#Restricted Canines

[pvmpkinzz]

i'm a like a dog if a dog could not eat fuckin ANYTHING

[sympatheticfiend]

i drink a sip of red wine and boom there‘s the enormity of my longing that disgusts me

[velvetcrimsonkisses]

Spank me, Slap me, Choke me, Bite me

(Gojo, Geto, Toji, Nanami, Choso, Sukuna)

Gojo Satoru

As much as Gojo loved trying different sex positions. You always ended sex in missionary. He loves to have you stuck under him, not able to move because he’s pressing all his body weight onto you. He loves to watch your cute face as he’s deep inside you. He loves to hear all the sounds you make that bless his ears. He loves to caress your soft and silky skin, especially from your neck to your chest. He loves to bite. 

His hands travel down to grip your waist as he looks down at you with a smirk. Blue eyes sparkling with lust for you. “You look so good…” He buries his face in the crook of your neck. “And you smell so good…” 

“Toru…” you cry out. Your arms and legs wrapped around him, his hips snapping forwards as he sinks himself deeper into you, grazing your cervix with every single thrust. His tongue traces a path down to the top of your breast. “I’m almost there,” you utter into his ear. 

You suddenly feel sharp canines bite deep into your warm flesh. The pain and pleasure from your orgasm merge together deliciously as you come undone. A string of “I'm sorrys” and “I love you’s” leave Satoru’s lips like a chant as he fills you with his cum once again. The bite mark he left on your body to be forgotten until morning when you scold him even though you know he will do it again and again. 

Geto Suguru

Saying Geto loved your ass was an understatement. He worshipped it. Spanking your ass wasn’t anything new to him or you but his favorite time to do it was when he puts you in reverse cowgirl in front of a mirror. Making you watch as he fucks his hips into you tantalizingly, as he watches your face contort into the most fucked out expressions. One strong hand on your body for support and the other on the plump of your ass.

Smack

His hand lands on you with a delicious sting that sends a shockwave through your body causing you to let out a desperate whine. His body reacts to the sweet noises escaping your lips as he grabs your hips harshly, thrusting deeply into you. 

“You like that? Look at yourself, pretty girl.” he grunts, a free hand coming around your body to grope your tits. “You like when I spank you, don’t you baby? 

He never failed to turn you into a mess when you were on his cock. You could only give him a small nod before another heavy spank landed on the other cheek. His thrusts become more erratic as the hand from your tits falls down to your clit, rubbing as he keeps fucking you. 

“Cum for me princess…” 

Toji Fushiguro

Toji loved having you in a prone bone. He was able to feel the recoil of your ass against him as he slammed himself into you but still keeping the intimacy between you as he places soft kisses on your shoulder and praises you for how good you are taking his cock. He leans down to press his forehead against the back of your neck, his breath hot and heavy in your ear. 

“Fuck… this pussy feels so good,” Toji grunts as he keeps up the pace in his thrust, determined to make you cum. “You feel so fucking good around my cock.” 

Toji’s pace quickens as he feels you react to his words, your walls clenching tight around him. “Good girl,” he huffs with a deep rasp in his voice, his hand coming around to wrap around your neck. His hand tightens around your throat, restricting your airflow just enough to give you a rush of pleasure and help you reach your high. It took you a bit to realize he was choking you. 

“Such a good girl, can you cream around my cock f’me?” He teases you, knowing you can’t answer him but, oh did he know you would. His hips begin slamming into you with more force. As you feel your nth orgasm of the night build up inside you, Toji follows you over the edge. Thrusts slowing down into you as he spills his seed inside. Slowly he pulls out of you, once again placing soft kisses upon your body. 

Nanami Kento

Nanami liked when you would bring up new things to try in the bedroom. He lived to please you and if you liked something, he did too. So when you suggested he should spank you, he couldn’t deny you. Especially when you looked so pretty bent over his lap, in the prettiest lingerie and your ass all perked for him. 

“Are you sure about this?” He questions, running a hand over your ass. “What if I hurt you?”

“I’m so sure Ken… please,” you pout. 

“Okay” His hand comes up and lands softly on your ass. 

“Ken, like you mean-” 

Spank 

Before you can even finish your sentence. His hand lands harshly on your ass. So much harder than the first time, it shut you up real quick. “Like that, honey?” he asks you a hint of cockiness behind his voice. It took him a while to build the confidence to do it without you asking but, once he understood how much you loved it. He couldn’t stop and you didn’t want him to. 

Choso Kamo

If Choso could, he’d choose to die between your legs. The man loved your pussy. His pupils dilate at just the sight of you naked on his bed, spreading your legs open for him. Falling to his knees in front you, eyes like a predator hunting his prey, already salivating his meal. He gently gropes your thighs, his tongue begins lapping at your wet cunt. Desperates to taste every inch of it but, lately Choso had a knack for biting. 

It started off as innocent little nibbles to the side of your thighs but, soon enough his teeth grazed over your clit and he would slightly tug it. A sharp whine leaves your lips. 

“Did that hurt?” he coos. One look at that man and you could tell he was pussy drunk and you did not have it in your heart to tell him he couldn’t bite your clit. It didn't even hurt that bad anyways. Choso was always so gentle. 

“No baby… keep going” 

And he did. And he loves it. Decorating your thighs with bite marks, gnawing and pulling on your clit. He was so proud of himself for finding he could use his teeth to please you as well and your moans were only more encouraging for him. 

Sukuna

If Sukuna really wanted to hurt you, you’d be dead. You’ve seen how he tortures and kills other people with moving a muscle. So when Sukuna would slap you during sex you knew it was because he loved the way you made him feel. He didn’t know how to express himself any other way. And god, he loves that smirk you’d give him after he did slap you. 

“Yeah you like that brat?” He holds your chin in place so you can look at him, sharp nails digging into your skin as he allows your legs to come down from the mating press he had you in. 

Another slap lands on your face before he dips his head down to kiss you. His way of soothing the pain with pleasure.  He quickly picks up his pace again mercilessly fucking it you. He feels so good that tears start to build up around your eyes. 

“Such a curious little creature… you like when I slap you but then you cry?” Sukuna boasts as he punctates his words with rough thrusts. “N-no,” you whine. 

“Or is it because my cock makes you feel so good?” He whispers into your ear, his tongue lapping up the tear that threatened to fall down your face. It was about to be another long night. 

[m00ntunaart]

2nd STARWARS/DAEMON AU POST!!!!! This time with the CC's and the Disaster Lineage!

Obi-Wan: Maned Wolf (Kee-Ayt)

Anakin: Lion (maned female lioness) (Asieko)

Ahsoka: Gryfalcon (Tuex)

Cody: German Shepherd (Beskar)

Rex: Siberian Husky (Queen)

Wolffe: Wolfdog (Whitefang)

Fox: Doberman Pinscher (Vulpe)

Bly: American Akita (Lyra)

LORE TIME: first off! Jedi! So I thought a lot about how daemons and Jedi should work. I did end up deciding that Jedi GENERALLY have bird daemons (like the witches in His Dark Material), BUT not always. The Jedi having bird daemons is not a ‘All Force Sensitives Have Daemons Who Settle As Birds’ thing. It wouldn’t make sense in this AU since Force-sensitivity is a spectrum and at what level would someone have ‘enough’ force-sensitivity to have a daemon for certain become a bird? I didn’t like that narrative as much, it felt restrictive. So instead Jedi tend to have bird daemons, but not Force-Sensitives. Like all Jedi are force sensitive ( and have bird daemons) but not all Force-Sensitives are Jedi, make sense? This is because of how the Jedi raise children and teach them to interact with the force. Because of how Jedi are taught to view and use the force, their daemons tend to settle as birds! It’s ‘nurture’ over ‘nature’ thing. Which is why (in this AU at least) the Jedi don’t take in older children to train. Because they’ve already probably learned their own way to interact with the force (different from the Jedi teachings) and therefore will have a non-bird daemon! Hence Anakin having a lion daemon. “But what about Obi-Wan?” (Well since Obi-Wan is one of my favorites I get to spice him up lol). He was originally very Jedi like (daemon wise) but after the whole Jedi Apprentice/Xanantos enslaving him/Melida-Daan war thing, he daemon ended up settling as a Maned Wolf! I imagine he was just about the age where his daemon would settle (usually 13-15, which is the same reason this is the age Jedi initiates are made padawans), so it was a surprise that his daemon so abruptly changed and settled. Most likely the effects of being so abruptly exposed to violence and war right out of being only use to the peace of the Jedi temple his whole life. 

(Extra) The 3rd page of the post! Cody and Obi-Wan’s daemons! Beskar and Kee-Ayt! Even though in my doodles Beskar seems to be very grumpy and even hatful towards Kee-Ayt, DO NOT BE FOOLED. Beskar adores Kee-Ayt. Their relationship just mirrors how I headcanon Cody’s and Obi-Wan’s. Where they will harass and bitch at each other to hell and back. Sounding from the outsider’s POV like two people who hate each other. When in reality these two are joined at the hip and love each other. They just will never admit it because “we have reputations to uphold!’ (Anakin says “what reputation? the reputation that one of you would murder the other if it wasn’t for the fact the GAR would court marshal the other?”) But yeah, Beskar makes fun of Kee-Ayt’s long ass legs. The mini ‘comic’ is about how I imagine that since all the Clones’ daemons are dogs/canines, when they win a battles they have a ‘Victory Call’ where they all howl. Beskar offers for Kee-Ayt to join in, but Maned Wolves can’t howl. They do this thing called a Roar-Bark (look up a video it’s so loud). This is the first time Beskar hears Kee-Ayt roar-bark and it scared the shit out of her.

(Extra Extra) The 4th page of the post! This is mostly doodles of Rex, Anakin and Ashoka’s daemons (Queen, Asieko and Tuex). All three reflect the close relationship that Rex, Anakin and Ahsoka have. Hence Tuex nesting on Queen and Asieko trying to groom Queen (who doesn’t appreciate the rough lion tongue bath she’s getting). (In fact Asieko tries to groom Tuex and Kee-Ayt too, but Tuex is too small and Kee-Ayt just starts biting Asieko bcs she doesn’t appreciate the bath either lol). We also have Tuex dive bombing Asieko (a common occurrence whenever Anakin and Ahsoka bicker). Tuex also does this to literally anyone who slightly annoys him or Ahsoka. And lastly the little doodle of Rex and Queen screaming! Idk if you’ve ever seen videos of Huskies, but oh boy are they loud and dramatic. I think with all the stress and insanity Rex has to deal with leading the 501st, he and Queen often have therapy screaming sessions. They deserve to. 

(ALSO, I will be making follow up reblogs with lore/plot stuff for each individual character)

[darkromanceenthusiast]

Okay so I was gonna ask about a MM fic but I saw you do werewolves….

Maybe a witch is doing a ritual under the full moon in the forest? Maybe it feels so good that the werewolf just needs to keep fucking you…

I’m an extremely shy person and have no idea on how to request but I just have a BIG thing for werewolves so pretty please

Absolutely!

M!werewolf x human!witch!reader

Warnings: Smut, dirty talk, reader is AFAB, Cunnilingus, degradation and praise, breeding kink, reader is very okay with it, but still dub/non-con, cursing, kidnapping, not proof read

This was not, how you were expecting this night to go, face down ass up in the dirt as the panting werewolf man above you tried his best to move your restrictive clothing, one large hairy paw-hand keeping you still. The full moon was high above you and you could see your crystals and herbs for your ritual spilled before you.

“You’re practically begging for it, you know? Pretty little thing like you coming into the woods as if you’re not going to get fucked.” The werewolf says, your attention snapping back to him, he must have had enough of the struggle game because he finally ripped everything from the waist down off, you feel a rush of cold air and shiver, feeling your nipples harden a bit as your blood rushes through your veins in a perverse mix of fear and arousal, the smell making him groan as he nudges his face forward, taking a deep whiff of your cunt and letting out a growl that went straight to your core. You’re not…. Into this… are you? No absolutely not! You’re just frustrated… it’s just been a while since-

A gasp is pulled from your lips as you feel his warm, rough tongue lap at your folds, you can feel the small puffs of hot air coming from his nose as he laps at you, a few whines escaping him.

“You just keep getting wetter and wetter, do you like this, having your gorgeous pussy eaten by me?” He asked tauntingly, he knew you wouldn’t answer but he didn’t care, you didn’t know it yet but you would he his mate, his pretty little witch. He gives another long lap before finally plunging his tongue in your hole, swirling around and making you moan softly, embarrassment flooding you, his tongue was bigger and thicker than any human man’s tongue after a while he pulls back from your cunt with a squelch and gives a deep chuckle as he grabs your hips tighter and forces you on your back so you’re looking up at him, he smiles down at you, sharp canines glistening in his half wolf-half man form.

“Fuckin hell, princess, I can’t wait to give you my knot… I bet you’ll take it so well, huh?” He growls and you nod slowly, he raises an eyebrow before he leans down, licking your neck softly as he inhaled your scent before finally ripping your top off, he wastes no time running his tongue all over your nipples, letting out soft pants and whines as he did, it wasn’t long until you felt his cock poking at your entrance before he ran it through your folds a few times, growling as he did,

“Fuck I’m not even inside ya yet and you feel amazing.” He huffs out, your face flooding red as he spits on his cock and pushes the tip to your entrance, you can feel his large, hairy paw like hands pressing right above your womb as he enters you, the sensation of being filled and the pressure causing your breath to hitch a bit, he moved his thumb down and made lazy circles on your clit, mumbling curses and praise under his breath. You could feel his dick twitching and throbbing inside you, begging for some friction. You gave your hips a small roll and he snapped, growling as his hand flew to your throat, pining you as his other hand lifted your hips and began to pound you.

