#you can do way more for whatever cause if your alive

[boobav]

There was always something unspoken between you and Viktor.

After the attack, you were certain you'd never get the chance to explore it. Find the words, hidden as they were, bring them together into something satisfactory. With smoke in your throat and blood on your tongue, you'd seen Viktor in the rubble, barely comprehended the mumble of Jayce's voice through ringing ears.

You thought then that the words would never be spoken. The sentence never brought to fruition, whatever that may mean. A ripe fruit left to rot.

And, now, with Viktor alive, weary against your headboard and awfully silent, you think again that the words are a lost cause.

"Can I see?" Is all you ask.

He raises a hand, sinewy purple accented by pure gold, and lets his robe fall loose to pool around his hips.

There's no sensuality in the way you examine him. The way you eye every curve in the dim candlelight, every meeting of gold and purple, the shade failing to find a name in your mind. The way you shuffle forwards, almost unconsciously, the way his hand finds yours when you come to straddle him. The touch is hesitant, fearful, almost. He looks to you for assurance as though weaving his fingers through yours could somehow offend.

Your free hand finds his collarbone, his chest, sinks down to his torso with a terribly gentle touch.

"Does it hurt?"

"I don't think so."

His voice, the sweet tone you've grown so accustomed to, remains intact. Changed, in a way, by a humming undertone. A simmering of something powerful present even in voice. Your hand finds his face, the pale skin beneath your palm, and the sound he makes is quiet. A mix of confusion and pleasure. Your thumb runs over his cheek, your fingers knead through his hair.

He's afraid, or something close to that. The sensation you bring to him seems to closely match the definition of fear, the uncertainty of it all. He slips his hand from yours, lets it rest instead on the curve of your waist. On skin covered by cloth. He feels it safer that way. He seems, now, to feel everything acutely at once, and yet, to feel nothing in its entirety. Apathy and passion pressed together into an amalgam of unknowns.

Your touch seems to be the only certain reality. Your quiet questions. Your deep breaths, your steady heart. He raises his hand to feel it in your chest. Encased in bone and flesh, your life, so terribly delicate against him.

The words sit heavy on your tongue. You feel almost like this is your last chance to speak, like the Viktor visiting you now is a shadow. No more quiet afternoons in the laboratory. No more shared lunches and exchanged laughs. Simplicity shattered, for better or for worse. He feels the same. You see it in his eyes, in the way his lips part, in the way his brow furrows so subtly.

"I should've said it sooner," you say, faces close, both equally enraptured by the intricacies of expression, "I care about you a lot. I should've..."

His kiss is gentle. It fills you with warmth, makes your chest feel as though it were stuffed with flowers and ginger. When you part, you watch the colours of his eyes swirl, mumble honeyed words against his lips.

It's selfish, you know. Thanking the powers that be that his life was spared, however changed it may be, however against persistence he may seem.

His face falls to the crook of your neck. You hold him like an idol, a prized possession thought lost.

And you hope, so deeply it burns, that he too can feel warmth in his chest. His hands wrap around you, the stream of something you can't begin to comprehend running through the skin, and you pray solely that he can still feel the way you do.

That the words can still find meaning in his mind.

[nerdyqueerandjewish]

Keep being like hmm maybe I’ll distract myself with tumblr ope - nope. People repeating about how you can actually ~do something~ with your life by ending it is not what I need when I’m in the hole jfc

[philosophicallie]

my vitriolic hate for the parentals only grows btw. everything i overhear is in fact a big fat negative in our relationship

[zooophagous]

So why do you hate the advertising industry?

Hokay so.

Let me preface this with some personal history. It's not relevant to the sins of the advertising industry perse but it illustrates how I started to grow to hate it.

I wanted to be a veterinarian growing up, but to be a vet you basically have to be good enough to get into medical school. I do not have the math chops or discipline to make it in medical school. I went into art instead, and in a desperate attempt to find some commercial viability that didn't involve moving to California, I went into graphic design.

I've been a graphic designer for about seven or eight years now and I've worn a lot of hats. One of them was working in a print shop. Now, the print shop had a lot of corporate customers who had various ad campaigns. One of them was Gate City Bank, which had a bigass stack of postcards ordered every couple months to mail to their customers.

Now, paper comes from Dakota Paper, and they make their paper the usual way. Somewhere far, far from our treeless plain there is a forest of tall trees. These trees are cut down and put on big fossil fuel burning trucks and hauled to a paper mill that turns them into pulp while spewing the most fowl odors imaginable over the neighboring town and loads the pulp up with bleach to give it a nice white color.

Then the paper is put on yet another big truck and hauled off to the local paper depot, then put on another big truck and delivered to my print shop, where I turned the paper into postcards telling people to go even deeper into debt to buy a boat because it's almost summer. The inks used are a type of nasty heat sensitive plastic that is melted to the surface of the paper with heat. Then the postcards are put on yet ANOTHER truck and sent to the bank, which puts them on ANOTHER truck and finally into the hands of their customers, who open their mail and take one look at the post card and immediately discard it.

Heaps and heaps and literal hundreds of pounds of literal garbage created at the whim of the marketing team several times a year. And thats just one bank in one city.

I came to realize very quickly that graphic design was the delicate art of turning trees into junk mail.

And wouldn't you know it there are a TON of companies that basically only do junk mail. Many of them operate under the guise of a "charity," sending you pictures of suffering children or animals and begging for handouts and when they get those handouts the executives take a nice fat cut, give some small token amount to whatever cause they pay lip service to, and then put the rest of the cash right back into making more mailers. "Direct mail marketing" they call it.

Oh but maybe it's not so bad, you can advertise online after all. Now that there's decent ad blocker out there and better anti-virus ads usually don't destroy your computer anymore just by existing.

Except now when I search for the exact business I want on Google it's buried under three or four different "promoted search items" tricking me into clicking on them only to shoot themselves in the foot because I searched for the specific result I wanted for a reason and couldn't use those other websites even if I felt like it.

And now we have advertising on YouTube and on every streaming service, forcing more and more eyes onto the ad for the brand new Buick Envision that parks itself because you're too stupid to do it on your own.

Oh thats ok maybe I'll get Spotify premium and go ad free and listen to some podcasts- SIKE we have the hosts of your show doing the song and dance now. Are you depressed and paranoid from listening to my true crime podcast about murdered and mutilated teenagers? That's ok, my sponsor Better Help can keep you sane enough to stay alive and spend more money.

It's gotten so terrible that now you have content farms, huge hubs of shell companies that crank out video after video to get more and more precious clicks. Which if the videos were innocuous maybe that wouldn't be so awful except now you have cooking hacks that can actually burn your house down and craft hacks that can electrocute you being flung into your eyes at the speed of mach fuck so some slimy internet clickbait jockey doesn't need to get a real job.

It of course goes without saying that animals are also relentlessly exploited by clickbait companies that will put them in compromising situations on purpose to create a fake fishing hack video or even just straight up killing them for sport by feeding small animals to a pufferfish that rips them apart for the camera.

And all of this, ALL of this doesn't even touch how adveritising is the death of art in general. Queer topics, any kind of interesting art, any kind of sex or substance use topics are scrubbed clean and hidden at the behest of advertisers.

Sex education, a nude statue, topics such as racism or sexism or bigotry in general have tags purged or hidden from search, even life saving information about SDTs or drug use, because if someone saw that and complained then Verizon might sell fewer tablets and we can't fucking have that.

Conservative talking heads often bitch and moan that they're being censored on social media. The stupid part is, they're right! They are being censored! But it's not by a woke mob, it's by ATT and Coca Cola not wanting their adspace sharing screen time with their stupid fucking opinions.

However, they won't ever figure that out, because the talking heads they get their marching orders from like Tucker and Jones ALSO rely on the sweet milk flowing from the sponsorship teat and they aren't about to turn on their meal ticket so they have to come up with even stupider shit to say for the train to continue rolling.

I managed to rant this far without even getting into the ads I see for the beauty industry. The other day a botox ad described wrinkles as "moderate to severe crows feet" as if wrinkles are a symptom of a fucking serious disease! Like having a flaw in your skin is a medical problem that you need thousands of dollars of literal botulism toxin to fix! I was incandescent with anger.

Advertising is a polluting, censoring, anti educational and anti art industry at it's very core. It destroys human connections, suppresses human thought and makes us hate our own bodies. It ads no value, actively detracts from value, and serves no real purpose and I believe it should be almost if not entirely banned.

[aces-and-angels]

artwork by raghad qanou follow: @rhq2744 verified ✔: no. 221 on el-shab-hussein/nabulsi's sheet

dear moots/lovely lurkers- please read 🖤

raghad has finally reached the very first milestone in her fundraiser! that's right gang, thanks to the continuous support of friends/strangers alike, raghad's family has raised a whopping ✨£5,095✨as promised, here is another beautiful original by miss raghad herself 🖤

for those who haven't gotten a chance to meet her yet, please allow raghad to introduce herself in her own words:

Hello everyone, I am Raghad Qanou, a second-year human medicine student at Al-Azhar University in Gaza, or rather, I was like that, before I lost everything, literally everything... Before the 7th of October, me and my family [8 members] were living in our cute house in the Shujaiya neighborhood in Gaza, after huge suffering to repair it and return to living in it after it was destroyed in the 2014 war on Gaza. My family and I were forced to leave our home and forcibly move under fire 7 times so far! All this to escape death and hold on to the last shred of hope for a decent life! excerpt from raghad's gfm campaign page (read full story here)

i first met raghad sometime in june after she messaged me here on tumblr. one of the first things she shared with me (besides her name lol) was this piece:

title: waiting for a ceasefire "only hope and art keep us alive here in gaza ...." -raghad qanou

since then, we've been able to chat a handful of times-- i told her how much i loved her artwork and she excitedly shared even more of her work with me

raghad is a talented artist- a loving sister- a diligent student- a wonderful daughter- and someone who deserves a chance to live a life worth living. her whole family does

they continue to suffer through horrific living conditions and rely on y'all to help carry their burden. to reveal yourself so vulnerably to the world is far from easy. so often, we are told to grit our teeth and push through whatever ails us in silence. but this is a type of pain that cannot and should not be felt alone. and it will take everyone to band together so we can begin to heal

raghad's campaign still has a long way to go. to help things move along, i am proposing another art reveal ✨

if we can get raghad to £15K- i will unveil another beautiful piece from her collection of artwork!

as of posting, raghad's family has raised £5,095 / £55,000.

for those able, please consider donating by clicking the link below + share this post so others may get the chance to help out too 🖤

tags for reach below cut (note: sorry gang, ik we're not really moots. if you're here- it's cause i pulled people from a post that promoted a gfm in the past. please let me know if you do not wish to be tagged in future posts. no hard feelings, truly 🖤)

@juneybug @kodigobacktosleep @apocalyptic-dancehall @imnotthepersonyouseek @toonirl 

@kingofthebookcase @kazehita @yonch @pinkdreamscape1 

@king-dail @caseys-soup-corner @shoogachi @killy @missusmousse 

@j0ckhead @whoopsiedaisy20 @squidie-tittie @dreamingamongthestars @trexpel 

@mischief16 @foulharbor @draginfyre16 @tangerinesteve @3amsnow 

@fruitpuddle @wallsong @selkiesmile @suzakus-canon-wife @turquoisewavesstitch

@loutrem @thatlethalsoul @visemes @orange-coloredsky @dweamdoodles

@just-a-girl-0001 @samrobotize @aunty-matter @gamelpar 

@roachie-paradise @queruloustea @ehjane @firebird963 @butchdykekondraki 

@dinofur @cthulhu-with-a-fez @purplenickel @ysngie @paper-mario-wiki

[vienssunshine]

It's Too Much

pairing: Choso Kamo x fem!reader nsfw: dom!reader, inexperienced!Choso, premature ejaculation word count: 1.5k author's note: this idea took third place in the poll, but i was extra inspired from a tiktok my friend sent me description: Choso has been touch-starved for so long that, when you touch him, it can be a lot, maybe even too much

Choso has never felt another's body against his own that wasn’t attempting to hurt him. For all 150 years he’s been alive up until he met you, physical contact meant pain. But now, he’s beginning to learn that that isn't completely true.

There are similarities between a touch of pain versus…pleasantness might be the word—he hasn’t sorted it out completely yet—as a feeling lingers after contact. A strike leaves an aching bruise, the afflicted area reminding him of the injury whenever the slightest pressure is applied, but when you place a gentle hand on Choso’s shoulder while speaking to him, it leaves behind something entirely different. 

The best way he can describe the initial feeling is as a warmth, and not just due to the intrinsic heat from where your flesh meets his, but one that swells in his chest and spreads out to the rest of his body. After you leave, your touch doesn’t require a mark on his skin or a painful sting like a bruise needs to be remembered, rather, the outline of where your fingers laid on his shoulder simmers on his skin for the rest of the day. 

You fluster him with your casual touches–placing your hand on his forearm or leaning your head on his shoulder–but it helps him work up the courage to start acting on his own desires to feel you. He appreciates how you let him take his time as he explores the little things, like the feeling of holding your hand, intertwining his roughened fingers with yours. He looks up to your face, making sure what he's doing is okay, and you give him a gentle smile, telling him he's doing great. There is that warmth in his chest again. He realizes he likes the feeling of you praising him—a lot. 

Soon, he starts asking for more: to cup your cheeks, pet your hair. One day, he asks to hold your body against his on the bed, feeling your softness and warmth while working hard to regulate the influx of emotions your proximity inspires. Yet, it gets the better of him and he asks something that’s been on his mind for a while: if he can kiss you.

You accept, of course, and with your lips so soft and sweet, things quickly develop, escalating to the point where you are on top of him, straddling his big legs, and kissing down his bare chest to his waistband. He tries to keep still, but your lips feel so good and his hips betray that, gently thrusting up and into you.

“S-sorry,” Choso says, “I…I can’t control it.”

You look up from his chest. “It’s okay, Choso,” you say as you drag your hands down his abs to his waistband, deepening the pink dusted upon his cheeks, “It seems like you want more.” 

“Mhmm,” Choso whimpers, watching as you tuck your fingertips into his waistband and pull it down, freeing his sensitive erection.

Your hands wrap around his length and his eyes flutter closed in bliss. Being touched there is a new sensation for Choso and it’s stirring up a feeling he hasn’t had much experience with.

He thinks it’s arousal, which is, according to Mahito, what causes humans to “fuck.” But Mahito always spoke about fucking in a negative light, describing it as disgusting, primal thing humans do. That perspective doesn't make sense to Choso anymore because whatever you are igniting in him, if it is that aroused feeling Mahito described, feels so good he thinks he would die if you stopped. 

“Do you like this, Choso?” you ask as you stroke him. Hearing his name fall so sweetly from your lips sends a shiver through Choso’s body. 

“I-I do,” he says, moaning when you pay special attention to his pink tip, stimulating the sensitive area with your fingers in a tight circle. He’s been unconsciously bucking his hips up into your fist, chasing more of this unfamiliar sensation that has pressure to build up in his stomach.

