#This is smut

[lady-z-writes]

Distraction

Billy Butcher x reader

In which Butcher returns in a rage and needs you to take his mind off it.

Cw: smut (18+), masturbation, fingering, sex, oral, hair pulling, choking.

You hadn't planned on staying so late, but you'd gotten caught up in a podcast, enjoyed the silence of the empty space between the words.

A loud slam startles you. You're instantly on high alert, popping an ear bud out, holding your breath, realizing - damn it - it's 6pm already. The setting sun peeking through the window blinding you momentarily as you rise, you hear more slamming.

As you glance toward the door, there's the familiar cussing of Butcher. You can't help but heave a relieved breath. At least it wasn't a supe.

It's stupid of you, really, but you approach. Tentative. Anxious.

You say nothing when he meets eyes with you.

"What're you still doin' 'ere? It's late." His voice is almost a growl.

"I know. Wasn't paying attention."

He shoots you a look. "See? That's a problem, luv. You're distracted." He seems to get more angry as he thinks about it.

Before he can say anything else, his phone is going off and he glances down to read a message.

Rage overtakes him again. You think he's going to toss his phone at the wall, but he pockets it and slams a file folder on the desk beside him.

He runs his hands down his face.

You step closer, wanting to fix it; you're always wanting to fix it.

"This ain't somethin' you can fix, dutches," he mutters quietly, instantly reading you.

"Let me try."

He's about to say something, but instead he shakes his head, his boots sounding as he closes the distance between you.

And then he's kissing you so suddenly, you can't help but gasp. Moments - mere moments and you're catching up, kissing him back, wrapping your arms around his neck as he hoists you in his arms.

The kissing turns into you pawing at each other on the couch, to you grinding against his thigh only to feel his phone there, the thing vibrating with a text again and you startling. Butcher lets out a, "don't go givin' me ideas" when he hears you moan.

And before you know it, you're on your knees before his widespread legs, his cock out, his big hand stroking it. He makes you beg before he lets you put your mouth on him.

"Mmm, 'at's a good girl, takin' all of me."

Fingers wrap in your hair, he pulls any time you deepthroat him. You're wet from this, soaking your panties - hoping he'll treat you to some part of him after this; his hands, his mouth, his fingers - you'd thank him for any.

The anger sheds from him; turns into need. You do a good job of distracting him from whatever it was.

Butcher isn't loud, but he lets you know what he likes. He's grabby; touching you anywhere he can. And he's chatty - the filthy things coming from his mouth make you heated.

One hand pumping his cock as you suck him off, your other hand trails between your legs. You're clothed so it's not providing any real relief on your clit, but it feels good.

When Butcher sees, he's taunting you. "Ohh such a sneaky thing you are. Those dainty fingers ain't got half the tricks I do. You thinkin' about them? Thinking of my meaty fucking hand cupped around your pretty fucking cunt?"

Another deep throat. He yanks your hair as you stroke his balls.

You linger there, down on his cock, tongue pressing against the underside of him, his vein pulsing, your hand gentle on his balls. As you come up for one more go, he's forcing you back down and you're almost choking. He cums without warning and you do your best to swallow him down.

Moments pass. He's got you sprawled across the desk in seconds.

When he undresses you, you're arching toward him, eager to kiss him again, but he's biting his way down your body, marking up your thighs in his travel to your center.

He's pocketed your panties. He would.

You're about to comment when his mouth finds your clit and he's sucking. You cry out, surprised when a finger plays with your wetness, slips inside of you, arches just right. You're saying his name like a hymn and he hasn't done anything yet, not really.

You want to ask for more, but he's way ahead of you: inserting another finger, working up the speed. You're blissed out already. He matches the pace with his mouth.

The groans he lets out shoot vibrations right through you and you're embarrassed at how fast you cum for him.

He keeps up pace, doesn't falter a second.

When you hear a, "fuuuuck you're fun," you're tempted to offer all of you to him - but he's way ahead of you.

You hear his pants hit the floor, feel his mouth leaving you.

"What say you, we have a bit of a go then?"

You pant out a, "please" and he's slipping his fingers out of you.

You pull him close before he's expecting it, kiss him harshly. Billy tries to push you back down, but you put up a fight, shoving his arms away so you can keep kissing him.

He lets out a growl when you bite his neck in the scuffle.

Of course, he ultimately wins and pins you against the desk. He wastes no time angling your hips and lining himself up with your entrance. A few strokes of his cock against your wetness and he's pushing inside of you.

He pauses until you're comfortable but that's the only kindness he gives you. His pace is unrelenting; you can feel his desperation. It doesn't stop his fingers from pressing against your clit and making you cum again.

"'At's right, cum on my cock, love. So good how you squeeze me."

He chokes you and you realize you like it. The feel of his big hand on your throat, holding you in a way that's between care and desperation. He knows what he's doing - knows just when to let go; like he's testing you.

You have no control. He's completely consuming you. It's freeing, almost.

Another orgasm later and you're pretty sure you're seeing stars. When he demands another, you tell him you can't; you've never.

"You will," he growls.

And he's right.

You cum again. He's so overwhelmed by the feel of you, he almost spills inside. A drop of cum plops on the floor before he's stroking himself over you, painting your belly with his cum.

It's filthy and arousing all at once.

You want more of him.

And he can read it all over your face.

"Ah, such a pretty fuckin sight you are; all painted up for me. Fucking gorgeous."

You almost assume he'll leave you like this, but as you lie there catching your breath, you feel a cloth wiping softly against your skin.

Hm. Billy and aftercare. Who knew?

"Come home with me, love?" It's quiet, the deep rumble of his voice.

And you're so damn eager to say yes but you catch your breath, nod up at him, feel the intimacy of this moment; feel raw and real for once in your time knowing Butcher.

You manage out, "Anything for you" and watch the emotion dance across his face.

[jokeringcutio]

Stepdad!William Afton x Reader - Christmas Present (WARNINGS:SMUT)

Warnings: Creampie, taboo, stepdad x reader, secret s*x, Daddy kink, Christmas Dinner, Secret touching, Fingering, Behind your mom's back, Praise kink, dd/lg, Dark William Afton/William Afton is not a nice man, Mutual agreeance & consensual intercourse.

AN: I don't know what I did, but this just came out. Not beta read but I am going to sleep now and I wanted to share this with you all. For quick links and more, see notes below.

The soft glow of Christmas lights bathed the room in a warm, inviting atmosphere. You sat at the table with your mom, stepdad William, stepsister Vanessa, and her new boyfriend Mike. The scent of roasted turkey and homemade stuffing filled the air, while laughter and cheerful conversation echoed around you.

Vanessa and Mike animatedly chatted about their budding relationship, beaming as they recounted their favorite dates and shared aspirations. Their love was palpable, and they seemed eager to impress your mom and William with their connection. It seemed to work, your mom seemed smitten with Mike and William hadn’t said a nasty thing to him all evening – which you considered a win.

"Hey," Vanessa said, turning her attention to you, "when are you going to get a boyfriend?" Your heart clenched, and words failed to form in your throat. She didn't know what had been going on behind closed doors.

"Yes, good question," William chimed in. “Your mom has been dying to get a grandkid or two,” he said, feigning concern.

You nearly spat your drink out and tried to look away. Especially as beneath the tablecloth, you felt his hand snake onto your upper leg, fingers brushing against your skin. It sent shivers down your spine, the ghost of his touch haunting you.

“Dad!” Vanessa cried out.

