#yes of course they had dog collars too

[queercodex]

nothing like a good ol trip to the lesbian store <3

[princessbrunette]

people often ask if rafe is ever nice to puppy!reader. of course he is. he just has to be in the right mood.

it wasn’t any kind of behaviour from you that he wasn’t expecting — you were a pogue for gods sake, and one that acted like a stray dog at best — so when you come running into tanny hill after falling out a nearby tree with a bloody hand, rafe is far from surprised.

“the hell did you do now?” he drawls, instantly lifting you under the arms and walking you like that to the kitchen sink as you sob. it had scared you more than anything, and he could tell straight off looking at it that it wasn’t broken or sprained — just all bloody which made it look a lot worse than it was. rafe had his fair share of accidents growing up, especially getting into fights with guys from your side of the island, so he was used to patching up his own hands and wrists.

he places you infront of the tap, listening to your whines and sniffles as you run your hand under the cold water, watching the red slowly wash away as rafe rummages in the drawers for the first aid kit, exasperatedly opening it up on the kitchen counter. he dabs at your hand with a paper towel, drying it off before rustling around the kit.

“the fuck were you thinking, huh? could have knocked yourself out. maybe that would teach you.” he lectures, but he’s not particularly in the worst mood so there’s no real threat behind it. “keep your hand still, alright?” he mutters, quietly in concentration as he begins to wrap it with a bandage.

but the tears keep coming, so unlike your usual happy silly ways. once you’re all bandaged he lets you snuggle against him there in the kitchen, getting tears and snot all over his polo as he sighs, shaking his head and rubbing your back. when you don’t stop crying, really working yourself into a state he feels he has no choice but to lift you, letting you wrap your legs around his waist and burrow into his shoulder.

“alright— okay, it’s over, it’s done kid— just quit crying. you’re fine.” he bounces you anyway and you calm slightly, feeling better now that he was holding you. he was coming to learn that sometimes that was all you needed and a little bit of kindness and warmth went a long way with him. he told himself he’d work on it because it did not come too naturally.

he’s not sure what else to do in terms of physical comfort, so he does what he knows best and snakes his hand under your denim skirt over your ass where he’s holding you. you quiet down a little more, permitting him, drooling and chewing on the collar of his polo.

“yeah… that better?” he asks once he starts rubbing you over your panties and you let out a loud shaky breath, nodding against him. “m’talkin’ to you kid, speak.”

“yes feels b’tter…” you hiccup and he deflates a little, relaxing into it there and then in the tanny hill kitchen as he continues stroking you, listening to your breathing calm.

soon, he’s fucking your clit with his thumb, knuckles deep with your legs still pinned around his waist, voice cracking and breaking into his shoulder. you let out a particularly loud sob and he tsks.

“hey, don’t start this shit again on me alright? just take it… thats right.” he manages to bounce you a little, forcing his fingers deeper and you go limp, body weight dropping against him even more. “uh-huh. got what you need, don’t i?” he mutters as you groan, unable to speak.

say what you want about rafe, but he’d always help you out when you need it.

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

Maybe one with bunny!hyrbid!reader and Natasha “adopts” her and just fucks the shit out of her with her strap (or her real cock if you prefer to write that)

Run Rabbit Run

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: fem!bunny!hybrid!reader x owner!Nat

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐲: Natasha can’t help but grant her bunny all her little wishes

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, dom!Nat, sub!reader, age gap (legal), ownership, size kink, strap on, artificial cum, slight breeding kink, pillow humping, slight somno, masturbation, crying during it,

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional. I do not own these characters!

𝐌.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

What to do with all the money you make as an Avenger? That was a question Natasha had ask herself more times than she could count. Sure currently was her monthly pay check and all the money she made from interviews and social media was rotting away in her bank account, because she was never a fan of making herself gifts nor did she have time for it. But now with Easter just around the corner the Russian decided to not only do something against her overload on money but also against her loneliness.

She wanted a hybrid, not just some brainless pet but something that could actually understand her. The concept of owing a hybrid wasn't new of course it had been around for years, back in the days they actually hunted them from nature but nowadays there was no need after they got a hang of how to domesticate such a creature.

Natasha stepped foot in one of the only places in the whole of New York who sold these rare creatures- Tony had recommended it to her after once more bragging about his large collection. The over friendly employee showed her the different enclosures all while the employee tried to keep it together- after all you didn't see an Avenger daily not even when working for a prestigious company like she did.

Natasha first visited the cat hybrids, cute but too stubborn, then the dogs, too dependent, foxes were too clever for her taste though especially the polar foxes caught her eyes. Bears and any other large animals would be too much work and needed too much space. The right pick was right on her nose she wanted to get herself a bunny.

Standing in front of the enclosure which held you and a few of your companions Natasha and the employee stood, her gaze never leaving your body. You didn't alter much from a normal human, except for the fluffy bunny ears, little tail and over all smaller build you looked like any other girl. You were going to cost her a hefty amount of hard earned money but for your rare breed, Natasha couldn't care less about that in the moment. The way you stat there so carelessly reading some book which laid in her lap, made you different in her eyes more intelligent maybe? She wanted connection and not some braindead doll after all.

"The one in the pink collar… is she still to have?" Natasha asked the employee you gave her a quick nod. "Yes, she hasn't been here for long though the ones like her normally get adopted quite quickly." Nat only hummed in approval she couldn't wait to have you in her home. "I'll have her in a private kennel"

Meeting a potential owner made you nervous of course you had been trained to and prepared on how to act in such a situation, how to appeal to any potential owner - though you secretly hoped for a female buyer. You tried your best to hide your shy nature from the older woman who awaited you but Natasha found it charming how your, compared to your body, large floppy bunny ears hang low but twitched up when she spoke to you in a gentle manner.

Natasha approached the situation with a calm demeanour- she knew about the shy nature of a bunny like you. As soon as you were comfortable enough to approach her she started to pet over your smaller head with careful hands- and you loved it. By the end of your get to know each other you sat on the redhead's lap clinging on to her. But you weren't parted for long Natasha signed all the paperwork the same day and at the start of the next week you were able to move in with her.

She had given you a nice room, with many books, TV and games to entrain yourself with while she would be working. You came with the clothes from the centre, a basic white bluse, white skirt everything in white , like any other hybrid except for your coloured coded collar which adored your neck so the employees had an easier time keeping hybrids a part. Natasha started to take great joy in precisely choosing each outfit for you. Price didn't matter to Natasha, if she found something to be cute she bought it for you and Nat was known for expensive taste. Sooner or later your closet was fuller than hers, filled to the brim with shorts, blouses, floral summer dresses anything which had a playful feel to it.

Natasha was a busy woman though, often being away for days at a time, she normally made up with expensive gifts and extensive cuddling for her little bunny girl. But that hardly was enough to satisfy your need to be close to the older woman, not to mention that you were worried sick about your owner once you had found out that she wasn't a simple business woman but an avenger.

Natasha came home at around 3 AM after a long mission in Europe the jet lag and sleep deprive was killing her, and since she thought you'd already be asleep at such a late hour- and way past your agreed on bed time, she'd just go to sleep already. As soon as she had stripped to her underwear and her face had it the pillows she was dead asleep, little did she know that you weren't.

Next door you were awake, not only that but you were desperate. This had never happened before yet you immediately knew what it was. You had your first heat, and nothing helped, no toy's from the centre, no playing with yourself, no nothing. You had a pillow under your hips probed up at the seams you humped the pillow like your life depended on it.

You mewled as your already sensitive cunt graced over the edge of the pillow. You were close to cuming but you couldn't bring yourself over the edge. That's when you heard Natasha rummaging through the house you're floppy bunny ears twitching up to detect the source of the noise. You waited patiently in your room trying to find some sleep, maybe Natasha could help you out in the morning. But you could feels your juices sticking to the inside of your thighs.

With small steps you made it into Natasha's bed room tears of frustration already building in your eyes threatening to spill over your blushing cheeks. Carefully you climbed into her bed to find her in a deep slumber laying on her back. You sat down on her on her thigh your pussy making contact with her soft skin.

Slowly you started to rhythmically move it against the limp muscles of her thigh small whimpers falling from your throat in between the sobs of frustration paired with the cries of her name and the tears rolling down your cheek it made a whole picture.

Natasha peaceful face scrunched up in confusion of the sensation when she slowly woke from her slumber she was utterly distraught. Her sweet little bunny humping her thigh like a bitch in heat. With careful hands she stopped your hips and you immediately broke out into a new round of sobs and cries.

"Sheesh" she hushed you petting over over your low hanging ears "You're just in heat bunny, it'll be over soon" She assured you when you pressed your face into her neck. "I want it over now!" You cried out "what about the advice the centre gave you?" She tried but feeling you so desperate and need had an affect on her too.

"Doesn't work" You huffed out "I want you to play with me" Nat was startled by the request, was it morally right for her to sleep with you? It was the main point of criticism surrounding owing a hybrid, but what if not the owner but the hybrid wanted it. "Please" you whined and the assassin's strong will broke right there. "Wait here bunny I'll go get something" You nodded and released Natasha from your grace watching her go.

She came back with a noticeable bulge in her sleep shorts, which upon seeing made your thighs clench together. "It's not going to hurt bunny" She assured and got behind you pulling her shorts down to reveal her, to your body size massive, strap on. She pressed the fat tip against your entrance and your hooded eyes flew open in surprise at the shear size of the toy.

"Natty, it's to big" You mewled out your cotton tail twitching "It's not gonna fit" Natasha scoffed shaking her head as if you had just made an outrageous statement. "I'm gonna make it fit bunny" She pushed forward and your bunny hears flew up in surprise of the stretch. You hands dug into the soft pillow underneath your head as you whimpered in a mic of pain and pleasure.

"Natasha!" You cried as she bottomed you out the stretch being much greater than you could've accomplished with your little fingers. "I'm gonna move now bunny" You nodded and felt her starting with a comfortable rhythm which made the pain turn into pleasure.

By your sweet moans she could tell how much you liked it and fastened her pace to finally give you what you wanted. With deep thrusts she stroked your G spot making you see stars as she too enjoyed the feeling of the strap running against her clit. You mewled out some words she couldn’t make out but took at as a sign of approval for her to keep going.

With both of her hands on your hips she forcefully slammed into your tight heat making sure to not actually hurt you. You arched your back one hand sneaking to your neglected bundle of nerves rubbing it in tight circles. “Fuck are you close?” Natasha asked there was a certain tiredness in her voice still. She clenched down harder on the silicone and mewled out “Yes, please”

“Fuck cum with me” with a few more fast thrusts you came first you’re juicing coating the lower stomach of the black widow. She had a surprise for you when you noticed a thick liquid gushing from the strap into your womb as she came. After having cum herself she pulled out to watch in an awe how the white cum was dripping from your stretched out hole.

After having cleaned you up Natasha could finally rest but not without you resigning on her chest of course. Call it what you wanted for Natasha those feelings of affection were real and of no ill intent she just did whatever you wanted to ensure happiness. With that thought and still cum dripping from your hole both you and Natasha fell asleep.

:)

[sh1-n0bu]

𝔫𝔬𝔟𝔲’𝔰 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 2023!

day 30: choking with il dottore from genshin impact

warnings: choking, slapping, usage of aphrodisiac, dottore is a masochist, cockstepping, foot humping, degrading, cumming untouched, reader is a harbinger

notes: can you guys just tell that i fucking despise this rat????

as harbingers of the tsaritsa and a group of very unlovable, twisted, evil and just genuinely not-so-good people, disturbance at workplace was common. of course, said disturbance ranges from a simple hiss of “i fucking hate you. i hope your next mission goes so unwell that the only casualty will be your tattered corpse” to whatever this is. this could have easily been called as something that most people would call as ‘hate sex’ if only the both of you were not fully clothed.

so technically, this would be counted as ‘hate masturbating’? ah, fuck the labels or those things. right now, the only focus on your mind was to put this annoying bastard in his place.

he really thought he was the shit, didn’t he? the absolute galls of this motherfucker to even dare to put you down and insult you in front of your own subordinates. not just that, he went ahead and put aphrodisiacs into your coffee and his own like the absolute lunatic he was.

how badly you wanted to crush his windpipes in. that would oh so easy with your current position of your hand wrapped nicely around his neck like those beautiful chokers you see on some certain accessory shops. or even one that resembles a collar that is bound tightly around the neck of a rabies infested animal. but with a deranged doctor like dottore, the latter description seem to fit well with how he was moaning and wheezing, clothed cock humping your boots as he panted like a dog.

“you really are a detestable creature, you know that?” you hiss in sheer and utter anger, your other hand joining the other to wrap around his throat more forcefully. both hands on his neck, ready to crush his windpipes in if you wanted.

you had the power. a harbinger who’s currently in the position of tenth may be considered weak amongst fellow harbingers but even then, the tenth fatui harbinger is more than capable to shake an entire nation and to be seen as a threat to an archon.

and that tenth harbinger is you.

so even if dottore may be the second, one of the few who has the capacity to rival a god, right now he was nothing more than a pathetic dog who was humping your shoe. panting and whining loudly with his tongue stuck out, the mad doctor only focuses on the feeling of your hands choking him and the hardened leather of your shoes.

“y-yes.. yes yessshh yesyesyesyesyes oh archons, yes. i am. i’m a detestable creature. your detestable creature” dottore chokes on his spit, a wheezing shrill moan escaping his open mouth as his drool drips down his chin. he seems to like being degraded like this, the movements of his humping becoming more and more frantic on your shoe.

red eyes rolling to the back of his skull, sharp gasps and squeals following until he swore he could see black dots in his vision. he didn’t wanted to have the black spots dancing in his vision! because if so, how was he going to see you? he wanted to see you. that look of just pure anger on your face as you choke the daylights out of him and let him hump you like a dog in heat. no, he needed to see you.

“aaANGH—! kyuuck hhang♡︎♡︎ gck! ♡︎♡︎” a loud intake of breath is heard as your hands let go of the position around his neck, allowing him to breathe for a moment. not too long after, without even allowing him to catch a full breath, his head lolls to the side with a stinging feeling on the side of his cheek. did you just…?

“eyes on me. who said you could go around tearing your gaze away from me, rat” he could briefly hear your voice hiss through the ringing in his ears. muffled, faint, hard to tell if the voice was truly falling from your lips or if it was one of his manic episode voices talking.

either way, it was still your voice that was blessing his ears. it was your shoe that was now stepping on his clothed, weeping cock and he was thankful. maniac and downright insane but dottore knows a holy being when he sees and hears one. he may have not worshipped any of the archons, but for you? the mad doctor would gladly kiss the soles of your shoes over and over. hell, he would even thank you just for being in the same room as you.

call him unstable as much as you would like and he knows that. he even revels in the title and he would gladly wear that title for his entire life if he could be with you. dottore always had this odd obsession with you. since your titling of becoming the tenth fatui harbinger, he had developed this odd sense of fascination.

fascination to dottore, but unhealthy obsession to others.

not like the doctor cares. he had long since gave up trying to reason with other beings and had lost almost all contact with social interaction if not for the harbingers gathering or his experiments with his lab rats. until you joined his ranks.

“i said eyes on me, doctor” you grunt, slapping him across his face again. on the other cheek this time. that seemed to have done the work to catch his attention successfully as his hazy blood eyes focus on you. his cheeks were the same shade of red as his eyes, however it was hard to tell whether it was from your forceful hits or his blushing.

“ougck—! yess.. ye-es yes yesyesyesyes, eyes on you♡︎eyes solely on you♡︎” the blue haired man nods frantically, slight twitch and wince in his eyes showing that the added pressure to his cock was just a tad bit painful for him. even a masochist has their limits. but did he care? no. no he absolutely did not care. if anything, the crazy doctor wanted it to hurt since it was you who was delivering these delicious cocktail of pleasure and pain. he wanted it to hurt. he wanted it to feel good.

with another slap to his cheek for his continued disobedience — for constantly trying to look down at where your shoe was stepping on his stained pants — the doctor lets out a choked noise akin to a mewl before his entire body spasms. thighs shaking and twitching before a strangled noise is let out as the stain in his pants become darker and darker. the stain moving and spreading, some of it even seeping through the fabrics of his clothes as it drips onto the floor below.

“did you… just cum untouched?” you ask, doing a double take as you lift up your shoe to stare at the white translucent juice drip down onto the floor, leaving a tiny puddle. dottore only giggles, almost as if he was in a drunken haze, as he slowly lifts up his face to stare at you. he looked positively fucked up.

“do that again, pleaasshee♡︎?” dottore drawls out.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Tears IV

Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader

Summary: You and Fluffles

It's not often that people come around to the house.

Most of the time, it's you and Mami.

But today it's you, Mami and some of her teammates.

Mami usually does team bonding at their houses when you're away with Abuela and Tia Alba but today she's been convinced to open the house to them.

They're as quiet as a group of football players can be, having been lectured by Alexia at training today about being respectful of your needs if they're going to be invading the house together.

It's after dinner that they arrive. It's late, not enough for you to be in bed but late enough for you to have already had your night time bath and be in your pyjamas.

You hide away most of the time in your bedroom, just drawing but you pop out occasionally to show Mami what you've created.

The living room is loud with chatter and the tv has been commandeered by Jana and Bruna to play FIFA while everyone else watches and yells out tactics to try to help.

You're sitting on Mami's lap when suddenly everything gets a bit overwhelming and your skin becomes itchy with unease. You go tense, locking up all of your muscles at once until you're frozen like a statue.

Mami notices instantly, slipping your ear defenders on and lightly tap you off her lap. "Go and get Fluffles, pequeñita," She says.

You shake your head, still completely stiff. You glance around the room at where the girls are still watching the screen.

"No one's going to judge you for needing Fluffles," Mami says," I think you're in need of some Fluffles cuddles."

You sniffle and reach for her hand, tugging on it so she comes with you.

"Alright, pequeñita," She says," Let's go and get Fluffles."

You tug out at the collar of your pyjama shirt. You don't like how to feels against your skin and Mami tugs it off you. The air is a bit colder now but it feels nice on your heated skin and you can finally relax when Mami heads into Fluffles' room and unlocks her cage.

Fluffles leaps out of her cage instantly, darting around the room briefly before she leaps into your waiting arms. Her little hands press against your shoulder as you push your face into her soft fur.

Mami got your Fluffles last year for your birthday and she was your favourite thing in the whole world. She was so soft and little and she always made you feel so much better when you held her.

"Do you want to stay in here?" Mami asks," Or should we go back to the living room?"

You think it over for a moment, content with just holding Fluffles against you as she grunts softly against you.

"I take Fluffles with me?"

"Of course," Mami says," I'll even warm you up some milk. Do you want to go back out to the others?"

You nod. "With Fluffles."

It's nosier in the lounge than in Fluffles' room but you've got your ear defenders and your Fluffles so things are getting better.

Mami returns you to your spot on her lap as she sits on the sofa again.

Fluffles rests against you as you take big, deep breaths like Mami taught you to.

"I told you it would be a good idea," Irene says to Alexia when she notices," Pets are always good for kids."

Alexia rolls her eyes. "Oh yes because you can definitely compare your dog and son with my daughter and her chinchilla."

Paredes shrugs. "But I was right. They're cute together."

"They're not cute together when Alba lets it free to roam around the house without permission. I've had to put wrappings around all the wires."

Paredes holds her hands up. "Hey, I said get another dog. You're the one that gave her the chinchilla."

"She loves it," Alexia replies," It helps with her issues. It's the fur I think. If she could take it everywhere with her, she would. I think she wants another one too."

Paredes laughs. "Good luck with that."

Fluffles shifts in your arms until she's buried in the crook of your elbow, falling asleep quickly as you hold her.

Your whole body relaxes as Fluffles does and Mami very gently moves your ear defenders to rest against your neck.

"Do you still want your milk, pequeñita?"

You nod and she very carefully sits you on the sofa while she goes off to the kitchen.

With Mami gone, it's just you and Fluffles and you give her lots of little kisses as she naps.

Keira slides in next to you and very carefully points at Fluffles. "Who's this?"

"Fluffles," You answer," Mami got me her for my birthday last year."

"That's nice. What kind of animal is she?"

"A chinchilla. She's very soft."

"That's nice," Keira says," Does she live in your room?"

You shake your head. "Lives in the spare room so she has lots of room to play."

"That's cool. Is she your best friend?"

You nod. "Her and Mami."

"Her and Mami what?" Mami asks as she returns.

"My best friends," You reply," You and Fluffles." You think for a moment. "And Teeny."

"You're so sweet, pequeñita," Mami coos, layering kisses over your face," You're my best friend too."

You're sat on her lap again quickly and Mami holds your sippy cup of warm milk for you to drink out of.

The noise of the rest of the team has quietened down now because someone's put on a movie to watch. It's an adult movie so it's pretty boring and once you're done with your milk, you shift to get more comfy on Mami's lap.

Her fingers card through your hair before gently drawing circles on your belly. It's nice and relaxing and Fluffles soft weight in your arms is just perfect.

"Alright you lot," Alexia says," Come on, out."

"Aw, Ale!" Mapi complains," Why?"

Alexia glances down at you. "Because my pequeñita needs to go to bed now. You just being here has tired her out!"

Mapi laughs. "See, Ingrid? I'm good at getting babies to sleep when it's late!"

Ingrid rolls her eyes. "Not a chance, Mapi! Teeny's bedtime is the perfect bedtime for her. I'm not changing it."

The girls all stream out promptly after that and Alexia is left to get you and Fluffles settled in bed. She returns Fluffles to her cage and lifts your limp body up into her arms.

She bypasses your bedroom entirely and tucks you nice and safe into her bed, sliding in next to you.

[my-castles-crumbling]

(Not) a disaster

(Jegulus, slightly NSFW)

Disaster. The word kept ringing through James's head over and over as he sat in his sitting room, biting at his lip, replaying the afternoon in his mind.

How long had he worked to get Regulus to agree to go out with him? How long before that had he silently pined for the other man? And now?

Rain.

It had started as a light drizzle, hardly enough to ruin the picnic James has so carefully planned and laid out, Regulus had assured him. But almost within seconds, it had turned into a torrential downpour. So much so that they'd abandoned the picnic- blanket, basket, and all- to make a run for James's place, since it was closer.

Though it had taken James seconds to change into something dry after searching through drawers for something for the smaller man, Regulus had taken his time in the bathroom. Which of course gave James plenty of time to worry.