“Then, would you like it if I put it inside of me?” 

He hadn’t considered that as a possibility, already so pleasure-drunk from feeling your palm against him, but there’s no way he can refuse your offer. 

“Yes. Yes—fuck—please do that.”

“Alright, Choso,” you say, getting off of him, “You just sit still, okay?” 

His breathy whine tells you that the last thing he wants to do is sit still. You smile, he looks so cute when he’s desperate.

“Just a little bit longer,” you say, intentionally moving slower than necessary just to see how long the poor curse can hold out.

He watches as you pull down your underwear, and the second you remove it, he grabs you by the wrist and pulls you back on top of him. Then he’s pressing hot, sloppy kisses to your neck, devouring it like a man starved. His passion and intensity make up for his lack of experience, though you note he’s getting the hang of it.

Choso’s barrage of affection is halted by a surprised gasp when you grip his erection and align yourself with it. The hunger in your eyes reminds him of how out of his element he is, but he doesn’t let it scare him, rather, he lets it feed his desire of making you feel as good as he does. 

You hold the tip to your entrance and Choso’s breath hitches when he feels the wetness and warmth of your hole. Slowly, as to not overwhelm, you sink down on him, and he moans—sweet and unbridled—from the way your walls hug him. 

“I’ve—hah—never…felt something like this,” he says, eyes pressed closed, wrinkling the thin black mark running just underneath them. 

Your hands fall onto his built chest as you make it all the way down on him, driving the entirety of his long, slender dick deep within you. His hands fly to your hips when it happens, but then one grabs for your wrist on his chest, circling his fingers around it, needing you to help him through this new sensation. 

“Feels good?” you ask, your voice breathy.

“Feels s’good,” he says, “Too good.” He shifts around underneath you; the pressure he was feeling earlier when you were touching him is becoming inescapable, sweeping through his stomach like a vicious undercurrent. 

“I’m going to start moving now, 'kay?” you say. 

Choso nods but is woefully unprepared for when you begin to lift your hips up and down, pushing his length through your gummy walls. Your movements on top of the information already flooding his senses–your warm skin, rapid heartbeat, fluttering eyes—it's so overwhelming. His head falls back, and even though you’re going at such a slow pace, it feels like your walls are milking him, intent on making the tightness in his core snap.

Choso knows it’s too much for him, but watching your eyes close in pleasure and your fingers dig into the skin on his chest, it makes him want to keep going, to not cum just yet. But with the sight of you naked on top of him and the way your insides are squeezing him, not cumming is a near impossible task. He wants to do a good job for you, to hear you tell him that, but he's sure he won’t last. 

“Fuck, I’m s-ah-sorry,” Choso whines, “I can’t…if you keep moving, I can’t-“ 

“You’re gonna cum already, Choso?” you ask, a wickedness in your voice, “You feel that good?”

You’re teasing him, despite how you find your view beyond erotic: he’s a squirming mess underneath you, with his eyebrows pressed together, face flushed with warmth, and fingers tight around your wrist as he just fights the urge to cum.

“Yes—ngh—you feel s’good, s’good-I’m sorry,”—you feel his cock twitch inside you—“I can’t, I’m sorry, m’gonna-“

He groans, thrusting his hips up into you with a force that requires you to grab onto him to stay put, and empties his load deep inside you, sweet moans interspersed with apologies.

You’d be more disappointed in him for not lasting long, but with this being his first time in a while, you’re willing to forgive—especially after being treated to his endless, pretty noises.

When he comes down, you press a kiss on his cheek, “Too much, Choso?” you ask.

“I’m sorry, you just felt so good,” he says in between pants. His poor body is shaking, his chest is heaving, and a pink flush burns all over his pale skin. 

“It’s okay,” you say, “I enjoyed that.” Only, you wish you had been able to cum, too. Seeing him writhe underneath you has your cunt aching for attention.

He sits up, and you feel his cock move inside you. “Still, I wanted to last for you.”

“Sweet boy,” you say, pushing a few strands of dark hair out of his face, “You did great. I know it’s been a while since you’ve done anything like this.” 

He’s still pouting, but his frown turns into a smile when an idea hits him. He flips you over with ease—sometimes you forget how strong he is—and pulls out of you, keeping your legs open so he can bring his face down to your cunt, wetness mixed with his own cum seeping out of it. 

He presses a kiss to your inner thigh. “Let me make it up to you, I haven’t gotten to feel you on my tongue yet.” 

[starneteyam]

TOUCHY ★

🖇️ char. Neteyam x Omaticayan! fem! reader

🖇️ warn. Spicy, jealousy, fluff

🎥 In which Neteyam is an extremely affectionate boyfriend whose love language is physical intimacy, and when some Metkayinan boys start getting a bit too flirty with you, be gets jealous and sulks

A/N Just a short drabble

Neteyam was your mate, and you were his. Ever since he first hooked his eyes on you a year ago, he had been obsessed with you in every way. The way you looked at him with loving eyes, or the way you never complained whenever he held your hand while you did whatever you needed to do. You understood Neteyam loved being physically intact with you.

When he was sitting next to you, even that wouldn’t be enough. He would lay his head on your shoulder, or hold your hand, or wrap his arm around you. Around his family, he would play with your hair—the tiny unbraided strands of your goddess braids, or he would just hook a finger around yours.

He had separation anxiety, though you would never comment on it. You didn’t mind, one bit. You thought that part of him was adorable, like a little puppy.

Because you were his mate, it was decided that you would move to Awa’atlu with Jake and his family, leaving your family behind. You were heartbroken, having to leave your siblings and parents behind, but you said your goodbyes and left anyways.

When you arrived at the Pandora Reefs, Neteyam never let go of your hand, not once. But this time, it was to reassure you. When Au’nong and Rotxo stepped forward, he pulled you behind him, while they smirked.

At your new home, he huffed in displeasure. “They were looking at you.” He sulked, sitting next to you with his head on your collarbone, your body leaning against the wooden pillar, his pointer finger hooked to your pinkie.

You smiled reassuringly, shaking your head. “And I was looking at you, Neteyam.” You told him softly, playing with the bead on his braid. Your heart was full, your throat tightening at how adorable he was.

Another instance was when you were at the beach with Tuktirey, accompanying her and looking for seashells on the shallow waters. The two of you knelt on the sand, her laughing in joy. “Look, there’s one!” You laughed, pointing at a pink shell when you heard the water behind you splashing as if somebody was walking near you.

You turned around, seeing a stranger your age walking up to you with two of his friends. You furrowed your eyes. “Tuk, come here.” You whispered, ushering her.

She whimpered in fear as you grabbed her arm and pulled her behind you. You then stood up. “What’re you doing?” The boy asked, tilting his head. You gave him a dirty look. “Can I help you?” You asked, ignoring his question. His friend laughed. “We just want to get to know you, chill out.” He shrugged his shoulders, and you tried your hardest not to roll your eyes.

“I like your hair.” The third guy commented, running his fingers through some braids on your hair. “We should hangout sometime, I can show you some islands around here.” The first guy said, smiling. You huffed, frowning.

“Excuse me.” You mumbled, making sure to keep Tuk away from the guys as you walked past them, and away. “O-Okay! See you around!” The guy yelled after, and you shook your head in disbelief and sighed. Pathetic.

Unknown to you, Neteyam had seen it all. He had the urge to go in and just punch those guys square in the jaw, but after fighting the Au’nong and his friends yesterday, he was sure his father would skin him alive if he were to cause more trouble.

So instead, he stayed out of sight, and watched quietly as his nails dug into his palms. He was glad you quickly had left and even barely spoke to them, displaying your clear unliking to them, but still, he couldn’t help but feel jealous.

Later that day, when the sky was dark, you stood in your home, your back turned to the entrance as you were busy taking the leaves off of berries Kiri had picked. You heard Neteyam enter, turning your shoulder and glancing at him. “How was your day, Neteyam?” You asked, not having seen him all day. He stayed silent, which you ignored. If he didn’t want to talk, he didn’t have to talk. You respected that of him, because you had your moments too.

You heard him dropping his things on the floor, then walk up to you. Without saying a word, his hands slid around your waist, pressing himself against your back as he kissed your shoulder. You smiled, leaning your hair into him as you continued to pick at the berries. His butterfly kisses trailed up your shoulder, to your neck, and his kisses became longer. Your breath hitched as he started sucking softly on the skin on your neck, his thumb rubbing your stomach.

“Neteyam.” You whispered, turning your head slightly towards him, but he ignored you again. You were confused on why he was acting this way. His tongue pressed against the bruises on your neck, before he turned you around and kissed your lips. You immediately responded. “Netey- mm- What’s- Mmph!” You tried talking, but he kept cutting you off by kissing you, each kiss more aggressive than the last. “Shh.” He hushed quickly, before kissing you again.

You did as told, letting him pour his feelings out on you. Your fingers brushed his back, tracing his spine upwards, before lightly tugging on his hair. He pushed his lips against yours, trying to get as close as he could to you, his eyebrows furrowed. He felt goosebumps on his skin as your tail brushed up the inside of his leg. After leaving his final kiss on you, he hugged your waist, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

Surprised, you looked at him, before smiling softly and rubbing his back. “What happened, Neteyam?” You asked quietly, closing your eyes as you leaned your head against his. He was silent for a couple heartbeats, but then finally spoke. “I saw those guys trying to hit on you today.” He whispered, and it almost broke your heart—how cute he was. You laughed at his sulking sight, hugging him tighter. “Neteyam, you are too perfect for this world.” You told him, kissing his head.

[sleepyangelkami]

PERVERTED II c.grimes

 𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT - 3.5K

CARL GRIMES X FEM!READER

 𝜗𝜚 SUMMARY - carl decides to go through with this weeks saturday sleepover. so far, he's been able to control himself. until, that is, he hears you whimper his name in your sleep.

 𝜗𝜚 WARNINGS - smut, slight angst, somnophilia, thigh riding (kinda), fingering, pussy eating, cum eating, wet dreams, sex dreams, innocence kink, corruption kink, dom!carl, sub!reader, noncon, heavy manipulation, use of y/n, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

series masterlist

"you sure you don't wanna come?" rick questioned as he took a box from his son, landing it inside the back of the truck. "we could use the help."

carl watched his dad place a hand on his hip before shaking his head, hand on his hat. "no, i promised y/n i'd stay over. can't miss saturday sleepover can i?" he'd laughed yet he knew he wouldn't wish to miss it for the world, either. rick gave him a look, lips slightly perking up as if he knew something. "what?"

rick wasn't born yesterday either. he was well aware what it was like to have a silly crush, especially at that age. but this... this was much different. "nothin'" before packing in the last box. "you be good, alright? don't ruin the house while glenn and maggie are gone."

the two were going on the supply run with him, along with many more of the fighters. "bye, dad." watching him get into the rusted car.

and so, the day went on.

by the time lunch rolled around, carl still hadn't seen you. however, he wasn't entirely alone. he soon found ron who decided to help him look for you. in return, you'd also be looking for his also missing girlfriend, enid.

"they're always running off." ron muttered under his breath. he knew enid was close with you, possibly your best friend had carl not been thrown into the mix. enid was always running off with you, slinging you around by the arm. "hey, what's the deal with you two anyway?" carl's head peeked up, brows knitting together. "is she like your girlfriend or something?"

his mind moved like puzzle pieces. girlfriend. carl had never had a girlfriend before but he was pretty sure you had to kiss and all that to actually be in a relationship. then again, you don't touch yourself with your 'friend's panties sitting on your dick. he cleared his throat. "no... no we're not together."

saying you were his friend didn't seem all too right but saying you weren't his girlfriend didn't seem right either. you were something.

but ron didn't look convinced, rolling his eyes with his brows raising slightly. "whatever, dude." was it really all that obvious to everyone aside from you? carl thought that if there was a competition on the most oblivious person alive, you'd win.

but perhaps that was the easier option. would he have preferred you to know? everything seemed so easy with the fact that you were so oblivious. it was like a reminder that he could do anything he wanted right under your nose.

"finally." hearing the mutter from ron, carl looked up. this was when he was met with the sight of you, as pretty as ever, sat next to enid on a bench near the town's pond.

carl could barely look at you. the way you sat with your legs folded, smiling away innocently, completely unaware of what he'd done last night. you wore a pretty skirt, enough to slightly hike up your legs, giving carl a view of the pretty plush of your thighs.

he could only imagine digging his hands around the plush, holding it and kneeding the skin. he could only imagine grasping your thighs, holding them close while he rammed his di―

"there you guys are!" ron exclaimed causing carl to shake his head, ridding himself of the thoughts he'd been having. "carl and i were looking all over for you." he had this voice he used when he spoke to girls, one that carl could guarantee was not the voice he used with him.

enid only rolled her eyes. the sight of her boyfriend and carl was enough to have her smile drop. "well, we weren't looking for you." she mumbled. some may say she didn't like anyone aside from you, not even her own boyfriend. carl didn't think there was much of a point of being with someone that you didn't even like. "hence the getaway pond."

ron must have thought she was joking because he came up to pinch her side and kiss her cheek. the sight alone had carl's stomach turning.

however, the sweet sound of your lulling voice was enough to bring him back. "hi, carl." you beamed at him, smile as wide as ever. he hadn't even registered you moving from the bench to his side. all he remembered was the feeling of you snaking in next to him, your body so close. suddenly, he felt so dirty. "we were feeding the ducks." smiling like a child on christmas. you always smiled like that, like you had a thousand things to be smiling about. it always made carl wonder if you were truly made for this world at all.

when he was around you, he was fighting off his own smile. yours was so contagious. the way his lips curved upwards told you he was happy for you, he always was. "that's great ba― y/n." correcting himself as his expression faltered, smile wavering.

he watched as your entire face fell.

he was unable to bring himself to call you those cute names. baby, sweetheart, like an old couple who'd spent their entire lives together. he couldn't bring himself to say such things after he imagined himself fucking you just the night before. it didn't seem right, not when you were so oblivious to the dirtiness behind his words.

the smile wiped clean from your face, carl was sure you could have cried.

you reminded him somewhat of a kicked puppy.

he'd been the one to kick you.

he never called you y/n, unless speaking to someone else like his father or even ron. this was because they'd hardly understand who you were if he was referring to you as sweetheart.

the point was, he only used your name if it was wholeheartedly necessary.

you wondered what'd changed.

your mind ran back to the night before. when he'd entered your house, looking awfully suspicious and at the sight of you, he practically rushed out the door. had you done something wrong? your heart ached at the idea that you may have upset him. a heart of gold, some people said you had. carl had to beg to differ. the look on your face explained all he needed to know, a heart of mere paper.

he regretted it the moment he said it.

he knew how you got, how all up in your head you could be. he could only imagine how you'd be for the rest of the day, going over every interaction you've ever had with the boy and wondering where everything went wrong, where you messed up.

the moment your name slipped from his lips, he thought it may have been better to call you anything else in the entire world. even if it was laced with the dirty undertone.

he felt your body move slightly away from his, eyes cast down on the ground to avoid any glances. "'m gonna go see aaron." you announced, rather loudly too.