“I was gonna be gentle… but if you want to act like a whore I’ll fuck you like one.” He says but you don’t entirely hear him you’re too focused on the feelings. Him filling you, cock pressing against your cervix with every thrust, his thumb tracing your clit, and his hand wrapped firmly around your throat making everything feel more intense. Finally he pulls his hand off your throat, air flooding your lungs as you cough and sputter a bit making him laugh, you feel a dizzy rush and stare at the spinning wolf man above you, feeling a familiar tug building in your stomach. You’re so close already, he’s filling you in ways you didn’t think could happen.

“God fucking damnit,” he says as his claws dig into your hips a bit, “You feel so good… look at you taking me so well.” He says, gripping the back of your thighs and pushing them back, giving you the perfect view of his cock stretching you out, you can already see it beginning to swell at the base and you bite your lip, he rubs your clit a bit faster and the tension finally snaps, your orgasm running through your body as he continued to pound you, you hear him growl as you tighten around him, after a few seconds you feel his knot pressing against you.

“C’mon… take my knot, little witch, take my pups.” He growls into your ear, still pounding your sensitive and overworked cunt, you felt your eyes roll back as his knot popped in, stretching you impossibly full before he finally gave one last thrust, filling you with his first load of the night.

“Fuck, fuck yes, little mate… you did so good… such a good girl.” He says, his tongue lapping at your back as he wraps his arms around you.

“We’ll be stuck with you on my cock for a bit, pretty girl.” He says, standing up as he used his hands under your ass to keep you balanced and close to him, now that he quite literally had you trapped on his cock you couldn’t run as he took you to a small cabin, you doubt you’d be let to leave anytime soon though.

[a-leg-without-fear]

Strange Love

i am so fucking obsessed with this man it ain't even FUNNY. oh btw here's some filth

Ship: Logan Howlett x Mutant!Fem!Reader 🩸

Rating: 18+ (i need jesus)

Wordcount: 4.5k

Warnings: smut, foreplay, mentions of PTSD, bloodplay, PnV sex, oral (fem!receiving), fingering, logan's teeth, choking, knifeplay, slight voyeurism if you squint seriously this is so dirty i NEED jesus

Song: Strange Love by Halsey

It wasn’t the tossing and turning that woke you. It wasn’t the occasional movement of his hands, the pushing into your side, the sheets being tugged off your body. You had grown accustomed to the flinches and twitches. Those things were typical when sharing a bed with someone. 

It was his breathing. Short, quick, ragged. Like a band of iron was squeezing his chest and restricting his lungs.

Your eyes snapped open and flicked to Logan. He was covered in sweat, beads dripping down his forehead plastered in drenched hair. His teeth were bared, grinding. Sharp canines digging into his bottom lip and splitting the skin before the wounds would seal themselves. Fists clenched in the damp sheets, claws just barely poking out of between his knuckles, fingers squeezing the cotton between them.

Right, a nightmare. He was having a nightmare.

These were a nightly occurrence for him. Logan’s past would dredge itself up in his sleep and torture him for hour upon sleepless hour. Raking his mind through the coals only for him to wake up and not remember a thing. 

It was risky to wake him like this. Once, Marie had tried to get him to wake up only for Logan’s adamantium claws to end up pierced in her stomach. She was fine, having briefly absorbed Logan’s healing ability and allowed herself to live.

That wasn’t a risk you could take. You had a minor amount of healing your body was capable of. Smaller cuts and bruises were your specialty. You could manipulate the rate at which blood flowed and carried the necessary chemicals in order to seal wounds and reverse bruising. Foot-long claws stabbed into your abdomen weren’t something you could easily fix.

You cleared your throat, shifting to the side of the bed opposite him, and said, “Logan?”

No response. He continued to breathe heavily, eyes darting back and forth beneath his furrowed brow. You sat up, determined to end this round of nightly torment. 

“Logan? Hun, wake up,” you said, louder than the previous attempt. A string of incoherent mumbles escaped between his clenched teeth. You sighed and climbed out of bed. Turning to face him and crossing your arms, you braced yourself and yelled, “Logan!”

His hazel eyes flew open as he jolted up, claws shooting out and chest heaving. Silver light glinted off the six razor sharp claws jutting out of his fists. The sheets bunched around his bare waist, his pillow falling off the bed and onto the floor.

“Logan?” you asked, as quiet and calming as possible. Logan’s gaze shifted to you from darting wildly around the room. As soon as his eyes met yours, the claws retreated back beneath his flushed and clammy skin.

He swallowed with difficulty as his mind registered who you were. You could practically see the gears turning beneath his soaked, dark hair.

“Logan? It’s me,” you said. Logan squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed at his eyelids.

“Shit, I’m sorry, doll. Did I wake you?” he grunted. He leaned back on one arm as he smoothed his hair away from his face. It was hard to prevent your gaze from wandering. A toned, tanned chest peppered in dark chest hair melting into defined abs with a trail of dark hair leading beneath the sheets. It took a lot of willpower to look back at Logan’s face.

“Eh, I’m used to it,” you replied, an easy smile falling across your lips. You kneeled back on the bed and ran a comforting hand along his shoulder. His gaze fell to your hand then met your eyes again. 

“It’s not the best thing to get used to,” he said. You could feel the muscles in his shoulder tensing under your palm. A frown stretched across his face, “I shouldn’t be wakin’ you every night.”

“It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make,” you said softly. You lifted your free hand and smoothed out the wrinkles created by his furrowed eyebrows. Logan smacked your hand away as you laughed.

“Seriously. I could hurt you,” he insisted. To emphasize his point, a single claw extended from his right hand, opposite of the side closest to you. He lifted the metal beside his face and said, “When I sleep, I ain’t in control of these things. I… I can’t lose you.”

You raised your hand, running your fingertips across Logan’s arm, before taking his fist in yours. He allowed the action, keeping the claw extended. You moved his hand closer to your face.

“What’re you doin’?” he asked, tugging his hand out of yours. The silver claw retracted back between his knuckles. You sighed while climbing into his lap, straddling his hips with your thighs. You grabbed the same hand again.

“Do you trust me?” you asked. Logan’s glare searched for some kind of trick or fear hiding behind your amused expression.

“Of course I do,” he replied, albeit a little apprehensive. You placed a chaste kiss to his middle-finger knuckle.

“Then extend your claw, handsome,” you breathed into his skin.

Logan’s shoulders shuddered, his eyes falling closed as a strained breath floated from his lips. The hand you had stroking along his neck shifted to bury its fingers in his hair. His back arched, his bare chest meeting your sleep shirt.

“Vampire-”

“Extend your claw. I’ll prove that you’ll never hurt me,” you whispered. Your lips trailed across his knuckles while your fingers tangled in the soft strands at the base of his neck. A quiet groan bounced around inside Logan’s chest.

Slowly, reluctantly, his middle adamantium claw slid out of his fist. Moonlight danced along the sharp edge and gave the claw an almost ethereal glow. You turned Logan’s hand, inspecting the claw at all angles, enjoying the reflections it projected on the walls.

“Do you trust me?” you said, repeating yourself. You needed absolute clarity before continuing. Logan nodded as another shudder worked its way over his chest. You ran your eyes over his expression. His eyes were closed, tense, his lips parted slightly. The hand you had in his hair rested on his jaw, fingers buried in his short beard, thumb tracing his bottom lip, “Yes or no, Logan.”

“Yes. Yes, doll, I do,” he replied.

With the affirmation you needed, you shifted your focus back to the threatening claw in front of you. You considered it for a moment. The length, the width, the sharp edge. Squaring your shoulders and steeling your nerves, you brought his hand closer to your face as you parted your lips. 

You ran the blade along the center of your tongue. The bite of cold metal pierced your flesh and stung as it slid along the muscle. You felt blood pool in your mouth, leaking out of the corners of your lips and down your chin.

Logan’s eyes popped open when the scent of your blood filled his nose. He yanked his fist away as his claw disappeared. Both of his palms clung to the sides of your face. You kept your mouth open, smiling, cradling the pooling blood on your tongue.

“What the shit? The hell’s wrong with you, vampire?” Logan exclaimed. Your smile held steady as his expression grew frantic. You watched Logan’s face closely as you enacted your plan. 

Your blood began to float out of your mouth in small beads, tiny planets chasing each other, flying from your tongue and into the air around you, forming a ring circling your head. Once you’d cleared most of the blood, you focused on closing the wound. You felt the flesh knit itself back together inch by inch, wound stitching itself closed. When the last bit of leaking blood had exited your mouth, your tongue fully healed, you closed your smile and let the droplets orbit your head.

“You won’t hurt me, Logan. No more than others have in the past,” you said. Logan’s expression remained unchanged, still eyeing you like you were fucking insane, hands clutched to both sides of your face. You stuck your tongue out again. “See? No harm done.”

“You… You can heal?” he asked. His thumb glided across your face to run along your bottom lip. You let your mouth fall open so he could see the absence of blood. He scoffed, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s not nearly as strong as yours. I can heal surface level stuff on anyone, not just me. Blood manipulation and all,” you explained. A fond smile remained settled across your face. You willed the blood floating around you to soar through the air in a stream, like crimson ribbons braiding and weaving into each other, before directing it into an empty glass on the nightstand.

Logan looked like you had told him the wildest theory about the moon landing imaginable. Eyebrows raised to his widow’s peak, nose scrunched, lips parted, eyes wide. It would have been amusing, laughable even, if it wasn’t such a tense moment.

Without warning his mouth was on yours, fingers tangled in your hair, arms shoving your chest against his. His hips rocked up against yours and you felt just how hard this conversation had made him. You gasped into his mouth when he tugged at the base of your neck.

“All this time,” he murmured. One of his hands left your hair and tugged up the hem of your t-shirt. His teeth trailed from your lips, to your jaw, to the soft skin at the crook of your neck, “All this fuckin’ time. I was worried I’d hurt you. That I’d wake up and skewer you like I did Rogue.”

A choked moan escaped your lips when his hand squeezed at your breast. Rough and calloused and almost mean. Logan’s sharp canines nicked the skin above the artery that ran beneath your ear. You whined as blood leaked from the new wound.

“But you? You’re just full of fucking surprises, aren’t you?” he said. He licked a broad swipe across the blood streaming down your throat. You ground down into his cock, the heat between your thighs seeking as much friction as possible. Both of you moaned as the deep liquid coated Logan’s mouth. 

“We’ve got-shit, plenty of time to find them all,” you said through a breathless grin. The fingers in your hair tightened and tugged your head back, baring your throat as Logan lapped at your neck, staining it red. 

You continued to grind into him while your hands gripped his forearms. Your nails dug into his skin, pinpricks of red sprouting around the crescent shapes. You brought a finger up to your mouth and licked along the tip of the nail. An explosion of copper coated your freshly healed tongue. A taste like none you’d ever had before, like a long-aged wine that’d just been opened. 

You needed to have more.

The knife you kept on your nightstand, the pommel a glass ball filled with your blood, swished through the air and landed in your open palm. Your other hand carded through Logan’s hair in an attempt to get his attention.

“Can I cut you?” you breathed. A feral grin spread across Logan’s face. His claw shinked back out of his fist and slashed down your shirt. The cotton separated like butter under a hot knife, your shirt sagging down your shoulders and falling away from your chest. A thin cut was left between your breasts. Like a red clay path between two rolling hills. 

“As long as I can cut you,” he replied, tongue tracing the new wound. Your head fell back as you arched into his mouth, doing your best to focus on closing the bite in your neck. Getting the skin to connect was growing more difficult as Logan coated his tongue in red and his half-lidded eyes met yours.

“Fuck, okay, I’ll take that as a yes,” you said through gritted teeth. You shrugged off your destroyed t-shirt as you felt the cut on your neck close. Your left hand tugged at Logan’s hair, bringing his lips back to yours, bare chests colliding. 

The air between you grew heated and humid. Teeth clashed, tongues darted into each other’s mouths tasting of copper and sin, claws and nails and blade slicing through skin, fingers pulling on hair. Each wound that closed was replaced with a fresh one, tongue and lips following the lines of leaking blood. If you were normal both of you would be covered in more scars than one could count. But, because you were mutants, the skin sealed as if nothing had ever pierced it. Smooth and soft and absolutely covered in blood.

You felt the room spin as you and Logan flipped. He had one hand on your shoulder, pinning your torso to the bed, while the other wrapped around your throat. His broad, warm hand nearly encompassed your whole neck. The power he held over you stoked the flames in your abdomen to burn away at your sense and reason.

His mouth was back on yours, drinking from you like a dying man. Teeth nipped at your lips, your tongue, your chin. Sharp bites that left the taste of copper in their wake. The hand on your shoulder traveled down your overheated body. Passing over swathes of skin painted red and bruises long since dissipated. His fingertips brushed along the waistband of your shorts and a growl reverberated from his throat.

“You have three seconds to get these off before they’re ripped off,” Logan said, the words echoing in your mind like a prayer in an empty chapel.

You had never stripped yourself so fast in your life. Your fumbling hands slipped beneath your waistband, having to concentrate on both getting naked and Logan’s mouth on yours, and you slipped both your panties and your shorts off in one pull. You kicked them off the bed in record time.

“Mm, that was five seconds. I’ll need to see to that later,” he said, kissing down your jaw between growled words. A shiver rolled across your spine at the way his voice thrummed against your neck. You felt the hand gripping your throat tighten, restricting your breathing, making you gasp. Your hands launched forward, seeking anything to grab in their path, landing on the forearm choking you. Logan nipped your collarbone as he said, “Don’t be surprised to see those shorts in shreds tomorrow.”

He loosened his grip slightly, letting warm air back into your heaving lungs. You felt your pulse rushing in your ears.

“Logan, please,” you whimpered. The heat between your legs was unbearable. Wave after wave of arousal slammed into your trembling body and left you breathless. Your thighs were definitely soaked. You could feel wetness dripping off your skin and onto the sheets below you. Logan bit harder at your lowest rib, making you cry out, “Please! I need you. Please, Logan.”

