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rebrandedstoryline · 2 years ago

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Naughty Nightlight

AYO, more soup! More hot n spicy SOOP!

@zenkaiankoku, @feralmoonlight, @saburo-kyoto, @juupitrr

I didn’t think I’d wind up writing this one so soon but the idea was there when I woke up so I had to get it written or my brain would pester me. Still technically inspired by this post.

Moon x Reader. Contains the use of toys. Contains spanking. Contains biting. I’m pretty sure this qualifies as BDSM to some degree. This is a jealous, possessive Moon. This is more than suggestive, it is explicit. So be warned. 2k words. Just in case: This is all a completely consensual part of the relationship. Moon is very dominant and a punishment can be easily stopped with a safe word. Stay safe out there and be aware of your partners needs!

A furious growl escapes the animatronic as his eyes fixate on you. Dark. Threatening. Ominous. Quiet, but oh so obvious. He stares at you. He soaks in your disheveled appearance. Body bare upon the bed. Skin flushed pink from personal indulgence. Legs spread apart and bright blue dildo pressed all the way inside you. An excited, somewhat anxious tremble escapes you as you take note of his expression. For as angry as that growl was, his expression hints at nothing.

A wide, seemingly excited smile has spread across his features. Sharp teeth on display. He licks his lips as he looks at you. But it’s his gaze which hints at his fury. Intense. Fixated. Like a predator which has just come across weak, vulnerable prey. He practically stomps into the room. He comes to the edge of the bed, crawling up so that he might kneel upon it between your legs. Rather than touch you immediately, he proceeds to dig his fingers into the bedding. You jolt slightly at the sound of fabric being brutally ripped.

“What a naughty, naughty little girl you are, Nightlight~” Moon growls out, leaning towards you. His smile never wavers. His eyes remain unblinking. Hungry. Angry. Practically threatening. Against your wishes, you tremble from the excitement of it all. You can see that possessive glint in his eyes. Against your better judgement, it excites you. You like when he gets possessive. You like how much he obviously wants you. You also like to tempt fate. In effect, you’ve just invited a very grouchy, very hungry lion into your bed. And he had the teeth and claws necessary to make short work of you. “Playing with such a crude thing. Making such a mess. Leaving me left out. Rulebreaker. R u l e b r e a k e r~!” He effectively hisses out the words, his voice getting deeper and darker as he speaks. You hear him tearing into the bed again. A tremble rolls through you. That could be you being shredded by his claws. Some part of you wanted it to be. Some part of you wanted him to take you and violently remind you that you were his. To remind you why it was that you had so expressly been forbidden from doing this naughty deed. It wasn’t even that he hated the idea of you masturbating.

It was that he absolutely despised the idea of anyone else’s cock being inside of you. Moon was jealous. He was possessive. Even a toy purchased for your personal use seemed to be perceived as a threat to his claim to your heart and soul. Even when you’d sneakily gone and made it mirror the shaft that sprouted from between his legs. Even when you’d gone out of your way to intentionally show that you were trying to replicate his touch when you were unable to be with him. He didn’t like it.

Now he was angry. Angry, and possessive, and on the brink of going feral. Some part of you felt guilty for upsetting him. The other part of you recognized that your punishment was going to be stern and it was going to be sift. He leans closer to still, his tongue half poking from between his sharp teeth as he stares unabashedly at your crude display.

“Hands under your ass. Now. Lift it up.” Moon commands, his voice an even more stern growl. Trembling faintly, you oblige. You slide your hands around to grasp at the underside of your arse, and strain somewhat to lift your lower half up off of the bed. The position is difficult. The position is uncomfortable. That is the point. You are being punished and you know very well to obey. Disobedience will add to the punishment. “Do not move. Do not take your eyes off of me.” He commands, prying a hang out from the mangled corpse of the bed to move it between your legs. You keep your eyes locked on his. You soak in his wild, passionate expression. All the while you are not allowed to look at what he’s doing with his hand. All you’re allowed to do is feel it as you struggle to maintain the position he’s had you lay in. Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel him take hold of the pho phallus that still lays buried inside you.

He pulls it out completely in one swift movement. Not fast enough for it to genuinely hurt, but fast enough for it to almost sting. Just as swiftly he pushes it back in. Then back out. Then back in. Repeatedly. Relentlessly. He ignores how your legs begin to tremble from the strain of maintaining your pose. He doesn’t care whether or not his actions are pushing you near orgasm. They are. But laying here alone with him in bed, knowing that he could so easily touch you directly, that was the punishment.

You’re being denied the pleasure of his touch, just as you were denying him the pleasure of touching you when you decided to use the fake shaft. All the while you’re forced to keep your hands to yourself by maintaining this awkward and tedious position. All the while you’re forced to maintain eye contact with him as he gives you exactly what you asked for. An orgasm. An orgasm brought about by the swift and unfeeling thrusting of a silicone cock. Cold. Unloving. A useless toy that you now regretted bringing into your home.

Tears prick at your eyes as the ache in your arms and legs grows more obvious. You’re so close. So close to climax. But you can’t do it. Your body buckles abruptly. While you don’t exactly fall far, you do fall enough for the toy to be unceremoniously withdrawn from you completely. Still, you maintain eye contact with Moon. You watch as his smile falters for a split second. You watch as rage, and dare you believe it, concern, flashes in his eyes. He finally looks away from you. You follow his gaze.