"okay." enid responded, her eyes glancing you over before turning to carl, a slight glare, if you will. she didn't particularly like carl, though carl hadn't the foggiest idea why. perhaps it was because she was so protective of you. carl had to roll his eyes, if anyone knew what was good for you, it was him. "don't stay out too late."

you didn't respond, grasping your bag that sat at the bench before turning onto the footpath.

carl had to purse his lips. "wrong way." he said, just loud enough for you to hear.

with slightly wide eyes, you realised he was right. spinning around on your heel, you began walking left instead of right. "thanks." you mumbled under your breath before continuing your walk to one of your favourite people in the entirety of alexandria.

back at the pond, carl was cursing himself under his breath before turning around to find two accusing pair of eyes sat on the bench. one pair belonged to enid, the other to ron. "what did you do?" was enid's accusing tone, her face hard as stone. carl was on the receiving end of this look very often, he didn't fear it... well, he feared it a little but not as much as before... okay he feared it.

"what do you mean what did i do?" he instantly fell to defending himself. despite the fact that he knew he was the reason for your declining mood. "i didn't do anything."

whether it was to intimidate carl or that she smelled the sort of fish smell of ron that carl had smelt earlier, she perked up on the bench, loosening her boyfriend's arm across her shoulder. "she looks like a deflated balloon." she argued.

"yeah." ron nodded his head. carl couldn't stop the glare he sent his way, what did he know. "everyone knows aaron's like her very own guidance councillor, his boyfriend too." he shrugged his shoulders. "whatever you did, i'd say fix it quick."

the brunette boy only glared at the couple. "thanks guys, for that enlightening advice. but i don't need it, okay? i didn't do anything."

on the contrary, he was well aware that it was his fault. he needed to fix it and he needed to fix it fast but he didn't need enid and ron whispering in his ears. nobody knew you like carl, they didn't know what they were talking about. they hadn't seen you crying over some stupid movie you watched. they didn't see you smiling the way he did, they didn't take notice like him.

they'd never understand what it was like to know you. only carl would. and he'd make sure of that.

the sun was setting by the time carl had made it to your house. you'd opened the door, taking him in with your eyes before allowing him inside. maggie and glenn were on the run so the two of you headed straight towards the bedroom where'd you'd begin the movie night. however, carl was more focused on the fact that you'd spoken barely four words to him tonight rather than which disney movie you'd force him to watch this time.

he knew you were in your head but you wouldn't utter the words because what were you meant to say? hey carl, why didn't you call me baby? something so simple had ruined your entire day.

however, carl couldn't keep it in anymore. "are you okay?" he blurted out after many moments of silence as he sat atop your pink bed sheets.

you, at the foot of the bed pursed your lips. you pressed play on the movie and allowed the credits to begin. you weren't the type of person to insist that you were fine if you weren't. carl liked that about you, he never had to guess. "are you mad at me?" voice meek, like a childs.

the realisation hit carl that despite what he was feeling for you, he'd have to push it down in order to continue your friendship. at least, he couldn't take it out on you. "'course not, baby, c'mere."

the name fell from his lips like sweet relief.

it suddenly occurred to the boy that you needed him. desperately so. something as simple as calling you by your first name had thrown off your entire day. carl should have been worried, concerned even. instead, his heart fluttered a little.

you truly did rely on him.

with a sigh of relief, you found yourself crawling up to the boy. today had been so long with you being in your own head so when you felt the feeling of his hands sneak around your waist, it was like coming home after a long day at work.

you couldn't see his face but if you could, you'd see the sheer nervousness on his face. he needed to control himself but he wasn't sure how that was possible while you cuddled up against him beneath your bed sheets, clad in your pretty pale blue shorts and your white spaghetti strap top.

your knee was bent, extending over the top of his legs. there was a sharp intake of breath as your knee gently bumped against the prominent bulge in his shorts. you hadn't noticed, he knew you hadn't noticed and to make sure you wouldn't notice, he reached over to switch off the light, clearing his throat. "so, uh, what are we watching?"

"the princess frog." you answered, turning your head up to look at his face as he groaned.

a look of displeasment was evident on his face. "it's so boring!" he practically gushed.

offence hit you like a truck. "excuse me!" you battled. "i'd like to see you opening up your own restaurant all by yourself." even carl had to admit, you got him there.

carl never understood why you picked movies that you fell asleep so early during.

he heard your soft snores and your gentle breath hit the crook of his neck within the first half hour of the movie. though he couldn't blame you. truthfully, he could only blame himself in how he had your head messed up, practically knocked off your shoulders for the entire day.

it took until almost a full hour into the movie for you to stur.

at first, carl thought he'd misheard it. a little noise falling from your lips. then, he heard it again.

he held his breath as he heard the whimper leave your lips.

then, he felt it.

the gentle roll of your hips against his thigh had him practically seeing stars. the boy glanced to the tv hoping for some kind of a distraction from his obvious hard on. he couldn't wake you up, not because he actually couldn't. but because he wasn't too sure if he wanted to.

admitting it sounded like nails on a chalkboard but he'd be lying if he said he did want to. the little whimper you let out, sleepily and lowly albeit, into his ear was enough for him to almost completely loose his control.

it was like he was dreaming, it was everything he'd dreamed of, especially the night before.

you sounded even better than he'd thought.

he shouldn't have laid so still. you weren't aware of the way your hips bucked onto his leg, a little whine stretching from your lips. he reminded himself that you were too busy sleeping to understand what was going on. he couldn't engage with you, that'd be wrong.

so... wrong.

then he'd swore he heard it. "carl." a mumble in your sleep, enough for him to not know whether or not you were actually sleeping. he took a glance at your face, eyes screwed shut.

he was imagining things, he had to have been.

you soon rolled over, leaving him laying very stiffly as he tried to wrap his head around what was happening.

you were having a wet dream, obviously. that'd never happened before, at least not while cuddled up against carl. but he could have swore he heard you say his name. he shook his head, knowing he was wrong, he was so caught up in what had happened the night before that he was imagining you breathe his name.

then, he heard it again.

this time it was more stretched out into a whine. due to the movie on in the background, he could vaguely make out the way your cunt rutted onto nothingness, the mattress maybe but it wasn't enough to cause any real friction.

his mind stirred. if you really were having a dream about him, surely it was only his duty to... help?

but it was dirty, downright perverted.

but your noises were growing needier, obviously the bed wasn't enough for you to create real friction from. he had to help you. "poor girl, can't even get herself off." he mumbled under his breath, not enough to wake you up.

if he were to touch you, it wouldn't be for him. no, he was doing this for you.

he knew you well enough to know you wouldn't wake. on the contrary, you'd sleep through an asteroid should it hit your home.

he reached his hand down beneath the covers, holding his breath. he was helping you, he reminded himself, helping you. this was for you, making sure you felt good as your dream continued. your dream of him.

suddenly, he wasn't the all too dirty one. perhaps you were.

his fingers gently felt the core of your shorts, taking an intake of breath upon feeling just how wet you were. it practically seeped onto his fingers, it was a wonder if his sweatpants didn't have a wet stain on them from how you'd been rolling your hips against them.

he breathed in, gently massaging the area you needed him the most, you all but moaned into the pillow, eyes screwed shut.

carl had dreamed of this moment for as long as he lived, he wasn't ready to give it up just yet.

the way your hips jutted into his hand, creating all the friction you needed and you whimpered again, still stuck in slumber, had carl's confidence through the roof.

it was as if saying his name, he realised you wanted it just as much as he did.

how he ended beneath the covers, he wasn't too sure. perhaps it was the newfound confidence he'd gained.

he'd spent too long dreaming of this moment to stop now. he breathed as shallow as a man could before his fingers travelled back to your shorts, gently pulling them away from your aching cunt. that was when he realised you hadn't been wearing panties. did you do that often around him? had you been... expecting something?

nonetheless, carl was more than willing to give it to you.

his breath fanned your pussy, prettier than his sick mind could have ever mustered. the image would be burned into his head, it'd never leave. one thing was for sure, this boy wasn't leaving the next morning without putting his mouth to your cunt.

and that was exactly what he did.

his tongue reached your pussy, licking a long stripe and feeling your thighs jump and your body jolt. obviously, never been touched.

he knew it'd be him who touched you first. now, it was just him making sure of it.

he licked again, your wetness gathering on his tongue. he tried to hold back the groan that spread throughout your entire body. yet, you still lay sleeping. it somehow only egged him on further. he knew you wouldn't wake. to him, your body was his for the taking. and he was going to take it.

his tongue found your cute hole, hands against your thighs, holding them, trapping them down.

tongue dancing across your clit, he heard you moan even louder, still trapped by slumber. his lips curved upwards, tongue circling your clit. he moved one of his hands, using his middle finger to gently slide into your sopping hole. so wet for him, already.

he cursed enid and ron for thinking they knew you. he cursed all of the people who thought they knew you. the truth was, the only person you could ever rely on would be him, he'd make sure that you got what you needed, make sure all your needs were fulfilled at all times. perhaps this was just him making sure of that fact.

his tongue moved away from your clit, moving his other hand to meet it. he saw the way your body writhed against his hands. he couldn't wait to do this when you were awake.

it wasn't until your thighs actually began to shake that he knew what was happening. "s'pretty." he mumbled, dazed as drool practically dripped from his mouth. you truly were, the most beautiful thing he'd ever encountered his entire life.

mouth moving back to your cunt, he moved his tongue back against your clit at an alarming pace. with his now free hand, he held your thighs down, trapping them under him as your body shook against him, jutting your hips back and practically rolling your hips against his face. he relished in it. you were practically getting off to his pretty face which told him all the more just how much you loved this.

he felt your hips force themselves back to the bed, shaking and vibrating until your juices poured out onto his tongue.

you'd came.

he lapped you up without second thought, tongue dancing over your hole and licking the juices off the single finger he'd pushed inside of you.

licking his lips, he finally rose. he watched your face lull in your sleep, obviously content and finally getting your sweet relief. he gently moved your shorts to cover your pussy again, as if nothing had happened at all.

it took mere seconds for you to roll back over and onto him, cuddling against his side. he couldn't help but feel even dirtier.

you'd never even know.

main masterlist/carl's masterlist

[kiyokowastaken]

A Piece Of Heaven.

James Sunderland x Female Reader.

Minors Don't Interact!!!

CW: fingering, overstimulating, p in v (no protection), hair pulling/tugging, blowjob, babying a middle aged, miserable man, dirty talk, OOC James, porn with plot, age gap (reader is in her early twenties while James is in his mid-thirties), tit sucking, creampie, dom!James, oral (male and female receiving and giving, face f*cking, James has a breeding kink.

Summary: After partnering up with James and Maria, you could see the dynamic between them. A beautiful blonde vixen flirting with a miserable and pathetic man in search of his supposedly dead wife. Feeling a bit jealous of the interaction between them, you decided to climb the roof of the hotel to watch whatever of the sky that you can but you’re interrupted by someone.

This isn’t revised so excuse any misspelling or grammar mistakes! I was also inspired by another amazing James Sunderland x Reader writer named sundrlands so check them out!!

Enjoy loves ^^!

The fucking fog.

How come in some areas it’s dense as fuck but now when you need the fog to be dense, it’s not. You saw the blonde haired woman named, Maria latching onto James’s arms as if she couldn’t hold her own. You knew that the male was far too awkward to say anything about it, so he merely just let it be. You looked around the area, it seemed not as rundown and ruined as the other places that you guys have encountered, you caught a glimpse of a flower shop and your interest was piqued to say the least.

You jogged over to the small shop as James was looking down at the map trying to figure out where the hotel was as Maria was merely talking his ear off. You were pleasantly surprised when the flowers looked to be alive, they were still blooming in such a terrible condition. Your fingertips reached out and graced the soft petals of a Lily, the beautiful flower slightly moved by your touch before it got covered by a shadow.

You turned around to see James, which caused you to take a few steps back. His cologne was faint yet lingered around him, he smelled like clean laundry with a hint of a musky yet woody scent, the kinda smell that when you hugged someone you would try and take another whiff, “Uh..I figured out the way to the hotel, we would get there in a couple of more minutes..” The blonde haired man would mumble.

You couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh as you looked back at the blossomed flower, “You speak as if I’m going to snap back at you.” James merely flushed a bit at your comment as it took him a moment to think about his next choice of words. He always seemed to do that, instead of other people who just spoke their minds without considering what others might say.

James was the opposite, it’s like he handcrafted his response for you, yet he still fell short, “I didn’t want to disturb you, you looked peaceful over here in your own world.” He hummed out as he looked down at the flowers before he reached out and tried to stroke the flower but it seemed that he lacked a certain softness to his touch.

The very Lily that you once caressed so tenderly and gently, lost a petal once James touched it. James seemed a little disheartened as the sad look on his face that he always had seemed a bit more sadder, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have touched it, it seems like whenever I touch things they always end u-..” You stopped James’s sad monologue as with a bit of confidence, you grabbed his hand with your own and gently moved over to a flower, a budding bushel of Heathers.

You guide his hand and with a gentle brush of both hands, the bushel waves gently before you pulled your hand away with a small smile as you turned to look at the taller male, “Don’t always be pessimistic James, you have a gentleness to you. You just need to be patient, now come on, Maria is waiting for you.” You said with a slight bitter tone that James seemed to catch before his soft yet gruff voice said, “You mean, us, she’s waiting for us.” To which, you merely nodded before walking back with James.

A few minutes turned to a hour and the sweet moment between you and James had seemed to dissipate into thin air. Maria was once again walking side by side with James, their hands occasionally brushed against each other more than they should. At one point, Maria mentioned how cold she was which caused James to pause before he tugged off his military jacket and held it out for her which she graciously took and slipped on. You, in the meanwhile just scoffed, how unbelievable. James was merely being a gentleman and gave the women his jacket, so she wouldn’t freeze to death and here you were acting like it was the worst betrayal of your life. I mean, it stung a bit, you asked James to borrow his jacket during a moment of rest since the room you guys were in was cold to which he merely just got up and went through the hassle of finding a semi-clean blanket and handing it to you.

You merely just looked around at whatever you could in the surrounding scenery as the fog began to slowly disappear. You looked back to see the hotel, it was small but it was near an embankment of water which gave it a nice appeal. You guys got closer and before you guys knew it, you guys separated off into your own rooms. James got the room in the middle while you and Maria got the right and left rooms next to his.

Once, James got his jacket back from Maria, you all settled into your own rooms for the night. It was a delightful surprise when the water still ran through the pipes of this hotel, it was clean water as well. You stripped out of your clothes and turned the warm water on as once your body stepped into the warmth, it melted away any stress that you had away. You guys had battled all sorts of weird ass monsters coming to this hotel, so this was refreshing to say the least. You cleaned off the grim, sweat, and the blood off your body before getting out and changing back into your clothes.