“I’ve got you, hotstuff. Don’t worry,” he purred. His canines dragged along your stomach, leaving fire in their wake, as he shifted lower on your body. The hand gripping your throat slid down your chest and pinned your hips in place, arm slung across your stomach like a lead pipe. His free hand massaged and groped at your shaking thighs. He looked up at you through his eyelashes, grinning, “So polite, how can I refuse?”

The first pass of his tongue through your cunt made your back bow off the bed. Your hands scrabbled against the soaked sheets, nonsense and cries of ecstasy escaping through your kiss-swollen lips.

A low groan passed through his throat and vibrated against your clit. Your eyes rolled back in your head at the shocks of pure pleasure zipping through your bloodstream.

“Fuck, sugar. All this just for me, huh?” he murmured. You weren’t entirely sure if it was meant for you, but before you could decide he buried his face in your cunt. Tongue spearing inside you, nose bumping against your clit, large fingers holding you open. The air inside your lungs shot out of you like a bullet. 

If your mind had any sense left, the sounds you and Logan were making would’ve been obscene. The wet squelching of him licking at your folds, his rough grunts, your breathless moans and airy whimpers. It would’ve made you embarrassed to ever show your face outside of this room again. But with Logan between your thighs and his arm braced across your abdomen, you could hardly care. 

He shifted so his lips could wrap around your clit, sucking and running the blunt edge of his teeth over where you’re most sensitive. A startled yelp kicked out of your mouth. Your hands flew to his hair and tangled in the damp strands. You felt his fingers run along your entrance, gathering slick along the calloused pads.

“You want me inside you, doll?” he asked huskily, sounding almost as wrecked as you felt. It took all your willpower to lift your eyelids and meet Logan’s eyes. 

“Please. Please, please, I need you Logan,” you slurred. Your grip on his hair tightened in an attempt to emphasize your point. 

He latched back onto your clit, eyes still locked with yours, as two fingers pushed inside you. The digits entered you with almost no resistance, you were so soaked. A loud moan fell from your lips as the accompanying noise from your cunt made you feel fucking filthy.

“Fuck, doll,” he grunted against your clit. He started pumping his fingers inside you, slow at first, letting you feel every ridge and knuckle glide in and out, making sure to brush against that spot inside you that made you see stars every time. Your thighs involuntarily clenched around his head. Your head flew back against the mattress beneath you, breath leaving your gaped mouth in quick bursts.

When his pace increased, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer. That coil in your core was tightening at a speed that even Peter couldn’t compete with. Your fingers scraped at Logan’s scalp, breathing seeming to be a thing of the past.

“Come for me, vampire,” he said, slipping a third finger inside you. The claws attached to the arm across your waist extended, piercing into the mattress and securing you further on the bed. If Logan wasn’t who he was, you’d be afraid of hurting him from how tight your thighs were squeezed around his head. But that chrome dome was nowhere near perturbed as he shoved you into your first orgasm of the night.

Sparks of white hot electricity short-circuited your brain and rendered you breathless. Your back seized up and arched off the bed, mouth flying open, breath halted inside frozen lungs. Pulsing, neverending, world-encompassing pleasure covered you like a thick, electrified blanket. Zaps of shityesgood sparked across your skin, burrowing deep into your flesh and filling your veins.

“There ya go, that’s a good girl,” Logan said. You barely registered him, the roaring in your ears was so loud. He continued to finger you through your orgasm, placing the occasional kiss on your hyper-sensitive skin, making you jolt.

It took several minutes for the aftershocks to stop, for the blanket to lift off your body. Logan slid his fingers out of you and brought them to his lips. Low groans brought you back to reality as he licked your slick off his fingers.

His claws retracted as he climbed back up your body, placing sloppy wet kisses as he went. You hummed when his lips found yours. You could taste yourself on his tongue, tangy and salty and distinctly you. Mixed with Logan’s smoke and whiskey, you felt like you could breathe this taste and grow intoxicated. You whined as Logan pulled back.

“Ready for more?” he asked. You nodded, biting your lip as a smile graced your features.

Logan grinned back as he hiked your legs up onto his hips and positioned himself by your entrance, cock hard and heavy in his hand. Your hands laced in his hair and yanked his mouth back to yours. The wet, hot tip of his cock glided through your folds, making both of you groan into each other’s mouths.

The first push inside stretched you almost to the point of pain, but you were so wet and needy you hardly cared. Your breathing grew ragged, panting into Logan’s open mouth, as he slid inside you. Every vein along his cock dragged against your walls, making you whine and cant beneath him. 

When he was buried to the hilt inside you, hips connected with your thighs, he braced one hand above you while the other held your leg on his hip. It seemed to take all of his willpower to open his eyes and look down at you.

“Shit, you feel good. Doin’ alright?” he groaned. You nodded a frantic yes, gripping his hair tighter and touching his forehead to yours.

“Logan please fuck me, please, please,” you whispered. You were barely cognizant. Just a body made of an animalistic need. A pure, feral, unadulterated need that only Logan could satisfy.

Logan chuckled, “When you ask like that, doll, how could I say no?”

The slow drag out of you made you grieve the loss of feeling completely full. Your nails dug into Logan’s scalp as whiny moans passed through your clenched teeth. He whispered reassurance into your skin as he pushed back inside, a smooth glide all the way in. He tried to set a slow pace, tried to give you time to adjust. But the pleas spilling from your lips and the grip of your thighs around his hips gave him the last shove he needed.

Quick, wet slaps bounced around the room as he rammed into you, over and over and over again. Pounding into you so hard you swore you could feel him in your throat and that if you weren’t mutant, you would break. High moans met choked grunts in the air between you. The bed’s wooden headboard slammed into the wall behind you in pace with Logan’s thrusts. 

And just like that his teeth were on you again. Biting and scraping and marking, drawing blood just for it to disappear under his tongue. Your shoulders, your collarbone, your breasts, your neck. None were left unmarked. And they remained ravaged, your mind too fractured by his relentless fucking to focus on healing yourself. 

“Fuck, vampire,” he moaned against your skin. His eyes were glassy, distant. Like his entire mind was devoted to filling you to the brim over and over again. The hand braced above your head grabbed the back of your neck, lifting your head so his lips could crash into yours. You were a mess of teeth and tongues and blood. Mindless, breathless moans swallowed between you.

You could feel that coil again. It tightened tauntingly at each thrust, each pound into you that drove you further into insanity. Flames of pure need licked and burned along your skin, only satisfied when Logan was filling you to the brim. Jesus, if you couldn’t feel every thrust rattle your teeth and send you further into oblivion.

Logan adjusted above you, nearly folding you in half as both his hands landed next to you on the bed. Like this, every thrust hit that spot inside you. Splitting you open to leave nothing but a moaning mess behind. 

He groaned above you, teeth gritted, and his claws shot out of his fists. The sound of fabric tearing filled your roaring ears. Deep gauges left in the mattress on either side of your head. Threatening, terrifying even. But to your fuck-drunk mind it only turned you on more. The unquenchable furnace burning in your core flamed into a blazing inferno. Your fingers scraped along his skin, searching mindlessly for something to ground you.

Another groan from Logan, reverberating from deep in his chest, as his forehead touched yours again. A spot of gentleness in the undeniably brutal way he was fucking you.

“I’m-Fuck!-I’m getting real close, doll,” he grunted, his pace never slowing or lessening in its ferocity. He unburied his hand from the bed, retracting his claws, and lowered it between your bodies to rub circles into your swollen clit.

“Ah! Fuck, Logan!” you yelped. You could feel yourself hurtling toward your inescapable second orgasm. Your eyes, unfocused as they were, tried to zero in on Logan above you. You felt like you were caught beneath a launching rocket, being blasted by the flames from the metal beast above you.

One, two, three more thrusts and then you were gone. Ecstasy poured into your veins like ink in water, drowning all you were, all you knew, all you felt. Eyes clouding over with swirling spots of black and white, the inferno in your core overtaking you like a forest fire. All you were was burned away, flames inhaling your body and mind, until all that was left was a mewling, breathless, writhing person that didn’t feel like yourself. 

Logan wasn’t too far behind you. The relentless pounding inside you grew ragged, sloppy, his fingers tangling in your hair to let him breathe the same air as you. A sharp groan echoed from his chest as his thrusts stilled, spilling inside you. Hands gripped at the soft flesh on your hips, pinning you against him, prolonging his orgasm.

You felt weightless, like you were floating on the destroyed bed below you and the only thing keeping you grounded was Logan on top of you. Lazy, trembling fingers traced the veins on his forearms, still clutched to your sides. Your hazy vision focused on his face. Blissed out, eyes closed, chest heaving. You felt a lopsided grin stretch across your swollen lips.

“Told you, ya won’t hurt me,” you rasped. You must have screamed at some point, because your throat was scratchy and sore. Not that you minded.

Logan let out a breathless chuckle above you. His fingers massaged soothing circles into your hips as his eyes opened, gaze landing on your post-orgasmic smirk.

He cleared his throat then said, “You sure? I got pretty rough.”

Your eyes fell closed as you used the remaining fragments of your mind to close the wounds across your neck and chest, willing the skin to seal and the bruises to flush away. Once you were satisfied you opened your eyes again.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” you said, grinning. Logan shook his head, matching your grin, as he slid out of you. An involuntary whine slipped up your throat at the loss of him inside you. The loss was quickly remedied by him laying down beside you, wrapping you in his arms and tucking you against his chest. You settled in, nestling your cheek against his damp skin, while he hummed above you.

“I know you can, but I’m not so sure about the sheets.”

Embarrassment flooded your cheeks as you observed the carnage around you. The once (somewhat) pristine, light blue sheets were absolutely covered in blood, loose threads, and other results of what the two of you had just done. Not to mention the holes in the mattress that could no way in hell be fixed.

You let out a sigh as your hand covered your eyes, face flushed. Logan smirked and kissed the top of your head.

“We’ll get ‘em replaced, doll. Don’t worry about it,” he said, amusement at your situation laced in every word.

However, the two of you froze in response to the words that filled your heads, the disappointment palpable and tone icy.

“It’ll come out of your wallets.”

i'd like to thank @madschiavelique and @gracethyomen for encouraging my obsession with logan. much love to them both and the rest of the murdock tuna team 🐟

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[gamblersdoll]

𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐀 𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑, 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐘!

your best friends izuku and katsuki become vampires surprisingly, and they get their first feeding tonight.

pinning, biting, dry humping, blood mention, fingering. mention of safewords, watersports.

the night was cooler than the beaming summers that past for last couple of months. the breeze moving alongside your skin, growing goosebumps from the hair tickling along your skin.

but, tonight would be such a different night, beyond your recognition, because it was that time.

“fucking— stay still..” katsuki grumbled, your body writhing and wiggling in his hands. “i cant help you if youre squirming, dumbass!”

“cut her a break, kacchan.” izuku sighs, kissing your shoulders and holding your hands. “i promise it’ll be so quick, but.. it is getting so hard.” he chuckles, kissing your knuckles and breathing in your scent. “god, youve always smelt so good.”

“youre a fuckin’ creep, thats why.” katsuki deadpans, getting on the opposite side of izuku and looking to you, again. “im trying not to hurt ya.. i swear.”

“i know.. is it that bad for you both?”

“no more talking.” izuku grunts, tilting your head to the side and sinking his fangs into your neck. you squeal, squeezing both izuku and katsuki’s hand.

“you idiot— you should’ve went..” he stops himself, his nose picking up on your blood and looking back to you. his canines grow just a bit, moving your head to the side again and digging his teeth into the other side of your neck.

the red liquid pools inside of their mouths, a moan from both of them as they hold you down on the bed. “you idiots.. shouldve gave me a fuckin warning..” you choke out, adrenaline rushing through your body. you feel lightheaded, your eyes drifting and closing every here and there.

izuku watches your eyes, pulling his teeth out and pressing his fingers on your throat. “ill be right back! youre going to be okay.” he yelps, grabbing the grape juice from the mini fridge and tilting you up. “just drink..”

you eagerly drink the tart liquid, hearing it was great for reproducing blood cells and katsuki hasnt let up yet. “kats..”

his hand grips your thigh, izuku growing red in the face and watching the way the purple juice trickles down your neck. he goes back in, licking your neck from the blood residue and grape juice. “taste so good..”

“can’t believe you taste this good..” katsuki mumbles, izuku becoming hit with the blood-lust from drinking you up. “that nerd is probably getting it too..” katsuki pulls away, squeezing your cheeks together and watching your eyes cross a bit. “the fuck— you enjoy this shit?”

you nod slightly, izuku’s weight restricting you from movements and katsuki shakes his head. “needy little shit.” katsuki groans, a hand strategically unbuttoning your shirt and taking a breast into his hand. “yer not gunna scream if i bite into your tit, are ya?”

“lets.. find out then, give me your best.” you challenge, his eyebrow quirks up and he bares his fangs in a grin. you squeeze izuku’s hand as he sinks his fangs into your breast. you moan softly, feeling izuku’s hardened cock through his pants bump and grind into your left thigh. “izu..”

“sorry.. feels so good, dont know whats wrong wif’ me.” he mumbles, teeth still in his mouth as he grinds his cock into a soft spot of your thigh.

katsuki— surprisingly, grinds his cock harder into your thigh as well. he grunts when he does, licking the dripping blood from your breast and he slips his fingers under your panties. “safeword.”

“pineapple juice.” you quickly say, pressing your fingers down on his and grind against his palm. “dont take all night.”

“eager bitch arent ya’?” he chuckles muffled, plunging his fingers into your gooey spot immediately, “bet you would just let anyone finger you.”

“yeah?— oh.. how did you figure that?” you struggle to argue, his fingers curling into that gummy spot that makes you shut your mouth immediately.

“considering two of your friends are sucking you dry, both of them pushing their cocks into your thighs, one fingerin’ ya..” he retorts, pulling his teeth out of your mound and going back to your shoulder. “can feel you clamping down on me..”