This wasn't how James had wanted to bring Regulus back to his place for the first time. It wasn't how he'd wanted this to go! It wasn't-

But his thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice.

"James?"

He turned, and his eyes immediately popped open. Regulus walked out to the couch, eyes as beautifully grey and stormy as the clouds outside, hair still wet and tousled just the right amount, a few beads of water clinging to the ends. His neck and collarbones were stunningly bare, framed by the collar of one of James's shirt- still huge on him even if it was the smallest James could find.

And he had nothing on his legs.

They were jaw-dropping, peeking out from the hem of the long shirt that barely covered the swell of his arse, muscles flexing a bit as he walked, skin so perfect that James wanted to sink his teeth in Regulus's thighs.

"Fuck," James whispered, sitting up on the couch to get a better view.

"The pants were too big," Regulus shrugged nonchalantly, curling up next to a still shell-shocked James on the couch. "I figured you wouldn't mind..."

"No!" James choked out, blinking furiously. "I mean- yes, I- I mean-" He tried to get ahold of himself, shaking his head a bit like a confused dog. "Good. This is...this is good."

Regulus sent him a sly smile. "I know you had this whole thing planned out, but I was thinking a movie and maybe some takeout...would that be okay? I'm just so comfortable here," he mumbled, laying himself across James's lap.

And, nodding eagerly, James grabbed the remote, "That's, yeah, perfect!" he exclaimed, itching to grab at any bit of Regulus he could, but reminding himself to behave.

"Jamie?"

Biting his lip furiously, trying not to go absolutely insane at the sound of Regulus's voice coupled with the feeling of having him so close, when he was in his fucking shirt, with no fucking pants, James eyed him warily. "Yeah, Reg?"

"Maybe later, you can take your pants off, too."

[ragingbookdragon]

Veils of Gold

Royal AU! Knight!Simon Ghost Riley x Queen!Reader

Word Count: 1.1K Warnings: None

Author's Note: Knight Simon being completely down to his knees for his Queen is something I hold dear in my heart

**********************************************************************

It was piss poor luck on his part that the archer had spectacularly good aim and got to him before John or Kyle could. The arrow hit the soft part of his armor in the back of his knee, sinking through and out the side, hitting against the inside of his steel armor. Instantly, he felt the coursing of some type of poison as he went to his good knee, cursing and reaching back for his bad knee. He watched through the corner of his visor as John’s claymore bit into the archer’s shoulder and cleaved halfway through his torso before he dropped.

John ran to him, dropping his sword down as he knelt. “How bad is it?” he asked, prodding the wound and watching as crimson stained through the brown leather of his glove.

“Bad,” Simon said. “Poisoned.”

“Shite. Captain!”

Jonathan sprinted over, sheathing his own sword as he lifted two fingers to his mouth and whistled for his horse. “John, help him onto the horse and lead him back to the castle. Kyle, you and I will continue to scout out the rest of the enemies.”

“Yes sir,” he replied, pulling another arrow, and nocking it.

“I can still fight,” Simon griped, pushing himself up to his feet; he reached behind and yanked the arrow out, only letting out a very nasty grunt of pain. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine and you’ll do as I command,” Jonathan replied, pointing to the horse. “You’re in no condition to fight. You’ll either get yourself or all of us killed.”

“Cap—”

“That’s an order, Knight Lieutenant.”

Jonathan voice booked no room for an argument and Simon acquiesced as he hobbled over to the horse, though he knocked John’s hands away as he pulled himself up on the horse.

“I’ll scout ahead,” John muttered, pulling out his bow. “Will you be okay until we—”

“I’ll be fine,” Simon griped, pulling the reins of the horse. “Let’s go.”

***

Effectively, the last thing Simon remembered was crossing the bridge into town, panting like a dog before he toppled sideways into the freezing water below. All he could think was how nice it felt seeping under his armor and flooding over his heated skin.

***

Dripping echoed in his ears, a throbbing settled between them as pain pulsed through his skull and shot down to his leg. He grimaced, cracking an eye open, expecting to see the wooden ceiling of the Knight’s lodging but instead was greeted with a gilded golden mosaic encrusted with gemstones and marble. It took him a moment before he realized where and whose room he was in—the Queen’s.

Another drip sounded and he turned his head along the silk pillow, watching as a veiled figure dipped their hands into the water basin in the corner of the room; a woman, by the shape of their figure and it was only until they turned with a wet rag that he realized it was her.

She wore a white and gold, sleeveless gown that dipped lower in the front than he liked it too, but she looked the portrait of heraldry, especially with the golden veil that circled her hair like a halo and down her back. Slits in the side of her white dress showed her legs as she walked, and he watched her gold sandal, adorned feet with each step until she sat down on the bed beside him. Gently, she laid the rag on his forehead and touched his cheek.

“Your servants will talk,” he whispered, practically delirious and unable to tear his eyes from the sight of the gold sewn into the bodice of her dress and up where it collared by her neck and shoulders. “They will know.”

Her hum was heaven’s music as she pulled the sheet away from his leg and gently went about cleaning his wound again.

His stomach dropped when he saw crimson on her hands and his shot out, grasping her wrists. “Stop. Stop touching me.”

“Simon?” she appeared shocked, not that he had grabbed her so tightly but that his voice seemed on the verge of hysterics.

“My blood,” he breathed. “I am not worthy enough to have bled onto your clean hands.”

“Then you are also not worthy to have my white gown wipe away the sweat and grime too,” she said, all the while, rubbing the end of her dress along his knee, slicking it with dirt, sweat, and blood.

“My Queen,” he begged. “Please, I am unclean. I am too stained for your purity. I—”

“You will lie as your Queen commands and be healed under her hands,” she interrupted, giving him a stare that would have withered a lesser man.

Simon swallowed his words, a tightness in his chest as he watched her dip her dress into the jug of water next to the nightstand and begin anew, wiping his wound.

“I am unworthy of such pure grace,” he whispered, and she smiled, her eyes soft and gentle.

“You are a foolish man,” she murmured, pouring a thick looking greenish liquid into the wound before she wrapped it. “A man I admire greatly, but a foolish one all the same.”

He felt his breathing stutter in his lungs when her hands drifted up his wrapped knee to the inside of his thigh, then to his hip, where she caressed the sharp bone beneath his skin before she bent down and kissed it. “My Queen,” he groaned, feeling her lips turn upwards against his pale skin; he felt his chest flush with a pale redness at the intimacy. If anyone saw—“Please, have mercy upon me…” he pleaded. “Should anyone see you in such a compromised position…”

“You are such a worrier,” she sighed, sitting up; her hand rested upon his cheek before it gently threaded into the hair at the side of his head. “The door to my quarters is locked. No one can come in.”

Simon gazed at her, lovesick and feverish. “I do not wish for your reputation to be tainted as mine has been. You are too good for it.”

She ignored him and leaned forward, pressing her lips to his. “You are loved by the most powerful woman this side of the land. You hold more power over me and my resolve than any law ever will.”

He whimpered into her and reached up, touching the veil she wore. “I yet still believe that one touch from your hallowed form will free me from all I have done.”

“Should it not, you know I would walk beside you in hell until we have.”

“I am not worthy,” he murmured, and she quieted him.

“Hush, you are the most.”

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

Hark! I submit an official request for Raphael and someone (dealer’s choice) getting hit with the old Sex Pollen. It could be a trick by Haarlep or a plant/mushroom releasing pollen/spores in Faerûn during one of his visits. I leave circumstances to your brilliant imagination.

I love the sex pollen trope and would love to see you write it :) As always, feel free to make him or both of them as tame or unhinged as you like! Thank you! 💕

❤️

Raph gets pollened ☺️

Read on AO3

-

There was a lot of strange stuff to find laying about in the ruins of Moonrise Towers. Most of it caked in dirt, dust, and other unidentifiable substances. The kleptomaniac in Tav had her poking around, putting her mitts on everything before those little tiefling gobshites stripped the place bare.

She was enamoured by something: a big round vial that contained some viscous liquid which, when Tav cleaned the bottle a little, glowed an ominous dark purple. The stopper was wedged too tight to open. It had been fermenting for a long, long time. Tav had discovered the bottle in a box with a decrepit occult codex of some kind and a burned out incense holder. Bizarre findings that warranted further investigation – after she’d raided everything else of value, of course.

“Well, well. Where should I find the mouse but scurrying about in a ruined old attic? Apt.”

“Shit!”

Tav nearly leapt out of her skin. The bottle went flying, shattering on the ground. A thin, noxious violet gas began to seep from its shattered corpse. The smell was pungent, stomach-churning; like rotten eggs and swamp water. Tav coughed and gagged, eyes wet, glaring at the devil who’d startled her so badly. He stood there innocently, unassuming, a single eyebrow raised at her display of drama. So much for finding out what that potion did.

“Do you enjoy getting the jump on people, devil?” She said waspishly, moving further away from the mess. “Gods, that stinks.”

“Sometimes. Mortals are much more likely to agree to certain things when they’re frightened,” Raphael purred. He tilted his head, taking a small whiff of the gas. “Hmm…it smells like peaches to me.”

Peaches, sure. “What do you want?” Tav crossed her arms. Never turn your back on a devil. Especially this one.

“Merely to see why my favourite future client isn’t celebrating with the rest of her merry band,” said Raphael. Tav noticed he was surreptitiously inhaling deeper sniffs of the potion, like a dog that had caught an interesting scent on the wind. He may not have realised he was doing it. “After all, you freed the angel. You struck down the avatar of a God. One would think a hero of such calibre would at least raise a glass or two in victory, no?”

“I don’t like crowds,” muttered Tav, keenly aware he was mocking her. He was always mocking her. Raphael shifted his feet, coming just a bit closer.

“Yes, I know,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “I know a lot about you, Tav. I know the kinds of people you used to do business with before the mindflayers took you. I know the kind of work you did. I know where you came from, and where you were going before all of this.”

“What?” Tav stared at him, aghast. A mix of horror and, inexplicably, intrigue squirmed in her belly. How did he know these things? Why did he know these things? Something was off, though. Raphael seemed, for a brief moment, as shocked by his words as she.

“All that is to say…” He adjusted his collar. Loosened it. “Hells. Why is it so damn warm all of a sudden?”

In a crumbling tower, battered by the chilling miasma of the shadow curse, the only warmth came from the Infernal himself. “It’s cold up here,” Tav said slowly. A bead of sweat rolled down Raphael’s temple in contrast. “Are…you okay?”

“What a stupid question,” the devil snapped. He was becoming flustered, a fetching flush spreading across his harsh cheeks and the bridge of his handsome nose. “I must return to the Hells. Goodbye.”

He clicked his fingers, intending to disappear in a burst of hellfire as usual, but nothing happened. A mere sputtering of sparks from his fingertips fluttered and died. Outraged, Raphael clicked them again, harder, as Tav watched with mounting anxiety. No portal opened. The devil went nowhere.

“Foolish little bint,” he snarled at her. Revealed his pointed canines when he sneered. Tav saw his pupils were rapidly expanding, consuming the sweet brown of his human irises. “What was in that bottle you dropped?”

“I don’t know,” Tav bit back. Always aggressive when she felt cornered. “And you’re the reason I dropped it in the first place. Maybe this will teach you to stop needlessly scaring people, though I bloody doubt it.”

“If you don’t watch your tongue when you speak to me, I’ll pluck it out of your filthy mouth,” Raphael threatened, low and throatily. He tugged his collar open completely, revealing his neck and some teasing wisps of chest hair.

“Oh I see, the devil’s feeling a bit poorly so he finally shows his true colours,” crooned Tav. “It’s about time. I was getting tired of your gentleman act, you know.”

“Ah…to have your skin hanging on a hook in my foyer would be such a delight…” Rumbled the devil, almost absently. He began to unfasten the buttons of his jacket.

“What are you doing?!” Barked Tav. He didn’t answer. Tossed his coat aside and moved onto the buttons of his fancy white shirt. It was damp with sweat – and this was when Tav noticed the bulge between Raphael’s legs. His cock, hard and proud, strained in the fabric of his trousers. A hot spike of desire shot through Tav’s body. “Oh, shit…”

The potion must have been some kind of demented aphrodisiac, made potent enough over time that just a few inhales was all it took. It must’ve been pretty strong indeed if Raphael was crumbling under its influence so fast. Except it wasn’t affecting Tav. She could admit – only to herself – that her tingles of arousal looking at Raphael’s big, deft, tawny hands work the small buttons of his clothes, at the glistening, hairy skin of his chest as he opened his shirt, at his puffy dark nipples, at the trail of fuzz going down his soft middle to vanish below his belt, at the outline of his erection, at the wet spot its leaking head made on his trousers…they were on Tav alone. She’d been attracted to the smarmy devil from the start.

Figuring all this out, Tav had one thing to consider as Raphael reached for his belt: what did she do?

Indulge, of course. An opportunity like this only appeared once in a lifetime. A street cat like Tav knew it better than most.

So she bit her lip, breath baited, as Raphael freed his cock and balls, both fat with need. Ogled as he furiously, shamelessly, rubbed his prick, squeezed its swollen sticky dark pink head, his tight scrotum bouncing with the force, staring right at her as he did. Sighed when he came in moments, grunting, cum spilling on the ground, all over his knuckles, everywhere. His expression was stormy, devoid of relief or rapture, his cock refusing to soften.

“It’s not enough,” he hissed even as he milked more cum from himself in oozing pearls that lazily trickled between his glans, teeth bared in frustration. “It’s not enough.”

He looked furious, frantic, frayed, and so, so fuckable.

“Come here, then,” said Tav, distantly aware of how breathy she sounded, “let’s try something else.”

He was on her in a second. A waiting predator pouncing on its prey. Tav could barely gasp before he was swallowing her mouth in harsh, biting kisses, one hand fisting the hair at the back of her head, the other holding her hip with bruising strength. Tav greedily put her hands all over him, yanking his silky too-perfect hair, scratching his slick chest and stomach, crushing handfuls of his pliant backside. He was like a furnace, radiating stifling heat. He smelled like cherries and musky sweat. So human, but for the hint of sulphur he simply couldn’t hide. His tongue tasted like wine and fire when he forced it into her mouth, hungrily licking behind her teeth. He was a man unravelling, so much desire pressed beneath the surface just waiting for an excuse like this to burst free, and Tav wanted to see it all.

“Wretch,” Raphael spat when they broke apart. The ribbons of saliva connecting their lips were tinged red. He’d bitten her bloody. “Invading my thoughts…my dreams…and now my body…”

“Your fault,” Tav retorted, crying out when he jerked her head back, rolling his aching prick against her clothed sex.

“Inside,” he growled, losing coherence, “need to be inside…”

He manhandled her, pushing her onto a nearby broken desk. With one hand, and in one yank, he pulled her trousers and smallclothes down to her ankles. Tav heard fabric rip but couldn’t find the will to care. The eerie, twisted moonlight coming in from jagged cracks in the stone, the cursed lands’ grotesque long shadows – these things stretched and warped Raphael’s silhouette into the monster he truly was. Tav swore she felt claws, fangs, horns, saw the glint of yellow eyes…but he was still a man, driven and desperate, who pried her thighs open and stuffed her full of his cock, who rocked up on the balls of his feet to get as deep inside her cunt as possible.

“Fuck,” she groaned, raking her fingernails down his back. She was wet and willing, but it had been a while, he’d entered her without preamble, and his cock was thick. He was unforgiving, selfish, searching only for his own pleasure. The stretch, the burn, as he used her, fucking her hard, fast, violent, was hideous and exquisite. She clenched her cunt around his cock and he came immediately, snorting into her ear like a rutting bull. Filled her womb with hot liquid release. She could feel it spurting out of his cock with every throb. He had so much to give, and still he didn’t stop. Couldn’t. Much to Tav’s delight.

There would be Hell to pay when this was over.

[jakeswifez]

THE COLLAR | s.jaeyun

୨୧ -› when sunghoon's little sister will meet her virtual best friend after 10 years, but everything goes wrong.

୨୧ -› brother's best friend!jake x best friend's sister!reader]

Warning -› possessive brother's best friend, lies, "enemies" for lovers, death threats, obscenity, loss of virginity, oral sex (both), horseback riding, semi!public sex, in the pool...

It was just another day at school, as I was Sunghoon's sister I had to deliver letters to him and his friends, because the girls in my class didn't have the courage.

"- y/n, could you give this letter to Jake, I can't stay around him for long." Of course, I'm not going to lie to myself, I have a crush on SimJaeyun, I've felt this since I was 8 years old when my brother took him home to play video games

"'- I'll give it to you yuna, you can leave it to me" I gave her a genuine smile because I wouldn't get mad at her because of that, because in everyone's mind Jake and I are enemies who talk out of obligation because of my brother, no I can deny it, I think Jake hates me, I don't know...he looks at me strange, so I have to pretend that I hate him, even though it's the opposite.

I got up immediately because the bell rang, I took the letter and left my room heading towards the lockers. From afar I see my brother and his friends and I go to him, immediately handing the letter to Jake.

"-wow, Park y/n handing me letters, this is new, don't be jealous, sunghoon" he said laughing ironically at my brother, I rolled my eyes at his stupid idea

"- I'm sorry jaeyun, but even dead I wouldn't write a letter to you, instead I would much rather write to Jay" I said with venom on my lips, I can't deny it, Park Jay was very attractive I had a crush on him in teaching medium, but nothing that would last.

He soon made a strange face as he turned away, saying something that I couldn't hear very well, but who cares, it won't change anything in my life. I turned to sunghoon saying that I was going to meet chaewon, leaving there heading towards the field I felt the back of my neck burning, but who cares, right?

"- y/nn, come here" I heard chaewon screaming for me so I went to the place and sat down with her

"- well, do you have any news about wonbin? I heard that he will come here to see you, I'm very excited, finally we will meet" she said, jumping excitedly, as she was always curious to know who the mysterious boy was who sent me messages all the time.

"- yes, I'm excited too, I've been waiting for this for ten years, but he's coming next week, because he has a football game at his school" I said looking at Chaewon because it seemed like she was happy for me , I always told her that he helped me in the best moments of my life, in the ups and downs, those that I never managed to talk about with my brother or my parents.

"- it won't take that long then, but did you finally hear the news?" she said excitedly, I always wonder where all this excitement comes from, but I think it's part of her personality

"- I didn't know, why?" I asked myself curiously, because nothing ever happens at this school.

"- jay is having a party at his house after the game, you're going to come with me, right? you know I don't like going alone" oh no, she looked at me with those puppy dog eyes, idiot, she knows that's my point weak

"- I wouldn't go if you weren't, but how are you going to do what" I said in defeat because those eyes always win me over

"- THANK GOD, after years you're going to a party with me" she said exaggeratedly because she knows very well that I just didn't go to the other one because I had injured my ankle.

"- I'll see you at the game then y/n, I'll meet you at 1 o'clock in the afternoon??" I wave slightly and go straight to my brother's car to wait for him, as he always talks too much with Jake.

After 5 minutes I see him and Jake coming towards us in the car, as Jake is coming along I already know he will sleep at home, as always, 1 day before the game he stays at home, I think this is useless, but what can I do?

I got in the car without saying anything because I didn't want to include myself in their conversation, but sunghoon asks me a question

"- y/n, are you going to the game tomorrow?" he asked looking in the rearview mirror with a questioning look.

"- yes I will, I will go with chaewon she asked me to go" I immediately heard some giggles

"- I thought you were going to be talking to your little friend y/n, news" Jaeyun said between nasal laughs

"- yes, I wanted to, but he also has a game to play, you're not the only one Jaeyun" I said, picking up my things as I had already arrived home, getting out of the car I heard a bit of my brother's conversation

"- jake don't do that man, you know she gets angry easily, seeing you do that doesn't even seem like it...." I only heard half-heartedly because I closed the door seconds later, entering my room and sitting on my dresser to take off my makeup, until I heard a notification coming from my cell phone.

• wonbin sent you a message.

I immediately had a smile on my face, as I hadn't spoken to him since early in the morning.

*- hi dear, how are you??

I immediately replied

*-hi wonbin, I'm fine and you? So, are you looking forward to tomorrow's game?

*-Well I can't deny it, I'm really looking forward to the game, but I know I'll do well

*- convinced, you see, but I'm going to sleep, I'm exhausted, tomorrow I'm going to my brother's game too, I'm already feeling a headache

*- you're right, I need to sleep too, my trainer wants me to be there at 10 am, honestly I'm lazy, but what can I do, good luck to your brother tomorrow, good night kitten

*- good night

After I sent my last message to wonbin I heard a knock on the door, I looked up and saw someone unexpected

Sim jaeyun

"- what are you doing here jaeyun, go to my brother's room" I said getting ready for bed, I heard laughter near me and I immediately turned back.

"- calm down kitten, don't be like that, I was just going to ask you a question" he said placing his hand on my cheek lightly running his thumb over my skin.

"- then speak quickly, I'm dying of sleep" he looked at me and then asked

"- are you going to Jay's party?" the question was unexpected, I almost couldn't pay attention because his hand on my face was giving me goosebumps

the sexual tension just building in the air, making me nervous

"- yes I will, why?" With a touch of confidence I managed to answer him, but soon I felt him approaching my face, heading towards my ear

"- good to know, I'll see you there, kitten" then he walked away and went straight to my brother's room, I was stunned by what happened seconds ago, why is he acting like this

I immediately lay down and thought [Sim jaeyun is very strange] I thought to myself before falling asleep

First thing in the morning, I was woken up by several messages from wonbin

• 9+ wonbin messages

I opened it immediately to find out what happened

*- good morning sleepyhead *- I received that necklace you sent me *- is it a star? *- you are the best girl *- does she have a pair??

I was confused because the necklace would arrive after 5 days, as I sent it yesterday morning, I thought it was strange.

*- Good Morning *- has it arrived yet?? wow that was literally quick I thought it would arrive in 3-5 days, but I'm glad you liked it *- and yes, it's a pair lol, yours is a star and mine is a moon, because you are the brightest star I've ever seen

*- eww, very cliche

*- WONBIN!!!

*- calm down, I'm joking, kitten lol, my trainer is calling me, I'm going, bye *- calm down, I'm joking, kitten lol, my trainer is calling me, I'm going, bye

I turned off my cell phone and went straight to the shower because in a little while I was going to meet chaewon

wearing a white skirt with my brother's team shirt, I put on light makeup because I would have to go back to get ready for the party together with chaewon, I put on my sneakers and went to the living room to wait for her

I soon heard a knock on the door, I grabbed my things and opened the door.