They were a bit dirty but nothing too bad, you then debated into taking a nap or just roaming around the hotel. You guys could probably stock up on whatever you needed to finish this fucked up adventure so without a second thought, you grasped the handle of the door opened it before stepping outside into the fresh night breeze. Silent Hill looked less scary when it was night, the fog almost seemed lifted and the surroundings were now noticeable.

You turned towards James’s door to see him talking with Maria as they both leaned against the iron railing. You squinted a bit and you found yourself a bit shocked to see a small smile on his face, you had more than enough seeing the two of them together so you turned on your heel and walked to the opposite side. You looked through the few rooms that were accessible and grabbed some bandages and couple of food supplies before you found a latter up to the roof of the hotel.

You shrugged before you grabbed ahold of the latter and started to climb your way up to the room. Once on top of the roof, you let out a deep sigh as the air felt fresher up here. The cold wind stung your warm skin and blew through your slightly damp hair before you found yourself sitting on top of the roof. It was comfortable, the concrete of the roof was smooth enough to not be uncomfortable as you laid back and looked up at the sky and for once in Silent Hill, you felt at peace.

You closed your eyes for a moment as the wind blew small strands of your hair away from your face, you slowly reopened your eyes and the moon was bathing everything in its moonlight, including yourself. You looked serene, downright ethereal to James as he finally found you, he was getting worried once he searched your room and every other room that you already ransacked and didn’t find you.

He took a deep breath air before releasing it as he could now be calm. A few minutes ago, he was talking to Maria, the woman was good company. She was cocky, confident, and a downright temptress but he had enough of those types of women in his younger years. The attention was nice but you caught his eye, he really shouldn’t even be considering anyone when he’s looking for his wife, yet you graced him with patience, a loving and gentle touch, and the way your eyes always seem to shine a bit more brighter whenever he talked to you made him feel..good. Mary, they had their arguments and yet, they loved each other but somewhere along the way the glimmer in her eyes and the way she looked at James, it no longer felt like home. Yet, here he was searching for her after three years of her supposed death.

James saw you staring up at the sky and found himself also in awe at how beautiful the stars shined. He then cleared his throat as he saw you perk up as if he had frightened you, “Sorry..I didn’t mean to scare you, I just got worried when I didn’t find you in your room.” He said softly, as he walked a bit more closer before he found himself sitting down a bit away from you as he didn’t want to invade your space. “Are you okay..? I mean, obviously we aren’t since we are stuck in this hellhole but you seem to become a bit more reserved.” James said as his eyes glanced at you before looking elsewhere.

A silence followed afterwards and it seemed to eat at James, maybe he shouldn’t have said anything.

You let out a huff as you turned your body to fully look at James, “Are you something with Maria?” You rebutted with a question of your own. James was stunned at the question as he felt a red flush settle at the tips of his ears as he shook his head, “Me and Maria..we are just uh..good acquaintances. That’s all..” He stumbled out as your eyes hyper focused at his small movements and gestures.

“Then..why don’t you act the same way with me? You found Maria and me at the same place, we have been traveling together for a while now and yet, it seems like..you dislike me.” You muttered out before peeling your eyes away from James. James didn’t mean to make you feel that type of way, he didn’t mean to make you feel isolated from your small little group. This place was already isolating as it is.

“I-..I’m sorry, it’s just that..well I find myself feeling some kind of way whenever I’m near you and I don’t want that to affect us, it’s difficult to explain.” You could see James in the corner of your vision, he was rubbing the back of his neck. A bubble of confidence or maybe the way the moonlight reflected on James’s eyes made him seem all the more pathetic. You patted your lap as you looked at him for a split moment, “We have all the time in the world right now, explain this feeling to me, please.”

James looked at your lap that you patted before looking up at you, he felt like if he gave in to you, he would betray Mary. He did all of this for her. He reprimanded himself for feeling a warm feeling whenever you guys even locked eyes for a split moment. Yet, a part of him craved comfort, he wished to be adored again. He wished soft hands cradled his worn and tired face and pressed soft kisses against it. Mary once did that before the damned illness took her.

He moved closer to you and placed his head on your plush thighs and closed his eyes.

Warmth.

That’s what you gave off, the scent of a sweet yet citrus scent clung onto you and your clothes. He tensed up when he felt your hands on him. One on his chest and the other one scratched his scalp and he battled to hold back a soft groan. Sinful. This was utterly sinful. He was still married to Mary, he loved his wife, yet why did he turn around and push his face onto your stomach as one of his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled him close.

“J-..James..!” You stuttered out as the touch to you was foreign. You had have past lovers and loved every single one but none of them made you feel the way James did. The older man, he made a part of you want to baby him..protect him and care for him. He could provide for himself yet to your mind that didn’t matter.

“You make me feel warm, you make me forget about Mary. It feels so wrong. I’m here for her..and yet, your arms have felt more like home than hers ever did..and I feel guilty for such thought.”

Those words that James muttered out against your stomach made your face burn unlike any other. You didn’t know how to respond as you felt him take a deep inhale and then exhale, he felt more relaxed..guess that was eating at him for a while now. Your hand merely slid from his chest towards his back and rubbed his back as she sighed.

“You don’t have to feel guilty James..I also feel the same, I just didn’t know that you felt like I did. You always seemed reserved towards me, so I just thought I made you uncomfortable for something like that.” You felt James shift before you removed your hands from him as he sat up. He was fairly close now. You could smell him just like you did in the flower shop.

“..As I stated before, I’m not uncomfortable with you. I will feel terrible if you got mixed up with someone like me, (Y/N). You’re kind, sweet, warm, patient, and just everything that I’m not. I still have this whole Mary thing to resolve. We still need to get out of here and..I’m a bit older than you. You’re barely enjoying yourself, I’m already past my prime.” James said with a soft chuckle leaving his lips. God, that chuckle..it felt like a drug. You wanted more of that.

“You should stop putting yourself down, you’re terrible at even finding a good thing about yourself, James. You have this softness in you, I can see it. It’s just hidden by troubles, nothing that a little patience and talking can’t undo and about the whole age thing. Do you really think I care? We have gone against unexplained beings and you think an age gap is what’s gonna scare me off?” You rebutted with an eye roll as James raised an eyebrow.

“Do you like your men older?”

The silence that followed was all consuming, you cleared your throat as you puffed up your chest a bit as you nodded, “Well, yes but not senile old.” This seemed to make James laugh as he turned his face away from you as his body shook with his laughter.

“So, do I fit into your criteria?” James asked as his normally reserved and cold demeanor changed slightly. It had a hint of flirtatiousness and genuine curiosity. “I mean, yeah, you do.” You said as you couldn’t help but notice him moving closer.

A sudden change in the air happened, it was noticeable. He hummed as he looked at your eyes and then down to your lips, he wanted to kiss them so badly. It was almost downright painful how much he craved to brush his lips against yours. You could feel his eyes, you almost felt naked in his stare. It felt like he was undressing you.

“Jam-..”

“Can I kiss you?”

Did you fall asleep on the roof of the hotel and now your mind was conjuring up some wet dream about the male you have been lusting over? No, this felt real. He felt real. The warmth he radiated was real. You could only nod before he leaned in close and looked into your eyes with his beautiful, enchanting blue-grey eyes, “I need you to say yes or no.”

You felt your heart beating quickly, he was close, his slow exhale of breath. You could feel it against your lips before you opened your mouth, “Yes..please.”James let out a soft and quick breathy laugh before he placed one of his hands on your neck and pulled you into the kiss. His other hand was placed on your waist as he pulled you closer to him. You couldn’t hide the slip of a soft whine tumble out of your lips.

Heavenly. That’s what James felt right now. If Silent Hill was his own personal hell then you must be his personal heaven. The hand that held your neck slowly slipped upwards towards your jaw as he held it. His tongue flicked against your bottom lip as to ask for entrance.

James acted different. This wasn’t the same man that seemed to dislike small talk or any time of human connection if it didn’t regard Mary. You might’ve unleashed a animal, a hidden side of him that you only caught glimpses at whenever he swung that metal pipe and aimed at those twisted creatures before pulling the trigger without hesitation. You opened your mouth, a tad bit but that was enough for James to slip his wet tongue into your mouth. Your arms that were once by your side slipped upwards to grasp at his faded, forest green military jacket as a anchor. Your own tongue shyly met his in a heated and sultry dance. The kiss that was supposed to be somewhat sweet became needy and sloppy.

He tilted his head to the side as his hand that was on your waist slipped down and underneath your shirt as his calloused and rough hands grasped your body as if to reassure himself that you weren’t going to slip away. That you weren’t a figment of his imagination. You were real.

The two pulled away from the kiss as a line of saliva was the only evidence of the hot and heavy kiss. James’s hand that was on your jaw slid upwards and wiped your bottom lip as the string of saliva was no longer there. The air was charged with sexual tension, it was no longer awkwardness and stepping on eggshells. It was filled with lust, need, and want.

“I need you..I want you but we don’t have to continue if you don’t want too.” James said between small soft pants as he tried to regain his steady breathing. Your eyes were hazy, in your mind, you only wanted him. You craved him. You have held back for a while and now the man that you craved, he craved you back.

“I need you as well, James Sunderland.”

Those words sealed your fate. Now, here you were, your shirt and light jacket thrown on the floor of James’s hotel room. Soft moans and pants filled the room as James left dark purplish red marks on your neck and collarbone. How you were going to explain these marks to Maria tomorrow, well, that was a problem for tomorrow. James was set on marking your skin up, claim it as his. To claim you and mark you as his woman.

His tongue licked and traced from your collarbone down the valley of your breasts. He placed a couple of sloppy kisses there as his mouth traveled to your right breast as he attached his lips around your harden bud. His tongue swirled around it as he started to suckle on your breast. His hand ran up your body and groped your left breast, his thumb and middle finger pinched and tugged on your nipple as one of your hands grasped the bedsheets and the other hand tried to muffle your moans and gasps.

Your body was soft, warm, and inviting to James. He felt like he was tainting you with all of his sinfulness, he didn’t want to damn you but at the same time. He grasped onto you as if you were his salvation and maybe, you were. His angel, his pretty girl..he wanted to leave you a beautiful mess. His teeth softly teased your nipple that was on his mouth before he pulled away with a lewd ‘pop’. Your expression was his favorite thing, yet he disliked you hiding your face.

“Don’t hide your face sweetheart, I want to see you for who you are, please.” He said as he locked eyes with yours as his mouth wrapped around your left nipple as his right hand slid up your body to tug and pinch your spit ridden nipple. He gave the same treatment to your left nipple until he felt satisfied with himself. After that, he left a couple more love marks on your chest just to make sure as pulled away from your shivering body.

“May I?” He said as he eyed your pants as you nodded as your hands slid down to unbutton and unzip your pants so that he didn’t need to struggle as much. His hands then grabbed the hem on your pants and panties before he tugged them down in one fluid motions. The need to cover your intimate area was strong as your hand slipped between your thighs to cover your slicked cunt. James found that cute, he dropped your pants and panties on the ground before his attention returned to you.

He grasped your waist and pulled you to the edge of the bed as he made you sit up as he got on his knees. He wanted to taste you, badly. He looked up at you for a sign of hesitation before you nodded once again in consent as his hands prided your thighs open. He felt himself salivate when he saw your cunt dripping for him, “All for me, pretty girl~?” He cooed as he looked up once more to see your flustered face. He chuckled as he began with pressing soft kisses on your inner thighs as he teased you with small nips to your thighs. He suckled a few marks on your inner thighs before he was face to face with your cunt.

He closed his eyes as his tongue slipped out and a wet stripe licked your slit. You instant let out a whine as your thighs tensed up, he kept your thighs apart using his hands which were wrapped around them. He prodded his wet muscle into your cunt as his nuzzled his face into your wet heat. His nose occasionally bumped against your clit as his tongue lapped at your juices as he eagerly tasted you like if you were an expensive wine. His tongue prodded your clenching entrance before he nuzzled his face more into your cunt as his tongue slipped into your clenching and unclenching entrance.

His slurping became downright pornographic as your hands left the crumpled up bedsheets and slipped into his dirty blonde locks. Your head fell back as your lips were in a ‘o’ shape as moans and whines of pleasure left them. You began to grind your cunt against his mouth as the way he slurped you like he was a hungered man was all too addictive. The way his nose bumped against your clit would send shivers down your spine as goosebumps riddled your body, “J-..James~!” You moaned his name loudly.

This made James prideful, he pulled away from your slicked cunt as leaned his head against your thighs as you guys once again locked eyes as he panted heavily. He looked downright fucking sinful, his hair a tousled mess in your hands, his face flushed red, his eyes glazed over with pure lust and admiration, and his lips along with his chin were smeared with a combination of his spit and your juices. “Use me to get off, c’mon baby girl, I’m only here for you.” He panted out.

Those words made your eyes roll to the back of your head as his lips wrapped around your clit. Fucking hell. He was so fucking good, you felt the coil in your stomach come to life. One of his hands left your thighs as they slipped down to your cunt, his index and pointer finger slipped into your cunt without much resistance. He angled them upwards and curled them in a ‘come here’ motion, you soon began to grind your cunt on his face like if he was merely a tool for your pleasure.

The coil began to slowly unravel as he continued to suckle on your clit as his fingers quickened in pace as he felt you clenching non-stop on his fingers. You pushed his face against your cunt with your hands as his unused hand gripped your thighs in a bruising hold before he pulled away as he heard a disappointed and pitiful whine leave your pretty lips. He panted heavily as his chest rose and fell quickly as he tried to regain all the air he needed. He fell back on his ass as his other hand that was on your thigh wiped his face clean from your wetness. “Not yet, pretty girl, you aren’t going to cum that easily.”

He said as before he stood up, he then began to strip. Once he was naked, he had scratch marks and cuts on his body. They had long scarred which meant he probably got them long ago, your eyes mapped out his entire body before your eyes found his cock. He was trimmed, neat which surprised you. He was a good six and a half inches, he was more length than girth. He had a pretty pink tip, that was currently leaking pre-cum as it seemed that eating you out worked him up.

You looked up at him as he walked towards you, you licked your lips as he loomed over you. He grabbed your chin as his thumb ran across your lip, “Will you be a good little girl and suck me off, ‘hm?” He asked as you merely dumbly nodded, “Then, what’re you waiting for?” He let go on your chin before as he grabbed your hair into a ponytail as your mouth opened to let him slide into your mouth.

Your mouth wrapped around his tip as your tongue licked his slit that was leaking pre-cum. You swirled your tongue around his head before you slowly took more into your mouth, you had a bit of a gagging reflex so little by little did you take his cock into your mouth. You felt the tip of his cock press against the back your throat which caused you to gag, your hands held onto his muscular thighs as your nails dug onto them. He was fully in your mouth, he could see that you were tense so, he gave you a bit of advice, “Relax..breathe through your nose. You will cause yourself to gag more if you try to breathe through your mouth.” He said as he felt you take his advice.

