#the cream with fur one. yes.

[mielplante]

cowboy doodle !! 💥

[bakatenshii]

can we revive trendy baka for a Christmas haul ❤️❤️

AahhHHH I DIDN’T BUY ANYTHING FOR CHRISTMAS!! my family nd I have been vvvv lowkey (and we also got snowed in for like 2 weeks) so we didn’t do gifts this year hehe BUT I CAN SHARE SOME RECENT PURCHASES?

[crushmeeren]

࿐ part one of my kinktober series! Hoshina’s version can be found here! enjoy little bats!

࿐ master list link ⇢ ⇢ ⇢ ⋆ FEM READER ⋆

⋆ ⬪ KINKS INCLUDED ࿐ knotting, breeding, scent kink, biting/marking, fighting as foreplay, a/b/o dynamics, praise kink, mentions of blood, mentions of reader becoming pregnant.

┊ ༝ ᭝ ༝ short summary ༝ ᭝ ༝ ┊ ‣ ‣ ‣ ‣ You’ve danced around each other since you were kids. It didn’t start as something romantic, no, it only developed into something more when you turned into teenagers. Once you both reached 21, it’s no secret who you’re deliriously hoping will pin you down during your first, and only, mating run.

⇣ ⇣ ༄ ⇣ ⇣ ⇣ ༄ ⇣ ⇣

You were six the first time you heard Katsuki. Yes heard, not met.

You vividly recall how purple and blue chalk had stained your knees. That it had dusted the fraying hem of your jean shorts like snow as you scribbled pictures as fast as your chubby hands would allow. The concrete of your driveway was filled with your imagination when their car pulled into the house across the street.

Your ears had twitched and perked up when a car door slammed shut. But it was the furious shouting and growling of a small boy that captured the entirety of your attention. An answering warning snarl radiated from the woman standing before him and that piqued your interest even further.

You took a break from, what you would call your masterpiece, and tilted your head to the side as you spotted a young blonde boy with gravity defying spiky hair, close to you in age, stomping his foot, baring tiny canines, and pointing furiously at who you assumed was his mother. After all, he did look like the miniature version of her and her face was pinched with the same anger that he displayed.

You studied them curiously as they screamed at each other when a man with the same crazy hair stepped in between them to calm the situation. You startled suddenly, chalk slipping from your fingers when your mom called your name, and causing the blonde’s scowl to turn your direction instead. Unsure of what else to do, you raised your chalk covered hand and waved tentatively, a shy smile curling your lips and showing off your own premature fangs.

His frown rooted even deeper into his expression in response. Your sharp vision had allowed you to watch as his cheeks turned pink and splotchy from the unexpected attention you gave him. You grinned a bit wider and he abruptly raised his tiny hand to flip you off before spinning and storming towards his front door. His mother had choked on her next breath and screeched “Katsuki you little shit! Don’t you have any manners?!”

His rude behavior should’ve offended you, but instead it made you laugh so hard that your little belly started to cramp and your own face burned with delight. Safe to say you were, for lack of a better word, excited to get to know the new wolf that just moved in.

When your parents introduced you later on, you became fast friends. As brash and nasty as his attitude was, you were able to see the kinder side of him on occasion. You also couldn’t deny that he was unfairly entertaining, even on his worst days.

You both shared similar interests, and he was so cool in your eyes that you were more enamored with him than the sticky mud you both used to make pies with after it rained. Not to mention he always smelled of caramel, which you loved. It reminded you of the first bite of freezing vanilla ice cream with warm caramel syrup drizzled on top.

As you got a bit older, you were allowed to start shifting together. As wolves you’d explore the dense forest behind your home every weekend when the moon was high in the sky. You’d wrestle, playfully chasing and hunting rabbits until your paws hurt. Then you’d take a dip in the chilly creek until your fur hung heavy and was soaked through to the bone. They were, without a doubt, the best moments of your young life.

Reaching your teen years, however, was….different. Your parents took great care and time to teach you about your secondary dynamic. About alphas, betas, omegas, how they all related to one another. About heats and ruts and mates. It was overwhelming at first, but it did help you make sense of the rapidly evolving feelings you were harboring for your best friend. Nevertheless, you continued to take on life side by side with Katsuki.

When you were 16, you presented as an omega. Katsuki was an alpha, and truly you couldn’t even be surprised by the news. What you weren’t expecting was just how intense your feelings got for him after that, how much more powerful and attractive his scent had turned. You were aware you were in love with him by that point, but once you both presented Katsuki wouldn’t leave your side for a single second.

And then late one night he snuck into your bedroom through the window and confessed his feelings with a bright, rare blush of embarrassment on his face and kissed you until you couldn’t breathe. You’d been together ever since. That was five years ago, give or take.

⇣ ⇣ ⇣

Mating runs are traditional for werewolves in your small home town. Once you reach 21, you’re able to participate in one to officially become part of a mated pair. It could be with someone who you’ve only just met, someone from a long term relationship, or anyone in between.

Four times a year, during a full moon, the mating run takes place. It begins in the clearing at the edge of the forest just outside your town and ends at sunrise or once you’ve been pinned down and knotted by your chosen mate. The omegas take off first, then the alphas shortly after.

The heart pumping thrill of being hunted is what pushes you at a breakneck pace now. The bite of autumn wind whips through your fur, but it’s lost to the heat of adrenaline. You dig your claws into the earth each time your paws make contact to send yourself full throttle even further into the forest. You made sure Katsuki was aware you wouldn’t let him catch you so easily.

Seeing in the dark is an advantage, allowing you to dodge trees and jump over obstacles. The muscles in your hind legs clench and propel you over a decent sized log, which inadvertently lands you in a small creek. You create a decent splash on impact and pause only for a moment to get a much needed drink when a set of thundering paws echoes in the distance.

You huff irritably. You stopped for only few seconds, how the hell has Katsuki caught up to you already? You should’ve known better than to assume you could rest at all. Once more you begin sprinting in the opposite direction of your soon to be mate.

Your pulse skyrockets and a yip of excitement escapes you before you manage to reign it in. Katsuki’s answering excited howl sends a shiver down your spine. Now, you’re able to catch stronger whiffs of singed caramel as he closes in. His scent only tinges burnt when he’s riled up.

You burst through a line of trees, skidding to a halt and kicking up dirt in a small field. You whip around to wait for him, panting harshly to catch your breath. Sure enough, within seconds, a huge sandy colored wolf explodes into the clearing, slowing to a trot and halting about 15 feet away.

Tail wagging vigorously, you press your front half to the forest floor, snarling playfully and snapping your jaws in invitation. You’re ready to fight. Katsuki huffs in a way that mimics amused laughter and answers you with a deep rumble of his own, mirroring your position. You pretend you’re about pounce, but fake him out by twisting and taking off like a shot.

You only cover a pathetic few feet of ground when a bag of bricks hits your side, tackling you into the dirt with no mercy. The air’s knocked from your lungs when you land, and the two of you begin to roll as you try to end up on top. Katsuki snaps his teeth too close to your ear for comfort and you sneak your hind paws underneath to kick violently at his belly.

The push knocks his balance off center and you take advantage of the slight window to slip out from underneath him. Standing, you shake out your fur but then razor blade teeth close on your back leg and yank until you fall to the floor. A startled yelp rings free and you twist to the best of your ability to try and rip a chunk out of Katsuki’s fluffy ear.

Katsuki’s chest rumbles teasingly, dodging your retaliation, and spicy warm caramel floods your nose. Your furious growling tapers off into a whine the more the air fills with his scent. You tug your leg petulantly, but a warning snarl from Katsuki has you sinking into the forest floor in defeat.

Katsuki yips happily and releases you, allowing you to roll over and show him your belly as a sign that he’s caught you and of your trust in him. The ash blonde wolf shifts to hover over you and bends to gently to place his jaws around your throat, applying just enough pressure to spike your heart rate.

With practiced ease and only a minimal amount of pain, you shift until your fur is replaced by bare skin, damp grass tickling your back. Katsuki releases his hold and stares down at you, ruby eyes shining. Your lips curve into a smile and you reach up to pet the soft fur on his head and nose. Your mate licks your hand once, causing you to laugh, before joining you seconds later.

He rests his hands by your head instead of paws and straddles your naked waist. His cock is already partially filled out and resting on your stomach when he smirks down at you, an air of infuriating arrogance surrounding him.

“Thought you were gonna make it difficult for me to catch you,” he teases with a husky tone, leaning down to mouth at the scent gland under your jaw. “You taste so fuckin’ good baby, I’m gonna to eat you alive.”

The noise Katsuki makes stands at the edge of a whine when he drags his tongue over your pulse point, dick twitching with interest. You moan softly, fingers threading through thick golden hair, and you bend your neck to expose even more skin to him.

“Yeah,” you breathe, pride welling up in your chest as your eyes flutter shut. “I knew you’d catch me Katsuki. You’re the strongest alpha after all, and you’re mine.”

Katsuki’s chest vibrates with approval, nipping harshly and sucking a mark into the hollow of your throat. It aches dully and you squeeze your thighs together, a feverish heat starting to consume you wholly.

“Such a pretty girl, sweet fuckin’ omega, all for me yeah?”

“Forever Katsuki,” you confirm. “I’m your omega, your mate until we die. So claim me the way we both want, please.” You tug desperately at his hair until his mouth is a hair’s width away from yours, gaze half lidded and starving.

It takes absolutely nothing else to bring the two of you into a sloppy, heated kiss. Your pussy clenches when one of his hands sneaks down to grab a handful of your tit, squeezing and pinching your nipple.

Your lips part and Katsuki eagerly pushes his warm tongue into your mouth. The rhythmic, slick glide has your lower half weeping for his attention. A molten type of heat burns low in your gut and your inner thighs have gone slippery as your mate works you up to an unbearable degree.

You suck on Katsuki’s tongue and his breath hitches before he releases it as a breathy moan, cock fully swollen and throbbing repeatedly. You squirm under him impatiently, noticing the precum gathering near your bellybutton. You trap the tip of his tongue between your teeth and bite mischievously.

He pulls back to glare halfheartedly at you, and the look on his face is blazing, pupils wildly dilated and cheeks flushed beyond compare. You can tell he wants to devour you and you need it just as badly. He chews his bottom lip, gaze trailing over your tits and flickering back to your face as your own cheeks burst into flames. Your blush is so violent it burns your eyes.

Katsuki starts shifting backwards until he can get between your thighs, brushing his lips down your sternum and sucking briefly on your nipple.

“I’m gonna eat this fuckin’ pussy, okay sweetheart?” He noses at your hip bone, stopping to inhale deeply at the crease of your thigh, groaning as his eyes shut. “Then I’m gonna knot you and you’re not fuckin’ leavin’ until you’re full with my pups, you hear me?” He asks hotly.

Your head tilts to the sky with a whine, something like electricity running through your blood. You fist his hair and pull restlessly. “Jesus Katsuki, stop fucking talking and do it.”

Katsuki laughs, voice full of amusement. “You’re lucky I like when you’re bitchy.”

He doesn’t waste another moment, parting the soft lips of your pussy by dragging his tongue upwards until he can circle your clit a few times. The next lick has you fighting for air, muscles jumping as your skull digs into the surface below. He repeats the action multiple times and then places the flat of his tongue on your swollen clit, shifting his head side to side.

The cry of his name gets stuck in your chest when sucks on your clit for the first time, the rolling wave of pleasure branching from your pelvis outwards. You can’t take much more, the animalistic instinct in the back of your mind making it seem as if you’ll die if you don’t take his knot soon.

You push at his forehead, asking for his attention. “Katsuki, c’mon, knot me already,” you plead to no avail. He pulls away by an inch and grins coyly at you.

“Nah, you’re cummin’ like this because I’m telling you to. Then I’ll knot ya, ya spoiled little princess.”

“At least use your fingers then!”

“Hell no! You’re not cummin’ with anything inside you unless it’s my cock.”

Releasing his hair, you push up to your elbows and pout to help persuade your case, but he doesn’t pay you any mind. Katsuki sinks his nails into your inner thighs and your brain fills with cotton when his tongue returns to play with your clit. His heavy lidded stare makes you shiver and the way he eats you out is so obscene you can’t help but squeeze your eyes shut when you cum.

Katsuki lets his tongue spread you open and lazily gather every drop of your orgasm until his spit is all that remains. He raises up to sit on his heels, and the moonlight highlights the way his chin shines because of you. An intense pulse of affection accompanies the thought of how breathtaking your mate really is.

Katsuki smoothes his palms up your thighs, over your belly and trails them up your rib cage before coming back down to squeeze your hips. You shift to sit up and lean in to brush your lips gingerly with his and then Katsuki presses back into it even harder. Demanding fingers grip your jaw and break your kiss. Katsuki peers at you, smirking and rubbing a thumb over your jawline.

“Turn over,” he murmurs, tone smooth like whiskey. A thrill races through you at the command and in the blink of an eye your cheek is squished into the grass, elbows resting by your head, and your ass is high in the air, presenting for him like you’ve wanted to all. damn. night.

The thick, blunt tip of Katsuki’s cock nudges against you, but he doesn’t allow it to catch. You jolt in surprise when he slides over your the rim of your ass instead, toes curling with anticipation.

You whine loudly in protest and Katsuki croons softly to you, relaxing some of your tense muscles. He lets out a deep rumble of approval and places a hand on your tailbone to guide your hips backwards. You’re panting when he finally slides halfway in, moaning in relief from the stretch.

“Katsuki.”

He hums distractedly, holding tight to your hips and rocking his hips shallowly until his cocks fit snug inside, balls pressed against you.

“I love you,” you manage to say, breath catching in your throat when he pulls his hips back and then thrusts back in fluidly.

“I love you, more than anything,” Katsuki promises, tone so sincere you have to shut your eyes in the face of it. He knocks your knees further apart, curling over your back and searches for your hands. His long fingers lace through yours and your spine curves even deeper as he pins you in place.

There’s not much talking after that. You’re too focused on the delicious drag of his cock in and out of your pussy, carving out a space made just for him. He fits inside you perfectly and goosebumps litter your skin each time he makes you remember. Sweat beads swiftly in the valley of your breasts and dirt paints your cheek as you rock with each of Katsuki’s deliberate thrusts.

You scent must be suffocating him because he’s sniffing the back of your neck and whining every other breath. It’s all the same to you because you’re drowning in caramel and the sound of your mate’s hips bouncing frantically off your ass is quite literally the loudest noise surrounding you.

Your gut clenches tight, tight, tight and you’re so close you can’t fucking stand it.

“You’re gonna make me cum! Knot me Katsuki, please!” You manage to untangle one of your hands and reach backwards to push at his stomach, the muscles straining and rolling under your touch.

He moves with you easily and snickers in your ear. Warm breath tickles your nape and your gums start to ache, the omegan urge to tear into his neck and claim him mercilessly grows stronger by the second.

“Yeah? Think your pretty little pussy is ready for my knot sweetheart?” Katsuki huffs between words and then out of nowhere he’s unsticking himself from your back and settling on his calves, cocking slipping free. You’re furious, glaring at him over your shoulder and curling your lip into a snarl.

“What the hell Katsuki!” You whip around to face him fully and shove at his chest. Katsuki rolls his eyes and snags your wrist, yanking you forward so you have to catch yourself on his shoulders. He grabs your waist and forces you to walk on your knees until you’re hovering over his lap.

“I’ve been waitin’ for this fuckin’ moment my entire life. There’s no way in hell I’m knottin’ you without being able to see the sweet expressions you’re gonna make.”

Your eyes widen and your lips part slightly, but before you can answer he’s applying pressure to your hips and helping you sink back down onto his still stiff dick. You moan his name, pressing your sweaty forehead to his and huffing hotly against his mouth.

True to his words, his knot’s begun to swell. It presses against your pussy, begging to pop inside each time you sit down. You ride him roughly, nails sharpening into claws without your permission and breaking the skin on your mates shoulders. Katsuki inhales sharply and howls briefly in excitement.

His canines start to stretch even longer and, with a burst of caramel scent so thick you can taste it, he bullies you down onto his knot. It burns, but the coil that’s been building steadily in your gut breaks then, flooding your limbs with heat.

You all but sob as you cum, claws carving into the base of his skull as he surges forward and sinks his teeth into the mating gland at the junction of your neck and shoulder. Your wail is earsplitting when Katsuki digs those razor like teeth in even harder. His cock throbs, filling you with hot, sticky cum. It rips another orgasm out of you, pussy absolutely choking his knot.

“Katsuki let go!” You’re thrashing, speaking through gritted teeth. “I need to bite you, please!” Your voice is hoarse and wrecked, rising anxiously as you struggle to get free. His scent is so potent it’s making you dizzy.

Your mate groans lowly, finally unhinging his jaw with a heavy purr rattling throughout his chest and tightly grips the base of your neck. Blood trickles down his chin and he shoves your face into his throat, unable to give a single fuck about anything else but being claimed by you.

“Bite me, omega. Make me your mate.”

You moan deliriously, eyes stinging with relief as your teeth cut through his skin like butter and pierce his mating glad, a metallic and overwhelmingly caramel taste floods your mouth.

Katsuki’s cock kicks yet again and he growls hotly, locking his arms around your waist to still your squirming. The muscle in your jaw flexes, allowing your teeth to sink in deeper and his growl abruptly cuts off into a high pitched whimper.

Your mate’s chest heaves from the toll your bite is taking, and you release your jaw unhurriedly to draw it out for as long as he’ll allow. You lick over the wound a few times to help cease the blood flow and Katsuki shivers. Gingerly he shifts your arms up to wrap around his neck and he instructs you to hang on.

He delicately lowers the two of you to the ground, resting on his back so his chest becomes a cushion for your exhausted body while you wait for his knot to go down.

“That’s right, such a good girl. You take my knot so fuckin’ well, you’re incredible. You look stunning with my bite,” Katsuki praises, chest rumbling gently. The soothing sensation of it starts to make you drowsy. He rubs your back lazily as he speaks and you both start to come down from the high.

You purr delightedly, unable to resist teasing him even as your eyes get droopy. Your heart’s complete now. “You look even more gorgeous with my bite, Katsuki.”

He scoffs, pinching your hip playfully, and you purposefully clench around his knot in response. It rips a startled gasp from him and you giggle.

“I have a fuckin’ tease for a mate,” he sulks, letting his head thump onto the dirt floor below. You sound unbearably smug when you reply.

“Yeah well, you better get used to it baby. You’re stuck with me forever now, whether you want to or not.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I wouldn’t want any other omega in the fuckin’ world anyways, idiot.”

