the rope that bound his wrists in front of him. He squirmed in place, a tiny whine escaping him as he bit his lip. The desperation in his eyes almost outshone the adoration as he stared up at you.
You leaned back in your chair, wearing nothing but a pair of black, knee-high leather boots yourself. You could see the little bullet vibrator youâd taped to the head of his cock still buzzing away, making him shift on his knees as he stared up at you with desperate, pleading eyes. âNeedy, pet?â Reynolds bit his lip again, bowing his head and shifting. You raised an eyebrow, lifting his head back up with your boot. He was panting a bit now, and you fiddled with the remote in your head, dialing up the vibrations of the bullet a couple settings. Reynolds moaned softly, whimpering and squirming in place.
You shifted your boot, pressing the toe against his lips, and Reynolds didnât hesitate, dragging his tongue across the leather eagerly. You hooked your leg between his bound arms, lowering your boot to the floor, and Reynolds followed, lavishing the leather with attention. Arousal pooled heavy in your belly at the sight, shuddering a little at the feeling of the light pressure of his tongue you could feel through your boot. You tossed your other leg over the one Reynolds was worshipping, propping your elbow up on your thigh and resting your cheek on your fist as you watched. âDo a good job, pet, and Iâll let you cum.â
Reynolds groaned, and doubled his efforts.

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Fucking hell, I have a consensual non-con kink as well as a predator/prey kink (but to be fair, I think they go hand in hand with each other), if you'd ever write that scenario it would be a one hit kill and you'd lose a follower, I'd have to follow you from my grave as a ghost
King couldnât help but feel like he was being watched.
Heâd never felt so unsafe in the forest out behind the manor before. He kept glancing over his shoulder, nervously checking for anyone else out there among the trees as he went through his routine. He just had to feed his squirrels, and some of the other critters that liked to visit him, and then he could retreat back into his treehouse.
His skin was crawling by the time he was done, and he stood, nervously wringing his cape in his hands. His treehouse was just on the other side of the clearing, surely nothing bad could happen, right?
King made it two steps before a strong arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him back against a broad chest, and a hand was clamping tight over his mouth.
King shrieked and tried to struggle, but the one behind him was strong, impossibly strong, and King could barely squirm in his hold. He felt his breath by his ear, Kingâs eyes wide with fear. âHello, little lambâŚâ The voice was a low, threatening purr that sent ice trickling down Kingâs spine. âWhat are you doing out here, all alone, where some big bad wolf may find you?â
King closed his eyes, breathing heavily, as his attackerâs hand wandered downwards, palming the front of Kingâs jeans before effortlessly flicking open the button and pulling down the zipper. Kingâs cheeks flamed bright red as his attacker pushed his jeans and boxers down, wrapping a hand around his exposed dick.
He didnât know what to do. What could he do? He couldnât run very far, not with his pants pushed down to his knees, and the man behind him was clearly so much stronger than he was. What chance did he have?
He had to at least try, right?
King whimpered, trying not to focus on the gentle, dry strokes to his cock, slowly hardening in his attackerâs hand. His other hand shifted from Kingâs mouth, holding up three fingers instead. âSuck, little lamb.â
King took his chance, and elbowed his attacker in the ribs.
He stumbled back a pained, startled sound, and King wrestled free of his grasp. He ran, struggling to pull his pants back up, and he could hear his attacker behind him. Fear was making his pulse pound loud and clear in his ears, and unfortunately, he tripped, falling face-first into the grass with a cry that was almost a sob.
It certainly was a sob when he felt a weight settle on his legs, and his attacker laughed, grabbing Kingâs hips and lifting them up, almost presenting Kingâs exposed ass as he pulled off Kingâs cape. âAww, good try, little lamb. But you canât get away from me that easily.â He pushed his three fingers into Kingâs mouth, grip tightening on his hip in warning. âNow suck.â
Through his tears, King hesitantly did so, swirling his tongue around the fingers in his mouth, coating them in his spit. His attacker groaned softly, rolling his hips against Kingâs ass, and King could feel how hard he was, and he just squeezed his eyes shut again, tears rolling down his cheeks.Â
After a bit, the fingers were pulled away, and King heard the sounds of his attacker undoing his own zipper. King was given no prep before he began to push in, only his spit as lube, and King cried out at the burning stretch. He was breathing heavily, eyes glazing over as his attacker bottomed out, fistfuls of grass clutched in his hands.
