#the shapeshifter talks too much (again)

[misstycloud]

Shapeshifter x fem.reader

“Please stop.” You whimpered, shaking like a leaf.

The creature crouched down to your level and whispered in a soothing voice- it didn’t have the desired effect, though. “Why? Don’t be scared, I would never hurt you. There’s no need to be so frightened.”

“….just leave me alone..”

“No I can’t do that. I love you (Y/n). You’re everything to me. You don’t understand the depth of how much I need you.” He- it- pleaded.

You scoffed despite the inner turmoil. “Well, feelings not mutual.”

He sighed and shook his head slowly. “Why can’t you understand? I just love you so much.” He caressed your hands while staring straight into your eyes. It felt like he was unveiling your soul, like you couldn’t hide from that look, no matter what. “I,” he started, “can be whoever you want me to be. I can be whatever you wish.”

Suddenly, he started changing. It was like something was alive underneath his skin, that wanted to move and reshape the shell it was inside. Slowly, but surely, its features morphed into someone else.

This new shape was clearly tall, even when he was still couching. He looked a little rugged, wi the jet black hair and also at as equally dark grey eyes. He was muscular, too.

“Would this be better?” He asked in a deep voice, tilting his head in wonder. “Would you like someone like this- someone who can protect and care for you? Someone who wouldn’t hesitate to get into a bar fight to defend your honour.”

You looked away and shut your eyes.

“I see.” He said. “So this is not your type, then?”

Once more, you heard the familiar sound of flesh and bones. And against you better judgement, you glance his way again.

This time, he was not as muscular. In fact he was quite thin, but still tall. Messy brown hair shot in all directions, coverering his forehead, it almost shielded his face entirely from view.

“Or is this better?” He gave you a dorky smile. “A nerd? Someone who can relate to your interests and become just as engrossed in them as you. Wouldn’t that be nice? We could talk for hours about the things we like.”

You shook your head hastily. Rejecting his suggestion.

“Or maybe not.” He sighed.

The sound of flesh moving followed and you looked away, not wishing to see the peak of the gruesome transformation, before facing him again.

This new body was considerably shorter than the previous two. It was one of a mousy young man, appearing to be in the beginnings of adulthood.

“If you like being the one in control, I wouldn’t mind. I think this form would fit for that, you see. I’d be nice to be dominated by you. You wouldn’t have to hold back from anything, you could be completely in charge if that’s what you desire?”

You remained silent.

“I take that as a ‘no’, then.” He stopped for a few seconds, thinking, then the smile retuned. “Wait, I can’t believe I didn’t think this.”

Suddenly the young man disappeared and a woman took his place. She was gorgeous by all means. Her long blonde hair flowed in waves down her back. Her curvaceous form would have any person staring.

“I apologise. I should have asked if you would prefer a woman instead, my mistake. Now, finally, is this desireble?”

“I told you to stop. I don’t want any of this- I don’t want you. I don’t want to be near you. Leave me alone, please.” You cried in desperation. Hoping it would be able to push away the creature for good. But you knew it was a foolish dream for it to become bored with you.

The woman hushed you and took you into her arms. “Shhh, shhh, it will all be fine. No need to worry about anything. You’ll be good, I promise. I will take care of you.” She tried comforting you by patting your back like a mother consoling her crying child. “And don’t worry. It doesnt matter how long it’ll take, but I will find the right form eventually. You will just love it~.”

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[justporo]

okay but can we talk about this: when halsin tells tav he wants her (and Astarion) but you're in a relationship with Astarion so when you go talk to him about it he asks "But answer me one thing, this isn't because haven't.... you know... in a while" because oh boy my heart, just the thought of what must be going through his mind

See, this is also what I was thinking about and I would have loved there to be an option to just listen to Halsin's proposition (because he's a national treasure and just so damn pure) but then be like "listen, you honour me, so thank you, but no thank you. I'm with Astarion and I fear there's no more space in my heart." And then go to Astarion and talk about it with him and reassure him that there is only him for you. And because I would have liked that, I'm gonna write it out in a drabble: Astarion / GN!Tav (You)

"First in my heart!"

"You wouldn't believe the talk I just had with Halsin..." You say as you saunter over to Astarion, awkwardly crossing your arms over your chest. What Halsin had just proposed had majorly thrown you off your game - who would have thought the archdruid had it in himself to be so... forthcoming?

Astarion looks up from his book with raised eyebrows but catches your meaning in a heartbeat. He throws his head back and starts laughing. "No way, I was waiting for that to happen actually", he says and puts the book down, then crosses his arms over his chest as well, mimicking you.

Your brows furrow: "How did you..." Astarion lowers his head a little and stares at you. "You must've been blind to not notice the stares he's thrown you since he joined our jolly party. The man's basically a dog barking and salivating at the dinner table that is you - waiting to devour whatever he gets." You blush hard, too stuned to speak and your mouth just falls open - no way this had been actually a thing others had noticed before tonight. But also - can you just hear the slightest strain in Astarion's voice?

"And on top of that", Astarion scoffs "the guy can't stay quiet about 'enjoying the freedom of nature's gifts'. I bet he'd outlaw clothing if he could." The impression Astarion makes of Halsin is incredibly on point, he laughs, seemingly waving the druid's adavnces off but... you see that the laugh doesn't reach the vampire's eyes fully.

Still you are dumbfounded by the developments of the evening, your mouth basically only closing and opening as if you'd been turned into a fish.

"Astarion, I wouldn't...", you finally get out but get immediately interrupted again by the spawn who starts to ramble on about how he doesn't mind, how he'd actually be interested to know how it goes down - and also if Halsin would shapeshift in the bedroom...

And what had been your suspicion from the moment you had started to tell Astarion was now clear for you: no matter how much Astarion would actually be open for you to share the bed with someone else even though the two of you are in a commited relationship - it wouldn't actually be fine for him. Maybe not exactly out of jealousy, but because he is actually insecure albeit he'd never openly admit it. Because he actually does care very much about his relationship to you and is so deeply scared to do anything that will break the spell. So scared actually, he'd rather let you share the bed with someone else despite not being fine with it.

And that makes your heart break because no one should feel forced to do that, right? But luckily for the vampire, you're decision had already been made. More so, there hadn't been a decision to begin with.

"But let me ask one thing", Astarion finally says, his eyes wide now, face open and vulnerable "it's not because... you know... we haven't... in a while?" His eyes almost seem to widen more while desperately waiting for your answer. Even though he doesn't move you can see the fear and nervousness in his posture that is just too tense for his usual nonchalant manner.

Your heart breaks into a thousand pieces: "Oh, Astarion, I'm not... asking for your permission to get nasty with Halsin."

The vampire's face drops completely, his arms fall down limply at his side. You see how shock and hurt start clouding his face. He helplessly opens his mouth: "Oh..." His gaze lowers from yours, flitting around everywhere but your face

Your eyes widen - that is not at all what you meant. "No, no, no, Astarion" - you rush to him and grab him by the shoulders. "No, you didn't catch my meaning. What I'm saying is, I'm not asking permission because there is nothing to ask for. I would never consider being with someone else." His gaze snaps back to yours - his eyes not yet free of worry and hurt.

You lick your lips, desperatly trying to show him what you feel for him. To show him that the reason you hadn't noticed Halsin's interest in you was because you only had eyes for him. And to make sure he knows there will be no one else: "Astarion, you are first in my heart. No, more even, you are the only one in my heart like this - there's no space to share." And because you feel that your feelings might completely overwhelm you, you wrap your arms around the vampire, holding him tightly.

"Oh", Astarion makes again - but this time in a much different tone. He hugs you back, burying his face in your hair.

After a while you lean back and look into his eyes before pressing a kiss to his lips that makes him sigh dreamily. "I'm sorry I doubted you", he whispers, his face still vulnerable. "I'm sorry I made you doubt me", you reply and give him a warm smile.

"Also", you say and grin at him "I think I already had a date with a bottle of wine, a book and a vampire for tonight." Astarion grins back at you and unwraps one of his arms to motion towards the pillows in front of his tent: "Let's not make the bottle wait any longer then."

[giuseppe-yuki]

pr videos

logan sargeant x hawk shapeshifter!reader

w.c.: 1.2k

warnings: a few curse words, one suggestive innuendo

part of my shapeshifting!reader series

summary: you join logan while he is doing his pr videos for williams

picture credits from pinterest :)

from your perch on the VCARB building, you could see your boyfriend on the roof of the williams building, filming a pr video. with your acute vision that allowed you to see over half a mile away, you could see the strands of his blonde hair waving in the wind, the way the sleeves of his williams team kit stretched over his arm muscles, the shine of his blue-green eyes in the sun, and even the light stubble on his chin. oh, and alex was there too, but why would you look at him when your perfect boyfriend was standing right there? 

you technically weren’t supposed to be sitting on a pipe next to a big ass poster of daniel riccardo’s face on the VCARB roof, but you were getting a little hungry. less than an hour ago, logan had left you in the hotel room, explaining that him and alex were filming pr videos all day and didn’t want you to be waiting in the hot sun. it didn’t hurt spying a little bit on them. besides, you were blending in, because in austin, texas there was always a shit ton of hawks for some reason. 

shaking yourself out of your logan-induced trance, you peer over at alex and see him holding a- piece of tomato? in logan’s hands are some tongs and a metal spatula, making you realize he is currently flipping burgers in front of a smoking grill. great, you think, williams has your boyfriend playing the typical american again. before you can continue your line of thought, your stomach grumbles, so you immediately spread your wings and jump off the building. there’s no harm in capitalizing off of logan’s americanness, you suppose.

gliding smoothly towards the williams roof, you hear logan talking fighting for his life trying to defend himself.

“mate, look at my burger compared to yours! its way better. look at the cheese, the lettuce, the tomato, the juicy meat! your patty is literally burnt and you don’t even have lettuce in your burger! that’s a literal crime.”

“you don’t even have lettuce in your burger” alex mocks. “whatever logan, you’re so american!” 

you can tell the banter between them is playful, both of them shooting pointed remarks at each other as the timer countes down. they're filming an alex vs logan burger challenge, you speculate. 

when you see your chance, you fly at full speed towards the pair, and snatch logan’s burger right off of his plate. clutching the burger in your claws, you circle back and plant yourself on an expensive-looking linen sofa. you give the burger a few experimental pecks. perfectly cooked, and honestly, really good. 

the camerawoman, several members of the williams crew, and both alex and logan’s pr managers all stare at you from behind the camera in surprise, mouths open. alex lets out a sound of pure shock, but his eyes show a little bit of recognition. perhaps logan has mentioned you to alex before? logan, however, looks at you with a small smile and a singular eyebrow raised. 

“mate,” alex starts, “is that your g-” 

logan immediately cuts him off. 

“wow, that was so weird! my burger looked so much better than yours, a real-life american hawk swooped in just to try it.” 

as if coming to her senses, the camerawoman steps in to redirect the focus of the video. “we are totally keeping that in. that was so fucking cool.” she exclaims. she turns around to her camera, and fiddles with it for a little bit before turning back towards you, logan and alex. “by the way, note to the video editor, logan totally won that one. the hawk really sealed the deal.”

“baby there is no way you just did that,” logan says, closing the hotel room door. 

you were lying in a cocoon of sheets with on the giant bed, having flew back to your balcony suite a couple hours ago. 

he takes off his shoes before continuing, “after you flew away, i had to spend over half an hour explaining to the williams crew members that no, i did not somehow summon you using my americanness and burger cooking powers, then fifteen minutes conversing with alex about planning a hangout with him and his girlfriend- who by the way is a cockatiel shapeshifter- and then fourty-five minutes leaving the paddock because i was stopped every two seconds by yet another person who wanted to ask if a hawk did actually steal my burger.” 

you can’t help but to start laughing. “awe i’m sorry logan, i was just a little hungry and i wanted to go see you!” you say in between giggles.

logan leaps onto the bed on top of you and wraps you into a warm hug. “fine, i forgive you. only because i love you,” he says earnestly. he pauses before continuing, “and also because you gave me a great truth to tell for two truths and a lie,” prompting you to burst into laughter again. he puts a well-placed kiss on your cheek. “so what do you want to do next?”

you look into his eyes, a few inches away from yours, and whispers into his ear. “i’m feeling… a little hungry.” 

logan peels himself off of you, and walks towards the hotel room phone.

“i know exactly who to call.” 

later, you find yourself sat in front of the most mouthwatering, scrumdiddlyumptious layout of texas barbeque, coleslaw, and cornbread. god, you loved logan so much. 

the next day, you find yourself in a similar position as the day before. this time, you are perched on a tree on the edge of a beautiful lake. you watch in amusement as logan and alex struggle to put bait on the hook of their fishing rods. logan seemed to have a little bit more luck spearing the worm onto the end of his fishing rod. 

“this is so rigged.” you hear alex complain to the gopro set up in front of him. “logan clearly got a bigger worm than me so its easier to put on and plus, he probably has ages of experience from fishing when he was younger!” 

it was yet another pr video day, but this time williams had them out in the middle of a lake- fishing for content. ‘don’t come back until you caught a fish,’ you had heard the team member jokingly say to the williams drivers as they launched off the dock. currently, it seemed as if alex and your boyfriend were taking his words seriously.

thirty minutes later, both of them were still stuffed in bright red lifejackets sitting in the middle of the lake. it seemed the cameramen that were filming them from a separate boat were having more luck them them, as they had a few minnows swimming in a bucket compared to logan and alex’s zero. 

you swoop down from your tree branch and use your ability to see uncannily well to spot a big bass swimming below you. lighting quick, you snatch it up in your claws and fly toward the williams boat. 

this time, the cameramen see you before logan, and all point their cameras excitedly at you, no doubt getting some high quality content for their upcoming video. 

you drop the still-wriggling bass onto logan’s lap, and perch proudly at the tip of the boat. 

“why thank you birdy,” logan says to you, giving you a big smile. he turns to alex, fighting the urge not to laugh. “i guess i win this challenge yet again.” 

alex wears a smug smile back though. “i just had my birdy go catch me a fish too.” he says, pointing his nose in the air. as if right on cue, a gray and yellow cockatiel whips past you, and drops a mosquito fish in alex’s lap.

logan takes one look and bursts into laughter.

taglist: @ilivbullyingjeongin@ale-522@formula1-motogpfan@aceyalonso@my0hmary @mbappebby

[solxamber]

I really love your writing. If it is possible could you write about an ignihyde reader that has a crush on Rook, and leaves him flowers, poetry, and stuffed animals. As Rook is an excellent hunter, it shouldn’t take him long to find out who the reader is, but there’s a catch. The readers UM is shape shifting. They can change everything about their appearance. Thus, puzzling Rook to no end. How long till he figure it out, and what does he do when he finally catches the reader?

Rook x Shape-shifter! reader

Ahh it's my first request!! I hope you like this!

Your love life has always been like an unfinished video game: full of potential but perpetually stuck on “pause” because talking to people is hard and you have a knack for turning invisible (literally) whenever you get nervous. But lately, you’ve found yourself in a completely different sort of situation—one that involves Rook Hunt, the most poetic hunter of Night Raven College and the object of your not-so-secret, shape-shifty affections.

And when you say not-so-secret, it means you’ve been leaving a trail of gifts that practically scream, “NOTICE ME, YOU HANDSOME WEIRDO.”

It all started innocently enough. A flower here, a cute stuffed animal there, and, of course, the occasional badly rhymed poem you stayed up way too late crafting. You know, typical middle-of-the-night crush behavior. The thing is, you didn’t sign your name. Nope. You decided to go full stealth mode, and using your Unique Magic to shapeshift every time you left a gift. One day you’re a tall, mysterious student from Pomefiore; the next, a shy sophomore from Savanaclaw. It’s the perfect plan!

Except… this is Rook Hunt we’re talking about. He’s a hunter, a tracker. He could probably find a needle in a haystack with his eyes closed, blindfolded, and reciting French poetry. So it didn’t take long before Rook realized someone was very much into him—and that someone was playing hard to get (catch?).

But here’s the twist. You’ve made yourself the ultimate puzzle. Every time Rook thinks he’s close to figuring you out, you shapeshift into a completely new person. One day he follows the scent of roses, thinking it will lead him to his admirer, only to find an Ignihyde student carrying around a bouquet of tulips. The next, he tracks down a trail of tiny stuffed animals, only to spot you as an unsuspecting Idia lookalike casually sipping tea in the courtyard. (You panicked, okay?)

“Ah, mon amour, you are like the wind—impossible to catch, yet always present,” Rook muses one day as he stands in the middle of the school courtyard, staring wistfully at a lone stuffed squirrel you’d left behind. Meanwhile, you’re hiding behind a hedge, shapeshifted into a first-year Octavinelle student, silently praying he doesn’t sniff you out like some kind of love detective.

But you can’t help yourself. Every time he gets close, your heart pounds, your magic flares up, and—poof!—you’re someone else again. It’s been weeks of this now, and Rook is officially stumped. He knows it’s you, but at the same time, he doesn’t know it’s you. It’s both thrilling and terrifying.

One day, you think you’ve outdone yourself. You leave Rook a stuffed owl—because, you know, symbolism—and a particularly sappy poem about how his eyes are like “two radiant moons lighting the darkness of your soul.” (Cringe-worthy, but heartfelt.) You shapeshift into an Ignihyde student again and casually start making your exit, congratulating yourself on a job well done.

But then, as you’re about to sneak back to your dorm, you hear it: “Ah, I see you at last, my elusive muse.”

Oh no. OH NO.

You freeze, half-transformed between yourself and the random character you picked that morning. Slowly, you turn around, and there he is. Rook. Smiling. Not just any smile, but that knowing smile, the one that says, “I’ve been onto you this whole time.”

You’re caught. And not in the cool, romantic way. More like the “rabbit caught in a snare” kind of way.

“I must say, you’ve been quite the challenge, mon cher,” Rook says, walking toward you with the confidence of someone who’s won every game he’s ever played. “But even the most skilled of hunters can’t resist a mystery. And what a mystery you’ve been!”

You try to play it cool, but your brain is currently doing the equivalent of the Blue Screen of Death. Do you transform again? Disappear? Fake your own death?

Nope. You’re paralyzed.

Rook stops in front of you, tilting his head slightly as if sizing you up. “I’ll admit, it took me longer than expected. Every time I thought I was close, you slipped away… like a wisp of smoke.” He steps closer, and you feel your heart about to explode. “But now that I’ve found you, I must ask—why all the hiding, my chérie?”

He knows. He knows.

With a nervous laugh, you finally drop the act—literally. Your transformation fades, leaving you standing there, fully you, cheeks burning. “Uh… surprise?” you manage weakly.

Rook’s eyes light up like a kid on Christmas morning. “Ah! Magnifique! I knew it! My instincts were correct, but what a splendid revelation!” He takes your hand dramatically, and you swear he’s about to launch into a sonnet. “All this time, it was you—you—my mysterious admirer! The one who leaves me such lovely tokens of affection! And yet, you kept me in the dark, playing this delightful game of cat and mouse…”

You’re still trying to process the fact that Rook actually figured it out, while he’s over here going full monologue.

“I must say,” Rook continues, still holding your hand, “your talents are impressive. To evade me for so long—c’est incroyable! But why, mon cher? Why not reveal yourself sooner?”

“Well, uh…” You scratch the back of your neck, completely flustered. “I thought you’d think it was weird?”

“Weird?” Rook blinks at you, clearly baffled. “Why would I think that? You have done nothing but shower me with affection in the most creative ways! Why, I am honored by your attentions!” His grin widens. “And now that I’ve found you, I can return the favor, oui?”

“Return the—wait, what?” You blink at him, your brain short-circuiting again.

Rook leans in closer, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Did you think the hunter would not also become the prey? My dear, you’ve caught my attention as well… and I must say, I’m quite taken with you.”

Your heart skips approximately fifty beats. “You… what?”

“Ah,” Rook sighs dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. “You truly are a marvel. But now that I’ve caught you, I won’t let you slip away so easily.”

You’re still standing there, trying to process the fact that Rook Hunt, Rook Hunt, the walking poetry machine, is flirting with you. And not just in a casual way.

Wait why is holding his bow like that? Is he trying to serenade you with just his bow as his accompaniment?

“So,” Rook says, his smile widening, “shall we continue this game of ours? Or perhaps… a new adventure, together?”

You stare at him, your face about to combust from sheer embarrassment and disbelief. “Uh… sure?”

And just like that, Rook laughs, a joyous, carefree sound, and pulls you into a hug. “Magnifique! The hunt is over, but the journey has just begun, my chérie.”

As for you? You’re pretty sure this whole situation is a fever dream.

But hey, at least you finally got your guy. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll survive his endless poetic declarations.

Maybe.

Masterlist

[pigfacedbitch]

Phobia

idea : your phobia relates to your boyfriend's gifted godly abilities.

word count : 0.8k

type : headcanons

pairing/s involved : Jason Grace / Percy Jackson / Leo Valdez / Frank Zhang / Nico Di Angelo x Reader

warning/s : phobia speaks for itself. personally, it's thalassophobia for me. 😓

here is my masterlist!

Jason Grace | Acrophobia (Fear of Heights)

Due to having the same fear as his sister, Jason is completely aware of the dos and dont's when you're an acrophobic.

If you two are forced in situations where you need to be in high places, he always attempts to distract you with anything he can think of.

He prefers embarrassing stories over jokes. His delivery is too deadass and his 'i'm-trying-hard-here-it's-not-funny' look makes you laugh before the punchline.

Knowing that it can be associated with the fear of falling, Jason will reassure you every time that he's going to catch you.

If you did fall, during some battle for example, he will asks you to close your eyes and hold you tighter before slowly bringing you down.