“guess yer’ right..”

izuku moans, his hips getting more relentless and fast. “sorry in advance..” he mumbles, still grinding his cock into your plump thighs and tweaking with your exposed nipple. he stills his body, a breathless whimper against your skin.

“already cummin?— oh, shit..” katsuki tries to say, but feels his own orgasm about to ripple through his body and thrusting his fingers faster. “shit, youre close, ain’cha?”

you nod, grinding your own hips on his fingers and he groans, the last few thrusts of his hips being shorter and his fingers continue on. “c’mon baby.. cum fer me..”

“uhm— nuh uh.” izuku shoots back, pushing his own fingers into your seeping cunt and you moan. “cum for me instead, my love.”

“hah? the fuck?” katsuki growls at him, thrusting his fingers at a different pace. “you cant just stuff her like that!”

“then pull out.” izuku challenges, curling his fingers up and you cross your eyes, toes curling and you try to close your thighs. “see? its too much for her, pull out!”

“first come, first served, dumbass!”

then, they both pause their movements and conversations, watching your cunny soak both pairs of hands and some of the comforter. their eyes widen, you becoming blissed out and hair sprawled out. they both sniff, the sweet smell coming from your folds and they look only at you.

“oh yeah, this night isnt going to end.”

[dimespin]

Saratoan Life Stages

The simple rule of thumb for guessing a Saratoan dragon's human-age is a kind of reverse dog years - divide their age by 2 and there you are. But as is the case with dog years, Saratoans develop on their own timeline.

They themselves understand their ages based on set of teeth, of which they can have a maximum of 7 across their lifetime.

First Teeth

The first set of teeth erupt shortly after the joey detaches from the mother's body about 6 months after the initial birth and arrival in the pouch. The joey is not yet old enough to permanently leave the pouch at 6 months but a few months later they will leave the pouch permanently and spend a few years clinging to their mother's back instead.

The development timeline for a joey has some similarities with human children (they start talking around the same time) and differences (they take their first wobbly steps as soon as they make their first venture out of the pouch around 6 months)

Compared to their extended lifespan these years are quite accelerated!

This set of teeth as well as the next lacks the pronounced canines the species is known for, very much looking like the teeth of what they are, an herbivore.

This set of teeth is shed at about age 6

Second Teeth

The next set of teeth are heavily associated with the age group called sub-adults, but they aren't officially considered sub-adults until age 15.

Sub-adults are still considered a type of child, but nonetheless are very independent. They are generally at similar levels of education as humans the same age, most of them work and many live away from their families full or part time.

Legally they occupy a separate category from either children or adults, with restrictions intended to protect them like lower legal working hours and it not being legal to sell them things like cigarettes, but they are also legally allowed to live apart from their family even if the family would prefer otherwise.

While they can earn professional certificates and credentials through education they are legally barred from many professional fields and must wait to use those credentials for adulthood. Because of this many take on apprentice or intern like jobs in their desired field to gain experience while waiting to be able to work in the field.

Despite the fact many of them work or are in college and can speak and think as you'd expect of a same-age human, they are known for being a bit childish, still having a drive to play, and sometimes still being emotionally immature and impulsive.

This is the stage at which their physical aging starts to slow down, so they do not hit their adult height until closer to when they get their next set of teeth. Growth does not completely stop but many sub-adults are markedly short compared to adults.

This set is shed at about age 30

Third Teeth

At age 30 Saratoans hit puberty and have their final growth spurt, reaching their adult height around the same time as their teeth start falling out and growing back in (for the Atau full adult height is usually reached around 35, but the tooth milestone and puberty still happens around the same time)

At this age they often become aware of their sexuality and between this and the expectations of whether or not they will reproduce, social roles within their culture are decided and imposed.

As they enter this age group there can be a lot of upheaval in their lives as they suddenly move from education to professional careers, move out, become parents, lose childhood friends and gain new ones, etc., depending on the individual

While they are culturally viewed as adults they are still often condescended to by older adults who view them as still being a bit wet behind the ears.

This set of teeth is shed at about age 65

Fourth Teeth

This set of teeth is associated with the approach of middle age. Normal adults generally dealing with life with now a significant amount of experience, but still with a huge population around them with more experience still.

This age group has a reputation for sometimes being annoying according to elders, as they are second only to sub-adults in their likelihood to rebel. This is the first time many of them have experienced adults (third teeth) showing them respect and following their lead on things, and this makes some start to view themselves as able to question those above them. This is especially annoying as this is also the time when many of them begin being trained for their future as house elders if they are in the position to take that role.

This age group and the next are the ones most likely to make a show of dominance smiling, as the tension between groups of adults who would otherwise be peers becomes heightened. Previous groups had no one to lord their age based social hierarchy position over but those they viewed as literal children, but now with other adults to pull rank on, the age based fights begin to reach their peak.

This set of teeth is shed at about age 100

Fifth Teeth

This set of teeth is associated with middle age and the time shortly after. Many start showing signs of aging during this time, with wrinkles and graying hair starting to appear.

During this time many start to see their fertility slowing down, with pregnancies becoming pretty much unheard of after age 130.

Many in this age group are already taking on important management roles within the house structure, as they are in the important position of both being old enough to command respect from many but still being fairly physically healthy and fit

This set of teeth is shed at about age 135

Sixth Teeth

The last set of teeth many Saratoans ever grow but not the last possible set. This set is associated with elders who are not the house leader. Often seen in the house leader's partner and eldest children within the house structure. Also often seen in older adults who choose to live outside the house structure system.

Saratoans health and signs of aging keep pretty stable from the previous age group through this one, accelerating much more around age 170, when they tend to lose the remaining color in their hair, thinning of the hair becomes visible on the arms and legs, and health decline and age related health conditions start to become a real problem.

This set of teeth is only shed under the circumstance of being left as the most dominant one within a family or group, often due to the death of the house leader when they were the next eldest individual.

Seventh Teeth

The last possible set of teeth when the canines become long enough they permanently protrude from the mouth at all times and unlike the other teeth are dry at all times. Because of this they are called tusks.

Tusked elders are stereotyped as very calm and patient and not interested in making a show of their dominance. They cannot meaningfully hide or reveal their teeth so they tend to relax about commanding respect simply for the sake of it as fourth and fifth teeth often do.

These teeth are only ever seen in the eldest dominant figure within a group. While it is technically possible to develop them after age 140, and much more rarely, as early as 100, it's more common to see them in individuals closer to 160 or more.

Saratoans generally live to be around 200, with the majority dying of old age closer to 190 or so, but still a few live past 200, with 210 being rare but not totally unheard of. There are rumors of even older individuals occurring but the records are sketchy

[who-is-page]

Greener Grasses and Fossilized Paw Prints: Where (and Why) the Greymuzzles Go

Author: Page Type: Essay Words: 1,229 Summary: Page's personal experience as an adult canine psychopomp, and how it applies to the dearth of older otherkin in general alterhuman community spaces. Answering the question of: where are all the older otherkin? And why do people always seem to eventually leave? Author's Note: The term "greymuzzle" is used within the scope of this essay's title to reference older otherkin who have been active in alterhuman spaces for extended periods of time (a nod to the word's original definition within furry spaces), and is not referring to greymuzzle's most frequent definition in alterhuman groups as a community-given term denoting an individual with noteworthy activity and contribution.

[Part of the Sol System’s Alterhuman Writing Project for 2024. If you don’t want to see these posts, block the tag #inkedclaws]

When I was a young otherkin, bright-eyed and bushy tailed, I found it difficult to conceptualize why there was such a dearth of older community members, especially those 30 and above. I could understand the theoretics behind the disparity, of course— social media platforms, as we all know, tend to skew towards younger audiences due to generational differences in technological proficiency/preference. Established adults with working lives and families don’t necessarily have the same amount of free-time that young adults or teenagers do, either. But even with all that taken into account, it seemed like the number of otherkin aged 13-21 in comparison to the number of otherkin aged 30+ was less a gradual decline and more an unfathomable chasm of difference. The community had been around for decades at that point, with plenty of ghost town groups and abandoned forums to demonstrate that fact… and unless the Veil was secretly age-restricted, those people hadn’t up and disappeared into thin air. So where were people going? And, more importantly, why?

It was a question I’d never been able to answer in a way that felt satisfactory as a teenager and later as a young adult. But now, feeling the call of the void myself, I finally do have an answer and an understanding that I never could have achieved five or ten years ago: why the fuck would I be online when I could be playing video games or having sex with my hot partners instead?

It’s a crude and simplistic way to put it, but just hear me out. As an established adult, I have access to funds, stability, and freedom that I never had as a teenager or even as a young adult who still felt at the mercy of an uncaring universe’s slightest whims. My support systems in high school and college suffered from the same sort of financial and social precariousness that come with the territory of navigating the world as a young adult, but my support systems now are made up of other established adults; while I’ll never say that everything is always perfect for all of us, it’s much easier to get on your feet and stay on your feet when your arms are linked with people who are more firmly rooted in one way or another. I have access to a type of freedom that I could never have imagined as a teenager, because it was literally outside of the range of what was possible for me and my peers.

And more than just that freedom is the fact that I, as an adult, have a family! “Having a family” has, in my experience, some shitty, heteronormative connotations. As a teen, I always took it at face value as juggling bills, kids, white picket fence, other boring responsibilities that eat up your time, etc. But as an adult, now I know that having a family can be anything you make of it, and I make it extremely, obnoxiously queer. In my case, it’s living with people who understand me on a deep, foundational level, and who love me not in spite of who I am but because of who (and what) I am. It’s not passively being around those people; it’s actively, enthusiastically spending time with them because it’s fun and because I love them too and because they’re my people and I picked them and they picked me. As a kid, I’d never consciously recognized the difference between people you’re passively around because you have to be versus people you intentionally choose to be around and who intentionally choose you right back. In part, this is because as a kid you often don’t get the option to make that choice, while as an adult you have more control over your environment. Too often online environments feel like the former, rather than the latter, even if being within them is, technically, a choice. But here, now, I have people in my household who will go out of their way to intersect their daily lives with mine and ask, “You wanna walk to the park?” “You wanna grab a coffee?” or “You HAVE to see this YouTube essay I’m watching and no I don’t care that it’s 4 hours long on a topic you know nothing about, just trust me!!!!!” and that’s such a radically different and wonderful experience.

As an adult, I live with a group of people who make being alive more fun than I could have ever imagined. I have the ability to make my own fun in ways I couldn’t as a kid, for a variety of reasons. I don’t have to feel like an anxious purse chihuahua 24/7, agonizing over my existence and every possible thing that is liable to go wrong if I frivolously spend money on so much of the thought of a hot coffee. And I finally, finally understand why older otherkin disappear off the face of the Earth. It’s because being an adult nonhuman-identifying person is amazing in a way almost no one ever talks about: the euphoric experience of being known and loved, and of knowing and loving yourself.

There are so many exciting and wonderful things I could be doing in the meatspace with people I have actively chosen to spend my life with, and who fully accept and understand me as someone who’s queer, plural, and nonhuman. There’s so many enriching ways I could be engaging with my hobbies, the environment around me, and my local community. With this all in mind, why the fuck would I ever be in public online spaces where people try to argue with me about whether or not I exist, or if my experiences are real, or if I’m using the right and latest lingo to describe my experiences? Why would I subject myself to that when I could just roll my eyes, close the laptop, and go be a beloved canine psychopomp in the comfort of my werehouse instead?

That’s the crux of it. As adults with families and support networks, we have the option to not subject ourselves to the morifying ordeal of being known by asshole strangers online if we don’t want to. We can stick to just our families and our friend groups, and we will still have people around us who understand and who acknowledge and interact with our alterhumanity. The alterhuman community isn’t the only or even most important place for being our authentic selves; rather, it takes a backseat in the day-to-day life. It’s still something that’s fulfilling and worthwhile to engage with, but only on our own terms (terms that are quickly becoming incompatible with the ways Internet culture is evolving). But more often than not, there’s just more fun things to do.

In some ways, it’s kind of a relief to have had this epiphany. People haven’t vanished from alterhuman community spaces because they collectively ‘grew out of it’ like some anti-otherkin insist, or because the various generations of otherkin are so extraordinarily different from one another as to be oil-and-water. People vanish from online alterhuman spaces because offline life as an adult alterhuman is awesome. As an archivist it’s frustrating, but as a nonhuman, I find it a specific type of happiness that’s worth celebrating in its existence and prevalence. It’s an assurance that life only gets better as you get older: isn’t that grand?

[darkwood-sleddog]

things that the united states could do to prevent the spread of rabies & other diseases in canines that is not resorting to restricting dog importation to dogs above 6 months of age:

fund more low cost vaccination clinics across the country. this alone would do more than anything else on this list.

require that all municipalities/states require dog registration where a rabies vaccine is required (this is already the case in a majority of the united states). Additionally require additional vaccinations like dog influenza, and distemper (diseases that have been confirmed brought to the united states by dogs imported by rescue organizations). In my State part of the cost of dog registration goes to funding low cost veterinary services for those in need. Increased registration would provide increased resources for those needing low cost vaccination.

Fund and provide more resources for municipalities to enforce dog registration. Currently this is entirely on the budget of municipalities and in small communities enforcement officers are untrained volunteers with a small stipend because that's what we can afford. this needs to change.

set up a pet passport program with land bordering countries like Canada and Mexico for easier land traveling for PERSONAL, PRIVATELY OWNED pets with a well documented history.

I would also accept an actual veterinary check at border crossings over the 6 month rule seeing as whenever I have imported dogs whoever checks my documentation has been very blaise about looking at the actual dog. A veterinary check could prevent (some, but likely not all) untruthful situations and try to ensure the dog's age and health match any passport documentation. Note that I don't feel this is ideal, but would 1.) create jobs at crossings and import points and 2.) may prevent some of falsified paperwork dogs from crossing if that truly is such a concern.