"- y/n in heaven, you look amazing as always, ready to go girl??" she said with coke in hand, then handing me one

"- of course" he said with a smile on his face before leaving

Arriving at the field, it was literally full, but there is always a corner reserved for me at the front, after asking people for permission I soon sat down to watch the game

nothing interesting happened during the game, until jaeyun scores a bicycle goal and celebrates with that beautiful smile of his that makes my knees go weak

"- wow girl, close your mouth or mosquitoes don't come in" she said mocking me, I straightened my posture looking at her

"- stop talking nonsense chaewon" she rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the game

the game ended 3x1 for us I was happy for my brother, seeing him smile like that makes me feel happy for him, but soon I changed the direction of my eyes to Jake, he looked so handsome with that smile and shining eyes, but I soon diverted my attention with chaewon asking me to get ice cream before we packed up

I sat in the store chair and soon an attendant with feline eyes came to assist us

"- hello, have you already chosen your preferences??" he said with a smile on his face showing his dimples on his cheeks

"- oh, yes, I would like flaky ice cream and you y/n?" She said looking in my direction catching my attention

"- um, I would like strawberry ice cream please!" I said nervously because I thought he was really cute.

"'- ok! would you like anything else?" He looked in my direction and I immediately spoke

"- could I know your name?? sorry if you feel uncomfortable" I said embarrassed

"- oh okay, my name is jungwon, and yours, miss?"

"- my name is y/n, nice to meet you"

"- the pleasure is all mine y/n, I'll prepare your orders and be right back" he said going directly to the counter

I then looked towards chaewon seeing the mischievous smile on her face

"- shut up chaewon" I said

"- but I didn't say anything" she said between smiles

after a few minutes you saw jugwon returning to your table with your orders, he placed the orders on the table and then gave you a wink

you felt your heart skip a beat, and your face turned red

"- you fall in love very quickly y/n" you whispered shut up to her and started to enjoy your ice cream

"- oh, y/n, he left you a note" she pointed to the note next to her bowl and you immediately took it

"XX XXXXX-XXXX" call me ❤️

You got home, took a shower and went to change, I did my makeup, not too strong but not too soft, soon I heard Chaewon come back from the shower

"- hey y/n, did you send a message to jungwon??" she said

"- I'll send it now, I'm just going to apply some lip gloss" I did and then added his number to my phone

*-hii, it's me y/n!

Surprisingly he responded very quickly

*-hii y/n, how are you?

*-I'm fine, what are you doing??

*-I'm getting ready for my friend Jay's party, and you?

*- what a coincidence!! I'll be there too lol

*-that's good, I'll see you there then

*- ok, bye

*- see you soon, princess

"- chaewon from heaven, jungwon is also going to the party!!"

"- that's great!! Just don't get too excited maybe your brother won't like it very much"

"you can leave it" I told her putting on my short black dress, showing too much skin and wearing my heels

Arriving at the crowded party, we were immediately greeted by the jay

"-y/n, you came, you wonderful"He said, wrapping his arms around your waist and squeezing

"- you too park" you said putting your arms around him

"- ok ok, let's go y/n, we have to get our drinks"

"meet me later?" Jay asks in my ear, I nod slightly and he smiles sideways

I went towards the kitchen with Chaewon to get the drinks, we took them and went to look for my brother

Then I see him and I go towards him, and he looks to the side and sees me, He looked at my clothes not very happy

"why did you come with that outfit y/n" he said looking into my eyes but I didn't care and went to greet the people

After a while, I got a little drunk, but I was still conscious, I went to the dance floor and started dancing, after a while I felt someone's hand on my hip

"you look beautiful y/n" I hear a familiar voice in my ear, I look over my shoulder and see Jungwon

"so you came jungwon" I said touching his chest

"but of course, I was giving up but you said you would come" he said dancing with you

you started to dance rubbing against her, and soon you heard a moan in your ear

"holy shit y/n, you dance really well" you looked at him and looked at the bulge in his pants and then pulled him to a distant place

"the kitten was excited?? I'll help you with that" you immediately pulled him in for a kiss, asking for passage with your tongue which he accepted with open arms, he squeezed your waist pulling you closer so you could feel his bulge

You soon got on your knees and massaged him over his pants and he soon moaned slyly

pulling down his pants along with his boxer shorts his dick jumped almost hitting his face, you spat on your hand and started caressing him

"please y/n, I need you" he said slyly, as much as you want him you won't lose your virginity in the bathroom, so you decided to use your mouth

You stuck your tongue out and put him in, he soon let out a moan, accelerating his pace, his legs began to tremble with so much pleasure, he pulled the back of your head closer to his pelvis making you choke.

"I'm coming y/n...I'm coming" he said, letting out a loud and sly moan, you sped up and gave him a blowjob, which made him release his orgasm deep in his throat, moaning loudly

You took him out of your mouth, and he fixed his pants and then pulled you in for a kiss.

"you did so good for me princess, do you want me to reward you?"

"no need jungwon, I appreciate it but my brother is already going to look for me, will I see you around?"

"definitely" he left a peck on your lips and walked away

you went to the kitchen to drink some water, and soon you heard a laugh, You turned back and soon saw Jake

"what a beautiful performance you did with that boy, I didn't know you were like that, kitten "he said with a teasing smile on his face

"I hope you keep your mouth shut" you looked at him and noticed something shiny on his neck, it looked like....no..it couldn't be, before he said something you questioned

"jaeyun, what necklace is that around your neck?" you said calmly, you looked at his wide eyes and you already knew the answer.

jake was wonbin

" so does that mean you lied to me the whole time? I trusted you " you tremble

"y/n no, it's not that, it's just" you immediately interrupted him

"that's what!!! fuck jake, you literally impersonated someone I don't even know now!! you fooled me for 10 years!! do you understand that?!" You said with anger in your eyes.

"the reason is because I'm fucking in love with you!! I've been in love with you since I was a child!! I literally had to put up with you being with these useless boys for years!! now I had to witness you giving that son of a bitch a blowjob" he He came closer pinning you to the wall making you look at him scared.

“you belong to me y/n, you always belonged to me!!” He said grabbing your wrist pulling you to the guest room, entering the room he soon threw you on the bed and locked the door

"Now I'm going to show you, kitten, who you belong to" he said hovering over you, kissing you roughly

"fuck I've been waiting for this for years kitten, I love you so much, if I see you with him I'll kill him, do you understand?!" He didn't hear any response and slapped your ass, soon hearing a moan coming from you.

"with words princess"

"yes, I understand...jake, I belong only to you"

Satisfied with your answer, he takes off your shirt and then helps you take off yours, then bends down to kiss your neck, leaving several marks on it.

Ele abriu seu sutiã e começou a chupar seu mamilo, recebendo vários gemidos seus.

He kissed my breasts going to my belly, while he kissed my belly he pulled down my panties

"how beautiful you are, kitten, how did you hide this from me, hmm" he put my legs on his shoulder and I started kissing my clitoris, starting to suck it, moving his tongue down to my entrance

"so good..hm" I said between moans, as he accelerated his tongue at my entrance making me feel that knot in my belly

"are you close kitten?" sucking my clit more fiercely making me moan loudly

"I'm close jaeyun, ah" my orgasm arrived making a mess on his beautiful face, he licked everything and got up to give me a kiss

"you have amazing taste kitten, I could stay there for hours" placing me underneath him while he placed his dick at my entrance

"hm, jake...I'm a virgin" I said immediately for fear of hurting, he looked at me with wide eyes

"so I'm going to be your first time?..I'm going to make sure this is your first time with me and forever" he said with possessiveness in his voice

He wrapped my legs around his hips, and caressed my hips

"I'm going to take it easy at first, okay, just don't tense up, otherwise it won't hurt more" he placed his dick at my entrance again and started to penetrate, I felt discomfort at first and a burning sensation but I didn't want to stop

"you're so tight..." he moaned after his cock was inside me, he waited a few minutes for me to get used to it

"can you move, please" he shook his hips calmly, but then he started accelerating

"do you think that boy's dick would satisfy like mine? huh, kitten?" he spoke rudely while looking at me, speeding up even more, until he made me feel him in my womb

"no... no jake.." I said moaning slyly as the pleasure was overwhelming, he placed his hand below my navel and squeezed

"you feel that, it's my dick buried deep inside you" I looked at my belly as I saw his dick hitting my skin, I fell with my head back moaning loudly as my second orgasm was approaching

"your pussy is so good kitten, it was made for me" he moaned loudly as he accelerated his pace, making us feel enchanting pleasure "I'm close y/n, I'm coming, I'm going to bury my children deep in your pussy so you can get pregnant with me so no other man can look at you, only me" after he said that I spilled on top of him, my juices running down his my pussy to my legs, meanwhile Jake was perceiving his high, still making me moan with the overstimulation

"I'm coming...calm down...I'm coming" I felt his cock twitch inside me as he moaned slyly on top of me

He fell next to me and pulled me into his chest, stroking my hair, I felt so loved at that moment.

"you did so well for me kitten, I love you" he got up and went to the bathroom getting a wet towel to clean me up

After cleaning me, he told me to change because my brother was going to look for me, I put my dress back on and started to fix my hair.

At the moment Jake was putting on his shirt because that was the last piece of clothing he was missing, the door opened, and who was there?

park sunghoon...my brother

"oh sorry..." he looked at my face then at jake immediately his eyes went dark

"What the fuck!!" it's me and jaeyun are dead now.

part 2??

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Babydoll | Bucky x Reader | Mutually Beneficial AU

After suggesting that you embark on a dom/sub relationship, Bucky reads about collars and gets you a gift.

Warnings: 18+, d/s themes, collaring, pet names & honourifics, suggestion of sex.

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Mutually Beneficial Masterlist

Your relationship with Bucky was no secret to the rest of the team. If you were together you were touching, staying in each others spheres, gravitating to each other and that was before you had made it official two weeks ago.

There was, however, a side to your relationship the others didn't know so much about. Since the day you met it'd been clear Bucky liked to be in control and honestly you loved it. Being an Agent was hard work, stressful and wearing. Knowing that when your suit came off, and sometimes when it was still on, you didn't have to think of anything else gave you a deep sense of peace.

He was a commanding officer in the field so that felt perfectly natural, but he was very much a commander in the rest of your relationship too. It started small, making sure you ate and drank enough during the day, ensuring you were keeping up your good habits, making space for your hobbies. He was never angry when you didn't, but he'd offer incentives if you did. He'd say he was proud of you, call you his good girl and kiss your forehead, cheek, lips gently.

Then one day he joked he'd spank you for talking back in the field and you melted instantly, knees hitting the floor, forehead resting reverently on his leg and you apologised "I'm sorry, Sarge," you whispered. Not Bucky, not even James, "Sarge". And he was gone too, lost in the thought of you being his completely.

You had mentioned dom and sub dynamics to him before, playfully, and he'd jumped at the idea. It was very much early days, building up your likes and dislikes, but no relationship had ever felt so right as being Bucky's Babydoll.

In return Bucky liked being able to call the shots in his life, and that you trusted him completely gave him a renewed sense of himself. He was a decision maker, a care taker, a lover and it'd been such a long time since he'd been allowed to flex this side of himself that he had thrown himself into it engulfing you in his care and attention.

"You okay, Sarge?" You whispered in his ear, snuggled into his side on the sofa while the credits rolled on the Saturday morning kids film you'd both been dozing to.

He jolted a little, coming back to himself, the memory of your shining eyes looking up at him from the floor the night before distracting him.

"Of course, Doll, I'm with you" he kissed the top of your head, his hand warm on your back, holding you close against his firm side. The muscles of his chest jumping as you traced patterns through his shirt.

"Just looked like you were lost for a moment." You kissed his neck, one hand fiddling with the tags around his neck.

"I was, but I'm back now." He assured.

"What were you thinking about?" You traced the edges of his dog tags, running your hand over his chest agasin, down towards his stomach, but no lower, not without permission.

"Just you. How you make me feel. I like knowing you trust me, having you to look after. Makes me feel...whole again. Like I should." You felt your face heat from his words, the praise and love evident in every syllable.

"I like knowing I have you, that you've always got my back and my best interests at heart. That you look after me. You make me whole too," you rubbed your face into the side of his chest, burying yourself deeper in his warmth.

"Yeah? You like it when I take care of you, Babydoll?" He teased, kissing the top of your head and squeezing your sides.

"Of course I do. I need you, Sarge."

"Can I give you something. Something to show you're mine?" You shivered a little, Bucky calling you 'mine' was always in private and it made you feel hot all over to think he'd want to give you something permanent, demonstrable.

"Yes," you breathed back.

Bucky sat you both up pulling a box from his pocket and crossing his legs so you could sit face to face. "I got you a necklace," he handed the box over almost shyly, the blue velvet felt plush as you flipped it open.

Inside was a short gold chain with a little circular disk on. Inscribed on one side was 'Babydoll' with your birth stone underneath, your face lit up instantly at the thought of wearing it for him, of feeling his affection so close to you.

"Oh Bucky," you closed your eyes, bringing the box up to your heart.

"You don't have to wear it all the time if you don't want to. You don't have to wear it at all. But, I was reading about what you said, and then about collars. I'd really like if you wore it all the time. What do you think?"

"I love it," you grinned.

"You do?"

"Yes, Sir," you purred back, dropping your eyes demurely. He hitched his breath pulling you into his lap.

"And, if you like, maybe I could put one of my tags on it?"

"Yes!"

He pulled his tags over his head, sliding the extra tag off and onto the thin gold chain.

"Turn around, Doll," you slid out of his lap onto the floor between his thighs so he could wrap the chain around your neck.

It sat snug against the base of your throat, the silver disk laying over the top of Bucky's tag. You let your hand drift over the cool metal and met Bucky's on your sternum.

"Let me see?" He tipped your chin up between his finger and thumb with one hand, his metal fingers tracing the chain with the other. "You look beautiful."

Bucky held your hips as you climbed back into his lap again, sighing with approval.

"Sarge, its perfect." You shut your eyes at the feel of the cold metal, reminding you of Bucky's hand, firm yet loving. He growled, pulling you close by tugging on the chain, holding you still while he kissed you.

"No, Babydoll, you're perfect"

[tossawary]

Every time I see or otherwise imagine a Daemon AU (a story borrowing the concept of "physical soul animals" from the "His Dark Materials" book series), I get distracted thinking about aaaaall the logistical issues and cultural changes that would happen if the world was different in this way. Especially if it's a story that's set in the modern day!

Mostly, I'm distracted by cultural changes that are, uh, let's go with "silly". Like, I think people would put in cat doors and ramps for their daemons. I think people would put their turtle daemons on hot wheel cars and let their rat daemons drive miniature cars. I think some miserable people would be unreasonably outraged by "assistive devices" for daemons and call it unnatural. I think people would post online like, "I just watched my grandma's elderly dog daemon spend ten minutes trying to climb onto the couch." I think that there would be Tumblr polls asking: "Are daemons allowed on the furniture in your house?" And some people would be like, "Absolutely not, that's disgusting," and other people would be like, "Yes?! Of course?!?!?!"

I think some people would put their daemons in outfits. I think some people would wear MATCHING outfits with their daemons. I think there would be a huge market for daemon accessories like collars and scarves. I think you could find someone who would argue to their dying breath that putting a collar on your daemon is a form of abusing yourself. I think there would be daemons who would straight up hate wearing anything, especially the daemons of young children, and shed collars immediately. I think some people would get their daemon's ears pierced.

I think people would take photos of their daemons getting stuck in stupid places. I think people would take photos of their daemons making silly expressions. I think these photos would be used as memes. I think this would be included in the "don't take photos of strangers and post them online???" arguments. I think some people would try to get animals that are the same as their daemon forms so that their daemon could have a "friend". I think the exotic pet trade in this world would be horrible, especially in relation to modelling and acting industries, and that some people and their daemons would work as "substitute daemon actors".

I think that people would judge other people based on their daemons, sure. I also think that daemons are incorporated into things like astrology and matchmaking in ways that our world can't imagine. "Oh, I only date guys with dog daemons. Guys with cat daemons are too feminine," would be a constant sexist / homophobic sitcom joke and also a real thing people would say. There would be sex books written taking daemons into account and I'm not going to get into it more than that except to say...

The furry "discourse" that must exist in a Modern Daemon AU is operating on a level that we cannot possibly fathom.

Most of this stuff is not relevant for most Daemon AUs, but I feel like when doing any kind of cultural worldbuilding, we must face the fact that many people love and hate nothing more than to sincerely and insincerely get into extensive Twitter arguments over pointless bullshit. And also, on a lighter note, that "Draw yourself and your daemon!" would be a classic Day 1 of school activity for children. Confession blogs would have people saying, "My mom and aunt and grandma all have parrot daemons, so until I was four, I genuinely thought all women had bird daemons. When I met a woman with an iguana daemon in a grocery store, I asked her what kind of bird it was supposed to be. My mom has laughingly brought it up every few weeks for the past twenty years."

[lokisgoodgirl]

Comfort & Joy: The Lakes [Loki x Reader]

The Lakes Masterlist / Regular Masterlist Summary: (9) Roll up, roll up for the Stark Christmas Jamboree. Where candied nuts and cunning plans both come with an extra sprinkling of festive sweetness. (w/c 7.8k) Warnings: Minors DNI. Usual Lakes fare. Humour, Asgardian lore, fluff, all the feels. Smut references. A/N: This is the final final edition of The Lakes.

“Remind me, what named day is this in your charming yuletide festivities?” Loki inquired as you stepped out the revolving door of the Tower.

Charming. You smiled.

Last year it would have been any number of synonyms for stupid. You could hear them, see his lips curling the words from memory. Gratuitous. Senseless. Superfluent. Foolish.

But that was your problem, you recognised, not his.

“I don’t think it has one officially,” you shivered, nestling your chin deeper into the scarf. Fuck, it was cold today. “But I call it Christmas Eve, Eve.”

You sighed, watching crowds of the general populous making their way in shuffling merriment towards the Christmas market. No, not market. Festive Jamboree.

Tony had taken it upon himself to create a mini-wonderland right outside the Tower for one day only, all proceeds to the local children’s hospital.

A ferris wheel rose at the end of the cordoned street, every carriage packed. The smell of hot-dogs and caramelised almonds filled the air, old-time speakers tied to high lamps blaring Andy Williams at a volume that couldn’t be code compliant. “Lighten up, darling” Loki chirped as a gloved hand laced with your own. You turned to him, forcing a smile through the nerves. He looked phenomenal. A high collared coat of darkest green framed his cheekbones, pink tipped in the sudden chill. The one you’d seen in the window. You couldn’t resist. But when it came to Loki, what else was new?

He’d popped the collar, loose strands of onyx hair tumbling over the thick of his scarf. The one you’d bought him, of course.

Against the pale of his skin, dark brows peaked above a lowered fan of lashes while his gaze lingered on your intertwined digits. He raised the back of your hand to his lips, kissing it firmly.

“This will be fun,” he murmured against your glove with a knowing glint. “Have you planned...something?” you laughed. “Other than the thing.”

The nerves were fading, finally. He pressed his free hand against his chest in mock-hurt. “You wound me with your suspicions, madam” he purred, playful insolence thick in his tone. He sniffed, raising his chin. “I am merely imbibed with the spirit of the season.” Mid-giggle, your whole body rocked forwards as two hands shook your shoulders from behind. “Merry Christmas Eve Eve, sister!” Thor boomed in your ear. There was ringing. Thor looked good. He smelled good. And blessedly for now at least, there were no crumbs in his beard. “And to you, brother” Loki said, smile widening.

Thor tilted his head, regarding Loki’s jovial demeanour with suspicion. “And to you, brother-” he rumbled. His interest was piqued. “What has my Sponge of a sibling in such a buoyant mood this fine December day?” “It’s Scrooge,” you corrected, grinning. Thor grinned back as all eyes fell on your lover.

Loki gaped, darting his gaze between you both.

“Scrooge?!” he scoffed incredulously. “In past years, perhaps. Yet despite your attempt to churl me, I shall take it as a compliment,” Loki said, squeezing your hand, “for I too was visited by three spirits and thus...changed forever.” Thor frowned, “spirits, says you?” “Yes, brother. Yourself, Rogers, and the spectre of that ghastly reclining chair.”

Thor chuckled, before being distracted by something deeper within the crowd. Or someone. He cleared his throat. “I must to the candied nuts, brother” he muttered formally.

Out the corner of your eye, you saw Rogers tip the nuts-vendor a quick salute as he nestled a fresh bag in his hand like a hamster. Heat steamed from the opening, wafting through frosty air. “Oh yes brother,” Loki drawled with equal gravitas. “The nuts will not eat themselves.” Thor squinted as a restrained smirk danced at Loki’s dimples. “Indeed,” the blonde replied, clearing his throat. “I shall see you at the bandstand anon.” And with a curt nod to you, he waddled hands in his pockets through the throng. You watched him go as Loki’s warm breath seeped down your neck, his mouth fastening to your pulse-point with a happy hum of pleasure. “You’re naughty,” you chided playfully. Loki nodded against your neck, the vibration of his agreement making you fizz. “And I have the knitwear to prove it,” he whispered. As you made your way through the crowd, Loki’s hand never left yours.

The two of you together were a familiar sight in Manhattan, and Avenger-fans on the whole had been beside themselves at news of your reunion. Confirmations had been slow. At you and Loki’s insistence, there had been no official statement. But the public had cottoned on eventually, with the help of the press.

Fans waited politely for pictures, nervously pulling at gloves and activating their cameras while you and Loki smiled and chatted. It was night and day from the way things used to be, while you stood on the sidelines amid a sea of bodies whipped into a frenzy by the god of mischief’s theatrical adulation.

Every so often, Loki would nuzzle your cheek; checking in. You’d squeeze his hand. One for all good, two for let’s go. You didn’t need that second squeeze today.

“With regret, we must depart for the afternoon’s questionable entertainment,” Loki announced. There was a chorus of disappointment, but he patted down the air.