About a month later, when you tell Katsuki you’re pregnant, the corners of his eyes crinkle as he grins proudly, saying “told ya you weren’t leaving that clearing until you were knocked up with my pups.”

[kteezy997]

The Candy Man-Part One// W.W.

Warnings: Smut, mention of masturbation, male receiving oral sex, virgin Wonka, cowgirl, missionary, some dirty talk, curse words, cream pie, female receiving oral sex, oh and cheating on spouse A/n: I have not seen Wonka yet, so there are NO spoilers here!

As a young housewife, there wasn't much for you to do. You had done the housework for the week and done all the grocery shopping, and it was only Wednesday. This would make for a long, boring week.

It would be different if you had a child to look after, but sadly, that hadn't happened yet. And it may never happen if your husband continues to show such a low interest in sex. Sometimes it felt like he forgot you even existed.

You wished he would just give you a baby, if he didn't want to give you attention. That way you'd have not only something to occupy your time, but you'd also have someone to love, and for someone to love you. You weren't even sure if your husband loved you anymore. Your relationship wasn't the same as when you were first married two years ago.

These days, all you really wanted was for him to come home, rip your clothes off, and fuck you like he hadn't seen a woman in years. You wanted to feel desired, so badly. You had recently picked up a habit of touching yourself sexually while your husband was away at work. You were so starved.

.....

Autumn had come and gone by this time of the year and it was becoming quite frigid outside. With winter well on the way, you turned on your fireplace in the living room. You didn't really care for the bear skin rug that your husband insisted on having in front of the fireplace, but it wasn't worth the fight to try to get rid of it.

With the fire going, you snuggled up into a cozy sweater and put on some mindless radio station to fill in the silence of the empty house. As you listened to the radio and did some mild tidying about the room, you wondered if you should maybe get a dog, or maybe a cat.

Then the doorbell rang, that's weird. You thought. You seldom had any visitors during the day. You walked over and opened the door.

"Hello, Miss. My name is Willy Wonka! Would you care to sample some of my chocolate on this fine day?"

"Fine day? It's freezing out there," you said as you were awestruck by this man's beauty, his bright purple coat and milk chocolate-colored top hat added a sort of zany zest to his attractiveness. "um, would you care to come in and warm up for a minute?" you said politely, nodding to his briefcase that you assumed was filled with sweets, adding, "I do love chocolate."

"Why, yes, if you're sure you don't mind." he smiled, and his green eyes were dazzling.

"No, I don't mind at all, sir."

Willy took his hat off, and his curls fell downward in a bit of a mess as he stepped into the warm home. "Thank you, I didn't get your name."

"Oh, I'm y/n. Please, sit down, the fire is going."

"It is quite toasty in here, thank you, y/n." Willy said, taking a seat on the couch closest to the fireplace. “Very interesting choice of a rug, y/n.” he chirped.

“Oh that? My husband insisted on it, it’s so dreadful. But it is rather soft.”

“Hm.” he nodded looking at the luscious, dark colored fur on the floor. He then looked at her, cheerily, “So, would you like to try some?” He picked up his briefcase.

“Of course.” you said with a smile, truly wanting to try some of him instead, but you’d give his candy a chance for now. He was so damn handsome. His hair was gorgeous, you wanted to run your fingers through it, maybe even pull it.

He opened his briefcase in his lap, letting you choose which candy you wanted.

You picked a piece of chocolate, and he told you the name of it, and its special ingredients. You listened to him, but ultimately got lost in his innocent yet sexy eyes. You bit into the treat, and it was rich and velvety sweet as it melted in your mouth. It was absolutely delicious. The best candy you ever had in your life.

“Mr. Wonka, this is perfection, it’s absolutely divine.”

Willy smiled widely, “I’m pleased to hear it. I have only ever hoped that each person that tries my chocolate will have that same reaction.”

He was so genuinely confident and excited about his creation. The passion he had was evident.

“I’ll take every one of this flavor that you have, Mr. Wonka.” you said, taking another delicious bite.

“Wonderful!” he exclaimed, “And please, call me Willy.”

“Willy.” you said, softly. You wanted to moan his name. But how to get there? You improvised. “Um, why don’t you stay for a bit longer? I can put in a pot of tea, if you’d like.”

“That sounds lovely y/n, or should I call you Mrs…”

“Oh, it’s Mrs. Hudson, but you can just call me y/n.” you insisted, hopping up and going to the kitchen heating up some tea. You had to have this man. Cheating was wrong, but your husband would never, ever know. He never wanted sex anymore, but you couldn’t go without it like he did. You were so needy, especially now, after meeting the handsome Mr. Wonka.

You had plenty of time to have Willy fuck you and send him on his way with his payment for the chocolate, all before Mr. Hudson got home. You would have to make Mr. Wonka an offer he couldn’t refuse, much like you couldn’t refuse his delectable sweets.

You carried two cups of steaming, aromatic tea, one for you and one for Willy. You hoped it would warm him up properly.

“Here you are, sir.”

“Why thank you, very kindly, my lady.” he took the teacup from you, and you felt weak in your knees when your hand was briefly brushed by his fingers. You watched as he carefully brought the rim of the cup to his lips, taking a small sip. “Mm, that’s quite good. A perfect cup of tea, y/n.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you like it.” you said, sitting down next to him and taking a sip for yourself. You didn’t know how to get this man naked; you weren’t finding any viable option that wouldn’t be too crude or forward. You felt you were running out of time. You couldn’t let him leave with the risk of never seeing him again. This delightful, beautiful man could not escape you.

“Well, this has been quite the pleasure.” he said, in a farewell tone. He took one last sip of his tea.

You haven’t had the pleasure, yet.

“But I will get out if your hair,” Willy stood up, continuing, “and go about my merry way. Thank you for your-"

“Wait! Willy-" you shot up to your feet as you spoke but couldn’t finish a sentence. You just started into his eyes.

“Yes?” he asked, frowning at you, utterly confused by your behavior.

You didn’t have the words, so you threw yourself at him, kissing him hungrily.

He took ahold of you, and pulled away from the kiss, “Y/n, are you mad?”

“Oh, god! I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

“No, it is alright. It was kind of…nice.”

“Yeah? Mr. Wonka, I had an idea of pleasing you the way you pleased me with your chocolate. If you’ll indulge me?”

He raised his eyebrows, “I have to say, I’m intrigued.”

You put your hands on his chest, making him sit back down on the couch. Your hands then went to his fly.

“Whoa! What are you doing?” he asked, panicky.

“Shh-sh. Relax, Willy. Do you like me?”

“Ye-yes.” he trembled with nerves. “I find you very pretty.”

“I really like you. Have you…ever been with a woman before?” You rested your hands on his upper thighs, dangerously close to his member. It was visible through his trousers although he wasn’t even hard yet.

Willy shook his head, “No, ma’am.”

“Awe, don’t be scared. I’ll take care of you, okay. Do you want that, Willy?” You ran your hands slowly around the outline of his cock.

He gulped, watching your hands on his pants, “Yes, I think I would really like that.”

“Good.” You beamed, unzipping his trousers, and pulling his cock out. He was much thicker and longer than your husband. You were excited about being Willy’s first. You wet his cock with your tongue, and sucked him, moaning and slurping as you did so. You wanted him so bad; you sucked his cock like your life depended on it.

A string of “oh oh oh”’s and “mmm’”s fell from Willy’s mouth as you worked over his cock. He writhed on the couch and placed a hand on your head.

He was hard as stone after a moment, and you had been wet since he sat on your couch the first time. “Oh, Willy. Do you feel good, my sweet?”

“Yes,” he panted, his eyes glazed over, “very good.”

You stood up, and dropped your underwear to the ground, kicking them elsewhere. Then, you mounted him. His hands instinctively went to your waist. You reached down, placing his member between your folds. You sank down on him, feeling the intense stretch of your vaginal walls. You moaned in a slight pain initially, because his was larger than your husband, and you had never been with anyone else.

“Are you alright, y/n?”

“Oh, yes, darling, just give me a moment.” you adjusted, and then started to bounce in his lap.

Willy watched you in wonder and awe, then he’d look down to watch your pussy envelope his cock. “Haa, this is incredible.” he moaned, gripping your hips harder.

You quickened your pace. Sinful wet sounds came from your pussy. God, you needed this. The friction alone was titillating, but the tip of his cock would hit your cervix every so often and it was bliss, the whole scenario.

"Oh, y/n!" Willy cried your name over and over again. His hands explored your clothed body, groping your curves.

Damn, it felt so nice to be touched, and his hands were surprisingly big, and he knew how to use them.

You held yourself up with your hands on his shoulders, and slowly rocked back and forth on his cock. You noticed him eyeing your chest. "Unbutton my blouse, Willy."

He bit his lip with an eager gleam in his eyes, and he opened up the front of your blouse, letting your breasts plop out in his face.

Willy's eyes widened, he took his eyes away from your tits to look up in your eyes, "May I feel them?" he asked with a soft whimper.

"Yes, absolutely." you huffed, taking his hands and clapping them onto your naked breasts.

He gently squeezed and kneaded your breasts, then rolled your nipples between his fingers.

He was so sweet, and so curious about your body. It was so hot. You wanted to get off, you hoped to cum all over his dick. You held onto his arms firmly and rode him hard. His cock pounded away at your walls wildly, and you contracted your pussy around his girth.

"Ah! Fuck this is so good! I'm gonna...I'm gonna come!"

"Oh, oh!" Willy held your waist, and you felt his cock twitch inside you.

Your tummy swirled, and your legs went limp as you came.

"What's happening?" Willy cried, "What is this?" You felt him shoot ropes of his milky cum inside of you.

You took his worried face in your hands, "You're alright, my candy man. You had an orgasm. It's a wonderful thing."

"Oh," he panted, "yes, I suppose it is. A fantastic thing! Gosh, y/n, that felt like chocolate tastes, and chocolate is the best thing in the world!" he was so excited, like he'd discovered something that no one else had experienced before.

You giggled, "Well, I'm flattered, Willy." you felt hot and sweaty, you ran your hand down the back of your neck. You felt Willy's eyes on your tits.

"Your breasts, they are absolutely beautiful." he took them in his hands, just admiring the fullness of them.

You felt your pussy throb at the sight. Your husband never paid much attention to your body, but Willy seemed to be enthralled by you. You noticed how the glow of the fire highlighted his cocoa-colored curls. It was so pretty, his hair looked like the work of a master chocolatier. You ran your fingers through it, feeling the silkiness of his glorious mane.

"Can we do it again?" he asked you, then nodded to the floor, "There? On the bear skin rug? It would be comfortable for you."

"You're so thoughtful. Fuck me again, Willy Wonka. Pound me into the floor if you must."

Willy smiled like a kid on Christmas morning and hoisted you up and then carefully placed you down on the rug.

The fur was plush and soothing on your back. You put your arms up by your head to get comfy.

Willy ran his hands down your body. He looked at you like you were a gift he had been waiting for. "You are so beautiful. Your husband does not know how lucky he is."

"That's sweet, Willy, but let's not mention my husband."

He nodded, "Right." Then, he dipped down, pressing his lips to your stomach.

"Mm." you moaned, rubbing your thighs together in anticipation. You could feel Willy's semen dripping out of you. You wanted more.

Willy left small wet kisses down passed your navel, lower and lower, and you couldn't help but push his head down where you needed him most.

"How do I do this, y/n? Is it like... licking a lollipop?" he asked, naively.

You smiled at him and said, "Yes, kind of. Like a sucker with a chewy center...but you're not in a big hurry to get to the center. You're just trying to enjoy the flavor on the outside."

He took a second to ponder over what you had said, then he nodded, "Okay, got it."

He was a quick learner. He lapped steadily on your clit; his pacing was perfect, not too fast, not too slow. He must have had lots of suckers in his life.

"You can use the tip of your tongue also, Willy." you whimpered through the pleasure.

"Oh, okay." he answered, his voice muffled as he didn't move away from your pussy as he spoke.

The vibrations from his voice sent tingles through your body. That coupled with Willy massaging your clit with his tongue and letting the tip dance between your folds, led you to your second orgasm. You cried out in ecstasy. "Willy Wonka, you are a god!"

"No, I'm just a chocolate maker." he said, nonchalantly. He then sat on his knees, his hand around his cock. He ran the tip of his cock along the joint of your wet folds, coating himself in your cum.

"Ooh." you moaned, tucking your fingers into the furry rug as firmly as you could.

Willy slid into you, then back out. "Ha, you're so wet."

"Fuck me hard, Willy." you purred.

With that, he shoved his cock into you, bucking his hips roughly. His hips smacked your skin with each thrust. He put his whole length into you. He gripped your thighs and started to get faster.

You squeezed him with your thighs, and he grew more confident in what he was doing and picked up a rhythm. You watched his handsome face scrunch up as he worked his hips, his thick brows furrowing in both pleasure and concentration.

You wondered what your husband would do if he knew that the candy man stopped by and made you come on the bear skin rug he loved so much. Oh, the risk was worth it! For Willy was perhaps better at sex than making chocolate.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss

@chalametbich

[transmascsteveharrington]

It’s the summer of ’85. The summer of chlorine-bleached hair and navy blue shorts. Of red felt tip against white board and molten ice cream on sticky hands. Of unexpected friendships and teenage sorrows, snug-in screenings and bumpy car rides. It’s a cruel summer. It’s the summer Eddie Munson climbs through Steve’s bedroom window. Repeatedly.

It all starts the day of graduation at someone's house. Everyone around Eddie is having the time of their life, getting wasted and high while Eddie throws himself a pity party. And judging by the figure hidden in the corner, arms crossed in front of his chest, pout on his lips Eddie isn't the only one. It's weird seeing King Steve, ruler of parties and champion of kegs stands, awkwardly stand on the sidelines of a party. But then again Steve Harrington hasn't been King Steve for a while. He may have won prom king (at least that's what Eddie has heard, he wouldn't be caught dead at prom) but it's been a hot minute since Steve held his head high, acting like his hair was a crown, his varsity jacket a fur coat and sports trophy his scepter. Not that Eddie has paid much attention to Steve Harrington over the years or anything. Eddie knows that curiosity killed the cat, but cats have nine lives and Eddie can definitely spare one, he thinks as he slowly crosses the room and approaches Steve.

"Penny for your thoughts, joint for your sorrows," Eddie asks and holds out a joint for Steve. Steve's eyes widen in confusion for a second, before the frown on his face turns into a soft smile that's going to haunt Eddie's dreams.

"This a pity smoke, Munson?" he says, nodding towards the joint in Eddie's palm.

"Charity actually," Eddie says, "Looks good on my tax return and all. You know the drill."

The soft smile turns into soft laughter and fuck abort mission, abort mission, Eddie thinks. Pretty boys shouldn't be allowed to laugh like that. But Steve does and it leads to smoking the joint in the back of Eddie's van which somehow leads to a far too vulnerable conversation about expectations and failure, about pressure and loneliness and about how Eddie is the prettiest thing Steve has ever seen. It leads to an unexpected kiss and another and another and another  that leads to an unexpected hook-up.

Eddie thinks Steve is gonna run the next day, act like it never happened, stay away from Eddie. He might not go to college after summer, but Steve is probably going to leave Hawkins sooner or later, so best for him to just forget everything about last night. Only that Steve apparently doesn't want to forget or to run. Instead, he shows up at Eddie's trailer the next day. For a second Eddie is afraid Steve is going to punch him, he doesn't expect to get pulled into another kiss.

It kinda becomes a regular thing during the first few weeks of summer after that. Steve drives to the trailer when Wayne is out and Eddie climbs through Steve's bedroom window regardless of whether Steve's parents are home or not. Just for the fun of it, the summer romance feeling of it, the drama of it all.

It also makes Steve roll his eyes with a fond smile when Eddie stumbles through his window. It's all fun and games until it starts to become a problem. Because Eddie already had harbored a small but not insignificant crush on Steve while they were still in school and Steve was  just the popular jock at the other end of the hallway. But having Steve like this, naked, stripped bare of his clothes and all the pretense he always wore at school like armor? It's life-ruining. Eddie already knows he is not going to start his third try at senior year with his  heart intact.

They are a couple of weeks into whatever this is, when Steve mentions his parents forcing him to get a job at the mall, says they'll have to meet up less, talks about the stupid costume with a dorky hat he has to wear, but says Eddie should come say hi, if he wants to. Steve can get him a free scoop or something.

"Ah yes the real benefit in friends with benefits," Eddie laughs, "free ice cream."

Only that friends with benefits isn't quite accurate. They aren't friends, they aren't dating, they are just repeat hook ups. Eddie tries not to be bitter about this, knows this is already more than he ever thought he could get. Despite his instincts telling him not to go see Steve at Scoops because obviously it was just a stupid joke, Eddie goes. He is glad he does because maybe god is real and the indecently short and tight sailor uniform shorts are his way of trying to make up for all the hardship he has made Eddie suffer through.

Steve is a vision in the uniform especially with the dorky hat he claims to hate so much. Steve beams at Eddie when he sees him.

“You came!” 

“And will several more times today now that I have seen you in those shorts,” Eddie whispers and leans on the counter. Steve rolls his eyes but blushes slightly. The same shade of red as the scribbles on the white board behind Steve. “What does the you rule you suck mean?” 

“That’s Harrington’s score board with our customers,” Steve’s coworker chimes in. Eddie hadn’t paid much attention to her until now. “As you can see he sucks quite a lot at scoring any phone numbers or dates.” 

“Oh,” is all Eddie can say. He is glad he hasn’t tried the ice cream yet because he is sure he is about to throw up. Of course Steve is trying to score. They never said they were exclusive and why would they. Why would Steve want to be with some trailer trash boy for anything more than a little fun. Eddie doesn’t know what’s going to happen first: crying or throwing up. All he knows is that he has to get out of here. But before Eddie can run and berate himself for being so fucking stupid, Steve’s hand closes around his wrist.

“I’m taking my break,” Steve announces loudly and pulls Eddie into the back room. 

“It’s not what you think,” Steve hurries to explain as soon as the door falls shut behind them. “It was Robin’s stupid idea. She thought my customer service voice was me trying to strike out. I just wanted to get a tip.” 

“So you’re not flirting with your customers?” 

“Only metalheads with curly hair and a beat up van,” Steve teases. “Robin just assumed because I got the reputation that I was striking out. And I didn’t bother to correct because it doesn’t really matter and it’s not like I can go around announcing that I have a boyfriend.” 