Forgive student loans of veterinary students and provide resources and funding for veterinary scholarships. Veterinarians in the United States are at high risk of suicide and the industry is at a breaking point with many vets not taking new clients due to lack of resources. This prevents vaccination for many people. Forgiving existing loans and providing increased scholarships will ensure an influx of people new to the industry are not struggling and will also be more likely to stay in the industry.

Have clearly laid out containment agreement and importation exceptions from rabies free countries and not rely on a chat bot to answer people's importation questions with any nuance.

[shadowdaddies]

Heyy, can I request anything with Fenrys?❤️

hii love, yes you can! (I interpreted this to mean I can write anything with Fenrys but if you mean you have something in mind to request just send it on over) 💜

A/N: I have both fluff and angst requests for Fenrys in my inbox rn and I'm in a mood today so I went with smut

Wild Things

Fenrys Moonbeam x f!Reader

Warnings: smut below the cut, pretty much pwp, oral f!receiving, rough sex, breeding kink if you squint, minors dni

The warm Terrasen sun beat down on your shoulders, your chest heaving as Aelin tossed you a towel to wipe the sweat from your brow. You had worked hard at training this afternoon, pushing yourself even harder when you felt Fenrys’s eyes on your ass in your leathers as he watched you from the shade.

Aelin’s eyes flicked to where your mate stood across the field, a knowing smirk accompanying her laugh. “Get out of here,” she shooed you, and you gladly took the opportunity to get out of the summer heat. Turning to see that Fenrys was no longer waiting for you, you trudged your way up the stairs to your bedroom, eager to strip and bathe. 

Tossing your towel to the bedroom floor, you shucked off your boots and padded into the bathroom, savoring the feel of the cool tile against your feet. Bending over to peel the restrictive fabric from your legs, you gasped as familiar hands gripped your bare ass, kneading the skin there as Fenrys let out a low groan.

You smirked, wiggling your hips in a teasing manner before stepping out of your pants. Yanking you by your top, Fenrys roughly turned you around, wrapping your hair around his fist to tilt your face towards him. 

Onyx eyes pierced yours as his hand moved from the hem of your shirt, making quick work of untying the laces. “You knew what you were doing, teasing me all afternoon in this tight little outfit. I was about to bend you over and fuck you in the middle of the training yard.” A whimper escaped you at his words, making him growl as he leaned down to lick the sweat from your neck, teeth moving to graze your ear. “Is that what you want, for me to fuck you like you deserve, you tease?”

Panting, you were pliant in his arms as you nodded eagerly, helping him shove off your top so that you were bare before him. Hands drifted to your waist, rubbing teasing circles along your lower stomach as you clenched around nothing. The scent of arousal was heady in the air as Fenrys tossed you over his shoulder, smacking your ass hard enough to leave a mark as he carried you back into the bedroom. 

You yelped, flying backwards onto the mattress with a bounce as Fenrys discarded his, golden brown muscles rippling with the effort. Snapping out of the momentary daze from seeing your mate’s body, you propped yourself up on your elbows. “Fen, I don’t want to get the sheets dirty. I’m still so sweaty.”

With a dark chuckle, Fenrys looped his hands around your legs, yanking you to the edge of the bed where he bent over you, golden curls cascading down around you. “Don’t worry love, I will lick you clean,” he murmured, voice like gravel as he captured your lips in his, sharp canines drawing blood from your lower lip as he tugged against it. 

You moaned, arching into him as hip tongue slipped between your lips, caressing yours as a hand found your breast. His mouth trailed your jaw, licking away the sweat along your neck as he moved further south. One hand massaged your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers as you writhed against him. His lips found your other nipple, licking as his teeth grazed the sensitive bud, sending a jolt straight to your core. “Fuck, Fenrys please,” you begged, babbling incoherently as his other hand skimmed lower, fingertips swirling above your hip bones.

Tongue lapping against your skin, Fenrys groaned at the taste of your sheen of sweat on his tongue, his warm muscle ever so slowly moving towards where you needed him most. Broad hands spread your legs wide, your dripping arousal exposed to the cold air of the room. 

Onyx eyes grew somehow darker as Fenrys honed in on you like a predator, thumbs rubbing the skin of your inner thighs. He leaned down, long hair tickling the sensitive skin of your legs as he licked and sucked along your inner thigh, skipping right over your core before moving to the other leg, sucking a mark at the inside of your hip.

Your hands found his hair, clumsily hoping to pull him closer. A pathetic mewl escaped you as you confirmed how strong his grip was on you, keeping you firmly in place to use as he liked. A dark, taunting laugh left Fenrys’s lips, the slight air blowing against your clit making you grip his hair tighter, desperate for more. 

Onyx eyes locked with yours as Fenrys dipped, his tongue flicking out against your dripping core, holding your slick in a lewd display before closing his mouth with a feral moan of satisfaction. As if the tether on his own self control snapped, Fenrys dove in, nose brushing your clit as his tongue thrust rapidly into your core, wet muscle massaging your walls in a deliciously teasing way. 

Lips wrapped around your clit, sucking harshly as a finger teased your entrance. Your head hit the mattress, eyes rolling back as a finger thrust into you, curling against you as he pumped in and out. The sounds of your breathy moans filled the room as Fenrys added a second finger, rapid thrusts hitting exactly where you liked. 

Your breaths turned rapid and shallow as your stomach tightened, having no time to warn Fenrys before you hit your orgasm, arching as you moaned out his name. He didn’t relent his efforts, tongue flicking out against your clit as his fingers scissored and pumped into you, prepping you for his cock.

Convulsing against the sheets, you pleaded against the overstimulation your mate wrought on you, finally catching your breath as he pulled away. Pushing your body further up on the bed, Fenrys tapped your lips with his fingers in silent request. You opened obediently, tasting yourself as he watched you suck on his digits. 

A low growl left the male as he shifted, quickly ridding himself of his pants before throwing your legs over his shoulders and thrusting into you without warning. A scream left your lips as he pounded into you, wild and feral as your mate took what he wanted. 

Your hands fumbled, attempting to find purchase on his shoulders as he fucked you relentlessly, your body shifting back and forth along the mattress form the force. Fenrys paused only a moment, hands grabbing your hips as he flipped you effortlessly, pushing your chest down on the bed.

He fucked you from behind, hips snapping against yours as the sound of your skin connecting echoed through the room. Your hands clawed at the sheets, moans muffled as you bit the fabric to keep from screaming in pleasure. You exploded the moment his fingers found your clit again, crashing into your high as you felt Fenrys’s cock twitch inside of you. 

“Good girl, take it all,” me murmured, his warm seed filling you as his hips stuttered behind you. Still inside of you, Fenrys leaned over, kicking down your spine, licking beads of sweat as he went. Slowly pulling out of you, you gasped as his fingers rubbed against your clit, collecting the cum that had spilled out of you as he shoved it back inside. 

With a smack to your core, Fenrys gently commanded you. “Keep that in there for me, love. I’ll prepare a bath for you.” With a kiss to your temple, he allowed you to collapse against the mattress, focusing on his warmth that still filled you as you heard the sound of bath water running from the other room.

[sanarkeo]

your body’s speaking my language

chaeyoung has a bit of a god complex and lights up some candles for valentine’s day.

alternatively: she grants you freedom in the form of a restraint. dom!chaeyoung x f!10th member of twice!reader - wax play - praise & degradation - bondage - exhibitionism (again, yes! 😇) - edging -  branding sorta kinda - chae with the strap in a tokyo love hotel - religious themes - this reaching 5k words ouuu...

happy belated valentines day to @nr1chaedickrider and every other chaeyoung lover out there <3

chaeyoung doesn’t know this, but you have frequent dreams of the same exact scene. the most recent, hazy permutation had you looking through stained glass cut to no holy figure, and onto yourself kowtowing to a woman in the church you haven’t visited in ages. your perspective shifts midway, and your breath is stolen from your lungs the moment you lay eyes on her.

and it is corporeal, the sting of scraped knees against herringbone floor, flowing white rayon restricting skin meant to be bare. it is divine, to look up upon her, sitting cross-legged on a pew, a smile that reaches her eyes and the baring of canines, multicolor light reflecting off them like jewels.

this is beauty reserved for sightings and yet here she is. her touch is salvation and her lips pressed against your forehead is resurrection. at last, she is encircled by blinding sunlight, the deep brown of her eyes being the last to fade to white.

what chaeyoung does know is that once in a while, in the middle of the night, you’re heaving, hands anxious for something to hold onto, eyelids screwed shut. and she brings you into her embrace, more often than not subconsciously, and mutters sounds, her hot breath tickling the tips of your ears.

when you are awake enough to grasp what’s happening, and grieve the dream that’s slipped away, sometimes you weep. that someone like her is real and has her arm draped over your hip. it breaks you.

it half-explains why you squat down as you hand the girl - now tucking sunglasses into her seat-back pocket - your underwear in an airsickness bag. chaeyoung receives it in her expectant hands and leisurely opens her purse to slot the folded bag in. she’s still for a second, looking at you like she has something to say, the corners of her mouth twitching slightly.

instead, she slides forward in her seat and tilts her head to give you a kiss. as she pulls away, you can see the reflection of the plane window in her irises. you take in how the oranges and blues courtesy of the altitude shade her tattoos.

“sit down, babe,” she says with a knowing glance, before taking her phone out and swiping through notifications.

even if everyone else can’t see, you feel your nudity under loose cream trousers. shuffling back to your seat, you have half a mind to cover yourself with a blanket and satisfy yourself. you recline and jerk in your seat, if anything to get some friction going. chaeyoung notices this in her periphery and holds your wrist, her pointer tapping on the back of your hand with a calculated rhythm.

“okay,” you squeak, and it sounds like an apology.

“I got a surprise for you when we reach shinjuku. you can wait a bit longer, right?" chaeyoung asks, raising an eyebrow. you nod and she hums. “thank you. you’re being so good for me today.”

you smile, giddy at the praise, and scratch your reddening cheek. it’s like she’s put you in a trance ever since she knocked twice and slid open the privacy screen to regard you with a shaded expression and a singular request. it’d all been automatic; from when you unbuckled your seatbelt to leave for the lavatory to when you stumbled just trying to get your panties off as quickly as possible, not a single hesitation kept you from flowing from one action to the next. 

“is this… for valentine’s day?” 

chaeyoung taps her nose but pulls her headphones out to shut you up. you’d known something was up when the girl became dismissive every time you brought up valentine’s day, and more so when she messaged about tickets to haneda for you two to arrive in japan a few days before the group was even scheduled to be there. 

as soon as the seatbelt sign lights up, chaeyoung grips your forearm and lets out a light whimper. after the plane lands safely on the runway, and as the people around you two rush to get their carry-ons, chaeyoung slides her fingers down your arm to intertwine them in yours. she brings your hand up and leaves lipstick on your knuckles.

she’s a bit of a scaredy cat on airplanes but when she takes your hand and leads you to the cab, a swarm of fans and flashing lights trailing behind you, you follow without a word. 

-

the music is so loud you sense the bassline thump through your chest, and as the saxophone screams you feel your fingertips buzz against the condensation of your highball glass. you’ve always wanted to come here - a charming little bar in a basement rumored to have been a brothel decades ago. a post-industrial but amber-lit haven for live music. the kind of crowd who won’t care who either of you are, with their swaying silhouettes and muffled conversations drowning under free jazz. chaeyoung and you are caught in the middle of their current with a perfect sliver of privacy.  

“how’d you know about this place?” you swirl your glass around before taking one last gulp of the cocktail. ice pressed up on teeth sends a shock through your gums.

“i’d be a terrible girlfriend if i forgot about you mentioning this.”

you shake your head: “no that was ages ago, like, even before-“

“so? you know i’ve been fucking obsessed with you ever since our debut.”

you dig up a blurry memory of legs crossed on a cramped dorm bedroom floor, the scent of nail polish and a commotion of giggles and joke-threats, and remember how hard your heart pounded opening up to girls older than you about something so niche and uninteresting. it isn’t the sound of her that you can recall - it’s a vignette of a set of plump lips with a mole set under it, a little to the side, mouthing: “i’d like to go there too.” 

the pianist’s solo is sprightly and with every note that blooms, a sense of anticipation grows in you. you look across the checkerboard table, past wine red pillar candles, and find chaeyoung’s unwavering focus on you. with each tap of her thumb on a cheek bathed in plum-colored light, the ivies snaking her silver ring twinkle. the music shifts with the reintroduction of smoky cymbals and a staccato rhythm. 

it’s not that chaeyoung looks incredibly different now, nearly a decade on. her unbleached, jet black hair and doe eyes let you easily picture the girl you sometimes saw as a trainee, walking past you in the corridor or being aspirationally whispered about with friends. but when your eyes flitter down to her lips, you decide the shape of them has changed together with the entire idea of the woman, somewhere along the way. 

for so many years you’ve only observed them. they were full and pinkish and a dimple forms right by them whenever she smiles. at one point, you used to envy her, innocently thinking about how unfair it was that fans could fall in love through a single laugh. one night many years back, as you watched the reflections of the night in the han river, you played with the idea that your heart could be hers too, if only in another universe. any bitterness leaves your palate when she leans over and closes her eyes. 

you love her new lipgloss. it’s slippery and tastes like summer berries. 

your shoulders heave now, and all these new associations now cross your mind. how warm her lips felt pressed onto the side of your head while you bawled in her arms, fearing the unknown and yet fearing knowing. how orange they looked under the sunset that summer she brought you to her relative’s farmhouse, so telling of their experience after she’d convinced you that maybe kissing wasn’t all that bad if you didn’t kiss men (and kissed her instead). 

you’re distracted by how they form an ‘o’ as chaeyoung lifts a candle off the table and blows it out. a trail of smoke is sucked into the air and dissipates above her head. you remember the heat radiating from her mouth when she licked the tears that streamed down your face after the first time she made you cum. you recall how aggressively red and swollen they can get, with the image of her biting down on a leather whip after she’d marked your skin for an achingly long period of time. 

she swirls the hot wax in the indent for a while then seizes your wrist, her thumb heavy on your pulse point. she flips your arm and drips molten red along the back of your hand. her teeth look severe in this bluish light. there’s a fire behind her eyes. you yelp and jerk to snatch your hand back, but she doesn’t relent, shushing you and immediately dropping the candle, letting it rock to a halt. a couple pairs of eyes shift to look in your direction.