“Well, it’s true,” William said matter-of-factly, and you could tell from the corner of your eyes that your mother blushed. “I just want to see all my girls happy and settled. So, when will you bring home a nice boy for me to meet?” His voice dripped with insincerity. Bringing home a date was the last thing he was waiting for. He didn’t want to see you date, or risk losing you to anyone else.

The fingers on your legs dug possessively into your skin, a silent warning that you were already claimed.

His.

"Uh, I'm not sure," you finally managed to say, avoiding eye contact. "I've just been busy with work, you know?"

"Sure, but there's always time for love," Mike added, oblivious to the undercurrents at play. He didn’t know what was going on – none of them did. He couldn’t see how your stepdad’s fingers traced up your Christmas over-the-knee stockings until they met bare skin.

"Maybe one day," you murmured, forcing a smile. As the conversation moved on, William's hand remained on your leg, a sinister reminder of the secrets you shared.

It became hard to focus on dinner like that. With his palm hotly upon your flesh. Memories of your stepdad’s mouth on your skin, his possessive grip on your hips, and his whispered promises to keep your liaisons secret washed over you.

You swallowed hard, trying to focus on the colorful decorations and warm atmosphere as everyone continued eating, trying to ignore the sick knot forming in your stomach.

God, how could you want a man like him so badly? When you knew it was so wrong?

"Delicious turkey, Mom," you said, attempting to regain some semblance of normalcy. Your mother beamed with pride, but all the while, you felt William's hand inching further up your leg, like a spider crawling toward its prey.

"Thank you, sweetheart," she replied, oblivious to the tension that was slowly strangling the air around you.

"Great job with the table setting too," Vanessa chimed in, squeezing Mike's hand as they exchanged loving glances.

Yes, great. Excellent, you sardonically thought as your stepdad’s fingertip brushed past the crotch of your panties. A wet spot formed where his fingers brushed past your nub, the now damp material seemingly spurring him on, for his fingers became more insistent. Even going as far as to hook underneath the elastics of your panties at one point to dip a fingertip between your soaked folds. You flinched, knee banging against the underside of the table, and whispered a flustered apology while William dipped his finger a little deeper inside your cunt – as far as he could go from where he was seated really.

You met his heated blue gaze as you looked to your side, saw the way he watched you intently from behind his aviator glasses. He pumped inside of you a few times, just to the second knuckle, and then his finger slid out again.

The now wet digit remained on your naked thigh for the remainder of the meal, only leaving when William had to pass food around. You watched with fascination as the criminal digit stroked past one of the bowls, how his fingertip glistened with your juices and accidentally tapped against some of the lettuce inside.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as you picked at your food, each bite feeling heavier than the last. Your core was like a fuzzy ball full of wires that all got tangled. Expecting your stepdad to touch you - and hating the fact that you wished he would.

When dinner finally ended, you excused yourself, claiming exhaustion from work. You escaped to your room, away from your stepsister and her happy relationship, away from your mother and her bright smiles. And most importantly, away from him.

You slipped into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin as if they could protect you from the reality lurking just beyond your bedroom door. Sleep was elusive, your thoughts racing and your heart pounding in your chest.

The creak of the door opening sliced through the darkness like a knife, and your breath caught in your throat as you heard your stepdad’s familiar footsteps approaching. He stood beside your bed, his presence looming over you like a shadowy figure.

"Merry Christmas," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "I came to deliver your present."

He wouldn’t even flick on the light, but you could see him illuminated by the glow of the streetlamps through the window. He was already naked, a bow wrapped around the base of his already erect cock. He held it in his right hand, stroking himself and brushing his thumb past the head, the slit already weeping pre-cum that glistened like white pearls in the dark. "I've been waiting for you all through dinner." He stepped closer until you felt the bed dip with his weight, resting a knee next to you on the mattress. You could feel his breath on your skin, hot and tantalizing.

"Are you ready for your present?" he asked, the gravelly tone of his voice making your stomach flutter.

You swallowed hard, unable to speak, but your body betrayed you, nodding in submission. The tension in the room was palpable, both of you knowing what was about to happen. You wore a nightgown with nothing underneath. As always. Easy access for Dad. Like Daddy’s good girl.

His hands found yours, gently guiding them to the ribbon around his shaft. Your fingers trembled, but followed his lead, slipping beneath the fabric to pull it off. Your fingertips gently stroked past his fevered skin, feeling the ridges and the veins and how his member throbbed at the slightest touch.

"Beautiful," he murmured, eyes raking over your flushed form before he pushed you down on the bed again.

He wasted no time, reaching out to touch you, fingers tracing delicate patterns across your sensitive flesh. You gasped, hips arching involuntarily as pleasure bloomed within you. The suddenness of it all was overwhelming, your mind racing with thoughts of guilt and desire. Your nipples peeked underneath your nightgown, his blue eyes drawn toward them. He lifted your gown to reveal your stomach and breasts, wasting no time in tasting your skin with his lips and his tongue.

You writhed underneath him in pleasure while his erection bobbed against your hip. The wish to just put it in there grew stronger and stronger with each flick of the tongue and each nibble of teeth.

Soft whimpers and moans escaped your lips as he kept your arms pinned down, hovering over you like a predator eating its prey. His lips moved lower, just when it became too much, and then his tongue flicked past your stomach to your core.

A yelp escaped you, and wetness gushed forth between your folds, making your core glisten in the light of the lamps from outdoors.

"Quiet,” he whispered, leaning down to press a heated kiss to your inner thigh. "Your mother might be waiting for me in our room right now. You don’t want her to find us like this, do you?"

It took effort to shake your head and mutter a faint no, because he was driving you wild. Your core pulsed with slick, too empty and aching to be filled. You were drowning in sensation, sinking deeper into the abyss of forbidden lust.

"Please," you whimpered, no longer able to distinguish between want and need.

"Shh, you want to be Daddy’s sweet girl, right?" He cooed, pressing his lips to your trembling ones. "I'm going to make you feel so good."

And so he did. His hands roamed, his mouth tasted, and your body responded with an urgency you had never known. The world outside ceased to exist, replaced by the symphony of your ragged breaths and whispered moans.

"William," you gasped, as he finally positioned his hard cock at your entrance. You placed your hands on his broad shoulders, fingers digging into his sweaty skin. “Daddy, please,” you begged him. “I wanna be your good girl. Fill me up, please, Daddy. I wanna be good for you.”

And with a grin that made his teeth glisten in the dark, he entered you, filling you completely. His thick cock spread your pulsing walls wide, pussy fluttering helplessly around his size as he bottomed out. His balls slapped against your skin as he moved out and then in again, nudging his cockhead deep inside your core and making you see stars.

It was such a delight. How you had missed feeling him inside of you like this. To be filled so completely by this man that your mother called her lover.

If only she knew.

William filled you completely, satisfying a primal need you wished you had never known as it became an addiction. It was a sensation that both terrified and exhilarated you.

"Say my name again," he demanded, eyes locked onto yours. "Let me hear it."

"Daddy," you repeated, more firmly this time, feeling a surge of power as he shuddered above you.

The love you made was sweet and tender, yet laced with a darkness that could not be denied. Whispers of ‘my sweet girl’ and ‘Daddy’s good girl’ were accompanied by a pull of your hair or a thrust so rough it made your teeth chatter. Your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge of ecstasy. And when you finally tumbled over, it was as if the world had shattered around you, leaving only fragments of pleasure and pain. Your walls fluttered around his cock, forcing him over the brink with you. A loud groan filled your ear and revibrated through your entire body.

As you lay there, panting and spent, your stepdad slowly moved up on his elbows and reached for something on your nightstand. The light blinked on and you had to close your eyes because of the brightness, bringing an arm up to your head.