He really lives up to that Superman nickname so much, the others started calling you Lois Lane.

Percy Jackson | Thalassophobia (Fear of Deep Bodies of Water)

Percy would be bummed out. Being the son of Poseidon, he loves to be in the water.

Everything about him— from his favorite hobbies to his happiest of memories, revolves around it and he wants to share that with you.

He plans on taking you on trips underwater; introduce you to the majestic marine creatures nobody else has seen before, unravel mysteries the sea has to offer, and form a big bubble where you can do whatever you want without being interrupted (ehem👀).

But how can he make all of it possible when your fear is literally all of those?

Percy would want to help you get over it. He wouldn't force you but he will at least try convince you.

If you refuse, he will respect that.

But if you accept his help, he'll try to take it one step at a time. Probably by starting to show you how the sea, no matter terrifying it is, is also beautiful place.

Leo Valdez | Pyrophobia (Fear of Fire)

Initially, Leo will laugh. I mean, who wouldn't?

You're a pyrophobic yet you're dating someone who is actually made out of fire?

After he notices that you're not joking, he will begin to be terrified for you. Expect that Leo will be extra careful when you are with him, especially when he is working on something.

His contraptions deemed too dangerous like explosives, will be kept somewhere far away.

As much as he thinks your presence will make Bunker 9 a lovelier workspace, he will understand if you don't want to go there. The essense of it is from the god of fire himself— I mean you need a blast of fire to enter.

He also will refrain himself from using his fire abilities in a fight, making do with his inventions instead.

While pyrophobia doesn't have specific causes, it may be possible that you had some traumatic experience relating to fire. Leo doesn't want to hurt you or make you feel worse.

Frank Zhang | Zoophobia (Fear of Animals)

Frank is confused. He doesn't know that the fear of animals is a thing and would wonder why you agreed on dating him in the first place.

He will ask you tons of questions; what caused your phobia? Are you afraid of all animals, a few, or just one? What can I do? After your conversation, he's going to search more information.

If you're afraid of one animal only, Frank will forget it ever existed. He will never talk of that animal again even when you're not around.

The others will joke about it. Example, if you're scared of snakes—

"What is a snake, Frank?"

"What's that, Leo? I have no idea, so let's never speak of it again."

In the case that you're afraid of all animals (this is a rare condition), he will not use his abilities and will train harder in combat.

When he really doesn't have a choice but to shapeshift in a fight, you two will separate with your friends' assurance that they got your back.

Frank is a nice guy but if someone made an offensive comment about your phobia or hardcore pranks involving that animal? Expect the wrath and rage of Mars.

Nico Di Angelo | Phasmophobia (Fear of Ghosts)

I'm sorry but Nico will slightly judge you. Really, a ghost? What are you, five?

Like Frank, he will ask you what caused your phobia.

He will feel terrible and comfort you if you have the same experience as Reina and Jason, who's loved ones turned into a mania. If it's because of horror movies, he will awkwardly pet your head.

You may think the subject is dropped but Nico will make sure that no ghost will ever come near you.

Having the infamous title 'Ghost King', he will not hesitate to torment and threaten the spirits who try to approach, scare, or talk to you.

He will take you on dates to McDonalds but he will not bring you to any 'ghost business'.

If you want to get rid of your phobia, Nico will summon ghosts who can entertain you; like singers, dancers, those that can do tricks, and stand up comedians.

He will also show you how easily he can bend any ghost to his will, proving to you that there's nothing to be afraid of.

[surftrips]

PINK SLIPS | CLARISSE LA RUE

pairing: clarisse la rue x female!reader

summary: clarisse keeps her distance following the capture the flag incident.

word count: 1.1k

author's note: happy valentine's day week! here is my gift to you all, part two to shapeshift 💘💘

i. you blew me a kiss in the class that she skips 

Stacy used to never show up for archery practices, but recently, she had taken to accompanying you just to sit nearby and watch.

After the Capture the Flag incident, it seemed as though Stacy was around even more than usual. You liked her, you really did, she was your girlfriend, after all… but you also liked your alone time and space.

Speaking of space, Clarisse was giving you a lot of that lately. It’s not like the two of you were ever that close, but you thought that after she saved you, she would at least acknowledge you here and there.

Instead, Clarisse had been skipping practices and camp activities, so much so that a small pile of pink slips had begun to accumulate on her bedside table. (You heard this from a friend of yours who happened to also be in Ares cabin). 

After hitting the target once again, you looked over to see Stacy blowing you a kiss. You sighed, feeling sorrowful all of a sudden. You must have looked cold, because before you knew it, your girlfriend was running up to you and draping her sweater over your arms. “Here, sweet girl,” she smiled.

You smiled back, admiring the flawless makeup on her face and the way her hair fell perfectly down her back. Stacy’s eyeliner was always colored in the lines, sharp. 

ii. you write me love letters, while she gets pink slips 

For a child of Aphrodite, it was like every day was Valentine’s Day. So when you found a love letter addressed to you on your bed in the middle of July, you didn’t blink twice. Your heart, however, did skip a beat when you read “From your secret admirer…” 

Without hesitation, you ripped the envelope open and your eyes immediately darted to the signature at the bottom. “Xoxo, Stacy.” 

Your body relaxed and the rational part of your brain took over. What were you thinking? Of course, this letter was from your girlfriend, who you liked very much. You had very strong feelings for her. She was wonderful, and perfect, and nothing like–

You wouldn’t even let yourself finish the rest of your thought. That would be entirely unfair to Stacy, who had done nothing but smother you with love and affection since the two of you started going out. 

Okay, maybe smother wasn’t the best word for it. It wasn’t Stacy’s fault that her love language just happened to be grandeur and overbearing displays of affections, right? You should be grateful that at least you had someone. 

In theory, your relationship was all perfect. 

iii. but perfect’s never been my type 

“I don’t see what the big deal is, she’s just a friend!” you exclaimed, trying to explain to your girlfriend that you were going to hang out with another camper. 

“From the Ares cabin!” Stacy rebutted. 

“What does that have to do with anything?” 

“She’s also in that cabin.” You paused, it would appear that you weren’t the only one that had been thinking about Clarisse. 

“Okay, that’s not fair. She saved me one time during Capture the Flag, it didn’t mean anything,” you shook your head, as if to force the memory of Clarisse’s eyes scanning your body out of your mind. 

“Oh, sure. And her suddenly disappearing around camp means nothing too?”

“Are you keeping tabs on her now?” 

“She’s not good for you, Y/N. She would never be as good to you as I am.” Stacy inched closer with every word that came out of her mouth. 

“Are you though? Good to me?” Every thought of Clarisse gave you the confidence to speak your mind. 

Stacy looked hurt, like she had taken a punch to the gut. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re around, like all the time. I’m not saying I don’t like being with you, because I do, but now I can’t even hang out with my friends without you there? I need my space.”

If Stacy knew that there was something more you weren’t letting on, she didn’t show it.

“You want space? Okay, we’re done.” The next second, she was out of your cabin and running toward the forest. 

iv. i’m a sucker for the wicked  

Since the breakup, you had taken to embracing your newly reinstated alone time. Today was unusually warm, so you decided to soak in the sun by the water. After setting up your picnic blanket, now for one, you laid down and opened a book you had been meaning to start for a while. 

You didn’t get very far before a shadow cast itself over the pages, causing you to get up. “Hey, what are you—?” 

“Relax, pretty girl. It’s just me.” Clarisse smiled at you. You immediately sat back down. The two of you settled into quiet. 

You took the opportunity to admire her features. It had only been a few weeks since you were last face-to-face, but something about her had changed. Perhaps it was the way she carried herself, or no– the way her eyes….

“How have you been?” She broke the silence. 

“Uh… good. And you?” 

“Not bad, I heard about the breakup.”

“Oh, thanks.” 

“I didn’t say sorry.” Clarisse grinned, but you could tell she meant it. “I never liked her very much.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell.” 

Now, the two of you were laughing, together for once. You felt light, free, for the first time in months. The slight breeze made Clarisse's curls over her shoulders.

“What are you doing here?” you asked. 

“You want an honest answer?” 

You nodded. You were tired of staring at your ceiling at night and wondering if there was ever anything between the two of you.

“After that Capture the Flag game, I realized that my feelings for you weren’t going away. But I also thought that Stacy wasn’t going away either, so I had to give you your distance. It was more for me, than anyone, I’m sorry if that was selfish.” 

“Clarisse…”

“You don’t have to say you like me back or anything, I know I’m not your type. But I don’t think I can move on without letting you know first–” 

“Clarisse,” you interrupted her. “Stop.” 

She stared at you with her brown eyes and smudged mascara. You don’t think you’ve ever felt like this about Stacy, about anyone. Looking over to your side, you pluck a daisy out of the ground and carefully place it behind Clarisse’s hair. 

“I like you too, tough girl.” 

You make a mental reminder to make fun of her for blushing later, but right now, she looks perfect. You take advantage of her flustering and lean in to connect your lips with hers. 

Clarisse is fairly sure she’s made an eternal enemy out of Aphrodite now, but she couldn’t care less. She just leans in to deepen the kiss, biting at your bottom lip gently.

—

TAGLIST // @caroldrimor @ryujinraven @emlovesya @bookworm-center @vexiii-theog @alicentswhore @starssfall @m0th-creature @littlemiss-fanficlover @exactlycoralfox @abbofff @marve1stranger @b0ok-lover @phi4mars @lanad3lr3ysblog @emonopolyman @paodaca @daydreaming-in-olympus @solex-prince @quackitysdrugdealer @vfrhbcddt @frankie3974 @chvreu

[thatbugkidd]

GOAT!CYN REF AND NOTES LETS GO

This bitch gets 3 parts bc I hate myself (her design changes 3 times throughout the story- technically more)

• no horns

• unfortunately the Cyn we get to explore the least of-

• made a deal with Absolute Salvation in order to avoid death. Unaware of consequences and lives in the mansion somewhat peacefully for several months

• starts seeing "hallucinations" and hearing voices of the demon, reminding her of the deal they made, that she has a debt to pay.

• too scared to tell anyone about it. Fearing she wouldn't be believed or would be discarded again

• slowly starts succumbing to the influence, talking to herself, not sleeping, muscle spasms, more difficulty with motor skills than usual

• at this point, with essentially no control over herself, she has begun roping the others (Nate, Jane, and Valerie) under the same influence with a series of ritualistic offerings and seances without their knowings.

• eventually fully completes the ritual right before the Gala, summoning the actual entity to become its vessel. Things only go downhill from here for a bit-

• Possessed by Absolute Salvation

• BIG OL HORNSSS

• Struggles to walk due to heels not being made for her anatomy (and already struggling motor skills) uses tentacles to help brace and balance herself

• Jagged and rough teeth

• Can shapeshift into someone if they consume the blood or flesh of them. Applies to all living organisms

• can duplicate body parts (including borrowed parts) and contort body in very unnatural and painful ways

• can shadow-shift (basically melting into the shadows, and can reappear in any surrounding shadow. The salvation equivalent of cynessa straight up teleporting in the show)

• explores a lot more of the manipulative and abusive tendencies of the AS we never got to see in the show. Still goofy but we see much more evil from her

• It actually retains much of Cyn's personality as it studied and adopted her behavior while it was dormant in the mansion

• the real Cyn is trapped in her own mindscape, enduring years of torture and abuse from the AS while she has no control over her body. She can see what is happening through her eyes, but it often becomes hazy and difficult to keep up with things over the years. Its easier to ignore it anyway

• No longer possessed by the malicious part of AS (though still retaining the abilities)

• has a scar just on the left side of her chest from being exorcised (stabbed with the "patch"/crucifix)

• either dresses like a schoolgirl or a 57 yr old man there is no in-between

• still needs to consume blood and flesh occasionally, as much as she hates it. Its like a bad craving that's unhealthy to suppress

• very malnourished at first due to the eating habits of the AS while in control of her body- takes a long time for her to gain an appetite back and stomach food without immediately throwing it up and heaving.

• she does get healthier eventually though!! Gains weight, her horns become darker and shinier (i need her to have something going for her ok)

• very isolated and defensive in the beginning while she's adjusting to everything.

• after MONTHS of recovering with a good support system, she does come back out of her shell. Much more timid at first after all of the initial aggressiveness, and slowly regains more of her old personality traits

• has lots of chronic pain and fatigue- usually comes in flare ups.

• has even more trouble walking than before. The first few months were the worst, while she refused help from anyone except Nate. Would constantly stumble, trip, and jerk around as she walked because of how badly her ankles and knees were damaged from the AS.

• eventually got in a better place and let others help her more- like physical therapy sessions but no one is licenced! She still struggles, walks with a limp and wears knee/ankle braces, but it's much more manageable than before.

• uses a crutch during bad flare ups or when walking for extended periods of time

• pining HARDDDD FOR UZIII even in the beginning when they didn't like each other lol

They were both just fearful and on edge around each other, and especially with Cyn assuming Uzi still hates her guts or wants to kill her, they tended to snap at each other from the tension. Things obviously ease up eventually though :3

Alright, this monstrosity of a post is long enough. I'll try to work on Uzi or Nate next! Theirs shouldn't be quite as long since this is mostly a very cyn focused au.

[thedevilssinner]

I wanna share something because I don't want to suffer alone with my thoughts 😅

It's one of the scenarios where Tav knew Astarion before he was turned, but I've never read anything where it played out like this.

I apologize if something is wrong, English is not my native language.

Imagine that Tav is an elf and Astarion's lover before he was turned.

They're devastated when they finds out that Astarion has been killed. Mourning his death for a very long time and even moving away from Baldur's gate because everything reminds them too much of Astarion.

They know that all their happiness and love are gone. No one can fill the void that Astarion's death has brought them.

And now, two hundred years later, they stand on the beach, the sun beating down on their head, the burning Nautiloid at their back and before them... Astarion?

Only it's all wrong, his eyes are red and he's pale... paler than he's ever been.

Anger rises up in Tav. How dare some shapeshifter even take on Astarion's form after their beloved has been dead for 200 years?

And do a bad job at it!

Before the pale creature could even call for help again, Tav lunged at him with an angry cry, surprising the imitation and truckling it to the ground, dagger pressed to it's throat while they straddled his body. "How dare you?! How dare you to take his form?! Show me who you really are... now!" They command, surprising even themselves with their actions. But they couldn't stop... not when someone is using Astarion's face for gods knows what.

"Darling, there seems to have been a little misunderstanding. I don't know what you're talking about, and I'd appreciate it if you'd remove the dagger from my neck." The shapeshifter replies, his voice smooth and flirtatious and so unmistakably Astarion's that it hurts, and Tav presses the dagger a little harder against his neck.

"Shut up, shapeshifter!" Tav shouts at him, gaze anchored on that so familiar yet different face. "Where did you even get his face?! His voice?!" They ask angrily, the hand holding the dagger starting to shake. "You have no rights to pretend you're Astarion when he's... when he's gone. And to do it badly!" They continue, still angry but deep seated sadness linger behind.

The shapeshifter's eyes widen, opening his mouth as if he wants to say something, Tav noticing the fangs there and even worse idea that him being a shapeshifter, starts to creep into their mind.

"Tav?" Fake Astarion finally speaks, saying their name as if he were saying it for the first time in a long time, tasting it on his lips. The previous flirting gone. Instead he looked confused and as if just now he remembered something that was hidden in his mind. "You are them, aren't you? Gods, how could I forget... so beautiful." His red eyes glide along Tav's face, his voice nothing than a whisper. He's clearly lost in his head and Tav swallows thickly, realisation slowly grasping their mind but they fight against it.

"No, stop! Stop it! You can't be him. You can't... he's dead and your eyes are wrong. You're wrong." Tav says, their body starting to shake all over, threatening to cut him by mistake with the dagger still against his neck.

But now it's easy for 'the shapeshifter' to take Tav's wrist and move their hand away from his neck, easily wrenching the dagger from their fingers and tossing it aside. His lips stretch into a sad smile.

"That's what vampirism do to you, my love." Astarion says ever so softly, the deepest pain and sadness etched in his voice and Tav knows, feels it in their soul, that he is telling the truth.

So that's how Tav meets Astarion again, this encounter more painful and bittersweet than anything else.

They stay on the beach for a little while, Tav crying their heart out and Astarion trying to hold back his own tears. Both of them not expecting something like this to happen.

(Sorry if Astarion seems ooc.)

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

✧Night Moths

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Summary: Arthur has a simple task to do, searching for any lead possible at the Mayor's party. Only problem? You also have a job of your own. Based on “The Gilded Cage” ✦ Warnings/tags: guns, strangers to…sinners?, SMUT 18+, reader is part of a St Denis gang, cover names used at first, smoking, Arthur is extremely horny and a little rough with you (you pushed his limits), cursing, outdoor sex, fingering, tits play, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v ✦ Words: 9,8k ✦ a/n: YES. I KNOW. This is super long. I have absolutely zero excuse. I feel like this is my best piece yet, but I'm so nervous about posting it! Once again, a big thank you to the incredible @zae-heeyyy, my jedi master, my confidence-booster and patience Queen, who beta-read this big baby and helped me so much with so many things, as always. (Go check her blog I'm begging you)

Glasses are twinkling and clinking all around you. Words are spoken, laughs are let out, champagne drank.

You're leaning against one of the stoned garden walls, fancy decor of the Mayor's house, the perfectly cut bushes looking just as fresh and neat as every guest at this party. You can hear the distinguished music coming from a quartet playing under a gazebo a few meters away from you, and smell the fresh air of the night blending with aromas of flowers, expensive alcohol, hint of vanilla and sweet scents hiding a stronger note of sweat and cologne. Around you, all the richest, wealthiest, and noteworthiest of people in St Denis. You can hear them talk; their conversation as dull and superficial as an empty chrysalid, an abandoned cocoon emptied from all substance, from all interest and life.

You hated those kinds of discussions. Hated those kinds of people, the ones that have the easiest and simplest life one could ever have; being fed, being cared for, even being told what to think and do. You almost envied them in a way, they didn't have to worry about a single thing apart from losing their power. It seemed comfortable somehow, worry-free. The exact opposite of what you had always known.

And yet, you had to bear with them. A very specific task had been assigned to you by your gang. A simple job, one you were often sent off to as you had grown by the years into a great thief and a terribly efficient shapeshifter; blending into any type of party, or gathering, always making a good impression, putting people at ease. You were now an expert at this little game, especially with rich men. They were all the same, always wanting more, demanding the same thing from you. You had learned how to play with their greediness and lust to turn it into your advantage, saloons becoming your jungle as you sneaked easily between your prey to rob them, a deadly and redoubtable leopard in a world of apes.

You needed to steal some important documents from the mayor's office. The main informer of your gang had specified it was a pretty strong lead, and that you could gain a lot from it; something to do with Leviticus Cornwall's dirty deeds with the mayor, a blackmail opportunity. 

Your boss had decided to send you, knowing you would easily integrate the party, and even more easily steal the documents. So here you were, feline eyes looking all around you, scanning, observing, evaluating. You couldn't just come, steal the papers, and go; it would have been too suspicious. All the contrary, you needed to be seen and leave a good impression like you always did, maybe stay for a couple of hours, and then smoothly retrieve your goal before disappearing in the secrecy of the dark night. A flamboyant, harmless butterfly… on the surface.

You sighed, trying to pay attention to what was being said to you. Right in front of you, a middle-aged man was talking, explaining something about how he had acquired his incredible wealth. His speech was sadly boring, his eyes glum, his clothes basic, his face awfully bland.

The empty chrysalis in all its gloomy glory.

You forced yourself to nod and give the man a charming smile. This was your job. You had to at least do it properly. Why was tonight a lot harder than the others? Were you frightened to be right under the Mayor's nose, fooling him into his own home? Were you tired, or sick? 

In a way, you were. Sick of this life, of this constant pretending, of being here listening to the literal hollow vessel bragging about himself, sick of needing to appear actually interested, charmed even. 

Suddenly, the music coming from the quartet is too loud, sharp violin blending with his words, making you even less focused. You were here for too long already, you needed a break and to finish your mission.

You politely interrupted the stranger, placing a gentle hand on his forearm, a gesture that you had noticed was prompt to soften most men. Along with your most charming smile, you excused yourself from him and quickly walked to a less crowded area, praying that no one would interrupt you.

You made your way up to the exterior stairs of the luxurious mansion just before the patio door and windows, and stopped on top of them, placing your hands on the central low wall, between two Greek columns. Another fancy facade, the house itself was just an imitation from another culture. Did any of these fools have any personal identity at all?

From here, you had a good view of the whole party. Countless fake smiles, masks, a literal scene of a play that could have its place at the Théâtre Râleur. A play of pale phantom shells.

You reached for your purse, taking a cigarette out, mindlessly putting it between your lips. Maybe smoking would help. You searched for a match, silently cursing realizing you hadn't any left.

"Ya need some fire, Ma’am?"

A deep voice said behind you, making you turn, surprised. It was unusual for people to startle you, your ears had been trained to notice the faintest of footsteps in order to survive.

You got even more surprised considering who had talked. A man was standing before you. He was taller, and largely wider than you, his black suit struggling to contain what looked like a well-built body; which made you wonder how could he have been so quiet. His shoulders especially looked way broader than the men you had the habit of running into at those sorts of gatherings. A very classical white bow looked like it was strangling him. His black tailcoat and white jacket looked larger too, making you wonder how much did he had to pay for the tailor to sew them custom-made.

His hair had a soft indescribable color, somewhere between a light brown and a sandy blond. His face, the work of a brutal draftsman, rough edges and strong squared jaw gratified with some scars. One on his chin, another on his nose, nose that seemed broken now that you were thinking about it. It looked like the artist that had drawn this man had sharpened his pencils too much and traced lines in a hurry, piercing through the canvas, his features ending up rugged and scared, some trace of graphite shrapnel that would have damaged the portrait.