He then started to bob your head up and down his cock as he felt drool mixed with pre-cum coat his cock. He also heard a bit of it fall onto the floor beneath the both of you, he let soft groans out as his head lolled back in pleasure as the hold that he had on your hair tighten, “That’s it darling, you’re taking my cock so well…” He mumbled out as he slowly began to buck his hips into your mouth. As when he looked down at you, he saw your pretty mouth around his cock as those tear filled eyes looked at him.

“Fuck..if you look at me like that, I might just cum early, doll face.” He muttered through gritted teeth as he felt you hollow your cheeks to create more suction. He felt you become more comfortable as he placed his other hand on your head as he began to lightly thrust into your mouth. The lewd noises and the occasional gagging sound around his cock made him shiver. He felt the knot in his stomach slowly appear.

He quickened his pace a bit more as he almost lost himself when he felt you swallow around his cock. The way your throat tighten around his cock, it was fucking heaven sent. You were a fucking miracle. He began to just fully thrust into your mouth as you slacked your jaw, letting him fully fuck your mouth as groans and..a whimper left his mouth. Oh, this was heavenly, he made such a pretty noise that made you bob your head with his thrusting as you felt his cock throbbing into your mouth more frequently.

It was you that pulled away from his grasp as you coughed, your lips were swollen from the kissing and the sucking you were just doing. He let out a frustrated groan leave his lips as he felt his cock throbbing as his orgasm was so close. You inhaled and exhaled deeply as your chest heaved, “If I couldn’t get my..orgasm, then you can’t either..” You panted out as James merely glared at you before he nodded, it was only fair. He edged you close to your orgasm and you did the same.

He pushed you down on the bed as he towered over you as you guys scooted upwards onto the bed a bit more. James placed a pillow underneath you and moved you close to him, you wrapped your legs around his hips as he looked at you, “Uh..I don’t have a condom, are you sure?” James asked as his hands were on your hips as his thumbs wrapped smoothing circles on your skin. You bit your lip as you thought for a moment before nodding, “Yeah, it’s okay..I want to feel all of you.” You mumbled.

James nodded as he positioned himself before he slowly slipped inside you. You winced a bit at the penetration as it had a been awhile since you slept with someone. James gritted his teeth as he swore that he wasn’t about to cum right then and there. You were fucking tight, he huffed as the grip on your waist tighten as he slowly sank more of his length into your cunt. You, in the other hand, you felt filled. He thrusted fully into you as your toes curled as he let you get used to him and his size.

A few seconds passed before you rolled your hips and a soft moan left your lips, you looked at him and gave him a reassuring nod as he bottomed out before thrusting back into you. Your hands wrapped around his neck as your nails dug into his board shoulder, “F-..fuck, James..feels so fucking good~!” You whined out as James settled for a slow yet deep pace.

Skin on skin slapping could be heard throughput the room, the scent of sex lingered and consumed the air in the room as the bed squeezed with every deep thrust that James gave you. Your moans mingled with his groans as his hands ran up your body and groped your breasts as bounced every time that he thrusted into your squelching cunt. Lips messily found each other as both of you locked lips in a sloppy and lustful kiss. Passion and..love was found between the two of you. You guys fucked each other like if you were in your own honeymoon.

You guys complete forgot about the outside world and the cruel reality. You guys were completely focused on each other, saliva slicked lips found bare and naked skin to mark as James pace became more quick. Your nails ran down his back creating red irritated marks as he groaned, one of his hands slipped away from your breasts and down to your clit. He rubbed quick and tight circles as he felt you clench around him like a vice, trying to milk him for everything that he had, “f-..fucking hell, c’mon doll face, take my cock. After we are..out of here, I will make you my pretty wife and fuck a baby into you, yeah~?” James said rolled his hips into your cunt.

You nodded as you were feeling so fucking good, he was fucking you so good. “y..yeah, I wanna be your pretty wife..fuck a baby into me right now, please baby~!” You whined against his ear as he nodded. Both of you too drunk out of each other’s presences as the coil in your stomach grew too tight as he quicken the pace into a more quick and deep pace as his kissed your g-spot so fucking precisely and him rubbing your bundle of nerves didn’t help as you came around his cock without warning. You clenched around him tightly as he felt your walls spasm around his cock.

“Good girl..coming on cock so prettily, gonna make you a mommy, mhm, you want that baby girl, ‘hm~?” James said as he wrapped his unused arm around your waist and pulled you close to cold sweat covered body. You nodded dumbly as you felt overstimulated, the way he kept fucking you like a mere ragdoll, chasing his own orgasm made you clench around him. You bit down on his shoulder he as he continued to thrust into you as he felt his cock twitching more frequently, “Close..I’m gonna breed you, my sweet girl. Make you mine fully, come on, cum with me. Let’s cum together….” He muttered as his breathing was ragged.

His chest heaved quickly as his thumb started to swipe against your clit as his thrusts became animalistic in pace as he pounded into you. He groaned loudly into your shoulder as came deep into you. Filling your womb to the brim with his seed as you cried out as you came hard. He stopped swiping on your clit as both his arms held you close to him. He could feel himself twitching inside you. Fuck..you both were tired. He slowly pulled out of you with a wince as you merely groaned, you felt his sticky, warm seed drip out of your abused cunt.

James pulled you down onto the bed with him as he would clean this mess up later but right now, he wanted to relish in the afterglow. He pressed a kiss to your forehead as his hands rubbed your back as you nuzzled into his chest, “I will do everything I can to get us out of Silent Hill..I promise.” He muttered against your hair as you merely nodded as you were fair too tired to form any sentences. He soon felt your body go limp as you feel into a deep slumber.

This wasn’t about Mary anymore, he had to move on from her..he loved Mary but you loved him even if he was a broken man. You chose to embrace him and give yourself to him regardless of the darkness within himself.

You were his saint, his angel, his goddess..his little piece of heaven.

[thegnomelord]

Good Dog

CW: NSFW, DARK-FIC, murder, gore, power imbalance, size difference(reader's bigger), description of torture and brainwashing, oral, anal, blood as lube, plot and exposition with porn, pet play(collars and leashes), toxic relationship, dub-con, very very self indulgent.

Моя гончая- my hound, Хороший солдат - good soldier, Расслабьтесь, братья мои - relax, my brothers, приносить - fetch, есть - eat

The thick door and walls of the private room do nothing to damped the bass of the club pounding in his ears, the annoying music made bearable by the high of a recent victory. Puffs of cigarette smoke lazily curl in the air as Makarov leans further back into the couch, the buzzing sting of a fresh tattoo helping him relax. The scent of expensive liquor only adds to the heady atmosphere, crystal clear vodka swirling in his glass before Makarov takes a sip. His dark eyes peer over the rim of his glass, like doorways to a dark abyss, his gaze dancing across the faces of his most trusted men before settling on the lieutenant's as the man tries to prove his worth with pointless words.

Above all else, Makarov values loyalty.

It doesn't matter how strong a man is if he can't follow orders. The number of soldiers he can lead is pointless when he can't keep his men alive. How well he can shoot is meaningless when he can't devote himself to a cause. A man who is disloyal is a man of single use.

Makarov doesn't even try to listen to whatever drivel the lieutenant's spouting, he doesn't see a reason to sour his mood when he already knows everything: the embezzling, the lying, the adorable double agent act. He has you to thank for that, you'd sniffed the lieutenant out the second you met him, diligently uncovering every speck of dirt the lieutenant had attempted to hide from Makarov.

And you? You are very loyal. His loyal hound.

His fingers curl around the leash, the smooth black leather sliding against his calloused palms. A barely there tug is all it takes for you to lean down over the back of the couch, bracing one large hand near his head for support as the other remains over the grip of your sidearm. You loom over him, and while Makarov may be a fearsome man, he can't deny the type of foreboding fear a goliath like you inspires — a towering figure always a step behind him, broad body big enough to easily cover him fully if you need to take a bullet for him, arms strong and palms wide to easily crack a man's skull.

Settling the glass down he takes another drag of his cigarette, "Hound," Another tug — sharper, harsher; such a small correction yet the fact you needed it at all has acrid disappointment burning on your tongue — makes you bend down more, your face now next to his. He doesn't draw attention to the reprimand, breathing out a puff of smoke near your face. "Were you listening, моя гончая?"

It's a pointless question, he knows you were listening, he trained you to. But he asks because he loves to see the way your eyes darken, jaw tight. The cigarette smoke dances in the air, making the club's low lights reflect off the sharp spikes adorning the thick collar snuggly wrapped around your throat. Your day collar suits you well, no different than the spiked collars put on hunting hounds.

"Yes sir." You answer, your attention now solely on the lieutenant.

Makarov hums, eyes flickering from the lieutenant to you. "And?" He chuckles and lets the leash go, his word keeping you in place as he casually pats your neck. "What did you hear?"

"Lies. . ." The slow slide of his fingers across the uncovered parts of your throat makes your breath stutter, static crackling beneath your skin. "I heard lies, sir." Your answer causes the lieutenant to try and sputter excuses and denials, all cut short by the harsh look you give him.

Makarov chuckles, hooking a finger over the silver loop at the front of your collar, pulling on it and tilting his head so his lips can ghost across your jaw. "Хороший солдат." Makarov murmurs. His stubble scratches your skin as his lips brush a path to your ear, so very close to a lover's kiss.

But a brush of skin is all it is. Nothing more. Your body earns for more, to turn your head and experience the bruising possessiveness of his kiss once again, to feel his teeth bite down on your lip until blood floods both of your mouths. But you don't move; A spoiled dog isn't loyal and Makarov won't lavish you with attention for nothing. no — you must earn it.

"Stay." The soft 'click' of the leash unclipping sounds the same as a sentencing gavel, the strip of leather falling away until only his word keeps you from tearing the lieutenant's throat out with your teeth. Makarov smirks against your skin, his words honey sweet to your ears as he whispers: "Sick him."

That seals the ex-lieutenant's fate.

You're on the lieutenant in an instant, crashing into him like a truck. Makarov leans back and lights up another cigarette as you stomp down on the man's leg, all the weight you carry around bearing down on his bones until they break, erasing any foolish thoughts of escape when you snap the bones of his other ankle; Makarov has truly taught you well.

The screams of a traitor are much better than the atrocious club music, letting him enjoy the smooth burn of the vodka as another stomp breaks a couple of ribs. Some of his men are still nervous around you, trying not to shuffle in their seats lest they grab your attention and become the new outlet of your violence.

"Расслабьтесь, братья мои." Makarov gives a charming smile, resting his ankle on his knee as he takes another drag. "Hound is well trained, you have nothing to fear." He chuckles, lazily watching you as he holds conversation with his lieutenants. Honestly, you're like a dog with a new toy, tossing the man around and pinning him down under your heavy body, each swing of your fists steadily turning the ex-lieutenant's face into pulp.

It's as entertaining for him as it is therapeutic for you.

And to think Price had tried to suppress all that beautiful savageness you possessed.

Makarov remembers how you'd been nothing but a snarling and cursing ball of anger when his men had captured you after a botched mission. He had been both annoyed and amused by how loyal you were to Price, weathering every beating and starving and humiliation with the same 'fuck you' response, baring your teeth like the cornered dog you were. With days turning to months and your resolve refusing to waver under their 'care' Makarov had considered just putting you down, sending a nice video of blowing your skull open to Price but oh — is he glad he decided to indulge in the game your stubbornness presented.

He set out to train you like he would any mongrel mutt, clear expectations making it easy to tell whether your actions would get you a reward or an even worse punishment, giving small rewards for the behavior he wanted; not snarling at him might earn you a better meal. Biting your lip and taking your beating without back talk could get you a couple of minutes outside the claustrophobic walls of your cell. Letting him touch and inspect your body without complaint might reward you with a book or some other little creature comfort he could, and did, easily take away the moment you stepped out of line.

Of course you were weary, perceptive enough to know when he was scheming. But every man has his limits, yours were simply reached when he handed you official C.I.A documents proclaiming you as K.I.A, the mission itself creatively rewritten to sound like you had gone and deserted to the enemy — no one was looking for you, no one was coming to save you, your captain, Price, wasn't coming to save you.

He had taken great enjoyment in running his fingers across your scalp as you clutched the documents in a white knuckled grip, your mind far too worn down to question or guard against the soft touches. His lips had brushed against your ear, soothingly raspy voice comforting you — you're a good soldier, strong, reliable, everything a commander could dream of. It wasn't your fault you trusted the wrong man, truly, what a shame to have your loyalty repaid with betrayed like that.

After that, it became laughably easy to train you. He stuck with simple commands, spoken only in Russian so he could amuse himself with the way your head would tilt before you'd perk up, recognition making your dull eyes brighten before you did what he wanted in exchange for a small scrap of his affection, learning to seek his praise and appreciate his touch even when your body still prickled with disgust. So when he handed you the knife, standing so close you could have easily slit his throat, and ordered you to kill another member of your previous taskforce, you hadn't hesitated for a second. "Good boy." He had purred, caressing your jaw as he used his thumb to wipe away the blood staining your cheek.

"Hound." His voice is as effective as any physical tug on your leash, making you stop mid punch with your fist inches away from the ex-lieutenant's caved in face. You're covered in blood, the rich crimson bringing out the violence swirling in your eyes.

Yet you look at him with utter adoration he wants to shove his cock deep down your throat just so he can see your tears smudge the blood on your cheeks. "Приносить." He taps his thigh.

You nod your head, grabbing the knife strapped to your thigh. There's no hesitation in your movements as you shove the knife into the ex-lieutenant's throat. An arc of blood spurts across your front when you yank it out just to stab another spot, the man coughing and choking as you cut through cartilage and muscle until with a good yank and a sickening 'crack!' you separate the head from the body.

Makarov had never seen the appeal of large hulking brutes until you — your body had filled back out with muscle and fat nicely after you became his, towering body demanding attention simply by existing as you stand up. The loud stomp of your feet and the blood staining your body making you look like a barbarian, casting a shadow over him before you kneel at his feet, offering the decapitated head as a knight does to his king.

Oh yes, he definitely sees the appeal now.

"Good dog." He purrs, reaching out to stroke your jaw, smearing some of the blood with his thumb. Fingers sliding down to hook on the silver ring on your collar he pulls your head closer. "Do you think you earned a reward?"

It's a test. One you're intimately familiar with. The judgmental stares of Makarov's trusted men are the last thing in your mind when the closeness of his body and the sharp crisp scent of his cologne threatens to shatter your resolve. "Only if you permit it, sir." Your throat feels dry, trying not to show how eager you are for his attention as you place the head on the floor so you don't get a drop of blood on him.

Makarov smirks, "Smart dog," His hands move to the back of your neck, unbuckling the collar. You're no longer ashamed to admit you feel naked as the thick piece of leather is pulled away; the time when you didn't have a collar wrapped around your neck feel like a distant memory and now the sensation of breathing without it pressing against your skin is disturbing. You have to bite your lip to keep the low whine from escaping your chest.