At that moment, all the touches to his body softened, and he felt Bim lean over him to whisper in his ear, running a hand through Kingâs hair gently and raking his nails over that one spot behind Kingâs ear that just made him melt. âAre you okay?â
King nodded without hesitation, not trusting his voice. His pulse was pounding heavily in his ears, and his ass hurt a little, but God it felt so good. King had never been so hard in his life, even though he was a little thankful heâd prepared himself before this.
Bim hummed softly, pressing a little kiss to Kingâs throat. His hand suddenly tightened in Kingâs hair, tight enough to make King wince, and then he was moving, fucking King hard into the ground. His hand slid back down to grip tight to Kingâs hips, his moans ringing through the air, even as King sobbed beneath him.
ButâŚit didnât take long for pain to give way to pleasure, and soon King was trying to stifle his own sounds. It felt good, and King hated it, and he hid his face in the grass when a small moan escaped him.
There was a hand in his hair again, tugging his head upright forcefully, and King cried out. âNo hiding from me, little lamb. I want to hear your pretty sounds.â
King whimpered, but it turned into a moan tore from his throat when his attacker shifted and began pounding into Kingâs sweet spot. Stars danced in Kingâs vision, fingers digging into the grass, and loud, keening moans spilling from his lips as his attacker wrapped his hand around Kingâs neglected cock, stroking him in time with his thrusts. It didnât take much more for King to cum, spilling all over his attackers hand and tears still cascading down his face.
âOh â fuck!â His attacker suddenly stilled, and King felt him cum, filling up his insides, and his dropped his hair, letting King collapse to the forest floor. King was hardly aware now, very close to passing out, and he hardly felt him pull out. He did hear him snap his fingers, and the sticky mess vanished.
The next thing King knew, he was being wrapped in the softness of his cape, and being lifted into Bimâs arms. King snuggled close, humming softly, and Bim laughed a little. âYour face is all covered in mud and grass.â
King snorted, cracking one eye open sleepily. âWonder whyâŚâ
Bim smiled a little, pressing a kiss to Kingâs forehead. âHold on, Iâll get a bath going for you. And â thanks. For indulging me.â
King smiled a little himself, snuggling closer as Bim teleported them both back to Kingâs bedroom in the manor. âIt was fun. Donât wanna do it too often though. Intense.â
âYeah, just a bit.â Bim set him down on his bed, and carded his hand through his hair again. âBe right back.â
King was asleep before Bim even stepped away.
I can't get the image of Bim teasing King all day until King just snaps and fucks him over the closest surface so now you have to have that image in your head too
In hindsight, King shouldâve known Bim was going to be like this.
The second he saw the look in Bimâs eyes that morning when heâd woken up, he shouldâve known.
Bim was such a tease. All day, heâd been driving King wild. âInnocentlyâ resting his hand a little too high up Kingâs thigh at breakfast, pressing up behind him to leave little nips and kisses on his throat, brushing his hand over the front of Kingâs jeans as he passed. King was a flustered mess, just thankful for his cape that he could use to hide the bulge in his jeans.
Currently, King sat alone in the living area, watching some mindless TV show on Netflix. It was a decent enough distraction, and King quickly found himself lost in it. There was nothing much better to do.
That is, until Bim appeared out of nowhere and dropped himself into Kingâs lap.
King let out a startled squeak, and Bim flashed him a wicked grin, grinding his ass against him. A surprised groan escaped King, and his hands moved as if to hold Bimâs hips, but then he could feel Bimâs magic pinning him down, leaving him to Bimâs mercy.
Bim put on a show, letting his eyes flutter shut as he worked his hips. Letting out loud, exaggerated moans that had King blushing furiously with the idea that anyone could hear him, walk in, see them.Â
And then Bim was vanishing again, appearing in the entrance to the living area, and he blew King a cheeky kiss.
