marveldcmistress - Tumblr blog

marveldcmistress · 2 days ago

Note

A thot!

Curtis, with his face buried in the crook of your neck, his humid breath panting against your skin as he cums with a groan and frantically pumps you full of his cream.

Okay, bye! 👋🏻😘

I don't thin you intended to poke my muse specifically for our lake Creature Curtis, but I don't think you will complain about it either. 😏Just know that this has been growing in my head for a few weeks now...

Never Going Back Again Characters/Pairings: Bolotnik!Curtis x curvy!Reader Word Count: 3.7k Summary: One night near the lake has changed everything.

Content/Warnings: explicit smut - oral (female receiving), vaginal fingering, vaginal intercourse, breeding; breeding kink; Curtis's tail; teratophilia/monster fucking; size kink

Notes: This is a follow up piece to this ask about a lake monster CE character, but you could theoretically read this on its own. This is also another piece in my Countdown to Chris-mas collection.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

When you were small, you and your sister had sat up late so many nights curled up in the window seat of the small bedroom you shared, and looked out over the trees out to the shores of the seemingly infinite lake. Sometimes you could see pockets of water glowing out across the wide, blue darkness. Sometimes there were dancing lights along the shore. The lake was integral to your town’s way of life, providing fish, connecting you through trade to other towns and countries, and nourishing the plant life along its edges.

As a child, those nights in the window had been frequent, both of you enchanted with the water and with the sky of stars and the moonlight. You had never given up the practice entirely, but as you’d both grown, sleeping hours had grown more appreciated.

But now you sat up again far too late every night looking out over the water.

Where he came from.

There were old stories told about creatures in the mountains, in the forest, in the lake, under the bed, in the closet, living in the attic… too many cautionary tales told keep children in line and to grow up wisely.

But now that you knew there was at least one man from the lake, you wondered how much of at least his folklore was true, and how much more you didn’t yet know.

And, most importantly, how much would affect you.

Because you had been enormously affected by him already.

Foolishly lured away from the safety of others along the shoreline, snatched by a bolotnik, your virginity not only taken, but your body used, ruined, and exploited for pleasure all night. For by the end of it all, you could not deny you had succumbed to the pleasure he wrought from you, even though he was still terrifying.

And so you watched each night from your window, unsure what to do.

You couldn't shake the memory of his touch, the way he had made you feel things you'd never imagined. Each night as you gazed out at the dark waters, a part of you hoped to see those mesmerizing lights dancing on the surface again.

But weeks passed with no sign of him. You began to wonder if it had all been some fevered dream. Yet your body remembered - the soreness between your legs, the marks on your skin that had slowly faded. And there was something else, a change you couldn't quite place.

Your courses didn't come. Panic rose in your throat when you realized what that likely meant. But there was a chance his seed hadn’t taken. Your bleeding had come late or not come at all before. And it had taken your sister a fair amount of time until she had born her first child while diligently trying with her husband.

Still, you placed a hand on your belly, wondering if there was new life growing inside you. The child of a monster. Your child.

Though it was the water your eyes relentlessly looked to, a flash of movement in the trees drew your gaze. Heart pounding, you peered at the edge of the forest near your family’s home. For a long moment, nothing stirred. Then you saw it - movement among the underbrush.

A shadow detached itself from the trees, moving with an unnatural grace. Your breath caught in your throat as you recognized the hulking form of Curtis. He emerged into a patch of moonlight, his scales glinting, eyes fixed on your window.

Your heart raced. For a moment, you froze, unsure what to do. Part of you wanted to flee, to wake your family and raise the alarm. But another part, a part you were ashamed to acknowledge, felt a thrill of excitement at seeing him again.

Before you could decide, he was striding forward, pausing only for a moment at the edge of your family’s property, those eerie, impossibly bright, blue eyes fixed on your window. Then he continued forward. Even from a distance, you could see the way his muscles rippled as he moved. His tail swished behind him, hypnotic in its motion.

Your breath caught in your throat as the creature approached your home. Every instinct screamed at you to run, to hide, to call for help. But you remained frozen, transfixed by his otherworldly presence.

In mere moments, he had scaled the side of your house with inhuman agility. His clawed hands gripped the windowsill as he peered inside, those piercing blue eyes locking onto yours.

Without him prompting you, you pushed the window open.

A slow, predatory smile spread across his face.

"Did you miss me, little one?" he purred, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine.

You almost balked at the term because anyone is little compared to him, but you couldn't find your voice to respond even if you'd wanted in that instant. Your body trembled, caught between fear and a shameful excitement.

With fluid grace, he slipped through the window and past you into your room. He towered over you, his massive form larger than you remembered. The cool night air raised goosebumps on your skin, but it was the intensity of his gaze that made you shiver. You could smell the scent of lake water and earth on his skin.

He reached out, his clawed hand gently cupping your cheek. You flinched at first, but then found yourself leaning into his touch. His skin was cool and slightly damp, reminding you of the lake's waters.

"You've been watching for me," he said, his voice a low rumble. It wasn't a question. "I've seen you at your window night after night."

You nodded, unable to deny it. "I... I wasn't sure if you'd come back," you whispered.

His thumb traced your lower lip, sending a shiver through you. "I told you I would return for what's mine," he said.

His nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply, and a knowing smile curved his lips. His gaze dropped to your belly. "And it seems I've left more than just memories with you."

Your hand instinctively went to your stomach. "How can you know?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

His chuckle was low and dark. "I can smell the changes in you, little one. Your scent is sweeter now, ripe with new life."

Your breath caught in your throat. So it was true. The suspicion you'd been harboring was confirmed by this creature who could somehow sense what your own body had only begun to whisper.

His hand drifted down to rest on your belly, his touch surprisingly gentle, brushing over your hand.

“Do you have a name?” you asked tentatively.

He smiled, a mixture of amusement and appreciation in his eyes. "Curtis," he replied. "Though I'm surprised you care to know it."

You swallowed hard, unsure how to respond. Part of you was still terrified, but another part was drawn to him, fascinated by this otherworldly creature who had claimed you so thoroughly.

"Curtis," you repeated softly, tasting the name on your tongue. It seemed too ordinary for such an extraordinary being.

His hand moved from your belly to your waist, pulling up from your seat and drawing you close. "And what shall I call you, my sweet human?"

You hesitated, then whispered your name.

"Beautiful," he murmured, leaning down to nuzzle your neck. His breath was cool against your skin, making you shiver. "It suits you."

You gasped as his lips brushed your throat, your body responding to his touch. Your breath hitched as Curtis's lips trailed along your neck, his sharp teeth grazing your sensitive skin. A whimper escaped you, torn between fear and desire.

"Shh," he soothed, his large hand cradling the back of your head. "We don't want to wake your family, do we?"

The reminder of where you were, of the danger, sent a jolt through you. You tried to pull away, but his grip was firm.

"Curtis," you whispered urgently, "we can't - not here."

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Oh? And where would you suggest, little one? Back to the lakeshore?"

The memory of that night flooded your senses - the cool grass and earth beneath you, the scent of the water, the overwhelming pleasure. You shuddered, heat pooling low in your belly.

He nipped gently at your earlobe.

"I've thought of you every day since our night together," Curtis murmured, his voice low and husky. "The taste of your skin, the sound of your cries... and if I hadn’t found you with child, I was determined to attempt to breed you again, little one."

You trembled in his arms, torn between fear and a growing desire. His massive form dwarfed you, reminding you of his inhuman strength. Your resolve weakened as Curtis's hands roamed your body, igniting sparks of pleasure wherever he touched. You knew you should resist, should cry out for help, but the words died in your throat. Instead, a soft moan escaped your lips as his fingers traced the curve of your breast through your thin nightgown.