“Boyfriend?” Eddie raises his eyebrows, heart beating in his chest, the word echoing in his mind. 

“Well I’d have to ask him first if he wants to be,” Steve grins and puts his hands on Eddie’s hips,  pulling him closer. “I had it all planned out. Romantic dinner, candlelight, Judas Priest playing. Might have to up that though since he apparently had no idea how serious I am about him.” 

“You know you could make him a pb&j and he would be wooed. He’d be stupid not to say yes to being your boyfriend,” Eddie says and leans in, lips only inches away from Steve. Even without touching he can feel Steve’s lips twist into a smile. 

“Yeah?” Steve asks. 

“Yeah,” Eddie says before sealing his promise with a kiss. 

Maybe it’s not going to be a cruel summer after all. 

[pathologicalreid]

If your down could u write an imagine where reader is new to the bau and Spencer is just coming back from jail and he makes reader nervous and when he notices he starts to mess with her nothing to wild but he teases her every now and again -🖤

drop | S.R.

in which reid seems to be there every time you drop something

who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader

category: fluff

content warnings: fluff, lighthearted teasing, clumsiness, obliviousness, reader is mentioned to be shorter than 5'7" (sorry it just worked for the story)

word count: 1.1k

a/n: hey anon! thanks for requesting, i think i may have verged away from the request on accident. also this is the one i posted about earlier that had been deleted by word so i had to rewrite it and therefore it's not very thoroughly proofread. hope you enjoy.

It came as a shock, most people needed to apply to the BAU and even then, they spent years trying to get in. You had gotten a call four months ago and were told you were leaving IOD in the Hoover building and would be expected at the BAU the next morning.

Years ago, you had a run-in with Emily Prentiss while she was heading Interpol in London, but you didn’t think she remembered you – let alone wanted to work with you. She brought you on to the team to help catch Peter Lewis

Now, Peter Lewis was dead, and Spencer Reid had been exonerated. You thought your time with the team was done, but when Emily caught you packing up your things, she told you she had no intentions of sending you back to the International Operation Division.

So, you made yourself comfortable at your desk across from Luke’s, even adding a picture of your family, just to make it seem a little lived-in.

It was something you’d had drilled into your head by your father: if you’re not early, you’re late. That was the reason why you were usually the first to the BAU, only sometimes being beaten by Dr. Reid.

Penelope said he was harmless, but that didn’t change the fact that he made you nervous. Not nervous in the sense that you were scared of him, but nervous in the way that he was something of a legend in the FBI.

Even more so since his recent release from prison.

You felt a sort of disconnect from the team when it came to them trying to get Reid out of prison, whenever Nadie Ramos came up in conversation, you picked up your files on Mr. Scratch and distracted yourself. Of course, you helped where you were needed, but you didn’t know him like they did.

This particular morning, you had beaten him to the office, taking your spot at your desk and flipping through a file you had abandoned in the name of sleep last night. A slight crash made you jump so badly that you fumbled with the papers in an attempt to not drop them. You looked up to see Spencer had dropped his bag on his desk, “Good morning, Y/N.” He greeted you.

Blankly, you stare at him for a moment before giving him a half smile. “Good morning, Dr. Reid,” you responded.

“I told you that you could just call me Reid, or Spencer,” he said, sitting down at his own desk.

Nodding, you found yourself interested in your coffee cup. “Yes, you did,” you took a deep breath. “Good morning, Spencer,” you tried again, offering him a fuller smile.

That seemed to appease him for now because he flipped open his own files and started inspecting them.

As you were preparing for the 10 o��clock debrief, you found yourself in the office kitchenette, pouring a cup of coffee from the pot that had been brewed an indeterminate number of minutes ago. Vaguely aware of the person standing behind you, you turned around to find Spencer, holding his own mug in both hands. “Oh! Hey,” you said, mentally smacking the palm of your hand to your forehead.

You moved out of the way as you added cream to your mug, watching as Spencer poured his coffee and followed it up with an almost equal amount of sugar. As you were about to make your way to the round table room, Spencer spoke, “You know, before 1975 you wouldn’t even have been able to be an FBI agent.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you stopped in your tracks and turned to face him, “Wait, what? Why?”

“Before 1975 people shorter than 5’7” couldn’t be FBI agents,” He responded plainly, but there was a bit of mischief in his eyes.

You looked at him curiously, warmth flooding your cheeks. You stammered something about being late and rushed to the roundtable room, taking your usual spot next to Luke, and watching what Garcia presented to you—pretending not to notice Spencer across the table from you.

The BAU had been asked to consult on a case, but there were no precincts that had asked the team to make a trip to them. You had finished the paperwork on a recently closed case and got up to bring it to Emily, stuffing the papers in a file folder, you turned around and ran into Spencer. “Sorry!” You squeaked out, dropping to the floor to pick up the papers. To your surprise, he crouched down next to you and helped to pick up the papers. “Oh, jeez, now they’re all out of order,” you moped, setting the papers back down on your desk.

“It was my fault,” Spencer said. The honesty in his voice made your shoulders slouch.

Shaking your head, you smiled at him, “It’s okay, Spencer. They’re just papers.”

He looked at you like there was something more he wanted to say, but he didn’t, he just turned from your desk and walked out of the bullpen, leaving you staring.

When you finally brought your papers to Emily, she asked you to close the door behind you. Patiently, you stood in her office while she added your file to the menacing pile she kept on her desk. “I’ve been meaning to ask how you’re doing. With the BAU, I mean,” she told you, leaning over her desk.

“Good, I think. I’ve gotten very few complaints so far,” you told her, unable to help the uneasiness you felt. Had someone said something?

Emily nodded, her dark hair shining with the movement, “Good, I haven’t heard anything negative about you at all. Which is actually uncommon for the BAU.”

You let the rest of the day pass, but as the team trickled out of the bullpen, only you, Emily, and Spencer were left.

At the sound of rustling, you looked over to see that Spencer was packing up his things and putting them into his familiar leather bag. Resting your cheek on your hand, you went back to your case file, marking thoughts in the margins.

Jumping when something hit your desk, making the metal rattle, you dropped your pen on the ground. Peering up to see Spencer giving you a lopsided smile before he bent down to pick up your pen, “Hey, at least you didn’t drop a bunch of papers again.”

You flushed as your eyes followed him out the glass doors of the BAU, turning around to see Emily watching on, leaning on the railing outside her office, looking between you and Spencer as if she knew something you didn’t.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Jack Howl: Fluffy is Justice

Me, expecting Jack to be in a tank top and sweat pants:

Twst: HAH, you thought 😩

He looks so cozy! Apparently the patterns featured are inspired by Nordic ones. This makes sense since Jack is from a snowy region in the Shaftlands.

Rise and Shine!

Early to bed, early to rise.

Jack followed his regiment rigidly. He tucked into bed at 10 pm sharp every evening and rose at 6 am every morning. A protein-packed breakfast and a morning stretch, job, and weight-lifting session with Vil later, then he was off to classes. (Ace sometimes poked fun at him and declared he may as well be an honorary member of Heartslabyl.)

But sometimes life didn’t seem to want to cooperate with him.

Peering into a washroom mirror, Jack scowled at his reflection.

He must have been tossing and turning in his sleep—his hair stood on end. It looked as though he had plugged his tail into an electrical outlet, frying his fur.

The teeth of his comb wove through his mane. As soon as the comb retreated, the hair sprang back up again, as if deliberately defying him.

Jack gritted his teeth, letting loose a low growl.

Frustrated.

He checked his phone and nearly jumped out of his cardigan. He had spent longer than he had intended tackling his hairdo. If he didn't hurry it along, he would be late.

Can’t have that, Jack sighed. Guess I’ll have to skip fixing the hair today.

He laid down his comb and turned on the facet. Cold water spilled out and onto his hands.

SPLOOSH!

Jack ran his wet fingers through his hair, matting it with the weight of the water. Tamed, at least for the time being.

He blitzed through the rest of his routine, peeling off his pajamas and shimmying into his P.E. uniform. Grabbing a protein bar and his duffel bag--crammed full of his school supplies and his track and field uniform--Jack rushed out. No tardies on his permanent record, not today.

He was fast. A wolf sprinting, unrestrained, out of the Chamber of Mirrors and thundering down Main Street.

"Like the wind," Coach Vargas would remark.

"I have to catch up," Deuce, his fellow club member, would say.

"Way too eager," Ruggie would snicker.

"Jack!"

He came to a half at his name, his ears perking. There, standing by the statue of the King of Beasts, was a familiar face. You waved at him as he approached, a hand fiddling with the strap of his bag. It snapped against his beefy shoulder.

"... Hey. You're up early," he remarked gruffly.

"I wanted to catch you before you met up with Vil-senpai for your usual workout," you grinned. "Glad I did--I have something for you."

Reaching into your backpack, you produced a water bottle and a small container. Inside were sandwiches sliced into triangles: leftover canned tuna (courtesy of Grim), ham and cheese, and vegetables.

Surprise sparked in his amber eyes. His tail jutted up, wagging excitedly. "You made this for me?"

"I figured you'd need to keep your energy up since you've got a whole day of lectures afterwards," you said bashfully. "Sorry, did I overstep?"

"No, I... I don't think so at all." Jack cleared his throat. "Really. I appreciate this. I didn't pack any real food today. The timing couldn't be better."

Relief washed over your face. You offered the water and the sandwiches to Jack, who stiffened slightly when he felt the warmth of you grazing his fingers. He quickly pulled away, avoiding your gaze, and busied himself with shoving the snacks into his bag.

"Oh....!" you suddenly gasped.

"What's wrong?"

"Your hair, it's..." You gestured to your own.

"Yeah, I know it's a mess," he mumbled, his ears flattening in shame. "Didn't have the time to style it right earlier. I had to compromise."

You shook your head.

"It looks different than usual, but that's not bad. In fact, it's kind of cute."

"What? Cute...?" He scratched his chin. "Not sure if I'm getting it."

"Yes! It looks super fluffy, like a cloud. Or whipped cream on top of ice-cream or cake," you suggested. "And cuz it's sticking up so much, it's like it's inviting someone to come along and pat your head to smooth it down."

"Pat my head?!" His hands flew there, as if to protect him from the terror that was an aggressive head pat.

"You don't like the idea?"

"I-It's embarrassing!" he snapped. "Only my family goes and does stuff like that. I'm getting too old for head pats, anyway."

"That's a shame then. Fluffy things should be cuddled more! Fluffy is justice, after all." You linked your fingers together and chuckled. "Fluffy means plushies, blankets, and coats. All the things that make us feel warm and protected. It fills our hearts with happiness. You're the same, Jack. So... I don't think it's anything to be embarrassed by."

He stared at you, bewildered.

The sun warmed his cheeks--or were they warmed from within? And there it was again, the telltale way his tail moved, back and forth and back and forth, like a metronome.

"I... I guess so," Jack managed to say. “A-Anyway, I need to get going. I can’t keep Vil-senpai waiting.”

“Alright, I won’t keep you for any longer.” You gave another wave and a smile brighter than the sun. “Good luck!”

He nodded before surging off.

His face aflame.

Maybe being fluffy wasn't so bad after all.

[mochiwrites]

Jellie tends to be a very curious cat, sometimes. She likes poking her nose into places it doesn’t belong, or snatching things from Scar and Grian when they catch her interest.

Maybe Scar should’ve known better, then.

He sits in his and Grian’s bedroom (it’s been theirs pretty much after the second month Scar moved in), a ring in his hands. The metal is cool against his palm, a soft rose gold. The band isn’t anything special, a simple engraving in it. Scar knew Grian would throw a fit if he found out Scar spent so many diamonds on the ring. So he tried to get something reasonable.

He can spoil Grian with the actual ring.

If he says yes, that is. Just the thought makes a shiver run of Scar’s spine. Is he really doing this? He and Grian have only been together for a year and a half, but Scar just knows that he’s the one. There isn’t any doubt in his mind about it. But does Grian feel the same?

Jellie jumps up on the bed next to Scar, meowing at him. She brushes her head against his arm as she settles beside him, and Scar smiles. “Well hello there beautiful lady. Are we requesting pets?” he teases as he brushes a hand through her fur. She curls up close to him, leaning into his touch. Scar sighs softly, scratching behind her ear. “I don’t know Jellie… do you think he’ll say yes?” he asks quietly. She stares blankly up at him. “Yeah okay, fair enough.”

Past their bedroom, the front door opens and shuts. “Scar, I’m home!”

Scar jumps up, disturbing a content Jellie. He shoots her an apologetic look, giving her one last pet. But the most crucial piece?

He makes the mistake of leaving the engagement ring on the bed.

As Scar walks out the room to greet his boyfriend, Jellie takes to making their bed her own. Yet as she moves, the shiny ring catches her attention. She tilts her head, curious about the shiny object. Sticking a paw out, she swats it. Again. And again. And again. Until the ring tips over the side of the bed, dropping to the floor with a ‘plop.’

Her pupils widen in that playful way they tend to do, wiggling before she pounces.

Oblivious to what his cat is doing, Scar is sweeping his boyfriend into a hug. “How was work?” he questions, looking down at Grian with a curious yet soft gaze.

“Tiring,” Grian huffs, content to melt into Scar’s grasp. He lifts his arms, returning the embrace as he does so. “I had to remake the blueprint at least five times until the guy was happy with it.”

Scar winces, “Eesh. Now I’m kind of glad he only wanted you to meet with him.”

Grian glowers at him in return, though the look is entirely playful. “Yeah, yeah.” He leans up, brushing their lips together in a soft kiss. “Consider yourself lucky.”

“I think I will, thank you.” Scar grins, stealing a kiss. “How does a movie and dinner sound?” He bumps their noses together as he smiles.

“Let me think about it,” Grian hums, booping his nose against Scar’s as he does so. “As long as there’s ice cream after.”

Scar lets out an affronted gasp, pulling away. “I’m offended you think there wouldn’t be ice cream after all!” he says as he walks toward the kitchen. “Go sit! I’ll grab the takeout leftovers.”

Laughing, Grian takes his shoes off and heads over into their living room. He finds Jellie there, playing with something caught between her paws. He fondly shakes his head at her, “What do you have now, miss?”

Jellie looks up at him with a meow as she swats at whatever it is she’s deemed her new toy, chasing at it. However, said mystery object knocks into Grian’s foot, and he gets it first.

Leaning down, Grian picks up what appears to be a rose gold ring. He inspects it in his hand, eyebrows knit together as he does. “Where did this come from?” He blinks at it, looking down at Jellie. “Did you rob someone?”

Jellie sits in front of him, slowly blinking. The perfect picture of innocence.

Shaking his head with a faint laugh, Grian looks at the ring again. His heart skips a beat as he really takes in the detail of it. He certainly didn’t buy it. Did Scar? And if he did then….

Heart a little louder, he turns to his boyfriend. “Hey, Scar?”

“Yes, love of my life?”

“Any clue what this is?”

Scar walks into the living room, the soft crackles of a furnace behind him. He pauses when he notices what Grian is holding in his hand. His eyes go wide, looking a little pale. To the side of Grian, he spots the movement of Jellie’s tail, and looks directly at her. “Traitor,” he mutters.

“Scar?” Grian questions, confused and… maybe a bit nervous.

“Haha uh… any chance we can forget this all happened and revisit it like. Next month?” Scar weakly chuckles, the epitome of nerves as he looks at Grian.

“What’s going on?” Grian’s brows furrow in confusion, a bit of concern leaking into his expression.

Scar knows trying to lie about it is practically pointless. Grian is too curious and too stubborn to let it go. And now that he’s seen the ring… Scar takes in a shaky breath. “Void, alright. Guess we’re doing this.”

He walks over to Grian, “May I?” He gestures for the ring, and Grian slowly nods. He hands the ring over to Scar, who accepts it with shaking hands. “Okay.” Scar sucks in a breath, unbelieving that he’s really doing this right now.

Slowly, Scar drops down on one knee in front of Grian, watching the way the other’s eyes go wide. But something about the position doesn’t feel quite right. Brows furrowing, Scar sets his other knee on the carpet below. “G? Mind kneeling with me here?” he asks, to which Grian nods. He joins Scar on the carpet, kneeling with him as well. “Much better,” he hums, pleased.

“Scar what?” Grian questions, lost and confused, and goodness his heart is beating so fast.

“I uh, I had a whole thing planned out, but Jellie seems to have thrown a wrench into all that,” Scar chuckles. “But it’s fine! I can improvise, who needs a plan?” He does. He needs a plan. Shaking his head, Scar reaches for one of Grian’s hands, grasping it in his own. He takes a measured breath, and begins to speak.

“I love you. More than words will ever be able to describe, G. You’ve done so much for me, more than I think I’ll ever be able to thank you for. You found me on the street, and despite being scammed by me, you still offered me a roof to live under, and a home to heal in.” Grian’s eyes are focused on him, listening with rapt attention. His gaze only worsens Scar’s nerves, heart beating a mile a minute. “You’re stubborn and witty, and sometimes you steal the blanket from me.”

Grian laughs.

Scar loves the sound.

“You don’t let me wallow in self pity, or memories of the harder times. You’re endlessly kind to both myself and Jellie, and everyone around you, even if your patience runs a little thin and you get snippy. We may get into a minor disagreement here and there, but you always come back around to me.” Scar smiles softly at him, so painfully fond and loving. “Back on that world… I never thought I would get to live life again. Or even enjoy the night sky without being afraid. It felt like a part of me was always missing, but I found that part with you.”

“Scar…” Grian trails off, face going red.

“G, you’re my home, my light. I want to spend every day waking up next to you and messing up pancake batter with you,” Scar laughs, the sound wet and shaky. Grian laughs with him, sounding just as affected. “I want to hold you on your bad days, and on your good ones. I want to be there through everything, for the rest of our lives. You’ve reminded me what it’s like to live and love, what it’s like to be me. There’s no one else for me, my heart and souls are yours.”

Scar swallows, holding the ring out to him. “So… will you entangle your life with mine forever? And marry me?” His expression turns bashful as he asks, and Grian is red in the face.

“You…” he trails off, amazed and in disbelief all at once. He looks between Scar and the ring, and he shakes his head. “I’ve been trying for days to find the perfect way of proposing to you, and you go and pull the rug right out from under me,” he laughs. “Curse how perfect you are sometimes.”

“C’mon G, you’re really leaving me hanging here!” Scar whines at him, making Grian laugh all over again.

Grian wraps his arms around Scar’s shoulders, pressing their lips together. “Yes, you spoon. I don’t want anyone else. Just you.”