What disturbed you the most were his eyes. They looked out of place considering how robust his features were. One could have expected them to be dark, black even. But they were the exact opposite, their bright and soft indigo color leaving you disarmed, two sapphires locked on your own pupils.

He was handing you a match, and you slowly took it, your fingers slightly discovering how his palm felt under them. Firm, calloused.  Another stone-like feature of him.

He looked like those Greek statues carved by artists. His beauty so singular and yet enticing. So different.

"Why, thank you, kind sir." You showed your gratitude to him with a grin, lighting the match by simply rubbing it against the cold stone of the fence, a little flame appearing instantly. You brought it to your mouth, the cigarette finally catching fire, and you breathed in.

"Ya don't smoke much?" He questioned, voice deep. You hadn't noticed how deep it was the first time, nor how pronounced his accent was, dragging and drawling every word, a slow melody of his own.

"Not too often, indeed." You informed him. It was the truth, you were basically just smoking during jobs to blend in more easily, most people doing it. It was an easy way to start a conversation with anyone. Just like he had done with you, you noted.

"Needed a break from high society?" He inquired, a sarcastic tone in his voice.

"I guess you could say that." You answered, exhaling a long drag of smoke. 

You were now completely turned to face him, your cigarette making back and forth from your mouth to the air where you tossed the burned ashes with a little movement from your thumb to the cigarette’s end. Your motions were elegant, distinguished but looked natural. It caught his interest.

"What's your name, sir?" You spoke again, curious about this uncommon newcomer.

"Tacitus Kilgore. What is yours, Ma'am?" He asked you back before placing himself on your left, both of you leaning on the low fence of the patio. 

You contained a chuckle. There was no way in the World this man was named like this. You knew something was odd about him. The scars, his knuckles redden and subtly wounded as if had fought recently.  His strong stature, miles away from a lazy bourgeois being served, his wild hair longer than the actual trendy haircut, his stubble fitting more a countryman than an actual St Denis gentleman. 

Years of playing with people and observing them had made your eyes alert and expert, and you could see when someone was pretending.

When someone was playing a role just like you were, not belonging into this World.

"Rose Schultz." Of course, it wasn't your real name either. You had to be a really poor thief to give him your actual one. He didn't react to it though, his face impassible just like the start of your whole conversation.

Apart from this vague feeling you had about him not being a rich gentleman, you found trouble in reading his emotions. His facial features were closed, impenetrable, mysterious. This also disturbed you as you had the habits of figuring men out right away; he on the other hand was a whole challenge by himself, his intentions hidden behind an emotionless face. This man probably was a champion at poker.

"Nice t' meet ya, Missus Schultz. Are you, erm, hidin' from someone here? Or jus' judgin' everyone from your perch?" He went on with a more amused voice.

"Just know that I'm not the type to hide from someone, Mister." You replied, a little grin curling up your lips.

"Yeah, you sure don't look like it..."

"You wanna know what I think you look like, Mister?"

"Go ahead."

"A wild horse who's trapped, and can't wait to be freed again."

Silence. His eyes stared deeply into yours, stabbing you in sharp blue flashes of Apatite, as keen as the blade of a knife. After just a few seconds, you finally see his mouth moving, his cold expression changing as a slight grin made his way between the stillness of his features.

"You sort of a witch or somethin' ?" He asked you, amused once again. His little smile is even more evident in his eyes, his lower eyelids crinkling slightly in amusement.

"Maybe." You answered cockily, feeling more at ease with him now that he was slightly more open. 

Still, there was something that was making you feel weak in the knees; maybe it was his tall stature, his strong build, or the palpable tension you could feel beaming out from him, as if he was ready to jump on someone who would have crossed him at any second.

In a way, you liked it. It was almost exciting.

"I better not mess wi’chu then. Don't wanna end up cursed or somethin'." He joked, features relaxing, body leaning slightly more against the low wall in a more comfortable position.

"Oh, I wouldn't dare. You also look like the type of man you don't wanna mess with..."

"I'm surprised how well you already know me, darlin'." He admitted, internally enjoying your conversation more and more.

Your heart swelled at the surname. It felt so good in your ears, it sounded better than from any person who ever said it to you. You wanted to hear it again. You wanted to hear him say it just to you.

"I'm kinda talented at figuring people out." You simply replied, before taking another drag at your cigarette.

"I too. And I also think you're not here to jus' play nice with everyone and enjoy yourself." He suddenly confessed to you with a knowing gaze, eyebrows raising as if he was trying to make you understand something.

He knew too. You both knew you weren't from this world, like two predators from the same species, recognizing themselves, circling, judging, from one individual to another. Your breath stopped for a very short time, nobody could have noticed it, but somehow you were sure he did.

"Don't ya worry little "rose", I won't tell no one..." 

You didn't miss how he was playing with your false name. On top of being astonishingly handsome, he had some spirit…

He's still looking intensely into your eyes. "In return, I expect you to do the same...", he added in a low voice, his tone firmer and even more resonant than earlier.

A threat. His presence only intimidates you, and it's working so well that you're almost sure he must be an expert in terrorizing too. He must be one hell of a weapon all by himself.

You slowly nodded your head, trying to swallow as naturally as possible to look unphased. 

"Guess we have a deal here, "Tacitus"." You emphasized his name, making it clear you're more than doubtful about it being real too.

It made him laugh, and you almost lost it at the sound of it. It was as deep, raw, and genuine as his entire being seemed to be. You loved it. You loved it too much.

Exhaling some smoke, you noticed he had pulled out a cigarette too and had joined your smoking, holding it between his thumb and index finger. You had mixed feelings for this man. He was just as intimidating as he was enticing, and you let your curiosity win the best of you as you carried on your conversation with him.

"I hate it here." You suddenly confessed.

 There was no point in playing anymore, and even if you didn’t really know why you had told him that, a part of you felt like maybe, just maybe, he could have understood you.

"Yeah, I get what ya mean. Sometimes I think that those people are jus'… reptiles in fancy clothin'."

You had seen right. Your chest felt light, as if he had lifted a weight in you with just those simple words.

"I just want to be anywhere else but here. Somewhere nicer, more authentic. Like in Big Valley..." You went on with your regrets.

"You too know about this place uh? Yeah, I can picture ya picking flowers in Lil’ Creek..."

This time it was your turn to chuckle, your laugh creating a little puff of smoke in the air. Was he being serious or just teasing you? You didn’t really care. Now, you felt like something special was linking you both as you knew exactly where this spot was, a happy memory brought back in your mind thanks to his words. The wild and fresh river, the meadows covered in thousands of violet flowers, the snowy mountains in the background.

Your cristal-clear laugh made him smile back at you.

"So... What does a woman like you is actually doing here, then?" He asked you, his eyes roaming all along your body while he did. 

You were glad you had put on the prettiest dress you had, its dark burgundy color matching perfectly the tone of your skin, and its generous cleavage showing a delicious amount of your chest, underlined by a black translucent shawl covering your shoulders and twirling around your arms. You were offering a tempting sight for every man. You knew he had looked at it, his eyes lingering there had almost burned your skin, sent a warm feeling between your tights, and made your hand hold your cigarette tighter.

"You really thought it would be that easy, Mister?" You answered with another cheeky grin, looking at him with a sensual gaze, your words let out in a languorous whisper, knowing damn well he was trying to gain information, probably to probe if he could get something out of it for himself. "You really thought I would just confess everything to you about myself and what I'm doing here, just because you've got a firm tone and pretty face?"

He let out a dry single chuckle, his cigarette hanging in the air, smirking some more. This damn smirk, it was making you have more and more inappropriate thoughts about this man. The wildness, the dangerousness he was emitting should have made every girl flee, but you, all the contrary, were attracted by it like a moth to a flame.

Or maybe he was the Moth. Maybe he was the beautiful, singular, and ephemeral Moth in the world of chrysalides you were searching for all along.

"Oh trust me, I could make you spit out everythin' I want, Miss." He replied to your taunting words with the serious threatening tone he had used before. "Could make this pretty mouth behave..." He added, looking right into your soul, bending slightly towards you.

You felt like the tension was about to make your whole body burst. There was something between you two, you were sure he could feel it too. A sinuous, dark creature swimming and circling incessantly under the surface of a frozen lake; waiting, craving to be unleashed, to break the thin layer of ice that was keeping it caged.

He was inviting you to measure yourself to him. Bent towards you, wanting you to close the other half of the space between you both. A challenge, or a mark of respect, the case you didn’t want to venture into this territory.

But truth was, you wanted to. You wanted to break the ice yourself, you wanted to just kiss him, right here, right now.

Of course, it was a bad idea. And you were a professional, on a mission.

Instead, you put your hand on his bicep and brought your head inches away from his, not closing the space between your mouths. You’re accepting this silent fight, excited to show him what you’re capable of. You’re enveloped by his strong scent; your lips so close to his. You can see by his widening smirk how delighted he is you didn’t change your mind nor lost your guts. Responding to your bold move, he slowly snaked an arm around your waist. His hand landed on your lower back, just on the verge of being offensive.

Both of you stayed like this for a moment, your breath mixing, merging in a dangerous and exciting cocktail, but neither of you actually crossing the limit.

He could sense just how close he was to though, his muscles were tensed under your fingers, his forehead almost resting on yours with a light frown on it. You could see in his impassive handsome face a whole new emotion. 

Pure, raw lust.

"You're such a temptatious, thorny rose..." He mumbled in a hot whisper against your lips, the warmth between your legs now burning like a wildfire. Your pussy was aching for him, and you couldn't hold it anymore.

You felt his body twitching as he was going to finally do it, finally break the ice of the frozen lake, finally let his impulses and needs break free, his unholy, deep, atrociously torturous desires-

"Ah, Arthur !" A relieved voice interrupted both of you and he immediately let go of you, his head snapping to look at the man who had talked, eyes widening.

A tall gentleman with a perfectly cut mustache as black as his long curly hair and hat was looking at your companion with a contained,  amused smile.

"Will you excuse us, Miss?" He said unctuously to you, his voice polite and charming.

It was more of a statement than a question. He quickly took one of your hands and put a polite kiss on it before bending slightly towards you, as a gentleman would, and looked at your opponent with an insistent gaze.

Arthur was fulminating. He wasn't actually showing it, his face had come back to its usual cold, emotionless expression. But you could feel from where you were the unbearable tension and frustration that was dripping from his body language, almost as a halo of warmth you could physically touch with your hands. He took a last look at you, eyes expressing a mix of regret and bitterness.

"Goodnight, Miss." He coldly greeted you, walking next to you to follow his friend and go down the stairs, his shoulder brushing against yours while doing it.

"Goodnight, Arthur..." You answered him emphasizing his name once again, making it really clear that you remembered it was not the one he had given you and that you were pretty proud you had seen right. A playful, teasing grin on your face, you look one last time at him before he vanished in the ocean of guests.

Your Butterfly had disappeared just as quickly as he had materialized; leaving you alone with the empty cocoons once more. It was more than time for you to do your job and get out of here. Your cigarette finished, now feeling cold between your fingers, you tossed it away and headed into the mansion, feeling just as frustrated as so-called Arthur.

Arthur was pissed. He had never felt so frustrated in ages, and it was making his thoughts even less easy to discipline. His cigarette was on the verge of being smoked all at once from how intense he was getting and how heavy his breath had turned, the end of it constantly burning in a red shining little point as he was walking. 

This whole year he had felt like he didn't have any control over anything anymore and he hated it.

He was already feeling embittered in his everyday life, Dutch listening less and less to his opinion, Micah sneaking around him more and more, Mary coming back to him just to ask him to help her goddamn father who had always treated him like shit. 

On top of that, Dutch had made him look like an idiot using his actual name in front of you, making him wonder what was even the whole point of having a cover if he wasn't capable of sticking to it; which he had bitterly pointed out to him, but his superior had shrugged it off, seemingly happy to be here amongst the important people, looking as careless as ever.

Yes, Arthur was feeling frustrated, frustrated and tired of this. Tonight, instead of giving of himself, he wanted to take, for once. He needed to, even. He was about to before being interrupted, and this thought was gnawing at him from the inside. 

He was barely paying attention to what Dutch was saying to him and the others once Hosea and Bill had joined them. All he could see was your insanely beautiful face, your inviting lips, the perfect outline of your breasts from your cleavage, like engraved into his pupils.

The way you were talking, charming and teasing, the way you were smoking, all of this dreadfully turning him on during all your conversation. He had made an enormous amount of effort in order not to just kiss you.

He had joked about you being a witch, but it was the only explanation: you had bewitched him, threw your darkest, most sinful curse on him. Never in his life he had felt so attracted to someone after having talked with them for only such a short amount of time. What an insane fool he was.

On top of it, he was raging about the fact he probably wouldn't have the occasion to see you ever again. He had understood you clearly weren't just another rich man's wife, and he was certain you had given him a false name. His cock was throbbing terribly hurtfully in his pants, making his jaw clench, his brows frowning even more than usual. It was begging to be buried in you, between your legs, in your mouth, or your hands, even your breasts or your ass, anything but the cold feeling of nothingness he was feeling right now around it.

The sudden explosive sound and colorful lighting of fireworks had pulled him out of his blasphemous thoughts. 

He understood Dutch was ordering him something about following one of the Mayor's domestic, and gladly obliged, relieved to have another thing to focus on. Something about Cornwall sending an important letter to Lemieux, which he had to steal. Nothing difficult, he had done those sorts of things countless times. 

Nothing new. 

Nothing puzzling, like you had been.

As he followed the man, eyes locked on his white suit from afar, he quickly took a glance at the patio to see if you were still there. You weren't. His dick ached as he let out a deep exhale. Damn it.

Arthur rapidly found himself inside the Mayor's house. His servant had entered what looked like an office. He waited a few seconds after the room had felt silent, behind the corner of the walls, just to be sure, and entered it.

The room was indeed an office, a little desk with an armchair on his left, bookcases covering every wall, simply illuminated by a flickering orange lamp. Everything looked normal, except for the dark figure of a person in the middle of the place.

You.

He recognized your sensual dress immediately and witnessed you shoving some papers in what looked like a leathered little pocket held around your right thigh by leathered straps, just like a holster would be. His mind raced, a million reflections flying under his eyes. 

You were some sort of professional thief. And he didn’t have to be a genius to understand you had just taken the precise thing he was there for.

"That's why you were here, lil' rose?!" He asked you almost in disbelief, closing the door behind him.

You looked at him with a bold grin, looking almost amused by the situation. He, on the other hand, felt nothing but amusement. Anger, to have been fooled so easily, and that you had got ahead of him, losing the quiet game that had been played out between you. Envy, as you were now possessing two things he wanted to take away from you. Arousal, as his eyes were glued to the thigh that was now visible to his greedy eyes as you had pulled up your dress to put the sheets in your hidden pocket. Need, as his member felt hard again just by the sight of you doing it.

"Yeah, and you can only dream for me to give them to you if those papers were your target too, Arthur."

Damn, that teasing, cheeky mouth of yours. His fantasies came back in full force, and his gaze darkened. As temptatious as you were, he needed those documents. And he would do anything he had to to have them back.

"Give ‘em to me." He lowly ordered you, voice so severe you could have melted right into the carpeted floor of this damn office. But you didn't.

"Hell no."

"Give ‘em t’me, woman. I won't ask nicely a third time."

"If you want them, you'll have to catch me, pretty boy."

Lord, why was everyone so prompt to call him this way lately? He almost grunted at the way you had said it, and he would have lied if this time he didn't like it when it fell from your lips. He wanted to reply with something witty and even more threatening, but in a flash, you had opened the window, and easily jumped outside.

This Goddamn woman. What was she exactly? Some sort of feline? Yeah, probably a panther, agile, impressive, dangerous like one.

He instantly ran after you, jumping through the window too, landing in a loud thud. He quickly spotted your dress running away, escaping by the entry’s portal, then in the nearest street, disappearing behind St Denis's myriad of flashing lights. 

How could he had missed it? His mind was filled with images of it.

He had the common decency of grabbing back his gun from the butler at the party's entry, making him almost fall on the ground as he hadn't slowed but had grabbed them while running, the poor man wondering what the Hell made both of these people in such a hurry.

He was now flying at full speed around the luxurious streets, following the faint glimpse of your dress's color at the corner of every turn. He felt like he could follow your scent like a hunting dog, your sweet and peachy perfume confirming him you had passed there before.

He had enough, feeling his restrain and manners crackling more and more into little pieces. You were making him feel like a damn animal, reducing his whole being to primal needs and functions. He should have been disgusted with himself for that. But all he could do right now was thinking about the damn documents hidden against your damn alluring thigh.

"Stop now, you Goddamn... Evil woman!" He tried to call you out, but you just wouldn't stop. He started firing at you, getting angrier and more fed up by the second, a bullet exploding a piece of the bricked wall right next to your head, some splinters cutting slightly the top of your ear.

You bent over to dodge his bullets one more time and you heard him cursing again loudly behind you. On top of being big, strong and clever, he was fast. In a quick movement of your feet, shaking them, you removed your shoes, unable to run at your fastest speed with heels. You continued your frenzied course, way more at ease.

Arthur rushed in where you were just mere seconds after you, noticing the shoes abandoned on the floor. What the Hell was even this woman, he asked himself for the second time this evening. Some sort of temptatious, dark retelling of Cinderella?

He almost made himself laugh at the thought, understanding your move because his own polished shoes were frankly a pain to run with, making him slip with every shift as if he was walking on soap and regret his good old boots, before acknowledging he had lost your trace.

Shit!

He looked all around him, his eyes scanning every inch, his breath rapid and sharp, his forehead and neck a pool of sweat. No signs of you, unless... 

Something fell right on his face, but gently, as a caress from a fresh breeze. Your perfume filled up his nostrils and lungs and it made his heart race. He took it in his hands, the sensations pleasant under his fingerprints. 

It was your black shawl.

Tilting his head up, he found you.

You were making your way up to the roof of the town by climbing on a thin ladder.

Arthur exhaled deeply through his nose like a buffalo. He was used to this kind of high-speed chase, but this was a whole new thing, which made him regret his lasso too, his hand searching for it on his belt out of habit but closing on nothing. 

Damned party, damned suit, damned you. 

He climbed after you, refusing to give up, enraged like a wild beast. 

He would catch you, dead or alive.

In a way, this was making him even more aroused than any work-girl show he had ever seen.

"I'm going to kill ya, that's a promise!"

You could hear just how furious his voice was now, and you were starting to pray you would flee successfully from him, cause you knew he would eat you alive if he could get his hands on you.

Arriving on top of the building, you caught your breath for a microsecond, before searching for a way out, gaze frantic, heart beating out of your chest. You were considering climbing to another roof, but the deep, breathless sounds of your pursuer prevented you from doing more thinking.

Arthur had reached the top of the roof too, and was already aiming his gun at you. This time he didn't even bother to say anything, shooting at you again while getting up. He was so seething you wouldn’t have been surprised to see saliva bubbling from his mouth.

By divine intervention, you dodged again, and without any thinking, you ran all the way to the edge of the roof, and jumped.

You stayed in the air for a few seconds.

You felt like time had stopped, the air brushing against your skin, your heart hanging somewhere between the sky and the total void.

You landed on a fancy and illuminated balcony a few meters away. You hurt your feet and legs with the shock, but smiled proudly to yourself. You were out of reach, he was way bigger and way heavier than you, there was no way he coul-

A gigantic mass fell on you, as Arthur had proved you wrong and jumped from the roof you had just left and was crashing directly into you. 

Both of you fell on the ground and struggled for a few seconds; you tried to resist him but it was a fight already lost, this literal force of nature easily handling you like he wanted. 

You ended up lying on your back, Arthur sitting on you, towering over you with all his might, quickly grabbing your wrists to prevent you from fighting, his legs parted around your hips stopping you from escaping. You were trapped.

"You're a pain in the ass girl, you know that?!" He shouted at you, breathless, raging mad. You were both panting, sweating heavily. His face was entirely red, and your cheeks even more crimson.

You both looked at each other, eyes locked, and you stayed silent. The dark creature prowling under the thin floe had returned and it was getting bigger, stronger, out of control with each passing second. There was something extremely erotic in the way he was almost lying on top of you, both of you out of breath, sweaty, and burning red, both your hearts beating at full speed in the same erratic rhythm.

Just like before at the reception, you knew he could feel it too. You knew it from the dark gaze he was looking at you with, the shady swirls of the murky leviathan reflecting in the depths of his pupils, from the deepest well of his urges, forbidden territory to which no man ever had access.

A simple touch of his hand, that's all it took.

He put both of your hands into a single one of his, using his other one to pull up your dress, fingers roaming on your thigh.

You couldn't hold it anymore, you bent toward him and slammed your lips against his in the most powerful and decadent kiss you had ever shared with someone, almost biting him.

The moment you did, Arthur's mind exploded, and every poor drop of restrain he had evaporated as quickly as if it was on the Sun's surface. The beast had won, finally shattering the weak layer of ice into a million pieces; your two souls blending in what could have felt like a fevered dream.

The grunt he let out onto your kiss was animalistic, and the tension in his body just as powerful as a waterfall with a brutal, unstoppable current. The hand that was holding your wrist let go of it and slipped under your head, fingers in your hair, as his tongue licked against your lips, searching for a way in. You let him in, eagerly, wondering if he would have forced the way if you didn’t. 

He tasted strong, as if to match his whole being, a powerful flavor of tobacco, merged with a faint trace of sweetness and bitterness from the champagne he had drank. Like if you were smoking the finest and strongest of cigars. It made you love it even more.