His warm body withdrew from yours with a slick squelch. And then you felt his strong large hands as he pushed your legs open wide. You slowly recognized he reached for his phone, capturing the aftermath of your union. The sight of white globs of sperm leaking from between your legs seemed to bring him immense satisfaction, and he held the camera up close to capture it. The way your pussy pulsed in the aftermath, the way his seed was slowly pushed out and then sucked back in again by your body - a wicked smile graced his features as he recorded it all.

Then, once he was satisfied, he put the phone aside.

"Best Christmas present ever," he declared, his voice heavy with pride and possession.

You smiled up at him, cheeks flustered and eyes tired. You slowly pulled your nightgown back down, covering the fresh hickeys, love bites and bruises your stepdad just gave you.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you said, heart swelling with satisfaction when William’s blue eyes twinkled at your words.

“Good girl,” he said again.

You watched as he slowly raised himself from the bed and bent forward to seek for the Christmas ribbon. Once he found it, he pumped his cock in his fist a few times until it started to become erect again.

“Help me with this, will you?” he asked, holding out the ribbon for you to take. You sat up on the bed on your knees to help him, feeling how even more of his sperm seemed to leave your soaking-wet core. You bit your lip as you tied the ribbon around the base of his cock once more, creating a lovely bow, then carefully glanced up at him.

William caught your look and groaned. “Oh, honey, don’t look at me with puppy eyes like that. Makes me just want to ravish you again.”

He bent over to capture your lips in his own, cock still in his hand, pumping himself a few more times. When he broke the kiss and leaned back you could see how his cock was now back on the way to be fully erect again, and you bit your lip in desire.

“Much as I want to fill you up a second time, I got to tend to your mom first. Promised her a Christmas present as well.”

He must have seen the way your face fell – no one wanted to be reminded of their lover having sex with someone else, especially when they were family. But you had known something like this would happen. He was your mom’s husband after all. Not yours.

A gentle brush of his thumb past your lip and your gaze softened.

“What will you tell her about the wetness?” you asked, shyly gesturing at his cock which was still coated in your mixed juices.

William’s smile turned into a devious smirk. “I’ll just tell her I lubed up,” and then his hand ruffled through your hair. “Don’t worry, baby. Your still Daddy’s favorite girl.”

He leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. The gesture should have been comforting, but it only served to remind you of the twisted reality you now found yourself in. You watched as your stepdad left the room and then cuddled underneath the blankets again. A smile slid on your lips and you closed your eyes.

Your stepdad knew how to give the best presents for Christmas ever. ~ AN: Merry Whatever you Celebrate.🥳 If you like this kind of filth, I have a lot more of Stepdad!Afton x Reader and more coming up. I also write for other interesting bad men such as slasher characters. If you are feeling generous - as it is the season of giving - you can always leave me a little thank you on my Ko-Fi  (: I'll post some quick links below to other works. My prompt box is still open, but I will be heading into the hospital at the end of December and depending on my treatment, I might have to close it in the near future. But I'll keep you up to date :) Quick links: ~~ Masterlist - Request Box -  Support me on Ko-Fi ~~

[turtletaubwrites]

I am unwell

[myeagleexpert]

Hana's Demons of Lust

Today they are like this:

But in the beginning they were like this:

Just wanting to use her to get revenge From giving up revenge to trying to live a normal and cute romance Giving up the cute and normal romance to use his demon powers to make her stay by his side forever

(I got distracted quickly, I'm going back to Twst)

[bitchgray]

I Dream Of You

You've met a wonderful man...now you just need the help of a certain dealmaker to keep him. And luckily, he knows just what he might want from you.

Word Count: 7K

Dividers both by cafekitsune.

Tags: afab but gn!reader (reader's described as having breasts and wearing a two-piece swimsuit, and is mentioned as being able to carry children), established relationship, roleplay (Azul pretends to be a manipulative asshole for fun, sport, and sexual gratification on both your parts), dubcon (as part of the aforementioned scene), tentacles (so many fuckin tentacles he's an octomer what do you expect), I take liberties with guessing mer anatomy, oral (sort of? He sticks his fingers and one of the aforementioned tentacles in your mouth), breeding kink, praise, petnames (pretty thing, darling, pearl), creampie

Author's Note: I'd call this Kinktober but I don't think I'll write more, so I'm just uhhh....stuffing as many kinks as I can into this and calling it a day.

You wished the sound of the waves were soothing to you. The feeling of the cool water lapping at your feet, the salt in the air, the heat of the sun on your skin. You wished any of it could be soothing to you.

As of this moment, though, more than anything, they were reminders. Forcing you to keep your resolve or be left on your own. And that, more than anything…you knew you couldn’t manage.

The potion you held in a stoppered glass vial would work marvelously, you had no doubts for that, all that would be left…is to simply drink it.

All you could do was take a slow breath of the stinging, salty air, and muster what little courage you could have.

With hands that were steadier than the way you felt, you undid the stopper of the bottle and knocked back the potion—it felt ice-cold on your tongue, making you cough when you finally swallowed all of it.

You looked briefly back at the abandoned, rocky shore, doubts swirling in your mind.

And you took slow, measured steps into the waves, letting the water consume you.

You knew how to find where you needed to go. Beneath the waves you were able to breathe just as easily as you could above, and your body was resistant to the pressure, your eyes were adapting faster to the light dimming from the surface. Even the cold wasn’t clinging as easily, your body adapting to more and more as you slowly walked your way to the cave where you knew you’d be able to get what you wanted.

“Hello?” An odd thing, the way your voice reverberated underwater, but your newly-sharpened gaze caught on to a flutter of movement deeper into the cave. Your brow furrowed—you knew you had the right place, so was it as simple as no one being here at the moment?

You hesitated at the entrance once more, but wandered in all the same.

You came to the conclusion by the sight of the space someone else clearly lived here—or at least it wasn’t uninhabited for very long at a given time. Small collections of bottles, tinctures sat in clear view on a table. A large tome, some glimmering collection of metal ores and precious stones sat in clear view.

Your curiosity was rather good at getting the better of you—you didn’t notice the way a shadow from the deeper part of the cavern reached out behind you, many-limbed and wanting.

You shrieked in surprise as it did, as suddenly you were yanked back from the table, from the light, into the entryway into a deeper part of the cave, and a hand sealed itself over your mouth, muffling your surprised, frightened struggle against the arm that held you tight against a bare chest, that pinned your arms to you with surprising strength.

“Shhh little human.”

The voice was lilting, warm, even, as it tried to soothe you—as warm as his touch and the appendages that you knew even in the dark to be tentacles from how they felt, weaving around you in cautious but eager motions, suckers fluttering over the soft of your skin.

You squeaked behind his hand as one of those tentacles suddenly wormed its way up your inner thigh, and you squeezed your legs shut, trapping it in place, your heart pounding in a way that decidedly didn’t get soothed any by his laughter, by the way his tentacles now worked with a stronger want to feel every inch of your skin in a way that made you squirm, only at first in resistance.

“What’s such a pretty thing like you coming wandering into my home?” he hummed, idly, as though he’d forgotten that you can’t answer him with his hand over your mouth, leaving you to fight back a smile as his tentacles hit sensitive flesh, and fighting further to stifle your laughter and failing. “Are you h—” he paused, suddenly, his seductive question cut short and you knew you’d been caught, your grin beneath his hand growing as he freed your mouth. You were still trying to restrain yourself when he asked, incensed, “Are you laughing?”

“You’re the one tickling me!” you accused, giggling while you spoke—and as another one of his tentacles curled covetously over your collarbone to tease at the the tie of your swim top, you jolted. Another peal of laughter graced him from you while he shook his head, all amusement.