If their neighbors hear how loudly Scar yells, well… it’s a warm congratulations to the newly engaged couple.

Jellie watches her humans cry in each others arms, tail flicking lazily at her side. She better get extra treats for this.

(It’s only later, when they’re sitting on the couch, curled into each other, that Scar realizes what Grian said. He turns to him, “Wait, you were planning to propose too?”

Grian snorts with laughter, “Hadn’t even picked out a ring, but yes Scar, I was.”)

[drgnflyteabox]

red ochre [2]

series masterlist previous || part two -> woad and weld || part three -> tbd

pairing: viking goap x fem! nun reader summary: you recover from the boat, and wonder why you were taken w.c: 3.9k tags/warnings: pain, caretaking, food, stomach issues, threats, mean simon, fears of rape (doesn't happen), viking-typical slavery, unwanted cuddling / massage / touching, alcohol, scars, violence, hunting, laswell hello!, reader has some puritanical attitudes / assumptions but she was a nun so, power imbalance, dubcon comfort, crying, religious themes (dldr)

You're a stone sunk to the bottom of the ocean, pulled under by exhaustion and turmoil. It's the sleep of the dead, dreamless and unreachable.

Vaguely, in moments of semi-consciousness, you hear voices and feel softness against your skin, warmth all around you. The brush of fingers against your cheeks.

When you do wake, it's like crossing between different worlds, with a head full of cotton and fog. Your sense of smell comes alive before anything else, the smell of food permeating the air around you.

Fish. Cream. Something herbaceous, something earthy. A fire crackles closeby, warming the air, warming you. You can feel fur touching your arms and legs, draped over you and flat underneath you.

It only serves to soften to blow of pain, overwhelming pain. True awareness comes then, waking you with a gasp that alerts-

"Did she just-"

"Sh!" Simon's voice, coming closer. "You awake?" his face comes into view above - you only recognize him by voice.

He's scarred, big and small, but the most eye-catching one bisects his face, splitting it into two from his cheekbone to his jaw on the other side. It's deep, raised, angry even if you can tell it's healed.

You scream.

It's a weak sound, the cry of somebody that knows it's pointless and yet can't help but shout into the void and hope that something will answer.

Before, that would have been god. You'd have prayed, lived as a hermit, sequestered yourself to a cave and live as one of the great ascetic saints. A life even further dedicated than nunhood.

Since he had refused to answer you on the boat, you turn away, and whimper like an injured dog when that scarred face turns to a mask of stone.

"Ha!" Johnny doesn't pick up on the tension that's rising, slowly, as you tremble under Simons gaze. Or maybe he does, and he doesn't care. "Havnae seen his ugly mug yet, have ye? Dinnae worry, lamb."

Guilt curls in your belly, dampening your fear. Simon doesn't look shamed, but you weren't afraid of his scars - truly, you were disoriented, barely clothed and towered over by the same man that took you.

"He won't bite," Johnny continues. He walks over and lays a hand on Simons waist, fingers curling in the off-white fabric. "Well, not ye."

A wink.

"Hush!" Simon barks. "Get her up, she needs to eat."

There's no hesitation. Johnny leans down to you, pulling you until you sit up with a wince. You bite your lips to keep from crying out again, pain lancing through your muscles. You're seized by muscle spasms, by the fiery hot pain of your chafed wrists and a gnawing, deep hunger in your stomach.

"How-" you choke, throat dry and voice unused. Johnny pauses helping you up to listen. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Few days, lass. It's the evening," he grins. "Ye should thank us. Kept ye warm, washed, slipped ye broth into that lovely mouth-"

Simon puts a wooden bowl down onto the table, louder than necessary. There's a grumble from Johnny, but he gets you up and waits while your legs get used to weight on them again.

You're half-dragged, mostly carried to the table. All you're wearing is that shirt, nipples pebbled against the front from the cold. Hard to care too much when your muscles scream even holding yourself sitting up.

You lean on Johnny as Simon ladles soup into bowls, hunched over the kitchen hearth, silent as the grave.

"Eat slowly," is all he says.

It smells good, herby and warm. Your stomach groans and gurgles and begs you to eat, but you're weary. Afraid. Only when the men eat that you pick up a carved wooden spoon and hesitantly slurp.

Heat. Satisfaction. Eating is incredible, and you discover the wonderous ingredients loaded into the soap; salmon, potatoes, a green herb that tastes like sharp, citrussy grass.

Then your stomach cramps, and you tilt with nausea.

"Too fast?" Johnny coos, rubbing a big palm up and down your back. "Awe."

"That's enough, then," Simon goes to take your bowl, but you're too fast. You pull it close to your chest, spilling a little onto the table and drops soak into your shirt. "You can have some later. I said that's enough."

You hold fast. Your stomach hurts, but you're desperate for some form of control. All the terror and all the uncertainty rises, rushing through your finally conscious brain into a battle of strength. You took me but I have agency! it says. You took me but I can take this!

He's too strong.

The wood bowl clatters against the ground with a crack, hot soup spilling on the floor. You heave with the force of your breathing, afraid and too-aware of your predicament.

Taken, snatched, at the mercy of men whose intentions are unclear.

You're too slow to cower when Simon's arm shoots forward and grabs your jaw, hard and mean, giving you a squeeze.

"Now we've been nice to you," he starts. His voice is as solid as his arm. You start to shake. "But I can just as easily put you over my knee. That what you want?"

You shake your head.

"That's what I thought."

Johnny leaves after the soup is cleaned and you're tucked back into the bed again, muscles trembling still with the exertion of your first meal. Small, electric spasms make you wince every one in a while. Your wrists are bruised and scabbed, but healing. They feel hot and itchy, but Simon tells you as he rubs an ointment into the wound that they're healing well.

You try to shy away, hide yourself, when he notices your grimace and reaches for a calf. The look he gives you stops you, takes your breath, until he shakes his head and starts rubbing deep circles into the tenderest spot of your muscle.

"God!" you should. A wonder how badly you can hurt from just laying in bed. He snorts. "Ow!"

"Don't be dramatic," his thumb presses deeply, moving down, then back up. Squeezing. The bed dips with his weight as he scoots closer to you.

You take a moment to look around you. The cabin is made of wood, warmed by the fire, and is full to the brim. Clay pots, furs, tools, a couple barrels- they're everywhere, unorganized. Makes you wonder about the sacred items they'd stolen from your convent.

"Why did you take me?" someone bolder has possessed you. Your mouth twists when Simon's eyes find yours.

His hands don't stop moving. They switch legs, pulling the finished one onto his big thigh. It does feel better, relaxed and tender in a good sort of way, pain not so unbearable anymore.

"You're our spoils," he moves down, digging into your arch. You almost yelp. "D'you know what we gave up for you?"

Something in your chest squeezes, something scared and unpleasant. You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.

"That's alright," Simon murmurs. Your anxiety fights against the comfort he's giving you. "You'll be alright."

He flits his gaze downwards, eyeing you. Your breath catches when you realize that the position has left your legs open, shirt ridden up, and he's looking right at your bare cunt.

"Ah!" you pull your knees shut, hands finding where you're exposed and folding over, cupping yourself, face ablaze. Tears prick at your eyes again, fear winning over comfort.

Simon doesn't let you panic for long.

"I won't force myself on you, pet," he grunts. "We won't."

There isn't much choice but to hang on to his words for dear life, to believe that he won't force you. The hope is fragile, but it's there. You take the chance to pull a soft, worn blanket over your body.

"Am I to be your slave?" your voice wavers.

"No," he says simply.

For a long time, you watch him. He putters about, moving things, unloading boxes no doubt full of supplies used for raids. You wonder if that means he doesn't intend to go on another one, then wonder what they'll do with you if they do leave.

Johnny comes back flushed, smiling. You smell sweetness under his sweat, something you can't recognize. His eyes crinkle when he sees you.

"Two nights," he breathes, looking at you but talking to Simon. "They'll celebrate in two nights."

Your stomach tenses, roiling, eyes fluttering with the effort to stay awake. Even a short time is much for you after your journey.

"Price's back?" Simon asks. He's pulling a sealskin from a burlap bag, smoothing it out with his hands onto the table. The silvery, spotted skin reflects the fireplace.

"Tomorrow," Johnny pulls leather boots off his feet, then thick socks. He wipes himself down with a rag from a tub, shuffling to the bed when he finishes. "Then we feast."

Your eyes are heavy slits, mouth open. You hardly move even when Johnny sits next to you and brushes a thumb over your cheek, smiling toothily down at you.

"Awe, she's precious," he says, lowering his voice. "Go to sleep now, little lamb."

You wake the same way as before. A tilt of one world into the next, sliding down into consciousness as slow as thick porridge.

Only this time, you're surrounded by a warmth not brought by thick furs. It's skin, all around you, boxing you in. On your face you feel hair, prickly and soft, comforting and frightening all at once.

Behind you, a chest breaths against your back. Your eyes open, alarm cutting through grogginess.

Johnnys big hand is clutching your breast, squeezing every few moments, snuffling into your neck like a sleepy animal.

You try to extricate yourself, lifting yourself to find Simon looking down at you, eyes half lidded but aware. There's warning there, but there's also contentment. Scars big and small litter his skin, pocked and torn and scraped, all shapes and sizes. Some are silvery while others are such a deep red you'd think they were still fresh.

He looks past you at Johnny, and turns to his side.

"Weren't planning on running, where you?" his voice is low, so as to not wake the other man.

"No," you whisper. Johnny shuffles behind you, sliding a thigh between your legs. "Please help me." you wiggle, trying to move.

Simon sighs, sitting up. He shuffles to the edge of the bed, then reaches to peel Johnnys hands off you. His hand slides against the soft spring of your breast, hands sliding under Johnnys to pull, brushing your nipple on the way up.

"Thank you," you're still whispering, not wanting to wake Johnny up lest it irritate Simon. You roll until you're out of his grasp, body feeling less pained than it did the day before.

"Hungry?" Simon moves towards the kitchen. "Got one more day to relax."

The feast, you think. The divide, the celebration. Frissons climb your skin until your scalp prickles.

"Yes, please," you sit up, weary of Johnny finding your heat in the bed.

The smell of animal fat and the sound of sizzling fills the cottage then. You look around, noting an improvement for the clutter. The sealskin is gone, replaced by two standing up boots.

"They're yours," Johnny says. You startle, almost leap, but he catches you by the hips and puts his face into your hair. "Simon stayed up all night."

"Gets cold," he dismisses. Eggs jump in the pan in front of him, popping in the hot tallow.

You have to be helped again to the table, but it's not so bad this time. You arm goes around Johnnys waist, his under yours, fingers barely brushing the underside of your breast.

Breakfast is good. Fried eggs, seasoned by the fat, over gruel. It fills you with an internal sense of strength, and you can actually finish it all today.

"Good girl!" Johnny claps your back. "Gonnae be choppin all our wood for winter, eh?"

After, Simon has you change into a simple brown wool dress. You try to ignore them looking at your nakedness as you drop the other shirt, but the wool is nice and warm and there's even a soft pale shift to go underneath it.

Then he slips pants on your legs, tied at the waist under the dress, and wraps wool around your calves.

"You're gonna run errands with me," Simon says. He wraps your feet again in wool, securing them with leather twine. "Get your strength up."

His eyes find yours where he's kneeling, squinting at you, expression turning stormy.

"I don't want to re-injure your wrists," he motions to them, and you look at the healing scabs. "But if you try to run, I'll drag you back by your hair n' tie 'em back up. You pick."

Outside, you wince against the light. Simon holds you by the elbow, walking at your weak pace. It's a tight village, houses clumped together, shops close. It's a wonder you haven't heard anyone from inside Johnny and Simons home, until you see how thickly the walls are built when the door opens.

The street is wet with mud, and you're grateful for the footwraps. They're warm against the chill, sliding through the mud beneath you when you lose your footing, legs feeling as new as a fawn.

"Here," Simon leads you to a market-like stall. Dried meats hang from the ceiling in bunches. The smell is pungent.

"Nik!" He shouts. A huge, burly man steps out.

They talk like they've known each other a long time, though not quite friends. An image of two great bears crosses your imagination, both big and still respecting the other. A rare alliance.

Simon hangs a bag off of you, a salty-smelling bag full of cured and fermented meats. The man looks down at you and grins as you leave, laughing lowly.

You bristle, but follow - what else is there to do?

The next stop is a real shop, only you can see a homestead behind a wooden counter.

It's a girl this time, lovely and soft. She smiles at Simon, wordlessly fetching another man from the homestead behind the store.

"Big man!" it's one of the raiders - the young one. Gaz. "And the nun." his brown eyes find yours, friendlier than the last time you saw him.

They talk, too, more amicably than the other man. Gaz folds his forearms over the counter and laughs, peeking at you every once in a while with intense eyes.

"Right," he claps his hands together. "I won't keep you."

You're starting to feel tired, overexerted.

Gaz comes back out with a wrapped package, the soft girl from before on his arm. The apples of her cheeks are high with a smile.

"See you!" she sits back down on her stool, wide hips wiggling until she's comfortable.

"See ya around," Gaz says. He winks at you.

Simon carries this package himself, not looking at you as he leads you further into the village.

People make way for him, not in fear, but because of his size. He's bigger than most, even some of the other men.

The third and final place has you panting, hunched with the effort of keeping yourself up.

It's a house not unlike Simon and Johnny's, just bigger. A wide, squat wooden house with a wide open door and goats bleating from a pen closeby.

Simon glances at you out of the corner of his eye, putting his hand on your lower back as somebody steps out of the doorway.

"Hello again, Simon," it's Price. The leader, or perhaps the chief. It would make sense - his authority, his size, the number of scars on his skin. Nearly as many as Simon. "You bring your end of the bargain?"

Straight to the point then. Price doesn't look at you once, which doesn't do much to assuage the fear that you're the end of the bargain.

"If you've got yours," Simon leaves you behind to follow him inside, where you can hear them talking. Jovial, like old friends.

By the time you get back home, you're wiped. Exhaustion pulls at you like invisible strings dragging you to the bed. Even Johnny with his smarmy expression and his patting the mattress doesn't stop you from crashing.

The men have brought you to a celebration. After letting you sleep a majority of the day after your errands, Simon dressed you in the same wool dress and wrapped a thick cape around your shoulders to ward off the chill.

It's a welcome home. Simon had been the first to see Price at his home - he and a band of fledgling warriors had sailed right past the village and gone hunting.

Price is not the chief, as you had assumed. He is a leader, an explorer, the ambitious spearhead of overseas raids. Nodding heads and a sense of respect, of deference, follows him wherever he goes. Even as an outsider you can see it.

The chief is a woman. It's not something you expected, not with the sheer size of the men around you, not with the brutality in which they regale their exploits. Many of them have wives that trail them, welcome them, carry their children on their hips, or are welcomed as fellow warriors.

These are the fledglings?

You're in a wild, barbaric place.

When you reach the longhouse, a building as short as all the others but stretched much farther and lit orange with light and the smell of honey, you're bathed in warmth.

No, not honey. Alcohol, sweet and cloying on the breath of each viking. Their depravity seems to know no bounds. It's the same sweet smell you'd smelled on Johnny that night he'd left - presumably to speak to the chief.

Laswell, they call her. The chief. She stands on a raised dais with Price, murmuring between themselves, nodding toward Simon and Johnny when they take their seats.

"Right here," Simon spreads his thighs. There are no other spaces on the bench.

"I don't mind standing," you try. He pinches the back of your knee until you buckle into him, tucked into the cradle of his arms. Your heart pounds in your chest.

"Not lettin' ye sit apart from us," Johnny brushes your cheek, and you look past him to the rest of the people gathered.

Decorated, scarred, hardened warriors. Price joins the group, taking a heavy seat by the man from before - Nik - and exchanging claps on the back. Gaz, a woman with dark hair, but Gaz's soft girl is nowhere to be found.

"Welcome!" Laswell shouts. The hall goes silent. "Drink, eat - celebrate a job well done by our boys."

Eruption; noise all around. She's a carefully controlled, steady woman, yet she's inspired this group of a few hundred into the loudest cacophony you've ever heard.

Simon cups his hands over your ears. You try not to be grateful.

Debauchery. You witness debauchery- drinking beyond your most twisted imagination, dancing surely enough to summon a demon, maybe the devil himself. It's enough to make you pray under your breath, turning away from public displays of affection.

Above you, in front of you, conversation. It doesn't slip your mind how high up on the table Simon and Johnny are, right across from Price and Gaz and next to Laswell at the head of the table.

Even she laughs, imbibes, discusses the distribution of goods with a content sort of smile.

"And the nun?" eyes turn to you. Laswell has focused her gaze on you, sharper than before. "You're satisfied with just her?"

Johnny takes a long pull of his mead, before pressing his shoulder to Simons.

"Thas'right!" he only slurs a little. "Found ourselves a proper little wife, we did."

A chill moves through you. A slow freezing. You tense in Simons lap, spine rigid, heart flipping in your chest. Carefully, you try not to show a reaction.

Wife?

"Och! Sorry, lamb," he turns to you and takes your hands. "Didnae mean to ruin the surprise."

"Quite the surprise," Gaz chirps. His girl has found him, and he's made a place for her beside him. You're jealous of her autonomy, especially now. Taken as prisoner, as spoils, and now?

"You promised," you mumble. "You said you wouldn't."

"What's that, love?" Gaz again, but you aren't listening. Blood rushes through your ears.

"You said you wouldn't force me," you look up now, at Simon and his deeply scarred face. He betrays nothing. "Why lie?"

"Didn't lie," he grunts. "Now be quiet."

"When's that, then?" Price asks.

"Before winter."

The walk back is silent except for the wet slaps of your feet against the mud. The chill is worse at night, biting at your nose and your fingers. At least your future husband - husbands - don't want you to freeze.

The thought hits you like a boulder, heavy and immovable. You stop walking, drawing the attention of the observant men.

"Too tired?" Johnny asks.

You run.

Or try to, as fast as you can.

It's hard in this terrain, slippery and with the cold burning your cheeks. You have no direction in mind, only obeying the mindless terror coursing through your blood, unleashed by this night of truths.

Simon is the one to catch up to you not ten feet from where you started, grabbing the back of your cape and pulling hard until you fall on your butt.

It hurts, the ground has slowly been freezing with the onset of fall and Simon is not nice as he captures you back.

"Ow," you sniffle, fingers wet and muddy.

"Yeah I bet that hurt," his voice has gone hard. "Where did you think you were going?" a laugh, harsh and grating.