"That's it," he purred, encouraged by your response. "Let yourself feel, little one. Your body remembers the pleasure I gave you."

And it did. Your skin tingled with anticipation, your core aching with need. You pressed closer to him, inhaling his scent of lake water and earth. His tail wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

"Curtis," you breathed, your hands tentatively exploring the planes of his muscled chest. "We shouldn't…"

But even as you protested, your body betrayed you. Your nipples hardened as he insistently brushed his thumbs back and forth over each tender nub.

"Please," you whimpered, though you weren't sure if you were begging him to stop or continue.

Curtis lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to your bed. He laid you down, then stepped back to shuck off his meager clothing - only a white shirt and dark pants. In the dim moonlight filtering through the window, his scales glimmered, casting otherworldly patterns across your skin as he loomed over you.

He settled onto the bed, slowly crawling over you. "Hush now," he murmured, a clawed finger tracing your lips. "I'll make you feel good, just as I did before."

Your nightgown was pushed up, exposing your bare skin to the cool night air. Curtis's hands roamed your body, reacquainting himself with every curve and dip. You bit your lip to stifle a moan as his fingers found your most sensitive areas.

"So responsive," he purred, his tail caressing your inner thigh. "Your body remembers me well."

You arched into his touch, shame and desire warring within you. You trembled, both from fear and anticipation, as the cool night air kissed your exposed skin. Curtis's eyes, gleaming in the darkness, roved hungrily over your bumps and curves.

"Gorgeous," he breathed, leaning down to press his lips to your stomach. "My child grows here."

You gasped as his tongue, longer and more dexterous than any human's, swirled around your navel. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wider as he settled between them. You could feel the heat of his breath against sex.

"Curtis," you whispered, your voice trembling. "We can't... my family..."

He looked up at you, his blue eyes glowing in the darkness. "Then you'll have to be very quiet, won't you, little one?"

Before you could protest further, his mouth was on you. His tongue, impossibly long and nimble, delved into your folds. You bit down on your fist to stifle a cry of pleasure. Curtis growled approvingly, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your core.

Your free hand tangled in the sheets. His tail slithered over your wrist, then wrapped around your thigh, holding you open for his ministrations. You writhed beneath him, struggling to stay quiet.

Curtis's tongue worked magic between your thighs, lapping and probing in ways that made your toes curl. You pressed your fist harder against your mouth, desperately trying to muffle your cries of pleasure. His tail tightened around your thigh, keeping you open as you squirmed beneath him.

"That's it," he murmured against your sensitive flesh. "Let go for me, little one."

Your hips bucked involuntarily as he sucked on your most sensitive bud. The pressure built inside you, a tidal wave threatening to crash over you at any moment. Curtis's fingers joined his tongue, stretching and filling you. The dual sensation was overwhelming.

"Curtis," you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper. "I can't... I can’t..."

“But you are,” he growled, the vibrations sending you over the edge. Your back arched off the bed as

Your back arched off the bed as pleasure exploded through you. Curtis's mouth stayed locked on your center, drawing out your climax until you were trembling and gasping for air. Only then did he lift his head, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

"Stunning," he murmured, crawling up your body. The scales along his torso rubbed against your sensitized skin, sending aftershocks through you. "But we're far from done, little one."

You felt the hard length of him pressing against your thigh, and a mix of fear and anticipation fluttered in your stomach, remembering how painful and then how pleasurable his thick member inside you had been. Curtis nuzzled your neck, inhaling deeply.

"Your scent is intoxicating," he growled. "Especially now, carrying my child."

His hand splayed possessively over your belly. You shivered, torn between the lingering pleasure and the reality of your situation. This creature - this man from the lake - had claimed you in ways you never imagined possible. And now he was here again, in your own bedroom, ready to take every piece of you once more.

Curtis's lips found yours in a searing kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth, tasting of you, of lake water, and something wild. You moaned softly against him, your body responding despite your lingering trepidation.

He pulled back, his blue eyes glowing in the darkness. "Turn over," he commanded softly.

Your heart raced as you obeyed, rolling onto your stomach. Curtis's hands gripped your hips, lifting them. You felt exposed, vulnerable in this position. His tail wrapped around your waist, steadying you.

"So beautiful," he murmured, his hands caressing your back, your sides, your bottom. You shivered at his touch, goosebumps rising on your skin.

You felt the blunt head of his member pressing against your entrance. Despite your earlier climax, you tensed, remembering the initial pain from your first encounter. Curtis sensed your apprehension and leaned over you, his chest pressed to your back.

"Relax, little one," he whispered in your ear. "Your body knows me now. It will welcome me."

Slowly, inexorably, he began to push inside. You bit down on your pillow to muffle your cries as he stretched you, filling you more completely than you thought possible. Your fingers clutched at the sheets, torn between the discomfort of the intrusion and the growing pleasure.

His hand slid between your legs, fingers circling your still-sensitive bud. You gasped, pushing back against him instinctively. Curtis took advantage of your movement, slowly pressing inside you.

The stretch was intense, but not painful as it had been before. Your body, as Curtis had promised, seemed to remember him, accommodating his impressive girth. You bit your lip to stifle a moan as he sank deeper.

"That's it," Curtis growled, his voice thick with pleasure.

Curtis's tail tightened around your waist as he seated himself fully within you. He stilled for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size, filling you completely. His hands roamed your body, caressing and soothing.

"So tight," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "You feel exquisite, little one."

You whimpered softly, overwhelmed by the fullness, the stretch. Curtis began to move, slow, shallow thrusts that made you gasp. His hand slid from your hip to your belly, caressing the slight swell there.

"Mine," he growled possessively. "Both of you."

You whimpered softly as he continued to move in slow, deeper thrusts that sent waves of pleasure through your body. His tail unwound from your waist, the tip sliding between your legs to tease your sensitive bud.

"Curtis," you gasped, struggling to keep your voice down. "It's too much..."

But your body betrayed your words, pushing back to meet his thrusts. Curtis chuckled darkly, nipping at your shoulder.

"Your body knows what it wants, little one," he purred. "It craves me, just as I crave you."

His pace increased gradually, each thrust driving deeper. You buried your face in the pillow, muffling your cries of pleasure. The initial discomfort had faded, replaced by waves of sensation that threatened to overwhelm you.

Curtis's movements grew more insistent, his hips snapping against yours with increasing force. You clutched the sheets, struggling to stay quiet as waves of pleasure washed over you. His tail continued its teasing ministrations between your legs, the dual sensations driving you towards another peak.

"That's it," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "Let go for me again, little one. Show me how much you've missed this."

Your body obeyed, even as your mind reeled at the intensity of it all. The coil of tension in your core wound tighter and tighter until it finally snapped. You bit down hard on the pillow, muffling your cry of ecstasy as your second orgasm crashed over you.

Curtis groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic as your inner walls clenched around him. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and humid against your skin. His hips jerked erratically as he reached his peak. With a low, guttural groan that vibrated through your entire body, he climaxed. You felt his member pulsing inside you as he pumped you full of his seed.

Wave after wave crashed over him as he continued to thrust, each movement sending another surge of his essence deep within you. His tail coiled tightly around your thigh, holding you in place as he claimed you completely.

The warmth of his release spread through you, a stark contrast to his cool skin. You shuddered beneath him, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensation and the knowledge of what was happening. The room filled with the scent of lake water, earth, and your combined arousal.

Curtis's teeth grazed your shoulder, not quite breaking the skin but leaving marks that would linger for days. His hands gripped your hips tightly as he rode out the last waves of his climax, determined to empty himself inside you. You trembled beneath him, your body still quivering with aftershocks.