“Please, join us-” he smiled to the crowd gathered around you, extending an arm towards the bandstand not thirty meters away. “Your participation will be most appreciated to drown out the subpar efforts of all of us. Truly, you will never look at us the same way, I guarantee it.” Despite having been erected overnight, the bandstand in the centre of the wonderland wouldn’t look out of place in Victorian England. Thin wrought iron pillars stretched upwards, twisting to an ornate canopy adorned with Christmas lights. Garlands wound up the pillars, twinkling sporadically. It was only 3pm, but the gathering darkness made them shine. A modest band of brass and strings had gathered beneath the canopy, instrument tune-ups peppering the chilly air.

And in front of it, in a semi-circle, microphones.

Steve stood to the side, handing booklets to a line of anxious looking avengers. Bucky, Wanda, Sam, Natas-

“I cannot believe we have to do this,” Bucky muttered ruefully as he threw his coat in the assigned box. “I can’t believe it. I actually can’t? Someone, fight me. Knock me out.” “We’re all in the same boat, Buck” Natasha lamented. She pulled at the baggy jumper hanging around her hips. Bucky looked down at his chest, pleading eyes meeting her stoic stare. “Fight me, Romanoff. Please.” “Don’t tempt me,” Natasha replied. Their jumpers were matching. Red, thick wool hiding any hint of the lithe muscle beneath. And stitched on them in winding, white-knitted lettering? Nice.

Your chest shook with the effort of holding in giggles. Even knowing what was coming, it hadn’t prepared you for the reality.

Looking around, you clocked each of your teammates in turn. Stark’s logic was thus – Avengers with a ‘harder’ reputation? Nice jumpers. And for those reputed to be on the softer side?-

“You’re wearing the wrong gosh-darn sweater, Laufeyson!” Steve hissed over your shoulder.

Both of you spun to face him. Steve’s arms were folded over the green version of the standard knit, the word Naughty emblazoned on his chest in white bobbling letters. Your shoulders were shaking now, too. “Don’t act like you're surprised, Rogers” Loki drawled. His coat hung off one long finger, before disappearing in a flash of seidr. “The public will not be fooled by Stark’s futile attempt at psychological subterfuge. I am simply getting ahead of the inevitable Tumblr edits.”

Steve’s chin snapped towards you. “Did you know about this?” he piped, flustered. You raised your eyebrows guiltily, making Steve’s hands fly in the air. “Perfect. Just heckin’ perfect. Why I outta-” “What seems to be the problem?” Thor’s voice boomed from behind. The words were accompanied by crunching, flecks of almond littering his green jumper like snow. You and Loki parted, making a four-square shoulder to shoulder and shuffling further towards safety from prying ears. “Laufeyson’s taken it upon himself to go against the agreed sweater-allocation and wear a Naughty, that’s what-” Steve bubbled bitterly.

Crimson had begun to creep up his cheekbones. A vein in his neck throbbed. Thor threw his head back with an almighty roar of laughter. Several almonds bounced from the bag in his hand from the force.

“Come now, Rogers ” he managed through gasps of mirth. “What did you expect? Tis just a silly rule, who cares?” He tossed an almond in the air, attempting to catch it in his mouth. It ricocheted off his eye. As Thor began blinking, Steve raised the clipboard in his hand. He tapped it violently. “I’m in charge of project managing this,” he hissed. “Laufeyson – change back to Nice.”

“Shan’t.” Loki quipped. Steve flushed deeper. “Laufeyson,” he warned. “Actually,” Loki started, enjoying the hushed tension. “I think you’ll find I am rather nice. You saw to that. So in truth, my sweater is fitting for this farce.” Steve’s eye began to twitch.

There was silence.

“Look at us, we’re like a little team," you offered, pointing to each of your green jumpers in turn. “Like the old days.”

Thor chuckled agreement as Loki and Steve stared each other down, a smile playing on Loki’s mouth that was irrevocably absent from the Captain’s. All four of you, it seemed, wore the Naughty uniform today. “In your case, as in mine, our knitwear reflects our essence perfectly my darling” Loki purred to you while his eyes narrowed towards a now vibrating super-soldier. “My naughty...naughty girl.” Steve sighed, hanging his head in resignation. “I told Tony this was a pooper of an idea,” he lamented. “It’s a disaster and it’s not even started.”

Thor’s hand clapped the captain’s shoulder in sympathy, lingering in a squeeze. Steve looked up at him, their eyes meeting.

The blonde god’s gaze widened slightly. You saw his fingers clench as his hand froze. In moments, he raised it; fluffing back his hair before sliding the hand into the pocket of his jeans.

“It’s only one sweater, Rogers” he muttered nervously. “Who cares?” Steve’s face fell, eyes darting to Thor’s crotch with a frown before rising back to his face. “I expected better of you, Odinson” was all he said before turning away.

Loki let out an exasperated sigh, elbowing his brother in the ribs. But Thor didn’t even flinch. His features had crumpled, spinning slowly as he watched the captain leave. His nuts? Forgotten.

But Steve didn’t see it. He was already making his way to the cluster of anxious looking Avengers huddled by the bandstand, examining carol music like they were Hydra files. “That could have gone better,” you whispered to Loki. The god frowned. His attempt to provoke his brother into siding with Rogers had not borne fruit. “Fear not,” Loki replied mysteriously as Thor produced a chicken drumstick from his jeans pocket. He tore off a chunk with a thousand-yard stare. Loki watched him in disbelief, continuing slowly. “There is still time to salvage this operation from the wreckage of my brother’s obstinance.” You gaze flitted between your team-mates. Bucky – Nice. Natasha- Nice. Clint – Naughty. Bruce – Naughty. Wanda – Nice. Sam – Naughty. Scott – Nice. Out the corner of your eye, you saw Loki swipe the half-ravaged chicken drumstick from Thor’s hold with hushed reprimand.

“What’s the big man wearing, I wonder?” you asked no one in particular. Loki snorted, “what else?” he said, nudging his head towards the Santa podium. There he was, Father Christmas aka. Tony Stark. Dressed in ray-bans and custom tailored suit, he looked suspiciously trim for a man in his position.

“Ah,” you smiled.

Loki’s smokey cologne filled your nostrils as he looped his arms around your body, pulling you tight to his chest. “It seems he will not be joining us in this public embarrassment,” he smirked before placing a warming kiss on your lips. Then to the corner of your mouth, then to the angle of your jaw. “Places!” a peaky-sounding Steve shouted, tapping a baton against the music stand at the head of the choir section. There was a deep line between his eyebrows that was decidedly un-Christmassy. “Norns,” Loki muttered. His hands slid down your body, fingers weaving through yours. “Ready?” he breathed nervously, your foreheads touching.

“Are you?” you replied.

Loki squeezed once.

The front row of the audience was made up of children, patients of the hospital. Cushioned folding chairs were laid in a half-crescent, two dozen of their smiling faces staring expectantly. Several of them sat in wheelchairs in the middle. Prime spot. One of them was wearing a pin-badge with Loki’s face on it. A young connoisseur, you thought with a smile.

Behind them, the growing crowd heaved. Sparkling Stark-Industries antlers filled your field of vision, handed out at the gates. There was a static hum, hundred of conversations and jokes and countless eyes inspecting each of you with anticipation. You could feel their excitement fizzing in the air while Bucky fidgeted beside you. Thinking about his solo you had no doubt. You rubbed his back sympathetically. He offered a weak smile of thanks. Steve tapped the pedestal again. “Avengers,” he announced with authority. The hushed whispers and small waves of the team to the crowd came to a halt. “One..two..” he mouthed the three.

All of a sudden, the air came alive with the sound of ten voices, stronger and louder and more melodic than you had expected. Unbelievably, it sounded...good. Hark! The Heralds, angels sing; Glory to the newborn king,

The brass quintet upon the bandstand soared. Even in practice, it hadn’t been this good. A Christmas miracle, you thought as you belted out the words in some semblance of tune.

Peace on earth and mercy mild, God and sinners reconcile, Your gaze flickered to the other side of the semi-circle, catching Loki’s.

He held his carol-sheet diligently at arms-length, not looking at it. But rather, at you.

He winked.

Steve had rightly separated you. The chances of him squeezing your ass in front of the sick children was just too high. What if one of them goes into shock, Steve had said. But in truth, it was the deep, soulful magnetism of Loki’s singing voice that posed the real risk. If you were standing beside him, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to contain yourself. You winked back. Beside Loki, Thor craned towards the paper his brother held.

Thor had memorised every carol. Every modern classic. Everything in the repertoire. You knew that for a fact.

For the last two weeks, ever since your conversation in the common room – you’d been able to hear him before you could see him. And not in the usual way. You’d become accustomed to hearing his theatrical rendition of Silent Night bouncing its ironic way around the tile of the gym, the hallways, seeping through floors. And what he lacked in vocal melody, he certainly made up for in enthusiasm.

No - in truth, as the God of Thunder stared at the music sheet, he was avoiding Steve’s appraising stare which darted to each of them in turn. Joyful, all ye nations rise, Join the triumph of the skies,

Reluctantly tearing your gaze away from your boyfriend, you focused back on the conductor. The crimson flush of his ears had ebbed. He was beginning to smile. Well, a little.

Hark! The Heralds, angels sing; Glory to the newborn king,

The carol continued. And then the next, and the next. Collection buckets that were being passed amongst the crowd began to overflow, the spectators indulging in a mix of swaying, singing, dancing.

With every song that passed, Bucky became more nervous, his voice a little higher.

You only faltered once during Winter Wonderland when you made the mistake of looking at Loki again. At some point, he had raked his hair back. Pink peaked at his cheekbones, his hip slouched casually, tapping his foot in time. One side of his sweater was concealed in the waistband of his dark chinos. A french-tuck, if you weren’t mistaken. It highlighted the sluttish creases that strained at his crotch.

Dark curls fell around the green knit, half-lidded eyes following each word as he sang it. You would fuck that sweater right off him later. Or maybe, he could keep it on...you mused. His smooth baritone slid over the words like a sled in morning’s first snow, to face unafraid, the plans that we made, walking in a- He looked up with a knowing side-smile in your direction. A sharp elbow in the ribs from Wanda made you realised you had lost your train of thought. Your mouth was open, but no words were coming out. “-winter wonderlaaaand,” you squawked out of time.

Steve’s eyes snapped to you, brow arched. He couldn’t complain, not really. Considering how well it was going. A brief erotically-charged moment of disassociation was the least he could expect, surely. As the song drew to a close with a flourish of conductor Rogers’ arms, the crowd burst into applause. With every passing number, it had become louder. You weren’t sure if there were more people, or if the mulled wine had been refilled. Steve spun to face the audience, growing darkness making the warm glow from fairylights create a halo around his blonde hair.

“And now...a very special treat,” he announced mysteriously to the expectant crowd. “Something very, very special indeed. I’ve heard it in rehearsal and golly, he’s just spiff.” Bucky’s feet began scuffing on the ground. He’s going to do a runner, you thought. But thankfully for Bucky, he had nothing to worry about.

The plan was for Barnes to perform a rousing rendition of Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) by Olivia Holt. Or Michael Buble, depending on the demographic. Backed up by the jingling ooo’s and aaa’s of the team of course. But despite Barnes initial enthusiasm, the thought of it had filled him with more horror each passing day.

Steve had been very excited about the whole affair. A grand finale for his orchestral debut, such as it was. And Bucky hadn’t the heart to tell him. “Buck?” you muttered out the corner of your mouth. You glanced at him, trying to be covert. He was sweating, staring blankly ahead. “Buck?” “Yuh.” Barnes mustered quietly as Steve began to move a microphone between the sick kids. Their little voices made your heart flutter. But you had a job to do. The weight of Loki’s concentration radiated from across the space between you. He was watching you and Bucky, completely still aside from one twitching finger and the small smile flickering at his dimples. You cleared your throat, leaning to the side towards the soldier. “In a few seconds you might feel a bit funny-” “I already feel a bit funny doll,” he murmured bitterly. “Yeah but...well, you’ll see. Just don’t freak out.” “Freak-what-now?” “Out-” “-Yah I got that-” he snapped, trying to turn towards you and failing. He tried to twist, but his shoulders wouldn’t budge. “What the-?” “Buck?” you repeated slowly. He met your eyes, the first shadows of fear creeping in. “When Steve calls you up, just shake your head. You have a little bit of movement in your neck. And you can talk a little. Just a little so I can check you’re okay. Okay?” Bucky raised his eyebrows in a grimacing caricature. You decided to assume that meant it was totally cool. “Who are hoo hurkin’ hor!?” he hissed in a wreckage of lisping syllables. His shoulders shook ever so slightly back and forth like a wound-up nutcracker as he tried and failed to move his feet. “Oh, no-” you said, realising he thought you’d been turned. “No, it’s just Loki’s magic. Don’t worry.” Bucky’s eyes widened.

‘Please welcome-’

“You’re off the hook with the song?” you chirped quietly, hoping it had the intended effect. Barnes stopped struggling. ‘-my friend, James Buchanan Barnes!’ A round of deafening applause snapped you from your bubble. Steve stood back at his podium, baton poised and ready for the band to begin.

Alongside the other Avengers, except Bucky, you bent down and picked up a sleigh bell carefully placed at your feet. You could beat someone to death with this thing, you thought as the chrome bells jingled beneath your hand. Wanda shot you a knowing glance, holding in a laugh.

The applause ebbed as James Buchanan Barnes remained rooted to the spot. His eyes darted side to side across the waiting crowd. He shook his head very, very slowly. Showtime, you thought. “I’m afraid he has a bit of stage-fright,” you explained loudly. Collective disappointment hummed in the air. Steve’s face flushed an immediate shade of fuchsia, features hardening. You could see the cogs in his brain turn, a victorious glittering finale slipping from his grasp. His lips puckered, sucking in his cheeks. “I’m sure with a little...encouragement,” Steve said with a grimacing smile, raising his arms. The crowd roared back to life.

Bucky shook his head, a bit faster this time. Rogers head lowered, the breath from his sigh of exasperation clouding around his face. “If I may...” came Loki’s calm drawl from across the line-up. It dripped with sensual showmanship, treacleish tones sending an immediate flood of desire leaking into your panties.

Men and women in the front rows grasped at each other, gawking as if suddenly seeing him for the first time. It doesn’t get any easier folks, you thought with a smile. “My brother here knows the arrangement by heart,” Loki continued. “The lyrics and suchlike- I’m sure he would be happy to relieve Barnes of his duties-”

Mutters of excitement spread through the crowd like a mexican wave. Thor immediately turned his back to the audience, muttering something at surprisingly hushed volume in his brother’s ear. Loki listened diligently, holding up a penitent finger to the crowd. Steve’s arms were folded, storm-clouds knitting his brow. The foot had begun to tap. “My brother makes the valid point that of the two of us, I am the more musically inclined-” Loki began, gracefully gripping Thor’s shoulders and spinning him back to face the audience.

He brushed his brother’s collar, removing the last of the almond crumbs which resided there. A smile you knew all too well stretched across Loki’s lips as he looked deep into Thor’s eyes, willing him to understand. “But alas,” Loki purred, “I know not the words.” And perhaps these words will heal, Loki thought.

Loki held his breath as Thor began to gingerly shuffle forwards, tugging at the hem of his Naughty- emblazoned jumper. If father could see us now, Loki mused with a shiver as his brother gripped the microphone.

The crowd was beginning to stomp in appreciation, driven into a frenzy by the turn of events. Thor gave a small wave, bashful smile growing wider as people began to whistle. Loki turned his attention to Rogers, standing stiff and poised with baton in the air. He gave it a singular flourish, counting down from three. The crowd fell silent.

Loki saw the moment that Steve and Thor’s eyes met. It seemed to make every fairy bulb glow a little brighter in the darkness, sparks of hope spreading like embers from a fire, fluttering upwards in a night sky. Please brother, Loki pleaded silently as he raised his sleigh bell. Don’t arse this up. He suddenly wondered if Thor had felt this way during their time at the cottage. Loki supposed that he had. The brass band sprang to life, drums making an entrance. (Christmaaaas) Loki sang suddenly with the others. Nine voices harmonised as one.

Thor panicked, pulling the microphone to his mouth. “Snow is...coming down...uh-oof-” he spluttered, the cable tangling around his shoe. (Christmaaaaas) they sang, cringing slightly.

One line in, and Loki had almost lost all hope. “I'm watching it faaaaall” Thor crooned in bass – a little more tunefully. (Christmaaaas) “Lots of...very lovely and festive, yes – you...people aro-hounnnd,” (Christmaaaas) Loki sang, a smile beginning to spread as his brother came alive. He was pointing at the children, giggles and squeals peppering the air. The sleigh bell beat against his palm in time with his brother’s voice. “Baby, please come ho-hommmme,” Thor sang. Loki looked up, catching a look on your face that he hadn’t seen before. There was something different in that look. Some deeper variable of your smile that ignited his heart. But there would be time for overthinking it later, he surmised as his brother launched into the chorus with a glottal barrage of enthusiasm. For now, he had a love to nurture.

As Loki released his practised backing harmonies with the rest of the team, his brother got into his stride. ‘Owned the stage,’ Loki believed was the term. Steve didn’t take his eyes off Thor for the whole number. And if Loki didn’t know better, which of course – he did, he would swear that the captain was blushing.

(Please) they sang, sleigh bells jangling in time. “Pleaseee” echoed his brother. (Please) “Please” (Please) “Please” (Please) “Please Baby, please come hommmme-” You were surprised the operatic efforts of Loki’s brother didn’t make the ground shake.

The crowd were beside themselves, singing and jiving and waving their hands in the air. Thor worked the big crescendo, falling to his knees on the ground. His thighs spread, and whether it was his intention or not, you saw Steve grip the podium as his sensibilities buckled. Just a bit. The captain’s lips rolled together, stifling what you were sure was a bite. Thank god Thor wore the tight jeans today, you mused as you held the final note. With a swiping flourish of the conductor’s baton, the song was over. The cheers were deafening.

Thor stood and gave a small bow, sudden bashfulness descending. He waved, backing off to the side. His eyes met Steve’s, giving him an understated nod. The captain returned it slowly, a look in his eyes you hadn’t seen before. You watched him mouth two words, thank you, before Thor collided into Loki.

There was only one more song to go. You watched as Loki patted his brother’s shoulder across the semi-circle, pulling him into a hug. His face was alight with pride. It melted your heart. Despite the passing of the months, you couldn’t get over how different his smiles were now. Open. Genuine. Real. He’s finally opened his heart.

Have you? The thought came intrusively. Fairy lights shone all around as Loki tussled his brother’s hair. Thor couldn’t stop smiling. And neither could Steve, you noticed. One more song. Rogers tapped the podium for the final time, raising the baton. The mellow sound of the saxophone twisted in the air, followed by strings.

“I'm dreaming of a white Christmas Just like the ones I used to know” you sang. Loki’s eyes met yours, sparkling with the glitter of mischief well done. “Where the treetops glisten, And children listen, To hear sleigh bells in the snow,”

Bucky’s voice began to grow louder beside you. Released from his bodily prison at last. On cue, the Avengers began to peel away from the semi-circle, mingling with the crowd. Of course, any production orchestrated by Steve Rogers would end in a collective heart-melting communal singalong. Nothing else would do.

You watched as Wanda cosied up to a older man holding a mulled wine. He offered it to her immediately, stunned as he mouthed the words to White Christmas. She took it.

For your part, you made a beeline for the children sitting at the front of the audience, joining them in their sway. This whole thing was for them, after all. Loki’s shadow crept behind you, falling over the little girl with his face emblazoned on the pin badge.

“I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, with every Christmas card I write” Loki purred melodically as he lowered to his haunches. He paused, leaning in to give her a kiss on the cheek. You watched her face, transfixed in joy as all her daydreams came true. The God of Mischief in person, his shadowed blue eyes looking into hers as though she was the only person in the world. That never gets old, either, you thought. He took her hand, pressing her tiny palm against his own. “May your days,” he sang with the crowd as his fingertips glowed green, “be merry and bright-” You couldn’t tear yourself from the look of absolute sincerity on his face. The utter determination painted on softened features to give this sweet girl a memory that would last for the rest of her life – however long that was.

Tears began to prick your eyes, seeing the crane of her neck upwards as her mouth fell open in wonder to the sky. Loki smiled. The green shimmer of his palm pressed to hers grew stronger. A glow flashed across the inky night, a billowing flourish of northern lights erupting over central Manhattan seeped in emerald and pinkish hues. They twisted in waves, swirling like a cloak which moved and rolled. It was alive. Loki's voice was quieter now, but no less beautiful as he sang. “And may all your Christmases, be-” “white,” the little girl gasped as snow began to fall. He did that, you thought in wonder as the crowd began to cheer, hugging each other. All sets of eyes were turned upwards to the sky. All but yours. They stayed fixed on Loki as the band played on amidst a flutter of newly swirling snowflakes. The man I love.

“The tie, brother-” Thor muttered nervously, “is it..?” “It is well done, brother” Loki replied.

He dusted the lapel of Thor’s crushed velvet suit jacket a final time, a deep red the shade of fine merlot. The blonde released a trembling sigh, pulling at his fingers.

It was Christmas Eve. “Did you take the pharmaceuticals as instructed?” Loki enquired quietly as the elevator bounced to a halt. Thor nodded, patting his breast pocket. “The Tums? Yes. I have some on my person should the gaseous beast rear in my belly.” Loki nodded, satisfied. All the bases were covered. He had done all he could do. Now, it was up to Thor. Well, almost. It had been Loki’s idea for the brothers to dress together for the party tonight. And although his initial plan was to ensure that Thor was in peak condition for this eve of great import, Loki would admit that he had enjoyed it. Very much.

He wore a suit matching his brother’s in all but one detail. Loki’s was a crushed velvet of richest emerald green. Thin silk ties of gold adorned them both, fastened tight to the white shirts beneath with a pin bearing their respective emblems. Loki’s gift to his brother. The Asgardian Princes were showing up, tonight. Loki had made sure of it. Mother would be proud, he smiled as the elevator doors opened. Thor’s Yuletide offering to him had been a gift certificate to the Cheesecake Factory, but Loki paid it no mind. Gifts had never been his brother's strong-suit.

The rest of the team was already gathered by the Christmas tree, festive beverages in hand. A rolling cheer of greeting sounded as the duo strode towards the scene. Loki grabbed two glasses from the bar, passing one to his brother who necked it immediately. The dark god swirled his finger, refilling it. Loki felt his brows rise as he saw you, standing with one finger curled over your lip and an entirely too sensual smirk on your beautiful face. Beneath the perfectly cut trousers of his suit, Loki’s cock twitched. “You look handsome,” you coaxed quietly as he slid an arm around your waist, releasing a breath he’d been holding as a charged grunt of need.