“You really are just the most sensitive creature alive,” he hummed, willing his body to pause in its exploration of you, but pressing affectionate kisses to your throat, your jaw, your cheek.

“You can’t judge me for it, Azul,” you played up the way you were whining, wriggling in his grasp, pouting. “I’m helpless, can’t you tell? It’s unfair.”

“Oh so now you want to play your role,” he hummed, a soft huff of laughter on his breath. “And you were the one saying you had difficulty getting immersed.” His faux petulance pulled another little stream of giggles, leading you to nuzzle a little more towards him, which he couldn’t help but smile at, pecking your lips before he asked, “Done being ticklish?”

“Only if you’re done tickling me,” you replied, and his hand slid back up to your cheek, turning you to look towards him, to let him run his thumb over your lips.

It felt strange, to see the way his expression morphed, trying to play into the role of the one who takes from others, the one who gets what he craves, hiding under myriad disguises his role as one who simmers in his wants when it comes to you.

“Such a sweet little thing, mm? Do all humans wander as much as you do?”

“I—I was curious.” It was funny—suddenly you did feel rather small. Something in his words, his tone, the way he was curled up all around you, touching you, clinging to you, covering as much as he could—it was a novel experience, feeling small, but it wasn’t a bad one by far, at least not with him.

Still, though, his displeasure, written plain on his face, made your heart twist—your excuse wasn’t good enough, clearly.

“And your curiosity lead you to intrude on my home.”

“I—I didn’t—”

“Surely you don’t believe me to be so stupid, do you?” he hummed, arching an eyebrow. “You’re not the first human to come here for one.”

“F-for—”

“A deal.”

All his tentacles pulsed around you at the word, drawing a gasp as they began moving again, some of the larger suckers now beginning to catch onto your skin as they held you still.

You drew in a sharp breath, feeling them begin to work marks onto you, flushing as you suddenly feel very much like prey in his grasp.

And for a moment, you stood just like that, trying to restrain the way you shivered at the movement of his tentacles, the intensity of his pretty blue gaze, the movement of his thumb over your lips, tried so very hard to settle back into the role you were playing, hold back on your want to kiss him. Only for him to suddenly pull away, releasing you from his grasp, save for one, solitary tentacle winding up your forearm. With a firm insistence, he dragged you through the water, further into the darkness of his home. Eventually, he stopped, your eyes adjusting enough to the lack of light to see that he had settled himself onto a worn-away hollow of rock, one that looked almost like a throne when he settled onto it. He pulled you over another couple steps, to allow you to settle onto another, smaller stone seat.

All the while, that tentacle remained curved on your arm like a shackle, trapping you before him as king when he asked, “You came here for a reason. I’m not so cruel as to turn you out for simply surprising me. So tell me what you want, and perhaps I can help you.”

Your heart pounded. It wasn’t a request, you knew that from the way the tentacle was wound around you. You were trapped by this point. Your gaze turned back to the light drifting lazily from the rest of the world in the main cavern, but you were anchored in your seat in the dark with him.

He could feel your pulse from where it was wrapped around your wrist, you knew it from how the sucker was fluttering over it, this close to trying to worry another mark onto your skin. He was smirking at you, waiting for you.

“There’s…there’s a man on the surface.” Your eyes flicked over to find him staring back at you, amusement written all over his face, an eyebrow arched, “He’s wonderful, and everything I could ever hope to love, but I know he doesn’t…I know he doesn’t see me. Not—not like that at least. I made a mistake in how I approached him at first and it—it colored everything wrong. I—I was hoping you would be able to help me get him to—to look at me.”

He hummed, tilting his head, considering you, your story—you could feel the way his gaze landed on you, making you squirm well before you met his eye. “You’ve exhausted every other option before coming to me, I assume?”

“I tried.”

“Well, he sounds like a waste of a man if he can’t—”

“No!” Your vehemence surprised him, but you stuck to it, looking down at your hands, “He’s—he’s smart, and he’s beautiful, and he’s so passionate about so much it makes me smile just to think of him, it…” You trail off, softening your voice, warming it when you meet his eye to murmur, “He means everything to me.”

It has the result you wanted. Even in the dim light, you could watch the splash of color paint his cheeks when he suddenly pieced together that you were talking about him. The slip doesn’t last, though it does make you have to stifle a giggle when he cleared his throat before saying, “Regardless, if the fool can’t even look at such a prize as you and see you, well. Is he even worth the trouble?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I had my doubts,” you answered, easily, and he hummed.

“Very well, then. I suppose if you’re so certain, then there needn’t be any hesitation on my part, either. So—in terms of payment for services to be rendered—”

“I have—”

He raised a hand, cutting you off. “I have no interest in any valuables—and I’m certain you could ascertain by now that I have no interest in surface dweller’s money. What I’m interested in is a service of your own.”

The confusion that fluttered over your expression seemed to please him. “What…service?” If it was something to be done down here, surely he has any number of merfolk as customers—did he need something from the surface?

The question brought a smile to his face, languid, relaxed, and a few more of his tentacles, eager in their intentions, began seeking where you sat, curling idly at your ankles, up your shins. “You see, I’ve always had some rather specific curiosities regarding humans, curiosities I believe you can provide an answer for.”

“You want…information?” The trade confused you, it seemed like such a light cost.

“In a manner of speaking, yes.” The answer would have come as far less confusing were it not for the way his touch squeezed at your limbs, covetously. “But what better way to learn than hands-on? What better way to satisfy one’s wants than to simply…touch?”

Your face dropped in realization. “Y-you mean…”

“In exchange for the adoration of your beloved on the surface, tonight, you’ll offer your body to me until I am entirely satisfied,” he murmured, his lips quirked as his eyes dragged over you. “In both my curiosity and in my…other wants.”

“Oth—oh.” You knew you were flushed at the implication, and he was grinning, playing his wicked role eagerly.

“Such a small price to pay, surely? After all, I have every intention of ensuring you enjoy it, too. And your lover, he would never have to know.”

You paused, trying to wrack your brain for anything else you could do, but he had laid his terms out plainly—if you wanted his help, he wouldn’t accept anything other than this, and you had no room to bargain.

In a flourish, he produced a piece of parchment and a pen for you. On it, written in a practiced hand, were the terms of your agreement, laid out plainly, in the same wording as before.

(You spotted the slight shake in his handwriting in an instant—he must have drafted this well before you’d come here for this, had he been excited at the time? As excited as you felt right now, having to stifle your smile?)

All you needed to do was sign…

But you paused before pen hit paper, and he sighed—you knew in an instant that he spotted your indecision. “It seems you’re hesitant after all.” Before you could blink, the contract was back in his possession, well out of reach as he wandered away towards some alcove deeper in his home. “I suppose you’ll simply have to wait for your clueless lover to finally piece his wits together—if he even does that. Such a shame.”

“W-wait!”

He paused, eyes tracing languidly back over towards you, over his shoulder, eyebrows raised gracefully. You clenched your jaw—he knew he had you, hook, line, and sinker.

Still—you didn’t have another choice.

“You’ll—you’ll listen to me if I tell you to stop?”

His eyes softened, no small shimmer of mercy from the one who just moments prior negotiated the price of your body. “Of course. I promise.” The words held weight, coming from him.

“And—you won’t hurt me?”

“I have no interest in hurting you. Quite the opposite.”

“…Give me the pen.”

And he was back in an instant by your side, contract detailing your deal opened to show its entirety. With one arm around you, he offered a pen, the other the paper.