His hand wraps securely around your throat, bringing your breath back to you. Your Adam's apple bobs beneath his fingers as he traces the 'V.M' shallowly carved across your throat. "It's already starting to fade." He tuts, squeezing his fingers to restrict your breathing just the slightest bit more. "We'll need to have it tattooed. That would be nice, yes?"

You suck in a sharp breath, "Yes sir."

"Хороший солдат." He purrs. He pulls out another collar from his pocket and you feel yourself chub up in your pants just at the sight of it. It's the chained pronged one he uses exclusively when he wants you to pleasure him, particularly because it leaves such pretty bruises along your skin when he tugs on the leash.

You eagerly tilt your head back to bare your throat, a shudder rushing down your spine as soon as you feel the cold metal against your skin. You stay perfectly still as he secures around your neck, the sharp pull of the leash making the prongs dig into your skin, prickles of pain making you even harder. "Go on," Makarov hums, spreading his legs wider so your attention falls to the hard bulge in his slacks, his belt undone but the rest left to you. "есть."

You don't think you could enjoy servicing him as much as you did if he didn't let you work for it, the reward made sweeter because you earned it. Truly, he's so good to you, you'd thank him profusely but he hasn't given you permission to speak freely. So you lean in, careful not to get blood on his pants as you take the metal zipper between your teeth and pull it down. You've done this enough not to have any problems undoing the button, your hands obediently planted on your thighs and your gaze firmly on him so you can see the pleased smirk that spreads across his features when you bite the band of his boxers and pull them down until his cock springs out, already hard.

A pleased sigh escapes him when your warm lips wrap around the head of his cock, the leash wrapped firmly around his hand and the slightest tug on it has pain prickling down your spine. "Моя гончая, don't waste my time." You can't help but whine lowly at the admonishment, quickly trying to make up to him by sucking on the tip and licking the slit in just the way he likes it.

His leg shifts, hard boot coming up to grind the sole against your clothed cock. "That's better." The praise makes you moan deep from your chest and try to take more of his cock into your mouth, your boxers wet and sticky against your own cock as you give an experimental hump of your hips against his boot. You scrape your teeth along the vein on the underside of his cock and it earns you a rough grind of his boot. His hand tangles in your bloodied hair and pulls you down until his cock bumps the back of your throat.

You nearly choke from the sudden pressure, trying to fight off the reflex to pull back and gag. "Look at me." His order rings clear in your head, your eyes meeting his as he grinds your nose into his pubic hair, tears prickling the corners of your eyes as your lungs start to burn. You fight through it, the fluttering of your throat making him five a small, rough, moan and fuck — you're hard as a rock.

Just as you feel like you'll pass out on his cock he lets you off, yanking your head back. You're only given a few seconds to take a sharp breath of fresh air before he pushes your head back down. You're prepared this time, hollowing your cheeks and relaxing your throat, swallowing around his hard cock. The way you suck Makarov off is wet and sloppy, stealing ragged breaths when you can as you trace the veins of his cock with your tongue and gently nibble on the base when his cock's fully sheathed in your throat, knowing exactly how to please him. Your efforts are rewarded with the salty taste of precum on your tongue, hearing him occasionally mutter his praises in Russian, none of his words snagging on your mind like sharp orders so you let yourself drift in the pleasure of servicing him, subconsciously grinding your cock into his foot.

But you're not mentally gone enough not to notice the squeaking of chairs, your body tensing as you pull up enough so only his head remains in your mouth, your head turned just enough to throw a sharp glare at the other men in the room. Makarov having his guard down like this makes you tense, violence buzzing beneath your skin from the ingrained need to protect him.

"Hound." Makarov's growl is followed by another sharp tug of the leash, the dull ache of the metal prongs digging into your skin dissipating some of your aggression. "Did I tell you to stop?"

You shake your head as best you can, a pathetic whine escaping your chest from the way the pain makes your cock even harder. Satisfied, he eases the leash, letting you return to your work. His head lolls back, lazily looking at his men. He couldn't care less who sees you like this, but now he wants your full attention on him. "Leave." He gives the simple command.

You track the sound of shuffling feet as you take him fully into your mouth, making him hiss a curse under his breath. Nuzzling your nose into his curly pubic hair you breathe in his musk, his heel grinding firmly and consistently against your hard cock, pleasure pulsing through your veins with such intensity you're worried you'll cum without permission, low whines escaping your throat.

He pulls you off him suddenly, your lungs burning as you gasp for air. You expect him to paint your face with his cum, stake an obvious ownership over you. But he doesn't, pulling you by the leash and leaning down to mash your lips together, teeth biting down on your lip until it bleeds.

Makarov's kisses are rough and demanding, the sweet drug your body's been craving, teeth clicking together and tongues swirling in each other's mouths. The firm grind of his boot against your crotch makes you moan lowly, a sound he happily swallows down and nearly shoves his tongue down your throat. You part far too soon, your body craving much much more, but he doesn't let you stew in the disappointment of a short kiss — it's an owner's responsibility to spoil his pet — mumbling against your lips. "Prepare me."

A full shudder runs down your spine and you surge to follow his order. Makarov loves the determined look you get in your eye just as much as he loves the rough way you grip his hips and hike them up so you can pull his pants and boxers down his legs. Your bloodied fingers grip his hips and pull them down until his ass hangs off the edge of the couch, throwing his legs over your shoulders and he can feel the muscles deep in his back strain as you nearly bend him in half, his hard cock and hole bared for you.

It's a vulnerable position, trapped between your bulky frame and the couch he has no way to escape. And if anyone else were to attempt this he would feed every inch of their flesh to themselves. But Makarov relishes the knowledge that he's in control, a single word from him would make you stop regardless of how hard and wanting you were, your loyalty to him as real as the dead man's blood you dip your fingers in to lube them.

Your fingers circle his hole before you press the pad of your finger against it. Without the heat of battle the cold viscousness of the blood feels disgusting, making him shiver and his rim flutter against your digit. But the discomfort is easily forgotten when you apply pressure, the steady and persistent way you push your finger in forcing his muscles to yield. "Shit-" Makarov clenches his teeth; your fingers are so large just one feels like two of his own, the gnawing pain of your finger pushing deeper just amplifying the pleasure of being stretched open and your other hand loosely stroking his wet cock.

You don't go slower than you need to, perfectly trained to know how to move your fingers to keep him teetering on the edge between pleasure and pain, each shift and slow drag of your finger pulling deep grunt and soft breaths from between his clenched teeth. "Yes, there you go." His praise makes your heart melt and cock throb in your pants, the pull of the leash bringing your lips together in another harsh kiss. You swallow his moans greedily, pushing a second finger in and curling them in search of his prostate, your thumb incessantly rubbing the space between his balls and ass to trap the spongy flesh between your fingers.

He nearly chokes you with how hard he yanks on the leash, hips pushing back into your hand and walls clenching down on your fingers. The stinging ache of being stretched open mixes with the building pleasure, leaving his skin feeling like a live wire. His teeth dig into your lip until it bleeds again, heels digging into your back. He grinds his hips down on your fingers, muttering praises against your lips as you push a third finger in and force him to take it.

He can't wait any more, gripping your hair and roughly yanking your head back. "Fuck me already." He growls, licking the blood staining your cheek.

You scramble to do as you're told, continuing to stretch him open as you undo your belt and pants with one hand, your hard cock bobbing against your abdomen. Pulling your fingers out you scoop up more blood, the cold helping reign in your lust as you lube up.

Before you can do anything he reaches out to grip the base of your cock, his hold firm and just at the cusp of pain. "You'll be good, yes?" He growls against your lips. "Fuck me good and hard?" His hand moves, stroking you slowly, evenly coating the blood along your cock. "I don't need to show you how to use this thing again, do I?" There's a dangerous edge in his voice.

Fear shoots down your spine, mouth going dry. You'd been too eager for human touch when he first let you mount him, and when you came seconds after getting inside him he'd been less than pleased by your abilities. You couldn't feel your cock for a full week after he'd tied you down and used your cock until you couldn't cum, using a cock ring to keep you hard and using you until he was satisfied.

You quickly shake your head. "No sir," You choke out and bare your throat. "I can do it, I'll be good." You promise.

His hold loosens, tugging you by the hair so he can peck your lips, his tongue licking over the small wound he'd made. "Don't fail me now."

You steel yourself like you're going to war, pressing your cockhead to his hole. Your nails dig into his hip, your grip ironclad to keep him still as you pull him down more and simultaneously push in. There's a second of resistance before your head pops in, the pleasure of entering his velvet soft insides being met with sharp pain as his teeth chomp down on your shoulder through your shirt. It all mixes in your brain into pure bliss, your hips bucking up into him automatically until you're bottomed out. You hold him close to you and leisurely grind your hips, letting him get used to the mind numbing stretch.

Fuck— Makarov may see the appeal of brutes but impaled on your cock he feels like he's being split in two, lungs burning and he can almost swear your tip's poking his diaphragm. He chases the pain more than the pleasure, heels digging into your back to give him some leverage so he can push his hips into yours. "Yes," His head lolls back when you slowly withdraw, only to suddenly snap your hips and hilt yourself inside him again. "-fuck, yes!"

The blood keeps you from tearing him apart but there's too little of it to keep him from feeling the painful stretch, the slow movement of your hips making his thighs shake. "Harder," He demands, yanking on your leash and biting your shoulder again. "Make me feel it." His voice is rough with a demand, because men like him never beg.

"Yes sir," You manage, bracing your feet and setting a rough pace, rutting into him like an animal. He muffles his sounds into your shoulder as your cock saws into him, his walls fluttering and clenching around you so tightly it feels like he'll snap your cock off. You do your best to focus on him and his pleasure, but the tight heat of his hole is rapidly melting any control you have, your cock throbbing and leaking precum inside him.

"Sir, please-" You whine, your muscles tight and your balls feeling so full you feel like you'll burst, your voice full of need. "I'm so close."

“Not yet.” He growls, pushing his hips down to meet your thrusts, your hand stroking his cock. “Make me cum first.” He growls.

You hold back a pathetic whine and redouble your efforts, your rough thrusts bruising his ass as you fuck into him, aiming to nail his prostate every time you bottom out. He wails, whole body shaking, his cock throbbing in your hand and leaking a puddle of precum on his stomach.

Makarov cums without any warning, going rigid and biting your shoulder even harder as pearly cum shoots from his tip, his walls clamping down on your cock. "C- cum!" He snarls, voice muffled, and it's all you need. Bottoming out fully you moan as you shoot his insides full of your cum, rocking your hips and grinding your cock against his prostate to prolong both of our highs.

You hold him close as you come down to reality but the way his walls clench around your cock makes you feel like heaven. His hands grip your jaw, bringing you down into a disorganized sloppy kiss. He's boneless in your arms, his walls continuing to flutter around you. "That was good." He slurs, chest rising and falling as he tries to catch his breath. "Good dog."

The tug of the leash is expected and Makarov kisses the corner of your lips, tongue swiping across your skin to lick up more of the blood staining your lips. "Clean me up." He orders, "Lick up your mess." He growls, and there's not a single part of you that would refuse him.

Tag list: @lieutnt, @pastelclovds @thee-great-enigma @vladimirking24

[inazuman]

i hope you find what you're looking for

☁  blade x f!reader s.mut, honkai: star rail ☁  reader is afab and goes by she/her. alpha/omega dynamics. blade helps you out during your heat, calls you “girl” “sweet girl” “baby”, consent is sexy and blade is very adamant about it. reader is jing yuan’s assistant. ☁  A/N: i cannot get sweet gentle blade off my mind after that car scene and this fic is what happened ☁ 5k words

“Watch where you’re going, miss.”

His hands fall to your waist as your back crashes against his front, attempting to blink away the frazzled state you’re in. Despite his warm hands, his touch feels like the first gulp of ice cold water on the hottest day.

Alpha, your head wants to reel. It’s sickening sweet, the way your slick pools at just a whiff of his scent.

It’s even worse when you turn around and realize who it is. Even with the mask and the sunglasses (does he really think that helps?), your heart drops.

Blade. The Stellaron Hunter who escaped from the Shackling Prison less than an hour ago.

Aeons, this really is the worst day to be getting your heat, isn’t it?

Blade immediately retracts his hands when he realizes your state. He’s been alive too many years to need to run away before his body starts reacting, but he’s still — at least partially — human. Your scent is sweet, almost needy, has his biology wanting to follow you wherever you go.

You whine at the loss of contact, your hand immediately slapping across your mouth as you come to terms with what just happened.

“I-“

“No need to apologize, it’s perfectly natural.”

This little alleyway is only used by those working with the Divine Foresight, and in the middle of a work day, nobody is walking through it. Nobody was supposed to walk through it. Maybe you should’ve figured a long lived, previously acclaimed man like him would’ve known about it and used it.

That thought would’ve been way more helpful when you were trying to track his movements earlier.

Blade’s in no rush. He hasn’t been for a long time. The time will pass anyways, after all. Elio makes no mistakes in his script, so he’s sure whatever happens here won’t affect the later situation. It’s whether you’re in the right mind state to know what’s happening, that’s his biggest concern.

“You’re-! You know rightfully, I should cuff you and bring you back to the Shackling Prison.” You try to be stern, but your core turns, causing you to buckle forward. Blade swiftly reaches across to hold you up.

“I… can help you get close to a medical bay. If your mind is still clear-“

“My mind is perfectly coherent,” you snap, and then your face immediately winces with regret. He might be a so-called criminal, but it’s not like he’s hurt you personally, and Jing Yuan strangely but oh-so-kindly asked for your understanding of him. “It only started today. My mind won’t fog until at least tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

“Hold up. You’re a criminal. On the run. And you want to help me get to a med bay? Shouldn’t you be… I don’t know, running away?”

“All will come to be as it should.”

You roll your eyes. It’s like when Jing Yuan tells Fu Xuan that it’s “not her time” with some fancy words.

Blade rephrases. “I have nowhere to be, as of right now.”

You feel your knees threatening to buckle, wincing as your hand squeezes Blade’s shoulder tight. If it affects him, his face doesn’t show it.

“Fine. Since you’re the nicest criminal looking to be a Samaritan, please help me get home. It’s not far from here.”

~

Blade is surprisingly patient, even bothers to remove his shoes before coming into the house, gracefully placing you on your sofa.

“Thank you, wanted criminal.”

He scoffs at that, but nods politely. His sunglasses and mask are tucked somewhere away now, no need for them since you know exactly who he is.

There’s a beat of silence. He should leave. He’s done his job. But you’re an omega in distress, alone. And the worst part is, you’re not doing anything.

You’re not grabbing items to make a nest, or calling an alpha, or taking any medication. Are you waiting for him to leave? You likely would’ve said something, given your clear ability to clip back. Your scent most certainly tells him to stay, but he knows better than most what it’s like to be a prisoner to your own physical body, in more ways than one.