Slowly, his grip loosened, and he eased himself out of you. You whimpered at the loss, feeling suddenly empty. Curtis gathered you in his arms, rolling onto his side and pulling you against his chest. His tail wrapped around your waist, holding you close.

"Beautiful," he murmured, nuzzling into your neck, the scratch of his beard making you shiver. "You were perfect, little one."

You lay there, catching your breath, your mind reeling from what had just transpired. You could feel the stickiness of some of your combined spend that had oozed out of your cunt hot between the top of your thighs. Curtis's hand splayed possessively over your belly, reminding you of the life growing within.

"What happens now?" you whispered, fear and uncertainty creeping back into your voice.

Curtis's arms tightened around you. "Now," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, "you come with me."

Your heart raced at his words. "What? I can't just leave, Curtis. My family, my life..."

He chuckled softly, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Your life is with me now, little one. You carry my child. You belong to the lake, to me."

You tried to pull away, but his grip was unyielding. "Please," you whispered, tears pricking at your eyes. "I'm not ready. I can't just disappear."

Curtis sighed, his breath cool against your neck. "I understand your hesitation," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "But you must understand, little one. Our child cannot be raised in the human world."

You trembled in his arms, torn between fear and a strange sense of longing. "I can't just leave. My family—"

"Will never understand," he finished for you. "They can't accept what you've become, what we've created together."

You closed your eyes, tears slipping down your cheeks. Part of you knew he was right - there was no way to explain your pregnancy, no way to raise a half-human, half-lake creature child in your village. But the thought of leaving everything you'd ever known was terrifying.

"Shh," he murmured. "I know it's frightening. But I will take care of you.”

“I’m not ready,” you cried softly. You weren’t ready to leave, you weren’t ready to carry his child, you weren’t ready for any of this.

Curtis's grip on you loosened slightly, though he didn't let go completely. His hand continued to caress your belly gently.

"I understand your fear," he murmured, his voice softer than you'd ever heard it. "This is all new to you. But you must understand, little one - our child cannot survive in your world. And you... you've been changed by our coupling. The lake calls to you now, doesn't it?"

You shivered, realizing the truth in his words. Ever since that first night, you'd felt drawn to the water in a way you never had before. The sight, the smell, the sound of it called to something deep within you.

"I... I need time," you whispered. "Please, Curtis. I can't just vanish without a trace. My family will worry."

He was quiet for a long moment, his tail tightening slightly around your waist before loosening as well.

“Curtis?” you prompted, worried as his silence drew on.

"Sleep now, little one," he finally murmured, his arms tightening around you once more. "Dawn will come soon enough."

But sleep didn't come easily. You lay there, hyper-aware of Curtis's presence behind you. His cool, slightly damp skin pressed against yours, his tail still wrapped loosely around your waist. The rise and fall of his chest against your back was steady, but you could tell from the tension in his body that he wasn't sleeping either.

The moonlight filtered through the window, casting eerie shadows across the room. Every creak of the house, every rustle of leaves outside, made you tense. You kept expecting someone to burst through the door, to discover you in the arms of this creature. But the night remained quiet, save for the gentle lapping of the lake's waves in the distance.

As the sky began to lighten, your eyelids grew heavy. Despite your racing thoughts, exhaustion finally overcame you.

When you awoke mere hours later, you were alone.

Well... a little surprise monster fucking for your Monday. HOPE THE HOES IN THIS HOUSE ENJOYED IT!

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

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marveldcmistress · 7 days ago

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🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

"Your Majesty," you murmur as you bow before the Prince.

"Ah, my favorite maid," Ransom teases.

You roll your eyes. "I am your betrothed."

"I'm painfully well aware," he bites back. "But really, what's the difference between a good wife and a good maid?"

You sigh, the thoughts of being stuck with this man for the rest of your life filled you with a rage you were unable to express. "At least a maid gets to go home for the day. Gets paid. And even gets some satisfaction in the form of a job well done."

"You will be paid in the form of joining the royal family," he snaps back. "And I'll make sure you feel so satisfied you don't mind not getting a break from me."

You let out a harsh laugh, "don't make promises you can't keep, Your Majesty. From what I've heard, your partner's satisfaction is never a concern of yours."

He growls at you, "I've never heard complaints."

"Of course not," you scoff. "They wouldn't dare say otherwise to your face. As your wife, however, I can promise to be painfully honest with you at every opportunity."

Ransom glowers at you but inwardly he's excited at the prospect of having a worthy adversary for once.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

- Zombie

Oh my god, yes!!!! Oh, I love this so much!

My favorite part is that now Ransom is going to need to prove himself. This is the prefect set up for lots of hot fucking between two people who think they hate each other. Until, of course, they don't. 😏

Thank you, thank you, my dear @thezombieprostitute ! This was perfect!!

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marveldcmistress · 10 days ago

Text

The Arrangement - Part 8

Summary: Jake's done a lot of things to keep his sister, and then his niece, safe from his parent's influence and manipulation. If he wants to keep them safe, he has to marry you.

Warnings: Bad parents, Implied abuse. Let me know if I missed any!

Part 7 -- Part 9

Series Masterlist

You and Jake share a look of terror as you hear his father's voice followed by your own father's. You quickly grab the dishes out of Jake's hands and whisper, "you have to go greet them" before running to the kitchen. Jake is hurt that you're ditching him but then realizes how it would look if he was doing the housework. It's in the contract that he has to behave so his greeting them would be part of that.

"Hello Father, Mother, Montgomery, Carol," Jake greets coldly. "We weren't expecting you to visit."

"Of course not," Montgomery replies, chuckling.

"We decided, last night after the two of you had left, to meet up at your place for breakfast," Cordelia explains.

"And none of you thought to let us know? A text? A phone call? Anything?" Jake tries to argue without sounding out of line.

"Why on earth would we do that?" Carol chimes in.

"Well, we are kinda on our honeymoon," Jake sputters. "What if...what if you had walked in on us?"

All four of them laugh before William, placing a firm hand on Jake's shoulder, explains, "it's an arranged marriage, Son. We're not expecting the two of you to get into bed right away. Especially with how awkward the two of you are."

"We were comparing notes on the two of you," Montgomery clarifies. "Neither of you is particularly good with people. It's why we decided to go with one bed in this entire place, to help the two of you out!"

"I see," Jake seethes, his face going red. "Well, we just got done eating breakfast, so I hope you don't mind if I don't eat."

He steps aside and gestures for them to head to the dining area. As they sit down, Jake's parents on one side, your parents on the other, Jake can smell that you're already cooking up something. Again, he wishes you could be the one to deal with them but he can kind of appreciate that you're helping in your way.

"Have a seat, Jacob," William tells him. "We have a lot to discuss with regards to your future."

"I was just going to get everyone drinks first," Jake argues.

He's met with mocking laughter from everyone before Montgomery tells him, "that's your wife's job as hostess! My daughter is quite the cook, though, isn't she? She'll be bringing out drinks and food for everyone. You sit."

"Maybe this will finally teach her the value of having servants to do the menial work so she can actually host," Carol sneers. Jake has to bite back a comment about that.

"Oh it was always for the best that she hid herself away," Montgomery gently chides. "She never had your social skills. Would've embarrassed us to no end if she hadn't picked up a skill or two." Carol rolls her eyes as she nods in agreement.

Unable to take any more bad talk about you, Jake turns to William, "so, my future?"

"Ah yes," William started. "Obviously you have the skills and work history to be the CIO of our family company. However that would reek of nepotism and we don't need that kind of bad press or ill will in our employees. Goodness knows they've been close to unionizing more times than I care to admit! However, with your marriage so recent, we can set you up as CIO in Montgomery's company and people won't realize until it's too late and you've settled yourself in."

Jake nods and turns to Montgomery, "okay, yes. CIO is higher up in the rankings than expected but it is up my alley, skill wise. What's the actual work going to look like?"