Abandoning all your restraints too, your hands wrapped around his neck and your hips started pushing up against his, even if you couldn't move much, his two muscular thighs keeping you grounded to the balcony's paved floor. It felt so cold against your back, contrasting with the heat Arthur was burning with, consuming, devastating, raging.

He growled again when he felt your movement under him. He needed more of you, right now. This whole seduction game, the adrenaline rose by the chase, your bold charming attitude, your insanely insolent beauty, it was making him insane. He roughly ripped off his bowtie with one hand, needing some air; it felt like you two were under the desert’s scorching sun, stifling, dazing. 

The right hand he had on your thigh traveled even higher under your dress, devouring every inch of flesh it could, and his appetite was only getting worse the more he discovered you. He smoothly moved his legs from around yours to put himself between them, and you instantly, almost from instinct, hooked them around his hips.

The sudden contact of your blazing core against his equally hot bulge made you sigh in pleasure, and he loved it. Breaking your kiss for the first time since you had initiated it, he pulled back to look at you, his deep gaze devouring you, undressing you just by its stare. 

“What’s your real name?” He asked you, voice hoarser than ever, demanding it from you.

You told him your name, limbs feeling like mush under his intense eyes. He repeated it quietly, like a prayer he would recite on his own. You felt less and less like the panther you thought you were, and more and more like he was the predator alone. In a shaking tone, you questioned back to know his full, real name, needing to know what words you’d have to whisper in gratitude when he would finally take what he wanted from you. To whisper, or shout to the Heavens.

“Arthur Morgan.” He let out, his lips quickly returning to their current addiction, your skin. The way they were attacking your neck didn’t have an ounce of control now, his mouth opening widely to almost take a whole bite of your flesh there, letting kisses everywhere it could.

“Tell me if you don’t want this.” He added against your skin, between two greedy open-mouth kisses.

A way to escape. The predator stilling, letting a way out. But you didn't wanted it. Not at all. Not now that he had surrendered to you, trusting you with the intimacy of his real name, that would be stuck in your mind for God knows how long.

“I want it.” You asserted, voice almost cracking with the weight of your need.

He moaned a relieved sound in answer, his nose exhaling some air that tickled your neck.

You weren’t even sure he could stop himself if you had said no. He was consuming you, and he felt completely drunk, as if you were coated with a powerful whiskey. Strong alcohol that his tongue was now licking all the way from your shoulder, up to your ear.

You moaned, the feeling of his hungriness so good and perfect on you.

"Gonna take care of ya now." He growled in a rumbling whisper, making your legs feel weak. Another one of his promises, but this one was going to give you salvation, and you were thanking him for keeping it. 

The bold hand he had under your dress took another step towards insanity by landing on your undergarments, his thick fingers searching for a way in. You were trembling with anticipation. You couldn't even register the fact that you were really doing this, right now, with a complete stranger you had met only a few hours ago, and who wanted to kill you minutes before, on the balcony of what looked like a habited place.

The obscenity, the depravation, the boldness of it was only matched by his relentless thirst for you.

His fingers had finally pulled your underwear to the side, and you sighed seeing him on top of you, eyes drawn to your bare pussy, carnal features empathized by the obscurity of the night. The tip of his fingers traveled amongst your folds, wolves into the forest, a territory they were now claiming as theirs.

You almost begged for him, for the wolves to eat you up all and let nothing behind them, please Arthur, and he offered you this damnation, the desperate call of his name igniting another fire in his already infernal mind. A single, calloused finger pushed into your folds, making you spread your legs even more to grant it better access. It was stretching you pleasantly, his skin rough and firm inside. You started letting out sweet, quiet moans, showing him just how much you were enjoying this.

Your two hands now gripping his back, holding on for something, anything, his dark jacket suddenly feeling way too smooth to grab onto; you were wondering how touching his naked back could feel.

Arthur was doing everything in his power not to burst once more, grunting in response to your loving sound. Slowly, he pushed another one, thriving in how wet and hot your cunt felt around his fingers, craving for the moment he would finally be able to feel this downright perfection around his cock. He felt like he was ruining you, throwing you to these wolves, and you were thanking him for it.

For now, he focused on you, blue eyes glued on your face when he started curling his digits inside of you, searching for this so special, so delightful spot within your walls. He was observant, noticing every sound you were making, every muscle tensing, to know if it was the place you liked that he was brushing right now. Wanting it to be the place you liked most.

By adding his thumb on your clit and pushing a little deeper his index and middle finger in your desperate pussy, he realized he finally had found the Graill as your back arched against the ground, your own hands gripping harder on him, eyes shutting in pure pleasure.

"Oh, God! Yes, right there..." You rewarded him, voice high-pitched and filled with delight, a tingling sensation spreading on your legs and shoulders.

He exhaled deeply, your words making his own member gorging, pressing against the fabric of his suit that felt too small to contain him. He started pushing in and out, pulling a whine out of your throat with every movement, as the thick tip of his fingers rubbed against your sweet spot every time, wolves once again in a world of sweetness and honey, lapping your delight, feasting on your pleasure.

“Told ya I would make this pretty mouth behave…” He said cockily after one of your moans. He was enjoying this all too much, finally feeling in control again, being the one and only responsible for your ecstasy. 

The distance between his mouth and you seemed to be unacceptable for him as he had succumbed once more to his needs, his lips finding your skin again, tongue tasting, teasing your chest this time, everywhere he could on the cleavage he had desired since the first time he had laid eyes on you tonight. Bent over to you, looking like a curved beast feasting on its prey.

You were feeling your pleasure building, Arthur’s face hungrily searching for one of your nipples under the neckline of your dress, and sucking it once he had finally found it. His teeth and nose had pulled your dress, freeing your entire left breast, bare, defenseless in front of him. 

Maybe he was the wolf himself. He sure looked like it, his face a maw fed by your soft flesh.

Every nerve of your pussy screamed for deliverance, this familiar sensation taking form in your lower stomach. Your moans were becoming even more high-pitched, breathless, almost obscene, much to the outlaw's delight.

You had thought of him before being a terribly efficient and multi-functional weapon. You couldn’t have known just how right you had been, your hardening nipple still chewed by his mouth while his right hand was sending you to your edge, thumb skillfully circling on your clit faster and faster, the two other fingers tearing apart your sweet spot, in and out, in and out, again and again, until…

“A-Arthur, don’t stop, please!” Your voice slit the night open, tone pleading as if you were begging for your life.

“I won’t girl, it’s all okay… Give it t’me…” He encouraged you, even his breath feeling rough against the skin of your chest before he sucked hard on the skin of one of your breasts, accompanying you to your salvation.

It was enough to send you over your limit, your pussy clenching, throbbing, entirely consumed. You moaned so loudly it could have turned into a scream, hips jerking against his palm, his other hand quickly grabbing your hip to steady you and carry you through it as his fingers were dragging every last drop of your pleasure out of you. 

“Yeahhh, that’s it gorgeous, just like that…”

He was frowning, the sinful sensations of your wet cunt coating his fingers in a warm slick and tensing around them making his eyebrow and jaw just as tensed, his face just a hint of how fucking riled up he was because of it.

Your head was still spinning and your breath uneven when he finally pulled his digits out of your walls, the fresh air replacing them. Lost in your haze, you weren't capable of doing anything else but looking at him through lidded, heavy eyes.

He was absolutely beautiful, even more than at the start of the night. His true nature out at last, his white fancy shirt disheveled now that he had removed his bowtie and soaked from efforts. Cheeks and throat as red as a sanguine sunset. Pearls of sweat sparkling on his burning skin with the Ocean of street lights of St Denis, reminding you of a night sky, making his sandy hair stick to his forehead in the hottest way possible. 

You didn't knew how could all this had escalated so quickly, but at that moment, you felt like this man before you was your whole universe, his deep ultramarine eyes completing the stellar work of art he was, shining, shimmering, more than any star in the sky, as if the Gods had capture the entire Milky Way and imprisoned it in his being.

Arthur had ultimately pulled his cock out of his black suit pants, only piece of flesh out of his clothes, and your thoughts were immediately contradicted; there was no way any virtuous God could have made a man so depraved. He was the work of the Other Side, Lust and Temptation personified. King of the wolves, he could have had all the Hounds of Hell kneeling before him.

He pumped himself a few times, unable to resist the call his member had been screaming for hours, reinforced by the way his fingers had tasted your wet cavern. Some precum had already leaked from his big pinkish head when he was fingering you and was now glistening in the night, making you think about the stars again. Your breath got caught at this sight and you couldn't stop yourself from letting out a praise.

"Perfect..." You simply stated in a whisper, eyes glued to his throbbing, veiny member, relieved he had already pulled an orgasm out of you because there was no way he could have fit in you otherwise. Your eyes followed the dark path of his hair, from the glimpse you had on his chest between the open collar of his shirt, all the way down to his pelvis and at the base of his shaft. 

You could only imagine what it looked like without any clothes on, and you were dying to know.

"Trust me, you're the perfect one, darlin'." He asserted, firm tone leaving little to contradiction. 

He positioned himself in front of your entrance.

You weren't even completely back from the world your first relief had brought you to, and he was already at your door again. But this time, Arthur couldn’t stop himself.

He had given once again, just like always. Now he wanted to take. He needed to take. The starving, depraved wolf. Slowly pushing, teasing himself, making his cock’s head sink into your dripping territory, creating wet and soggy sounds, a hardened spear into honey. 

He couldn't hold back a baritone moan, the feeling was even better than what he remembered. He hadn't taken the time or allowed himself to lay with a woman in ages, and God, what a return to this primal bliss.

He slowly moved some more, his hands spreading your legs a bit wider from around his waist to allow him to penetrate you more easily. Once you had entirely enveloped him, his tip deep inside, he let out another deep throaty grunt, the feeling making it hard for him to keep his thoughts clear. 

"Ahh... Shit, darlin’... So tight…"

Considering how his length was stretching you, you bet he felt your pussy tight. The first word that came into your mind was “complete”. So complete with his huge cock inside of you; you felt like you could have died happily like this. One of your hands slipped from the top of his back to the lower part of it, just above his ass, pressing there, showing him just how much you wanted him to move, to let go. 

Arthur didn't need much more as he pulled back slowly only to snap his hips back against yours, his cock pushing again all the way through your cunt in one hard single time, giving you another wave of pleasure as you both moaned together, unable to resist the intense sensation he was creating for both of you.

Hearing you whine, finally feeling your perfectly tight and warm pussy around him, it was making him lose all sense of restraint, and as your other hand ran through his hair, your angelic voice whispering his name as if he was your Lord and savior, he lost it. 

He started to pull in and out of you faster, harder, your bodies colliding in a delicious way, obscene noises echoing through the silence of the darkness. His increase in pace made your body scream in pleasure and you buried your face into the crook of his neck under the collar of his shirt, biting his skin there.

It made him grunt loudly, and one of his hands roamed from your hips to your rear, grabbing a fistful of your ass in an instinctive response. His other hand was on the ground next to you, keeping him from crushing you against it. It made your head blank with pleasure.

"Shit, Arthur! M-more!" You begged, feeling like you could die if he stopped, your voice turning into high squeals.

"Anhh- God... More? Don’t worry girl, I'll g-give you more...-Mmh!" 

His voice was heavy with pleasure, words cut off by moans and grunts you were delighted to hear, the most unholy and arousing music you had ever had the honor to listen to.

True to his words, he obliged, hips thrusting endlessly, member empaling you with each move. You could feel the flesh of his pelvis against yours with how deep he dived into you, and around it the stiffness of his suit, rubbing again the breast he had pulled out of your dress before, nipple sensitive after his previous treatment. 

If what was between you was once a frozen lake, it had now turned into an Ocean of lava, magma exploding, engulfing both of you in the most burning and devastating passion you'd ever experienced, a volcanic explosion of desires.

The hand he had on your asscheek reluctantly let go of it, but you ended up thanking him for it, cause he was now using it to put your left leg above his shoulder, grabbing under your knee, allowing him to fuck you in an even better angle than before. He was ruining you once again, but this time felt like the pack of starving enraged wolves had taken him with you to consume him entirely.

You leaned against the floor, back of your head feeling the paved coldness, only hint that everything was actually real. Arthur's eyes locked with yours as he kept on fucking you hard and fast, this intimate contact making his member twitch.

You felt so goddamn good around him, and looked so goddamn gorgeous like this, your cheeky grin long gone, replaced by a delightful frown of pleasure, mouth open in a quiet scream. Arthur felt his peak coming dangerously close, but his pace hadn't slowed, his fat cock thrusting in and out of you. In and out, like a furious, sacred metronome. In an out, like a blessed psalm you'd both be reciting together.

“Come on girl, I know you have another, -Damn it!-, another one in ya. Give it to me, come on, jus’ for me…”

Words and voice drowned in a flood of pleasure and curses, of deep grunts and growls, his possessiveness sending you over the edge once again, your inside closing its trap around him, squeezing just how he needed to.

His eyes shut close, eyebrows furrowing in utter pleasure as he sank so hard and deeply you could have felt him splitting your guts in half, his dick throbbing and harder than ever. It reached a spot so deep and good inside of you, burning it, your pleasure bursting as you felt your orgasm coming for the second time.

"A-Arthur!" You cried out as you came around him, creaming him, walls clenching in a delicious sensation that made him reach the stars.

"God, damn it!" He shouted, voice deeper and rougher on the curse word before quickly removing himself from you in a flash of lucidity, finishing messily, cum spilling from his red sensitive member in white spurts that ended up right on your belly as a feral, powerful growl escaped his chest and his head tilted backward, letting you see his throat covered in sweat and veins.

For a moment, both of you had turned into beasts, shattered all the limits, broke all the shackles, diminishing you into your more primitive instincts. The Wolves of Lust had devoured your being into the very last delicious bone.

And that’s how you felt. Boneless.

Now, stillness. A cold breeze enveloped the pair of you, the only sounds now being the distant agitation of the city and your pantless breaths. He slowly brought his chin back down and opened his eyes, mesmerized by the sight of you returning from the realm of pure pleasure he had provided for you for the second time.

He felt powerful. He felt good. Better than he had for months, finally satisfied. Like a God, a King. King of all the Wolves, Cerberus, the only guardian of your unholy realm.

He wanted to do this again with you, as soon as possible.

He carefully put his softening dick back in its clothed cage, fingers fumbling with the buttons of his pants as he felt completely spent, his hands shaking slightly. He wanted to help you get cleaned up, but you had already brushed what you could of his release off your dress. 

It would probably leave stains on your clothing nevertheless. 

A twisted, dark part of him, the part that came from the same pit as the dark creature and the Wolves, felt almost aroused and proud at the thought you would keep an imprint of him on it. This part was relishing noticing the big ruby mark it had left on your breast as you were putting it back under your neckline; he grinned to himself knowing it would make your memories of him more difficult to forget. 

He didn't want you to forget.

He slowly got up, offering you his hand to help you stand. You quickly put back your dress in its usual state, and wiped the sweat off your forehead. A silence settled between you two, thousands of questions floating in the air, but none of you ready to ask them out loud yet.

Finally, as you started shivering, only realizing now how cold this night was without Arthur's burning hot body on top of you, he spoke, voice even hoarser from having pushed on it too much, accent making every world sound heavy when they fell from his mouth.

"When can I see you again?" More than a demand, a promise. An order even. Cerberus needs his territory.

You already knew he kept them; his promises. Except for the one he had made to kill you. But in a way, he did, because you felt like you wouldn’t be able to ever feel so alive again without him. 

Like a condemnation.

"You won't." 

Certainty in your voice. But he didn't mind it. He had already broken you before.

"Oh, but I think I will, darlin'." Was all he said before stepping over the fence of the balcony, ready to jump off it. Before doing it, he pulled something out of his jacket and waved it at you.

The fucking papers.

A lightning of understanding and panic struck you; what you had thought was a lustful touch on your thigh, the one that had set everything on fire between the both of you, that had unleashed the Wolves, was in reality his sneaky hand retrieving the document from your hidden pocket.

Shit!

He gave you his cocky grin, blue gaze sparkling with mischief, greeting you with a two finger’s salute then jumped, disappearing in the night, away from you once again. You could have gone after him, as much as your weak and spent body would have allowed you to, but somehow, after all that he had done to you tonight, you felt like he had well deserved those damned letters.

tagging: @a-court-of-valkyries credits: Arthur's pic is not mine, belongs to fv8tt on Pinterest. Dividers and little moths doodle by me.

I reall hope you liked this one! I'm thinking about writing another part where the reader could confront Arthur again... Tell me if you'd like that! -Pine 🌱

[animasola86]

🐻 A HUG TO REMEMBER

m!shapeshifter x f!reader 🔥 very explicit 🔥 words: 7.1k

After a night full of unusual adventures and ordeals, you find yourself in the arms of your most memorable encounter, and you can't complain.

WARNINGS: NSFW! Explicit sexual content! Aftercare! Vaginal sex! Creampies! Cockwarming! Fluff? (READ ON AO3!)

This is part 6 of my CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE smut series! 1 🔸 2 🔸 3 🔸 4 🔸 5 🔸 6 🔸 7 It's the continuation of the continuation of OPTION 3 - can be read individually for the smut portion, but if you want to follow the plot, I'd advise reading the previous two parts or at least the first part, preferably all of them. This is the conclusion of the story after all!

CONTEXT: You were invited to a Halloween party in a mysterious house, dressed as Little Red Riding Hood, and on your way to get some fresh air, you first run into a werewolf, who knots and breeds you, then into two vampires, who spitroast you, and after all that... here we are...

“Hey. Hey, can you hear me?”

A deep voice rings in your ears, a low thrum in the void around you, muffled as if through various layers of cloth or from behind a thick door. A rasping inhale lets you stir, and slowly your body feels like your own again. Your limbs are tingling, your throat hurts, and something deep within you as well, there's an overall soreness all around, but when your eyes flutter open, you're just glad to be alive.

The sight in front of you still scares you, and you let out a hoarse whimper. A large man leans over you, tall and bulky, bulging muscles under a plaid shirt, strong legs, black hair, slightly curled and thick, a full beard, dark eyes staring down at you from under heavy eyebrows. You shy away, flinching, breathing harder.

“Hey, shh, it's all good. You're safe now,” he tells you with that low voice that vibrates through your body, and you frown, blinking at him in confusion, unable to relax as you stare at him. “Aww, don't tell me you've already forgotten about me?”

He flashes you a soft smile, exposing white teeth, and none of them seem abnormally large or pointy. You sigh and close your eyes again, trying to focus on your breathing, too weak to worry about anything at this point. Suddenly you're being lifted, held by strong arms, pressed to a warm chest, and you can't help it, you lean into it, savoring the protective gesture. The man carries you away, no idea where to, doesn't matter anyway.

“They got you good, hm?” He keeps talking to you, even though you can't find the strength to reply. “Should have stayed with me, little one.”

Slowly, you blink your eyes open and stare at him, furrowing your brows, really looking at him. Why does he feel so familiar? Slowly you move your hand up and brush your fingertips against his beard, the rough texture bringing up fuzzy memories of... fur? He gives you another smile, his eyes boring into yours. Your lips part as you try to sound out a question, but the pain in your throat is too strong to get any words out.

“Yes, little Red, I am your big bad wolf,” he replies nevertheless, seemingly reading your mind. Your eyes widen. It is him. The werewolf who knotted you. This is his human form? “But don't worry too much about it now. Let's get you cleaned up first, yeah?”

A sudden rush of warmth fills your cheeks and you look away, noticing not only the ripped shirt you borrowed from him but the large amounts of dried cum and blood on your exposed skin. The state those vampires have left you in is horrible. Vampires... for fuck's sake. You wanted to tick all of what happened tonight off as a dream, a nightmare maybe even, but the evidence that it may have actually happened after all is disturbing and hard to ignore. Sighing soundlessly, you rest your head against his shoulder as it starts to spin painfully. This is all too much.

He shifts you on his arms, hugging you closer as he keeps walking. There's a faint glow around you, and you realize that the morning must be close. You survived the night, huh? You're still not too sure about it.

You end up back in his cabin, though luckily not in the primitive basement but in an actual bedroom. He puts you down gently, makes you sit on the edge of the bed as he carefully peels the remnants of his ruined shirt off your body. You just watch him when he leaves the room for a moment before returning with a bowl of water and a washcloth, and when he starts cleaning you up, you close your eyes and let him, his large hands surprisingly soft and gentle as they work.

Eventually he pushes you onto your back, and again, you let him, relaxing into the soft sheets, as he starts wiping between your legs. You shiver when he brushes against your still sensitive clit. He gives you a few rubs, but then moves on, presses the cloth to your thigh, which causes you to wince when a sharp pain jolts through you.

“Can't believe they both fed off you,” you hear him mumble, his low voice a deep rumble in the air. “Insatiable bastards.” His hand moves back to your mound, his thick fingers teasing along your slit. “And they even cleaned you out, hm? Damn, all that effort for naught...”

You slowly open your eyes, meeting his dark gaze. There's a strange tension in your stomach. He keeps rubbing your labia, slowly pressing between them. His eyes are almost black now and as intense as you remember them, even though they've looked at you out of a very different face.

“I guess I have to keep you here a little longer,” he whispers, slowly leaning over you, one hand still at your cunt, the other braced beside your shoulder as he hovers above you. Your hands move up, brushing against his hard stomach. “To make sure you're fine, of course,” he adds, smirking down at you.

You bite your lip, watching him, your fingers clawing at the fabric of his shirt. You have no idea why you feel the sudden urge to pull him closer, wrap your legs around his waist and let him ravage you all over again, human form or not. This whole night has been quite the (sex) adventure, and somehow you don't want it to end. You don't want to go back to your boring life where everything is as expected, planned and sterile.