“If we had gotten ready for tonight together,” Loki growled hot in your ear, “I fear that dress would never have been seen by another intact.” He pressed himself to you with a lingering kiss, an appreciative thrust of his hips rubbing against your own. He sighed into your open mouth, feeling your fingers dig into his shoulders. “God,” Natasha muttered with playful scorn under her breath, shuffling over to give you both space. “Can’t take them anywhere,” she murmured to Sam. Sam grunted in agreement.

“Presents!” Tony cried, clapping his hands together. “Party starts at eight, tick tock. Cutting it fine thanks to Paris and Nicole here.” He nodded in Loki and Thor’s direction. Steve checked his watch. “One cannot rush perfection, Stark” Loki smirked, releasing you. He watched as Rogers turned and adjusted a decoration on the tree. A plush rabbit wearing a santa hat. He was nervous. Tony knelt down, reading each gift tag and throwing it to the corresponding team-member. An oblong package whizzed past Loki's face, hitting his brother square in the mouth. 'Ooft,' Thor grunted as mulled wine slopped over the side of the glass. He stumbled, catching the present. Loki sighed, flexing his fingers and removing the stain from the front of his sibling’s suit. His brother nestled the empty glass dangerously within the tree branches to his side, inspecting the package. “Tis soft,” he muttered seriously. Across the circle, Loki saw Steve’s anxious gaze darting upwards at his brother in intervals. He noted you offer the captain a comforting nod while Thor tore at immaculate wrapping, ripping off the red ribbon and casting it aside. “Odin’s beard…” Thor gasped as the final sliver of paper fell away.

The team fell silent, looking up from their various body massagers and associated tat. He raised the item in his hands like Simba, slack-jawed in awe. The amazed god stared at it, eyes glossy.

Bruce frowned towards the blonde, peering over his glasses with an oversized posing pouch dangling from one finger. “Is that-?” “-A chicken drumstick?” Nat gawked. “Tis’ soft…!” Thor breathed in wonder, twirling it in his hands. He clutched it to his chest, eyes darting around the group. “A thousand thanks upon whomever bestowed this plush poultry treasure upon me,” he murmured, unable to resist holding the cushion proudly at arms length.

“Truly whomever be my secretive santa knows me to my core-” he continued dreamily, looking to each avenger in turn. They all looked befuddled. All except one. Thor’s brow creased, doing a double take as Steve’s cheeks plunged to new depths of crimson. “Rogers?” the blonde god whispered, so low only Loki could hear it. “Open yours Steve!” someone probed. Captain America still held his own package in his hands, toying with it gently.

Loki maintained his stoic expression, tossing his newly acquired bottle of luxury dry shampoo between his hands as he noted horror descend on his brother’s face. Never fear, brother; he thought smugly. Thor thought that Steve was about to open a small box containing yet another gift certificate to the Cheesecake Factory. But Thor was mistaken. Firstly, America’s saviour was lactose intolerant. Any internet search would have told him that. But despite his brother’s poverty of imagination where presents were concerned, his heart was in the right place. And for the cunning plan his love and he had concocted, there was only one gift which could bring the two men comfort and joy this Christmas. The truth. “Wait, wait-” Thor yelped as he took several panicked strides across the room. He knelt down to Steve’s level, placing his hands over the box that Steve had only just revealed through the wrapping. “It’s not-” Steve looked up, meeting the god’s panicked stare with practised indifference.

“Let me open it, will ya?” he said calmly. Thor sank back, head bowed as he waited for the axe to fall. With every careful unlatching of sellotape, Loki saw his brother’s heart sink a little more into his stomach. “Good gravy, what’s this? A pocket-square?” Thor looked up, regret turning to confusion as he clocked the handkerchief dangling between Rogers slender fingers. It was familiar, heavy with otherworldly silk and trimmed in thread ground from the most precious jewels of nine realms. On one side, deepest burgundy melting to crimson. But on the other, a rich navy which faded to shimmering azure.

Red and blue, not red and green.

The two colours met in the middle, threads glittering and overlapping like foam on the shore. They seemed to move. To change and ebb in the light like a living thing. And stitched across the handkerchief in the finest gold,

En sannhet byttet mot en sannhet. “Jeepers,” Steve muttered as he pulled the silk appraisingly through his fingers. “Someone definitely went over the twenty dollar limit.” Thor twisted his head incredulously towards his brother. Loki narrowed his eyes briefly in response, coupled with a small nod. The blonde god cleared his throat, finally catching up to the scenario unfolding before him. “A truth for a truth,” Thor breathed quietly, looking to the floor.

Steve’s concentration broke, as if suddenly seeing the person kneeling beside him on the floor for the first time. “P-pardon?” he stuttered. There was a sudden wave of green hued light through the room, reminiscent of the northern lights which lit up last night’s sky at the jamboree. “My apologies, Rogers…” Loki purred, stepping forwards. “I feel it best to inform you that the others cannot see nor hear us at this moment. As far as they are aware, you are both by the bar.” Loki nodded to where a slightly glitchy duo of duplicates stood behind Tony’s counter, clinking glasses of tequila. “Just myself, and she-” he nodded to you, “are witness.” “W-witness?” Steve spluttered, trying to stand and finding his knees starting to buckle. He looked at Thor, eyes wide. But all he found was softness. “Say the words, Rogers” Thor urged gently, gesturing to the handkerchief. Steve frowned, as the blonde god pulled the silk from his grip.

“A truth for...what was it? Truth for a truth?” Rogers asked, confused gaze darting between the men and you.

Loki clapped his hands together quietly. “Wonderful. You are now bound to the Accords of the Kerchief.” Steve frowned deeper. “Accords of the what-now?” “Kerchief,” Loki repeated formally, nodding towards the silk in Thor’s hand.

“You have both held it while the other spoke the words. And now, you must exchange the truth which causes the conflict between you – so that it may be resolved.” “And what if I don’t wanna?” Rogers sniffed, ears burning. He avoided Thor’s eyes. Loki released a whittling hum of discontent. “Unfortunately, failure to comply with the Accord of the Kerchief once initiated means instant smiting at the hands of Heimdall.” “Smiting?! You can’t be serious,” Steve scoffed with gusto. “Oh yes,” Loki nodded very seriously. Thor was nodding too. Also very seriously. “The penalties are most grave, Rogers.” “You tricked me,” Steve hissed to the blonde opposite him.

“Technically I tricked you,” Loki smirked apologetically. Rogers eyes narrowed in his direction, his lip trembling with what looked suspiciously like a swear. “Laufeyson,” he warned. Loki extended his forefinger, waggling it slowly side-to-side. “It will do not a jot of good, Rogers. You can thank my mother for this one. Now -” he gestured expectantly between the men. Thor took a deep breath. “Rogers-Ihavefeelingsforyouwhichcannotbeexplainedin,mere...Norns-” “Slow down, Thor-” you cooed gently.

Loki felt your hand slide into his. The nerves roaring in his belly soothed as your fingers interlinked. Despite maintaining an exterior of calm, he was terrified.

“Rogers,” Thor began again. Steve stared at him, transfixed. The aura of suspicion which surrounded him was fading, his stiff spine slackening as he looked at the god. Really looked at him. Saw him.

“I have feelings for you, which run deep to the heart of me. Which I cannot deny any longer. And if you feel that you cannot return my interest, then I shall understand. But I cannot spend another night unable to sleep, thinking that you believe me to hate you. And I apologise for my boorish behaviour these past months.” There was a pause as the god took a breath before continuing. “It was self preservation, you see-” Thor rumbled quietly, before sighing.

Steve looked down, still except for his fingers fidgeting with the wrapping paper in his lap. “That was well done, brother” Loki soothed. Thor shot him a sad smile. “I-” Rogers started.

The three of you held your breath. He looked up, just at the moment Thor curled a blonde tendril behind his ear. “I-” Steve choked, shifting on his knees. “It’s okay Steve,” you coaxed from the side-lines. It was the final nudge he needed. “I feel the same,” was all Steve said. He looked up, meeting Thor’s widening eyes. “Truly?” Steve nodded shyly. “I got myself in a tizz, about a whole bunch of things which weren’t really to do with you. Or….us. Not really,” he stammered. "It wasn't a mistake. And I was a dummy to say so." Loki felt your fingernails dig into his palm, both of you craning forwards as the captain continued. His voice was serious, a slight waver just audible between the words. “For a while, I thought you thought I was just some kinda tart. Some kind of loose Jack. Well lemme tell you Odinson, Steve Rogers is no one’s tart.” “You were never my tart, Rogers,” Thor uttered with gravitas, gently cupping Steve’s jaw. The captain’s eyelids fluttered closed, leaning into his hold. In seconds, the space between them closed. Rogers arms wrapped around Thor’s shoulders, Thor’s hands sliding around the captain’s waist. They fit together like a glove, Steve’s fingers winding in the god’s hair like a spindle through spun gold. Low mutterings of apologies cascaded from their lips between kisses, small gasps and sighs as unpleasantness of past months were forgotten. “What the fuck?” Tony spluttered. Every set of eyes in the room was fixed on the God of Thunder and Captain America’s passionate embrace. Hel, Loki thought with a shock. In all the excitement, he had neglected to hold the spell which shielded them. The kiss ceased, but still their arms were wound around each other. “Sheesh,” Wanda laughed, grabbing a bottle of the good stuff on her way past the bar. “It’s about time.” A murmur of agreement rolled around the room, a chorus of whoops sounding as each teammate stooped to offer a clap on the back to the newly outed couple. And for the first time in living memory, the colour of Thor’s cheeks rivalled his lover’s. “Maybe you guys won’t be the public embarrassment at parties anymore,” Nat quipped as she passed, tapping Loki and you lightly on the ass. Your laughter lit up Loki’s heart. And there was that look in your eye again, the one he couldn’t place yesterday.

‘We did it,’ you mouthed silently to him. Loki winked in response, just as the clock chimed eight. With a spring in his step, Loki made his way to the men kneeling awkwardly on the floor, noting their interlinked fingers with a wave of pride. He offered both hands, and each was taken. He heaved, pulling the men to stand and immediately into a hug.

“Merry Christmas, brother” he whispered in Thor’s ear. “Do you need the handkerchief back?” Thor muttered through a smile. “I am assuming the revised colours were only temporary.” Loki chuckled, pulling him and Rogers tighter. The captain released a strangled ooft as the air was pressed from his lungs.

“I think not that we need such a trinket to ensure our bond. Not anymore. Do you, brother?” Loki murmured into his sibling’s hair.

From deep within the embrace, in a hold which seemed to melt the centuries, Loki felt his brother shake his head.

The party was a roaring success. And in the early hours of Christmas Day, you and Loki stumbled back to your apartment upstairs.

It was tiredness, mostly – and happiness. Strands of tinsel poked from Loki’s curls. You pulled one out with a giggle before unlocking the door and pulling him inside. “Finally,” he growled longingly as one slim finger toyed with the strap of your dress. Making quick work of pushing the velvet suit jacket from his shoulders, your fingers were halfway down his shirt buttons before you suddenly remembered- “-your present!” you cried, making Loki flinch back from where he had been buried in your neck.

“Can’t it wait?” he whined with feigned impatience. You waved an excited hand, scurrying to the cupboard. “No.” you shouted, head popping out behind the cupboard door. “I’ve been dying to give it to you.” Loki sighed, a reluctant smile spreading across his beautiful face. “I thought we agreed no gifts,” he huffed as you ran and sat cross-legged on the bed.

You bounced on your knees while he swaggered over, undoing the last of his buttons with a knowing grin as he enjoyed the roam of your hungry stare across his skin. His carved abdomen flirted into view, obliques visible with each stride as the thick cotton folded to his movements. Loki sat on the bed, legs spread at the edge. His thighs creased the material in a way that made your mouth water.

He picked up the box, inspecting it before throwing you a lingering smoulder. “Mischievous elf,” he purred. “It’s just a small thing” you bargained, biting your lip as the first side of paper was torn. “I stole it, actually.” Loki raised an eyebrow. “Open it!” you said, chewing on your thumbnail as you watched his eyes drop to the package. Suddenly the god’s face changed.

Playfulness melted to a frown, his smirk fading. He swallowed thickly, staring down at the mug in his hands before looking up at you. “-with the yellow bear,” he said quietly. “and the eyepatch!” you beamed. “I took it from the cottage. I noticed you always used it, I thought you might like the-”

Before you could finish, Loki’s hand had cupped the back of your head and pulled you into an all-consuming kiss. He bore down on you, the passion of his adoration sinking through the air and deep into your soul. Every circle of his tongue against yours, every caress of his breath as he repositioned his mouth over your own. He broke, panting. “Darling,” was all he could muster in thanks as he looked down at the ceramic with adoring eyes. You couldn’t stop smiling. His gaze snapped up, a click of his fingers making a perfectly wrapped present appear beside you on the bed. Golden paper shimmered before becoming whole. It was flat, and light. “No presents, huh?” you goaded sweetly. Loki smiled. “Open it,” he echoed. You complied. And inside the paper was a perfectly folded nightdress, adorned with autumnal leaves. The very same one. You hugged it to your chest, a dopey smile on your face. “I knew it was the one thing in that room you would miss,” he rumbled apologetically.

You reached for his hand, thumb running over the veins taut and thick on the back. “I hope this doesn’t mean I’ll be sleeping alone,” you whispered with a smile. Loki placed his mug on the side table, before reaching for the nightdress and placing it beside. “God forbid,” he growled. Loki pulled another errant strand of tinsel from his hair, making it vanish. Without breaking eye contact, he lowered you back on the mattress, the pad of one fingertip tracing down your cheekbone. Memorising it.

The way he was looking at you, the silence that hung where words should be. You knew which words they were. He was holding back, even now as he inhaled against your pulse-point. Holding back for you. As dark curls blanketed your vision, you thought of the excitement in his voice as the cunning plan was formed. Of the way his fists clenched as he silently cheered his brother on, how his face fell when he thought that it was all for naught. How his eyes had swum with joy as it all came together. Not for himself, but for them. And you thought of the smile on that little girl’s face, joyful in the midst of Christmas lights and magic that shouldn't be possible. But for her, and for you - with him...it was. Yes, you’d thought about that a lot. “I love you, Loki” you whispered slowly in his ear.

Loki’s kisses against your neck faltered. You heard a sigh rack his chest, breath hitching as his heart-beart quickened on top of your own. “Truly?” he murmured in response.

It was cautious, wary. His eyes came into view, concern clouding them. You slid a hand up his jaw, kissing him gently. “I love you,” you repeated solemnly. He pressed his forehead to yours, a choke of relieved laughter accompanying a long inhale of breath. “Gods,” he whispered on the exhale, “what have I done to deserve you?” “Everything,” you replied quietly. It was a truth.

He kissed you as though he was trying to absorb each atom of your breath, capture each flutter of the three words he’d longed to hear. As though they might vanish if he did not mark the moment with the seal of his touch. But they wouldn’t. You knew that now. How could they? “I love you,” he whispered back. And you believed him.

A/N: Thank you again so so so much for coming on this journey with me and the gang. I'm so happy with how this ended, even though the expansion was a bit unexpected(!) and I really hope you are too! Although the 'main' story is chapters 1-7, it felt like there was more to explore. Please let me know what you thought, any insights or additional HCs you have - they are always welcome ❤️ Tags

@lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @fandxmslxt69 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @mrs-illyrian-baby @icytrickster17 @muddyorbs @buttercupcookies-blog @goddessofwonderland

[jintaka-hane]

The Date

Masterlist

Summary: You and Heat have your first task together: buying provisions in the village where you've just docked. To get the job done, you decide to wear a beautiful, light summer dress, something that will reveal your companion to be quite the gentleman and charmer. Notes: I'll be honest. The amount of time it has taken me to write this fic is not normal XDD Word Count: 2700+

"Someday, I'll take out a girl like that," said a young Heat, hidden in an alley, hungrily biting into a stolen loaf of bread as he observed elegantly dressed girls pass by.

"Don't tell me!" mocked one of his friends. "And let me guess! You'd treat her to ice cream?"

"Of course I'd treat her to ice cream," he replied so proudly that his group of friends erupted in laughter.

...

The years passed, and with them came the street gangs, the violent fights, and the Glasgow smile, causing this memory to fade from his mind.

******

That day was resupply day in the village. 

After the shout on deck announcing that you had just docked in the harbor, you hurried to get ready in your cabin, assuming Heat was probably already prepared. It was the first time you had been assigned a task together, and you didn't want to keep him waiting.

Your fingers began to sift through the different hangers in the flung wide open wardrobe in search of something light to wear. Summer had arrived on the islands, bringing with it hot, sunny days, so you needed something cooler than your usual outfit.

Discarding the leather jacket—too hot despite being sleeveless—along with the set of gothic corsets and harnesses, and the collection of dark t-shirts with spiked dog collars, your fingers halted on a hanger holding a much more delicate garment.

A few weeks earlier, Quincy had convinced you to buy a summer dress from a store that sold everything at half price. Lavender in color, with a sweetheart neckline and tiny embroidered flowers on the skirt, it was a garment you had never worn, partly out of embarrassment and partly because it wasn't the most suitable attire for the strict life at sea.

Holding it between your hands, you thought it was a shame for it to hang there unused. What if you wore it that afternoon? Oh, the crew would surely laugh at you when they saw you, but... it was cool and airy, perfect for high temperatures... and besides, the village seemed so peaceful and tranquil, with little risk of having to face a street fight. When else would you have such an opportunity to wear it?

You chuckled to yourself at the realization that you were making excuses to wear it, and slipped it on without further thought, completing the outfit with a pair of matching heeled sandals instead of your usual black leather boots.

As you stepped out onto the deck, everyone stopped what they were doing to look at you. Everyone except Heat, who appeared absorbed in reviewing the shopping list over and over again, seemingly unaware of the catcalls and wolf whistles that started to fill the air.

Slightly embarrassed, you hurried over, snatched the berry bag that Killer handed you, and turned to Heat, lifting your chin to meet his gaze, suddenly aware of how tall he was.

"Shall we go?" you asked, eager to disembark as quickly as possible.

The pirate with bluish locks lifted his gaze from the paper and blinked several times before looking you up and down. His face flushed pink, and before he could stammer a word, the shopping list slipped from his hands, falling to the ground right by your feet. Grunting, he bent down to retrieve it, unable to prevent his eyes from flicking a quick glance at the straps of your sandals, admiring how delicately they encircled your ankle bones.

"Uh, y-yes, let's go," he stammered, straightening up and brushing back the hair that had fallen across his face in cascades, his cheeks still tinged with a deep blush.

As he looked back at you, you were already descending the gangplank, teetering slightly in your heels. He slipped a hand into his pocket, discretely counted his allowance, then hurried to catch up with you.

"Behave yourself, Heat!" someone shouted from behind both of you.

*****

The port turned out to be a lively and pleasant place and Heat, once over the initial shock, seemed more animated than ever. He chatted incessantly, his bright eyes fixed on you, gesturing emphatically with his hands, and constantly making you laugh with his antics.

You moved through the picturesque streets, going from shop to shop, oblivious to how the passersby crossed to the other side of the street at the sight of him.

Your companion was constantly attentive to you, always gallantly holding the door open at every shop and insisting on carrying all the shopping bags himself.

On a couple of occasions, unaccustomed as you were to wearing heels, you stumbled on the shop's entrance step, and Heat caught you mid-air as laughter bubbled between you. The shopkeepers watched with curiosity, puzzled by the unusual pair you made.

Once you had finished all the groceries Killer had instructed, you moved on to the list of personal requests. You giggled together as you read items such as a can of blue paint, nail polishes, a trident sharpener, and a special shampoo that Heat eventually confessed was for himself.

It didn't take long to gather everything, but not wanting to return to the ship so soon, Heat suggested taking a leisurely stroll through the heart of the village to explore.

"Doesn't it bother you? You're loaded down with bags," you asked, concerned as you saw his fingers, white under the handles.

"No, not at all!" he chuckled carelessly.

You walked without haste, chatting more calmly after the earlier excitement of the day.

The village boasted a wide array of peculiar products you had never seen before, and each time you paused to observe them in the windows of closed shops, Heat took the opportunity to admire the reflection on your face, filled with curiosity.

Heat wished the evening would never end, but before you both knew it, the sun descended from the sky, signaling it was time to return to the ship.

Walking side by side and enjoying the tranquility of the streets in comfortable silence, you made your way back.

You could already see the harbor, the masts of the moored ships jutting out in the distance, when your crewmate halted silently, a smile touching his scarred lips. 

"Heat?" You stopped next to him, peering at him inquisitively.

Following his gaze, you saw a modest ice cream parlor at the end of the street. It was small, with a limited selection of flavors displayed at the entrance.

He looked at you, a small blush creeping up his cheeks once more.

"Do you want ice cream?"

A radiant smile lit up your face, like that of a little girl. 

"YES!"

"Let's go." He patted one of his pockets to double-check his allowance. "I'll treat you."

"Really? No need, Heat, I can—"

"Let me treat you, please."

You beamed at him, somewhat surprised by his sudden generosity. 

"Thank you so much!" 

As you approached the ice cream flavors display the vendor greeted you with a friendly gesture, his smile quickly vanishing when he saw your companion coming up behind you. 

There weren't many flavors to choose from, but the ones available looked delightful. Your eyes scanned the different options, hesitating over which would be the best.

"Psst, hey miss..." the vendor whispered in a voice only audible to you, watching warily as your companion bent down to eye the mint flavor. "Are you in danger?" 

You lifted your gaze and saw the man discreetly gesture toward Heat. Then, you bursted into laughter, amused as you watched your friend smile and point at the creamy, greenish ice cream with chocolate chips.

"Oh, no, no, he's with me."

Once each of you had your ice cream scoops nestled in a waffle cone, you slowly made your way back to the ship.

Since his hands were occupied with the bags, you carried both ice creams, pausing now and then to give him his, bringing it close to his lips while placing your other hand underneath to prevent spills—somehow, the ice cream seemed to melt remarkably fast near him.

This strategy worked the first few times, but eventually, it became impossible to avoid making a mess.