"Didnae mean to scare ye," Johnny says. He helps Simon in dragging you back to to cottage.

"In!" Simon barks when you reach the door. You plant your feet, frustrated tears prickling hot and then falling down your cheeks in heavy droplets. "Stupid girl- get inside."

The insult adds salt to the wound as you stumble onto your hands and knees. Pain lances up your wrists.

"Did'ya think you'd be able to what, survive by yourself?" he scoffs. Johnny helps, but mostly just acts as if you're a doll, in removing your cape and sodden woolen dress.

The shift is wet, too. Less muddy than the dress, but still wet. Johnny slips it over your head and you cross your arms to hide your nakedness, still crying.

"Hey," Simon crouches. He puts his face close to yours, noses touching, eyes deadly. "I didn't lie. We won't force you, you'll come to us."

"You'll go to hell," you're upset now, but it only serves to make them shake their heads and laugh breathily, silently. "You stole me."

"Aye, we did," you're wiped dry by big hands. "And you'll be our wife."

Another slip goes over your head, thin and rough on your skin, well-worn.

"Get in bed."

Johnny listens and brings you with him, wiping the tears from your face as he lays you down. You're as helpless as a lamb.

"If I have any choice," you start. "I won't be your wife, and I won't-"

"Wheesht!" Johnny pulls you to him, hand over your mouth, making room for Simon. His other hand goes over your stomach, squeezing. Warmth surrounds you. "You're overexcited, ye need some rest."

God help you, you're so tired you do.

[lokisgoodgirl]

Husband [Asgard!Loki x Fem.Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: After a lifetime of longing, it's finally time to seal the deal. Follow on to Heirs - but can be read as a one-shot (w/c 1.8k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Asgardian HC. Fluff & Smut.

The silk chiffon of Loki’s robe tingled against his skin, sash loosely bound. There would be no guards in the corridor that stretched to his chambers. Not tonight.

Pacing barefoot across the marble floor, he noted the squeeze of a damp hand intertwined with his. Steam from the palace baths dissipated from the air with every stride. There were no words needed, just the pad of your footsteps following close behind his own.

With a nudge of his head, Loki sent a wave of seidr rolling up your bodies. You giggled quietly, the delicate sound echoing. The god threw a glance over his shoulder, seeing your newly dried hair bounce as your steps quickened. “Hurry,” you chided, stifling another giggle. Loki turned on his heels, feet squeaking on the polished floor to a stop. You collided with his chest. “You do not command me, wife,” he warned, squinting theatrically before breaking into a smile. Loki’s heart leapt at your gasping laugh as he swept you off your feet, the drape of your matching robes scratching together. Your legs hung over one elbow, his hand securely fastened around your midsection. Loki would never forget the way your pupils dilated as you stared into his eyes, the whole world growing out of focus around what was in his grasp. Around you. “I love you-” he breathed, cutting himself off by leaning to catch your lips. The heavy wooden doors to his chambers opened of their own accord, recognising their master's presence. He let his tongue explore deeper with every powerful stride towards the matrimonial bed, slow and purposeful and all-consuming. Loki stopped, breaking the kiss to take in what lay before you both as the door swung shut. Dozens of tall candles adorned the arched windows, throwing an orange glow towards the navy dusk of Asgard sprawled below, just out of sight. White fur pelts draped across his bed, neat emerald sheets replaced with luxurious folds of cream and beige. Loki’s mouth twitched in mild disapproval. “Look,” you said, excitedly patting his shoulder and nodding towards a table by the fireplace. Lit by soft flickering flame, he saw the traditional finger-food of Asgardian gentry laid out on delicate piles. Each plate more tempting than the last. “Yes, very nice,” Loki hummed feebly, giving the scene a cursory glance before his attention was drawn unavoidably back to the pulse of your neck. Furious desire was thudding in him like the drums of war. It was becoming unbearable. His cock, violently hard and swollen and aching against his stomach. It had a heartbeat. Loki tightened his grip on your body in his arms, inhaling against the angle of your jaw. He sucked at the scent of your clean skin like oxygen, drowning. “Husband?” you moaned softly. She’s impatient. Loki felt every hair on his arms erect in unison.

One of your hands moulded to his cheekbone as you pressed your forehead to his, nuzzling his mouth until he relented. Your lips working against his own, Loki made the final steps to the bed before reluctantly lowering you to the pile of furs. He retreated, drinking in every inch of flimsy white chiffon that did nothing to hide the curves beneath. How she taunts me, he thought with a smile; pulling lightly at the sash around his waist, this wife of mine. The two of you were no virgins. But tonight, it felt like it was so. Wisps of half-forgotten memories twisted deep in the god’s mind; uprooted from their slumber. And another, and another. Like they belonged to someone else.

Lovers of every rank and station, known to him in dark hallways and golden bedchambers. The half-remembrances evaporated like smoke. But none like this, he thought with a comforting smile as his chiffon robe pooled around his ankles. He could feel the warmth rising in your cheeks, radiating from the coyness of your smile. None like her. Loki clasped his hands behind his back, raising his chin. He felt your appraising gaze dart up his displayed body, a series of rapid breaths beginning to pepper the air making his heart swell. Your gentle pants fluttered against his obliques, denying yourself the taste of his skin until the hallowed words had been spoken. They caught behind his teeth. The prince felt his abdomen clench, every muscle in his body resisting the urge to fall upon you. A wild tide on rocks.

“Will you accept me as your husband to your bed this night?” he uttered, laden with ceremony. You straightened in front of him, slow hands tugging at the fastening of your robe.

“Yes, my lord,” you answered seductively, looking him dead in the eye. “I will.”

The sheer fabric began to slip from your shoulders. The exchange was a formality. A tradition. But as Loki’s fingers wrapped around his straining cock, feeling fat droplets of pre-cum roll against knuckles; he conceded it was one Asgardian tradition he was glad to keep.

With an arm outstretched, you dropped the delicate robe onto the stone floor by his feet. Loki could feel the growl building in his throat. Low, primal. A shudder rolled over his biceps as you leant back on your elbows, drawing the soles of your feet onto the bed. He let his eyes run over the lines of your body, the flex of your thighs, the plump sweetness of your curves. She will be the death of me, he thought as he inhaled a staggered breath. No, he pondered after a beat, lowering to place his palms on either side of your shoulders. She is the beginning.

His fingers trembled as he placed one hand over your heart, eyes never leaving yours. “Do you trust me?” he murmured, barely audible. You frowned, glancing to where his fingers lay. “Always,” you whispered. The skin beneath his touch glowed green as Loki’s eyes fluttered shut. He opened them tentatively, softening. “The bond of my protection,” he explained bashfully, “now, if ever you need me, I will be with you.”

His heart dropped as your face scrunched, cupping his jaw. “You were always with me,” you said softly, straining upwards to place a gentle kiss on his parted lips. And in that moment, Loki knew. He worked his mouth across the curve of your cheekbone, wordless sounds of adoration soaking every step. “Lie back,” he whispered hot in your ear. His stomach flipped, realising as you reclined against the furs that he hadn’t been this nervous since the very first time. Or perhaps, even then. The god watched your eyes widen with excitement as he nudged your legs further apart with his knees. With aching intensity, he mapped each spark in your eyes as he dragged his cock along your soaking slit from root to tip. It nudged, gently.

“Loki," you gasped quietly, arching your back in frustration. He smiled, trying to remain serious. “What, my love?” he heard himself tease, inhaling against your neck with a shameless moan. Like pollen on a breeze, he felt your words soak through his skin. Through his soul. I need you. And, Loki thought, she means it.

He wondered if anyone else ever truly had.

The god raised his head, cursing the dark curls which fell forward from his braids against your face, obscuring the view. Your fingers combed past his shoulders, pushing the veil back. “There you are,” you whispered with a smile. He felt himself nod once, stare boring into your own. You nodded back, squeezing your knees against his trunk in encouragement.

Gasps filled the space between you as he eased the heavy tip of his manhood inside your channel. Inside the very essence of you that he had longed for. Every inch was a simmering feast of pleasure, the denial of centuries building to a single, strangled gasp of your name. Loki felt his brows slant, the sight of you beneath him almost more than he could bear. Careless lust rose in waves, firing through his bloodstream as he filled you to the hilt. Careful, he chided himself. Slowly. Every inch of your pussy was perfection, as he knew it would be. Every vein and ridge of his cock dragged tight against your flawless heat. A man could lose himself for eternity inside this pleasure if he wasn’t careful, each pull of your tight slippery cunt against his foreskin making him ascend. And not just a man, he thought through the drunken haze, a god. He choked with a rasping groan, letting his head fall into the curve of your neck. Loki began to pant as words of devotion licked the air like flames, your fingers trailing over the weaving curves of his ceremonial braids. “Don’t hold back,” you whispered wet in his ear, “not tonight.” Loki pulled his head back, a strand of saliva dangling from his lip as his brow furrowed. There was a new light in your eyes, something dark and hungry. Something familiar. Something him.

He tilted his head to the side, his eyes narrowed. “Wife,” he gasped through breathy pants and shallow thrusts, “are you asking me to-” “-fill me,” you groaned, an impish smile tugging your dimples, "heirs, remember?" Loki’s eyes rolled back as you bucked your hips up, thudding your pelvic bones together. The snug warmth of your pussy was unbearable.

The prince remembered the way you had come undone beneath his mouth earlier this evening in the palace baths. The way that your fresh cum had flooded his outstretched tongue. He felt his thighs tense. His balls, tight. “My love, I-” he gasped, feeling you tug a clutch of his hair. Loki hissed, his jaw set. “I’m trying to be romantic,” he spat, yanking his head away like a child. He stared down with fiery determination, the flash in his eyes punctuated with a punishing thrust of his hips. You moaned approvingly below him, a teasing grin stretching across your face. Loki’s heart melted. My wife, he thought lovingly; before slamming his cock deeper with a squelch. He felt the scratch of your fingernails over thick shoulder muscle, the tightening of your thighs making him judder. “We have our whole lives for romance, Loki,” you cooed, the syllables staggered between each slap of his hips, “tonight I...uhhh- just want you to f-fuck me, f-finally.”

The god released the growl that had been marinating in his throat, stretching a hand above your head. He gripped a clutch of furs tight in a fist. “I fucking love you,” he rasped, beginning to roll his hips in targeted, deep thrusts. “I- oh g-god, fucking lo-love you, my p-prince” you whined, catching his mouth in a messy kiss.

Loki pulled away from you, shaking his head with a broken sigh. He could feel the most powerful orgasm he had ever experienced building in his belly, your soft moans sending his soul to new planes. It was perfection, the two of you. Nothing would ever compare. Nothing ever should. “Not your prince-” he grunted, knuckles whitening against the furs as he spun out the feeling as long as it could last. Edging himself. “-husband,” -was the last word Loki heard before climax deafened him.

Tags @lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @psychospore @littlespaceyelf @itsybitchylittlewitchy

[helps-the-writing-brain-go]

⚡️In the Eye of the Tiger (Companion) 🐯⚡️

Tawny buries his head in the crook of Billy's neck and breathes in deep, committing his scent to memory.

The boy still smells of milk and powder under all that dirt, barely out of infancy if Tawny has anything to say about it; but fending for himself like a full-grown cub.

There's a burgeoning lice colony nesting in his hair and old blood under his fingernails and wafting off somewhere in the vicinity of his sleeves and tattered, too big jeans.

Scraped elbows and knees, most likely.

Untreated and stinging something fierce, most definitely, but the dear boy had said not a word.

"Do you need anything, little one?"

Tawny prompts his youngest charge yet.

Billy hunches in on himself, cradling the kittenish form to his chest and shakes his head.

Tawny rumbles disapproving, the thunderous sound made adorable by his new stature. Almost a purr really, which nearly elicits a smile from the boy.

"Are you hungry, perhaps?"

A shrug.

"Thirsty?" Tawny presses.

Another shrug, though Billy does lick his cracked lips, looking uncertain.

"Surely there is something-"

The magical tiger is soon cut off by a dual interruption in the way of a rumbling stomach, and a jaw cracking yawn quickly stifled in a faded, red sleeve.

Tawny grins like a cat that'd caught both the canary and gotten into the cream.

"A snack then, and then bed. There's a number of fine fabrics to make a comfortable den around, and oh, have I told you of the Cafe of Eternity? Just about everything you could think of to eat in there-"

Billy pulls himself to his feet at the feline's urging, gasping in surprise as Tawny leaps down, immediately growing in size beneath him till it is Billy sprawled on his massive, striped back.

His small fingers bury themselves in the tiger's thick fur, and Tawny allows himself a fanged smile out of Billy's eyeline as the boy curiosity kicks in and he begins to pipe in with questions on the Rock's facilities as Tawny pads his way through its winding tunnels.

Yes, he and the new Champion would be just fine.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Stuff You Like A What?! (Demon Alastor x Reader)

CW: Tentacles, gags, edging, orgasm denial, established relationship, suspension, cream pies Rated: Adult Requested by: @redvexillum Summary: As your lover is just about to reach his finish, you complete a dare issued by Angel Dust. The unexpecting words leaving your mouth leaves Alastor's finish in ruins and he is a man that feels an eye for an eye is far too merciful...

You moaned, body arching into Alastor’s touch as his pace turned slightly rougher. Still, your lover’s touch remained sweet, even as he chased his orgasm, having delivered you your second. 

Static filled your ears as he worked his cock through your quivering walls. He twitched inside you, so close now to his own release. You knew, a few more thrusts, and he’d be done for. 

It was now or never. You took a dare, and you’d be damned if Angel Dust was going to hold a failure to hold up your end of the deal. 

“Ah- Al?” You arched your back as the wide head of Alastor’s cock nudged your cervix, preparing to deliver a load of his seed.

“Yes, my love?” He panted, hand running up the bed to lace his fingers in yours.

“S-Stuff me with your hot cum,” you said as his thrusts turned wilder. “Stuff me like a twinkie, Mr.- Mr. Radio Man.” 

Alastor’s body froze. The sound of a record scratching cut through the air as he looked down at you, cock twitching inside of you slightly. His eyes were wide and his mouth hung open as frustration burned through his blood. He had been on the edge, just one more thrust and he wouldn’t have been able to stop and you- you ruined it. 

“What did you say?” He asked, voice lacking the heat of passion that had been there just moments before. 

You grinned up at the man you loved. He looked down at you, his smile pulled tight with the aftermath of the ruination of his orgasm. 

“I said,” you wiggled your hips, delicious friction rewarding you. “Stuff me like a twinkie, Mr. Radio Man.” 

Alastor growled as you dissolved into giggles. Each contraction of your abdominal muscles pulling and pushing against his cuck with every laugh that fell from your lips, ensuring that while the orgasm was ruined, he wouldn’t soften inside you. 

Shadow tentacles reached around, wrapping around your arms as they pulled you from the plush bed. They pulled you through the dim room, reaching out from the darkness as you stumbled along. 

“Alastor?” Your voice trembled as the tentacles pulled your arms up and out. “What are you-” 

A tentacle wrapped around one of your legs as Alastor stood from the bed, dim green light highlighting every valley and dip of the lean muscles that coiled around his body. There was a light coating of fur over his body, thin and smoothe, something you’d never have thought you could adjust to and yet when you fell in love it became natural. 

The fur over your partner’s body was as natural as the fourth rope of black shadow magic, wrapping around your free ankle. Your legs were pulled apart, feet slipping over the slick wooden floors. Tighter and tighter, your limbs were pulled apart until you resembled a starfish. 

A cold smoothe appendage reached up from behind you, caressing over your weeping slit, still so ready to be filled by Alastor. Your hips rocked, making use of what little slack you had to chase that cold caress. 

You and Alastor’s relationship was still new, in the grand scheme of hell and the intimate extension of it was even more so new. There was the comfortable familiarity that came from months spent in eachother’s company prior to anything progressing more than fleeting touches that allowed for light-hearted teasing, but this, this was something new. 

“I’m sorry,” your voice quivered as shadows pulled your arms higher, forcing your heels off the ground. Burning spread through your shoulder joints, only relieved a slightly by what weight you could put on your toes. A tentacle wrapped around your waist, coiling up your torso and wrapping around your breast, taking much of your weight off the joints.

It was hard to tell what was going through your lover’s mind. His ever-present smile obscured his thoughts and while you could read him more and more as each week went by, it was a skill you were far from proficient in. 

“You’re sorry?” Alastor’s deep voice was full of gravel and static. “HA!” 

“I- I didn’t mean to make you angry,” you trembled in the grasp of his shadows as he stalked up to you, cock bobbing with each step he took. His head was red. Your slick glistened on his shaft, reflecting the dim green lights on his bulbus head, highlighting every vein as he prowled closer. 

“Angry?” Alastor laughed, trailing his hand over your flushed skin as he stepped behind you. Leaning over your shoulder, he whispered in your ear, “Why would I be angry?” 

You struggled to answer as his hands smoothed down your back, fingers wrapping around your tail and pulling it. Pain and excitement flared inside you as your empty core clenched around nothing. Sharp red eyes watched how your body reacted, taking in and cataloging every twitch of a muscle in response to his actions. There was still a deep well of you that Alastor could learn from. 

“It was a silly dare,” the words rushed from your lips as a shadow tentacle grazed over your nipple, “A dare, that’s all- I didn’t- didn’t mean to offend you.” 

“You didn’t,” Alastor hummed, his hand slipping around your waist, easily moving through the shadow tentacle as if it wasn’t there, as if it wasn’t something very real, wrapped around your body and supporting you. “You simply shocked me, that’s all.” 

Alastor’s fingers caressed over your pubic mound, slipping down your folds. He had expected you to be wet. You had been slick with need when he had pulled his cock from your warmth. The state of your folds now betrayed so many desires you had yet to discuss with your new partner.

That was alright. 

Alastor was an intuitive man. Sure, he hadn’t intended to leave you strung up for more than a few minutes to make you squirm, but considering what his fingers found between your legs, his plans changed. 

It took one touch for Alastor to realize you enjoyed being restrained. You were excited. Not only were you wet from your earlier intercourse, but slick was running down your legs. A glob of it hung between your legs, slowly reaching toward the ground only to be scooped up by Alastor’s fingers.

“I was on the edge,” Alastor snarled in your ear, feeling the shiver that ran up your spine through the shadows holding you in place. 

Oh yes, you liked this far more than he expected you to. That was just fine by him. He enjoyed the way you looked spread out for him, held open and unable to do anything but take whatever he gave you. He was a predator, after all- what better than having his prey trapped and waiting. 