You'd rather stay with this savage man, who, considering your other encounters, has been the most memorable, and you can't wait for the moon to rise again. For now, you are also quite content with the hairy man above you. His deep laugh full of surprise echoes through the room as you grip the collar of his shirt and pull him down, smacking your mouth against his. He's quick to kiss you back, deep and passionately, your tongues meeting in a wild dance, as he leans his wide body onto yours carefully.

“Damn, Red, you developed quite the hunger, didn't you?” he mouths between kisses, his warm breath fanning over your lips. You can only nod, your cheeks burning up in slight embarrassment, but you still buck your hips up against his groin invitingly. “I'm not complaining,” he adds, playfully nibbling on your bottom lip as he responds with a roll of his pelvis.

Continuing to kiss him with a need that's new to yourself too, you let your hands wander over his broad chest before you fumble with the buttons of his shirt. You groan in slight impatience as your shaking hands can't quite finish the job. He leans back then, looking at you, then simply rips the shirt and shrugs it off nonchalantly, exposing a wide toned chest with just the right amount of dark chest hair.

Your fingers rub through it, it's not abnormally much, just enough to cover his big pecs before it thins out into a thick trail vanishing into his jeans. You follow it, palms sliding over hard muscles before your fingers curl into his belt, holding his dark gaze as you lick your swollen lips. His smirk is playful but has a dark edge to it. Instead of letting you continue on your quest to get him as naked as you are, he grabs your hands and pins them above your head, holding your wrists together with one large hand while his other hand closes around your jaw as he leans closer once more.

“You really want this, huh?” he growls quietly.

You nod frantically, not even hesitating anymore. There's a tiny bit of protest in your mind when it reminds you of the state of your sore body, but you really couldn't care less right now. You want to feel good again, and you remember, even though the details are hazy, that this man (albeit in his other form) has made you feel how you've never felt before.

He inhales deeply, his nostrils flaring as he takes in your scent, before he crashes his lips to yours again, quickly slipping his tongue into your mouth. His beard rubs along your soft skin, adding to the growing desire nestling deep within you. You struggle in his hold, really needing to touch him, grab his shoulders, sink your fingers into his thick hair, feel the strength of his body, but for now all you have is his eager mouth.

Once your head is spinning and your lungs burning, he slowly moves his deep kisses down your face, along your jaw, his warm hand rubbing over your sore throat before he turns your head to the side, exposing your neck to him. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your heart thundering in anticipation. But there are no teeth on your skin, just wet lips and a warm tongue, as he starts sucking on your pulse, lapping at the bruises he works into you.

“Tonight,” he huffs against you, “I'm gonna mark you properly. I'll make you mine, little one, all mine. So no one will ever lay a hand on you again.”

You gasp breathlessly, still unable to get any words through your hurting throat, but he seems to understand your non-verbal agreement as he presses his lips to your neck before leaning back, looking down at you, his dark eyes wandering over your flushed face. You look back out of hooded eyes with your lips parted and quivering. It's a strangely comforting thought to have this man, this werewolf, claim you. You feel protected, safe, and even if you can't properly think about the reality of it just yet, you can't find it in you to deny him.

“Y-yours,” you manage to croak out, and a wide smile breaks on his bearded face.

He lets go of your wrists and pulls you into the embrace of his strong arms, and you immediately snake your hands around his neck and into his hair, sighing contently as you feel the thick locks between your fingers and his mouth once again on yours.

For the longest time you're just lying together, cuddled up on his bed, hands holding and exploring, tongues wrestling, his heavy body pushing you into the mattress, and you wouldn't have it any other way. You're moaning against his lips as he starts growling low in his throat, his lower body rubbing against yours with increasing need. You can feel the heat of his hard cock through his jeans, and in an attempt to show him you're ready, you lift your legs and wrap them around his waist, pressing your equally hot center right against his bulge.

A snarl comes from his mouth as he leans back abruptly, braced on his arms, chest heaving, muscles dancing, before he jumps back fully, quickly fumbling with his belt and pants before he is finally completely naked, his erection bouncing against his lower stomach as he starts crawling back over you. You try to get a better look at it, but he's claiming your mouth for another kiss, though from what you've seen he may just be as big as his wolf counterpart, minus the bulbous knot, unfortunately.

But you're sure you'll experience that again very soon. The moon couldn't rise fast enough.

You expect him to immediately claim your hungrily clenching cunt, but instead of shoving his cock into you, you feel his thick fingers rubbing between your wet folds, coaxing quiet mewls out of your hurting throat. He keeps kissing you as he starts properly fingering you, pushing his long digits as deep as they would go. It's a lazy rhythm but it's enough to build up that sizzling heat inside you, and the tension builds and builds, until you cry out soundlessly against his mouth, stiffening beneath him, body arching, thighs twitching as you come hard around his fingers.

He inhales your breathless moans, plunging his tongue deeper while slowly massaging your fluttering walls, letting you down easy. You groan quietly in protest when he pulls his fingers out, the sudden emptiness almost painful. A chuckle escapes him as he presses his lips against your warm cheek and leans back, looking down. You follow his gaze and watch how he grabs his throbbing cock in his big hand, its tip as angry and red looking as you remember his wolfish dick. It's not as monstrous though, but still thick and veiny and long, and your head spins just from imagining it inside you.

You don't have to imagine it for long though when he then brings the precum leaking crown to your folds, swiping it through them to gather your slick, before he presses against your entrance, carefully, oh so careful you wish he'd be a bit rougher, and slowly your cunt opens up to him, and inch by inch, his cock disappears inside you. You arch your head back as you feel the stretch, your lips parted for a soundless moan.

He shifts on top of you, lowers himself between your wide spread legs, brings his forearms on either side of your shoulders, his hands cradling your head as he leans down again to shower your flushed face with soft kisses while he rolls his hips against you, so gentle you barely feel how he forces his cock past your resistance until he eventually bottoms out. Somehow it's a comfort to feel this full, filled and stretched, claimed.

Your hands dig into his hair, holding him tightly as you move your tongue around his, inhaling his low growls and groans as you grind your pelvis against him. His first thrust makes you see stars. It's a sudden jolt of pain, a deep little stab, and you flinch, gasping. He leans back and watches you, his eyes so dark and intense you can only stare back. He thrusts again, taking in your reaction, and when you flinch once more, he soothes his hands over your head.

“Does it hurt?” he asks gravelly, his voice vibrating through you, adding to the building heat inside you.

“No,” you croak out. There's discomfort, in your throat, in your ass, but your cunt feels right with his cock moving within it, a perfect fit, a thing meant to be. Your hands move to his face, rubbing over his bearded cheeks. “Keep going,” you manage to whisper past the ache. “Please...”

His lips curl up into a smirk before he leans down to kiss yours softly, then suddenly sits up fully, braced on his strong arms, resting on his haunches. He grabs your thighs and drapes them over his, and you automatically wrap your legs around his body and cross your feet, holding onto him as he starts snapping his hips against you, his large hands now on your waist, thumbs pressing onto your fluttering stomach.

He falls into a slow but steady rhythm, pushing deep and simultaneously pulling you into his thrusts, and all you can do is fall back into the softness of the bed and let it happen, your hands gripping the sheets tightly as you moan and mewl, your eyes rolling back in growing pleasure. He's much more careful than he was in his wolf form, really looks out for you, but still uses all of his body to stimulate yours.

You feel hot and cold all over, goosebumps rippling over your skin, deep shivers crashing through you, that heat building up deep within, ready to explode into a ravaging wildfire. Wet squelching sounds mix with the loud slapping of skin against skin, add to that your breathless gasps and his low grunts and groans, and you feel your head spinning in the best kind of vertigo.

When he eventually picks up the pace, you are immediately propelled up into new spheres of bliss, your eyes flying open as he grips your waist harder, moves his hips faster, his cock pistoning in and out with force and fervor. Your walls clench around him, your whole body shuddering under the assault. Hoarse moans escape you, lips parted wide, lungs burning, that tension in your stomach bordering on painful.

You come with a shrill squeak, almost soundless, ripping through your sore throat, but all you feel is burning pleasure, all-consuming, taking over every nerve and muscle, and he keeps fucking you through it with hard and deep thrusts, forcing through your tightening walls as they clamp around him with a force that makes you dizzy. He grunts loudly, shifting on top of you until his entire body rests on yours, pushing you into the bed, a comforting weight that keeps you grounded as you float away on that tidal wave of pleasure.

His hips smack into yours, even faster, more urgent and frantic, his groans getting louder as he presses his face into the crook of your neck, his beard tickling your fluttering pulse. You gasp beneath him, your trembling arms snaking around his body until you sink your fingernails into his back, holding on for dear life as he fucks you with reckless abandon.

It's all a blur now, a whirlwind of noises and sensations, little jolts of pain and overwhelming slaps of bliss, you can't breathe, you can't move, you can just take it, and you take it with growing need, absorbing every pummeling thrust, every deep plunge, every poke at your cervix, every drag along your walls, every rub against your clit. His breath is hot against your neck, his heavy body embracing you whole, eager to swallow you up, make you his. And you're here for it. For him.

Your noises grow louder, forcing out of your body, whines and wails, moans and mewls, your voice coming back slowly before you'll lose it all over again. He's hammering into you now, making you both bounce on the bed, a feral rutting that is all too familiar to you. You cling to him, arms wrapped around his neck, feeling the rough texture of his beard and the soft curls of his hair, and in your daze you see the wolf above you, his long snout, those sharp teeth, the long panting tongue, and you hear the low growls and snarls, the animalistic need to breed his mate, and it's that image that makes you come again, hard, uncontrollable twitches making your whole body convulse beneath him as you let out the loudest moan yet.

He slows then, labored breaths in your ear, hot against your skin, before you feel him shuddering as well, his big body trembling on top of yours, and his last thrust is particularly deep, a hard punch into your cervix that forces another explosion of pain and pleasure through you, and with a long groan he comes inside you, his cock throbbing, his balls drawn up tight between your folds, twitching with every spurt of hot cum he leaves deep inside of you.

You hold onto him, hands soothing over his broad back, as he fills you up, and because there's no knot to keep it in, his warm seed soon presses past your connection, seeping out of you in lazy globs that feel warm and soothing against your puckered hole. You slowly relax beneath him, coming down gently from all those highs, and his deep sigh vibrates through you as he does the same, putting his entire weight on you.

Your lips press against the top of his head, the scent of his hair, a mixture of pine and grass and earth, fills your nostrils. You close your eyes, a soft smile creeping onto your features as you feel his beard rubbing against your neck, a low hum escaping him in response. For a moment you just lie like this, both boneless and exhausted, his cock still giving the occasional twitch as another spurt of his seed pumps into you while your cunt clenches lazily around him, and you could fall asleep like that, overwhelmed by a strange kind of comfort you've never experienced before.

You could certainly get used to this...

Before you can drift off, he suddenly moves, his muscles working as he pulls his arms around you and rolls you both onto your sides. You already miss his weight on you, his enveloping warmth, but he quickly pulls you into him, pressed to his wide chest, and you nuzzle into his hoarse chest hair, inhaling deeply. He tilts his hips, and you feel his cock slipping free, followed by a surge of warm cum flowing out of your pulsing pussy.

He groans as he puts a hand between your legs and tries to hold it in, fingers eagerly pushing his seed back between your tight muscles, and before you know it, you are being rolled around until your back is to his groin, and he lifts your leg and replaces his fingers with his cock, still impressively hard as it slips back home, filling you out all over again. A soft moan escapes you as he drapes his large body around yours, holding you tightly against him, his beard rubbing against your cheek before you turn your head and meet his lips for a soft kiss.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice just a low thrum in the air.

“Yes,” you breathe against him, reaching out a hand to grab his face, pulling him even closer. “Never better...”

He smiles against your lips, deepening the kiss as he grinds his hips against your rear, though he doesn't move much, not intending to fuck you all over again, and he stops completely once his entire cock is fed deep into your cunt, just resting there, hot and heavy. His hand moves to your stomach, and yours joins soon after, fingers interlacing as you both feel the tightness of your belly and the slight bulge his cock and cum created. It's a pleasant fullness, a soft warmth both inside and out, a comfort you don't want to let go, ever.

Eventually you do slip away into unconsciousness, mid-kiss, with your lips brushing against his, before he wraps his arm tightly around you and nuzzles against your neck, your head lolling away as sleep grabs you tightly.

You wake up in almost the same position, with this large man wrapped around your smaller body, holding you tightly, his cock still very much buried inside you, but now he's sleeping, soft snores rumbling through him, deep inhales letting his toned chest rub against your back. You blink your eyes into focus and look around the room, bathed in bright sunlight that hurts your eyes, and you wonder how you got here, how a mysterious invitation to a (not at all) simple Halloween party brought you into the arms of a man who will turn into a monster as soon as the moon rises.

It still doesn't make sense, none of it, and maybe nothing of it happened after all? You did sleep with the man draped around you, that was real, but maybe that was it? The rest was just some alcohol-induced fever dream? Maybe. It would be easier to believe for sure, easier than whatever your mind tries to tell you may have happened. For now, you force the contradicting thoughts away and focus on the very real man snuggled up to you.

Lifting a hand, you rub it along his thick forearm, feeling those bulging veins under his tight skin and the hard muscles flexing slightly as you do so. A few seconds later, he stirs behind you, inhaling deeply.

“Awake already?” he rumbles into your ear, his hot breath fanning over your jaw.

“Sorry, didn't mean to wake you,” you whisper, lying as still as possible in his embrace.

“All good,” he replies with a groan as he grinds his hips into you.

Immediately you feel a burning pain crashing through you, your muscles tight around his cock, too tense to allow for much movement that doesn't hurt. He stops, his hand moving from your stomach down between your legs, fingertips brushing against your hooded clit, slowly waking up those resisting nerves.

You gasp softly, arching into him at the sensation. “Have I told you how wonderful you feel wrapped around my cock?” he breathes against you, sending shivers down your spine. “You do, such a perfect fit. Molded to me, haven't you?”

You hum in response, closing your eyes as you relax under his ministrations. Your muscles ease, allowing his cock to slide back and forth slightly, and before you know it, he's coaxing a gently building orgasm out of you that makes you keen in agonizing bliss as it crescendos into another one of those mind-blowing experiences that have you twitching uncontrollably. He quickens his thrusts, eager to follow you over the edge, and when he does, he grunts into your ear, holds you tightly against him, his hips jerking against your rear as he adds hot spurts of cum to your burning juices.

You sigh deeply when he stills, leaning into him, breathing hard from not doing much, and you realize you always want to wake up like this, in the arms of this man, fucked fully awake by his amazing cock. As soon as the post-orgasmic clarity settles in, you also realize that this will never become a reality. It can't. How should it? You barely know him, he's a werewolf, it was just a one-night-stand, he's a werewolf, you have to go back to the city soon.

Inhaling sharply, you stiffen in his hold, trying to ignore the soft kisses he plants on your neck and shoulder before he slowly moves back, detaches himself from you and your fluttering depths, and as soon as his cock slips free, a warm wave of cum seeps from between your thighs. You press them together, rolling up into the sheets when his warm body is gone. He stands from the bed, stretching, then walks wordlessly into the bathroom.

Maybe it's better this way. You shouldn't get too attached. He lives in a cabin in the woods, might be connected to the mysterious house you were invited to last night, and when you remember the drive here correctly, it did take you quite a while to get here. You can't do a long-distance relationship, it'll eat you up, you just know it. And he can't come visit you either, what if he turns into a monster and ravages half the city block?

Though he did seem to have his urges under control (more or less anyway) when you first encountered him, but still, the city is no place for a werewolf.

And what if this is just a fling for him anyway? What if you are the only one stressing about what happens next? But he did say he wanted to make you his, his mate, for nobody else to touch, wait, yes, he promised you he'd do that tonight, but... what if that was just some lust-induced dirty talk? It would mean you'd have to stay the whole day, wait for the moon to rise, and you can't do that.

You have a job to go back to, a boring life that waits to be continued. This party was already a big step out of your comfort zone, you can't just throw your life away for a hot guy, can you?

Groaning in frustration, you grab the pillow and bury your burning face in it, hoping to smother the thought carousel before it gets out of hand. Seriously. Since when are you such an overthinker?

A sudden noise makes you stiffen. He's back from the bathroom. But you can't look at him. You should leave. End it before it gets complicated.

“Do you want to shower next? It's still nice and toasty in there,” you hear his low voice, muffled through the pillow.

You grunt a reply, and without acknowledging his towering form in the room, you slip off the bed and into the bathroom. The shower, however steamy it is, clears your head, and when you reemerge, dried off with the provided towels, you wrap one around your body and slowly step back into the bedroom, bracing yourself for what may come next.

You find the man whose name you never learned sitting on the edge of the bed, fully dressed in another plaid shirt and dirty jeans, and he's holding a stack of clothes, your blouse and skirt as you recognize, and the red cloak he was so fond of last night. You walk up to him and take the items, biting your lip as you nod at him. He watches you as you re-enter the bathroom to get dressed, which seems silly considering he's seen every inch of your body multiple times by now.

By the time you're dressed and ready to leave this all behind, your stomach is tense. “I...” you start as you meet him back in the bedroom, wringing your hands nervously.

He tilts his head, deep creases on his forehead. “Are you hungry?” he asks then, ripping you out of your dark thoughts.

You blink slowly, parting your lips only to press them together again. Then you just nod. He smiles at you, his whole face lighting up, the frown disappears while other creases appear in the corners of his eyes, dimples on his cheeks, almost hidden by his thick beard. He stands up and reaches for you, and you don't even hesitate when you put your small hand onto his large palm.

He leads you towards a small kitchen that opens into a cozy looking living room with a big couch and a fireplace. As you sit down on one of the bar stools lining the island, he rounds the counter and starts preparing breakfast. You focus on him, trying to ignore the ongoing debate in your head. In the end you and your overbearing mind come to the conclusion that you'll just enjoy the moments you still have with him, before you have to leave.

“Hey, um, you never told me your name,” you say a little shyly as you watch him crack some eggs into a sizzling pan.

“It's Bear,” he tells you, turning his head to meet your curious gaze. His dark eyes gleam in the sunlight flooding through the large window of the living room. They glow like amber.

“Bear?” you repeat, frowning with a smirk. “But... you're a werewolf. That's kinda ironic.”

He chuckles deeply. “Maybe, yeah. But you know, I wasn't born a werewolf, I was born a shapeshifter.”

Your eyebrows rise at that. “What?”

“I can shift into various animals. Usually a big black bear, sometimes a large wolf too. Or a fox if I feel playful.” His voice is so even, natural, he's either a great story teller and liar or... no, this can't be true.

“You're kidding me,” you whisper, leaning onto your elbow.

He winks at you. “Nope, I am a shapeshifter. It runs in my family.” He moves the pan over the burner for a moment before he pulls it off and turns fully to you. “You accepted that I am a werewolf, but this is baffling you?” he asks with a smirk. “These grounds have always been in the care of my ancestors, for a very long time. I'm just the latest groundskeeper.”

“So you belong to the house?” you ask quietly, trying to make sense of what he's told you.

“In a way. The house has a strange history, to be honest,” he says, inhaling deeply as he stops the meal prepping and crosses his strong arms in front of his chest. Leaning against the counter, he watches you, and you frown, urging him to continue. “Well, you see, it shouldn't be here,” he goes on ominously.

“What do you mean?”

“It was built on land that shouldn't be built on,” he clarifies. “I don't want to go into too much detail, but, well, people back in the day didn't care about traditions or customs, or warnings. They just did what they wanted, took what they desired. So the house was built, and my family was asked to leave the grounds. Of course that couldn't happen. Somehow we made the compromise that we could stay and care for the grounds and the forest, and they let us. But it wasn't a fair exchange, as were most things back then...”

You listen with growing interest, your eyes wandering over his tan skin and the deep sorrow in his eyes. He keeps talking, his voice low and almost melancholy.

“Some of us didn't like it, and... well, things got out of hand. There was a shaman who lived deep in the forest, and she didn't accept neither the new house nor our willingness to work for those people, so she threw around some curses...”

“Curses?” you echo, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Yes, ancient magic made worse by strong emotions. Some say the shaman was fueled by the injustice of the situation, others think she may have had an affair with the house owner, or... well, maybe something else happened, something darker, nobody really knows. But her magic was so strong it is still up today.”

You stare at him, both fascinated and deeply unsettled by his story.

“For one, she cursed us groundskeepers with Lycanthropy, which, us being shapeshifters, shouldn't have been such a bad deal, but you see, I can control turning into animals, I cannot control turning into a werewolf under the full moon. It took me a long time to control myself while transformed as well. The creature you met yesterday was just a shadow of the monster I used to be.”

Your eyes widen, before you blink and frown. He takes a step closer, towering over you as if to trigger your fight or flight instinct. But you're eerily calm when you watch him. “I'm not afraid of you,” you whisper, reaching out a hand towards him. He smiles softly, a sad twinkle in his eyes as he puts his long fingers around yours, squeezing them gently.

“You're special, Little Red,” he whispers, eyeing you closely. “And probably the first to even find your way onto my grounds.” He sighs loudly when your frown deepens. “You see, the shaman also cursed the house. I can't even really explain it, just... well, it slips in and out of existence. It's always there, but it cannot be perceived all the time.”

Your mouth falls open slightly. That explains why you couldn't remember ever seeing it before. You nod to his words, and he continues.

“Sometimes, on special occasions, it reaches out into the world, trying to lure in lost souls. You came here for a party, right?” You nod again. “You see, the inhabitants of the house, staff included, they cannot leave. So they invite random people hoping that some will stay and join them. Nobody usually does. Most come here to party, enjoy a special night they will forget as soon as they step foot over the threshold.”