"Well, as we've said before, we know that networking isn't your forte so you'll likely end up doing a lot of actual work while the rest of us executives do the talking." Jake nods in agreement. "But you'll still have a corner office and a pretty, little secretary all your own."

"But we will be building up your social skills," Cordelia chimes in. "Carol and I have accepted invitations on your behalf for the two of you to attend some parties, get your faces out there, and all that."

"What kinds of parties?" Jake's voice is strained with effort to keep calm.

"Most of them of charity events that will make you look good for attending," Carol explains. "Little things that no one actually cares about but they're good for your image."

Conversation is momentarily interrupted as you bring plates of food out for everyone. Crepes for everyone, fruit crepes for the mothers and savory ones for the fathers. "I'll be right back with drinks for everyone," you murmur before running back to the kitchen. Jake is grateful for the break from talking as everyone starts eating. He wants to ask if you need help but given the reaction he got earlier it's probably better for him to sit quiet.

As you're setting down the drinks in front of everyone the talking starts up again. You take your spot at the table, opposite of Jake, close to the kitchen.

"And now that you're both here, we can talk about the upkeep on this place." Your mother gestures to all of the decorations, the ones you know she picked out. "These all require a lot of regular cleaning so you're likely going to want to hire a maid service or something."

"I was actually wondering if we could get rid of some of them," Jake broached. Your eyes widened in shock and your mother's smile drops. "It just...it looks really cluttered, to me."

Carol slams her drink onto the table and turns to you. "Did you tell him to say that?! I know you've never liked my decoration choices! How could you be such an ungrateful child! Do you know how much time and money I put into making this place look stylish and perfect?!"

She grabs your arm but lets go when Jake slams a fist on the table.

"SHE has nothing to do with it! I'M asking because I don't like the decorations. Leave her out of this!"

"YOU don't get to tell me how to treat my daughter!"

"She is also my wife and I won't let her be harassed in such an unwarranted manner!"

Your mother turns back to you, "do you see what your doing? Do you see how much you've already poisoned my son-in-law against me?! Why can't you be the good, obedient daughter we worked so hard to raise you to be!"

"She hasn't done anything!"

"Carol, Sweetheart," Montgomery intervenes. "Let the children be. We should expect some growing pains with this new union."

Your mother huffs but turns back to her food. You're fighting the tears that want to fall, fear and embarrassment filling your mind, making it difficult to breathe.

Your father turns to Jake, "I have to say, a display like that would certainly do wonders to legitimize your relationship."

Cordelia adds, "maybe we should set something up at one of the charity events. Plant an actor to harass her or something."

"Yes, that would also tie in with his military history making him seem much stronger, like a real man of action," William considers. "Could be good for getting the trust of investors."

"Oh, and I'll bet we could use it to get the attention of those 'family first' politicians. Or at least their base," Carol chimes in, her previous anger seemingly forgotten.

The parents end up commandeering the conversation for the rest of breakfast. No one even asks you or Jake anything, even though they're discussing your future. You work at silently removing plates and refilling drinks, used to this kind of treatment. Meanwhile Jake keeps looking redder and more frustrated with each passing minute. It really drives home how out of his element he is. He even tried to stop your mother from yelling at you. No one's ever done that before.

As you refill the drinks you make sure to grab Jake a mug of coffee and you give a gentle squeeze of his hand as a silent thank you. He looks up at you and for a moment you're caught off guard at how much he looks like a scared puppy. You can't help but lean in and whisper, "you're going to be okay."

Part 7 -- Part 9

Series Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @ashdoctor; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn;

@jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly

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marveldcmistress · 13 days ago

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All the better to eat you

werewolf!Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: You muster the courage to visit Scaretale, with your heart full of hope for a magical romance. After all, the club promises that no client would leave without having their wishes fulfilled. So the love you've been longing after should be waiting for you, right?

warnings: werewolf!Steve; dark!Steve; monsterfucking, but no bestiality; heavy dub-con; blowjob/facefucking (possibly the nastiest bj I've ever written 😳); unprotected sex; knotting; biting; size kink;

word count: 5.3k

Author's Note: This is a part of the Scaretale universe. I think it's fitting I'm starting the monster fucking extravaganza with my fave man to ruin me, right? 🤭 The title is an obvious tease on the classic Red Riding Hood text.

It was a thrill reminiscent of the first minutes of a movie. The kind you watched on a late autumn evening, with a candle lit up and hot chocolate in hand, curled up on a couch and wary of any sounds creaking inside the house.

It spiked pulse and lured in with the mystical, almost forbidden atmosphere; keeping you on your toes in fear of something truly scary jumping out at you.

You grew up in a rather tolerant household, taught not to be scared of monsters more than you should human men. Still, certain caution and fear pumped through your veins as you neared the entrance of the Scaretale.

A building straight out of a fairytale, situated on the border of lands between human and monstrous worlds. Though those merged fluently over the past half a century, or so. Half of your coworkers were other species. It was impolite to call them creatures, or monsters, even if that word somehow always echoed in your head.

Perhaps you’d never have the balls to visit Scaretale, if it wasn’t for the deepening sense of loneliness and heartbreak. And since your regular methods at dating all failed, leaving you with an even worse feeling of self-loathing, the glow of the letters embroidered on the dark leaflet enticed you even more.

All fairy tales install fear, but they also give satisfying completion in the end. Come and start your own tale, find who you’ve been missing. We promise that once you get inside, you won’t leave without your ever after.

Scaretale tempted with making those dreams come true. Was it naive of you to have your heart squeezing in hope at the prospect of it?

Not a part of you was a romantic - it was all of you. Craving someone to share the life with. You didn’t expect perfection, that was unrealistic. But you yearned for connection and support, for a warm embrace to hold you after a tiring day, for someone to call you theirs and mean it.

Oh gods, how obsessively you sometimes wished that someone would really consider you theirs - even to the point of possessiveness, of certain ownership.

You explained it with your prolonged lack of any deep connection and love. A hole in your heart that kept growing and growing, until it was no longer sated by casual dates and sweet flirting, but needed a more intense, obsessive kind of love.

If human men failed in that department, maybe a monster would be your match. Didn’t even have to provide a warm embrace, you joked to yourself as you readied for the night. A nice, cold vampire would do. They had years to mature, most of them had an established income, or savings, a sense of dark humor.

So you left your apartment with your heart fluttering, moved by the flashes of dreams of a great love you’ve been chasing half of your life.

However, the second you stepped inside the Scaretale, your heart froze for a second.

It didn’t look scary, nor was it filled with screams and sounds of violence. Quite the contrary, the air of tranquility coated the space. But the glow within, that didn’t seem to come off of any actual lamp, heightened the sense of wariness.

Humans were here, but it was obvious this space belonged to the monsters and was most of all their realm. That enchanting sense of calm began feeling like a mesmer that forced your body to move forward, while your brain filled with rising anxiety whispering that perhaps it would be better to leave.

Somehow, you couldn’t.

You took a deep breath, smelling sweet berries and gardenias in the most natural combination, as if you were walking through an actual garden. It was relaxing, yet in a way seemed to clog your mind.

Maybe if you went outside for a minute to breathe the crispy, chilly air of late October evening, it would clear your head and help you regroup your thoughts.

Even as that thought formed in your head, your body didn’t move toward the exit. Only a step forward.

At your pace - shy and unsure, but never a step back.

The echo of the words from the leaflet clenched your heart in a tight grip. We promise that once you get inside, you won’t leave without your ever after. It appeared to be an actual enchantment.

Scared, you looked around. No one was charging at you, no gnarly vines gripped you to swallow you under the ground. Patrons were calmly mingling around. Some sat in booths alone, simply observing the others. Maybe even looking for the same thing as you - someone to love. Or less romantically, someone to share a passionate night with.