What else did you like that he didn’t know about? That perhaps you didn’t know about yourself?

Reaching around you, he palmed your heavy breast, rolling a nipple around his fingers. Your head fell back, resting against his chest as his fingers caressed your folds, bringing the coil inside you to life. 

“Alastor?” You rocked your hips, able to do little more than that as he brought you closer and closer. Your slick coated his fingers, making a mess of his hand as the coil tightened almost to the point of breaking. Just as your legs trembled, his hand ran up your stomach, letting the coil unwind. 

“That is what you did to me,” Alastor said. “Frustrating, isn’t it?” 

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered as his cock rutted against your lower back. “Please, Alastor, let me down?”

“I don’t think I will,” Alastor laughed as a squeak jumped off your tongue, shadow tentacles running up your legs, curling around your knee and then working over your thighs. “I find I rather like you, just like this.” 

“What do you mean?” Your body jumped as the blunt tip of a tentacle worked through your folds, gathering slick. “What are you doing?” 

“Well,” Alastor’s hands ran over your body, caressing up your ribs and the soft curve of your stomach as another tentacle wrapped around your throat, squeezing lightly, “I’m going to do what you did to me,” a tentacle worked its way into your mouth, pushing past your lips as you tried to protest, gagging you. “What you did to me, again and again.” 

Alastor smiled as your protests were nothing more than muffled vibrations. A tentacle worked into your cunt, invading you in another way you had never experienced. It never occurred to you that he would use his tentacles on you sexually, though you had hoped to cross that bridge at some point. 

Oh, you clenched around him, body taking in the cold shadow easily. He watched you as he sank the shadow deeper into your core, cooling the burning fire in your body from the inside out. He took it slowly, feeling his way through your walls as he stretched you around the appendage. 

Once he felt the resistance of your cervix, he pulled the tentacle from you only to ram it home, again and again. Squelching sounds filled the room, along with your breathy gasps and muffled cries. Alastor ran his fingers over your clit, caressing you softly as the thin tentacle fucked harshly into your cunt.

Your body tensed and trembled. His sensitive ears could hear the thundering beat of your heart in your chest and every whine that was a gagged attempt at his name. Muscles tensed and bunched as he took you quickly to the edge a second time. 

Just as your body was about to let go, he withdrew his touch. The tentacle slipped from your core with a lewd, wet squelch. A rope of slick kept you connected to it as Alastor stepped around, moving into your line of sight. 

“That’s twice,” Alastor said, tentacles pulling your legs up, bending them at your knees so that your puffy cunt was on full display for his hungry eyes. No part of you touched the floor now, suspended by his power alone. “Do you think that’s enough to pay for ripping my finish from me?” 

His cock bobbed, telling you yes. You tried to agree, tried to nod your head, but found no way to communicate. Your mouth was stuffed with the tentacle, spread fat and wedged between your teeth. Even if you wanted to spit it out, even if there was slack in the pressure pushing into your mouth, you wouldn’t be able to open your jaw any wider to do so. 

“I can’t hear you,” Alastor teased, hand resting on your waist as he stepped closer.

You tried to tell him with your eyes. Again and again, you tried to make your voice heard, but couldn’t make any sound more than a muffled moan. 

“I guess you don’t agree,” Alastor hummed, running his cock through your spread folds, re-wetting his drying head and shaft with the copious amount of slick that was pouring out of you. “What a good girl you are,” Alastor cooed, feeling the way your body clenched at his words, “Wanting to truly make it up to me.” 

You moaned, stifled by the gagging tentacle in your mouth as his cock speared you. The position he had you suspended in allowed him to reach deep. The tentacles suspending you shifted, leaning you back ever so slightly to align your opening perfectly with his fat cock. 

The burning stretch reminded you that while Alastor could control the size of his tentacles, he hadn’t fucked you with anything as thick as his cock since you had made good on your dare with Angel Dust. 

“Mmmpf,” you moaned around the tentacle in your mouth as he bottomed out, the head of his cock pressing tightly against your cervix at this angle. Never had he reached this deeply inside you. 

He didn’t give you a chance to adjust to his considerable size. As soon as his balls nestled against your asshole, he was ripping his length from your body. He plunged into you again and again with such force that your body rocked back in the arms to the tentacles. 

Strong hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you down against his pelvis to meet each of his thrusts. He fucked into you harshly, chasing the orgasm that your words denied him earlier. 

Unlike every time he had taken you before, he did not reach for your clit. He did not grind his pubic bone into it. He did nothing at all to ensure your clit got stimulated with every thrust. If anything, he did the opposite, leaning his hips back to give your clit space while still pushing his balls into you. 

“Ffuck,” Alastor groaned out as you felt his cock twitch. You moaned as he painted your walls white, clinging to the feeling of his swelling cock twitching with the force of his orgasm as he was fucking his seed deep into you. He slowed and finally stilled. 

What you expected to happen was that he would lean forward, see you to your finish as he softened inside you. Better late than never, right? He would take the tentacle from your mouth, letting your jaw relax. 

Instead, his fingers gripped your hips tighter. His cock twitched, quickly growing harder again as he remained inside you. You moaned around the gagging shadow in your mouth as he began thrusting again. 

It was less than a dozen thrusts for him to reach full hardness again. Thick and heavy, his cock glided through your sloppy walls easily. You moaned, back arching as he allowed the angle to shift again, granting you the sweet stimulation you craved.

Tears ran down your eyes as the head of his cock bullied every secret part of you. Toes curled as he allowed himself to make contact with your swollen clit. Each thrust into you had his pubic bone slapping into your clit, drawing a sharp cry from your throat. 

It took little to have you on the edge of being swept away, each thrust taking you close and closer to completion. The force of his thrusts bounced you in your bindings. Though you were held tightly in place, your breasts bounced with the force of it. 

Tentacles wrapped around your breasts, holding them firmly in place as Alastor harshly pounded on. The rounded tips rolled over your nipples, teasing them. They coiled around the sensitive buds, pinching the tip harshly. 

“Ah! Ah!” The first syllable of his name was all you could make out clearly around the tentacle stuffed in your mouth. “Umgh!” 

“Are you close?” Alastor asked, panting with the effort of working through the aftershocks of his own orgasm. You nodded as best you could with the tentacles holding you in place. 

Alastor froze, the head of his cock resting just within you, his eyes wide. “Oh, dear?” He mocked, “What was that?” Your orgasm faded as tears gathered in your eyes. Every twitch of your hips was met with nothing but the feeling of the head of his cock within you. Your walls fluttered around nothing but the remnants of his seed inside you. Your opening squeezed his head as you willed the orgasm to wash over you, to no avail. 

“I’m sorry, did you lose your orgasm?” Alastor asked innocently, smile turning sharper when you nodded. “What a shame it is when that happens.” 

Alastor leaned back again, resuming the brutal pace as you sobbed around his tentacle, body twitching as it tried and found none of the stimulation it so badly needed to go over the edge. 

He twitched, hard and ready inside you. Your tears and desperation were the best aphrodisiac he could have ever asked for, rocketing him toward another orgasm in near record time. 

“Oh, Cher-” Alastor moaned as his cock twitched, swelling inside your abused hole, “You’re holding onto me so tight. Fuck, I’m- I’m close again.” He moaned your name, long and slow on his tongue as he deposed another round of seed within you. 

Everything twitched as you cried. The tentacle pulled from your mouth, smearing saliva down your chin as it wrapped around your neck. Sobbing gasps for air filled the room. Though you were no longer gagged, it was a struggle to make your jaw work again. 

“Please,” you whimpered as Alastor twitched to life again, “Please. I’m sorry.” 

You cried out as he resumed thrusting again, slowly at first, as he brought his cock back to life more and more with each thrust. 

“Are you alright?” Alastor asked softly as he worked his cock slowly into you again and again.

“I want,” words died in a gasp as his body brushed against your clit, so sensitive now. “I want to cum. Please, Alastor?” 

“You do?” He teased, hand caressing over sensitive skin as his fingers made thier way to your clit, so swollen and needy. “I did, too.” 

“You have,” you cried out, twitching in a uncoordinated attempt to grind against his hand. Each thrust into you was coming faster than the last. You could feel fluids dripping off your ass. Each of Alastor’s harsh thrusts sent the fluids that coated his balls flying, splattering skin and ground. “Please, Al- Alastor. Let me, let me cum. I want to! I’ll be so good for you.” 

“You beg so prettily, but no.” 

“Why?” You cried out, his cock running through your over sensitive folds as he thrusted unto you. “Why not?”

“You wanted,” he grunted as he selfishly fucked into you, chasing his own release again without a thought to yours, “Me to- how did you put it?” 

“Alastor!” You cried out as his cock slammed into your cervix.

“What did you want me to do?” he could feel you tightening around him again. It didn’t take long at all to push you toward the edge. “Say it.” 

“S-stu-uff,” your voice jumped with every harsh thrust as he drove you closer to the edge, “Stuff me, Ah! Wi-th your cr-ream.” Alastor slowed, listening to you cry out, tears of frustration running down your cheeks as your orgasm faded again. 

He waited, looking at you expectantly. It took longer than it should have to realize he wanted you to finish the statement. 

“Please, Alastor,” you couldn’t help the pleading in your voice. Forever ago, you said these same words teasingly, feeling like you were in control. Now you said them again, broken and only able to think about how badly you wanted to cum on his cock. “Please, Alastor. Stuff me,” you gasped as he thrusted harshly into you, releasing your breasts from his tentacles so that they bounced freely. “Stuff me with your cream.” 

“And?” He thrust harder into you, chasing his release, high on the power he had over your body. No longer did the words you spoke have power over him. They were his power now. 

“Fuck!” you cried out. “Stuff me like a fucking twinkie!” 

Alastor did just that, spilling a third load of his seed into you as if on command. His legs trembled as he struggled to hold himself up through his orgasm. 

“Good girl,” purred, pulling your legs around him as he lazily thrusted into you. This time, he sought no stimulation for himself. Arms wrapped around your back, pulling you to him as he fucked you, running your clit over the base of his cock again and again as your body quickly grew tense.

Alastor supported his weight with a wall of shadows as he fucked up into you. Your arms fell limply as the shadows unwound. Soon you were supported only by the shadows around your waist and legs, arms limply clinging to Alastor.

“Please,” you rested your head on his shoulder as he brought you closer and closer to the edge, “please, please. Alastor, please. Al- al- I want to, Please, let me-” 

“Shh,” he whispered, hand running down your back in a soft caress as he pushed you forward, fucking you slowly to the edge. “I’ve got you. I’ll take you there.” 

You fell over the edge, violently. Body clenched around him as you cried his name. It felt like you couldn’t take enough air into your lungs. They burned with the want of it. 

Alastor groaned softly, not expecting the power of your orgasm, finally having been granted to pull yet another, smaller from him. Spurts of seed pooled inside you as he emptied what meager supply of seed his balls still contained within you. 

He held you as black overtook your vision, body trembling and cunt convulsing around him, even as the power of your orgasm stole you from the world for a few moments. The both of you dissolved into shadows, rising up onto the bed only for him to lean back, cock still plugging your hole as he laid with you while he waited for you to rejoin him. 

Hands ran lazily up and down your back as you blinked the blackness from your eyes. Alastor hummed a jaunty jazz tune as he stroked your back, doing his best to ignore the tickle of his seed and your fluids, leaking from your opening as his cock softened inside you, allowing it to run down his shaft and over his balls. 

It would be uncomfortable come morning, but he had no interest in standing at the moment. In a bit, he would get up, change the sheets and clean you both up. For now, all he wanted to do was hold your trembling body to him as he waited for strength to return to his legs. 

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord where we talk Vox, Hazbin, writing, reading, art and who knows what else. You may even catch some exclusive sneak peeks at upcoming fics from some of your favorite writers!

[thebluester2020]

[ZZZ] Kinktober Day 1: "Praise Kink"

Summary: For recently completing a job to near perfection, Lycaon decides that praise and a good reward are in order.

Warning(s): Heavy focus on praise kinks here lol, Lycaon being typical wolf daddy here, Knotting (towards the end ofc).

Side Note(s): Not my ass forgetting to put warnings— sorry y’all 😭. That’s what I get for thinking it was a good idea to post this early while I was half-awake 🫠

Your heart was in your throat as you stood a short distance from your boss, his eyes scanning over the report you had just written after completing a job a few days ago.

One that wasn't easy in the slightest you might add.

Your client had contacted the Victorian Housekeeping Co. in order to seek help finding a lost relic that had apparently been passed down through his family for generations upon generations! Why the family would forget such an important relic? You wouldn't dare ask the question for fear of seeming rude.

But you took the job nonetheless.

After battling through hordes of Ethereals throughout the Hollows, having to contact Wise and Belle to make sure that you got through the areas safe and soundly. You had found the relic, the item accurately matching the description!

Although you appreciated how your client thanked you a million times over for finding his family's relic, you admittedly weren't interested in his praise.

The person you really wanted praise from...was Lycaon, your boss.

It was hard enough to get the wolf thiren to crack a smile, much less get him to praise someone verbally. With the completion of this job, you hoped that you would obtain both in one sitting—

"Hmf." The gruff sound snapped you from your rambling thoughts swiftly, quickly making you straighten yourself up as if you were a soldier. "You did good."

Your thighs clenched at the praise, your cheeks quickly flushing red at his praise. "T-Thank you!" You squeaked out.

"The client was happy, he praised how professional and timely you were with his request. Not a single scratch was on his relic, even after fighting off so many Ethereals." Your eyes were trained on him as he pushed himself away from his desk, walking around the wooden object to come closer to you. Each metallic step was piercing to the ears in comparison to the overall silent room, beads of sweat beginning to drip down the back of your neck out of nervousness whilst your needy cunt told a different story.

You didn't lie to yourself and say that you weren't attracted to your boss.

In fact, you were very attracted to him. So much so that a single line of praise had you nearly falling to your knees while the sheer fact that he was so close to you almost creamed your panties on the spot from how aroused you were! An arousal that your boss could definitely smell.

Not that he'd let you know that just yet, of course.

"For such good work, you deserve a reward. Don't you think?" A quiet gasp left you when he placed a hand on your shoulder. A smirk steadily crept onto Lycaon's face at your nervousness, one that didn't befit you with how potent the scent of your arousal was.

Finally, however, you nodded your head. "Y-Yes...?" You mentally cursed yourself at how your response sounded like a question.

But... thankfully, Lycaon didn't comment on it as he led you to a room that was more...secluded.

. . .

"F-Fuck—! L-Lycaon...!" You moaned wantonly as you were bounced up and down on your boss' lap in a full nelson, your hand wrapped around the back of Lycaon's neck as you grabbed at his fur in an attempt to ground yourself.

However, that proved to be an impossible task with the way his cock was drilling your insides, his cock filling you in such an addictive way as he pressed every pleasure spot inside your soaked cunt. For such a serious-looking guy, one who looked so kept together as if nothing disturbed him...he fucked you as if he were releasing pent-up tensions. "Gods..." He panted in your ear as one of his clawed hands reached for your aching clit.

"L-Lycaon!" You cried out as his fingers carefully but expertly began to flick your clit, a hiss leaving the wolf thiren's mouth as the rapid swiping of your nub elicited in you further clenching around his cock. "G-Gods..." You continued to squirm and moan much to your boss' amusement.

"Be still little maid," He whispered in your ear. "Let your boss reward you." He continued with a deep chuckle, the noise going straight to your cunt as his breath fanned over you. You let out a shaky breath as you felt your orgasm approach you, your eyes began to flutter as your thighs started to shake in Lycaon's clawed grip.

"C-Close..." You hakily whispered out.

Silently, he increased his pace, squelching and the rapid slapping of your two bodies meeting filling your ears and nearly drowning out your moans. As Lycaon fucked you, his fingers beginning to gently pinch at your clit in addition to starting to increase his rapid circling of your clit, a groan escaped him as he stuck his nose in the juncture between your neck and shoulder. He'd been wanting you since the day you waltzed into his office all those months ago.

Pleading and begging him for a job even if it was something so menial such as being a janitor.

Usually, he wouldn't let personal feelings interfere with work but...you, you were a special exception. Especially with how obvious your body was when you were around him, every night, he'd have to go into his private quarters to fist his cock whenever he'd catch a whiff of your arousal, panting and moaning out your name into his hand while the lewdest scenes imaginable would play out in his mind.

A growl rumbled from his chest as he felt his climax quickly approaching. "So good for my cock...just want to keep you here forever—" You tightened at his words, a toothy smirk crossing his face immediately. "You like that?" He began to thrust up into you harder. "Being my cute little toy for me to sheath my cock in? That could be your new job..." He suggested, his tongue lolling out to lick the side of your face messily as his smirk only grew at the idea.

And as your cunt wept out more of your slick, white dots began to appear in your vision as your moans increased in volume.

The idea of being your boss' own personal pleasure toy... didn't sound too bad. "You'd look so good being filled every day, wouldn't you Miss Y/N?" Lycaon continued to tease and talk in your ear. "Then again, it'd be so hard to get anything done knowing I have a tight sheath waiting for me so patiently back home..."

Being fucked on his thick dick day in and day-out, hearing his praises about how good he felt as he used your body, and receiving kisses from him on the daily. Oh, it was a dream come true for you! And that very dream plus the slight pain of Lycaon's claws beginning to dig into your thighs as he neared his orgasm, is what gave you that final push over the edge as you screamed out his name.

Your back arched against Lycaon just as his thrusts began to lose rhythm, his jaw falling slack, and his moans and growls of pleasure being replaced with panting as he fucked you through your orgasm, all before he suddenly stilled as quiet whines left his jaw as you suddenly felt his hot cum shoot deep inside of you, filling you to the brim as he did his best to keep from digging his claws too harshly into your thighs.

"S-So much..." You said, breaking the comfortable silence as you came down from your high.

Behind you, Lycaon gently removed his hand from your sex before he reached into his breast pocket to pull out a handkerchief. Not even to wipe away his cum oozing from your sex but, enough to tide you over until his knot died down, rubbing his fingers along your thighs as he tried to soothe and massage your sore muscles. "Are you uncomfortable—" His words choked up with a groan when he felt you move.

"No," You responded tiredly as you leaned back onto his chest.

Good, he thought. Because even when his knot died down...he planned to reward you soooo much more for your efforts.