He tilts his head, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand as he stares down.

“Can you remember what happened in the house?” he asks, slowly looking up.

Your mind buzzes. “Faintly. I mean, hmm,” you make, pulling your eyebrows together as you try to think back to the party. There was a party, right? A Halloween party, yeah, colorful lights through the windows, the low thrum of the bass of the music. You see the invitation in your mind's eye, you assume there have been a lot of people in costumes, food and drinks, but... the more you try to think about details the less feedback you get. It's all fuzzy.

Well, not all of it. It's blurry but you see a mask looming over you, a stranger's voice in your ear, a cold knife against your skin. And after that (or before? You can't be sure) there's the sound of rushing water, then... nothing, just a thrum in your head, deafening silence almost. And it wasn't nothing, there was something, very invasive, you can almost feel it, all over your skin, and more than that... deep inside you. A shiver crashes through your body as you force away the strange sensation.

You look up at the tall man in front of you. “You can't, hm?” he growls quietly, and you nod, deciding it would be best not to share those particular memories with him. “You weren't meant to stay then. Lucky me,” he adds, his serious face morphing into a smile. You blush deeply at how intense his dark eyes look at you. “Instead you ran right into my arms.”

You look away with a shy chuckle. “Well, I did run away from you as well,” you whisper.

“You didn't know better,” he says, letting go of your hand to walk around the island until he's standing behind you, his large hands heavy on your shoulders. You turn your head slightly, trying to look at him out of the corner of your eye. He leans closer, rubs his beard against your cheek. “But you learned your lesson, didn't you?”

Somehow his words sound both enticing and flirting, but also a little threatening and menacing. You shiver. “I...”

“You won't run away from me again, right?” he whispers, his low voice just a thrum in the air, a vibration through your head. “I told you you are mine now. I won't let you go.”

You swallow, stiffening slightly. “But...”

“You were called here,” he continues, ignoring your feeble attempts of protesting. “The house invited you, beckoned you, but it couldn't hold you, you left, stepped into the maze, found me...” He inhales deeply, leaning his chin on your shoulder. “You found what you were looking for.”

You blink in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Like I said, the house calls upon the lost souls, those who wander through life. Some answer, either to find what they are looking for or to never leave again. Think, little one, were you a lost soul, trapped in a boring life with no way out? I believe you were, but no longer, hm?”

Slowly you break your stupor and turn around on the stool, fully facing him. He leans back a little, watching you closely. His words confuse you, but they poke into the dark corners of your mind, at the things you've hidden away. Your desires that could never come true. Like this. With him, this can't come true, right?

How can you throw away your old life because of some ancient hocus-pocus beckoning you to a place where you will find... what? All the answers? True love? Your soulmate or something? Or just a guy who can give you some much-needed cuddles and mind-blowing sex? Is that it? You never believed in the supernatural or paranormal. All this talk about curses and lost souls and werewolves – Hang on. You blink slowly.

You'd be pretty ignorant to disregard all the things that have happened. You saw his werewolf form, you know it intimately. And you were abducted by vampires, ravaged and bitten. They exist. And this man in front of you exists. Sure, you never saw him transform, but you believe him. He feels real and genuine.

And the way he looks right into your soul, picks up on those urges you keep fighting. You already told yourself that you want this, wake up in his arms, be with him, experience that knot again. It is all strange and unnatural, but then again... Maybe you were looking for something like this. You'd have never thought you'd end up with an actual shapeshifter, a werewolf, but does it matter in the end?

He is still a man, a big strong man with the right hardware, and as you feel the warmth creeping into your cheeks, scolding yourself for thinking such primal thoughts, you bite your lip, your eyes wandering over his hairy face. Slowly, you raise your hands and brush your fingertips against his beard, tracing the edges. He watches you, a twinkle in his brown eyes.

“I don't have a choice, right? Fate decided for me,” you say quietly. A deep dimple forms beneath your hand as he smiles at you.

“Indeed it did, little one,” he replies gravelly. “And no one should challenge fate.”

“Hmm,” you hum, cupping his face as you pull yourself closer to him. Before you can, however, meet his lips like you intended, you pause, a thought crashing through your head. “Hey, uh, you said you'd make me your mate. Does that mean I'll become a werewolf too?”

He blinks slowly before he barks a deep laugh. “Your mind works in fascinating ways, Red,” he muses, but then sighs and leans back, slipping from your hold. “No, you won't become like me. It's part of the curse. I'm destined to stay alone.”

“Wait, but I thought... we...”

His arms wrap around your shoulders and lift you up easily as he presses you to his wide chest. “Alone with my cursed fate, but I feel this doesn't count. You came to me, we found each other in the maze. It was your destiny that we met. You may just be the first to fight the pull of the house, it's a sign. And I'd be stupid to let you go ever again...”

You snake your hands under the strong grip of his literal bear hug, gripping at the back of his shirt. “I won't leave,” you mumble into his chest. “I want to stay... with you...”

He leans you back and grips your upper arms, looking down at you with warm eyes. “Good, I'm glad. I was already worried where I'd put your cage.”

You frown before you see his wink and blush deeply, giggling softly as you slap your hand against his chest in mock indignation. “Leave the kinky stuff for when we know each other a bit better?” you tease with a smirk.

He laughs, a deep rumble in the air, and pulls you into another hug. You wrap your arms around his waist and inhale deeply, sinking into his strength and all-consuming warmth.

You came here for a night of partying, drinking, eating, meeting people. To let loose. Have a little adventure. In the end you found so much more.

1 🔸 2 🔸 3 🔸 4 🔸 5 🔸 6 🔸 7

End notes: Thank you for joining me on this ride! I really appreciate the support! I'm happy you liked my little experiment!

It started as a means to get as many monster encounters as possible into one story, but it ended with actual plot, who would've thunk! And the best part, if you enjoyed it, there will be more!

I will expand on the story of Bear and Reader, giving them their own adventure, AND, because I initially intended to wrap this up differently, I will add some bonus chapters to tie up any loose ends of this story, hopefully.

The first bonus chapter THE HOUSE is out now!

A little research side note and disclaimer: I know this is just a silly little fantasy smut story, but I still tend to research quite a bit for my writing. I mentioned above that a shaman cursed Bear and the house, and I just want to make clear that, while I hint at certain dynamics and historical "facts" (really vaguely implying that Bear and his family are from an indigenous tribe and the house owners are some colonizers/settlers taking over their lands), I do not mean any offense by using this word or any other implications made. I looked for a better term, but couldn't find any in the time I had to edit this. In the end, I am just a smut writer and a European at that. I know I only grazed this topic and was mostly only inspired by it, but I am still sorry if I offended anyone with what I wrote or implied!

MASTERLIST // AO3 // ORIGINAL WORKS

KINKTOBER 2024 MASTERLIST

[weemssapphic]

hii, could i request a fic with reader and handsy drunk larissa?? they have a crush on each-other but they won’t admit it until one night where larissa calls reader in her office for a glass of wine and became too drunk, this leads them to a make-out session and sex with some after care. if you want can you add some comfort for larissa who has old wounds from old lovers that comes up at the end?

hey feel free to change what you want, it’s completely fine if you don’t want to do it or you are not comfortable with it!! i hope you have a wonderful day!! <3 (sorry for my english!!) i’m sorry i don’t know how to do a request 😭

:)

hi bestie!!! this fic has been a LONG time coming and i'm absolutely just as feral about it as i was the first time we talked about it. hope you enjoy, love 🥺

taking a chance

Larissa Weems x shapeshifter!reader

words: ~8.5k

content/warnings: smut (minors dni pls), g!p (reader is a shapeshifter), virgin!larissa, drunk sex, nipple play, cunnilingus

Platinum curls catch the sunlight that follows the curve of a high cheekbone and a defined jawline. The same golden rays glint in deep, sapphire eyes, making them shine clearer and brighter. Ruby red lips curl into a smile around brilliantly white teeth, parting as the principal addresses the crowd of students and teachers with passion and enthusiasm.

You can see her warm breath slightly against the chilly fall air, her cheeks and the tip of her nose turning ever so slightly rosy with the cold - it makes her even more beautiful, if that’s at all possible, and you’re certain that you’re gaping at her with a dreamy expression on your face but you’re helpless to stop yourself.

Sometimes, being in her presence causes you to hang onto her every word, memorizing every syllable and the way it tumbles from her painted lips. At other times, you’re lucky to even catch a gist of what she’s saying, far too busy admiring her beauty and daydreaming about a life where you might just have a chance with this stunning goddess. Today seems like the latter kind of day.

Principal Weems - Larissa - pauses her speech and scans the crowd. As her gaze lands on you, she offers you a closed-lip smile - almost shy in its nature. You accept the offering, you’d be stupid not to, beaming back with a faint blush spreading across your cheeks. She winks in your direction before turning her attention elsewhere and resuming her speech as if nothing had happened. How she can move on from that moment so easily, you can hardly fathom - you’re rooted to the spot, your heart beating against the constraints of your rib cage, your mind replaying the wink over and over again. 

After the speech is over and the students and faculty have begun to disperse, chatting amongst themselves in small groups or hurrying to get out of the quad and back into the warmth of Nevermore’s rooms, you expect Larissa to head back to her office. What you don’t expect is to feel a gloved hand on your shoulder, long fingers giving you a surprisingly gentle squeeze.

“Principal Weems,” you manage to say, your voice only slightly breathy as you turn your head and realize that her face is a lot closer than you were expecting.

“Darling,” she says with a chuckle. “You’ve been at Nevermore for almost a year now, you’ve more than earned the right to call me Larissa.” Her cheeks grow even rosier as she talks to you - from the cold, probably, you think.

“Larissa,” you concede with a soft smile, your blush matching her own - definitely due to the wind nipping at your own skin. “What can I do for you?”

“I was actually wondering if you’d like to join me in my office this evening for a glass of wine.”

Your heart skips a beat, your smile growing in spite of yourself. “What’s the occasion?”

“We haven’t had much opportunity to get to know each other one-on-one this year - I’d like to change that.” Larissa looks almost nervous as she explains herself, but you shake it off - she couldn’t possibly be nervous asking you to join her for a drink. If anything, it’s the other way around - not that you’d ever admit that out loud. You’re sure your boss wouldn’t appreciate you openly crushing on her, and you want to remain professional.

“I’d love to, Larissa.” The name feels foreign on your tongue, but you could definitely get used to it. “What time were you thinking?”

The principal’s returning smile is bright - it melts your heart with its sincerity. “Does 7 o’clock suit you?”

~~~

That’s how you find yourself pacing anxiously in front of the door to Larissa’s office at 3 minutes to 7, not wanting to appear too eager - the decision on whether or not to knock already, however, is taken from you when the door creaks open, startling you and causing you to freeze in place as Larissa pokes her head into the hall.

“Principal Weems.” You hope you don’t sound as nervous as you feel, and you slide your hands into your pockets to keep them from shaking.

“Larissa,” she scolds playfully, stepping aside to let you into her office and closing the door behind you.

“Sorry. Larissa.” You like how the name rolls off your tongue - it makes you smile, and it appears to have the same effect on the principal. “How did you know I was already here?”

Larissa smirks - you could swear she’s giving you a once-over, her gaze sweeping your form, but she’s so quick about it that you wonder whether or not your brain is playing tricks on you. “I heard you pacing.”

You flush instantly, dropping your eyes to the floorboards in embarrassment. “Keen hearing,” you mutter, mostly to yourself, but it gets a laugh out of the blonde - you glance up to see her grinning at you, which only makes you blush harder. 

To your relief, she’s turned just as red as you have, a fact that she seems eager to distract you from. “Please, have a seat,” she says, gesturing to the sofa in front of the roaring fire as she walks in the opposite direction, fetching a bottle of red and glasses from a small cabinet in the corner of her office.

The room is cozy, you think, as you sit on one end of the sofa, basking in your surroundings. Of course you’ve been in here plenty of times before, but never in such an intimate context - it’s always been business, never pleasure, and there’s never been time to properly admire how very Larissa the office is. 

The sofa dips beside you, the woman in question placing two glasses on the decorative coffee table in front of you and filling each with a bit of wine. You thank her, gingerly taking the stem of the glass between your fingers and raising it - Larissa does the same, smiling warmly as she clinks her glass against yours then takes a sip.

“I hope I haven’t made you uncomfortable by inviting you here,” she says, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other. Your eyes follow her leg as she moves it, trailing down her calf as the firelight flickers against her pale skin - it’s both fascinating and arousing to you just how long her legs are, you’d love to get the chance to run your hands along her toned calves, rest them on her knees…

Fuck, you’re staring. You quickly look up to meet Larissa’s gaze, the only indication that she’s caught you staring is a faint blush on the apples of her cheeks. “N-no, of course not.” Shit, you’ve been caught. 

“Are you sure?” Larissa raises a thin, perfectly plucked eyebrow, and your stomach does a backflip.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Biting your lip, you take a sip of wine to calm your nerves. “I’m not uncomfortable at all, I promise. It’s just weird being so casual with you - I mean, you are my boss, you know.” You giggle nervously and Larissa takes a large swig of her wine, nearly draining the glass in one go.

“I hope it becomes less weird for you, otherwise you’re free to leave at any time.” There’s a hint of hardness in Larissa’s voice, and you frown. 

“I’m actually really glad you invited me,” you try to reassure her quickly. “I think it’d be nice to get to know you, I’m just a bit awkward. It has nothing to do with you.” You offer her a shy smile - she seems to recognize its earnestness, and she smiles back, nodding in acknowledgment. 

Larissa seems to relax quite a bit after that - once the tension has subsided, conversation begins to flow freely (as does the alcohol). One of the things that had drawn you to Larissa in the first place was that you’d never worked with another shapeshifter before - even meeting other shapeshifters is rare. Your shared ability is a natural icebreaker - as you begin to talk about school and students and classes, you manage to open up to each other a bit about the struggles you’ve faced with your abilities. The conversation doesn’t stop there, and you delve into topics like media and art, books you’ve enjoyed (and ones you’ve detested) and music you have on repeat. 

Getting to know the woman behind the title of ‘principal’ only intensifies your feelings for her - with every new topic, you feel as though you’re peeling back another layer to who she is, revealing a softer Larissa, just as passionate but also weird and quirky and wonderful - just as wonderful as you’d imagined her to be, possibly more so, and you’re starting to realize this is more than just a mere crush.

As the evening wears on, a different kind of tension fills the room. With every minute, the distance between the two of you seems to get smaller and smaller - with every new topic, every new layer discovered, Larissa gets closer, until her knee is only a hair’s breadth from your own. You’re not sure if the heat flooding your body is from the fire, the alcohol, your own arousal, or maybe even Larissa’s body heat as a result of her close proximity - perhaps it’s a mixture of all 4, you think. 

Though it seems thinking has become a bit of a problem for you - how many glasses of wine have you had, you wonder, as Larissa pours you another one, each somehow fuller than the last. Glancing at the table, you realize the second bottle is half empty - right. She’d gotten a second bottle about an hour ago. 

Larissa seems to be faring no better than you - she’s a lot more giggly than you’ve ever seen her and, honestly, a lot more flirtatious. You may be more than a little tipsy but you’re certainly not hammered, and you’ve noticed her eyes traveling the length of your body more than once throughout the evening, often lingering near your cleavage for just a moment too long.

You’re telling a story about an annoying coworker from your previous job when Larissa sets down her wine glass, resting her elbow on her knee and propping her chin up with her hand, getting even closer to you in the process. She watches you with great interest, hanging onto your every word with her lips pulled up into an amused smile.

“I really hope your colleagues here aren’t nearly as incompetent,” she says with a chuckle, placing a hand on your thigh - you feel as though she may as well be burning a hole straight through your trousers. 

You find yourself giggling as you subtly shift closer to her. “Don’t worry, Riss.” The nickname slips out before you can stop yourself, but from the way Larissa’s lips part and her thumb begins to gently rub your inner thigh just above your kneecap, you don’t think she minds. “I think you were a lot more thorough during the hiring process than my old boss.”

“I definitely was.” Her voice drops an octave - heat pools in your core, and you feel your mouth go dry as Larissa’s gaze pierces your own, her eyelids hooded. You lick your lips, which suddenly feel dry as the Sahara.

“Tell me darling,” she husks. “Do I make you nervous?”

The sudden question does make you a little nervous - at a loss for words, you nod your head, and Larissa smirks in response. 

“I don’t mean to,” she coos, her hand remaining on your thigh as her other hand cups your cheek. Suddenly she’s right there, it would be so easy to just lean in and…

Larissa catches you staring at her lips and she parts them as she cocks her head - they look so soft and full, so incredibly inviting… 

You’re not sure who’s closed the gap, all you know is that your eyes have fluttered shut and that her lips feel even softer than they look. They’re warm, and they taste like lipstick and wine, and before you know it, you feel her tongue soothe over the seam of your lips as her fingers curl behind your ear. 

The groan that you let out when you part your lips and feel Larissa’s tongue slip inside of your mouth is so loud that you feel yourself blush. The blonde doesn’t seem to mind, however - she licks into your mouth with an eagerness with which you’ve never been kissed before, flicking her tongue sensually against your own. You feel her smile into the kiss as she deepens it, her hand sliding to the back of your head and holding it in place.

Placing your hands on her waist, you slowly lean back and pull Larissa with you, until you’re on your back and she’s on top of you, her body weight pressing you down into the upholstery. It sends a prickling wave of heat throughout your entire being, every nerve-ending in your body seemingly alight as your head swims. 

Your hands slide lower until you’re palming her ass - Larissa moans into your mouth, and the sound jolts you back to reality for a moment. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” you pant as you pull away to catch your breath, moving your hands back up to her waist, where they feel a bit safer. 

“I’m not.” Her boldness shocks you, and you meet her gaze only to see that her pupils are blown wide, filled with unfiltered desire. 

“You’re drunk…” You want it to sound firm yet gentle, and yet it comes out sounding more like a question.

“So are you,” she retorts, raising her eyebrow at you. Touché. “I want you.”

Any resolve you might’ve had had been torn down a few glasses of wine ago, and was now rapidly crumbling into dust. A whimper claws its way from your throat as Larissa’s hands find their way underneath your shirt, her palms warm and soft against your abdomen as she gently and ever so slowly pushes your shirt higher and higher, searching your face for consent. 

Fuck it. 

You help her make quick work of your shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it aside. She fumbles a bit with the button of your trousers, her fingers moving clumsily - you giggle, attributing it to her inebriated state, and help her to remove them, sliding your underwear right down with them. 

You’re left only in your bra, something Larissa seems intent on changing as her fingers trace along the straps. You sit up a bit, allowing her to reach around your back and find the band with her hands.

“Fuck,” she mumbles as she struggles to unclasp your bra - you’ve never heard her curse before, and the word fills you with heat. 

“Let me help,” you whisper breathily, reaching behind yourself and swiftly undoing the clasp of your bra, allowing it to fall away from your body to reveal your bare chest. There’s a sharp intake of breath and Larissa’s eyes darken as they fall to your breasts. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, her cheeks flushing to a beautiful, rosy hue. She leans down to kiss you and your hands find her waist again, holding her close. 

Larissa’s lips soon leave your own, only to trail sloppy, heated kisses along your jaw, down your neck, onto your sternum. She pauses there for a moment, her breath hot against your skin. She slowly pulls back, looking into your eyes with a hint of a question swimming in her pupils. “Is it okay if I…” Her demeanor is suddenly a bit shyer, more timid and hesitant as the forceful dominance from before slips away like sand.

“If you…?” you try to encourage her, but then you see her gaze lingering on your tits. You smirk, arching your back so that your chest is on full display for Larissa - she licks her lips involuntarily as her cheeks flush even further. “You can do whatever you want with me,” you husk, feeling your heart skip a beat when Larissa’s pupils dilate. 

She hesitates for only a moment longer, before leaning in again. Her breath ghosts over your nipple, goosebumps rising on the flesh around it as you feel yourself begin to tremble with anticipation. A soft whimper escapes your throat as Larissa’s lips close around the sensitive bud, her tongue flicking against it. 

A hum vibrates against your nipple, sending a shiver down your spine as Larissa begins to suck eagerly, her hands coming to rest on your hips to steady herself as she loses herself in you, making muffled noises of pleasure against your breast.

“Fuck, Larissa,” you groan, growing wetter by the second as you watch her get carried away, her eyes closed in bliss. At the sound of your voice, her eyes fly open - she looks up at you with doe eyes, her irises barely visible around her black pupils, yet so very bright and blue that you could drown in them. There’s something about her soft gaze, the gorgeous flush to her cheeks, the wispy blonde curl that’s come loose near her temple - she looks so eager and innocent, so submissive that it sends a flood of warmth to your cunt, and you can feel your arousal wet your thighs as you press them together.

You bring a hand to the back of her head, gently scratching her scalp in encouragement. “Good girl,” you whisper softly, watching for a reaction. And what a reaction you get - Larissa’s cheeks redden, her eyes falling shut as she moans against your breast. 

As she switches sides, you allow your head to fall back against the armrest of the sofa - you’re surprised to find your own reflection staring back at you in the mirrored ceiling, your cheeks flushed and your jaw slack. Your chest and the lower half of your face are littered in deep red lipstick marks, some shaped perfectly like Larissa’s lips, others smudged messily across your skin like strokes on a canvas. Larissa’s canvas. 

The back of her head bobbing against your chest in the mirror turns you on beyond belief, but it feels tragically unfair that her body remains hidden to you, her silhouette masked by her dress. You look down at her, her brow furrowed as her painted lips wrap around your nipple, leaving smudged red stains on your skin. Gently easing your fingers into her updo, you pull her back by the hair a little - only a slight tug, just enough to stop her ministrations and have her look up at you, her expression dazed. 

You smile softly, pushing yourself up a bit and reaching for the belt of Larissa’s dress. “May I?”

She nods and you raise your eyebrow. “Use your words.” 

“Y-you may.” The words come out breathy as warmth floods Larissa’s cheeks, and she sits back to allow you to peel her dress from her body. One by one you remove her clothing, until every inch of her skin is bare before you. 

“Jesus, Larissa, you look like you’ve been sculpted by the Gods…” You’re in awe of her body; the womanly curve of her hips, the tantalizing swell of her breasts, the soft curve of her stomach, those long, long legs. Her cheeks and chest turn red at your compliment and her smile is almost timid as she places one hand on her stomach, the other over her chest. 

You take her hands in your own, uncovering her body and interlacing your fingers with hers, stretching up to kiss her. She melts into the kiss, a soft moan escaping her lips, and you take the opportunity to place your hands on her waist, pushing yourself onto your knees and switching places with Larissa, guiding her onto her back.

She watches you intently, lips parted to let out shaky breaths. Her lipstick is smudged around her mouth and up to her nose - it’s adorable, and it makes you want to kiss her senseless to mess it up even more, so you do. Larissa begins to let out soft noises of pleasure into your mouth as your tongues meet, and she protests when you pull away - she’s so needy that it makes you melt. 

“Can you do something for me?”

Larissa’s brows furrow as her chest heaves, her breathing short and heavy. She nods.

“I want you to watch yourself as I fuck you.” A confused stare is all you receive in return and you chuckle. “Look up, Riss.”

Her eyes leave your own as she tilts her head back and glances at the ceiling - a soft “oh” escapes her lips, and you can see her chest redden. With a satisfied smirk, you begin to place soft kisses to her chest, trailing your lips down her stomach as your hands busy themselves fondling her breasts. She seems to be sensitive there if her stuttering breath is anything to go by, and you’re pleased to pull a gasp out of her as you roll her nipples between your fingers, working the little buds into hard peaks. 

Your lips travel over the little patch of curls at her mound, then even lower. The scent of her arousal fills your nostrils and your mouth begins to water - your hands leave Larissa’s breasts to hook her leg over your shoulder and spread her thighs wider. She squirms a bit as your warm breath ghosts over her sex - you glance up to see her looking obediently up at the ceiling, biting her lip, her hands resting on her belly. 

“You can tell me to stop any time,” you remind her gently. 

“Don’t stop,” she whispers after a moment’s silence - your heart flutters.

“Be a good girl and play with your tits for me,” you say, your tone commanding. Her breath hitches and she hesitates for a moment, before fondling her own breasts, a breathy whimper leaving her lips as she tugs at her nipples.

Flattening your tongue, you lick a path up her slit - the moment your tongue makes contact with her cunt, Larissa’s hips buck into your mouth, twitching of their own accord. You take your time exploring her folds, even using your fingers to part her labia so that your tongue can indulge itself in every inch of her pussy. You alternate between teasing her entrance with the tip of your tongue and sucking her labia, getting even more drunk off the way her thighs tremble against your head and the way she rolls her hips, letting out frustrated whines as her clit is neglected. 

Finally, you lick your way up to the little bundle of nerves, wrapping your lips around it - the second you do so, Larissa cries out in relief and pleasure, her hips twitching. She begins to grind desperately against your mouth, every gentle suck seeming to send her into orbit as she finally gets the stimulation she’s been craving.

You glance up, arousal pooling in your core as you see the way Larissa’s fondling her breasts, her back arching and her head tilted back as she rubs her nipples. You flick your tongue against her clit and her mouth drops open, a steady stream of “ah, ah, ah’s” spilling out of her as the grinding of her hips becomes more erratic.

Her moans are cut off for a moment as your finger teases her slit, finding her entrance and pushing in with ease due to just how wet she is. She’s tight and her walls clench around your finger - you moan against her clit, a shiver of lust going down your spine as you slowly curl your finger into her sweet spot. 

“Think you can take another?” you husk, waiting for Larissa’s breathy “mmpf… y-yes” before pushing a second finger inside of her to join the first and slowly pumping them in and out. “Good girl…” Your mouth returns to her clit, lapping up her juices and smearing them around the sensitive nub.

You’re completely lost in pleasure, drunk not only on wine but on the taste, the scent, the feeling of Larissa on your tongue, against your fingers, consuming your every sense. Your eyes are closed in bliss as you work her to the edge - so you can’t help but jump a bit in surprise as you feel a pressure on your scalp. 

Opening your eyes, you find that Larissa’s hands have left her breasts in favor of cupping your head, her fingers weaving themselves tightly into your tresses. She pushes on your head, using you as leverage as she rolls her hips against your face - she’s so lost in the moment that she doesn’t seem to realize she’s doing it, and it drives you wild. 

A few more flicks of your tongue against her clit are all Larissa needs to come undone - her moans are like music to your ears as she finds her release, her fingers tugging at your hair with a white-knuckled grip as her thighs snap shut around your head. You fuck her through her orgasm, not relenting a bit - you’re rewarded when she cums a second time shortly after, and this time you slowly pull your fingers out of her to hungrily lap up the juices that are leaking out of her.

Gently pushing her leg off your shoulder, you crawl up her body, eager to have her taste herself on your tongue. As you’re hovering over her, you can’t help but blurt out “you’re gorgeous” - because she really is, lying there panting, her chest pink and heaving, a thin sheen of sweat coating her body and collecting at her brow. A breathy giggle escapes her lips at your words, and her eyes are glazed over as she meets your gaze. You lean down to capture her lips in a kiss - Larissa instantly opens her mouth and flicks her tongue against yours, a whimper clawing its way out of her throat at the taste of her own arousal.

“You taste so fucking good,” you mumble into the kiss - Larissa whimpers again and deepens the kiss further, placing a hand on the back of your head and weaving her fingers into your hair to hold you in place.

The gentle tug of your hair makes a fresh wave of arousal pool between your thighs, and you find yourself searching for friction against your aching clit. Pressing against Larissa’s thigh, you tilt your hips - the relief you feel as your clit makes contact with Larissa’s skin is overwhelming, as is the desire to rut against her and use her to reach your peak. So you do.

Your slick drips onto Larissa’s thigh as you grind against it, your eyes rolling back in your head and your kisses turning sloppy as you chase your high. With the taste of Larissa still fresh on your tongue, it takes you almost no time at all to cum - the principal swallows your cries as you tumble over the edge, then, as you allow yourself to sink into her, she wraps her arms around your body and holds you tightly against her.

You’re a little annoyed by the fact that your stamina seems to be impacted by the alcohol - a part of you is desperate to go another round, but you seem to have worn yourself out as exhaustion tugs at your limbs and a drunken, post-orgasmic haze clouds your mind.

Still, you’re desperate to take care of Larissa after she was so good for you. You lift your head and rest your chin on her chest, looking up at her with a soft, adoring smile. She looks down as you move your head and blushes as she sees you smiling up at her - her rosy cheeks are a sight to behold, and you suddenly find yourself getting a bit nervous again. 

“Is it alright if I clean you up a bit?” you whisper softly, your voice a little raspier than usual - you can’t tell if it’s that or your request that causes Larissa’s blush to grow.

“You would do that?” She sounds shy, and it makes you wonder if her past lovers had never afforded her with aftercare - assholes, you think.

“Of course I would.” You push yourself up off the sofa, a bit unsteady on your feet at first - you stumble a bit, then you giggle. “Shit. Where’s your bathroom?” 

Larissa giggles too and points to a door at the back of her office. “Straight down the hall.” 

You feel a bit like you’re floating - you’d like to attribute it to the way it felt to have Larissa look at you with such unadulterated desire in her eyes (you’ve never been looked at in quite that way, and certainly not by anyone as perfect as her) - but it’s probably more so a combination of the wine and the orgasm. Finding the bathroom with ease, you rummage around in search of washcloths, then proceed to wet them in the sink - you’re so focused on your task that you hardly notice Larissa come in, until her naked body is pressed against your back, nipples poking at your skin and sending a delicious shiver down your spine. You look up and meet her gaze in the mirror as her hands find a home on your hips - she smiles and blushes, ducking her head to press a tender kiss to the junction where your shoulder and your neck meet. 

It takes all your strength to keep yourself upright - your legs feel like jello and your knees threaten to give out. Focusing on the task at hand, you spin around in Larissa’s arms and maintain eye contact as you sink down in front of her, the scent of her arousal, her sweat, lingering notes of perfume all making you even dizzier than you already are as you gently clean up the insides of her thighs, her pussy. 

You stand, using another washcloth to quickly clean yourself up and discarding both on the counter, before pushing yourself onto your toes to give Larissa a kiss. 

“I should probably get going,” you murmur sheepishly against her lips - immediately feeling her pout. It makes you grin, and you pull back a bit. “If you want me to stay, you just have to say so, you know?”

Larissa’s cheeks are blazing red, and she stutters a bit - it makes your heart melt. “I-I certainly wouldn’t want to keep you here against your will…”

You laugh, reaching out for her hand and intertwining your fingers with her own. “I’d lead you to your bed now if I had any clue where it was.”

Shooting you a grateful smile, Larissa takes the lead. The moment you’ve climbed into bed, you feel an inescapable sleepiness settle into your bones. You dimly register the bed dip beside you as Larissa crawls in, and then she hastily pulls the pins from her hair and drops them on her nightstand. Her arm tugs at your waist, a sleepy hum vibrating from her chest. She must’ve used her other arm to flick off the lamp on the bedside table as the room is bathed in darkness - then you’re out.