As you brought the cone to his lips, several treacherous drops fell from the corner of his mouth and rolled down to his chin. Without thinking, you swiftly used your thumb to catch them, briefly sliding it along the seam of his scarred lips, feeling the indentations of his scars. He jerked back, involuntarily withdrawing his head with an abrupt movement, surprising both of you.

Immediately, you pulled your hand away, embarrassed for touching him without permission and realizing it was the first time you had touched his scars. How foolish of you; perhaps it hurt him, or perhaps he found it unpleasant for someone else to touch them...

“F-forgive me, I didn’t mean to-” you began, visibly ashamed.

"It’s okay," he cut you off, cursing himself for his own reaction and for scaring you away.

You both continued walking in silence, the only sounds on the street being the rustle of your dress, and the click of your heels against the pavement.

Heat's thoughts were consumed by the gentle brush of your fingers against his scars, the sensation of your touch replaying in his mind over and over again.

"Heat…" you decided to break the silence. 

The pirate glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, seeing how you hesitantly held out your waffle cone toward him.

"Do you want to try mine?"

He halted beside you, his fists gripping the handles just a bit too tightly. 

"Um... yes."

As he bent down and your hand approached his mouth, his heart started racing. His lower lip trembled as he tasted the sweet flavor you offered him, and his gaze drifted to your fingers, observing how they carefully cradled the ice cream. How had he never noticed before how delicate they were? He studied them, noting the shape of your nails, barely maintained due to your lifestyle, yet still elegant and beautiful.

"Do you like it?" you asked.

He remained lost in your hands, his eyes admiring the smooth, velvety skin of your wrists, so close to his lips that he could almost kiss them…

"Heat! Can you hear me?" you laughed, giving him a friendly tap on the chest to get his attention. "Do you like it?"

"Yes..."

*****

It was already nightfall when you returned to the ship. 

After climbing the ship's staircase, you headed to the pantry, which was warmly lit, echoing with the voices of your crewmates from outside. 

"Oi!"

“Welcome back!” They greeted you cheerfully.

Heat dropped the heavy bags on the table, grabbed a few bottles of booze, and turned to stow them in a cupboard.

"Well..." Quincy began, glancing sideways at your dress while pretending to inspect the groceries, "how was the date?"

Heat's back muscles tensed, his hands freezing with the bottles held mid-air, as he listened attentively to the conversation behind him.

"The date?” You laughed, grabbing a couple of apples and placing them in the fruit bowl. “I haven't had any dates. I can't remember the last time I had one."

Quincy hummed. Her eyes moved from the tense, motionless posture of the tattooed pirate, to the vivid color in your cheeks.

"Well, that's a shame... you're gorgeous. And you look especially lovely tonight," she raised her voice to make sure everyone could hear.

"Oh, Quincy, stop it! You're going to make me blush even more."

"But you really are!" she pulled you into a hug from the side. 

You returned the hug, then focused on organizing the provisions, working in silence while your friends chatted around you.

*******

Back in your cabin, you sat on your bed reflecting on how the day had gone.

It hadn't been bad; you had quite enjoyed yourself.

Surprisingly so, considering it was just a day of shopping.

You lifted your feet to untie the straps of your sandals and rotated your ankles, stiff from the forced position of the heels. Barefoot, you rose from the bed and stretched your arms above your head to reach the zipper that fastened the dress at your back.

Knock, knock, knock.

A soft tapping on your door caught your attention, so faint that you mistook it for the usual creaking of the ship’s wood.

You grumbled, trying to make the zipper budge when the tapping came again, this time with more determination.

Knock, knock, knock.

With your dress half-open, you walked to the door and opened it, revealing the towering figure of Heat standing on the other side.

"Hey, Heat?" You greeted him.

The pirate looked at you in silence, his shyness causing his eyes to drop to the floor, landing on your bare feet. He quickly looked back up, a rosy hue spreading across his cheeks.

"Heat, do you need something?"

"I had a great time today," he blurted out.

"I did too," you offered him a smile.

Running a hand through the untamed waves of his bluish hair, he continued.

"A-and I was wondering if you… well, it's completely understandable if you don't want to. It's fine, really, if your answer is no, but…” He propped his tattooed elbow on the door frame, trying to strike a seductive pose, “would you like to go back to town tonight?"

“Oh!” you exclaimed. "Did we forget to buy something from the list?"

He blinked at you, his heart sinking like a dead weight into the depths of the sea. 

“No, no, we didn't forget anything,” he assured you.

You looked up at him. "Then?"

"It's just that... I was thinking…” he began to fidget with the laces of his vest, “maybe we could go to town to have… dinner?" 

He ended the sentence with a questioning tone, wincing at how awkward he sounded.

"Dinner?” Your face lit up, suddenly realizing how hungry you were. “I could have dinner! When do we leave? Are the others ready?"

Heat couldn’t believe how difficult this was turning out to be.

"NO. No, the others wouldn’t be coming."

"...oh," you said, awkwardly. "...OH.”

He kept his gaze fixed on you, and his eyes studied your reaction as it all clicked into place for you.

"... so... it would just be you and me? Like—"

"A date, yes," he confirmed, unable to bear the suspense any longer.

How could you have been so silly? There was nothing you wanted more in the world than to spend more time with your striking, blue-haired crewmate. The corners of your mouth lifted, your eyes sparkling as you gave Heat the most beautiful, thrilled smile he'd ever seen.

"Yes! Of course I'll go! I'd love to go back to town with you!"

Heat let out the longest breath, and something about the gesture made your heart melt.

“Just..." you remarked as you realized you were barefoot and with the dress halfway off, "...give me a moment to get ready, okay?"

"Okay," he nodded.

The moment you closed the door, he punched the air in quiet triumph, a satisfied grin stretching from ear to ear as he made his way to the deck, where he would wait for you for the second time that day.

Perhaps, if the evening unfolded well, he might gather the courage to hold you in his arms... and perhaps, if you allowed him, he could show you how much he had loved the feel of your skin against his scars.

..........................

Taglist: @fanaticsnail <3

[subbmissivesuccubus]

Kinktober Day 5 - Dottore X Reader - Humiliation

 Day 5 – Dottore X Fem Reader – Humiliation

Disclaimer: Very intense humiliation and free use themes. No sex or penetration in this one, just plain humiliation. Thought I’d spice these up once in awhile <3

It was a cold night out as you followed Dottore to a local tavern. The Doctor had a pep in his step, this particular version of him whisking you away from your chores to act as his aid. Whatever that means. “Keep up.” He said, looking back at you and giving a particularly harsh tug to your leash, making you choke and almost trip while walking. “Y-Yes Sir.” You responded meekly, the metal of your collar digging into your skin. With a smirk, the man continued onwards and you made sure to match with his pace so you were right behind him.

When Dottore offered to cure your illness and only asked that you work as his assistant, you couldn’t believe your ears. The offer was too good to be true and you were worried there was a catch but the man kept his word and helped you, making you the healthiest you’ve ever been. No more sleepless nights in pain, no more constant headaches, no more fevers every other day- you could finally live your life.

And of course, you had to keep your end of the bargain as well. Most of your duties involved checking up on his clones and seeing what they’ve been upto, making sure his subjects were well fed and taken care of, recording down notes of his recent experiments, keeping his pen full of ink and replacing his notebooks when needed-

Letting him bend you over the table and fuck his stress out, offering your body to his many clones to have their way with, put a collar on you and drag you along everywhere like a dog and not caring about people staring-

You know. The usual assistant stuff.

Tonight, Dottore (the original one? Atleast, he was the one who first gave you the offer) had a meeting with the owner of the tavern. An exchange of goods of sorts. The tavern head was experimenting with his wine and agreed to help Dottore in spiking it with some kind of potion, Dottore planning to use the drunkards of the bar as his unwilling experimental group.

He opened the door, the bell of top jingling to signal that they had entered. The man behind the bar greeted them, instantly recognising Dottore and his eyebrows shot up when he saw you trail behind him, leash and all. “Welcome, Doctor.” The man said, “Glad you could make it.”

“How could I not?” Dottore asked, sitting on the chair opposite the counter. He hadn’t ordered you to sit, so you continued to stand behind him. “I’ll have a bottle of your finest red wine, my good man.”

“Coming right up.” The bartender said, “And for the Missus?”

Dottore looked at you, his eyes hidden behind his mask but you were confident they were twinkling in mischief, “Can you put some milk in a dog bowl?”

Blood instantly rushed to your face, Dottore’s comments catching the attention of the many regulars in the bar, all of them immediately looking at you. The bartender barked out a laugh, “Lucky for you, I just bought a new dog bowl. A glass of wine and milk, coming up.”

“On your knees.” Dottore ordered, tugging tightly at your leash. You quickly obeyed, kneeling down next to the man and sitting on your heels. More murmurs echoed through the bar as people’s attention was all of you. You in your cute white shirt, turquoise corset and adorable blue booty shorts with knee high boots. It was quite revealing but Dottore liked it on you and so, you wore it.

“Cute little girl you got there.” The bartender said, placing a glass of beautiful red wine on the table in front of the Doctor and a dog bowl filled with milk next to it, “What do you think about lending her to me for a while?”

“Oh, are we talking business already?” Dottore asks, grabbing the bowl before carefully placing it on the floor in front of you, not needing to command you. You should know what to do. With a gulp, body trembling as you tried your best to ignore all the people staring at you, you placed your hands on either side of the bowl before bending down and drinking the milk. You heard Dottore laugh along with the gasps of the people around you, almost choking on your milk as you felt the familiar sensation of a heel pressing gently onto your head. Dottore’s heeled boot was on you, the man stepping on your head as he made sure to keep you bent over.

“If that’s what you want to start with.” The bartender responded, “Not the first time I’ve made dealings with the Fatui. As long as the deal is fair, I’ll do anythin’ ya want.”

“That’s good to hear.” Dottore said as he picked up his glass, taking a sip of the drink before continuing, in a softer tone so the onlookers couldn’t hear him, “But you know exactly what I want from you.”

“That I do.” The man responded, “But it won’t be cheap.”

“I didn’t expect it to be.”

“So, spiking my bottles for a whole month will cost you twenty million mora.” The man said, leaning against the counter so only Dottore could hear him, “and it will cost ya extra if you want me to make that purple powder myself.”

Dottore chucked, “I’ll be proving you with the powder and I’ll pay you ten million.”

“Nah. Twenty million.”

“Ten million and I’ll throw in a few Fatui to act as your bodyguards.” Dottore negotiated, “Doing this will put a target on your back, you know.”

The bartender paused, gnawing at his lower lip before saying: “Ten million, bodyguards and…I get to fuck this pretty puppy of yours.”

You jumped as he said that, close enough to hear their conversations. The milk was empty and you were just waiting for Dottore to get his boot off of your head, but he just pressed it down harder.

“No one fucks her but me.” Dottore said, his tone indicating his annoyance even if the mask covered his eyes.

“Damn, well, then I guess we’re back to square-“

“Eleven Million, bodyguards and I’ll let you watch while I fuck her.”

You shivered, a rush of heat and shame washing through you. “Now why would I just wanna watch?” the bartender said, looking at Dottore like he was foolish.

“Not just you. Everyone in the bar.” The Doctor responded, “They’re already interested in her- why not make a profit? Only those who buy drinks can stay behind and watch. What do you say?”

Your body shivered some more and you could feel your pussy clench underneath your shorts, the action no doubt visible to some of the patrons who grinned widely at the scene. The man behind the bar took a second before a smile formed on his face, a twinkle in his eye as he brought his hand out for Dottore to take, both of them shaking on it.

“It’s a pleasure doing business with ya!”