There were also groups, like in one of the big booths where a bunch of thickly muscled, quite scary looking orcs were drinking beer. Neither of them looked approachable, their faces seemed frozen in permanent scowl. Their bodies, though clean of any trace of it, screamed of bloodbath.

In the center of the room, far deep inside the neverending space of the club, stood an oval bar. The shelves hanging above the counter were so thin it looked like the glasses and bottles were floating in the air, among teardrop-shaped bulbs of light. A slim, graceful bartender was running the bar; her hair long and a color of impossible blue.

Two men sat at the bar, their gazes turning your way as you walked closer. At a first glance they appeared human, but the similarity quickly dissolved. Their dark skin had markings of burgundy red that flashed with a shade of molten lava. Between the curls of their dark hair sparked flickers of pure fire.

Ifrits.

A flush of heat passed over you as they scanned your form with interest. For a moment you felt a spike of curiosity, wondering how an ifrit’s heat would feel against your skin. But it quickly passed, being only a figment of natural desire, but not the deep connection you searched.

The men seemed to read you well enough to realize you weren’t one looking for an adventure and they weren’t interested in providing more than that. They nodded politely at you, then moved their gazes to roam around.

Though you felt a certain relief, there was also that bitter pang of sadness. Once again, you weren’t what someone was looking for.

All those years you repeated over and over again to yourself, that it was okay to not be interested in someone. After all, you weren’t interested in some people either. But for so long it felt as if you were never anyone’s choice, that you couldn’t help but think you would never be.

When you went out with your friends, back in college years, or even recently, someone always flirted up, or approached your group. Just not you. All your friends, but never you. Some talked to you, but it was obvious they weren’t interested in more.

A dreadful thought settled with heavy weight on your shoulders. What if you were now trapped here forever? Not leaving without your ever after, but if there was no one for you, what would happen to you?

Just when your heart squeezed painfully, your chin dropping to your chest as you stared at the dark green floor in hope to hide the shine of your tears, a low, rumbling sound teased your ear.

You didn’t feel anyone’s presence behind you, or anywhere near you, but you heard that sound. That… growl.

Slowly, you raised your head and looked around. For a long moment you didn’t notice anyone who could’ve been the owner of that voice. Until your eyes settled on the shadowed nook across from the bar.

Only a faint outline of the silhouette was visible from your standing point. And a pair of glowing, blue eyes. Beautiful, but wild. Something dangerous lurked in that gaze, raising goosebumps on your arms.

Anxiety rose anew, your instincts screaming at you to run. Fast and far. But you couldn’t move your feet an inch back, only stay in place, or move forward.

Breath hitched in your lungs as the mysterious shadow slowly stood up, stretching to its full form. He was even bigger than you assessed him to be while sitting. Those eyes held yours captive, demanding you watch him as he approached in slow steps. Once he got into the light and you took in all of him, your breathing stopped altogether.

He wasn’t just big. He was huge! And broad. Massive. His dark clothes didn’t hide what was obviously cords of muscles on top of muscles on top of muscles. While his shoulders were wide enough to get stuck in the door, his waist was tapered. His legs were long, but with thick thighs. Legs built for running.

For chasing…

His dark blonde hair curled at his nape, his beard was thick and trimmed. You saw curls of dark golden hair covering his forearms, where the sleeves of his dark sweater were rolled up, revealing skin.

As he approached you, his tongue swiped out to lick his bottom lip, then over the upper row of his teeth. You caught a glimpse of a sharp canine, but it wasn’t a vampiric one.

No, this monster was very much living. Blood and flesh and all things primal.

A werewolf.

Your body jolted, struck with an inner bolt of adrenaline. Like at a jumpscare in a horror movie, but this one very much real.

Your heart thumped rapidly, forcing your blood to rush so fast it almost made you dizzy. It was scary. He was scary. Yet, you couldn’t help, but follow that sensation further. Just like never turning off the horror movie and continuing to watch it, even though you’re shaken and sweaty.

“Hello.”

His greeting was so simple, seemingly unimpressive, but the timbre of his voice alone made it a knee-weakening seduction.

Or maybe a threat…

Because the way he loomed over you, his eyes never leaving you, you started to realize that he wouldn’t allow you to step away from him.

“Hi,” you squeaked out, then cleared your throat to hopefully regain your normal voice.

“I won’t ask what a sweet bunny like you is doing here,” his sharp, white teeth flashed in a truly wolfish smile, “but I will ask that you stay still while I take a first deep whiff of my future mate.”

What?! Your mind screeched. Your body, meanwhile, went still. Just like he asked.

“Ma- what?” Your tone dried breathless. “We’re not- I’m not-”

Your words got stuck in your throat when the werewolf breached your personal space and bent down to drag the tip of his nose against your neck.

A shiver rocked you, but a solid arm wrapped around you in a flash, steading you. Or maybe holding you in place, so you wouldn’t dare inch away from him. His incredible warmth engulfed you like a weighted blanket - a layer of comfort hidden deep beneath the scary sense of constriction and suffocation.

He smelled of pine and burnt wood and a heady note you couldn’t describe as anything other than masculine.

“Absolutely delicious.” He hummed appreciatively, leaning back with visible reluctance.

“I’m not your mate,” you managed to blurt out, looking around in panic in hope that someone would come to your aid.

“Of course not.” He smiled, but it wasn’t reassuring at all. “Not until I have you writhing on my knot and bite you.”

The visual of it had you whimpering in fear; your eyes stung with tears that threatened to spill out. He had you caged out in the open of the club, publicly; you were sure your discomfort and trembling were visible to others; yet no one came to help you. Were they scared of the huge werewolf, or maybe they just didn’t care?

“No, I meant that I won’t-” your nervous explanation died on your tongue the second his hand snapped your way.

His large hand cupped your chin; surprisingly gentle, even in its firm hold. However, the long claws protruding from his fingers, grazing the delicate skin of your cheeks, were far from non-threatening.

Shockingly, your body responded in contrast to your mind’s anxious thoughts. As the werewolf’s claws dug into your soft cheeks, your nipples hardened into stiff peaks.

“You will.” Came his calm, unyielding decision.

He yanked your face up, forcing you to stand on your tiptoes and rely your weight to be supported by his hold alone. Starking blue eyes stared down at you, the rim around the irises glowing a silvery moon.

Then there was that grin again - sinister and teasing, with a flash of teeth (which made your skin prickle in fear of the vicious bite mauling your flesh).

“Scaretale promises its patrons realization of their deepest desire.” He said and you felt dread building in your chest with a silent scream. “But I’ll let you in on a little secret, bunny. It’s the monsters that get the privilege of having their desires met. Sweet humans are the prey that gets to fulfill our demands.”

Your hope shattered into a million pieces. Or was it your heart that broke for yourself and the love you were dreaming of finding. Tears welled up in your eyes as the heavy reality of entering a nightmare settled in.

“Aww, why the tears, sweet bunny?” He cooed at you, with the pad of his thumb brushing away a tear trickling down your cheek.

“Because I didn’t want this,” your meek voice barely made it past your lips.

“I would perhaps believe you, if your nipples weren’t poking right through your pretty dress,” he chuckled. “Or-” he leaned closer, lips brushing the corner of your mouth- “if I didn’t smell your pussy priming itself for me.”

A flush of heat scorched your cheeks. You weren’t paying much attention to that part of your body, too lost in the anxious wailing of your mind, but as he mentioned your core your focus shifted to the pulse between your thighs. You weren’t wet, not exactly. But you felt that warmth and tingling; the growing interest your body had in the werewolf’s brutal ways.