All you do is grip at the edge of the sofa and stare at your coffee table, like an endangered animal with nowhere to go.

Maybe it’s his biology talking, but he somehow feels like he should do something.

“Is there anything else you need?”

It’s your turn to scoff, doing your best to shake off your mind. “Wow, you really are nice.” You remove your shoes, slotting them under the couch for later. And then your eyes narrow. “Or were you just looking for a pretty little omega to fuck, hm?”

If this were any other situation, he would’ve taken this opportunity to turn on his heel and leave right out the door, but something about the situation prickles at the back of his neck.

“Is this your first time handling a heat?” He asks directly.

You wince at that, wrapping a throw blanket over yourself. “No… Is it that obvious?” You sigh, bringing your knees towards yourself and pressing them against your chest. “I’ve been on suppressants for a long time.”

Blade gives you your options sincerely. “There’s an app. For those in your predicament. Otherwise, you might want to consider a nest. If you have painkillers on you, that could help too. I’ve heard it’s not much help, but it’s better than nothing.”

You breathe. “Nest. Right.” Your eyes scatter around, holding the blanket around you tight. You look like you want to get up and then you don’t, mind volleying between thoughts and decisions that end up leaving you nowhere. Blade’s chest can’t help but tighten at how lost you look.

“May I?” he asks for permission to step further into your home.

What a criminal, you want to remark. But the way your heart is pumping both from the stress and the heat within you just has you nodding. He opens your bedroom door before walking back towards you and carefully picking you up, slowly, like he’s giving you every chance to interject. To your surprise, you let him, the omega inside of you feels like it’s almost cooing at his embrace. He places you down on the armchair in the corner, washing his hands in the bathroom before taking your blanket and bunching it up in a circular motion, propping up your pillows around it.

“Okay. This is a good start. Add things that bring you comfort around you. If you like soft toys, or something like that. If you’re up to it, it would be ideal for you to shower and get into something comfortable.”

Your scent peaks, making him turn around. Your knees are tucked close to you once more, your eyes glassy. You can feel yourself descending into something, more quickly than you realized.

“Whilst I’m still coherent… I would…” you swallow, your throat feels like you’ve drunken something sweet and forgot to drink water before falling sleep. “I would appreciate if you stayed. Since you said you’re not doing anything. Not that I’m pressuring you. Your scent is…” you feel your face get hot, but Blade just nods.

“I’ll be just outside.”

~

It’s perfectly normal.

Okay, that’s not the right word. Maybe more like, it’s perfectly natural. To ask an alpha to stay with you during your heat. There’s apps for that. That’s what Blade said, right?

The shower water beats over your skin as you lightly scrub it.

Definitely not embarrassing. Or strange. Even if he is a wanted criminal. What was it, something like 8 billion credits? Would Jing Yuan even give you that if you turned him back in?

You press the edge of your palm against your eyebrow. His scent, like the woods and bergamot and faintly of incense. The wanted posters did not do him justice.

~

Blade presses a hand to his pants the moment he closes the door.

Your scent, sweeter than any sin, the glassy look in your eyes that you were so desperately blinking away, the way you gripped him as you gasped into his touch… He is not someone who struggles with self-control, but he can’t deny the way his member hardens.

He desperately tries to think. What do omegas need again? Medication. Something soft. Water.

He hears you enter the shower, the thought of you naked passes quickly in his mind, but has him gripping your doorknob tight all the same. You said something about his scent too, didn’t you? He removes his outerwear, shuffling back into your room to place it on the armchair. Just in case.

He spots your laundry hamper on his way out your room, and forces himself to look away before he gets carried away.

~

As he places a jug of water and a couple glasses on your bedside table, you chuck your hand holding a towel into his field of vision.

He doesn’t take it, instead curiously arches an eyebrow at you.

“Okay, fine, I’ll say it, since the shower cleared my mind. I am aware that you are a big bad criminal. And we’re both aware I’m in heat. But you’ve been nice. So this is my official invitation. Stay with me during it.”

“That sounds more like a demand.”

You push the towel into his hands, and this time he takes it. “We both know you’re perfectly capable of leaving here if you wanted.” You stomp back to your nest, courtesy of the handsome man in front of you, and wrap yourself into your blankets.

“The jacket gesture was nice,” you add, “but you’ve been in the Shackling Prison. Aeon knows what’s down there. So shower, and come back here.” Maybe he’s right. This does sound like a demand. “Is this arrangement… okay with you?”

The corner of Blade’s mouth upturns just a bit, but he steels himself for what he’s about to say. “I’m one of the most dangerous men the IPC has a bounty on. You’re clearly under the influence of your heat, which means we can’t be perfectly clear of your consent.”

“My mind is clear. I’m Jing Yuan’s assistant. You might be strong, but I can take a fight too. Also…” you flush with embarassment, “I have no idea what I’m doing. You clearly know more than me, and I’m guessing I’m about to get worse. Also… Jing Yuan may have told me to be nice to you even though you’re a criminal.”

Blade laughs at that, a warm sound that hits straight to your core, your hand pressing against your stomach.

“You trust the General’s words that much?”

“There’s a lot going on right now! Just take the goddamn shower!” You chuck a pillow at him, which he catches with ease and throws back.

A closer whiff of your scent has him swallowing a noise in his throat. He rationalizes that he surely can’t leave you in the hands of a random Alpha who might take advantage of your lack of knowledge, especially not someone so close to Jing Yuan.

~

“Alphas can act more… barbaric, shall we say, the heavier an omega’s heat gets. You have to fight and say it straight if you don’t want anything, you understand?”

Maybe you should’ve thought this through a little more before, because now you certainly can’t. Blade is wearing nothing except the towel you gave him wrapped low around his waist, his muscles clear and evident, scars littering his body like streaks of comets. He’s stunning.

He watches you ogle him, sighing as he cups your face gently in his palm, forcing your gaze to his face.

“Did you hear me, girl?”

And oh, maybe that’s a mistake on his part, because the moment you make eye contact with him, his breath catches. Your lips are still slick with the water you’ve been drinking, your pupils widened and full of lust. That blank look that is clearly only thinking of him. How long has it been for Blade too, since he’s had a moment like this with someone else? Centuries? Your omega scent fills the air at the skin-to-skin contact, and it makes him feel like you’re a siren pulling him in.

He can see your mind working, doing your best to force your brain to think. “I’ll tell you. I will.”

It’s only then that Blade sits in your nest with you. He notices the way you lean into him, until your head rests against his shoulder, breathing his smoky scent in.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

Blade chuckles. “My only concern is being able to control myself through this.”

You reach for him, press your face closer to his, until your noses are touching. He lets you lead, wants you to lead, so that he knows exactly what it is you want and what you’re okay with.

And you do, your mouth pressing against his, getting the first drink of what he has to offer. He thinks he could drown in you like this. His hand moves to the small of your back, his lips gentle and slow as they move against yours.

You wrap your arms around his neck, and then you’re pulling him in, and it’s like a dam that breaks open. He’s careful not to rest his whole weight on you, one hand propping himself up against your headboard, even as you squeeze your arms tighter. You didn’t realize heats could feel like this, having someone with you to hold as it sinks you in deeper. You bring your nose to the scent gland at his neck, kissing it lightly, and your scent that fllls the room in return has him making a noise akin to a growl as he presses his hand into your waist.

“Careful, girl,” he warns, but you don’t care. God, you don’t care. You feel your heat settling into your body deeper, slick pooling between your legs as you wrap them around his waist. You’re sure he can smell it, especially from the way he tries to still you.

“Mm, a little fast, don’t you think?” His teeth nips at your ear as your hands trail down his chest, over his back, the bumps from scarring only making it clearer to your heat-addled brain that he’s strong, a strong alpha.

“It’s your-,” your words die down before you can say them. It’s your job to keep us in check, you want to say. But your body starts to warm uncomfortably. Blade runs a hand up and down your torso, thumb pressing circles against your waist. Your eyebrows cinch together, kicking of the sheets yet wanting the comfort of them close to you.

“It’s okay, sweet girl. It’s called a heat for a reason.” He kisses your cheek gently, like a lover. You chase his lips, bringing him in for another kiss.

“You don’t feel hot,” you tell him as you break away, confused. Strangely enough, Blade’s body doesn’t add to your irritating warmth. If anything, it feels like the only relief. His body is warm, but where he touches you tingles softly, staving off the heaviness.

“Mm, that’s because I’m taking care of you,” he presses a kiss to your neck, dangerously close to nipping at your scent gland, before descending down your collarbone. His hands move under your shirt, a reprieve from the sweat that’s starting to sheenson your skin. You want to beg him like he’s a god to release you from the cage your heated body has become. Instead, you remove your shirt, pulling him into you once more, his skin against yours like a reverence.

He continues to kiss at the skin he’s been given access to, one hand moving to your breast, cupping it from below and pinching at your nipple. You arch into his touch, and his mind immediately goes to the thought of you arching your back as he presses his member into you.

He wants more. He wants so, so much more.

Does he dare let himself indulge? His thoughts flitter away as you release him from the death grip your arms had him in, allowing him to descend his mouth down to your breasts, to kiss at the skin, teeth scraping lightly over a nipple, his hands skating over your stomach and to the waistband of your pants.

You’re sobbing into him now, somehow he’s skin to skin with you and it feels like it’s not nearly close enough. Your head feels full of cotton, his body and the feeling of his wet tongue lapping at you, lips wrapping around your nipple, encompassing you so fully you sometimes forget to breathe.

You tap his shoulder as he kisses down your stomach, and he looks up at you with curious eyes.

“Can’t- can’t take it,” you heave, hands stroking his hair. “Take me now,” your thighs tighten around him. “Need- I need”

“No.”

His answer is so clipped that it shocks you, and you’re almost distracted by him removing your pants from you, leaving your soft panties for his view.

“Wha- Blade,” you sigh his name, you meant for it to be a scolding, but then he’s kissing right above the waistband of your panties and you feel the air rush out of you all too delicately. “You- don’t you want-”

“This is about what you want.”

“I just told you what I want!”

“You’re not ready.” His words are almost a whisper now, voice gruff between your legs, his hair tickling the inside of your thighs as he presses his nose to your clothed core and breathes you in. God, he feels like an animal, his member hardening at just the scent of your slick. Don’t you know he’s already holding back? Don’t you know the way you’re beckoning him to give it to you now is more torture for him than it is for you?

“What? Blade, you can’t be serious.”

He grunts. “I’m serious.” His saliva coats his mouth, gripping your thighs a little tighter. “May I?”

“God, Blade, yes. Do whatever you’re gonna do since you’re not gonna-”

He relishes in the way your breath catches and the words fall out of your mouth the moment he laps his wet tongue over your clothed core. The sound you let out is a wrecked thing.

You distinctly hear a ripping sound, the material giving way against your skin and chucked somewhere behind him.

“Blade!”

“I’ll buy you new ones,” he groans, and then his tongue is pressed against your folds and oh, it’s like heaven’s greatest sin, so close to the relief you so desperately want. He doesn’t sound any better, moans falling from his lips that are pressed against your core, purposefully wrapping his arms around your thighs and pressing them towards his face so he can have you all around him, your skin and scent and sweat only adding to the way he has to grind his hips into your bed.

You intertwine your fingers with his, gripping tight, and he can’t help but feel his heart lurch a little at how cute the gesture is. You know exactly who he is, but the way you’re gasping his name asking him for more, more makes him feel like less of a monster and more like a lover, your lover.

He swallows every drop of pearly wetness you afford him, his suckles over your folds slowly growing more desperate. He wants to breathe you in, drink you up, give you all he can. He settles with splitting your folds with his tongue, flicking your clit over and over again, gripping your thighs tight, and mumbling into your skin about how “you’re so pretty like this, wanna watch you make a mess on my face” between breaths.

He doesn’t have to wait long, your grip on his hand gets tighter with each lather of his wet muscle, your core tightening as you try your best to tell him that you’re close, so close.

“Yeah, baby? You’re gonna give it to me?” he whispers against your skin, lips glistening as they delve back in. “Go ahead then, show me how pretty you look when you cum.”

He watches you as you cum, letting out a broken moan, your thighs pressing against the sides of his face impossibly tighter, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. You sob as your hips thrust into his face, his hands never letting yours go, tongue working you through every shock of your orgasm. He does his best to savor every drop. It’s for him, because of him, after all.

You’re shocked he’s still going when you come back to, your thrashing going from intense pleasure to overstimulation, your hands pushing against his in an attempt to get away from the way he’s still sucking on your clit.

“Too much! Blade, I’m so sensitive, it’s so much, oh, gods.”

“Mm,” he acknowledges you, but doesn’t let up, still holding your legs tight against himself. He’s not done, doesn’t want to be.

“Blade, BladeBladeBlade, I can’t, I really can’t, wha-“ Something shifts inside of you, and the feeling is like being choked, your lungs out of breath and desperately trying to take in air as the pain gives way to pleasure. Every wave feels like a drug, so quick to become putty in his hands as he drags you to another orgasm. This time it’s slower to build, but so much more intense, your body uncontrollable as it tenses harshly, gripping his hair, and you come undone on his tongue once more.

“Blade, holy, what-“ you try to catch your breath, desperate for each gulp of air you take in.

He groans in satisfaction, his grin carnivorous as he swipes his tongue over his lips, wiping the excess with the back of his hand.

“Good girl. Came so well for me, didn’t you?” His smirk is evident, canines pressing down just slightly against his tongue. He peppers kisses against your inner thigh.

“Gods, Blade. Just-“ your legs shake as you attempt to reel him in, grabbing his hand with yours, and this time he lets you, kissing you deep, his tongue grazing against the back of your teeth.

You lay your hand flat against his abs, sliding them down until your fingertips reach the towel, haphazardly pulling it off. He draws in a sharp breath at the feeling of the cool air on his member, pressing his hand down to your waist. His mind reels with just the thought of having you, the thought of his cock sliding into you, lubricated by your slick and his spit.

When he pulls his lips away from yours, you finally get to look at him, your hand wrapping around his dick as he exhales a soft ‘mm’.

You pump your hand up once, twice, before he’s taking your hand in his and putting it away.

“Blade, please. You’re so hard,” you’re sure between your legs is shiny with your slick and his spit. He doesn’t falter anymore, pressing your thighs back towards your chest, lining himself up with his cunt, gritting his teeth as the sensitive head catches against your folds.

“You’re-,” he grips your thighs a little harder, steeling himself against you. “Stay still, girl.”

“Please.”

“I’m getting there*.”*

“You’ve been teasing me for hours-”

“You’ve cum twice. Don’t make me show you what teasing really looks like.” He finally presses himself into you, a short intake of breath passes through his teeth as the head slips in. He plays with you, he has to be, sliding in and out of you, giving you just a little more each time.

You’re gripping his shoulders, pulling his body close to yours, his grunts so soft you might almost miss them if his mouth wasn’t against your ear. You’re faring no better, pressed chest to chest against him as he sinks into you.