“chae…” you let out, and wonder if it sounds more like a cry or a moan.

“oops.”

chaeyoung gingerly picks off each matte bead and flicks them over at her neglected bottle. there’s the lightest dotted line of discoloration that she slides her lips across when she holds your hand up. it stings even more now, and your tongue gets lodged in your throat. closing your eyes, you silently mourn the loss of all that sensitivity you had on the ride to the hotel. you regret being so sensible when she led you to the restroom of the hotel lobby, and let you know you had her permission to put your underwear back on. 

“i hope you’re not already dripping wet from that,” she says, cleaning her fingertips with a napkin and turning to grab her coat. 

you wonder if she gets off on making you feel so insanely aware of your arousal. you don’t think you’re wet, but you’re pressing your thighs together and gripping at the fabric of your pants. 

“i’m not.”

chaeyoung gets up off the stool and slips into her navy blue trench coat that’s a size or two too big. she raises her eyebrows at you and knees the chair back in. 

“whatever you say, babe,” she murmurs, her voice low and husky. 

she shrugs and burns you with a stare before turning on her heels to leave. you scramble to get your jacket on, nearly forgetting your clutch as you rush to follow her up the stairs. the music diminishes behind you and you strain your neck to find familiarity in her, but you’re greeted by a kaleidoscope of colors and lovesick couples letting loose in the streets. her small frame and stature make it all too easy for her to be lost in a crowd. the air hangs thick as you journey down the maze of bars and restaurants and you curse yourself for not paying enough attention in those japanese lessons. 

then, you spot her, twirls of hair softening the sharp, piercing lines of her face. as soon as you pause to take a breath, chaeyoung’s fingers close around your wrist and she wrenches you into movement. she navigates and guides you through alleys with her hallmark assuredness. once you reach a dead end, she slows and turns to you. between shuttered shops, standing on the prismatic sheen of damp asphalt, she lets you go. her skin is porcelain under the light from a distant streetlamp and the depth of her eyes, now cinnamon brown, remind you of the first time you confessed to her. 

it’s like she senses your wonder, because she takes you by the waist and pushes you against the concrete brick wall. your heels scrape along the road and droplets of water hit your ankles. chaeyoung’s angling her chin up, her eyes gazing down upon you like you’re nothing to her light. she unzips your jacket and pushes up your top and your bra. your hardened nipples hit the cold air and the breeze that settles on your skin causes the hair on your back to stand on end. she scans your body, choosing to pay no mind to your tits, nor to your wanting mouth.

you look to her, eyelids trembling, and state the obvious: “chaeng, someone’s gonna see us.” 

“who cares? i’m having you wherever i want you,” she snaps and rolls her eyes.

she slides her hand into your pants, her touch slightly clumsy, her fingertips cold against the dip of your hip. then, she parts your legs and presses onto a particularly sensitive spot on your inner thigh. the pad of chaeyoung’s thumb grazes against the slightest series of bumps in your skin and you swear you can picture it from candid photos and images framed in mirrors. it’s visceral, the memory of the searing pain of needles punching into your skin, injecting ink into you for good. 

chaeyoung is softer, gentler now than she was then. for one, her nails aren’t sinking into your other thigh like claws into prey. you remember the crazed expression locked in her eyes when she grit her teeth and drove the tattoo machine to trace the outline of a strawberry you’d drawn on a transfer sheet. you were glad the alcohol worked as a mild anesthetic when it happened but it made you bend over a toilet bowl that night when the post-adrenaline fear and pain hit and you puked your guts out. 

“you’re mine, remember? anywhere, everywhere-”

you can’t stand the distance between her hand and your cunt, so when fingers reach your clit, a raspy sigh leaves your lips. she massages it with perfect pressure before sliding a finger along your folds, lowering it momentarily into your slit. 

“you’re right. you’re not wet enough,” she tugs her hand out of your pants and brings it up to spit on her fingers. you’re not capable of coherent thought right now, any witty response will come out as a series of stammers. her hand disappears again and two slick fingers plunge into your hole. 

“f-fuck, oh my god,” you whine.

her tongue slips out between her teeth the same way it does when she’s focused on writing lyrics. she’s said that every song she’d written had been about you and you believe her by the way she hits and presses against every sob-inducing stretch of your walls. even with her slow thrusts, your moans get so loud you’re worried someone might hear. 

“you feel so good, so, so good in me a-ah fuck!”

“you’re so fucking cute.” she squeals at the little whimpers that escape your mouth. you start panting and she tips her head, licking and sucking on your tongue. “yeah? is my perfect girl drooling for me?” 

she quickens her pace and absolutely buries her digits in you and you groan, throwing your head back at how she fills you. but in the midst of this impatient intimacy, footsteps, a group of them, echo in the background, coming closer to both of you. removing her hand from your cheek, chaeyoung grabs the lapel of her coat and conceals your body. with a sharp turn of her head, a narrowed gaze dissects the scene behind her. 

“salarymen,” she huffed, pivoting to lock eyes with you again. “they’re all drunk as shit, they won’t remember this.”

you don’t know if it’s the cold or how magical it feels to have chaeyoung’s fingers fill your pussy once more, but you’re delirious and the thought of strangers seeing chaeyoung fuck you senseless in a grimy alleyway drives you wild. you buck into her fingers and her cold ring stings against your clit.

“i’m gonna- i’m-”

“oh you’re cumming soon?” she nods and moves closer, her nose pressed on your cheek, her breath hot on your neck. “my sweetness is cumming soon?” 

“chae!” you go off on a succession of curses, each word laced with disbelief as she pulls her fingers out of you. you dig your nails into her shoulders and try to shake her, but she pushes her shoulders hard up against you. she licks your juices off her fingers, savors the taste of it, and you watch her swallow, the eye contact constant and unnerving. your lip quivers and you shield your face with your hands, head still reeling over your denied orgasm. 

“still not wet?” she chuckles and pulls out her phone to snap a picture of you, reddened cheeks and messy hair, your tits still exposed. the flash blinds you more than it should. 

“public whore.”

-

“tmi? i had udon tonight~”

being an idol necessitates acting. you hadn’t expected this part of the gig when you’d first auditioned as this naive, bumbling thing, but found repressing emotions and shelling out little white lies as second nature to you. news sites and forums brand you as polite, nearly to a fault, not knowing how much practice you’ve gotten suppressing any negativity. but keeping quiet at family dinners and forcing high-pitched laughter on tv shows chips away at you. feigning obedience in a sea of believers, arms constricted in periwinkle sleeves, ground you down to a paste. 

“no, no, i can’t give any spoilers for the next comeback,” you huff, pouting for the camera. 

this - nonchalantly responding to comments and recounting a day that never happened as a bullet vibe hums in your hole - feels nothing like that. it’s a show you’re putting on with your favorite audience and favorite performer. and she stares you down from the other side of the hotel room as she adjusts the straps of her bra. the blood red floral lace of her two-piece complements the expanse of watercolors and scribbles etched into her body. you swapped imagining sheep for counting tattoos in the dim of the night when she’s passed out right beside you. 

chaeyoung is delicate and rough and terrene. but you’re looking at her too intently and she clicks her tongue, picking up her phone to drag a slider button a little to the right. the vibrations ramp up and you start to sway back and forth. you feel yourself leaking even more now into the blanket that’s covering your bare legs. 

“a-ah- it’s getting quite late now…” you’re fumbling with your phone, tapping the back of it to mask the muffled but noticeably louder buzzing. “maybe i should go to bed?” your eyes dart to chaeyoung and she blinks at you, unfazed. the golden glow emanating from floor lamps and tapered candles light her hauntingly. her apparition is breathtaking and distracting and your finger hovers over the x on your screen because the need to kneel before her now is painful. 

“what? don’t go, we’ll miss you?” you giggle at the message but you feel this tension build inside. and your walls clench around this tiny little thing buried shallow in you, the slightest movement away from coming out covered in your juices. you wonder if anyone can tell how hot and bothered you are, or if they knew you only had a shirt on. 

you purse your lips and feel your heart swell just seeing her folding her clothes and dropping the pile into a suitcase on the floor. you didn’t even know how that got there. she whips her head up to look at you, her countenance still inscrutable. 

“i’m sorry, i h-have to,” you apologize, half to your fans, half to chaeyoung. you adjust your position, the vibrations now reaching your clit.  “i have to go.”

there’s always an element of suspense that builds in you whenever chaeyoung controls you like this. it makes you want to keel over when there’s too much of anything going on around you. you felt understood as soon as you stepped into this unassuming building and saw how plain and normal the room looked, sans a pale yellow carry-on and a st. andrews cross. 

“don’t worry baby, we’ll get to that later,” she had said just after walking in, looking over her shoulder as she plopped onto the pristine bed. thinking about that now, you squirm.

they can’t understand. you suppose no one can get your relationship til they’re changed by her the way you have been. her words are apocalypse and you’d waited your whole life to bear witness to someone who can make you sober. how she slapped sense into you the same day you turned twenty, and how for the first time in a long time, in that same pitch black room, you let yourself be attracted to another girl. 

they can’t speak to the rush you got when you first gave her a peck on the cheek in public, can’t describe how you felt when she brought you to a park just before it closed to kiss you under towering oaks. won’t know the cramps you got from laughing too hard after they’d chased you out. they don’t know this isn’t your first time in a love hotel, can’t guess the number of times you’ve had to hide marks and bruises from everyone else. 

it’s paradoxical, how you find freedom and safety in her, but son chaeyoung’s a kind of contradiction. she’s frustrating yet patient, got a line of carrots tattooed when she was high but planned all year to get this amphibious monster cradled in a bed of spikes on her back. all you can ever be certain of is her care for you. she adores you to no end and it’s suffocating, the way she looks at you like you’re her love of the century. 

a notification pops up at the top of your screen - a message from your manager: “you don’t look well - are you okay? you should end the call before anyone gets worried.” 

“i’ve been lacking a bit of sleep recently so i’ll rest well now,” you reassure your viewers. “please don’t miss me too much? you can see all of us at the yokohama stadium in a few days.” a flurry of hearts and well wishes come in from the bottom of your screen and you wave at the camera before blowing a kiss.  

“bye everyone!”

after ending the live broadcast, you hurry to text your manager back, reminding her that next time you’ll give her more notice in advance of the lives, and yes, chaeyoung will take care of you because you’re definitely catching something. you look warm. your cheeks are flushed. of course you’re running a temperature, what else could it be? chaeyoung saunters to you, taking your phone and setting it down on the dresser. 

“you weren’t supposed to end it so soon. i barely even got started,” she rests a heavy hand on your shoulder and exhales. she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. the air that enters your lungs doesn’t have enough time to stay in there before it’s expelled. you hear the buzzing as loud as you hear her. you’re so close. 

“take off your shirt, go to the bed and spread your legs.” 

“yes, chae.” 

as you shuffle there, you feel your wetness between your thighs. you dispose of your top near the foot of the bed, get on and present yourself to her. she’s just standing there, back straight, arms to her sides, but it’s eerie and intimidating. there’s something animalistic in her eyes whenever she asks to observe you like this. her sight shifts between watching as the vibrator slowly slides out of you, and searing eye contact. your legs tense and you arch your back, the thought of chaeyoung making you cum without even touching you driving you so close to the edge. 

“it’s too early,” she grumbles, and takes a step to pull the vibrator out of you. the slightest, plainly intentional brush of her fingertips against your clit makes the loss more unbearable. “i think my favorite girl deserves a present first.” 

while chaeyoung switches it off, you bring your knees up to your chest and shudder. whimpering, you peek over at your girlfriend and find her gaze following the glistening trail of your fluids as they traverse sluggishly down her forearm. you shut your eyes for a bit, letting your heart rate slow but soon feel her weight dip into the side of the bed. chaeyoung combs through your hair and massages your temples while she pushes something matte against your arm. when you finally open your eyes again, you find a pastel pink box sitting beside you. 

“open it, princess. it’s for you.” 

the heat in your lap settles and you sniffle, tossing the crushed velvet ribbon aside to reveal a leather restraint. it is supple yet sturdy in your hands. just seeing your name embossed in gold on burgundy hide makes you light-headed. chaeyoung takes the restraint from your trembling hands and cocks her head up, wordlessly ordering you to stand. you rise to your feet with a practiced efficiency, turning around to face the only mirror in the room head-on. 

“my baby. you belong to me.” with the restraint in one hand, she fondles your breasts and buries her face into your neck. the leather scrapes your nipples and you let out a prolonged moan. “look at how much of a slut you are. you just want to be fucked, don’t you? controlled, like a doll.” 

“i do.” 

chaeyoung slips the collar around your neck and fastens it, the buckle resting a bit too snug. she tugs at the strip of leather connected to it, just to get a yelp out of you. your arms slide through pliable loops, followed by your wrists. and at last, she has you with your hands secured behind your back in an impossible grip, any struggle to set yourself free choking you at the same time. 

“my prettiest pet.” hooking a finger into the d-ring of your collar, chaeyoung drags you down to the ground then holds your head up. “you’re gonna be a good cum slut for me now, okay?”

a nervous giggle escapes your mouth and your mind races, eyes searching for some clue in the room. your lips naturally fall to a pout and raise your hand to settle it on her arm, your thumb rubbing into the constellation on her wrist. 