“Oh, the pleasure is all mine~”

~~~

You shivered and mewled at the lewd stared directed your way, some of the patrons already hard in their pants and nothing had really happened yet. Sure, the Doctor had stripped you of your corset and was groping at your tits, your mounds shifting in his touch, but that was all he had done. Sitting in the middle of the bar, perched on top of Dottore’s lap with your legs spread wide open, you tried your best to ignore the large group of men that were now surrounding the two of you in a circle, beyond excited to see what was going to happen.

They got filled in on the situation and a few people left, mostly women and men who were taken but majority of the men stayed behind, refusing to miss this chance. They sat comfortably around you, eyes wide, taking in every second. The door of the tavern was locked and the bartender was pocketing money, his business booming tonight.

“Look at how hungrily they’re looking at you, pet~” Dottore cooed in your ear as he found your nipples under the shirt, his long fingers starting to run circles over them, “You’re making them so horny~”

You didn’t respond, letting out a yelp as the Fatui pinched your buds, squeezing them tightly between thumb and forefinger before pulling them harshly. The men cheered at your sweet cries, their voices louder at the way your breasts bounced back once Dottore let go. He cupped your tits from below and started to jiggle them, the fat of your tits bouncing for everyone’s viewing pleasure. It was so humiliating- so shameless- so hot.

“Unbutton your shirt.” The man ordered as he continued to jiggle your tits, “flash all of these old perverts.”

Knowing better than to argue, you started doing just that. Eyes around you widened and cocks swelled in pants as you revealed your naked chest, not wearing a bra underneath. With a gulp, you shrugged the shirt off of your shoulders, exposing your breasts to the greedy crowd.

“Oh fuck.”

“Holy shit.”

“Such good fucking tits!”

You mewled at the lewd words thrown your way, your pussy drenching your panties as you shamelessly bared your naked tits to the group of strangers. There were more than ten men leering at you, perhaps close to twenty, all of whom were staring at you with nothing but lust in their eyes. You were briefly distracted as Dottore once again cupped your breasts before jumping them up and down again, this time, the ripple of your flesh all the more delicious. You noticed that a few men were starting to palm themselves over their pants, eyes watering from how they weren’t blinking.

“Your nipples are hard~” The Doctor said, licking at your earlobe before his fingers flicked your sensitive buds, “Are you enjoying this?”

“S’ cold…” you said as an excuse, whining as his gloved hands started to twirl your nipples in circles. Your breasts were so sensitive to his touch- even the lightest of sensations make you feel like your body is burning up. “Oh yeah?” Dottore asked, clearly not convinced as his palms grabbed your breasts, palming them lewdly, “So your pussy won’t be dripping for me?”

“N-No-“

“Hmmm, should we check then? What do you think boys?” Dottore asked, addressing the crowd, “Should I take off these shorts and check if her cunny is drenched?”

A loud cheer echoed through the room, all of the men shouting a deafening yes making your ears turn red. You felt so vulnerable- so bare- so humiliated as everyone celebrated getting to see your pussy. This wasn’t the first time Dottore has showed you off to others, being fucked in front of the Fatui warriors a fairly common occurrence, but this was different. These were random strangers who had nothing to do with the organisation and were just here in the right place at the right time.

“You heard them.” The Doctor said, nuzzling at your neck before giving it a kiss, his hands letting go of your breasts to instead slide down the curve of your hips and towards the hem of your shorts, “Let’s get you naked, pretty puppy~”

“Pussy! Show us that pussy!”

“Tear those slutty shorts off!”

“Spread those legs wide! I wanna see that asshole!”

You gasped as the dirty words thrown your way, lifting your hips up so your master could slide your shorts down. Everyone hooted as your bare legs got revealed, your black thong doing very little to hide your pussy. One of the men grabbed at your discarded shorts and held it up, hooting like he just won a prize.  Deciding to leave your boots on, Dottore grabbed you by the back of your knees before pulling up, making you yelp as your position got slightly changed. You couldn’t help but slap your hands over your eyes as you saw the men move closer to you, some of them so close that you could feel their breath on your cunt. With your body slightly lower and your knees almost pressing your shoulders, Dottore held you wide open for everyone to ogle at. Your thong was wedged between your pussy lips, your puffy cunt practically swallowing the thin fabric and your asshole almost completely visible.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” the Doctor asked, his voice like honey as he took in the scene. It was truly a power trip to watch all these men be so obviously horny for his darling but they couldn’t touch you- couldn’t taste you- couldn’t fuck you. “Take pictures, Gentlemen. It will last longer.”

“Wait- Seriously?”

“Holy fuck! Where’s my Kamera?!”

“Jerk off material for life!”

“Ah-ah! Only if you refill your drinks!”

You looked up at Dottore from your position, peeking between your fingers as the commotion around you increased, everyone buying drinks and scrambling to get their Kamera’s. “I should use you more often.” Dottore said as he looked down at you, “I can convince a lot of perverts to do a lot of bad things just so they can have a taste of your pussy- why didn’t I think of that before?”

He clicked his tongue, annoyed with himself, his mask starting to reflect the flashes of the Kamera’s. Your body twitched every time the shutter went off, the slick from your pussy glistening in the light, something the audience took note of. They moved in closer, their Kamera’s taking countless pictures of you- of your tits, your pussy and your ass. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what they would do with said pictures but knowing Dottore, if they ever got circulated, he’d find a way to monetise it for himself.

“Come on, pet.” He said, his hand sliding between your legs and giving your pussy a few pats, the impact wet and filthy, “Do you want them to see more?”

“Wh-huh?”

“Beg for it.” He explained, “Say: ‘Everyone, please take a good long look at my wet, nasty cunny~’”

“B-But-“ you sputtered, blood rushing to your face so fast it made you feel dizzy, “That’s so- I-“

Dottore raised his hand and gave your pussy a sharp slap, making you yelp out in pain. “Did you say something?” he asked, daring you to protest.

“E-Everyone!” You said, tears in your eyes from the pain and from the humiliation, your ears ringing and your heart hammering so loudly in your chest, you wondered if they could hear it, “P-Please take a g-good long look at m-my w-w-wet, nasty c-cunny!”

“Fuck yeah!!” The crowd cheered, some of them getting your words on video. You were so focused on Dottore and his touch that you failed to notice just how riled up the audience was. Most of them had their cocks out and more than half of them were jerking off, their pleasure filled expressions hidden behind their Kamera’s. You gulped down the saliva in your mouth, your body having been trained well enough that you’d drool when there were hard dicks around- cocks that were eager to fuck you. The slick sound of the strangers sliding their hand up and down their members echoed through the air, their dirty panting somehow turning you on more than their dirty words.

“Let’s show them this pussy, hmm? This pussy that belongs to me~” Dottore growled before his fingers clutched at the hem of your thong and pulled so harshly, he ripped the thin fabric to shreds. Drinks were poured and cheers erupted as the blue haired man tossed aside the remains of your underwear, leaving you truly and completely naked. You gasped, tossing your head back against him as the flashes and clicks of the Kamera increased, your brain getting overstimulated. You felt Dottore’s fingers on your cunt, his gloved hand going up and down your pussy lips, collecting the slick before giving it a nice pat pat pat. The sticky sound of your cunt was barely audible over everything else, especially of the men who started to jerk off with more vigour.

“Take a good look, Gentlemen.” Dottore said, his fingers suddenly spreading your pussy lips apart, showing off every nook and cranny of your cunt, ignoring your cry, “the most perfect pussy in the World~”

[projectbluearcadia]

"Oops."

This is just the kind of scenario that pops up in my head a lot. The walls in the House of Lamentation have ears. (Suggestive)

---

“MC, my room. Now,” Lucifer snapped when he saw the mess you and Mammon had made. As usual, Mammon was getting himself in trouble with a so-called good idea and you were roped into it. This time, it had been adopting a feral demon.

Mammon, of course, had wanted to become a selective breeder after he heard about what purebred dogs are worth. Though now he gave up on that because he was a little too attached to the pair of Harumons he’d just adopted. 

In any case, the living room was an absolute disaster area, and Lucifer was very clearly pissed. 

“I-It was me! Why're you taking MC??” Mammon cried after Lucifer, and he turned a glare back at his little brother. 

“I’ll deal with you later.” 

And he left Mammon in silence, dragging MC by the collar. 

Guilty and feeling scared for the resident human, he followed and debated outside Lucifer’s door whether or not he should knock it down and rescue her. 

“L-Listen, Lucifer we can talk about th—Ah!” Mammon flinched at the high-pitched cry against the door accompanying a loud thud. 

“MC…” Lucifer’s lowered voice rasped. “I think I already warned you there would be consequences for doing something stupid like this.” 

“You’re not my dad!”

“No,” Lucifer replied, and a whimper resounded through the wood, making Mammon shiver. Should he risk it and jump in? Should he? “But you serve me, now don’t you MC?” 

“Well…y-yes…” 

“And since you so willingly went along with whatever that idiot’s harebrained scheme was this time, you’re going to make me feel better.” 

“M-My knees are still sore… sir.” Mammon was half tempted to break in there, a little enraged at the thought of whatever physical punishment he’d given to her. Didn't he know that human was fragile!? And how could he do that when she was so cute anyway!?

“Then rest assured that I’ll make something else sore today.”

“W-Wait, Lu-Lucifer,” she gasped before she let out a surprised cry, and Mammon felt his ears turn hot as the sound of a kiss and something else reached his ears. 

“No waiting,” Lucifer growled, breathless as she panted. “I’ve been waiting.” 

“Ah! N-Not there!” she cried out, still heaving for breath, and Mammon flinched as he heard a thump against the door. 

“Why not? You’re shaking your hips like you’re enjoying it. Dirty girl.” 

Fuckin’ hell, Mammon thought. He’s doin' it that way…. Come to think of it, I think Levi was complaining about that earlier... I really should lea--

“Ahn?! Lucifer, why did you lick me!?” 

Mammon's ears turned pink at the sound that came out of her mouth, and he found himself desperately wishing that he was in Lucifer's place.

“Would you have preferred I childishly bit you like I wanted to?" Lucifer chuckled to himself. "But you want me to lick somewhere else, don’t you? If you want that, then you’re going to beg for it… and I’ll make you scream so loud that the entire house will know.”

“A-Aren’t you afraid they’ll get scared…?” 

“They know I’m here, and they know damn well I’d never let anything happen to you. They’ll know exactly why you’re screaming. I promise.” 

Mammon covered his reddened face with a groan. That asshole knew I was gonna follow to make sure she was okay, didn' he? Fuck. I'm not sleepin' tonight...

As a bonus, when the other brothers found out that Mammon was the reason that Lucifer was making MC scream louder than usual, they casually bullied him the next day. Lucifer was satisfied.

MC later made them make up and screwed them both ruthlessly.

[manicpixiefelix]

love the hand that feeds you {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

One-Shot for head, heart, hand. but can be read as a stand-alone.

Summary: Everyone's always called you Felix's Dog. Felix has always had a problem with this. You've always wished that he didn't. Oliver's never been much of a cat person anyways.

Need to Know: They/Them. NB!Reader. Oliver's POV. Set after the Summer at Saltburn but with a happy, poly ending. Established Felix/Reader/Oliver. Reader's AGAB/sex is never made explicitly clear so hopefully all of y'all can enjoy.

Warnings: SMUT. Porn with plot. Pet play, obviously. Demeaning language (dog is the main one, obviously), oral, threesome, unprotected sex, d/s dynamics (all three of you go back and forth but there's mostly Dominant!Oliver), teasing, praise kink (and praise kink by proxy), pet names (ha). Felix & Reader being horny puppies who love Oliver Quick (and each other) very much.

A/N: 9494 words. i told my girlfriend about this fic and how long it is and she said 'at that point is it a oneshot or a cry for help' and idk man it's definitely a cry for something 👀

----

It starts because Felix likes having his hair played with.

Actually, it starts the week before with you, drunk and giggling at a house party, playing with the chain Oliver's always wearing with more fascination than usual, when you admit that Venetia once bought you a collar. Of course you provide the caveat that it was more to piss Felix off, which it had, and that it had been thrown into the fire before you ever got to wear it. Oliver, who'd been watching Felix playing beer pong across the room, has to take a moment to process what you'd said.

"Wish she didn't make it all weird," you sighed a little forlornly, and you give the chain a faint tug, "I'm such a good dog, everyone says so," then you huffed a faint, flustered laugh, "not everyone. Not you and Fi, you guys are lovely, but sometimes I am a bit like a dog; I'm okay with that."

In the next moment you're humming along to whatever trashy pop is playing, and Oliver's pretty sure you've already forgotten what you'd just said, but even in his own state of inebriation, he can't.

The next day, on one of the many lawns across Oxford's beautiful campus, Oliver's sitting with Felix's head in his lap, fingers running through his hair as you and Felix are brainstorming gifts for Venetia's upcoming birthday. Felix has his eyes closed, enjoying the warm afternoon and the sensation of Oliver's gentle petting, while you're splayed out on the grass beside them both, focusing on your notebook.

Yes, you've always been a good dog, but you'd been well trained; the more Oliver thinks about it, the more he finds himself also drawing comparisons between Felix and an excitable, affectionate, pampered pup himself. But there was potential there, Oliver could see it clear as day.

So he'd started to come up with a plan. A simple plan, thankfully; knowing you both it wouldn't require anything too complicated, it wouldn't be particularly manipulative. At least not maliciously.

A simple, two step plan to show the impossibly beautiful, rich, loving heirs how much he loved and appreciated them for all their qualities, especially the dog-like ones, in certain circumstances. Really it's not even his idea; Felix's whole family had drawn the comparison with you before it had even really occurred to him. He couldn't be blamed for being intrigued about following it to its logical end, and showing you both it's not the negative it usually comes across as. At least, that's how he phrases it in his mind when he's justifying it to himself.

And if he thinks you and Felix would both look pretty in a collar, well that's just a perk he keeps to himself.

The first step is submission.

All three of you fluctuated between dominance and submission on any given day, an enthusiastic ebb and flow of control amongst the three of you, in every combination imaginable. Except Felix seems unable to fully commit himself to submitting to Oliver alone; oh he plays along without hesitation, will get on his knees for Oliver at the slightest firm tone, but he always seems more thrilled knowing your hand is on his metaphorical leash.

So Oliver takes his time figuring out what exactly will make Felix long for Oliver's hand on his throat. The solution is shockingly simple.

Praise.

It couldn't be just any praise. He'd lived his life hearing sweet words about how good he looks, or how lovely he was, it had to be deeper than that. Praise only you or Oliver could give, praise that he craved to hear, praise for the parts of himself he quietly put effort into.

Praise for being helpful, for being diligent, for being caring and genuinely thoughtful to the two of you, for being good.

"God, you're so good to me, Felix," Oliver groans in the bathroom of a house party, back pressed against the door while Felix was on his knees, Oliver's cock in his mouth. When Oliver looks down, sees Felix with a faint blush on his cheeks that's far sweeter than the rest of the debauchery of their situation, Oliver cards a hand through his hair, giving him a look that radiated just as much love as he felt for the man himself, "always so fuckin' good to me," he murmurs this time.

Felix, now bright red, all kinds of flustered, pulls back for half a second, unable to fight back a smile as he swears under his breath, but Oliver's hand in his hair tightens. Felix eyes flutter closed as Oliver, tone on his voice like a warning, tells Felix that he didn't say stop.

And Felix seems more than delighted to obey, to be as good to Oliver as he'd just been deemed.

Praise like this always made Felix all smitten and obedient and eager to please. Of course Oliver had always been quick to praise Felix, but this was different, was concentrated and specific. Once Oliver had started with these efforts, Felix seemed to grow more relaxed and eager to let Oliver become dominant over him when the mood struck him, even without the specific praise. Though the praise always helped.

The second step is acceptance.

Considering everything that had happened at Saltburn - the voyeuristic games you'd played with Oliver, the adventurous ways and places in which you and Felix would fuck, the handjob you'd given him after you caught him drinking the bath water that Felix had gotten off into that ended with you also managing to come untouched while Oliver moaned Felix's name in your ear, just to name a few - Oliver knew your sex lives would be more than a little kinky before he even officially joined this relationship. He was not disappointed.

Both you and Felix seemed more than willing to try anything, though Oliver was delighted to discover just how much you'd both already done, and were more than eager to do again.

All this to say that pet play was barely a step removed from roleplay, so he shouldn't have been surprised that you jump at the chance. At first it stays between you and Oliver, for obvious reasons that have everything to do with Felix's hangups about the derogatory way other people had often called you a dog. But when Oliver calls you 'pretty pup' for the first time, you react just the same way Felix does when praised.

Flustered. Bashful. Obedient.

Except Oliver quickly learns that you react far stronger than Felix. It seems not only were you telling the truth about being okay with the title, simply hearing it said so lovingly by Oliver, even in the most innocent situations, was enough to turn you on. It was validation you so desperately wanted, craved, your efforts and constant place by their side acknowledged and appreciated. There are times even when you're in control where you demand praise, and the words slip out.

"You're a good dog," Oliver gasps out, your legs over his shoulders, his head between your thighs. A pleased noises rumbles from somewhere in your chest and you laugh low and heady.

"You're fucking lucky to have a dog like me, Oliver Quick," comes out all lazy and confident, but his nose of agreement isn't enough for you, clearly, as your thighs momentarily tighten around him, trapping him, and he feels one of your heels press insistently against his back, "aren't you lucky," you say pointedly, warning in your voice, "to have such a good dog?" Echoing your words in agreement, they come out sounding like a breathless prayer, one he's eager to chant to see the heady, powerful smile you wear when you hear it.

Fuck he feels dizzy with lust in this moment, desperate to devour you, have his mouth on you, like his life depends on it, hoping you'll grant him the chance to fuck you - there's something about you in control that will always drive Oliver utterly mad. Actually, no matter the situation or who's in control, knowing you and Felix continue to want him, love him, choose him to share these moments with... sometimes he still can't believe he got here in the end.

He never thought he'd hear you beg, let alone for him. It's like fucking music.

When he's got you like this, under him, desperate, eager to please, mind a messy haze caught up in this fantasy being played out with you as his perfect pup - so good, so loyal, fuck you're precious, pet - where he can do or say practically anything to you, where you want him to.

"Fuck I love how pathetic you sound, pet," he mumbled into your ear, pressed against you, thrusting slow and deep, "can't even form a proper thought, can you?" He teases. Your hips stutter up into his in an inconsistent rhythm, desperate. Chiding you for it, he sits back, even as a disappointed mewl escapes you. As if moving out of instinct, you reach out, as if to try and pull him back in, and your fingers catch on the chain he still wears around his neck.

"Drop it," he orders immediately, to which you let go as if the metal had burned you. However, Oliver can feel you clench around his cock, hips rolling, pressing close to him, instinctively, "good dog," he purred, pleased, deciding to reward you by finally fucking you with intent.

So it's not you who still has to come to accept this concept. But Oliver's fairly confident you will be the main reason when Felix does come to accept it. In fact, he doesn't even bring the concept up to Felix himself; he knows you well enough that it will only be a matter of time.

It doesn't take long.

One night at the club, all three of you drunk and feeling indulgent under the lights and haze, you hear a resentful -

"Felix really can't go anywhere without his dog -"

You have to hold Felix back from searching for the girl who said it to start shouting at her, assuring him it's fine, but Oliver then has to drag you both of the dancefloor when you start unexpectedly arguing with each other. He actually genuinely can't pick exactly what the argument is about until he's got you both in one of the marginally quieter side rooms, you and Felix still arguing animatedly -

"- shouldn't even be talking about you like that, they don't even know you -" Felix snapped, while you stepped up into his space, having him in the chest.

"When the fuck have I ever cared what anyone but you thinks of me?!"

"I don't think of you as my dog!"

"How many times do I have to say that I don't mind being called your dog before you figure out that maybe I want you to call me that?!" You glare up at him, watching the confusion and mixed emotions about the idea pass over his face in rapid succession, "I'm getting sick of you taking issue with the title, and refusing to understand why I don't; am I not every fucking thing the perfect dog is to you? I am loyal," with each descriptor you gave an instant push against his chest, as if to punctuate each point, "diligent, protective, you know I'd follow you to hell and back, it makes me happy to make you happy, and yes, Felix, just like a dog, I can be obedient," Felix's gaze is shocked as you lay it all out before him. Your voice lowers, Oliver can barely hear you over the music in the next room, "but unlike a dog, I was not trained to love you, to stick by you like I do; that is a choice I made. That is a choice I continue to make happily every single day of my life. Every other asshole who calls me a dog can see it, most of them are fucking jealous because I am the one you choose to keep by your side. Why would I ever take issue with being called that? What do I have to be jealous of? I am the dog, Felix Catton, and I am yours."

It's... reductive, Oliver thinks, but it has to be to get your point across, so he keeps that to himself. He knows all too well how old this sore spot is between you two, far older than his place in your relationship. Perhaps if things hadn't worked out quite so well for him, or if he weren't so secure in his relationship with you both, perhaps he'd worry, be jealous of how you're speaking once more like you and Felix only have each other. But her knows you're not, knows that you're speaking to the version of Felix who can't let go of his discomfort at the title's implications. Part of Felix would always listen to you above all others, even Oliver, but Oliver himself had in part fallen for the way you two loved each other, he lives seeing that connection still strong, bright and alive, and knowing that you've both still chosen to love him too.

Felix, a few feet away, looks suddenly conflicted, almost upset as he tries to process and reconcile your words. However, when Felix can't seem to give a proper reaction, a look of disappointment crosses over your face, and you turn sharply, stalking from the room, from the club entirely.

"It still feels demeaning to them," Felix has been sulking the entire walk back to campus, he and Oliver having left not too long after you. Oliver bites his tongue on the fact that he knows you get off on being demeaned in the right circumstances; Felix is off course aware of this, but not the true extent. Instead, all Oliver offers is a non-committal hum. Felix pouts, still mostly talking to himself, "'s rude," he mumbled, "'s a mean thing to call someone; dog..." Though it sounds almost like a question.

"So you'd be mad if someone called you Y/N's dog?" Oliver says with a surprising amount of casualness considering he has no idea where his boldness came from. Beside him, Felix goes very quiet. Oliver pointedly doesn't look at him.

"That's different," Felix finally managed after several long, strained moments in which he'd thoroughly considered Oliver's words. Except Felix hasn't managed to sound nearly as casual as Oliver, the poor boy sounds rather abashed at the thought, though he still tries to play it off, albeit unsuccessfully, "Ollie, that's- that's completely different."

"How's it different?" Oliver needles him subtly, still giving Felix a modicum of privacy from his ever watchful eyes.

"Because it is," Felix insists, before blurring out - "because it's never happened!"

When Oliver finally looks over at Felix, he keeps his expression just on the positive side of neutral, only to be met with the sight of Felix, wide eyed, and faintly flush. Oliver blinks.

"But you are," he says easily. Felix's lips press into a thin line, face turning steadily darker with his blush as he finally stops walking. Oliver can read the 'the fuck do you mean by that?' all across Felix's flustered, intoxicated features before the man can even open his mouth to ask, so Oliver stops walking too, elaborating without hesitation, "if we're going by Y/N's metrics for what a good dog is, aren't you one too?"

This conversation was completely unexpected for Oliver too, despite how he was the one who pushed it in this direction. Beautiful, expressive Felix is already growing less tense as he turns the thoughts over in his mind. Oliver, eager to help him along on his path to acceptance, reiterates the values you'd laid out in the club -

"Loyal, diligent, protective," he lists easily, "you know you'd follow them anywhere, and do anything to make them happy," he doesn't have to say that Felix can be obedient to you to know they're both thinking it. Instead, Oliver shrugs, "but you're Felix Catton, of course no-ones going to call you a dog."

"What?" Felix's deliberation finally gives way in the face of confusion.

"Everyone knows Y/N loves you, but they don't want to think about you loving Y/N back."

"But I do," Felix's soft voice sounds so hurt by the very idea, "everyone knows I do." Oliver's own expression softens as he steps forward. Felix's brow creases in what can only be described as disappointed confusion.

"I know," he assures smoothly, "that's other people's problem, its not fair on either of you." Oliver's hand is gentle on Felix's shoulder, but Felix is still clearly bothered, even as they start walking again.

"Maybe that's why it bothered you so much," Oliver finally speaks again when they're back on campus. Felix doesn't speak, but does look to Oliver with an expression of clear confusion, "because you didn't like the idea of people thinking Y/N loved you more than you loved them." After a moment, Felix sighs, making a faint, disappointed hum of agreement.

"Did you think that?" Felix asked softly after a moment, "before you really knew us, is that what you thought of us too?" He sounds almost disappointed at the thought. Oliver, however, has to fight back a smile.

"Not even for a fuckin' second," he admits with a sharp laugh, and Felix immediately perks up with intrigue and something almost like relief, though Oliver's tone is amused as he continues, "I honestly couldn't believe no-one else could see it; never seen anyone quite so dedicated to taking care of their dog as Y/N was to looking out for you."

Felix turns bright red once more, but he's wearing that big, bashful grin Oliver's always loved.

"I am, aren't I?" Felix sounds almost giddy at the thought. Oliver feels like there's fireworks going off in his chest.

"Y/N really can't go anywhere without their dog either," Oliver teases, lovingly parroting the words that had been so cruelly overheard at the club. If Felix were any drunker or happier, he probably would have started actually skipping. As it was, however, the two of them approaching Felix's dorm building, he wraps an arm around Oliver's shoulders.

"You know all that stuff they said, all that stuff about being a good dog, you know that's how we feel about you too, Ollie," Felix can clearly tell the minute Oliver's brain short circuits, because he laughs and plants a kiss on Oliver's cheek, "sorry if you're more of a cat person, mate," he teases, as if he hadn't just suddenly rewired something in his boyfriend's brain.

You and Felix. YouAndFelix. Both love him the way a dog loves their owner. It goes beyond even any lewd fantasies he'd had; a year ago he was watching you both through his window, talking and laughing in the afternoon sun, wishing desperately that he could work up the courage to talk to either of you, befriend you.

But you and Felix - YouAndFelix, together, individually, in every single way Oliver can conceive the idea of you - both love him. Our Ollie, the way he's heard spoken so lovingly, sounds so much sweeter than he'd ever even imagined.

"You're both very sweet to me," Oliver hears himself mumble as he and Felix finally find themselves outside of Felix's door. Everything feels like it's spinning, in a way that has nothing to do with the alcohol, and everything to do with the way Felix is smiling at him. Instead of answering, though Oliver's sure there's half a dozen teasing or sappy comments trapped in the tip of Felix's tongue, he kisses him instead. Felix always seemed to know exactly when Oliver was overwhelmed with their shared reality, and always took his time to admire that look in Oliver's eyes. Now was no different.

He's always thought Oliver was so strange, so queer, so different from everyone else in his life, and so clearly loved him for it.

Felix finally is the one to break the moment, knocking lightly on the door, knowing you well enough to anticipate where you'd be despite your earlier anger. As if on cue, you sighed heavily on the other side of the door, before inviting them in.

While Felix barely gives you time to react where you're in your pyjamas, sitting in his bed in the lamp light, not even kicking off his shoes before he throws himself into your lap, wrapping his arm around your waist as he pressed his face against your thigh, Oliver hovers by the door.

"Hi, sorry, hi, love you," escapes Felix in a rush. Despite your conflicted expression, the way your hand comes to rest on his head, carding through his hair is automatic. It's an endearing, amusing sight to Oliver, considering the night that had just passed. He knows you're looking at him, questioning gaze searching for some kind of explanation for Felix's change of behaviour, but Oliver lets himself linger a few moments longer on watching Felix's almost childishly clingy behaviour.

He struggles to kick off his shoes for a moment before he finally managed, and hitch a leg up, over both of yours, still in his jeans and jacket but refusing to be anything but wrapped up in you.