“Will you let me go? Afterwards?” You asked, sniffling quietly.

A part of you wondered, if you had any chance fighting him off, but logic itself made that calculation quick. There was no way you would manage to slip away from his grip, without him allowing you to. So as bitter and numbing it was to accept, you knew you had to give in, to at least protect yourself from too much damage.

A frown marred his handsome face for a second, before it relaxed into that easy charm he first greeted you with.

“There’s no afterwards. There’s only forever.” He tenderly stroked your cheek with his thumb. “Werewolves mate for life, bunny.”

Your crushed heart gave a pang, a reawakening jolt.

Didn’t you want someone to call you theirs forever? To own you?

Scaretale gave you that wish, in its own very twisted, cruel way.

“But I don’t even know your name.” Your hands twisted in the fabric of his sweater; half of your mind still considered trying to fight the monster off.

“Steve,” he grinned. He released your chin to run his fingers down your neck and then to the back of your head. “You can tell me yours, or I can keep calling you bunny.” He gripped a fistful of your hair and nipped your earlobe with his teeth.

“Though, I admit, I’m a sentimental man and I’d like to groan your name when I break your holes.”

You made a pitiful sound of protest, which didn’t get a chance to really resound as Steve’s mouth claimed yours. Like with the way he moved and touched, his kiss spoke of the wild beast that ruled him. He wasn’t just kissing you, he was devouring. Conquering.

And you melted into it. Your body became pliant and aroused.

He tapped your swollen lips with a sharp claw, once again asking for your name. You whispered it and as your mouth parted to sound the word, Steve slipped a finger into your warm cavern. Tip of his claw teased at your tongue, causing you to stiffen in fear. Suddenly, there was pressure on the flat of your tongue as his thick finger settled on it and massaged; but there was no slice of claw anymore.

Steve withdrew his finger, but the grip of his other hand on the nape of your neck tightened. He pushed you in front of him and led you deeper into the club’s depths. In time, lights seemed to dim and the main room divided into three corridors.

The left and right corridors were shrouded in darkness, your human eyes couldn’t see any path other than the abyss. The middle corridor was doused in glow - soft, magical, luring.

Steve turned left and you felt yourself shiver as darkness engulfed you. He didn’t seem to have any problem in navigating the eternal, starless night that filled the tunnel. Finally, you reached the end, marked by the outline of an ornate door. The markings lit up as Steve’s hand touched the frame.

When he pushed you through it, you stumbled into a bedroom. A cozy looking, not too big bedroom, with a massive, wood frame bed taking most of the space. The place didn’t look like a fancy hotel room, nor like a bedroom that could match Scaretale’s interior. No, this place was personal and lived in. It was someone’s home.

A home that smelled of pine, burnt wood and musk.

You turned around, glancing at the door now closed behind Steve’s back. They didn’t look anything like the ones you stepped through, but like a normal door in what could be a cabin in the woods.

An intricate marking glowed on the upper beam of the frame, suddenly igniting in flame that burnt all the magic out. Leaving only a reminder of the portal that was activated, but now closed permanently.

You had no way back to the Scaretale. Or your home.

“Steve-” you took a tentative step back as your gaze returned to him.

“Strip.” He ordered, taking off his own sweater in one, swift move.

“P-please…” you felt the sting of tears again, even as your walls pulsed at the sight of Steve’s half naked, impressive body.

His skin was fair, near marble like sculpture of defined muscles. But not as bare and smooth. Thick curls of dark golden hair covered his arms, shoulders and chest, from where it trailed low across his torso in a stripe leading to…

Holy fuck, you were going to die!

His cock wasn’t just proportionate to the rest of his massive body, it was near monstrous looking in its shape - with the bulbous head angry red and shiny with pearly precum; pulsing veins that curved along his girth; large, heavy sack nestled in a crown of gold hair; and a thick, wide ring of a knot at the base that already felt impossible to push into any of your holes, much less when it inflated.

“I’m growing impatient, bunny,” Steve snarled, prowling towards you. “I can rip it off of you, but I don’t know if it’s a dress you really like, so I don’t want to make you sad by ruining it.”

“Why don’t you care about making me sad by ruining me?” You snapped, but it lacked viciousness. Partly because of fear, partly because you were breathless with unexpected need.

You had nowhere else to run when the back of your legs hit the bedframe and Steve loomed over you.

“Trust me, bunny,” he emitted a low growl, “when I ruin your holes, you’ll feel nothing but delirious pleasure and happiness.”

He didn’t give you a second chance to undress. With two harsh moves he ripped the fabric apart, his claws so sharp they easily sliced through. He held your gaze as he hooked one pointy talon beneath the lace of your panties.

“Such beautiful eyes,” he murmured, slowly dragging his claw back and forth. “That fear and arousal. Can’t wait to see it as you struggle to take my cock.”

A single snick and your panties were ripped away and tossed to the side. Then Steve’s hand was curling on your shoulder and pushing you down.

“On your knees, bunny. And open your mouth wide.”

You obeyed, feeling yourself shiver as your face found itself at level with his hard dick. Your fingers trembled against your thighs; the need to slide them between your folds growing stronger than the instinct to push the predator away.

“It won’t fit,” you stared wide-eyed at the cock bobbing in front of you.

“It sure won’t,” Steve chuckled, cupping your face in his big palms. “But you’re still going to take it. Now, tongue out.”

A whine shrilled in your throat when the wide crown stretched your lips and pushed deep inside. The more of him was forced forward, the wider your mouth had to open and the less room to breathe was left. A cry for mercy became only a garbled pitch as Steve held your head in place and pushed his cock to the back of your throat.

Tears streamed down, your drool flooded out as he slowly withdrew. Your spit was sticking to the curve of his dick, strings of saliva breaking and splashing on your chin.

When he surged forward again, your hands flew to his thick, hairy thighs. But there was no way of stopping him from taking you as he wished. It terrified you.

It also made your pussy drip.

“That’s all sweet, bunny,” Steve groaned, feeling your tongue moving against him helplessly, your throat constricting in resistance as he speared your mouth.

“But I need more from my little bitch!” He snarled and abruptly stepped forward.

You were pushed backwards, forced to change your position from kneeling to landing on your butt. Your back hit the sturdy frame of the bed; your legs spread wide, knees pressed to your chest.

Steve had your head tipped back, hands holding you in place as he fucked your face straight from above.

With your mouth and throat in one line, he could force his cock deeper. His balls were hitting your drool-covered chin over and over again. Your choking and obscene wet sounds mixed with Steve’s lewd groans of pleasure.

“That’s it!” He moaned, dipping in and out of your throat. “Taking your mate’s cock like a good little bitch and enjoying it. I can smell it, you know.”

You wouldn’t be able to protest, even if you wanted to deny his nasty claim. The worst, however, was that Steve was right. You were spread open, dripping slick down your buttocks; your pussy clenched around nothing, desperate for that monstrous cock.

You coughed and spluttered when Steve pulled out, a wheezing sob leaving your sore mouth. Steve slapped his wet cock against your cheek, then rubbed it all over your face, smearing your own spit and his pre-cum all over you. He barked at you to keep your pretty mouth open, then stuffed it with his heavy sack. Well, as much of it as he could fit in.

“Suck a little, bunny,” his instruction came out breathy, betraying how affected he was by the whole ordeal. “I know they’re a mouthful, but they’re just full of all the cum I’m going to fill you with.”

Your cunt spasmed and you let out a garbled moan.

Finally, another reprieve for much needed air was granted. Steve took half a step back, breathing heavily as he looked down at your messy, shivering form at his feet. Dark hunger flashed in his eyes and you weren’t sure, if it was only desire, or something more dangerous.