He’s glaring daggers at the sopping wet toy that he holds in his hand. His strength is so easily portrayed as he abruptly mangles it in his grip. His claws pierce and shred the silicone with the ease of a hot knife through butter. The dildo is left ruined beyond the means of use. He throws it directly into the trashcan near the nightstand. Gone. Never to return. Forbidden to return. He turns back to you. His gaze still angry, though there’s a softness to it now. He pulls you closer to him.

Close enough that you can feel his erection confined within the fabric of his clothing. He purposefully and roughly grinds against you. Stimulating you while also denying you both the contact you both so desperately desire. He growls again. Softer first. Then his voice gets ominous once more. He leans down to lick away the tears that have escaped your eyes. Gently. Slowly. Seemingly resisting the urge to call your punishment done and begin the aftercare process. But he knows he’s can’t. He’s not done yet. You broke the rules again.

“I told you not to move.” Moon growls again, moving his hands to run them along the underside of your legs. Slowly. Carefully. He slides them up to press his palms against the underside of your knees. Then up your legs go. He pushes them up. Not quite to your chest, but your backside is rendered entirely exposed to him with the position that you’ve been pushed into. He adjusts you in his hold to keep both of your legs held up with one hand. You know what’s coming next. It’s obvious. You shudder slightly in anticipation of it. “Now I have to punish you more!” He practically snarls, bringing down his free hand to strike you on the arse. It stings. It stings a lot. Enough to make tears well in your eyes once more. There’s no pleasure to counteract the pain. He strikes you once. Twice. Thrice. Your backside is no doubt left littered with three distinct imprints of his hand. The swats stop as soon as a tear rolls down your cheek. That’s enough. He loves you. He doesn’t want to hurt you. He doesn’t want to push you to your breaking point. He lets go of your legs, but you keep them up.

Slowly. Carefully. He caresses the pink welts that he’s left upon your ass. Apologizing for the pain. Reassuring you that despite his anger - despite the ferocity of his punishment - he still loves you. Still, you tremble at his touch. The pain and pleasure mixes together where his fingers meet your sore skin. His growling is gone. Replaced with soft, soothing shushing. He leans to lick the tears from your cheeks once more. When you wrap your arms around him to pull him in for a kiss, he does not deny you.

The kiss is short but hungry. Brief, but exactly what you needed to come back down to earth. Still, you crave him. The toy wasn’t enough. The toy wasn’t the same as him, even if you succeeded at making it resemble him. Your insides feel empty. Wanting. The heat of your loins screaming for his touch.

“I-I’m sorry! Pease...” You breathlessly whisper your apology against his lips. Begging for him. Pleading for him to touch you more. For him to fill the emptiness that the toy left behind. He practically purrs against your lips as he kisses you again, pulling you closer. You feel him grind his clothed phallus against you ever so slightly, but he’s not teasing. He wants to feel you. His hand sneaks down to fumble about for a moment. Just to free himself from the fabric that prevents him from feeling you.

“Good girl~” Moon purrs, breaking away from the kiss to lick along your neck. A loud, breathless moan escapes you as you feel it. He presses in. One sweet, swift motion. He buries himself inside of you. Prevented from penetrating further only by the force of your pelvis being crushed against his. Hot and slick. You wrap your legs around him, trying to keep him close. Not that he plans on going anywhere. He won’t even risk slipping out from inside of you as he begins to roll his hips. Slowly. Sweetly. Replacing the emptiness that the toy left within you. “Oh, Stars... I love you~!” His voice leaves him as both a moan and a growl. You gasp abruptly, feeling his teeth sink into the flesh of your shoulder. He bites you deeply. He bites you swiftly to reduce that initial pain, then he locks his jaws for a moment to soak up the bitter taste of your blood. Your trembling increases. The pain mixes with the pleasure, creating a euphoria that cannot be described with words alone. When he withdraws his teeth from your flesh, he cleans the wound with his tongue. Slowly and intently. Assuring that the blood can’t drip off to stain the blankets. “Never do that again. Never! Never!” He growls, growing possessive once more. He’s demanding. He’d begging. He’s making it clear that he doesn’t ever want to discover you replacing his touch with a toy again. Ever. Never. You can’t even find your voice to respond to him, it’s been overtaken by the gasps and moans which escape you with his every thrust. So you pull him closer. You cling to him. You bury your neck in his shoulder and lightly bite him back. Your teeth are to weak and blunt to do anything to him.

Still, he can feel it. His possessive growls grow louder as his thrusts get stronger. Filling you. Breeding you. He’ll mark your body with his teeth. With his claws. With the essence that spills from within him to plant itself inside your womb. Then, when you’ve been left breathless and exhausted, he’ll lay with you. He’ll cradle you close. He’s whisper sweet nothings and sing your name as you come down from your high. Then, when your legs fail to support you, he’ll carry you.

He’ll tend to your every want and need, having been satisfied with fully imprinting himself onto you. His one and only. His Nightlight. His one shred of hope that shines bright regardless of the dark.

#Moondrop #Moon x Reader #not osha approved #biting #blood #spaking #toy use #consensual punishment #spicy

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