“kneel.” 

you nod, shoulders slumped, and adjust your weight to settle onto your knees. chaeyoung beams and rips her arm from you to collect a lit candle from the dresser. her rouge pink eyeshadow shimmers when she’s towering over you like this, the flickering light casting dancing shadows along her jawline. 

“open your mouth.”

she cups your chin in her hand and you can hear her getting choked up. the flame grows longer, burns more brightly, and you can just about peer over to see a pool of translucent white wax surrounding it. 

“stick your tongue out.” 

you extend your tongue and start to pant. your eyes flutter close when you see chaeyoung dip the candle down and cry out as you feel the first bead of wax land on your chest. she pours the wax indiscriminately over your torso, pinpricks of fire sparking goosebumps all over you, leaving uneven streaks and blobs of cream-white coating your tits and abs. you have this itch to get the wax off your nipples, but your hands are useless. it isn’t as hot as it’d been at the bar, but it singes and the heat spreads to your shoulders and down to your stomach. 

“i’ve always wished i could cum all over you like this,” she coos. through half-lidded eyes, the lamp light forms a halo around her. “wish i could make you walk the streets and let everyone know you’re taken.” 

“i’m all yours, chaeng.”

chaeyoung tilts her head and smirks as her fingers crawl into your mouth to pry it open. you feel her knuckles and joints against your teeth and gums, her nails digging into your cheek. your tongue wraps around her pointer and laps at it. 

“you want that so fucking bad don’t you? want to look so filthy for me?” her lips slowly curling into a smile, chaeyoung drizzles the hot wax over your cheeks, scorching your neck and your collarbones as they drip down. 

“fuck.”

to her, you look holy, defenseless, ruined. a waterfall of soy wax cooling and cracking on your skin. her favorite canvas in the world biting her lip at the stinging and tightness that constricts her chest. chaeyoung snaps out of her daze and blows the flame out. 

“get back on the bed. face down, ass up.” 

you hang your head low and fall onto the bed, no arms to brace your landing. with your chin digging into the pillow, you ram your knees into the mattress, forcing yourself up into chaeyoung’s favorite position. deep inhales and the lengthening of your spine keeps you sane waiting for her to get it over with and just fuck you. with your other lovers, this was your time to mentally prepare yourself and dissociate. with your exes, you’d lay still and draw imaginary circles on the ceiling as they entered you. with chaeyoung, every beat that her hands are off you is downright misery. 

“you just love taking time, don't you?” you snicker and score the material of your restraints with a nail. 

and suddenly your field of view is replaced by the darkness under a silky cloth, and a knot is tightened at the back of your head. you feel chaeyoung running her fingers through your hair before taking a fistful of it and jerking your head back. 

“trust me you’re gonna need time to prepare yourself” she jokes, slamming your head back down into the pillow.

the sound of straps being tightened and the clearing of a throat makes the blindfold more of a punishment. in your head, you’re going through all the toys chaeyoung keeps in that box under her bed. the bed creaks as she climbs on and you feel the bones of her knees hitting your calves. a hand wet from lube lands on your ass with a smack, the other guides the head of the toy to the entrance of your puffy, wet pussy. 

“did you get this wet from all the cum i gave you?” 

chaeyoung licks her upper lip as she holds the base of the toy, stroking your clit to your hole with its tip then slapping it against your cunt. you want to fold just from the sheer weight of it. she grabs hold of your waist and slides the entire length of it into you. you know you’ve never been stretched like this and you let a yell out in satisfaction. chaeyoung stills in you, letting you get used to its girth, how full it makes you feel, not knowing that you probably never will. she leans forward and presses her forehead onto your back. 

“take my strap, you fucking whore.” 

it’s carnal, ferocious, how she begins to thrust into you, all eight inches pumping in and out of your pussy. you suck air in through clenched teeth and sink your cheek deeper as your mind grows foggy. without fingers to grasp onto the bed sheets, you grip them between your molars and bite down hard. 

“rghhh- fuck!” 

whenever chaeyoung bottoms out in you, her fingers inch closer to youri stomach. she pushes down on your belly to feel the shape of the toy form then vanish, her grip getting even more possessive. 

“taking me so well.” she whines looking down at the base of the toy coated in your white slick. “so tight and creamy around me-”

it pains you to not see her as her toned abs flex with each thrust, not watch her intense gaze fizzle out and be replaced with something much more tender. 

“i need you,” you plead, but it’s muffled by the fabric.

chaeyoung pounds into you harder and deeper, and she abandons your waist to cling onto your restraint. as the friction builds and your yelps grow louder, she reins you in and pulls out to spit on the toy. then she slams it back into you and you cry out in pleasure. 

“oh my god, i f-fucking need you!” 

as you near your climax, every part of your body is pushed to hypersensitivity. the wax that peeled off your nipples rub against the sore buds every time she penetrates you. chaeyoung pins you down with her weight, the lace and heat of her chest melting into you, making your shoulder blades ache. your clit throbs and the walls of your cunt clamp around her strap. you swear it’s getting bigger, like it’s growing within you. 

“cum now,” she growls. 

chaeyoung drives down into you, fucking you into oblivion, when you feel a gush of ecastasy take over you. you spasm around her strap, milking it with your pussy, until she pulls out, making you fall back onto the bed. your thighs quiver and your toes curl while you flood the blindfold with tears. the aftershocks of it make your head spin and you whimper when you feel your girlfriend get off the bed. 

she pulls the cloth off your head and laughs at your bloodshot eyes. your eyes fall to the dildo right in front of you, and the sticky mess you made on it dripping down to the floor. seeing you take deep breaths and your drooping eyelids, chaeyoung holds you by your collar and awakens you with a slap. 

“not even close to being done with you, babe.” 

a fire reignites in chaeyoung’s eyes. she leads you to the cross and rushes to free your wrists from the restraint, letting the bulk of the leather hang from your neck. your wrists, now an angry red from the senseless fight you put up, taste freedom for not a second before they’re hoisted above you head and locked onto each corner of the cross. 

“i can’t do this…” your muscles scream with the memory of strain and you cry out as chaeyoung backs away from you to rest her legs on an armchair. “chaeng!” 

slowly, her hands reach behind her back and she unclasps her bra, revealing her tits to you. arching her back, she slides her panties down and discards both articles to the side with mild annoyance. 

“look pretty for me.” she spreads her legs, letting each one dangle over the sides of the armchair. as one hand reaches out for your phone on the nearby dresser, the other snakes down her abs to arrive at her clit. chaeyoung swipes to the camera and positions it to snap another picture of you, hung on a cross. the flash blinds you less than it did before. 

“like you always do.”

-

so i realized i got 600 notes on my first fic which is kinda crazy... thank yall so much 😭😭

[jenctrl]

love is not a walk in the park*ೃ༄

"when something that should be a walk in the park feels like a maze for the feline and canine–at least it's beautiful, serene, and sunny!"

warning; from the blackcat!Y/n series, the parts don't need to be read in order!

a/n: reuploaded from old to new account

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

It was the gentle breeze that pushed the clouds to move, the way there was a faint buzz of bees in the distance, the scent of green grass and soil and the presence of two suns that brought Y/n a serene feeling within her. 

It was as if she was alone, but not lonely because, despite their different nature, Yunjin brought her something she had been missing.

That feeling of inadequacy became faint. 

The words in her book didn’t hold a deeper meaning than her being able to live one life and during that one life being able to feel warmth on her skin despite sitting in the shadow of the tree. 

This was the most normal her life had ever felt which was ironic considering people would disagree because she was an idol. It was though, because she hadn’t been able to live her life more freely than now even with certain restrictions that came with fame and the need to keep a neat image. 

Yunjin basked in the sun where half of the blanket was–the other in the shadow where Y/n sat–these moments were the most peaceful ones she had. In a hectic life, as a person who indulged in the hectic with her energetic personality, Yunjin appreciated that she had Y/n to balance that out for her. 

The scent of cinnamon and benzoin was one she associated with serenity; Y/n’s scent reminded her of how she could wind down at times. 

There was a certain flow to the way her pen moved along the pages of the notebook as she scribbled down lyrics. Those songs she would brush off as silly, knowing she would never release them, that were, at times, about the feline her eyes would glance at now and then. 

What exactly were they about? Yunjin couldn’t figure that out, she couldn’t pinpoint what it was that she described when writing about someone she could write books about. It left her lost, but she kept chasing after the only thing her mind could think of; Y/n.

She wanted to state that she knew Y/n the best which still wasn’t as deeply as some would think that it was. However, Yunjin unlike others was able to figure out Y/n’s disguise; the girl always told one-fourth of a whole story and while the rest took it for the complete version the girl knew that there was more. 

Pretty eyes worn as a disguise. 

She looked up from the notebook and at Y/n who was leaning her back against Yunjin’s side for leverage. 

What exactly was it that she felt for her? So much, too much to simply put it into words, but it surely did make it easier to get words out on paper.

The feline was the perfect muse; Yunjin’s muse.

However, Y/n remained a mystery Yunjin loved being around. 

“What if we made a song together?” 

She casually put it out there, not thinking much of it as she mindlessly doodled on the page, underlining certain words. 

It wouldn’t only get them closer as she would get to spend more time with Y/n, but the girl beside her was amazing with her words. Yunjin would be able to learn; Y/n was highly lyrical and expressed herself in artistic ways Yunjin had yet to grasp. 

“What?” 

Y/n put the bookmark between the pages before she closed the book, her eyes didn’t leave the cover though. Nerves and uneasiness washed over her at the suggestion, her fingers traced along the outlines of the book in her hands, not being able to comprehend why Yunjin would want to write a song with her. Scared that she would get exposed for the fraud she felt like she was in a place she was supposed to fit into, but never felt like she did. 

“I mean we don’t have to release it, but just work on something together like a side project for fun.”

Yunjin shrugged and shifted in her place to turn to Y/n who sat up straight. 

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

That wasn’t the problem that Y/n saw with it, there were many.

“I mean as in; why with me when there are better options?”

The problem was that the girl felt like she was the least sought-after option and Yunjin would acknowledge her for the con that she was. Y/n was sure that she lacked, especially among all these other talented people. She stood out like a sore thumb and for all the wrong reasons; the feline did her best to stay hidden. She didn’t fit in a crowd of people who were talented when there were so many things she could do and have done so much better. 

She had achieved such high things in life, but was that enough? Was she enough? No way. All that she had done, Y/n could have done better, couldn’t she?

“Are you kidding?”

No, Y/n wasn’t kidding and she wasn’t going to entertain it either as she rolled her eyes and looked back down at her book, opening it again. Yunjin knew just how to make everything melt in the end and Y/n didn’t like that; no, it wasn’t that she didn’t like that; she just didn’t understand how Yunjin always managed to do it.

She was so confused about what it was that drew her to Yunjin. She just knew that it was a want; a need. Y/n wasn’t fond of that, especially as someone who had always been independent; she did not want to possibly become even slightly dependent on someone. She could simply ignore her emotions like she always did by occupying herself and pretending that she didn’t need Yunjin when it came to certain things. 

Yunjin smiled, putting down her pen as she huffed and moved to lie down on her back. Her smile didn’t disappear as she loved seeing the feline, who puffed up her fur at moments like these, melt into a puddle just for her. She loved not only the puddle Y/n could be, but she also loved her for the pompous behaviour and the person she was.

Was that it?

Despite her eyes being glued to the words she wasn’t able to read them and she let Yunjin put her head in her lap. Y/n was doing her best to try and ignore her canine, but it was hard to ignore the sun when it was beaming right at her. 

“Y/n, you’re the most competent person I know when it comes to music, especially when it comes to writing lyrics.”

The book got gently moved out of the way, Yunjin being able to see more than the cover as she looked over Y/n’s face and now met her eyes. She was aware that Y/n appreciated compliments, she could see how they worked as reassurance to her feline who she knew was insecure on the inside despite the confident and cold facade. 

Yunjin was always there for the girl; she was a loyal life-long companion for her feline. 

Still, words alone wouldn’t melt away a facade like hers, but Yunjin managed to do it with more than just words. She did it by simply being herself and it left Y/n confused; lost in something that sounded like an easy walk in the park but was like a maze with continuous dead ends. 

“How would you know?”

Comically Yunjin pushed the book back, blocking their sight of each other as she looked off into the distance of the park. 

The green grass gently blew with the wind, the sun beamed strongly and warmed her skin, and the whistle together with the rattling of the branches and leaves above them filled the momentary silence.

However, Y/n put it down onto the blanket they were on and looked at Yunjin with raised eyebrows. As far as Y/n knew she hadn’t shared any of the lyrics she had written and had yet to agree to help with the lyrics for their group's songs. The fear of being caught was too immense.

“I might’ve stumbled upon some papers–” “Yunjin.” Y/n groaned and Yunjin cowered, ducking her head at the bookmark that she was smacked in the head with. 

“To be fair, you gave me your book to read and it just fell out.” She defended with a squeak, peeking up at Y/n with her lower lip now jutted out. 

Y/n heaved a sigh and reclined, lying down on the blanket–Yunjin’s head still resting on her lap–and she stared at the tree above them. The green leaves swayed with the light wind and the sky peeked through the cracks of the branches. She closed her eyes when the sun managed to seep through the cracks and held them closed for a while as her mind started to work a shift.

At the silence Yunjin moved, sitting up and turning to look at Y/n. There was something overly serene about the feline when she looked at her. The bright ray of sun splayed across her face and her dark hair glimmered in the light as she lay with her eyes closed. 

Was it the sun? Yunjin could feel her face heat up at the ethereal view of her feline so comfortable in the open field.

She pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging and resting her chin on them while staring at Y/n. The canine knew she could spend a whole day just looking at the cat-like girl in front of her. 

Her head tilted slightly to the side, “Y/n…” Yunjin carefully started and got a hum in return, watching the hues of the sun reflect on Y/n’s skin. “You’re not mad that I did, are you?” She warily asked because the last thing in the world that she wanted was to make Y/n upset with her. It wasn’t difficult to get Y/n annoyed–Yunjin was aware–but it was difficult to get her upset and angry.