Your eyes flitted over the words on the page once more as you slowly lifted the pen, and you, finding it to your satisfaction, signed your name.

And his smile only grew. “Thank you for your patronage.” As the contract was stolen away by one of his tentacles, the pen by the other, he took your hand in his to press his lips to your skin, leaving you shivering as he trailed his lips up. Only when he reached your shoulder did he murmur, “I believe I’ll be taking my payment now.”

He was on you in an instant again, a mirror to how he pulled you tight against him when he first saw you wandering about his home aimlessly, only this time, his hand had decided to busy itself to pulling at your clothes, untying things in a rush, all pretenses gone in favor of hunger in his touch. His tentacles were no less wanting, pulling at you, leaving more red marks up your legs and over your stomach as your shorts were shucked down and top untied and unwound from your body by his wanting hands, leaving you dizzy in the sudden way you were laid bare for him.

“Wait—,” your words choked in sensitivity as a tentacle traced over your collarbone, but to his credit, it took little more than that and a moment to process for him to pause, to give you the second it took you to draw in a shaky breath, look away and murmur, “P-please be gentle?”

He blinked, surprised by the request, but his scheming belied something warmer when he murmured, “As gentle as you like, pretty thing.” His hand caressed your cheek gently, guiding you to look back towards him—letting his lips meet yours.

His words and his actions felt separated, the way he kissed you every inch of that hunger that his stilled limbs no longer betrayed—you almost wanted to laugh, the role all but abandoned in favor of finally having what he wanted. You would have laughed were you not responding just as eagerly.

When finally he pulled away, your eyes fluttered as you leaned closer to him, leaned in for more, only to gasp when one of his tentacles made sudden, unapologetic contact with your inner thigh again. Only this time, the way your legs were already trapped made it impossible for you to shut them against the touch, only shiver as he trailed teasingly closer to his prize. His arm around you, trapping your arms tight against your body, left you helpless despite your struggling against him.

He could feel how your pulse raced when he pressed his lips to the skin of your throat, feel the way your head tilted to give him more access to trail kisses, to nip when his tentacle finally made contact with you, gliding smoothly up and down your heated core.

Your lips pressed tight together, muffling your whimper at your throat.

His response was immediate—his teeth sinking into your shoulder in warning, releasing that noise. He kissed the injury softly when his teeth released you, leaving you shivering in his hold, trying to press your hips closer to his touch. It was clear that he just wanted you to showcase every sound you make, to refuse to hide from him—just what he liked.

In spite of your own inability to do so without embarrassment melting you far too quickly into someone who wants to, needs to hide.

But the issue was, of course, that he offered you no way to hide. You were trapped, exposed for him—you were the focus of every one of his senses in the hopes of teasing you to the point of getting you shaking for him, exactly how you were.

So all your best intentions to mute the sounds of your enjoyment to him while he was focused on tormenting you were laid to waste the moment he made contact with your clit, leading you to gasp—and leading him to react, far too quick for you to counter in any way before two of his fingers were in your mouth, keeping it, keeping you open for him.

You whined at the sudden exposure, the realization you wouldn’t be able to hide half as easily anymore, and he, the picture of affection despite the debauched nature of what he was doing to you, pressed myriad kisses to your hair, your burning cheeks, your throat, while his tentacle kept swirling around your clit. The slow, measured pace which at first felt like too much on the little bud, slowly became too little—not nearly enough for you to be pushed anything closer to what you already felt yourself aching for.

You ran your tongue over his fingers, dipping between them for a tease, and you felt him shudder, the suckers that were on your body fluttering with the motion, before some few began to start focusing on leaving their marks.

You were going to have constellations of his touch left behind when he was done with you, stars for him to plot with only slightly apologetic kisses afterwards. But you couldn’t even care—not yet, at least. No, for the moment, you were too busy trying to aid that slippery tentacle over your clit, increase its lazy, idle pace. Another of his tentacles wound up your body, curling over one of your breasts to squeeze at you, playing with your nipple—you tried to arch more into his touch and his arm around your waist suddenly tightened, pinning you right back against him.

You whined pathetically against his fingers, and he couldn’t help but coo his sympathies in response, “Poor thing, is even this too much for you?” knowing full well the way you would wriggle, struggling to try and free your mouth enough to say every needy thing you were thinking, begging for.

It’s not enough. Please, more.

But his fingers stayed stubbornly rooted in your mouth, playing in the slick of your saliva, pinning your tongue into place much the same way he had pinned the rest of your body into place against him. Frustrating as he was, as his chuckles were, his touch was laden with affection, pressing kisses to your cheeks, your ear, your throat, his suckers dotting hungrily over your skin. Denying you any answer that might prompt him to pity, to offering you relief.

You knew you were shaking when one of his tentacles finally reached up to your core to start playing in your slick—you knew that you were wriggling your hips towards his touch, in spite of the way his strength pinned you back to him. You couldn’t help the soft, pleading noises leaving you, couldn’t help the way you struggled against his grip for more, couldn’t help listening to your body’s desperation.

You sucked in a breath when the tip of his tentacle dipped into you, freezing, hoping to coax him further into you.

Whether it was pity or him giving into temptation, he eased his way into you slowly, squeezing his way in through your slick, finally filling you.

All at once, the physical relief of simply that struck, feeling the way his tentacle moved inside you to better hit your sensitive spots, and you went lax, the way you writhed before reduced to placid shivering against him—a fact which left him pleased, if the way his lips curled at your shoulder was any indication.

“Yes…such a sweet thing,” he practically purred as you let him have his way, his steady pace over your clit, the new sensation of his tentacle lazily curling inside you, widening you, stroking incessantly over the sensitive spot inside you.

You whimpered and he hummed, softly, curling his limbs further around you, squeezing you like a breath, layering suckers over your nipples to taste your skin, and leaving you completely and utterly aware of but one thing—him. His touch, his voice, his teasing, him filling you up, playing with your clit in a way that shot sparks of pleasure up your spine.

You wanted to call his name, you wanted to kiss him.

You wished you could beg for him, but all you could do was lean into his lips when they touched your cheek, pouting, trying to catch his eye to plead for more..

Slowly, as he moved in and out of you, as he laved his touch over your clit, you could feel tension beginning to return to your body, winding you tighter and hotter, a coil in your belly you couldn’t ignore.

Couldn’t ignore, certainly, but couldn’t do much anything about, with how firmly he was holding you still.

You settled for whining against his fingers again, trying to writhe as he held you tighter, trying to moan, “More,” around his fingers, squeezing around the tentacle inside you.

And that he seemed to enjoy, you squeezing around him spurring new movement, a shaky noise against your skin as a moment of tension seemed to squeeze through him, too—betraying the simple fact that he was far more affected than his controlled motions seemed to suggest.

Still, though, you were beholden to his pace—beholden to the way he wanted to stretch every motion, every moment out. You were his, after all, were you not? His to play with, now that your name sat on that contract, promising him your body to explore, to tease, to fuck until satisfied.

You would have your pleasure. But this was about his enjoyment of it far more than your own experience.

And he was so enjoying your desperate, indistinct pleads.

Enjoying himself enough that before too long, you felt something new suddenly touching your skin, slapping hot and slick against your back with a low, pleased hum from Azul. His cock had finally worked itself free from his sheath, and was free to writhe against your lower back for some friction he sought out, too, subconsciously, his hips working to try and provide it.

The feeling made you shudder and clench around him, your eyes squeezing shut to block from your sight the vision of his smugness, his teasing.

“I suppose this is your first…encounter of this variety with my kind?” He didn’t wait for you to respond before continuing, “Cum for me, pretty thing, and you’ll get to have every inch of me, just like you want, mm?”