âOh no you fucking donât ââ King scrambled to his feet, and something glinted in Bimâs eyes, even as his expression dropped into something only describable as âoh shitâ. He made to run, but he never got that far as King slammed him against the wall, pressing up close behind him and slotting himself against Bimâs ass. Bim grinned, laughing a little, and King growled low his throat. âIs this what you wanted? Get me all riled up, till I fuck you over the nearest surface?â
Bim licked his lips, cheek pressed against the wall with Kingâs hand fisted tight in his hair. âMaaaaybe~â
Kingâs fist tightened, and Bim winced, but his grin didnât fade, still trying to grind back against King. âYeah? Well you get your fucking wish.â
He hauled Bim off the wall, just to throw him over the arm of the nearest loveseat. Bim laughed again, wiggling his hips enticingly, spreading his legs wide. King swore, struggling to get his jeans open. âLube, Bim. Unless you want me to fuck you dry.â
Bim whimpered, shuddering, and he snapped his fingers. A little bottle of lube appeared in Kingâs hand just as he pulled his cock out, and King was almost too impatient to use it anyway, but he didnât want to hurt Bim no matter how pissed he was. So he poured some into his palm, shoving the bottle in his pocket. He coated his cock as he reached around to undo Bimâs belt, and Bim shamelessly began humping in his hand. King could feel how hard he was, but he just snorted, and pulled his hand away once heâd accomplished his task, leaving Bim to whine.
When King pulled Bimâs pants down â just enough to expose his hole, but left his dick trapped in fabric â he couldnât help but roll his eyes.
âYou little fucking slut.â King tugged lightly on the base of the bright purple plug buried in Bimâs ass. Bim let out a soft moan, hiding his face in a throw pillow. âYou really did want this. You prepared for this.â King draped himself down Bimâs back, pressed him harder against the arm of the loveseat, and Bim gasped, whining pathetically as he tried to move his hips. âPart of me just wants to leave you here like this,â King growled lowly into Bimâs ear, âhorny and desperate, for the next ego to find. Would you like that, Bim, instead? Maybe Wilford would come in here, make you cum until you canât anymore. Or maybe Google, or Bing, or both. Who knows what kinds of settings they have?â
Bim groaned into the pillow, and King could see the brilliant red blush creeping down his neck. âKing, please, I donât want anyone else!â
King grinned, and he pushed himself upright. He pulled the plug out roughly, carelessly tossing it onto the loveseat as he slammed himself into Bim, immediately setting rough, fast pace. Bim moaned, loudly, and King slammed a hand over his mouth, hauling him more upright with his other hand braced on Bimâs back. Bim reached up to grip Kingâs wrist tight, not to pull him away, just for something to hold onto as his other hand scrambled for purchase on the couch.
King vented out all his pent-up frustrations Bim had caused him throughout the day, spitting out degrading names that heâd never say in any other scenario. Bimâs eyes were glazed over from the pleasure, muffled moans still loud under Kingâs hand. Even after wearing that plug for God knows how long, he was still so tight and hot, and King bit his lip, fingers digging into Bimâs cheek and back.
Bimâs grip tightened on Kingâs wrist, his moans stuttering with gasps, and his eyes rolled back in his head as he came, clenching tight around King. King bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, squeezing his eyes shut as Bimâs orgasm tipped him over the edge as well. He fucked Bim through his orgasm, riding out his high as long as possible, till Bim began squirming and whining from the overstimulation.
King dropped his hand from Bimâs mouth, letting him fall back onto the loveseat. He leaned forward, unintentionally (but a little intentionally) pushing himself deeper, and Bim whimpered and fluttered around him. King grabbed the plug, pulling out just to replace his cock with it, and Bim made a soft sound, squirming some more.
King tuck himself back into his underwear, zipping back up his jeans, and he pulled Bimâs pants back up and made him stand. Bim was a mess: his hair was a tousled disaster, his glasses crooked, eyes still a little glazed, suit all rumpled, and of course his open belt and the big wet stain on the front of his pants. King licked his lips, and flashed a crooked little smile. âYou better go get changed, Bim. Or do want everyone to see that stain?â
Bim glanced down, and his face reddened. He turned to leave, and King smack his ass lightly, sending Bim staggering forward and partially stifling another moan as the plug shifted. King watched him go, before settling back on the couch and rewinding the show he was watching.