He picked you up so easily, lifting you into his arms with no strain and tossing you onto the bed. Instinctively, you squirmed up the mattress, seeking escape. Steve followed in that unrushed, steady prowl; like a predator, who already knew his prey was his to devour.

He spread your legs. You stilled, feeling tips of his claws pressing into your skin.

“My, my, bunny,” he licked his lips, “what a pretty, soaked cunt you have.”

Steve swiped his fingers higher. You squeaked when he lightly brushed your puffed, glistening folds with his claws. It made him grin wolfishly and he pressed a little harder.

“All the better to take all of your mate’s cock,” not easing his pressure on your core, Steve stretched above you.

Your thighs stayed parted wide for him, allowing him to brace the weight of his body on one arm placed next to you, while he settled on top of you.

“What tempting, hard nipples you have,” he continued his twisted fairy tale, his voice a deep, haunting caress.

“All the better to suck on and torment,” Steve closed his mouth around one peak and sucked, at the same time flicking his tongue over it.

Your back arched. Your arms encircled his back, fingers digging into the steel muscles as you held on. When his mouth moved to your other breast, one of your hands weaved into his hair. Your tugging evoked a growly rumble that reverberated against your sensitive nipple.

Steve trailed open mouth kisses up your chest and along your neck, grazing the dip over your pulse with his sharp teeth. You squirmed, a new surge of adrenaline quickening your blood flow as you remembered his promise about the bite.

When he took your mouth, it was with less vehemence than the first kiss. He coaxed your lips open and teased your tongue with his own. The fingers splayed over your pussy kept steadily moving, smearing your slick all over.

“What a sweet mouth you have,” he murmured, nipping your bottom lip. “And we already know what can be done with it.”

His blue eyes sparked as your breath hitched, when he spread your folds and dipped his fingers deeper. The fear of pain from the claws had you reacting first, though there was nothing to hurt you. He retracted them.

“You’re fucking dripping, bunny.” Steve groaned in satisfaction. “So much that I bet it trickled to your dirty rosebud, too.”

He didn’t wait for your confirmation, just slid a single digit lower, where he found exactly what he predicted. You strained against him; one of your hands shot down between your bodies to clutch at his wrist. But Steve didn’t budge, pressing his finger against your tight rim, which was slick with your juices.

“Shh, shh,” he cooed. “Why are you fighting so hard, bunny? Afraid it’s going to hurt? Or that you will cum from having your ass played with, like a weak, needy bitch?”

He circled and pressed, circled and pressed, driving you mad with sensations you couldn’t untangle.

“I promise you, my lovely bunny,” though he removed his finger from between your asscheeks, there was nothing reassuring in the dark promise he vowed against your lips- “You will cum from anything I do to your sweet body. Because you are my little bitch.”

“And it’s time that I claim what’s mine!” His snarl combined with your cry as Steve suddenly sat back and flipped you onto your stomach.

He yanked your hips up, making you kneel on the mattress. One of his hands pressed against the back of your head, pressing it into the sheets. You felt pinpricks of claws grazing your skull.

Steve settled behind you, coarse hair on his thighs tickling your delicate skin. His cock spread your swollen folds and he rocked his hips, rubbing the whole length of him against you, soaking himself in your slick. He was already wet with your saliva, but considering his size you didn’t mind him adding more lubrication.

“Ungh!” You keened when he pressed into your hole. “Too big! Steve, it’s too-”

Your toes curled, feet kicking helplessly against the mattress, as Steve ignored your pleas and inched forward.

At least he was taking it slow. But maybe slow was more tortuous than if he broke you on one, single thrust.

His hand on your head pressed harder when your body jerked in an instinctive attempt to scramble away. The other hand landed on your ass with a hard slap.

It made you clench around him, causing a new kind of ripple of pleasurable pain.

He was stretching you so much, so close to the edge of ripping pain. But for the most part it was igniting a delirious ecstasy, confusing you and burning away any protests. Your pussy wasn’t used to sensations like that, yet she welcomed it with creamy joy.

“There you go, bunny.” Steve encouraged you, delighted in the way you moaned obscenely when he was halfway in and the head of his cock nudged that special spot.

To reward you, he withdrew and slid back in, once again teasing that point. And again. And again. Until your thighs were shaking and your wetness was dripping onto the sheets.

“Almost there, huh?” He chuckled, feeling your walls fluttering. “Well then-”

He withdrew in the same steady pace, only to ram the whole length of him in one stroke on the next thrust.

You screamed, but even as the pain short-circuited your consciousness for a split of a second, your pussy spasmed.

Steve stayed buried to the hilt, relishing in your orgasm milking his cock. He didn’t wait for the aftershocks to subside, before starting a brutal rhythm. He fucked you like the animalistic monster that he was - with unparalleled hunger, incessant need, and no regard for your discomfort.

“Good girl, bunny.” He draped his weight over you, hot breath fanning your cheek. “Such a good bitch for your mate.”

He licked a wet line along your jaw, then down to the crook of your neck. Your mewling protest was ignored as Steve scraped his teeth over the spot he was going to mark.

“Do you feel it swelling?” He teased. “Do you feel it spreading you wider each time I drive into your tiny pussy? My knot ’s about to pop, bunny. And when it does, I’m going to fill you so much. It’s going to lock your cunt in place, so that you have no other choice, but to take every fucking load.”

“Until it feels like your belly is too heavy. Like you’re about to burst at the seams.” His thrust became harsher, jerky and - just like he said - each stretching you with the growing knot. “Like your cunt aches from taking too much.”

“And you will take it all, bunny. You know why?” Steve’s teeth dipped into your skin, not yet breaking, but threatening. “Yeah, you do. You know why. Say it!”

He slapped your ass when you didn’t reply, only moaned helplessly..

“Say it!” He spanked you again.

“Because I’m your little bitch!” You cried out, face half buried into the sheets and tears streaking down.

Beast’s teeth sunk into your skin, breaking it and drawing a flow of blood. His jaw locked in, just like his cock did in your pussy. Inflated knot, spreading you wider than ever before, shifted your channel so that the crown of Steve’s cock rested right against your cervix. And he bathed it in his seed.

White haze filled your brain as the pinnacle of pleasure and zap of pure pain switched off your consciousness.

When you groggily reconnected with bits of reality, your body was curled on its side. Steve’s body was aligned with yours; his cock still nestled deep inside of you. His arms were holding you tight, providing enough warmth for you to realize the tremors rocking you weren’t from cold, but the aftershocks from an orgasm.

Though you weren’t sure if it was still the one his knot ignited, or if the werewolf coaxed another climax out of you while you were unconscious.

You wouldn’t put it past him.

“Steve-” you croaked out.

“I’ve got you, bunny.” He tenderly kissed your shoulder. “I’ve got you and I always will. Your ever after, mate.”

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marveldcmistress · 16 days ago

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marveldcmistress · 17 days ago

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Flufftober 20

Alt 2: "I hate it." / "No, you don't."

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Tags/Warnings: FLUFF, swearing (it's Ran). established relationship,

Summary: Going to a charity gala, Ransom despises the tie you've gotten him. Word Count: 626 words

A/N: Sorry to all dog lovers (myself included) and no hate to Paul Smith for the inspiration of the dog tie (here). Also sorry it came after a lil Scratch the dog fic! - Love, Grem x

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"I hate it."

"No, you don't."

You sigh, biting back a smile as you straighten your boyfriend's new tie. He'd promised he'd wear whatever tie you got him, so long as it was designer. He'd said he didn't care what tie, so long as it was designer.

And, oh, it was designer alright.

One hundred and twenty pounds (or one hundred and fifty-five US dollars and seventy-eight cents) worth of fabric embroidered with multiple different breeds of dog.

Hugh Ransom Drysdale hated dogs.