And like that his pace increased, over your clit, pistoning into you, pushing right up against your sweet spot.

You had no choice but to scream, to wail around his fingers’ best attempts to muffle you, though even those best attempts were withdrawn, letting you try and fail to muffle yourself.

He didn’t let you thrash too much against him, strong enough, content enough to pin you to him and hush you, soothingly. He enjoyed it, you knew, when you whined, when you tried to break free of his strength, when your head lolled to the side to let his lips take their fill of your skin.

He enjoyed the sounds you made all the more when he didn’t pull away after your orgasm settled and every touch became pleasure bordering on pain.

“A—ah—Azul it’s too much!”

The slight slip of your role in your desperation to be able to breathe again under the building wave of pleasure you were drowning in wasn’t met with acknowledgement, he was too busy grinning at the way you struggled against him, kissing at the tears that gathered, hot and sweet on your lashes.

You sobbed in your relief when he finally eased up, that tension disappearing, melting you against him as you shuddered through the remaining aftershocks.

Softly, you recognized the way he murmured, “So good,” against your skin.

For a time, this was all—simply him holding you, floating idly through the water as your head lolled back onto his shoulder, your eyes trying to flutter open.

His cock wriggling at your back, hungry for your attention.

“Azul.” Your whine of his name couldn’t keep him from humming out a soft laugh as he broke character, shifted his arm around you to let you lift your hand to card through his hair. It was calming to you, and a brief reminder, amid the broken character of just how easily he bent to your whims in the most adorable way.

You tugged him closer to nuzzle against his cheek, and he relished it, leaning into your affections like an anemone tugged by the force of the waves, rushing into your pull without thought or question.

At least, for a time, before he pressed a kiss to your forehead, and extricated your errant hand from his hair, pressing a kiss to your wrist before wrapping you back up in him.

“You’ve been so good for me,” he hummed, his eyes lidded, his grin regaining a touch of an edge, like a knife, like a promise. “You’ll have me, now.”

He shifted, repositioning you with his strength a little further up, giving his cock room to slip beneath you, wriggling eagerly against the sensitive skin of your heat. You flinched, and his lips were on your temple in an instant to murmur those same, soothing hushing sounds.

In time, you relaxed, drawing in shaky, excited breaths as his cock slowly began to push into you, the spade-shaped tip catching your breath as it slipped its way inside you.

“So good,” he murmured again, though his voice had grown taut in his restraint, in how cautiously he entered you, wanting to keep from causing any undue discomfort. You whined, wriggling in his grasp as best you could to tempt him further into you, his touch making you realize how empty you felt.

When at last he bottomed out, you breathed a sigh of relief, even as you tried to not twitch, squirming at the way his cock still moved inside you, instinct bidding it to seek more friction.

You squeezed around him and he gasped, softly—your own instincts pushing you now to press your lips to his heated skin, his jaw, his cheeks, his lips when finally he turned enough to let you and he melted.

You moaned, freely against his lips, as even just this, even just kissing seemed to send his cock writhing inside you for stimulation. Still, though, you tried to pin your focus on him—the way he melted even without you being able to touch him, even with every chance for him to turn the tables, have you weak, pliant against him, he let you have this. He wanted this, and you wanted to provide, you wanted to distract him from his chosen role.

Of course, he wouldn’t let himself be for long—wouldn’t let you tear his control of this, of you from his eager fingers for very long, grabbing your cheeks to pull your lips from his.

You pouted, whining your displeasure while your eyes fluttered open. He was panting for breath, but his limbs, shifting like the tides, curled covetously around you once more when he murmured, “You really are so sweet to me. Such a perfect little prize, aren’t you?”

One more, chaste kiss to your lips before he tilted your head back—and through the slight opening he negotiated of your jaw, one of his tentacles took advantage, prising your jaw open further and pushing its careful, slow way into your throat.

Vaguely, the taste of your own slick registered on your tongue, and you realized that this was the tentacle he had stuffed into you moments ago, and that knowledge had you clenching on his cock again as his tentacle began to move, thrusting in and out of your mouth, toying with your tongue. You whined—for want of kissing, for embarrassment, for need, it didn’t matter, the sound was torn from your throat regardless, and Azul soaked it in gladly, pressing kisses to the corner of your eye, hot with tears, to your cheek, hot with want, to your throat, your shoulder, each dotted with a gentle little, “Perfect,” possessive and pleased.

Your tongue traced over one of the suckers on the tentacle in your mouth and he shivered, his cock pulsing inside you. And just like that he began moving, sinking deeper into you, curling into you harder to feel the way you squeezed around him. And when that wasn’t enough, in his mind, his fingers which had been previously in your mouth moved down to your clit—you squealed around the tentacle in your mouth, but it just pushed further into you in careful measure—leaving you shaking in your effort to break free, though you had no results for how he held fast to you, not letting you escape the pleasure he was subjecting you to.

From the years you had been with him, you knew the signs that he was trying to hide, knew that he was closer to cumming than he hoped to be, weak in equal measure for you, and to how long he had been waiting to indulge himself in your body.

You tried to sink into the illusion he was hoping to put on, wriggling in his hold to keep him content with capturing you again and again, softly punishing each slight with further touch—a harsh squeeze to your breast, his pace over your clit intensified, the pace of his cock inside you slowing, a bite to your shoulder. Any of it, all of it combined to make you whine, moan, sob. All of it pushing you closer to your own orgasm once more.

“You were made for me, weren’t you?” The question was too hungry to be idle, to sound as teasing as he hoped—it was like he was licking his lips with just the thought. “So pretty, so soft, so wonderful.” He hummed, pressing another kiss to the crux of your shoulder and throat to feel you shiver in his arms. “Temptation has never looked so sweet as it looks on you. You were made for me to fill, you—” his fingers sped up over your clit and he sucked in a breath, released on a soft moan as you squeezed around him—and the thought occurred to him, “You were made to carry my babies, weren’t you?”

He moaned again, though the sound was equal parts pleasure and faux mourning, trailing off into a chuckle. “I don’t know how I’ll be able to let you go after this,” he hummed, the lightness of his voice a direct contrast to the heavy, wanting way his tentacles and arms clung to you, filling you, making it so all you could feel was him. “You started this for wanting a man on the shore, but surely he could never make you feel this good, mm? Ignoring you as he has? And you promised that you’d satisfy me—perhaps I’ll never be satisfied with you. Perhaps I’ll—” the same image sparked in his mind that choked his voice off into a moan, his cock pulsing in you before he finished, “Perhaps I’ll keep you here forever, fill you with my cum, keep you all to myself.” The idea had you whining—tightening around him in a way that made him moan, but not lose any of his pride in the way you melted for him. “You like that, do you?” he asked, and you tried to squirm away, or at least give some response, but his limbs held you in place, and the tentacle in your mouth seemed stubborn to steal all responses past weak whimpers. “What a treasure you are, so sweet. That fool on the surface has no idea what he’s missing.” Tears beaded in the corner of your eyes again for him to kiss as he purred out, “Are you close, darling?” Desperately, you nodded, moaning around his tentacle, a sound that choked out as it delved deeper into your throat. “Would you like me to make you cum?” You tried again, and the noise drawn from you as his tentacle began to pull back was nothing short of raw need. Infuriatingly he was still so composed.

His touch retreated from your clit and you thrashed, his tentacle pulling out from your mouth, letting you plead, incoherently, “Please please please please fuck—pleaseletmecum.” You couldn’t free your arms from his grasp, couldn’t touch yourself—you were at his mercy to touch your clit and draw you over the edge.