"I'm not staying," is what Oliver finally says, despite the gentle affection in his voice. You frown faintly, but still seem more confused than upset, "I think you two need to talk," he explains. Despite the way your mouth flattens into a thin line, you're still gently petting Felix's hair. Still, Oliver steels himself, giving you a strange little smile, "you're a good dog, Y/N," he says pointedly. This seems to surprise you, but not as much as Felix's sitting echo.

"Such a good dog," he agrees with a fond sigh, half muffled against you. Immediately your confusion, your concern drops in favour of sweet, hopeful shock. But Oliver continues before he shuts the door, smile growing into a grin.

"So are you, Felix," and Felix's head shoots up so he can level a bright, sunny smile over his shoulder at Oliver. Christ, Oliver can practically see his tail wagging.

"Love you, Ollie," Felix beams cheerfully. While Oliver echoes the sentiment back at you both as he closes the door, you can't seem to look away from Felix.

Something warm and pleased and satisfied curls itself comfortably in Oliver's chest on the brief walk back to his own room. It goes beyond any selfish, sexual desires he's had, not that there wasn't an element of that, of course, but he can't stop thinking about the joy in Felix's expression, or the way you'd disbelieving smile you'd been wearing when Oliver had closed the door. An old ache beginning to heal.

The change is subtle at first. At least, from the outside.

After that fateful summer, the three of you had made no secret of your relationship. Felix had always been tactile and clingy and prone to shows of affection, you had always made a point to make Oliver feel included and welcome and like you craved his company, while Oliver himself had never made any secret of whose attention and contact he preferred in any group setting. So he's sure, to their friends, the three of you seem to be the same as you've always been.

Farleigh had once scoffed at the pub that the three of you were insufferably gross, and while the rest of the group at the table had agreed, it had been more teasing than malicious; on one side of Oliver, you'd pressed your laughter into his shoulder, while Felix had throw his arm around Oliver and chided Farleigh not to be jealous, wearing a wide, easy smile.

Oliver and Farleigh still may not exactly see eye to eye, but things had gotten easier between them. Across the table, Farleigh met Oliver's bashful gaze and though he'd rolled his eyes, though he seemed exasperated by all three of you, there was warmth in his eyes. He may not love Oliver, but he still loved you and Felix; baby steps.

So all that to say that at first the change is so subtle that even the ever-watchful Farleigh, who knows you and Felix better than any of your other friends, doesn't even notice.

But oh, Oliver feels the change right away.

He honestly thought the three of you weren't able to get closer, but he's never been more thrilled to be wrong. Never afraid or jealous of each other living your own lives, it just seemed that when you're around each other, you weren't interested in being seen as an individual. More possessive in the most affectionate way. Always in some kind of obvious contact, arguably too close for the comfort of others, not that any of you cared. Oliver, always shadowed by his beautiful guard dogs.

"Can I wear this?" You ask casually one evening, drinking cheap vodka and juice as you waited for Oliver to get ready to go out. When Oliver turns, half dressed after a shower, he sees you holding one of the chains he always found himself wearing. He doesn't think twice before agreeing, doesn't even think much of the request at the time. The significance is missed on him until the two of you meet up with Felix in the line for the club and he pulls you by the chain, in for a kiss. You're still holding Oliver's hand, fingers linked with his. Reading Felix's kiss for the compliment it is, you grin sharply as you pull back, stepping up beside him in line.

"Thanks, it's Ollie's."

"I know," Felix snorts a laugh, throwing an arm around you as he gives Oliver himself a sly smile, "you look good too, mate, how're you going?" You squeeze Oliver's hand, leaning into him for a moment with a coy smile. Your free hand is playing with his chain around your throat. Like you know exactly where his mind has suddenly gone.

Oliver already knows how this night will end, and it doesn't disappoint.

Neither he nor Felix can seem to leave you or the chain around your neck well enough alone, and you're clearly love it. You let yourself be lead around, let them lavish you with affection in dark corners, wearing a smile that's all teeth when you meet the surprised, scandalised gazes of those who gawked rather than averted their gaze.

In the back of the taxi on the way to campus, you're impossibly affectionate, like an excited puppy as you try and split your attention to your boyfriends either side of you.

"Settle down, love," Felix takes your hand in his, keeping you momentarily still, even as you pout.

"We'll be home soon," Oliver murmurs quietly, trying to act casual as he looks out the window, his hand coming to rest on your thigh. A faint, impatient whine escapes you, but you acquiesce, leaning your head on Felix's shoulder even as a fond laugh rumbles from his chest.

The cabbie has the radio on in the front, pointedly ignoring the three of you. But the music is loud enough that he doesn't hear the soft, approving way Felix mutters in your ear -

"Good dog."

But Oliver hears, feels the way your thighs momentarily clench together, hears the breathless, needy 'fucking hell, Fi' that escapes you. His grin grows wider.

On the walk back to your room - always cleaner than Felix's, and with a bigger, nicer bed than Oliver's - you're quiet, seemingly focusing very hard on staying that way, even as Oliver and Felix are bantering easily either side of you. Hands to yourself - well, metaphorically, Oliver and Felix are both holding one of your hands, Felix, feeling particularly joyful swings your linked hands in wide arcs between you - you listen diligently, and chime in whenever you felt your input was needed. Oliver thinks you're being incredibly endearing, but once the door is closed and the rest of the world is cut off from the three of you, Felix softly asks if you're okay.

Surprise lights up across your face the minute the question is spoken. It hadn't even occurred to you that Felix wouldn't understand your behaviour in this moment; this is far newer to him than it is to you. But then you look to Oliver, almost like you're afraid that he wouldn't understand either.

But he does, of course.

There's a faint thrill that courses through him realising that for what is perhaps the first time since he'd met you, he can read you better than Felix. That Felix was yet to understand how far from reluctant or uncomfortable you were in that moment.

Felix had told you to settle, called you a good dog when you had. So now you were trying your hardest to remain settled, to remain good. How delightfully obedient you were in these moments, in this headspace.

Oliver finally gave you a warm smile, shrugging off his jacket.

"They're being good is all," he says casually, drawing Felix's confused attention as you broke out into a wide smile at the praise. Again, Oliver has a flash, a mental image of a tail wagging with joy behind you.

"I'm being good, I'm being settled," you reiterated pointedly, standing carefully by the foot of the bed. Once more, however, you've started fussing with the chain around your neck. Felix looks back to you, as if he still can't quite grasp the full scope of what's happening, and laughs lightly.

"You're so fucking cute," he grinned, "love, you didn't have to stay settled all the way back here."

"I didn't?" Your eyes go wide with confusion, and you look again to Oliver, as if for confirmation, "but I..."

Oliver can feel his heart beating in his throat. Oh, right, he's the one who's done this before, he's the one who started this all, at least this version of this dynamic. You aren't Felix's dog in this moment, you are his.

"You did good, pet, don't worry" Oliver assures you, soothing you with a gentle tone as he steps towards you and takes your face in his hands, kissing you on the forehead. Wearing a grateful little smile, you regard him lovingly for a few moments, before he steps away and you turn your focus back to Felix. There's a hungry kind of intrigue in his big, brown eyes now as he takes the scene in with newfound understanding.

"You really are a good dog," Felix marvels approvingly. Your whole face lights up at that, stumbling a few steps forwards, as if you hadn't meant to move but needed to be close to him. Nodding furiously in agreement, your fingers fidget like you're trying desperately not to reach for him. Felix steps towards you, his smile growing wider as he does so, "mine- ours?" He corrects, wrapping his arms around you, and finally your resolve breaks.

"Both," you assure in a rushed breath before you're pulling him in, kissing him frantically, as all the longing you'd held back since you'd been told to settle floods through you. Once fidgeting hands now start frantically tugging at clothing, both yours and his, but Felix is matching your energy entirely. Oliver gets hit in the face with your jacket as it's flung across the room but neither you nor Felix notices. In his enthusiastic haste several of the buttons on your nice, expensive shirt are ripped off, pinging around the room.

Not that Oliver actually minds.

Still in his jeans, he leans his hip against your desk and watches for a few long moments with both a lewd appreciation, and amusement. Perhaps another day, or when it was just the two of you, Felix would invest himself properly in a version of this fantasy where you truly are his dog. Tonight, however, Oliver sees opportunity in the obvious, messy, needy way Felix is pawing at you. An opportunity for his plan to finally be realised, and he's not letting it pass him by.

When you fall back on the bed, Felix braced over you, your hand finding his fly while the two of you still haven't stopped to really breathe, Oliver sticks two fingers in his mouth to let out a sharp whistle.

Immediately there's silence, the attention of both of you having immediately snapped to Oliver. Shaking his head with faux exasperation, Oliver sighs loudly, as if terribly put upon.

"Can't take you two anywhere," he tsked, crossing his arms over his chest, "pair of naughty fuckin' puppies, you can't leave each other alone."

Felix blinks quickly, as if caught of guard by the shift in tension, the dynamic.

"Ollie, what are you -"

"Ollie, don't be mean, Fi's the best dog, take that back!" You chided despite your wide grin.

"Is he now?" Oliver asks archly, smirking at you both. Felix isn't quite looking at him, expression drawn and thoughtful as he processed this change, turned it over in his mind. Slowly, he looks down at you, at your soft, warm smile. A silent conversation between you both, one of many that Oliver will only ever be able to guess at, and you close your eyes as you sit up enough to press your forehead to Felix's.

Felix visibly relaxed, which you must feel judging by the way you grin.

"It's fun, I promise," your whisper, though in the cool, quiet night, Oliver can still hear it clearly.

"But he called me naughty, I can't believe it," Felix whined playfully, causing you to laugh as the two of you sank back down on the bed. Felix tucked himself up beside you, face half hidden where he was pressing his lips to your shoulder to hide his little smile, "you're so mean to me, Ollie." It sounded as though he was pouting, but his eyes betrayed him, nervous and tentative to be adapting and playing along with the bit, but clearly more than a little excited too. There's also something tearing, almost challenging about the way Felix was running his fingertips up and down the side of your chest.

"You are being naughty," Oliver finally pushes off of the desk, sauntering over to the bed, "both of you acting like I didn't exist."

"Can you blame me?" You actually giggled, sounding downright gleeful, "look at who we get to play with!" Felix flushed at that, pressing his bashful smile against your shoulder. Oliver finds himself really quite taken with how you've chosen to adapt to having Felix by your side in this fantasy.

"If I can't blame you," Oliver says with faint notes of faux warning in his voice as he sits by you both on the bed, "are you saying I should blame Felix? Is our new pet a bad influence." You stumble over your words for moment, searching for a denial, but Felix's head shoots up at that, his eyes wide as he props himself up on the bed beside you.

"Hey, I'm a good influence! I'm good!" He insists, the words coming to him so automatically that it seems to startle even him before he properly focuses back on Oliver's fond amusement. Felix grins sheepishly at his own enthusiasm, ducking his head to look instead at you as he reiterated with a soft giggle, "I'm good."

"I think you're very good," there's love on your tongue, in your eyes as you gaze up at him. Then, in the next moment, you wriggle yourself over to rest your head against Oliver's thighs, gazing up at him with a pout, "come on, Ollie, don't be mean," you practically whined, while Felix himself half draped himself across your middle, his head resting on your belly as he turned his full attention and hopeful brown eyes upon your boyfriend. It was far more convincing than Oliver had been expecting, and he actually feels his hard resolve beginning to falter under the combined force of both your longing gazes.

"We're sorry for neglecting you," you add sweetly, expression earnest as your fingers begin to card through Felix's hair. For a moment, Oliver watches the way Felix's eyes fall closed, leaning into the sensation.

"Can we make it up to you?" Despite Felix's soft voice, his smile was already all kinds of pleased and contented, "we're good at that," he insists. God, Oliver knows all too well that you both are; fucking hell, part of him may never believe this isn't a dream. Except he knows his definitely not dreaming when he feels the delicate touch of your free hand on his knee, moving higher - or as high as you're able given the awkward angle your arm is at.

"Play with us, let us make it up to you," giving Oliver thigh a squeeze you grinned up at him. Without giving him a moment to respond, however, you made a tsk noise in the back of your throat, "you're so overdressed. Fi -" you tap Felix's head gently to get his attention once more, and Felix's eyes open, alight and at attention, "he's so overdressed, don't you think?" Immediately Felix is sitting up, agreeing.

"Think we should help him with that," Felix says frankly, wearing a pleased little grin like he's excited to be helpful. All over-eager and enthusiastic, both you and Felix are suddenly all over Oliver, working together to get him out of his jeans before he can even wonder where he'd lost control of the situation.

Playfully victorious, you're peppering Oliver's face with excited kisses as Felix is kneeling by the bed, tugging the now free jeans down his thighs. Despite the chaos of it all, Oliver's laughing loud and bright, trying his best to get his arms around you to still some of the kinetic love you're showering him with.

"Come on, Ollie," Felix, however, gets caught up halfway through his own job, and presses a kiss to his knee, hands coming to rest, flat and warm on Oliver's thighs, "how'd you expect to get off with those on?" But he sounds so light and joyful; Oliver's heart is fucking singing in this moment.

"Oi, sit," Oliver tries to order between his own laughter and your lips on his every few moments. It takes him another second to claw back some of his composure, "both of you, sit," at least this time you both listen, despite him still radiating breathless amusement.

Felix looks to you for a moment, watches the way you settle yourself, cross-legged and hands in your lap as you fought back a smile, and sits back on his heels, wearing a sheepish grin of his own as he looks back to Oliver. Oliver has to take a moment to compose himself, barely restraining his own laughter, before he kick his pants off from around his ankles. Felix takes the opportunity to then lean in and rest his chin on Oliver's knee, wide, affectionate grin on his face that Oliver practically melts at. He can't help himself -

"Who's a good boy?" He teases Felix, reaching over to scratch at Felix's scalp lightly. Again, Felix eyes close at his nose scrunches with a strange little smile.

"If it's not me I'm actually going to be so upset," he mutters, sounding almost embarrassed by the thought. It takes a moment for his words to sink, and he followed it with a snort of amusement, before all three of you are laughing in the warm privacy of your bedroom, and this moment.

"Of course it's you," Oliver reassures him, coaxing him up onto the bed, shifting to sit back against the headboard with room for you both on either side. Felix looks far less embarrassed and far more pleased now, leaning in when Oliver coaxes him in for a kiss, "my helpful, good boy," Oliver murmurs against his lips, and Felix lets out a breathless, pleased noise as he wraps an arm around Oliver's neck, kissing him back almost desperately. Oliver would always love how Felix was so wonderfully consistent when it came to his praise kink.

Beside him, he can feel you shift on the bed, and in the next moment, your hand is on his thigh. When he and Felix both look to you, breaking their focus on one another, you've settled yourself by Oliver's thighs. Leaning in, you gently nudge at his cock where it's staining against the material of his boxers with your nose, before proceeding to kiss softly up his shaft through the material. Sing when you reach the head, you sit back a little, giving pause as two of your fingers hooked into the elastic of his waistband. Finally met his gaze, looking up at him through your lashes expectantly, want in your eyes that has Oliver's already quick heartrate thundering in his chest.

"Thought I told you to sit," he says wryly. You wet your lips, hips shifting a little.

"I am sitting," you pointed out, which set Felix off, had him pressing his amused chuckle against Oliver's shoulder. You did, however, remain obediently still. Except for the challenging smile that graced your lips, "wanted to make up for ignoring you."

Felix's laughter, however, had died down at that, and the hand that had been around Oliver was now trailing feather-light down his bare chest, past your own, to wrap around Oliver's aching hard cock, still trapped behind a thin layer of cotton.

"Just gotta say the word," Felix murmurs into his ear. His hand begins to slowly work up and down Oliver's cock. Oliver watches you lean down and press a kiss to the soft skin of his belly, by his hip, just above his waistband, while Felix was pressing languid kisses along his jaw.

"Both so good to me," Oliver groaned, gently pushing at Felix's shoulder, though he takes the hint and joins you by Oliver's thighs.

A moment passes between you both, Felix taking your face in his free hand and pulling you in for an intense kiss that only somehow manages to make Oliver even more painfully turned on than he already was. Both still half dressed, you're both practically overflowing with love for each other and Oliver in this moment. The kiss breaks and youre both grinning foreheads pressed together; Oliver's never been truly able to read the exact things that pass between you in these moments of silent communication, but he thinks he sees 'see, I told you this was fun' in the way you smile.

And as much as he adores this moment, he's pretty sure if someone doesn't actually touch his dick soon he's going to die.

"'s there a reason you're keeping me waiting?" Oliver asks archly; Felix's grin grows wider, while you give him a faintly guilty smile, apologising softly before you pull down his boxers. Finally.

Oliver's hips buck the second your fingers wrap around him, leaning down with intent to -

"Hey!" Felix almost sounds indignant that you'd taken his place, a thought which sends a thrill through Oliver. You look up at this, but the minute you're distracted Felix has bent down to run his tongue along the head of Oliver's cock, tasting the precum beading there before he's taking Oliver into his mouth.

"Fi, that's cheating!" You whined, pouting with your free hand braced against Oliver's thigh - "Ollie, Fi's cheating!" You pouted, to which Felix raised his head to defend himself, gleefully and entirely submersed in this roleplay.

"I'm not cheating," he tried to declare, however you dipped down in an attempt to usurp him. Felix, seemingly anticipating this, refuses to move, instead letting you headbutt him, the two of you in a playful stalemate while you attempted to keep up a consistent rhythm with your hand still on Oliver's cock. Tension, with neither of you backing down, breaks only when one of you - though Oliver's genuinely not sure which - seems to realise the reality of the situation, and how close you both are, and suddenly you're aggressively making out.

Not in Oliver's wildest dreams would he ever have imagined that he could have the two of you fighting over who gets the privilege of going down on him. It's going to take all of his willpower if he wants to last much longer. But he needs to last at least a bit longer, needs to take back control, to make sure this plays out well for both of you too.

So Oliver calls your name, and you and Felix break apart. Your eyes are on Oliver, wide eyed and breathing hard.

"No fighting," he chided, and you wet your lips, sitting back a little as Felix takes this as his victory. Oliver coaxes you up to him, part of him sad to lose the feeling of your talented fingers around him, but Felix is more than capable, and more than makes up for it. Oliver wraps an arm around you, his free hand guiding one of yours to Felix's head as it bobbed up and down between Oliver's thighs, "you're going to help him, you can do that, can't you?" His words are gentle, commanding, and even as you still seem to be playing at sulking, you give a small nod. Felix groans appreciatively as your grip tightens on his hair, which Oliver echoes as he feels it himself.

You're beginning to squirm. Good. He's been utterly thrilled by how tonight has been playing out, but Oliver always enjoys when you finally fall into being desperately obedient. He wants to show Felix how good of a dog you really are.

Oliver pulls you in closer, nose to nose, smirking as the playful fight in you was giving way quickly to pure desire.

"Our good boy, isn't he? Our Felix," Oliver's voice is loud enough for you both to hear; Felix moans around his cock, shifting to get a better angle, to take Oliver deeper, as deep as he can. Your breath catches, pupils blown wide. There was something truly, almost sickeningly fascinating about what he could only describe as your Praise-Kink-By-Proxy; you clearly got off to the way Oliver lusted over Felix, that much was made clear that night in the bathtub at Saltburn, and Oliver could see it in your eyes again now.

"Our Felix," you'd mumbled breathlessly, casting your gaze to him as Oliver lazily trialled kisses down your jaw and throat. Felix doesn't stop, your hand on his head still making sure he keeps a consistent rhythm, but he does look up, does meet your lust-filled gaze, does see how your hips and thigh are shifting. Oliver brings your gaze back to him by tugging at his chain around your throat, and it's all you need to kiss him. He doesn't let it go. Sloppy and passionate, he moans Felix's name into your mouth and you whimper desperately at the sound. His hips are rolling, matching Felix's rhythm as his cockhead presses insistently against the back of his throat, and you're panting and whining and unable to find any real relief -

"Did I say you could touch yourself?" Oliver murmured sharply the minute he feels you reaching for the waistband of your own pants with your free hand. You whimpered, and his grip on the chain around your neck grows tighter. Squeezing your eyes closed as you shook your head, traitorous hand moving to dig your fingernails into your thigh, "are you going to settle down for me?" He whispered, lips brushing yours as you squirmed helplessly.

"This is unfair," you moaned, and Oliver's grip around you grew tighter, "Ollie, please -"

"You fucking love when I'm unfair to you," he hissed with an almost cruel smugness as you gasped, hips beginning to roll and rutt against nothing.

"Ollie, don't be mean," Felix raised his head, hand going still on Oliver's desperately twitching cock, an actual note of warning in his voice. Oliver smirks at him, all lazy, arrogant confidence. He maneuvers you, pulls you back from him to let Felix properly see the way your lip is beginning to tremble with how desperate you were for satisfaction or even just a hint of relief. Still, you tried to press yourself against him, even as your back arched wantonly and your thighs pressed together, shifting in search of friction that was still upsetting absent from where you desired it most.

"You think I'm being too mean right now?" Oliver whispered in your ear; unfortunately for you, Oliver knows all too well how much you love this game. After a moment of hesitation, your gaze locked with Felix's. It's as if you're embarrassed to be seen in this state, the way you'd so willingly let Oliver drive you mad with desire. Averting your gaze from Felix's, you swallow hard.

"No," the single word comes out as a sulky kind of whimper.

"And why's that?" Oliver prompted, adding slyly, "you made Felix worry." He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek.

"He's -" you tired your head back with a desperate groan as Oliver raked the nails of his free hand up your side, "he's always good to me in the end." You pouted, clearly still thinking it was unfair being denied in the moment.

"You promise?" Felix asks firmly, looking Oliver in the eyes now.

"Promise," Oliver smirks back, whispering against your skin that if you're a good for him, he'll let Felix play with you. The desperate noise that escapes you is incredibly telling, and one Oliver knows all too well as the indication that you were on the edge of being incoherent. Good, he loves getting you to this point, and loves even more the way Felix is looking at you right now.

"You're doing so well, Felix, don't keep them waiting," Oliver insisted. At that you reached out once more, hand coming to rest on Felix's head, petting him gently before he allowed you to guide him back down to Oliver's spit-slicked and waiting cock. Oliver's grip on the chain shifts, the metal loose between his fingers as he carefully, delicately, wraps his hand around your throat. Your pleading expression is so deliciously needy when Oliver pulls you back in against him.

"Good dog," he presses the praise against your trembling lips.

It's like a beautiful symphony, better than any wet dream or fantasy he'd ever had, and he hadn't even fucked either of you yet. He moans Felix's name into your mouth when he finally comes undone, his hand resting on yours atop Felix's hair as he takes it all and swallows every last drop.

"So fucking good, Felix," Oliver's breathing hard as he comes down from the euphoric high he'd just experienced, scratching gently at Felix's scalp as he raised his head, pleased grin on his face. When Felix sits up, out of both of your grips, your hand immediately goes between your thighs, desperate to touch yourself but still fighting the urge, trapping it while still making your intent obvious.

But while Oliver is more than satisfied, you, tucked up against him, are all but a mess as he cradled you close.

"Come on, Ollie," Felix climbs over his legs to be by your side. His smile is warm and fond, and when Felix's hand comes to rest on your hip, your soft, whining noises become more audible, "the poor thing deserves a treat."

Oliver feels the way you shiver and tense with anticipation at Felix's words, nose then bumping insistently against Oliver's jaw, keening noises catching in your throat. You were begging in the only way you have left, now that you'd found yourself deep enough in this headspace.

"Look at him," Oliver murmured, sounding almost proud as you turned your desperate, hopeful gaze upon Felix, "he's even being good to you."

Taking it as a blessing, you're immediately scrambling to your knees by Felix, no longer whining, and clearly overjoyed. One hand pulling him in for a kiss, your other was frantically trying to remove your pants.

"Not ignoring you," Felix insisted to Oliver as you'd broken the kiss if only to pitch yourself back on the bed in an effort to wriggle desperately out of your pants, "just -"

"Settle down," Oliver ordered suddenly, and you suddenly went still, ceasing the way you'd been fighting with your pants around your ankles, "help them, Felix," she sighs with fond exasperation. Of course Felix does, but it's like a switch has flipped; he's back on board, a good dog still, just like you. Once your pants are off, Felix is trailing kisses up your legs, much to your clear glee -

"You puppies are so stupid," Oliver shakes his head, affection in his words, "you're lucky you're cute," but still both of you turn to him with a a sad kind of confusion. Oliver tries not to laugh, he really tries, you're both somehow hot and adorable at the same time, "Felix, you're still wearing pants."

Somehow, this seems to surprise both of you, and again you're up 'I can help, I can help, I can help' radiating enthusiastically from you as you make quick work of finally undoing Felix's fly, as you'd attempted to earlier in the evening. The two of you share soft giggles as Felix's hard cock is freed and his pants are tossed to the side, leaving him standing on the floor at the edge of the bed where you're up on your knees, looking up at him. Like this, he still manages to dwarf you, and Oliver watches with an aroused fascination as this moment plays out.

Felix doesn't speak, it's as if he's matching your energy, understanding your headspace, he's confident and even cocky in a way that Oliver doesn't often see from him. He remembers saying 'if you're good, I'll let Felix play with you' and it seemed some primative part of Felix's mind has taken that to heart as he held tight to the chain around your throat, leaning in with an unmistakable huger in his eyes. It has you practically melting, hands on his hips, not daring to stray further without his approval. He doesn't even kiss you, he holds you at bay with his lips inches from yours and a hand firm on your collar, drinking in your desperation. You begin to whimper again, shifting your weight back and forth, hips rocking in anticipation; Oliver's sure he'll be able to see the marks your nails leave on Felix's hips when you finally let go.

Another silent conversation between you both, but so clear, so loud, so simple Oliver can hear it loud and clear. Felix is telling you, in no uncertain terms, that in this moment you are his, and every part of you agrees. Yet Oliver knows with a smug, self satisfaction, that he with one word you would both be by his side. So he'll let you both have this.

A year ago, he would have paid his entire life savings and then some to get to see you two in a moment like this. Already, he's getting hard again; a familiar, voyeuristic thrill runs through him as he drinks you both in, taking his cock in hand.

Felix barely has to tip his head, letting go of your necklace, before you're moving quickly, a moment vague and indecipherable to anyone else is a clear directive for you to turn. It's a flurry of movement after that, of Felix's hands on you, on your hips to pull you close, your lower back to have you bending, face pressed to the mattress. Your ass in the air, presented to him perfectly, he slides into you, drawing unholy noises from you both after so long spent waiting already that night.

Oliver basks in this moment, can only imagine how good you must feel right now, all tight and warm and completely and utterly desperate to be filled. Felix's groan is its own kind of beautiful, finally finding his voice again as absolutely filthy praise spills from his lips. Hips rocking back to meet each of Felix's slow, deep thrusts, your breathing is shaky amid the low, pleased noises that escape you. Beautiful, a creature of mindless want and desire, you've got one shaking hand between your thighs as the other reaches out, searching blindly for Oliver.

Face pressed into the plush duvet, you link your fingers with Oliver's the moment he reaches out to you. Your grip is tight, and he runs his thumbs in comforting rhythms against your hands, something pleased, loving, and so fucking turned on as Felix was quickly coming to fuck you like an absolute animal. The way you so desperately craved.

"Perfect," Felix moaned, "god you're so fucking perfect for us, pet, aren't you?" Nodding weakly, as much as your able, you clutch at Oliver's hand; his teasing had clearly already worked you up, brought you close. Both of you.

"Our good dog," Oliver murmurs, just to hear you whimper.

Fuck, he can't wait to watch you come undone.

Can't wait to make you both sit, roll over, beg.