~~~

You’re woken by a harsh light falling into your eyes - you groan and turn your face into the pillow to block it out, your head throbbing at the sudden movement. Shit, you really overdid it last night… 

As the memory of the previous evening hits you, your stomach fills with butterflies all over again - the way Larissa’s hand had felt on your thigh, the way her lips had felt against your nipples, the way she’d pulled you close as you’d fallen asleep… your heart drops and you lift your head, your eyes taking a minute to focus as they fall onto the woman sleeping next to you.

Her lips are parted to let out heavy breaths, her hair sticking to the side of her face as a puddle of drool forms on her pillow. Her eyelids move as she dreams but she looks content. In spite of the drool and the messiness of her curls, you’ve never seen someone look so beautiful sleeping - your heart skips a beat as you realize this isn’t a dream, you’re actually in Larissa’s bed.

The urge to sneak out and run overcomes you for a moment - you don’t know how Larissa will react upon seeing you, if last night would have taken the same course without the alcohol. But you’re no coward, and leaving her alone feels like a shitty move - best to face the consequences of your actions head-on.

Tentatively, you reach out and brush your fingers against her cheekbone, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear - her nose twitches and her eyelashes flutter a bit. The touch seems to rouse her - it takes a moment, but she eventually opens her eyes, looking a bit disoriented and squinting against the brightness of the room.

“Good morning,” you whisper softly, unable to disguise the nervous edge to your voice. 

You can tell Larissa is thinking - hard. Her brows furrow the slightest bit and her eyes dart between your own as she lifts her head off the pillow. She glances down the length of the bed - the two of you are close, the sheets a tangled mess, barely covering your still-naked bodies. She takes a long time to respond, so long that you’re beginning to worry, and you find yourself breaking the silence.

“Do you regret it?” you murmur - your stomach is in knots at the idea that Larissa only decided to seduce you because she was drunk, perhaps even too drunk to properly consent - you find yourself swallowing down a bit of bile at the mere thought. Time seems to slow as you watch her lips part, and you find yourself having to concentrate to catch her whispered response.

“No,” she confesses, her cheeks dusted pink as she glances away from you, unable to meet your gaze. “Do you?”

Your heart skips a beat and you can’t help the way your lips are pulling up into a smile. “No.”

Larissa’s gaze snaps to yours, as if your answer has caught her off-guard. Then she smiles shyly, taking a shaky breath. “Although I must apologize for drinking so much… it wasn’t my intention, nor was it my intention to seduce you when I invited you to share the evening with me.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure her. “If I hadn’t been drunk I probably wouldn’t have been able to go through with it…”

“Nor would I…” A faint smirk crosses Larissa’s face. “Is this the right time to admit that I like you?”

You feel your face flush - you can hardly believe your ears. Larissa actually likes you? “I like you, too,” you whisper hoarsely. “I like you a lot.”

Larissa smiles, one of those smiles that make her nose scrunch and her eyes crinkle at the corners - then she hesitates for a moment, her expression falling. “Darling?”

The pet name hits different when you’re in bed with her, though her expression makes you pause. “Yeah?”

“That was the first time I’ve ever actually… had sex with someone.” Her gaze drops to the bed as she speaks. “I don’t think it’s fair for you not to know that.”

At first, her confession shocks you - she’s the most beautiful, sensual woman you’ve ever met, there’s no way she’s never had sex before. But, as you think over your interactions the previous evening, it starts to make sense. Her sudden shift in demeanor, her hesitance after initially seducing you. You cup her cheek, urging her to look at you - her sapphire eyes are swimming with worry.

“Thank you for telling me,” you whisper. “Can I, um, ask why? Were you saving yourself for marriage or something?”

Larissa snorts. “Nothing like that…” She takes a deep breath, pausing for a moment to think. “I didn’t accept that I liked women until much later in life, I didn’t realize why the thought of being with a man put me off so much. I didn’t want to realize it. And by then I had started my career and it became increasingly harder to find the time to date, and to open myself up to people.”

“You didn’t have trouble opening yourself up to me last night,” you point out with a smirk.

“I wanted to take a chance…” Her eyes dance between your own - her vulnerability is enough to make you melt.

“Did it pay off?”

“Yes.”

You pause for a moment. “Well… then I guess I’m sorry that your first time had to be when we were drunk,” you finally whisper shyly.

“I enjoyed myself either way,” she whispers back. “Perhaps we could try again sober?”

Her wry smile makes you laugh, and you lean in to kiss her. You can feel her arm wind its way around your waist and you eagerly scoot closer, threading your fingers through her soft curls as you deepen the kiss.

Larissa moans into your mouth, her hands sliding down to cup your ass - you can feel yourself grow wet as she palms and squeezes the soft flesh, and you tug gently at her hair, exposing her neck as you kiss your way along her jaw and towards her pulse point. You feel her pulse hammering away underneath your tongue as you suck a bruise into her pale skin, drawing a whimper from her throat. 

“Is this okay?” you whisper. Larissa nods eagerly, and you pull away. “Words, Larissa… you need to tell me what you want.”

Her eyes widen and her face flushes as she stutters out an apology and says “yes, it’s okay.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” you mumble as your lips trail down her neck and find her collarbone - Larissa whimpers and tilts her head back, her lips parting to let out shallow breaths. You shift your leg against her, your thigh slipping between hers - her slick immediately coats your skin and draws a groan from your chest. “Fuck, you’re so wet…”

The breathy, strangled moan Larissa gives you in response has you wishing you could pound her into the mattress, and you’re not sure where the sudden courage has come from but you find yourself asking if she owns a strap. Her pupils dilate instantly but she bites her lip and shakes her head. You can’t help the way disappointment briefly swells in your chest - until an idea has you blushing profusely. 

“W-what’s wrong?” Larissa asks breathlessly, her brows knitting together in worry at the look on your face. 

“I, um… I just had a thought, but it’s silly…”

“What is it?”

With a deep breath, you steel yourself for rejection. “M-maybe, if you wanted, since we don’t have a strap, I could shift… you know, that part of myself?” The urge to bury your head in the crook of her neck is stronger than ever but you’re glad you don’t as Larissa’s expression ignites a fire in your core. Her cheeks flush and her mouth hangs open, and she subconsciously tugs you closer from where her hands are still resting on your ass.

“I think I’d like to try that,” she whispers.

You nod, feeling a bit dazed as you wonder if this is all some sort of fever dream. After a moment, your cock grows against Larissa’s thigh - you watch her face intently and see her swallow visibly, pale lashes fluttering against her cheekbones. 

“Say the word and I’ll stop or shift back, no questions asked,” you whisper hoarsely. 

Larissa nods, her arousal plain as day in her expression. “P-please…”

Cupping her cheek, you pull her in for a searing kiss, which she quickly deepens as she licks into your mouth and flicks her tongue against yours. Flipping her onto her back, you hover over her, your cock brushing against her folds and making you both moan at the same time.

You prop yourself up above her, breaking the kiss for a moment as you grasp your cock and guide it up her slit, watching Larissa’s face as her breathing stutters. Her hands fly to your waist as you tease her entrance with the tip, a soft whimper escaping her lips.

As you slowly begin to sink into her, you hear a sharp intake of breath. Your eyes snap to her face and you notice she’s holding her breath, so you pause to take her hands in your own and intertwine your fingers with hers. “Breathe... I won’t move again until you do.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Larissa takes a deep breath, then another - you continue to sink into her as slowly and carefully as you can, and she squeezes your hands as her brow furrows a bit. You stay perfectly still once you’re fully sheathed inside of her, giving her as much time as she needs to adjust before moving.

“Fuck, Larissa,” you breathe out with a chuckle. Her gaze is equal parts questioning and shy, and you smile down at her. “F-feels really good… just tell me when to move…”

Larissa nods, resting her hands on your hips and rubbing her thumbs over your hip bones as her gaze wanders down your body. 

“Are you okay?” you ask softly. 

“I am,” she whispers hoarsely. “Just feeling a bit out of my depth…”

“You don’t have anything to worry about. I got you.”

A grateful smile tugs at the corners of Larissa’s lips and she wiggles her hips a bit - your eyes flutter shut as a wave of pleasure washes over you, your lips parting to let out a soft moan.

“Y-you can move,” Larissa encourages, pressing her hips up a bit. With her consent, you start to thrust, pulling out almost all the way before bottoming out, your pelvis resting against hers. Larissa’s mouth falls open as her eyes fall shut, her grip on your hips tightening. For a moment you’re worried that she’s in pain but then, with the next slow thrust, a loud moan tears from her throat and her lips curl into a blissful smile. 

“Is it okay like this?” you ask through gritted teeth, your body prickling with heat at the feeling of her walls squeezing your cock.

“Y-yes… you can go f-faster if you’d like…”

You increase the pace of your thrusts, Larissa’s hands helping to guide your hips as they roll against her. The perks of being a shapeshifter, you think as your mind grows slightly fuzzy - being able to feel Larissa squeeze your dick as you move inside of her feels like absolute heaven, a feeling you wouldn’t know with a strap alone. Your eyes can’t seem to decide what they want to focus on - Larissa’s face scrunching in pleasure, her tits bouncing with every movement, the sight of your cock disappearing inside of her.

Leaning down over her, you bury your hands in Larissa’s soft curls as your lips meet hers - her breath is hot and uneven against your mouth and she whimpers as your tongue dances with her own.

You can feel yourself getting closer to the edge with every thrust, Larissa’s body pressing against your own turns you on beyond belief, but you know she isn’t quite there yet. One of your hands leaves her hair and trails down her body to her clit. Larissa arches her back into your touch, her breath growing shallower and her kiss turning sloppy as you begin to rub her clit, smearing her arousal over the sensitive bud.

“Mmh… ssso good,” Larissa whimpers as her hands fly to your hair and push your head down - getting the hint, you trail kisses down the valley between her breasts, before taking her right nipple between your lips and sucking eagerly. The combination of stimuli have Larissa’s orgasm rapidly approaching, her walls fluttering around your cock as her thighs begin to tremble.

“Bend - mmh, fuck - bend your legs m-more,” you mumble - as Larissa follows your instructions and draws her knees closer to her chest, her eyes roll back in her head and she lets out a broken moan as you’re able to thrust even deeper inside of her. Every thrust jolts her entire body and tears deep, broken moans from her chest. 

“Good girl,” you purr as you latch onto her left nipple, recalling the way she’d reacted to your praise the previous night - it seems to send her over the edge this time as she cums around your cock, her moans dying in her throat as her face contorts in pleasure.

Her orgasm causes your own to crash over you like a wave - you cum deep inside of her, your hips stuttering and your fingers breaking their steady rhythm on her clit. As Larissa’s orgasm begins to fade, her hands gently tug at your hair and pull you up for a heated kiss. Her lips feel like heaven, the euphoria from your orgasm makes you feel like you’re floating as you slow your thrusts.

“S-sensitive,” Larissa murmurs as her hands drift from your head to your hips, gripping tightly to still your movements - you stop thrusting and pull back slightly to meet her gaze. Her face is flushed and her pupils still blown wide, though her brows are slightly furrowed.

You reach up to cup her cheek, gently stroking your thumb across her cheekbone - she smiles softly, nuzzling her cheek against your hand. “Is it okay if I pull out and shift back?”

At Larissa’s nod, you move your hips - a soft groan tumbles from her lips as your cock slips out of her. Within seconds you’ve shifted back, lowering yourself carefully onto Larissa and pressing a kiss to her lips. You feel her smirk into the kiss - it makes every nerve-ending in your body tingle.

She rolls you onto your side without breaking the kiss, then pushes you onto your back and leans over you, her nipples pressing against your own. The friction makes you gasp and you feel yourself grow wet as a rush of arousal pools in your core.

Larissa’s lips leave your own to travel along your jaw and down the center of your throat. You arch your back into the touch as each press of soft, plush lips leaves your skin burning. As she settles between your legs, her lips alternate between each thigh, getting closer and closer to where you need them with every kiss. “Is this okay?” she asks hesitantly, her warmth breath ghosting over your clit and pulling a whimper from your throat.

Looking between your thighs, you’re met with wide blue eyes gazing questioningly up at you, her pupils blown and her cheeks flushed. You nod frantically, only to see her lips curl up into a smirk.