You stopped struggling when you heard him moan, and saw, over your shoulder, him sucking on his fingers, savoring your taste—you felt him pulse inside you and you knew he was so close.

You whimpered at the sight, the sensations, and he opened his eyes, letting his fingers slip out teasingly before his hand caressed your cheek, saliva still hot on your skin while his hand kept your gaze pinned on him.

“What would you give me if I did?” his voice was heady when he spoke and you let yourself get drunk on it.

“Anything.”

He grinned, and it was like his eyes glowed, knowing he had you cornered. “Such a shame I couldn’t get that on paper…another time, perhaps.”

Part of you, terrified that he meant your orgasm would be delayed, forced you to take a breath, to try and plead your case, to beg for him—only for all that air to be choked still as you felt the tentacle previously in your mouth, still hot and slick with your saliva, make contact with your clit.

That glee lit up his expression again when he murmured, “Cum for me.”

It barely took any movement on his part over your core for him to send you over the edge, all but screaming at the sensation.

Your core squeezed around him, and his body squeezed back, leaving mark after mark over your legs, your chest, your stomach, everywhere he had layered his touch.

Now, though, his hips began to work, holding you in place providing the best possible leverage for him to thrust into you, sink you further onto him while he worked over your clit.

You didn’t even try to fight the overwhelmed sensation of your body sinking to his every demand despite the way you thrashed. You didn’t tell him when you began to get overstimulated, you wanted to feel that little sharp sensation of too much while he chased his own pleasure. You wanted him, and he gave himself to you fully, a curse abbreviated by his teeth sinking into the skin of your shoulder, hoping to contain his moans.

Spurts of heat slowly began to fill you as his cock twitched hard, jolting inside you as he fell into his pleasure. You squeezed around him instinctively in response and he gasped, all his limbs curling a little tighter, a little closer.

It ended on that moment, the short, magical scene you had written for yourself. It was done, and he was curled around you, shivering, clinging for a comforting spell where it was simply you and him, floating from the endorphins. It was another short moment before he felt himself enough to begin dragging you both towards the soft alcove serving as his bed, still inside you while turned you around, guided you to lay on him, to stay close to him as his tentacles reached out, still active enough to tidy up as much as possible. Tucking your discarded swimsuit close-by for you when you needed to get dressed, grabbing at the faux contract to remember to dispose of it later.

And then all his focus was on you as you flinched when his cock slipped out of you, returning to its internal sheath. “Are you alright?” You hummed an affirmative, drawing closer to him, lifting your arms up to wrap around him, wanting to get your fill of finally being able to touch him, to cling to him, as opposed to being clung to, sinking into the warmth of his skin.

His hand traced up and down your spine slowly. “My pearl, so sweet to me.”

“I’ll bite you,” you mumbled, flustered at the praise even with your face half-buried in his chest—it just meant you could feel the way his laughter buzzed through him. “Now that you’re not in my throat.”

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No,” you replied, easily. “If I need a few cough drops tomorrow I’ll take ‘em.” You grinned, slyly, tilting your head up to make eye contact with him. “Worth it.”

Now it was his turn to shy away from your flirting. “If you need a few cough drops tomorrow I’ll see if I can make something better for you.”

“For a price?” you teased at him for the role he played, the role he still plays for all of creation but you and a select few others.

“For you, nothing at all…though perhaps a few more kisses.” You smiled, starting on your debt, kissing over his chest affectionately as his hand reached up to where he stowed away the prop contract, far from anything actually bound to his magic, looking over it again idly and barked out a laugh. “You actually signed your name.”

Your eyes flicked up from your business kissing at his skin. “Mm-hm.”

“You know I could have made this an actual contract. What would you have done then?”

Your eyebrow quirked at the dare in his voice. “Oh no, you’d have to promise to make yourself love me in exchange for wild sex, whatever would you do?” you laughed. “I did read it over, love, I know better than to just sign something, even if it is a scene with you.”

His eyes warmed with a flash that looked almost like pride before one of his tentacles curled around your calf, his fingers beginning to trace idle, meandering circles up the skin of your back. “I believe the worry is more for you, dearest—you signed a document with your real name, therefore, you promised to stay here until you satisfy me fully.”

The teasing in his tone wasn’t missed��you imagined he expected you to flush at the implication, at the imagining of a long night spent with you wrapped up in him, his touch everywhere, overwhelming you in the best possible way.

He seemed to underestimate how much you wanted that.

You slowly curled yourself up onto shaky hands and knees to crawl a step or two up before you settled onto his lap, throwing your arms over his shoulders before you pouted, “Are you not satisfied?” You tried not to smirk at the way color once again flooded his cheeks after a moment of processing your question, at the way his brain stalled having you so close yet again. His hands found their place on your hips out of instinct, his tentacles beginning to curl their own way over your body again as you leaned down, tracing your nose over his throat, prompting him to tilt his head to the side, exposing more of himself. “Do you want more, Azul?” A kiss on his jaw, another on his pulse to feel the way it fluttered, you let yourself be pulled back slightly as one of his tentacles wrapped around you, coiling around your torso, up between your breasts, over your collarbone, his suckers fluttering over you, tasting you, marking you again. You let him recover for a spare moment, lifting the end of his tentacle to press a soft kiss to it.

You opened your eyes to see his pinned to you. “You are…” he trailed off on a laugh, reaching up to trace a hand over your throat up to your cheek for you to lean into. “You are a temptation.”

“Is that a nicer way of saying I’m a menace?”

“No. It’s entirely separate.” You laughed, and he lit up, reaching to pull you down again as his touch layered over your body, intent on holding you close while he kissed you—soft, warm, all the love in his eyes just for you.

And all his attention content to be pinned on you for a little while longer.

[uyachil-oar-blog]

‼️ NSFW warning !!

If you can't accept Telemachus x Antinous (Telemachus tops), don't see p3~p5

(Also I had references while doing P5! )

[atomicwrite]

🎀 [NSFW] F!Reader x Shadow the Hedgehog

This is a request I received on Wattpad long ago ;; ♡

♡

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Req.: F!Reader x Shadow the Hedgehog - what if he has some alone time with you?

Reader is always Mobian and 18+!

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English is not my first language, I apologize for improper grammar and mistakes! ;v;

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⚠ Warnings: NSFW; suggestive content

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(Small note: reader is a cartographer for missions!)

You were sitting at your desk, your working room was dimly lit from the lantern you had hanging up behind you, drawing a map for a new mission you all will attend to while thoroughly examining the sketch snippets Rouge gave you.

With all your attention being drawn to that tiny piece of paper between your two fingers, you clearly didn't notice how someone entered the room, obviously careful not to make any noises to startle you.

You let out a soft sigh, putting the feather tip back into the tiny ink pot next to your map and awarded yourself with a nice little stretch.

"What are you doing?" You heard, felt, someone say, as they clearly brushed against the fluff of your ear.

Almost immediately, you flinched and let out a tiny gasp, your cold hands covering your ears as (e/c) orbs finally wandered up to meet crimson ones.

You continued to look into Shadow's eyes, almost as if they pull you into an infinite trance.

"N-nothing important..."

He noticed your embarrassment and chuckled slightly,

"Oh? You have such sensitive ears? I apologize, I", Shadow smirked and took ahold of one of your hand to uncover your ear and leaned down to whisper, "did not know. Not at all."

Initially, he came here to inform you about the mission, but now that you were looking at him with such an adorable and innocent expression, he couldn't resist to tease and play with you a little more.

Without a warning, his other hand slowly reached up to touch your delicate tail, gently rubbing it between his gloved fingertips.