[shalomniscient]

“are you sure you have everything?”

lyney huffs a bit of a strangled laugh, but nods. he’s somewhat used to your fussing, but it still feels a little… not exactly embarrassing, but a warm heat makes its way from his chest to his cheeks nonetheless. he holds the magic pocket bag closer to his chest as you fix the fastenings of his fatui cloak yet again, fiddling with the clips and ensuring they’re secure and not about to fly off in the harbor wind as it blows freely around them all.

“i’m all set,” he assures you, then glances over at lynette. she’s still a little woozy—it is the break of dawn, after all, since father prefers moving under the dense cover of darkness, and though lynette is awake she’s certainly not ecstatic to be awake. as a result, she’s the next target of your fussing; you gently pat her cheeks to wake her up a little more, and she lets out almost a small, mewling noise before snapping out of her drowsy daze.

“you can rest a little more on the ship, lynette,” you say, and the young woman nods. “if you get seasick, i packed some medicine. and i made some food if you get hungry; it won’t last very long on a ship, so remember to eat it, okay? oh—i also packed earmuffs, be sure to wear them if it gets too cold, alright?”

“understood,” lynette answers, leaning into your touch as you pat her hair. she’s always been more physically affectionate with you, though she tempers herself when the familiar sound of boots and metallic heels on stone tiles echo behind all of you.

“i take it everyone is prepared to set off?” comes father’s calm, even tone. behind her is freminet; he isn’t dressed for travel, since he’ll be staying in fontaine, but followed along to see them off. she’s dressed somewhat similarly, but unlike lyney and lynette who seem to drown in their cloaks, father wears it like a mantle—the fur broadens her already broad shoulders, and she looks more like a king than ever. and yet despite that, you simply turn and stride over to her, your hands reaching out to smooth down the lapels of her cloak.

“just double checking,” you hum, though there’s a little bit of a sigh in your voice. “i think i packed everything.”

father offers you a mild look. “the children know how to pack their own things.”

“i know, but i wanted to help,” you reply, and lyney swears he sees the hard lines of her face soften imperceptibly. there’s a slackness to her normally tense posture as you do all your last minute checks—cufflinks? i have them. hand cream? yes. ID? all settled, dearest—and lyney has to marvel on the sway you have over their typically unshakeable father.

“we should head out,” she says gently, taking one of your wrists in a tender, dark hand. a brief flicker of stubborness flashes across your expression, before you sigh.

“ah, before i forget…” you produce a tiny pouch, and then place it into father’s open palm. she regards it curiously, tilting her head. there’s a rustle of plastic inside, but also the clack of a few hard objects hitting each other. “coffee candies,” you explain, “for when you feel sleepy.”

“thank you,” father says, her tone as warm and soft as it always is with you. she accepts the pouch, and slips it into one of her cloak pockets. “i will remember to have them.”

you huff. “you better. i’ve already told lyney and lynette not to let you skip meals, as you’re so prone to do.”

“is that so?” father asks mildly, glancing at them both, and it takes quite a bit to not shiver under her questioning gaze. lyney truly has no idea how he’ll convince father to eat later on this trip, but he figures dropping your name a few time should do the trick. he hopes.

“it is,” you say firmly, and then your tone softens again. you look up at father, and lyney cannot see your expression from here, but he knows the same is reflected in father’s—loving, with a hint of departure’s sorrow. “be safe. come home.”

“alwaus,” father answers, and lyney, lynette and freminet have the sense to look away when she leans down to kiss you chastely. they only look back up when father steps over to them, leaving you and freminet on the other side of the dock. she levels freminet with a look. “do not forget your duty, freminet.”

he nods resolutely, hugging pers a little tighter. “of course, father.”

(just a few moments ago, she’d pulled him to the side and gave him a direct order, as the fourth fatui harbingers and the knave.

“you will protect the house with your life,” she had said, her tone brookering no argument, though it wasn’t as if freminet was looking to argue. and though father has said ‘the house’, freminet had lived long enough there to know the truth of her words.

“yes, father. i won’t let anything happen to mom.”)

and then, with the bellow of a horn, their little ship sets off into morning light. lyney watches father’s face carefully as the dawn breaks, casting the harbinger’s expression in shades of warm gold. she’s uncharacteristically unguarded in this brief flash of a moment—not that she would ever admit such a thing, even upon threat of death. but lyney knows love is most felt when it is leaving, and so even as she turns on her heel to enter the cabin, he knows she’s already counting down the days before she can return home—return to you.

[flowerbetweenfangs]

Cream Filling: Chapter One

Warning: Use of drugs and dubcon.

(MC is dosed with an aphrodisiac and is all too willing... But you know)

This was originally posted on A03 and is my most popular work, so I thought I'd put it here.

I hope you enjoy.

Lightning flashed overhead, lighting up pitch black streets for an instant. Elle Shepard nearly slipped on a horribly placed patch of mud. Windmilling, she caught a streetlight and came to a stop. A crack of thunder made her let go. Another bolt struck, enveloping the buildings and pavement in a brightness that was almost blinding, before a loud boom shook the windows.

Finally, she came upon a neon sign, showing a drink being shaken, then poured into a martini glass. The glass then changed to a coffee mug, the shaker into a pitcher. The words read: Ramses Brew, Bar and Café.

Pushing open the door, Elle stepped inside and pulled down the hood of her raincoat. Closing her umbrella, she stuck it in the container with the rest. Music played, pool balls cracked, conversations blurred together in one continuous hum. A bartender passed out drinks, moving with inhuman speed.

Walking up to the bar, Elle took a seat on the stool near the end. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a stack of papers and set them on the polished wood.

“What will it-” The bartender flinched at her, their nostrils flaring. Their voice sounded like many people talking at once.

“Oh, you’re the human.” They reached into their pocket and pulled out a phone. Tapping on the screen, they sent a quick message and put it away. They dropped their voice and leaned in closer to her. “Sorry, our drinks are a little too strong for your kind.”

They were most likely a demon, with horizontal lined pupils and a pair of antlers. Their sunken face showed a skeletal structure that was more deer than human, with a slight brown fuzz instead of fur. Their hands were coal black, their fingers tapering off to a clawed end.

“Can I just have water?” She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry, her heart fluttering. Focus! The job was more important than a one night stand.

“Of course.” They bowed their head, before going to a new arrival at the bar.

Sighing, Elle debated pulling her hood back up when she felt the eyes on her. No, she’d have to get used to the stares if she wanted to get this job. A human woman, with dark hair and hazel eyes, wearing dress pants and a button up peach blouse. No horns, fangs, scales, or a tail. Not even markings that would signal she was a mage or tied to someone with magic. 

Swinging her leg back and forth, Elle sipped at her water, looking around the bar. There was a pair of trolls playing pool. A pair of drow were in the corner, looking like they were discussing more… Intimate plans. A human looking man sat on the couch, a cane between his legs. A spread of cards were on the table in front of him, small black wisps curling around them. He seemed to be the shortest occupant, he was probably a head and shoulders taller than her. 

“Ms. Elodie Shepard?” The voice made her turn.

An angular face stared at her. It was human in appearance, but black scales appeared like freckles, shimmering in the low light. A pair of ram horns curled around cheeks, the ends sharpened and looking ready to puncture anything that got near them. He was dressed in a white button up shirt and a red vest, with a black tie. He was young, appearing to only be in his early to mid 30s.

“Yes!” Elle held out her hand. The speaker took it in shimmering black hands that were very large compared to his body. They left a residue on her skin that she tried to discreetly wipe off when he turned around, looking at the loft above. "But please, call me Elle." 

“Let’s go talk more privately.” He walked to the bottom of the stairs, unclipping a chain that indicated the area was closed until the morning.

Elle nodded and followed him. Stepping aside, he allowed her to go first and clipped the sign back in place. Once the links were formed, a small bit of magic rumbled through the floor, making Elle’s knees weak. Gripping the handrail, she kept herself from falling and quickly climbed up.

Once they were in the loft, Ramses clapped his hands and a few candles lit. The light was warm and calming. There were a few couches set up, with a coffee table between each pair facing one another.

Taking a seat, Elle set her papers on the table and cleared her throat. Even with the water, there was still a tickle in her throat.

“Alright,” The man sat down. “So, as you may know, this is my business. Ramses Sesbrun.” He pushed his glasses up his nose. “I appreciate you coming out so late, but since demons don’t do so well in sunlight…” He shook his hand back and forth like he was tipping a scale. “I still have a limited staff, so I don’t have much of a day shift.”

Elle nodded. “It’s fine. I’ve got this.” She reached into her shirt and pulled out a silver chain, with wire wrapped around an obsidian stone.

Ramses flinched at the charm, before clearing his throat. Elle quickly stuffed it into her shirt and shuffled her papers.

“Alright. So as you may have noticed, we have a bit of a uniform.” He gestured to his attire. “It doesn’t matter if you prefer skirts or pants, just make sure it’s got a white button up shirt under your apron and a tie or scarf.” Inhaling sharply, he adjusted his glasses again. “We have a very diverse staff. If you do get the job, expect to work with all kinds of people.”

Elle simply nodded. “I know it is probably a strange thing, getting a human to apply.” The thought of being around so many demons and patrons of the “other side”, it was somewhat exhilarating.

“A little. But your safety is promised here,” Ramses insisted. “I’ll do what I can to make sure that you and your fellow employees are comfortable in this environment. Everyone here is just looking for a place to unwind.” He smiled at her, showing his teeth were fangs.

Shifting uncomfortably, Elle gave a smile. Those fangs looked like they could leave some decent hickeys. Wait, no, she had to remain professional. “Erm, not to sound too forward, but the job posting mentioned pay?” Right. Stay professional.

“Oh, right.” Ramses picked up a staff of his own papers from a table next to the couch. Flipping through the stack, he left small black thumbprints on each page. No wonder he needed help with the kitchen and other places. He probably couldn’t even touch the food he served his customers.

Finally, he stopped at what he was looking for. “I know the pay is high, but that means I’ll be expecting more from you. But if what I’ve heard about humans is correct…” His cheeks flushed. “Sorry. I don’t mean to rely on stereotypes, but I know humans are known for getting things done faster.” He clicked his mouth closed, not wanting to insert his foot into his mouth.

“Then you’ll be happy to know I fall into that!” Elle said quickly, hoping her tone didn’t sound too desperate. “I promise I’ll be fast and get the work done!” She clasped her hands together. “I just really… Need a job.” A job that seemed to offer a lot of eye candy...

Ramses nodded, taking her papers and flipping through them. “I’ve already read what you sent me, but I just want to make sure…”

He made a couple more noises of affirmation, before setting the now spotted pile down. “I don’t know if you’ll have a uniform on standby, but I think we might have something in your size. If you are willing to come in tomorrow, then I can have Wrecks and Horac show you the ropes.” Tapping a finger to his lips, Ramses’ brows knit together. “You don’t have Arachnophobia, do you?”

*** “Welcome to Ramses!” Elle called out, bowing her head. When she straightened, she ignored the look of befuddlement from the new arrivals. “Just two?”

After seating the pair, she bid farewell to some patrons as they left. They acknowledged her, but seemed more confused than anything else in her presence. When the door closed behind them, she went to quickly clean their table.

Despite looking bulky, the maid outfit they had provided her was light and cool, with a long skirt, deep pockets in the apron. She’d brought her own tights and comfortable shoes. Her hair was tied into a pair of buns to keep it out of her face.

The morning rush was a surprise. Most demons were supposed to be unable to walk in sunlight, but that didn’t stop the clientele from coming in, carrying parasols, charms to protect them, and even wrapping themselves in bandages.

The newly arrived pair were dragonborn, who had quickly fallen into an in depth discussion about maidens and maids. When she approached them with her notepad, pencil to the paper, they quickly quieted.

“Can I recommend one of our Ashburnt Scones?” She asked. “They’ve got an arsenic glaze!”

After taking down their order, Elle quickly scampered to the kitchen and placed the paper on the counter.

“A pair of Coalpressed Muffins with Ashen Dustings!” She called out.

The Drider at the stove nodded, pulling out some blood red pancakes with a tar like topping that he set on plates, the two smaller legs at his waist doing small clean up details. A pair of triple lens spectacles balanced on his nose, which he was constantly adjusting to allow a different pair of eyes to see. Despite his name being “Wrecks” he actually seemed rather dexterous and nimble.

The second was the boarman, Horac, who was frying several cuts of meat and eggs. He seemed immune to the open flames, casually reaching across them to turn over a large slice of ham. Elle tried to not think too hard about the implications.

“Breakfast rush is almost over, rookie.” He said, his voice barely audible over the chaos of the kitchen.

“Thanks!” She took the plates and lined them up on trays, before rushing back out to the main room with the orders.

“I can’t believe a real life human is here,” A goat headed man said as she passed.

“I know. And so fast, too.” Their companion appeared human, but their teeth were too sharp. Enough to pass the line from sexy to frightening.

Just smiling, Elle passed over their food, which they quickly began to ravenously tear into. The remarks, while strange, seemed mostly positive.

By the time the morning rush was over, Elle’s feet were killing her. She collapsed into a chair once the last customer left.

“Elle, can you tell Ram I’m coming in late tomorrow?” Horac said, not giving further details as he went out the back. The bell chimed as he left.

“Sure.” She merely lifted her hand to give a wave he wouldn’t see.

“I’m going out for a smoke,” Wrecks said, his voice jolting through her. He hadn’t spoken all morning, only cooked and passed the orders to Elle. The dishes and counters were clean, so she wasn’t going to complain.

Once the ache had mostly gone, she got up and went to change the menus over. The bell chimed again when her back was turned, and she quickly turned back around.

The newcomer had silvery hair, a pair of fox ears twitching on his head. His eyes were closed, his mouth pulled into a vulpine grin.

“Welcome to Ramses!” She tried to pour in the sugary sweetness that customers loved. “I’ll be with you in just a moment.” Hopefully, Wrecks wouldn’t mind serving up breakfast still. “So, he did have a human on his payroll.” The new patron muttered to himself. “How quaint.” A bushy silver tail waved behind him.

Elle felt herself blushing. “Can I get you anything? Our Blasterjelly rolls are a customer favorite, along with our Hadesfire Pomegranate Tea.” She reached for a menu to shove in his hands. His gaze seemed focused on her, despite his eyes being closed.

“No,” He held up his hand. “Thank you. You served my friend earlier.” Reaching into his sash, he pulled out a box about the length of his hand, the width of two put together. “He’s too shy to show his gratitude in person, so he sent me in his stead.”

Setting the box on the podium, he turned on his heel and gave a backward wave, the bell chiming as he left.

Frowning, Elle used her pen to open the corner of the box. Inside, she saw a small flat pastry, the side of one showing a beet colored paste. Picking it up, she realized they were covered with powdered sugar. Setting it back down, she closed the box and stuffed it under the podium. How odd she’d been given a human friendly dessert.

“Ready for round two?” Wrecks asked when he came back in, wiping his hands on a towel.

“You know it!” She brushed back her hair, pushing the fox man out of her mind.

The bell chimed, a trio of trolls coming through, looking like they’d gotten off a construction job. A goat headed woman burst through the door behind them, looking frazzled. By the end of the second shift, Elle was nearly laying on the table. Her feet and back ached, her hair was a mess, and the uniform was rumpled.

“And my favorite part of the day…” Wrecks said, flipping the sign to indicate they were closed until the bar opened. He laughed to himself as he went to tally up the totals.

“Count this for me to make sure my math is right.” Taking the cash from the drawer, Wrecks slid it to her. He poured himself a sludge looking coffee, enough steam and heat coming off it to fog up his spectacles. Sweat trickled down his brow.

Elle’s stomach growled, and she found herself blushing. While his lower half made her nervous, his upper half was certainly handsome.

Right. Focus.

“Oh, right.” Wrecks paused. “You can’t…” He struggled to find the words. “Eat anything on our menu, can you?”

“Not without getting violently ill,” Elle admitted, before remembering the podium. “Oh! Right!” Rushing to it, she pulled out the box. “I was going to pack my lunch, but I woke up late!” She’d actually slept in her car because she was terrified of missing her first shift. It wasn’t like there was anyone waiting for her at home. And driving nearly half an hour both ways seemed like a poor use of her time.

Sitting next to the money, she took out one of the cakes and took a bite. Powdered sugar flew around her in a cloud, sending residue all over the uniform.

Keeping the cake in her mouth, she nursed at the paste and counted out the cash, keeping notes. Once she finished, she paused over the calculations and finished eating. Then, she quickly ate a second, barely tasting it as it went down.

“Get some actual food,” Wrecks chided. “I can smell the sweetness from here. Where did you get that if you didn’t pack your lunch?”

“Apparently one of the customers really liked my service and gave me a gift.” Elle shrugged. She looked down at her tips for the day, her breath catching in her throat. How much money did this damned clientele have!? Pulling out her wallet, she quickly signed off on the amount and collected it. Looking down at her uniform, she excused herself to the bathroom.

There was no way she was going to risk getting it dirty and looking unprofessional. If she was going to be making money like this every day, she was going to take this job seriously. Going to the restroom, she did what she could to clean up her uniform. No way was she going to take a dock in her pay to pay for the outfit.

Her face felt hot. Slipping off the apron, she unbuttoned her blouse and splashed water on herself. Looking in the mirror, she saw her cheeks and neck were crimson. The blush spread even further, hidden by her shirt.

Slipping off her blouse, she stared at the sleeveless shirt, which only showed off more of her flushed skin. It was still hot, but more bearable. And she was NOT undressing more. Splashing her face again, she got her hair damp. Slicking back her loose bangs, Elle took in a deep breath.

When she walked out, she saw Wrecks looking at the cakes. Holding one between his thumb and forefinger, he squeezed it. The paste oozed out, dripping onto his fingers. He had his phone to his ear, waiting for someone to answer.

Elle was about to complain he’d ruined part of her gift, but his expression was serious. It sent a twinge of worry through her, followed by another hot flash. This one made her head spin, and she quickly sat down.

“Where did you get these?” His voice was sharp.

“Some guy dropped them off. Um… Foxy.” She started to recall his face, but all it did was cloud her mind with other details she’d overlooked. The way his collar bone peeked out over his robe. How veiny and strong his hands looked. His lips, perfectly glossy, the fangs peeking out with his grin.

“Shepard?” Wrecks asked.

“Hmm?” She smacked her cheeks to try and refocus. “Where was I again?”

Before Wrecks could answer, the person on the other end picked up.

“Yeah.” Wrecks tossed her a damp towel.

Wiping it across her sweaty skin, Elle began to inhale deeply. She felt hot all over, her body starting to shake. Every fiber of her clothing brushed against her, scraping her raw.