"It's Paul Smith," You say coolly, smoothing the tie down. You can tell Ransom is seething by the rise and fall of his chest and you know damn well he's glaring daggers at you.

"It's fuck ugly is what it is," He hisses back at you, his own large hands inspecting the tie. You take a cautionary glance up to see him frowning at the tie and then glancing to the mirror with a worried expression.

"Ooh now don't say that," You coo mockingly and swiftly turn your back to him before he can catch your grin. You knew he'd hate it. That's why you'd bought it. He'd royally pissed you off two weeks ago when you were planning for the event in typical Ransom fashion; blowing you off and being a selfish prick as per usual. You loved your boyfriend - but sometimes he got on your damn nerves and this time, you weren't willing to let it go.

You picked up the small square box on the chair in front of you, handing it to Ransom with a smile.

"Here," You chirp, handing him the box. "I got this for you too."

Ransom balked as he opened the box, finding a matching pocket square for his tie.

"No..." He says quietly, looking up at you in disbelief. "Please don't make me wear this."

You bite back a laugh, trying your best to pout at him sweetly. "You promised, Ran."

Ransom's eyes scanned your sweet face. He had promised and there was no manipulation he could use to wriggle his way out of it. He checked his watch. The taxi would be here in five minutes. There was no time to change and you would be mad at him all night for breaking his promise. He'd have to suffer through it for you.

Oh, the things one does for love.

Ransom sighs, folding the pocket square into his suit jacket and giving a dejected look into the mirror as he gives himself one final once-over. Every time his eyes got drawn to the tie he wanted to rip it off.

You watch his internal turmoil proudly, folding your arms across your chest and admiring him. You inch slowly in the direction of the door.

"You look good," You reassure him.

"I always look good," He quips, adjusting the tie a third time. "I'll help you organise the gala next time. I'm... sorry I left it all to you."

You blink for a moment. Ransom never usually apologises. You narrow your eyes at him, now half sticking out of the door.

"You're not getting out of wearing it." You say cautiously.

"I'm not." Ransom huffs and rakes a hand through his hair. "Genuinely, I'm sorry."

The way he's looking at you confirms it and your smile softens your features. You're silently kicking your shoes off from behind the door and Ransom is starting to look at you quizzically.

"Thanks honey," You gush, excitement brewing in your chest as your bare feet touch the floor of the large house. "Promise you won't do it again?"

Ransom smiles and then nods. "Promise. I was an ass."

"You were." You agree and laugh at the frown he gives you. "But, do you mean it? About helping me next time?"

"I do." He places his hand over his heart and winces as if the tie hurt him. "Scout's honour."

"Good," You smirk. "You can help pick out an outfit and tie tomorrow... Because if you'd been paying attention, you'd know the Gala is next week."

Ransom's smile drops and you can only hear him yelling after you as you bound down the long hallway in your bare feet. Ransom Drysdale may be smart but you were always smarter. Always one step ahead of him; the only person he'd be less selfish for and all the more foolish. He couldn't help but grin, tugging the tie from around his neck as he chased after you and discarding it somewhere he couldn't care less about, thinking about how much he loved you and how he couldn't wait to get his hands on you and get his own back.

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marveldcmistress · 17 days ago

Text

The Arrangement - Part 7

Summary: Jake's done a lot of things to keep his sister, and then his niece, safe from his parent's influence and manipulation. If he wants to keep them safe, he has to marry you.

Warnings: Bad parents, Implied physical abuse. Let me know if I missed any!

Part 6 -- Part 8

Series Masterlist

Breakfast is a quiet affair. You're still trying to get your head around your strange husband. He feels like a walking contradiction. Angry, but apologetic and seemingly caring. You weren't too hurt to notice how strong his arms are as he moved you to the sink. He looked so stern and serious that, combined with the unexpected touch, you were certain he was going to lose his temper at you. Instead, he apologized.

"This food is so good," Jake comments. You realize he's already eaten most of his plate! "You're such a good cook. Where'd you learn how?"

You flinch a little at the question. "You're going to think I'm a horrible person," you preface. "The kitchen was one of the few rooms in the house my family never went to so I asked some of the staff to teach me cooking so I'd have an excuse to stay in there." You stop eating, waiting for him to tell you how horribly ungrateful you are to your family.

"That's smart," Jake nods. You look up at him, but he seems sincere. "What? You needed to get away from time to time and, while you could have just said you were managing the kitchen, you instead take the opportunity to learn a skill. Plus, that way you never have to rely on someone else to cook for you. Very smart."

"Oh, um...thank you," you sputter as you get back to eating.

"I'm guessing that's why you went to college? Like me in the military it was a good reason to get away?"

You nod and gather your courage before answering, "I even specialized in shark conservation so I'd have an excuse to be out in the middle of the ocean. Away from anything and everything resembling wi-fi or phone networks."

He chuckles, "I had similar scenarios, but in the middle of jungles. All I'd have is a sat phone or something that would only occasionally work." He pauses to take a few more bites. "Honestly, I think one of the reasons I went into Coms and Tech is so I could learn to detect if my phone was bugged by my parents."

Both of you go quiet again for a bit, alternating between bites of food and sips of coffee.

"Um," you start, "would, can I ask..."

"Feel free to ask me anything," Jake assures.

"Do you have any food preferences I should know about? Things to avoid? Things you're allergic to?"

Jake smiles, "no allergies, as far as I know. And I am, by no means, a picky eater. You cook, I eat, simple as that."

"Okay, um, what's, what's your favorite food?"

He thinks for a minute. "Honestly, I'm a sucker for a good cheeseburger. I know, I'm pretty basic like that."

"It's a comfort food?"

He takes a breath, "maybe. Growing up, my parents had almost complete control over my diet. In high school, me and a couple friends would sneak out for lunch and hit up the burger place down the street. It was the closest I had to rebellion."

Your eyes go wide. "That's...I never could!"

"It was definitely stupid," Jake agrees. "I'm not sure what would've happened if we got caught, but we needed some way to act out. I didn't want to become a bully, I didn't have sports as an outlet, so I needed something else."

Silence falls over the two of you again for a bit.

"I hope you don't mind me asking," Jake starts. "Why sharks?"

"They have such a horribly undeserved reputation," you begin. "So much so that they're over-fished and almost no one cares. They get mutilated for a delicacy and they did nothing wrong! They're incredibly important to the ocean's ecosystem but because of some stupid movie series no one bats an eye when they get hunted to extinction. It's just...not fair!" Your emotions start catching up with you so you so talking for fear of being taunted and sneered at for being "too sensitive".

"You're really sweet," Jake says, his voice barely above a whisper. "Have you been able to do any conservation things since graduating? Like a fundraiser or something?"

You hang your head in embarrassment. "Mother and Father would never allow it. Said they didn't want the family name associated with cold blooded creatures for fear of the comparisons the press would make."

"That's bullshit," Jake softly exclaims. "You can't even make an anonymous donation or something?"

You bite your lip, trying to gauge how much you can trust him.

Jake sees your reaction, "have you already been? Going behind your parents' back?" You stay silent. "If so, I seriously congratulate you! That's dedication to your cause and a sign of how strong you really are."

You're glad you're keeping your head down so he can't see the shock on your face. You really do hope he's sincere. That he can be trusted.

After a bit more silence Jake starts grabbing up the plates. "Guess I should keep my end of the deal and get to work on the dishes. Thanks, again for the delicious breakfast."

"It's not a problem," you whisper, fighting the urge to clean up for yourself.

At that moment you hear the door to the penthouse open and Jake's father loudly proclaiming, "we're here!"

Part 6 -- Part 8

Series Masterlis

Tagging: @alicedopey; @ashdoctor; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn;

@icefrozendeadlyqueen; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly

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