"Sha-Shadow..."

You shivered in pleasure as you felt his warm fingers running on the tip of your tail before he stopped there and looked back at you,

"Cute. The noises you make... they sound so inappropriate."

Your face flushed red, whimpering as he began to trail his fingers down your tail, and, to your surprise, stopped right above your most sensitive spot. He gave your tail a gentle squeeze, eliciting a low moan from your lips which only made him grin.

You suddenly felt so small and devoted to him, as if you were no longer in control of anything anymore. As if he knew what you wanted better than you do.

It was a very intoxicating feeling, and it made you blush like crazy.

You didn't really mind, though.

"Hmhm~" He hummed, his thumb caressing over that very same spot before traveling lower, touching along your tailbone.

It was hard to think straight as your mind was clouded with an unknown feeling, one you've never encountered in this world or the last. It was like a warm fire burning inside you, spreading across your body like magic.

"Can't wait to hear what other cute noises you make."

His strong hands took ahold of your waist, pulling you up so he could make you sit down on the desk.

Shadow leaned down even more and took the side of your ear between both his lips, sucking on it gently before teasingly nibbling on it.

Your body felt like it was going numb from the sudden rush of pleasure you experienced in the matter of seconds, not even able to move or react as he started kissing your neck, making you moan softly as his lips trailed further down your throat until he reached your collarbone. His hands slowly lifted up your dress/shirt as he kept planting kisses on your sensitive skin/fur.

He moved on after that, kissing his way down your chest, leaving hot kisses down your stomach as you shivered from the strange sensation of his tongue running across your belly, causing you to breathe heavily, your eyes closed tightly.

It wasn't long before he finally reached your thigh, his soft kiss making you grip onto your desk as he continued to tease you.

"Mmhm..." He moaned and nipped lightly at your inner thigh, "So, I'm guessing this is where you get off."

You gasped and stuttered, unable to form words.

Shadow chuckled huskily, continuing his assault on your thighs, "You're so very cute when you blush. You should probably stop that though, because it's really distracting me."

He looked up at you as he pressed a finger inside you, letting out a pleased hum as he added another one, fucking you slow but deep with his fingers.

"H-How many fingers do you have...?" You managed to mumble through your pants, only to feel him chuckle again, "Just three. And judging by how good you are taking them, I'd say you love having my fingers inside you."

"Y-Yes..." You breathed, feeling his thumb run along your clit, causing you to shudder.

He kept going, pushing his fingers deeper inside you and then pulling them out before repeating the process over and over again, faster each time he went in and faster every time he pulled away until he finally gave you a few hard thrusts, burying his face into your mound and licking at your sensitive bud.

The combination of his tongue and his fingers made you lose your mind, moaning a little louder and shaking uncontrollably as he continued to play with you.

"Ah! Ah! Mmhmm...!" You shyly cried out, your hips buckling as you came, panting heavily as Shadow rubbed your clit with his thumb, making you tighten around his fingers.

Everything was so embarrassing and exciting at once, but at the same time, he seemed so calm and determined, as if nothing could stop him from getting his way. And somehow, he had this aura about himself that just made you want to obey him without hesitation.

When Shadow suddenly yanked his fingers out, making you whimper, you looked up at him and saw a smug smile on his face.

"I think I'll call this one 'the bingo'."

He said, standing up and walking towards the door,

"We're going to be late if we don't leave now."

His voice was stern and firm, but there was still a hint of playful curiosity in his tone. His gaze told you everything, and you knew he would be having fun with you for the rest of the day.

After he walked out of the room, you sit there, completely drained from the intense orgasm he just brought upon you.

[thotinshield]

Happy Pride Month?

“I wish you would heed my words more,” Bilbo said, hoping those words would be the right mixture. Not too harsh but still hitting on the issue that he felt. He needed Thorin to listen to him. Thorin met his eyes as he finished his last spoonful. “I have taken the time to hear you now, have I not?” “Yes, of course,” Bilbo hesitated before he placed his hand on Thorin’s knee. “Though I practically had to drag you here. You… should not overwork yourself, my king.” The last two words left a taste of wrong, wrong, wrong on his tongue. “You have finished your meal, yet we still have ample time. Lay with me.” There was a pause between them, as Thorin searched Bilbo’s face. Bilbo held his gaze, but noticed the flush crawling up Thorin’s neck and decorating his cheeks in a delightful way. Thorin’s mouth opened a sliver, though if he had words to say they seemed to catch in his throat as he stared at Bilbo. It took the hobbit a moment longer to connect the dots between Thorin’s blush and what he had just said. “Oh, no, that’s not what I– I mean, I simply thought we should… rest.”

[mismagireve]

She had asked him once if his impassioned hatred for her was genuine or if he was merely overcompensating for a hidden desire to lie with her.  The Heavens had erupted with the flames of his rage for hours upon end, but he never actually did answer the question. In these, his darkest and most shameful moments, Imperius pondered the answer. Did he?

This has been in my drafts for over a year but almost 6k words later here's more Imperius smut, now featuring weird music sex.

[missanthropicprinciple]

[Newmann calculator smut]

[lady-z-writes]

Billy Butcher x you

"Ohh no ya don't. You get the lowest setting, and you're gonna be fuckin' grateful for it."

He turns the vibrator on with a push of the button, pressing himself over you and pinning your hands above your head. His other hand snakes in between you, guiding the double stimulator.

It feels like a dream. Feels like grace.

And all you can do is grip his shoulders and pray you make it through this fling without falling in love with the idiot.

[hellcheerficdatabase]

Office Hours

Author: @canadianmaebe, @hunter-gatherer-stuff

Rating/Warning: Explicit

Chapter Count: 12/12

Description:

As soon as Chrissy had started sitting at the front of his class and paying more attention to his body rather than the lessons he was giving, he knew only two things would come from this if he let his guard down;

1) That her GPA was going to get worse and worse; and

2) He was going to fuck her stupid.

Tags: Alternate Universe- no vecna, modern au, age difference, Professor!Eddie, Student!Chrissy, consensual power dynamic, teasing, jealousy, this is smut, like wow, it's so fucking hot, smut, I made the moodboard, Eddie is fucked, Eddie POV, multiple chapters, status: completed

[omegaverse-anesthesiologist]

why is ao3 is blocked on the hospital wifi????

[baobei-bu]

happy halloween

[sqoa]

“it’s not that bad, baby, can’t we just try again?”

virgin!satoru looks up at you from where his chin rests on your stomach, though you aren’t sure you can call him a virgin anymore. he holds your thighs apart, your sore pussy on sweet display for him. he presses a gentle kiss to your clit, which pulls a moan from you, but you stand strong.

“no way,” you shake your head. “absolutely fucking not. you’re… way too big.”

satoru grins, “thank you!”

“i’m not complimenting you, asshole,” you try and shift away from him, but gojo has your hips pressed into the mattress. “it hurts, toru. it’s too much.”

another kiss to your clit. “but she’s so needy for me,” he whines. “cant you see? so fucking wet… she can take me.”

“i can’t. it won’t fit.”

you didn’t think his pretty baby-blues could darken, but they do. satoru, your sweetheart, nips at your clit—only barely, but enough to make you gasp.

“you will,” he says, voice low. “i’ll make it fit.”

you can’t deny it, his tone only makes you even needier. you write under his grip, and his tongue darts out to lick his lips—he’s appraising you, studying his prey before bouncing. and he’s the virgin.

“oh, and after i fuck you, can we go get sushi?”

you blink at him. “what?”

“you know,” he scoots himself up and taps the head of his aching cock against your clit a few times. “to celebrate making it fit.”