“I need words, darling,” Larissa purrs, using your own words against you - you can’t help but let out a breathy laugh, allowing your head to fall back against the pillows for a moment. 

“Sorry,” you giggle, peering down at her with a sheepish smile. “Y-yeah, it’s okay.”

A faint blush adorns Larissa’s cheeks as she places her hands on your inner thighs, gently pushing them apart and spreading you open in the process. She sucks in a breath as her eyes drop to your glistening cunt - after a moment’s hesitation, she leans in and runs her tongue up your slit, her accompanying moan vibrating against your pussy and sending a wave of pleasure through your entire body. 

You prop yourself up on your elbows, your eyes glued to her as her head bobs between your legs, her eyes shut as her tongue explores every inch of your cunt, running through your folds and teasing your entrance. Every little hum and whimper of pleasure that escapes her lips makes you wetter, and you find yourself spreading your legs as wide as you can and rolling your hips against her face, desperate for attention to your aching clit.

She seems to enjoy teasing you - you can almost feel her smile against your pussy as she eats you out, her tongue getting close to your clit but never fully touching it. It takes a whimpered “please, Larissa” for her to finally circle the throbbing bud with her tongue - the feeling makes your toes curl and you fall back against the pillows, a deep moan drawn from your chest. 

Larissa’s lips close around your clit, sucking gently at first, then harder as you buck your hips against her. She gets bolder as time goes on, curling her arms around your thighs and tugging you even closer as she slowly builds you to an orgasm. The little noises she’s making combined with the obscenely wet sound of your slick mixed with Larissa’s saliva only serve to turn you on further - a few licks later you’re tumbling over the edge, your eyes rolling back in your head and your back arching off the bed as your hips stutter against her face and your clit pulses against her tongue.

As you slowly come back down to earth, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath, Larissa crawls up your body, planting soft, wet kisses up your stomach and chest before hovering over you and capturing your lips in a deep kiss. You eagerly suck your juices off her tongue, humming in delight even as your cheeks turn pink.

Larissa’s blush matches your own as she pulls back, her eyes sparkling as they dart between your own. “Was that okay?” 

“That was perfect.” Your grin is practically giddy as you cup her cheek, your fingers curling behind her ear as you draw her in for another, longer kiss. Your hands come to rest on her waist, gently urging her onto her side as you kiss until both of you have run out of air. When you pull back and open your eyes, her warm breath hits your face and she’s smiling peacefully. A lock of platinum blonde hair is stuck to her temple and you reach up to brush your hand through her hair, pushing it back - her smile grows and she lets out a contented hum.

“To think yesterday you couldn’t even call me by my first name,” Larissa whispers playfully - her voice still has a bit of a husky quality to it that makes your stomach flip. As her words sink in you find yourself blushing like mad - you wish the statement weren’t as true as it is, but somehow in the span of one night everything has changed, and you can’t say you’re complaining.

“I can still call you Principal Weems in bed if you want,” you joke, your heart hammering in your chest.

“Oh? Is that what you’re into?” Larissa teases with a laugh, though her own cheeks are growing warmer by the second.

“I’ll try anything once.”

Larissa’s laugh catches in her throat and her pupils dilate - you take the opportunity to steal a kiss, one which catches her off guard at first but is quickly and happily returned.

“So you’d want to continue this?” she asks breathlessly against your lips.

You nod, swallowing nervously. “I’ve wanted you in this way and every other way for so long, Larissa. I’d love nothing more, if that’s something you’d also like.” Your eyes search hers for a hint of uncertainty, apprehension, disappointment - instead, you’re met with softness and affection as Larissa’s lips curl up at the corners.

“Then it appears we’re on the same page.” 

“It appears we are…”

x

taglist: @alexusonfire @brienneswife @pro-weems-places @bigolgay @kimiinou @imprincipalweemspet @h-doodles @bychrissi @katie-bennet @giogwensversion @gela123 @friskyfisher @justcallmelittleone @michi2504 @scream-queenlover @a-queen-and-her-throne @sequoirius @anne-lister @winterfireblond @imgayforwoman69  @Ssappling2004 @fictionalized-lesbian @i-like-reading @aemilia19 @milfsloverblog @missdowling @billiedeansbitch @The_Demon_of_your_Dream @agathaandgwenslesbian @http-sam @Cute-catx @saltrage @renravens @opheliauniverse @zillahofviolets-bayolet @scarlettssub @catechristiestuff @niceminipotato @barbarasstar @women-are-so-ethereal @thevillagegay @willowshadenox @lilfartbox1 @larissaoftarthweems @dovesintherain @fallenbutch @lunala-rose23 @ahauandthesun @thenazwife @m-0-mmy-l-0-ver33 @thesamesweetie @theonefairygodmother @lvinhs @rainbow-hedgehog @sweetderacine @daydream-cement @catechristiesstuff @im-a-carnivorous-plant @milfomaniac @sapphos-ode @mrs.prentiss @ilovetlcc @toutoubum @lesbiahonest24 @wastdstime @gwens0girl @larissa-weems-chokehold @ladylarissaweems @makemyworldworthliving @spacetoaim22 @m1lflov3rrr @nightingalespen

[janus-cadet]

Hey!! It's been quite a while since I posted anything, here. To be honest, work is very time-consuming. But! Here I am, with a tarot card- last one being Maestro's, that I've done at least three months ago!

This time, place for some Timerogue, as the Six of Cups.

Explanation, as always, under the cut!

The Six of Cups -Upright- is a card encouraging you to think about the past, especially thee good memories. Think about the fun, the happiness, instead of the sorrow and the grief; it will allow you to nurture the relationship you still have in your life, or push you to create new ones, on new level of harmony. Connect with your inner child, and experience the fun that come with it: you need to allow yourself to be playful, spontaneous nd creative. You see and handsome stranger at a Bridgerton party? Perfect! Go talk, go flirt, get briefly abducted, have fun! You are now more open, more willing to give the other the benefice of the doubt (Bounty Hunter, yes, but he's hot, so... and yes, alien shapeshifter, but also hot, so...). It's time for you to turn over a page, and start afresh from a more positive place. (Get therapied, 14th!).

Upright, it's a card for healing, a card looking forward with joy: fitting for 15th's promise and attitude.

Reversed, hovewer, could apply to both of them- including the Doctor, who's not as alright as he would like to let us believe. When the Reversed Six of Cups appears in a reading, you might be clinging to the past and losing touch with the present. Leaving on an empty ship meant for two, for more, even, all by yourself; keeping all the memories of what used to be, and closing yourself up around it. It's alright to indulge in a little reminiscing about the past, as long as you understand that it's over. You need to make peace with the past, so you can focus on the now: stop brooding all by yourself, and try to connect with this very charming stranger, maybe. Allow yourself to enjoy life again, to have fun, to breath. It's okay. They would not hate you, for it.

You may also have lost touch with your inner child, closed yourself up to anything and everyone, because you're taking too much of a responsability, or leaving with an heaviness you do not share. You want to keep your emotions quiet, shielded away from others, in fear of their judgement. You don't need to: your friends are here for you.

If you have some.

Sorry, Rogue.

And that's it for today! I'm starting to have a lot of Doctor Who related card, uh- definitely more to come.

I hope you enjoyed it, and see you next time, hopefully! Here are some of the other cards I did- minus the three Masters, because of the post picture-limit.

[shapeshiftersvt]

Well!

This sucks.

In 2016, Shapeshifters was two and a half years old when the country we operate in seemed to elect one particular asshole. Today, this company is ten and a half years old, and the same damn asshole is back again.

Under that first term Shapeshifters went from a two-person, back-of-the-dining-room operation to a production floor in a converted warehouse to the beautiful studio we're in now. We sent chest binders in anonymized packaging all over the country and the world for those four years. We hired trans people in our town and purchased services from queer folks in our network. We left behind the landlord who objected to our Black Lives Matter banner and hired models for photoshoots who knew what we were about and were excited to join the work.

Then we took a damn breath. We found stability in our little studio, over the last four years. We experimented with prints and patterns and fashion lines. We worked on new projects with new people.

It sucks that we're back here again.

And: our job now, as always, is to connect you with what you need and connect each other with what we all do.

There's a lot of good advice out there about keeping yourself as safe and healthy and stable as possible, from a lot of activists and poets and people much better at it than me. I speak from my position as a business owner from a family of economists, who's been trained to watch the money. Buy queer when you can, buy local when you can. Keep the money close, trade the same $20 back and forth with your friends for services, re-use and repair what you have.

Buy a binder, or a sew-your-own-binder kit, ora sports bra, or a binding dress, or some cryptid art from us here:

Find a queer-owned business for what you need at Everywhere is Queer:

And also from Hey Famm:

If you are located in or near Western Massachusetts, find some queer folks to support via Bloom Local:

and if you have a few bucks a month to spare, maybe support a trans person on Patreon. I suggest friend of the shop @neolithicsheep :

and Mercury Stardust, the Trans Handy Ma'am, who is a great resource when you need to fix something yourself:

Spend your money for good whenever you have the chance. It matters.

And you matter, too.

Keep talking to us, keep talking to each other, keep in touch with your people. Keep building these systems and these structures and these networks. We're going to need all of them.

And, hey: if you're trans and starting a business, reach out. I'd love to help folks in the early stages, connect you to resources, pull you over some of the hurdles we faced. There's a lot more room for queer business owners now than there was eight years ago. Let's take up that space.

Keep building, fam. It matters and it's worth doing. Every time.

[giuseppe-yuki]

I just had a stupid thought, just imagine somwone maybe new at Mercedes was bitching at kimi and hia huge tiger girlfriend sitting behind them just waiting for them to finsih and everyone around them snickering

no thought is a stupid thought! i love to receive asks from readers :)

lord help the soul who thinks he’s “better” than kimi just because he’s older and has more “experience” in the field of racing.

kimi antonelli x tiger shapeshifter!gf

kimi nods, trying to be be polite as the man in front of him elaborates on his skill and practice on the sim brig.

“…since i was literally a baby,” the engineer points out, exaggeratedly gesturing with his arms. “that’s why i know for a fact that you should not be turning like that on turn 4- you should take the outside line.”

scrunching his eyebrows in confusion, kimi blinks at the man in confusedly. “um…okay.”

your boyfriend swivels around on his chair in the garage, trying to end the conversation. however, being too polite to just walk away, he has no choice but to sit there, enduring the ‘words of wisdom’ from this newly hired engineer that everybody knew gave out the most bullshit advice. several long-term engineers shoot him looks of pity at their desks after seeing him trapped in the impractical conversation.

that’s why he brightens up like the sun peeking out behind a cloud when you flounce into the garage in the following moments, pressing a kiss onto his cheek when you reach him.

“hi kimi,” you giggle, ruffling his curls with your hand. “working hard?”

he smiles at you, nodding. “yep! i’m designing mercedes’ next championship winning car,” he jokes.

you laugh, before a voice behind you speaks up. “do you mind? i was just giving him tips on how to drive better out there. it’s simple, really.”

whipping around, you come face to face with a rather young looking lad, who you suppose to be the infamous new-hire that everyone despises.

“oh, sorry,” you say, not feeling sorry at all. ���did i cut you off from your conversation with kimi?”

“yeah,” the engineer says, with an air of confidence around him. “i was informing him on the many things he should do better on next time on track. i’ll have you know i have years of experience.”

the gall of this man, you think. that’s no way to talk to my boyfriend.

and when you thought the engineer could be even more repulsive, he opens his mouth yet again.

“by the way, i don’t know how you even got in the garage, but fans are supposed to stay in the paddock,” he sniffs, as if repulsed by the thought of a random kimi enthusiast in the mercedes garage.

even the nearby merc employees raise an eyebrow to the overly-cocky engineer’s comment. it was pretty much common knowledge of your position as kimi’s girlfriend in the paddock, showing up to nearly every event to support him. besides, you literally just gave your boyfriend a kiss on the cheek- a fan couldn’t have possibly done that.

your boyfriend jumps off of his seat, ready to defend you.

“hey! this is my-“ he begins, but you cut him off, squeezing his arm gently.

“really?” you gasp, eyes wide with faux surprise. “i am so sorry! i just wanted a signature from kimi- i had no idea!”

giving you a look of disgust, the engineer gestures behind him towards the exit. “yeah, yeah, dumb mistake, whatever,- just go that way, and make sure to read the signs next time.”

ignoring kimi’s look of surprise and the snickers of knowing engineers, you take your leave from the garage. behind you, you hear the engineer snort. “eugh, fans these days…always so overeager to meet their idols, am i right?”

yeah, someone should really stop you before you bit his head off.

you pad back into the garage several minutes later, in your tiger form. you had to teach this stupid guy a lesson. gingerly stepping around tires and spare parts, you weave your way through groups of merc employees and engineers. of course, being used to your presence, they give you a few pets on your head.

you hear the engineer’s voice before you see him.

“i also want to say, your tyre management is- how do i put this nicely- horrible.”

turning the corner, you spot a miserable looking kimi picking at his fingernails as he half-listens to the arrogant man in front of him.

at the sight of your aggressive figure- a total 180 from your usual shyer demeanor, the employees surveying the scene start to quietly snicker again.

hearing the laughs, the engineers mistakenly believes that they are laughing with him instead of at him.

“see, even they agree with me,” he chuckles at kimi. “you really should be working on managing your tires on track.”

unable to take it anymore, you sprint towards kimi, purposely nudging the engineer’s chair, knocking it off balance by a little. you nudge your large head underneath kimi’s hand, demanding pets.

the egotistic engineer yelps, almost falling off the tall stool. somehow being the only one not having seen kimi’s ’pet tiger’ before, he stutters out, “a-a-a- tiger!” before fleeing to the opposite of the garage.

you growl at him, purposely flashing your sharp canines at him. it makes you feel smug when he shrinks back even more, cowering behind a spare tire.

kimi rolls his eyes at the man’s extreme reaction. “maybe,” he says pointedly to the engineer while stroking your fur, “instead of you giving me pointers on how to do my literal job, i should be giving you pointers how to control your emotions. like, what are you so scared of? it’s just a tiger!”

when you roar again at the engineer to emphasize kimi’s point, you are pretty sure the engineer nearly pees himself.

[saphirafoxgirlspost1]

(Open Rp) The Monkey King: Reborn in "The Sakutopian Fox Princess and The Monkey King"

On the Glorious Morning, The Princess Of Sakutopia, Japan Name "Princess Saphira Lorraina Fox" Who was On the Journey To meet the Oracle At the Temple In the Mighty Forest Mountains.. She Ride Her Mighty Kirin Name "Yuki" The leader and the King of the Herds on the Path to seek The Oracle, The reason Why she was Seeking the Oracle Is because She kept Rejecting alot of Suitors back In Sakutopia, Japan. One By one, Many Suitors are rejected by the princess because their hearts are nothing but greed and Dishonoring, and their Minds Are Power Obsessive and Abusive as well, Mostly they wanted the Throne and treat Saphira Like a "simple house wife, maid, servant, or Much worse of them all.. A Slave", Then her Father Decided to Send Saphira to Seek the Oracle At the Zhen Yuan Temple to tell her Whats Her Future Husband Will be soon and what Future Holds as well. When She made it to the Zhen yuans temple, the two Guardian Deities Came and saw Saphira wearing a beautiful Royal kimono and the beautiful Celestial Fox mask and She said,

Saphira:" Greetings, I am Princess Saphira Lorraina Fox Of Sakutopia and I am Here to seek the Oracle."

Deity 1: "And you've come to stay For the Night as well after Seeking the Oracle?"

Saphira:" Why yes, I must Know what Future holds, you see i was sent From m-"

The Second Deity cut off,

Deity 2:" Your Father, we know. The Master Is Fully aware that your here as well, Your More welcome to Stay and we have a Feeling that Master Tang and Those 3 deity will be arriving as well."

Saphira: "Oh? and who are they?"

Deity 1: " We'll Deal with it, So don't worry about it. Please Follow us."

As Saphira Follows the two Deity as they Guided her to the Nice Luxurious Guest room and She loves it very much and then She thanked them very much as she bows ..and then the two Deity sense that they have arrived, as one of them told her that She can feel free to explore until The Oracle finally arrives in the Form of the elderly Woman, She told Saphira That She is in Terrible Danger and that She will be Cursed By a Demon King Name "Yuandi" the First demon Who will put Saphira Into an Eternal Sleep But She will be Awaken by true loves Kiss From a hero Who was Known as "The Great Sage equal to heaven", Saphira was Shocked that Her Future Husband will be the "Monkey king". Then She asked How would this be possible? But the oracle Answers that Destiny has it's ways to bring Two immortal lovers Together For the good of Saphira's Kingdom.. After the oracle left, Saphira began to Explore the temple while wearing a Lovely Fox Mask and began to Hum and Sings Softly with her beautiful Angelic Voice but little does she know that her Voice Echoes through temple and Nature itself At the center of the Temple, Pigsy Heard Her Voice and realized that there's a Princess In The temple as well along with an enchanted Fruit. Then He began to try to look For Sun wukong to Tell him But He already knows because he too heard Saphira's Voice, So He decided to See who She was and began Following Her beautiful Voice Unexpected By Shapeshift into a bug and Pigsy Turns into a caterpillar, When they Found Her In the Lovely Garden,, The Monkey King Saw the Princess Wearing a Fox Mask but he was curious about whats behind that mask of hers While Saphira Is relaxing and Humming beautifully until.. She saw a green Weird looking caterpillar with a Pig face..when she gets closer, Pigsy Spoke saying "Hiya gorgeous!" Saphira made a Small screams and runs off from the garden saying the caterpillar can talk, She stopped and glance back and pants..She could've swore That this Weird caterpillar can talk, She Spawn a beautiful fan and began to fan herself like she's going to Faint, After fanning herself and began to walk on the boardwalk until She hears the Fluttering of the beetle as she sees the weird Pig face caterpillar again and he Spoke again, trying to flirt at her.. but then saphira Smacked him with her fan and hits the wall as he change back to the original self with a Puff of smoke and she runs off fearfully, While she was running and head to the Big Garden part and She looked around making sure that Pigsy doesn't followed her, When she thought it was coast is clear But She was Followed by a weird Brown beetle but turns out it was the monkey king in the beetle form as she gasp and began to fall backward but She was caught by his arms and he said..

[pupp0ccino]

My Dust variant facts !

That no one asked for yay! ⟢

If I ever get to coloring these refs the current image will be replaced with the finished product.. also disclaimer, im aware these aren't canon , I just like having fun with characters and making my own versions of them

Dust

- he's a shapeshifter, having three forms. His normal form, Dustbunny, and Ghost. I hc him to have some form of identity/personality disorder (it's unspecified which one, that's up to y'all what you want him to have) so multiple forms with different personalities.

- his normal form, is simply just Dust. Hes the closest to looking like classic sans appearance wise compared to horror and killer.

- Dustbunny was mainly made as a kinsona, and for funzies, but Dust only morphs into this slightly smaller form as a defense mechanism, for he feels 'weak and pathetic' like prey. It's basically just him, but taking more on a bunny-like appearance and behavior. Like dust he's very closed off and quiet, but will rather flee than fight.

- Ghost is the complete opposite. Tall, sadistic and cruel with a sick smile plastered on his face. He comes in when Dust's getting a power trip, or needs to get big and protect himself. It kind of puts him in sort of a state of mania, where he has little sympathy for the people around him and how his actions affect others. He's a meanie, and loves to tease at people when ever he sees an opening

- Dust does not like to look in mirrors, or really have his hood off for long periods of time, nor being looked at. Makes him freak out

- he partakes in rabbit like behaviors, his nose twitches when his curious or irritated, he stomps his foot against the ground when he's upset, and he burrows. Accompanied by his tail being a rabbits tail !

- he's also a vampire, like nightmare, but instead of sucking the negativity out of souls, he just has cravings to bite and drink blood, has large sharp fangs, plus being a total night owl.

- he has really bad avoidant attachment when it comes to relationships, he's in fact fearful of gaining close bonds due to the fact he's lost people he's loved over and over and over and over again, before literally killing them off himself. So he purposely pushed himself away from people to not get too close.

- as in the picture above, he has markings speckled all across his face, it's also the same for his body down his arms and shoulders. He's kind of embarrassed about it, and hates it being pointed out

- he goes through psychosis, and psychotic episodes

- he's a stoner lolz (despite maryjane usage very much not being recommended to people who deal with psychosis...)

- his room is a depression room most of the time, he has a little mattress on the floor that looks like a nest

- he's a monster energy drinker because yes

- he's selectively mute, and has a very low social battery. He doesn't like crowded spaces and only has a select few people he talks to (killer, horror, fell)

- he has a hard time remembering to eat and will accidentally and sometimes purposely go days without eating. When he does eat, it's in very small portions, he doesn't like food like he used to.

- he doesn't like touch, don't touch him he will stab you

- Phantom, the papyrus voice in his head. What he says to dust is based on his state of mind. When he's in a normal state of mind, Phantom is a lot more like how papyrus usually acts , getting on Dust for little things like telling him to clean his room or that he has to take care of himself. The voice worsens as his state of mind worsens turning from silly banter to tormenting him about what he's done, and sometimes papyrus can also be like a Jiminy cricket to dust, a judge to his morals, and trying to set him on the right path. Dust hates this , and rarely ever listens.

- one of the things he does in his free time is play video games, he's your basic gamer boy. He likes to play cod mainly

- another hobby of his is that he likes to sew, and patch work his clothing and fabric items, along with making little plushies.

- bad sans poly bad sans poly toxic yaoi ..

That's it for now , I'll probably add more on later !!

Dust belongs to ask-dusttale