“I’m sure it was him,” Wrecks’ voice sounded like it was coming from the other end of a tunnel. “Bet my first born on it. I could smell fuckery on the box.” He looked over to Elle, licking his lips nervously. “She seems fine now, but I don’t want to touch her, could you get a hold of a human doctor?” He paused, nodding along with the speaker, small grunts escaping his mouth.

“Alright.” He hung up, inching closer to Elle.

“That was Ramses. He’s on his way.” He pulled another towel off the counter and soaked it in icy water, before passing it to Elle. “Those cakes were laced with… Something.” He frowned, brows coming together.

“I guess it was Tanpopo’s way of saying hello…”

“Who?” Although Elle was sure she had a good idea who the Drider spoke of. Her insides twitched, needing to be filled. Sweat trickled down her neck and back. Slowly, she laid down in the booth, her legs facing the wall.

“An asshole who runs the bakery down the road.” Wrecks jerked his thumb behind him. “He thought it would be funny to “prank,” He added air quotes. “Some of our staff last year by spiking some cakes and tea with Hellfire Mint.” Three pairs of eyes watered at the memory. “Most of them were fine, but one of our hosts got sent into early labor and had to go to the hospital.”

Fanning herself with a menu, Elle panted. “I wish I’d been warned.”

“Well, there hadn’t been any problems since then,” Wrecks explained. “Horac was a pretty decent deterrent.”

Elle’s mouth was suddenly dry. The heat was becoming unbearable. Her legs refused to budge, each breath making another flash of arousal go through her. “I’ll get you some water.” Wrecks excused himself, quickly coming back with a glass. He passed it to her. “Now, I’m not sure how long this is supposed to last, but Ramses seemed pretty sure he knew what it was.”

Their hands touched. Elle let out a cry, dropping the glass. She shook, nearly convulsing as the need seized her.

Wrecks jumped back, his legs skittering across the floor, unable to gain traction.

Elle was on her feet, grabbing the front of his vest and pulling him to her. Their lips nearly brushed.

“No no no no no no!” He said rapidly, using his front legs and arms to push her away. “It’s flattering, but you are in no condition to be initiating this!”

His skin was scalding hot against hers. She grabbed his clothing so tight she thought it would rip. Pulling him close again, she ignored the impact of his front legs against her skirt.

“I’m terribly sorry, Shepard.” Wrecks said, before she suddenly couldn’t move.

Looking down, she saw she was covered with white bindings. Webbing kept her still, binding her legs together below the knees, and her arms below the elbows. He then pushed her back into the booth.

The bell chimed. Nostrils flaring, Elle thrashed around to try and sit up as the scent of Demon hit her.

“Oh, thank Arachne.” Wrecks backed away. “You made good time.”

“Of course.” Ramses' voice thundered in her ears. Elle’s lips parted slightly as she continued to wriggle around, trying to get free of her bindings. “Leave us. This is easier if there’s only one target.”

Wrecks didn’t have to be told twice. He picked up his scant belongings and quickly scampered out the door.

Ramses stood in front of the booth, his crotch the perfect height for-

And he was gone.

The door locked.

Then, he was back.

“You’ve ingested Asmodeus Fruit,” He explained, pulling out a knife. “Better known as Lustberries.” Looking at the blade, he set it down on the table. “Hold still.” His visible skin was wrapped in bandages. To protect him from the sun?

The order made Elle still, the only movement was her shaking with desire.

“I’m going to cut you loose. But you have to promise me you’re not going to jump on me. Okay?”

Despite the words barely registering, Elle nodded, her body still trembling.

Ramses cut the bindings, his bandaged hands brushing against her. Unlike with Wrecks, it didn’t send a jolt through her. But his scent, the way he panted with exertion… She found herself leaning forward.

“KNIFE!” He yelled, shoving her back. His hand hit her protective charm, and both of them went flying back. She hit the wall hard, and he slid into the front counter in front of the kitchen. Wincing, he slowly got back up, rubbing the back of his head.

“Are you okay?” Her legs were still bound. She started to climb out of the booth.

“Stay!” He commanded, getting up.

Elle’s legs became weak, and she nearly face planted on the floor. Catching herself, Elle held onto the corner of the table. Her charm hung low. 

Ramses rushed over, cutting her legs free.

“Now. Listen.” He shook his finger in her face.

Nodding, Elle leaned forward.

“Go to the loft.”

She rose up, the charm snagging on the corner of the table, the wire wrapping coming undone and the stone falling to the ground, sliding under the booth. 

Her feet slapped against the floor, she nearly tripped over the chained sign as she ran. But she was up the stairs, lungs and chest heaving. Collapsing onto the couch, she felt the heat rolling over again, almost unbearable. Clothes continued to rake against her skin so roughly she thought it would make her bleed. Her hands went to her top, trying to pull it off.

“Okay, Elle. I need you to listen to me.” Ramses said, coming up in the loft. “Normally this stuff wears off after a few hours. But it’s demon fruit, so humans suffer-” He let out a surprised noise as Elle rushed over to him.

When her hands touched his shirt, she realized he wasn’t wrapped under his clothes. Working her fingers through the gaps between his buttons, she touched her fingertips to his bare chest. The heat of his skin made her shudder.

Dropping to her knees, she started to unbuckle his belt.

“Elle!” He said sharply. “Hold on!” Grabbing one of her buns, he held her head in place. Lips parted, she looked up. Panting, she reached for him. Despite denying her advances, his erection was growing quickly.

“Here.” He pulled out a vial, a white liquid inside. “Drink this first. I know it’ll be nasty, but-” As he spoke, the white liquid suddenly yellowed and seemed to become crusty.

She grimaced.

“I know. But the other cure is… Not ideal.” He offered her the vial. Uncorking the top, he pressed the glass to her lips.

Slowly, he tilted it. Once the liquid touched Elle’s lips, foul gelatinous sludge tried to worm its way into her mouth. Pulling back, she sputtered and coughed. Eyes watering, she shook her head.

There was glass breaking, and the liquid spilled all over the floor. The fog was gone, but Elle suddenly felt so hot she started to claw at her clothes.

“You’re going to hurt yourself!” Ramses grabbed her arms, straddling her. His erection dug into her as he pinned her to the floor.

“Elle, listen to me.” His breath was warm against her skin, caressing skin, the wetness from it sliding down her body. 

Closing her eyes, Elle thrust against him. Ramses let out a distressed yelp, before gripping her tighter.

“Fuck me…” She moaned, rubbing against him. A wet spot was left on Ramses pants, although she wasn’t sure if it was from him or her.

It was getting so hot she felt like she was going to pass out, black spots filling her vision. Her clothes felt like they were tearing large chunks of her skin off.

“I’m… So sorry.” Ramses picked her up off the floor, setting her down on the couch.

“For what?” She grabbed his shirt, pulling him down. Their lips almost touched, but he turned his face so she kissed his horn.

“You’re in no state of mind…” He knelt between her legs. “Just let me try something.” Taking her tights, he clumsily pulled them down. Catching the waist of Elle’s panties, Ramses left her completely bare. At the sight, averting his eyes, Ramses cheeks turned crimson.

“Yep…” He struggled to find the words. “That’s certainly Asmodeus fruit.”

Elle touched herself, spreading the soaking lips wide. Grinding against the couch, she felt herself drenching the fabric.

“Okay.” Ramses draped her legs over his shoulders. “I’m going to try something. If it doesn’t work, then we have one option left.”

Elle nodded, but her mind was buzzing. Grabbing Ramses by the hair, she shoved him into her drenched folds. Whatever response he had was muffled, making her shiver.

His tongue began to trace her lower lips, before he slipped it inside. Ellen held his head in place, biting her lips as he continued to lick. Reaching up, he seized her thighs and spread her legs wider. His breath made her tingle.

Closing her eyes, Elle focused on the sensation, the heat now concentrating in her lower half. Ramses’ head bobbed back and forth, the sounds of licking and sucking so loud in the empty loft. She let out several moans, trying to lock her legs around his head.

Keeping her legs open, Ramses continued to lick, before exposing her clit and swirling his tongue around it. Elle moaned, releasing his hair and grinding against his face. “Come for me, Elle.” He groaned into her, his breath so warm. “Come for me, please.”

Letting her head lull back, Elle moaned and grabbed the couch tight enough to feel the fabric start to rip. She felt the orgasm start to build, each lick eliciting another cry from her. Eyes watering, she nearly screamed when Ramses plunged his tongue inside.

But before she could release, it was like slamming into a brick wall. White filled her vision as the heat became a searing pain. A scream escaped her and she shuddered, falling to the side.

“S-stop…” She panted, tears streaming down her face. “It… It hurts.”

Ramses pulled back, his bandages around the lower half of his face now loose. They were soaked with Elle. Small bits of skin were visible. Despite the pain in her lower half, Elle grabbed Ramses by the shirt. She then climbed on top of him, rubbing her aching groin over his crotch.

“Fuck me, please.” She begged, continuing to grind against his hardness.

“Hold on.” Ramses pushed the table to the other couch, his glasses askew. Picking Elle up, he placed her on the couch. Unzipping his pants, he let them fall to the ground. His fully erect cock came forth, beads of precum dripping from the tip. Elle leaned forward, wrapping her lips around it.

Ramses let out a surprised moan, knees nearly giving out as Elle sucked. Once the few drops of precum were swallowed, the heat drastically reduced. Panting, Elle pulled back and let her tongue swirl around the tip.

Then, she felt herself blushing. The reality of the situation began to crash around her. Pulling her head back, she quickly let go of Ramses cock and put her hands at her side.

“Um…” The wetness between her legs was almost unbearable. “I’m… Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Ramses panted, sitting down on the table. “It wasn’t your fault. I understand if you want to leave now.”

Elle stared at his cock, swallowing hard. It was glistening with her saliva. She should leave. This was not only inappropriate, but they were both in a bad spot. But her body was literally hurting with need.

“Ramses.” Her face was probably tomato red. What had she just done? Ramses probably thought… “This wasn’t your fault.”

“I know. But I should have warned you.” He was attempting to put his dick back in his pants, which seemed to be a challenge.

“Erm…” She prodded her forefingers against one another, biting her lower lip. “This is super inappropriate. But is the antidote for this fruit…” Her voice trailed off as she became more flustered. “You know, demon semen?”

Mutely, Ramses nodded. “I didn’t want you to either get too excited or too disgusted.” He looked up at her when she stood over him. “Because I’ve been told it can be rather potent.”

“So, are you sure you gave me enough of a dose?” She lifted her skirt, showing him her wetness. “Because I would, uh, prefer not to go back to how I was.” Her legs shook, the blush filled her entire body.

Ramses’ eyes went wide, and he took off his glasses, setting them down on the table. “I’m not sure. It’s not an exact science. But…” He was cut off when Elle kissed him, straddling his lap.

“Oh.” He kissed her back, looping his hands around her waist.

“Elle,” He said, his voice muffled by her mouth. His pupils dilated slightly, the blood vessels thickening.

“Hm?” She pulled back, her arms around his neck.

“If you want to wait, the lust will wear off.”

Elle thought about it, but shook her head, “I want to do this.” She nibbled at his exposed skin, hands running up and down the nape of his neck.

“Very well.” He stood, keeping her legs wrapped around his waist.

Setting her back onto the couch, Ramses straddled her, pinning her arms above her head against the armrest.

“Are you still hot?”

She nodded.

Taking Elle’s shirt, he slid it off and let it fall to the floor, leaving her in only her skirt.

“Aren’t you?”

“Sunlight.” He gestured to the windows.

“Oh.”

“Consider this… Paid overtime.” Nudging her legs open, Ramses lined himself up, prodding against her slit. Each touch made Elle gasp, grinding against him.

Then, he slid inside. Elle gasped, instantly clenching around him. Ramses gripped the back of the couch, letting out a surprised whimper. Leaning down, he wrapped his arms around her and began to thrust. Once her arms were free, she let her hands explore him.

The touch seemed to encourage him further and he hilted himself.

Elle screamed in pleasure, digging her nails into Ramses’ shirt. Covering her mouth with his, Ramses began to pound into her, each thrust making her see a flash of color.

“God,” He said between thrusts. “You’re so tight.” His breath was warm against her face and neck. Leaning down, he nibbled her neck. “I…” The blush returned to his face.

Elle pulled him back, their lips meeting again. Pushing her tongue into his mouth, she let them dance as he found his rhythm and continued to pump back and forth. Each moan encouraged him, and he went harder.

As the thrusts went deeper, Elle cried out, her back arching. She ran her hands down Ramses shirt and vest, the fabric chafing against her skin. Unlike her own clothing, it pushed her closer to the edge, but she felt herself hitting the wall again.

Her breasts began to bounce, and Ramses groaned, his legs and buttock suddenly clenching.

“Please!” She begged, squeezing him tightly. “Finish inside me!”

“Fuck!” Ramses yelped, before he released, the fluid spilling out of Elle. Panting, he shuddered, placing his hands on either side of her head. Sweat trickled down his face. Clenching, he thrust against her as he emptied everything inside.

The orgasm finally came, and Elle clenched, wrapping her legs around his and pulling Ramses close. Shivering, she panted and closed her eyes.

“I think… That’s enough.” He slipped out of her and sat up on the couch, his softening cock still shimmering with her wetness.

Elle shuddered, then slowly sat up, rescuing her shirt from the floor and holding it up to her chest. She was covered with the strange black residue from his hands.

“I am very sorry about that.” Ramses zipped his pants up and buckled his belt. “I completely understand if you want to quit.”

“Umm…” Elle worried at her lower lip. “You see, I didn’t exactly dislike it and I really need this job.” She couldn’t even look at him without blushing.

“I could tell.” Ramses eyes went wide and he put his glasses back on. “Although I’m not sure how much of that was me or the Fruit.” He rubbed his face. “I’m going to kill that fox the next time I see him.”

Elle swallowed hard, thinking of the cakes. “Um, before you get all worked up, shouldn’t you get ready to open the bar?”

Ramses rubbed his face with a sigh. “I’ve got some time.” He looked her over. “I know you live farther away, but do you want to get cleaned up at my place? Er, not that I’m inviting you back over for...” He let the silence hang in the air. 

Sighing, Elle nodded. “One thing at a time. I need to get this ‘antidote’ off me before it leaves a stink.” The scent of sex was already making her dizzy and flushed.

Helping her up, Ramses helped her dress and helped her back down to the main gathering area, collecting the charm from the floor. Stopping at the umbrella holder, he pulled out a parasol and opened it. When he took a few steps outside, he suddenly staggered.

Wrapping his arm around her, Elle helped him walk.

“It’s not too far," Ramses explained. “Erm, so, about what happened.”

“My lips are sealed,” Elle mimed locking her lips and throwing away a key. “As long as you don’t tell the others about me trying to blow you. And everything else.”

Ramses stifled a noise and looked away. “It’s fine. Just erm… Expect a bonus on your first check.”

“A bonus?” Now she was starting to feel like it was some sort of hush money.

“I take… Very good care of my employees.” Ramses frowned. “It’s hard to keep them on.” Swallowing hard, he sighed. “Elle, what I did back there, I promise I’m not normally like that. I know demons have a reputation for being sinners, but I don’t want you to feel I took advantage.”

“Too bad, I had a lot of fun.” Elle blushed at her words. “Sorry, was that too much?”

Ramses bit at his lip. “No, but I am your boss. I don’t want rumors to spread.”

“I understand.” She felt the rest of the heat finally leave her body, leaving her head clear. “But don’t… ever be afraid to ask. I um, headed after this job for a reason. Not just for the pay.”

Ramses hid his face and nodded.

If every day was going to be like this, then this new job was going to be interesting. She’d have to apologize to Wrecks tomorrow.

At least there was hazard pay.

(You can read part 02 here!)

[buckys-little-belle]

can u do the marauders with a little who has a stuffy and it got ripped? my bunny got ripped a few days ago and im really sad about it!

Broken Bunny

Marauders (Sirius, Remus, James) x Little!Reader (They/Them Pronouns Used)

Warnings - Talks about an injured stuffed animal, use of needle and thread to sew, use of 'Daddy' 'Papa' and 'Bubby', lots of tears, lots of fluff, the boys being sweet caretakers to both their bunny and their bunny's bunny

Notes - This is short ... No one's surprised lol.

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW.

. ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ .

"Daddy." Y/n whispered to Sirius, trying to to disrupt Remus and James' study session across the room.

"Yes, Bunny." Sirius smiled, running a hand over Y/n's head, noticing the tears falling down their cheeks. "What's wrong, My love?" He began to look them over for any injuries, though he doubted that was the case as Y/n had been napping for the past hour.

"I woke up an' bunny is ripped." They sobbed quietly. Their back was facing the two other boys, but they noticed the shake of their shoulders and the worried look plastered on Sirius' face. "I don' know what t' do." They pouted, holding their bunny with gentle hands, careful to not touch the loose stitches on it's leg.

"It's a good thing Papa knows how to sew, huh?" Sirius answered, a soft smile sent Y/n's way, hoping it would help calm them down.

Y/n turned to see both Remus and James already clearing the desk, a small sewing kit placed on the table, and a blanket folded in the center. "I din' mean to bother you." Y/n cried harder, watching as the boys got things all set up.

"You didn't bother us, Bunny." James wrapped Y/n up in a hug, his hands rubbing soothing circles on their back. "What are Bubbies for if not emergency Bunny surgery?" He smiled, taking the bunny from Y/n's hand and placing it on the blanket covered table. "I'll be assisting our doctor, Mr Papa today." He said in a silly voice, making Y/n giggle through their tears.

"Please take a seat, Miss Bunny." Remus said, pulling out the desk chair for them.

The surgery was quick and easy, Remus leaned over Y/n as he carefully stitched the leg's seam back together. The cream coloured thread blending in with the Bunny's fur perfectly. With a finishing knot and a kiss to the healed boo boo, Bunny was handed back.

"Thank you Papa." Y/n smiled, tears now dried, a soft smile plastered on their face as they snuggled their stuffed animal.

"Let's remember to finish our manners." Remus said, giving Y/n a soft but firm look.

"Thank you Daddy, and thank you Bubby." They raced to give both boys a big hug, finally settling into Remus' side as he sat on his bed.

"I think it's time for bed, hm?" Sirius smiled, turning off some lights and getting dressed for bed.

"I'm not sleepy." Y/n yawned, the energy they used up worrying over their bunny clearly coming to bite them in the back. "Maybe jus' a little." They smiled, their cheeks heating up in embarrassment.