It was extremely rare to see Y/n angry. Matter of fact over the past few years she’s only seen her angry once.

That was enough not to want to see more.

Yunjin held her breath when Y/n blinked her eyes open, squinting slightly at the bright light and her eyes glimmered like water did in the sun. Water Yunjin wanted to dive right into and swim in for an eternity. 

She stared at the girl who looked like a puppy that had been kicked to the curb. It was simply impossible to get upset with Yunjin. It made Y/n purse her lips for a second, the only person she was upset with was herself for being like ice cream in the sun when it came to her companion. 

Y/n exhaled, trying to cool off, but it was impossible when Yunjin’s big doe-like eyes stared at her like the sun. “No, I’m not.” The girl annoyedly admitted and the latter visibly perked up at the words, excitement evident because knowing that her feline wasn’t upset with her brightened her whole world which was filled with butterflies she loved to chase for the feeling. 

“Okay, and I’m sorry…It just happened to fall out and I didn’t know what it was at first so I read it thinking those were notes for the book.”

“I know you wouldn’t read if you knew, it’sfine.” 

Yunjin nodded as she manoeuvred around and lay on her stomach beside Y/n, resting her chin in her palm. Their eyes met as they stared at each other in yet another silence. It felt like a contest when in reality it was simply because neither of them wanted to look away. There wasn’t anything better to stare at in the end.

“Will you make a song with me then?” She at last repeated her question, but in a much smaller voice as if to not startle the girl.

Y/n broke their eye contact, but only to reach into her bag. Yunjin watched as Y/n blindly rummaged through it before she took out what she was looking for.

“Here, let’s look for some inspiration.” Yunjin happily grabbed one airpod and plopped down onto her back beside Y/n who opened her phone. 

“Do you have–” Y/n didn’t get to finish her sentence as Yunjin spoke up, “genuine love, like when you know that you’ve genuinely fallen in love because you are confused about why you fell in love in the first place.” 

The feline lolled her head to the side, coming face to face with Yunjin whose wide eyes gazed at her, a pink tint resting on the canine’s cheeks.

“You’re awfully cliché at times, you know?”

“Love is a cliché we can’t escape though, isn’t it?” 

“Unfortunately.” Y/n agreed and moved closer to the girl, resting her head on Yunjin’s shoulder so they could both look at her phone and be closer. 

The two didn’t need much inspiration though when they had each other.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

[rainbowmothed]

╰ ⋯ ➢ GOOD GIRL ; CHAGGIE SMUT...

✿ sorry not sorry for this one guys... by the way, it fades to black!! so moreso suggestive than fully smut-ty? header art by sethdomain!

Charlie blinked as she felt the hands on her shoulders, palms meeting the mattress of the bed, feeling the muzzle wrap around her face, restricting her razor sharp teeth from the world. It wasn't suffocating or hurtful by any means– in fact, the darkly-hued hands that wrapped it around her face were soft and gentle, caressing her pale face as they moved, tracing the heavy coat of blush on her face as their hands moved.

“Vaggie,” Charlie huffed out, chewing the inside of her mouth. She felt the primal urge to latch onto something rise up in her chest. Her girlfriend simply hummed in response, fastening the muzzle tightly around her face. Charlie blushed heavily, huffing under heavy breaths. It was restricting, but damn, did it feel good.

“Hold still, hon.” Vaggie replied to her whimpers coolly, pulling her hands away. The loss of contact was aggravating for Charlie, but it was soon replaced as the collar was wrapped around her neck. Vaggie tugged gently, causing Charlie to move backwards compliantly. “Is that comfortable?” Vaggie inquiried, tone sultry.

“Uh-huh.” Charlie responded breathlessly, feeling her pale skin heat up, a burning feeling rising in her chest. Vaggie smirked, placing a kiss to her temple, gently latching her teeth onto Charlie's neck for a moment, digging her sharp canines in gently. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to leave a mark. That was usually Charlie's thing. She loved leaving symbols of herself on Vaggie; whether that be through a bite mark, a kiss that left her black lipstick smeared behind, or her claws raking against her girlfriend's perfect skin. It was all good to her. Charlie loved the sight of seeing the golden blood of her girlfriend dripping down her neck, dripping down her collarbone–

Charlie was snapped out of her less than appropriate thoughts with another tug on the leash, Vaggie pushing her down onto the mattress, back pressed against it as her head met the headboard. Usually, Charlie was the one in control, so this was a nice change of pace. “You're so pretty, Vaggie.” Charlie whispered, enamored by the sight of her girlfriend in all of her glory.

Vaggie smirked. “Likewise, cariño.” The denizen replied to the compliments sweetly, like she wasn't pinning Charlie down to the bed. It was amusing, actually. Her Spanish accent slipped into her words, constricting them like a snake, coiling around them and slithering their way into Vaggie's sentences. And damn, was it hot. Or at least, Charlie thought so.

Vaggie pulled the leash closer, hand traveling up to wrap around Charlie's now prominent horn, tracing it with her fingertip. “You know,” Vaggie softly began, tone low and gravelly. “I hear people talking on the street, occasionally. As we pass. They say they could make love to you better than I ever could, some lousy sinner.” Vaggie grinned, pearly whites prominent as ever. Gorgeous as ever. Every part of the fallen angel was perfect, beautiful– every compliment in the book to Charlie.

“Do you think that's true, mi cielo?” Vaggie demanded, tone more commanding, but still holding onto those faint undertones of love and comfort. Charlie shook her head, but it was difficult with how Vaggie was restraining her. Hey– she wasn't complaining. It was sexy. More than, even. “Of course not. You're better than they ever could be, Vaggie.” Charlie retorted.

“Buena niña.” Vaggie chuckled, words gravelly, coiling the leash of the collar around her index finger and pulling it slightly. She liked seeing Charlie strain and comply as she pulled on the little string. Not in the painful way– the thought of seeing Charlie in pain wasn't remotely attractive to her. It scared her, even. But just seeing her underneath her, safe, as close as possible? That was the raw appeal behind it.

Vaggie's wings rustled slightly as she felt Charlie's hand touch her thigh, scratching against her skin. “I said not to touch,” she gently reminded, slightly disappointed as her girlfriend pulled away. But that wasn't the goal right now– the goal was to make Charlie feel good. Vaggie smirked, slipping her head between Charlie's thighs in a swift movement, knee pressing against the mattress as she hooked her index fingers around the waistband of Charlie's pants…

. . .

Charlie breathed heavily as she finished, not being able to touch her girlfriend, bite, anything– driving her crazy. Completely under her mercy. Vaggie slithered back upwards, licking her lips, swiping away remnants of Charlie away from her features. The denizen unclipped the muzzle from around the princess’ face, tracing her hand across the pale skin, and circular rosy cheeks.

Vaggie leaned forward, pressing her lips to Charlie's. Charlie could feel the taste of herself on Vaggie's tongue, which was quite… interesting? Charlie arched a brow as she slithered her serpent-like tongue into her girlfriend's mouth, finally settling her hands on Vaggie's shoulders. Thankfully, she wasn't met with being pushed away.

Vaggie slowly pulled away, admittedly hesitantly, as she unhooked the leash and unclipped the leash from around her girlfriend's neck. “Did I hurt you?” Charlie laughed in response to Vaggie's sudden worries, shaking her head. “I'm fine, babe! Truly!”

Vaggie softly smiled, less heated up and mischievous than earlier. Moreso delicate and welcoming, like a loving embrace in itself. “Let's get you cleaned up, then.” Charlie nodded, pressing a quick kiss to the angel's forehead, horns and tail retreating as she cooled down, resorting back into a more humane form.

Vaggie pulled herself off the bed, willing herself off the bed as she looked down at her shoulder, suddenly aware of the bite mark. “I don't even know how you managed that in the split second that you had the muzzle off, but okay.” Charlie shrugged innocently, winking. “A magician never reveals her secrets!”

[dotomuses]

sagau p1 : miss miko's mumbles. he/they for reader, but no anatomy or dni. tw: none.. tevyat is kinda mean to reader but thats all lol.

💌 no actual reader content right now... just a small something to get started, somewhat an insight on tevyat's views on the reader?

" a hidden source of ancient knowledge, scrolls shoved deep within the akademiya's restricted shelves, gathering dust, painting colourful tales of a primeval deity.

a deity unlike the archons, unlike the dragons and unlike the scattered minor gods and beasts of tevyat, a deity who held no significance to tevyat's intricate laws. a deity with no magnificent creatures to call his own, no powers or blessings to give to kneeling worshippers, yet a deity whose swiftest glance struck the mortals of tevyat tongue-tied and reeling.

"let us adorn you with our flowers!" bellowed the trunks of sumeru's towering thorned trees, "let us sing to you!" whispered mondstadt's wailing, whining gales, "rest on our shores," mewled fontaine's raging currents "or drift on our currents, and let us take you far away from all...". inazuma's thunder cried and screamed, loud as a nursery of hungry children, hungry for the god's attention. natlan's rumbling rocks fell from their perches as avalanches, running like babes wanting to be coddled by their mothers, into the arms of the god. snezhnaya's unwavering snow storms fell and fell, adorning themselves with the prettiest snow flakes, just for a look, the lightest praise, from the god.

the deity's devotees were all children of violence, creatures of doom, beings of hate. but to him, they were the scorned, the regretted, the rejected. they were the most precious of all, the worthiest of his stories, the likeliest to trust in his well-crafted chronicles.

he spoke of worlds outside tevyat, worlds overcome with cold, never receding snow and ice. worlds made of gargantuan ships, each city a large cabin, housing pelicans of metal, and people of stone. worlds where reality and expectation went hand in hand, singing songs of people's dreams, bubbling with emotion, joy and grief.

most of all, he spoke of revelation. to him, to his creatures, to his loveliest of children, it was the solid truth, the undoubted phrases that left the tongues of the cosmos higher than celestia itself. but to the archons, to the people, to every other creature, they were a fraud. a liar, who insulted the archons with his reign over their wicked beasts, who wished nothing more that to provoke celestia's wrath, and be stricken so far into the abyss, he himself would someday become one with it. his hymns stitched words, words that revealed the truth of this world, the truth that-"

yae miko laughed lightly, covering her mouth with her hand, pink pigment shining brightly against her nails. "what a lovely story you've made up for me, traveler, paimon," she began, watching the pair carefully, "paimon makes the loveliest story teller... but do tell me what set you out to recite this fascinating little thing." she added, an eyebrow arched elegantly.

paimon scowled, her little face scrunching into displeasure. "miss yae miko!" she stomped her foot in the air, "we didn't make it up! traveler already said so! she said we got it from sumeru! and won't you answer our question?!" she cawed, pointing dutifully at her companion, who smiled sheepishly.

yae hummed thoughtfully, a finger to her chin "do remind me of your question little paimon" she feigned a small yawn, covering her lips politely, "i'm afraid you've bored me asleep with this one, i can barely recall anything..." paimon looked ready to blow a fuse, ridiculously oblivious to yae's teasing, her rubber heart being prodded at, and easily provoked with yae's taunts.

"we'd asked if any of this makes sense to you miss yae, any familiarity?" traveler began, her voice lofty and slightly strained from unuse, "we've tried with other companions, but not even the akademiya scholars have anything to say." yae miko smiled, her shiny canines concealed, eyes shut in a relaxed manner.

"i'm afraid not traveler, but if nobody seems to recognize this odd 'deity' of yours, why are you so persistent on finding somebody who does?" yae enquired, pressing her lips together in a thin line, shaking her head "perhaps they're just fiction you know... another dashed, yet rather thorough attempt i must confess, at a bestseller."

paimon sagged midair, like a suspended sack of rice. "all this trouble for nothing?" she wailed, "i told you we should have called quits after al haitham said he knew nothing! and i told you we should've called quits again when faruzan shooed us away!" paimon scolded, crossing her arms at the traveler. her companion only raised her hands in surrender, smiling apologetically, and turning back to the other woman facing her.

"thank you for your help miss yae" traveler spoke, pressing her palms together, "we're sorry to have bothered you with something so trivial..." yae miko only molly-coddled her in response, shaking her head left and right. "it's quite alright dear, you've provided me with quite a bit of entertainment... be off now, i'm sure you have much work to get to."

she eyed the parchment paimon read out of so enthusiastically, hesitating from the probable absurdity of the question she thought of asking. "tell me traveler, would you mind if i held on to this for a while? perhaps we could make use of it at the publishing house..." paimon opened her mouth to refuse like a little gentle lady, adamant on keeping all their travel's treasures to themselves, only for the traveler to respond first. "i don't see any use for it, i suppose you could hang on to it miss yae."

yae miko brightened, eyes gleaming happily at her conquest "i'm very glad traveler, you've done me a great favour," she said, taking the scroll from her "now, i shan't hold you back any longer. do visit!"

traveler nodded, waving goodbye as paimon tugged on her scarf, yowling "i told you so!"s, "you should have listened!"s and an accusatory "why did you give it away?". yae lifted her hand in farewell, which dropped solemnly as soon as the traveler was out of sight.

she flourished the paper open, a sudden, uncharacteristic scowl on her face, painting her lovely features in disgust and scorn. "even in exile you bother us all, charlatan." she murmured to herself.

she ought to burn it, and throw its ashes to the fish, but held back. the lovely swirls of the letters mesmerising her, drawled along the page in a dance, elegant beyond words. her frustration only grew, chanting that no matter how much beauty liars weaved in their words, they were still lies.

and no matter how beautiful a liar was, they were still a liar, and would remain one until repentance.

and (name) would never repent.

💌 gahh i feel kinda lame.. its been a while since ive written anything and speedran this on 13% charge. had a dillema choosing between faruzan and yae for this intro piece, but i hope its turned out ok. ill try uploading the next part soon. bye bye!