“Oh,” you gasp, and he grunts in return, his forehead pressing against yours so he can watch and feel your every reaction. His hand grips the headboard, the wood creaks as if it’s about to give in to him, trying his damn best not to slam into you like he knows he wants to. He sheaths himself in whole, finally, the head of his cock pressing against your cervix. It feels downright cruel, the way you grip around him, your pretty whines against his ear.

“Are you-”

“Please,” you beg him, because nothing has ever felt so right and you think you might die if he doesn’t give it to you.

He huffs. “You’re not gonna die, baby. I’ll give it to you.”

“Well hurry up with it or I might,” you tilt your hips up, trying to move under his weight but he’s heavy, pinning you down and yet it’s exactly what you need. He moves off of you slightly only to bring his hands behind your knees, pressing them to your chest, and there’s a moment where you’re not really sure where he’s going with this until he-

“You’re so tight,” he grunts, and then he’s slamming into you hard. “Wanted to make this easy for you, ease you in, but you just had to go and be a brat.” You think your mind bluescreens from the pleasure-pain of his cock sliding all the way out to the tip only to press back into you, ramming against your cervix with every other press of his hips against yours, your heat coiling like a serpent in your core, like the slow drip of syrup through your body.

He brings his hand down between your bodies, fingers tapping against your clit. “Taking my cock so well, aren’t you?” His voice is low and heavy, and all you can do is say his name in return. “You’re a good little omega, aren’t you baby? Good girl, good fucking girl.”

You thought he’d be quiet, but something about his cock inside of you has the words tumbling out of his mouth. You can both feel his knot starting to swell, the heat of it making him sweat, the way it widens right at the base. It makes his hips stutter, more desperate, prevents him from sliding out all the way like he was before so he fucks you faster.

“Wanna feel you cum around my cock.” Your legs are over his shoulder now, one hand running circles over your clit, the other making its way around your neck. He doesn’t choke you, doesn’t press down, only holds you there as a show of power, but something about it has you arching your back into him.

He thinks it’s dangerous, makes him feel like you belong to him.

“Wanna cum around your cock,” you whisper to him in return, and he grunts.

“Yeah?” He smirks, but it’s gentle, almost like a smile, a soft upturn at the corner of his mouth. “Been aching for an alpha’s cock inside of you, haven’t you?”

“Just yours,” you tell him, your fingernails scratching at the nape of his neck. The confession has him pressing his teeth right next to your scent gland, making a mark where you can’t hide.

“This pussy belongs to me now, then,” he says it like something between a demand and a prayer. You gasp yes into his ear as you get closer to the edge, teetering off it. “Show me how my pussy cums for me. Cum around my cock, baby. You’ve been aching for it, haven’t you?” You can feel the pulse of his knot, his adam apple jumping as he swallows, mouth dry. “Go ahead and cum for me then.”

It’s your alpha’s order, your body follows like it responds only to his demands, it feels like it’s being ripped out of you as your chest presses against his and your mind goes blank, your slick gushing around his knot. He’s only seconds behind, spilling into you with a groan, his face in your shoulder, his nose against your scent gland so he can memorize the sweetness of you right at your peak.

It’s with a deep intake of breath that you both relax. He’s careful to position his body next to yours, to make sure he doesn’t crush you, even as his cock stays inside of you, his knot still slightly swollen. He swipes your hair back, thumb tracing over your hairline as he kisses your forehead, then your cheek, then presses his lips against yours for something saccharine sweet. You let him, drinking him in.

“Stay,” you tell him, and he chuckles, because it’s still more of an order than a request.

“Still got attitude,” he holds you close, rolling both of you over so you’re lying on top of him. “Not going anywhere, baby. Relax.”

“For my whole heat. Take my number too, while you’re at it.” Your words slur together, but the genuinity shows in your eyes.

“I’m a wanted criminal.” He says frankly.

“Oh yeah? Should’ve- fuck- should’ve told me that earlier. It’s almost like there’s a wanted poster on every street of you.”

“It doesn’t look like me.” He rakes a hand through your hair, his other massages the soreness in your thigh.

“Why’d Jing Yuan let you go anyways?”

“You wanna say another man’s name with my dick still inside of you?”

“Ah, sorry, so possessive. I think it’s going down now.” You lift yourself off of it slowly, and Blade watches with reverence as his seed slips out of you, milky white. He catches it on his fingers, pressing it back.

“S-Sensitive,” your nails press into his chest, and he kisses your shoulder in apology.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“Can’t move.”

“I’ll carry you.”

“We just showered.”

“Just a rinse. Then I’ll add your number, okay?”

“Okay.”

[some-bunniii]

Lucifer meeting an artist reader

・❥ The King of Hell admires your paintings

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

x: reader is g/n :) no use of pronouns or y/n

warnings: some raunchy details of your painting & mild swearing

When you arrived in Hell, the first thing you did was scream.

Where were you? Why was it so hot? What happened to your bed?!

“You’re in Hell, kid.” A blue bat-faced man had broke the news, as you stood helpless and confused on the street.

Hell? Like, demons and dark satanic magic kind of Hell?

That couldn’t be right. Were you that bad of a person to deserve such a fate? Did the few times you passed the Salvation Army donation bucket without dropping a coin damn you to this place?

Your death was fuzzy, a trail of shattered memories that could only give you bits and pieces of your final days. Did you go quickly in your sleep? Maybe, you hit your head so hard it caused you some kind of post-death amnesia?

Whatever had happened, you were here now with no way out.

During your first few days scouring for answers, you began to notice that Hell had an eerie similarity to life above ground. There were clubs, casinos, concerts. Heck, even TV! Sure, the things broadcasted were dark and sometimes disgusting.. but at least you had something to watch.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all? At least, compared to being thrown into dark, fiery pits for all of eternity like some cruel game of sink or swim.

Minus the people, of course. Most of them were pretty bad. Your first day watching a man get shot in the chest and lines of cocaine across tables in a diner made you decide to stay away from the streets of the city.

Which meant you had to get busy making a life for yourself. It started with working odd jobs as a bartender or a bell-hopper. You’d scrap together enough money to head to the nearest art supply store, and fill your bag with paints and charcoal pencils.

“You an artist or something?” The clerk had asked you as she scanned your items, taking note of your vast amount of diverse tools you were slowly collecting every time you stopped by.

“I usually paint, but yes, I used to do all kinds of mediums professionally when I was.. alive,” You had whispered that last part out with a pang of sadness, the reality of your situation still a fresh wound in your mind.

You had found an ad for an art studio, ran by a demon named Alexandre. You had showed him a few of your pieces, some pretty landscapes, a rendition of the Starry Night Sky which you had replaced the backdrop to be Pentagram city instead of whatever little village it was originally, and a self portrait.

“You got talent, i’ll give you that,” He had hummed, as his eyes scanned your paintings with intrigue, “But the subject? Not really what we’re looking for.”

“What do you mean?” You had asked, confusion evident in your voice.

“We’re in Hell, demons ain’t into pretty ponies and happy, little trees. They want more— eh how do i put this — sinful behavior?”

“Like…?”

“Like tits or anything that can be turned into a kink. They like blood and guts, and dead people splayed around. Dead angels too. Stuff like that.”

Tits? Dead people? You didn’t have much practice with that! At least not enough to make a career out of it.

But you had agreed anyway, this was your only shot. You stayed up late into the night, sometimes even into the early mornings, perfecting your skill when it came to much more risqué visuals. You would buy stacks of pornograohic magazines, flipping through for poses to memorize.

Slowly, you began to master the craft, and your time at the studio increased as you finally settled into life in Hell.

All you had to do was churn out painting after pastel after acrylic in the little cramped room you now called home. Alexandre would then take your pieces and sell them to the highest bidder. You’d get a percentage of the commission, using the money for whatever necessary.

Seeing as you could be mugged at literally any point in time, or anywhere for that matter, you made sure to keep a large sum of cash locked away in a double-bolted safe.

“You know Ozzie’s, that club down in the Lust Ring?” Alexandre had approached you one day, excitement in his eyes.

You shook your head as you sat behind the easel, your brush an inch from the canvas.

“Run by Asmodeus, one of the literal seven deadly sins?”

You shook your head once more.

“Fuck, you still have a lot to learn. Well, he really likes your art. He wants to buy a bunch of paintings for his club, and he’ll drop a shit ton of cash too. Ya think you can handle it?”

Your eyes had widened when he told you the exact price this sin guy was willing to pay. You had jumped from your seat, shaking his hand in profuse thanks, before scurrying off to gather more supplies.

And for a time, that’s how it went. You’d sell your steamiest paintings to Asmodeus, and other private commissions you took one after the other.

Apparently, your painting hung up in Ozzie’s was getting a lot of attention. Especially from a certain spider demon named Angel Dust.

After hearing Charlie’s decision to look for another member of their staff— someone who’d be in charge of decorating the premise with promises of love and tranquility up in Heaven— Angel Dust had taken a few snaps of your work with his phone, before showing it to Vaggie and Charlie. He had complimented your work, claiming it was ‘the best’ oil paintings he’d ever seen.

Although, in his line of work, he probably hadn’t seen many to compare yours so.

“ls this what we want in our hotel?" Vaggie had asked, motioning to a woman on the canvas that was drenched in sweat and white fluid, her private parts exposed to the audience as she posed suggestively on a stripper pole.

To which Charlie has responded, "I think it's... unique! You can definitely see she knows how to, um, really bring the scene to life! l'm sure she'll be open to creating our vision!"

Your phone had rung one night, with a voice on the other end begging you to come to her hotel and at least hear her offer for a new job.

Which lead you to the Hazbin Hotel, a slightly run down building that obviously needed more work. Inside and out.

“Oh my gosh! Hi there! My name is Charlie, and this is my hotel! it’s such a pleasure to meet you!”

“Thanks.. but I don’t see many guests around.” You had told her, your eyes darting around the lobby as you absorbed your surroundings.

“Well, we’re still trying to get our name out there. We’re not just any hotel, we’re a hotel set on redeeming sinners!” She exclaimed with pride.

“Redeem?” You had asked her, an eyebrow raised in disbelief.

She shook her head vigorously, “This hotel.. it’s going to be amazing! We’re going to turn Sinners into well.. non-sinners! They’ll be rehabilitated, and have morals! And honor! Heaven won’t be able to do anything but welcome them as angels!”

This idea had sounded a little far-fetched when you first heard it.

“You’ll be in charge of making art that reflects such views! Something that will make Sinners go, ‘Wow! Now that’s where I want to go!’”

“What’s in it for me?” You had asked.

“Well you’ll have your own room, and your own little studio too! I’m sure it’s much bigger than the one you already have. Plus we have a bar, and good company!”

You turned your head to the small crowd of demons a few feet away. A pornstar, a gambler, a snake guy with weird little walking eggs, and a really creepy man in a red coat that shot you a wide smile with eyes that seemed to stare right through your soul.

This was good company?

You contemplated her words, thinking deeply. Did you really need to leave the studio you were already a part of? You already had a room and place to paint, anyway.

Charlie must have noticed your hesitation to accept before quickly adding,

“Anddd you can sell your pieces here too! Plus, you can keep a hundred percent of the earnings.”

You perked up at that, the money made from your art would be... all yours? And, you’d get a breather from the drawing people having sex? That didn’t sound so bad after all!

“Deal!” You had reached out a hand, shaking hers with delight.

It had taken you a day or two to map out the interior of the hotel and figure out what could go where. You began to slowly brainstorm, what could make a sinner stare at a canvas and want to redeem themselves?

During your time on earth, you studied many artists through history. Most notably however, were those from the Renaissance. You remembered walking through the Sistine Chapel when you were younger,

staring at awe of the paintings of winged angels and heavenly skies.

You perked at that thought. That was it! The inspiration for your paintings, an ethereal perspective on what one would find in heaven. The feelings of bliss and care-free joy.

You spent your first few days in an undisturbed area of the hotel, it was a large room on the farthest side of the lobby. It must’ve been a guest room at one point, but other than a bed and few cushions that the ‘Radio Demon’ had placed for you, it was empty.

It was quiet enough that you could sit there, undisturbed, as you drew upon your memories and vast knowledge of histories in art as you slowly began to bring your ideas to life. Slowly, the room also took form into being yours, personal knick-knacks and stacks upon stacks of blank canvases waiting to bring your visions to life.

At the end of every day, you'd come out with your hands covered in charcoal and paint, your hard work on full display.

You had even grown closer to the other residents in the hotel, beginning to see them as more than their initial appearance. Even Alastor, who still kind of gave you the creeps, you had regarded as someone you could speak to without hesitation.

You’d sit on the couches with Angel Dust, drowning in popcorn as you watched whatever was on TV for the night. Sometimes, you’d sit with Husk at the bar as you listened to his stories from his days at the casino and as an Overlord.

It was there, when Charlie had summoned the courage to call her father, Lucifer, the King of Hell, to come visit the hotel and decide on getting her that meeting with the higher powers in Heaven.

Upon hearing about Lucifer's impending visit, you felta mixture of nerves and excitement. You've heardstories about him-his charisma, his power--but you never expected to meet him, let alone showcase your art to him. Would he even like them? He's no doubt seen much more beautiful sights.

As preparations for Lucifer's visit got more chaotic by the minute, you found yourself back in your Atelier, quickly cleaning up your room and berating yourself for any little mistakes you found in your paintings. Each stroke of the brush carried with it a sense of urgency, a desire to impress not just your friends at the hotel, but also the King of Hell himself.

The current piece you were working on was your most intense one yet. It depicted that of an almost nude man, flying high in the skies. His back was faced towards you, his face hidden from view. He was faced towards the sun, which bathed him in a warm glow. Arms outstretched, knees curled in, it seemed as if the angel was going to give the sun a large bear-hug.

It wasn’t until you heard loud commotion in the lobby did you realize Lucifer had arrived. Quickly dropping the brush you were holding, you sneaked down the stairs and quickly neared the archway of the lobby.

Peaking your head out, you canned the large room. Until your eyes locked in a pale figure. Lucifer.

He was beautiful, definitely held the looks of an angel that fell from heaven. His light blonde hair curled elegantly around his face. The candles from the chandelier above basked him in an ethereal glow, as though he could replace the sun itself. Just like the angel from your painting.

His eyes reminded you mostly of a snake. Calculating and cold, but holding so much wisdom and depth. There was a slight sadness there as well, as though itate at him slowly, consuming his soul. It was masked incredibly well though, and you only caught a glimpse before it disappeared.

His attitude toward his daughter made your heartmelt, it was obvious he cared about her in the way heacted and spoke to Charlie, even if his absence didn't speak so fondly of him.

As Lucifer and Alastor butted heads, you quickly scurried back to your room. You had hoped to finish your work-in-progress by the time he arrived, but the struggle to get those damn angel wings to be anatomically correct was a pain.

You hurriedly continued your work, trying to calm your nerves by busying yourself with the painting in front of you.

Charlie's voice broke you out of your concentration soon after, multiple footsteps closing in on where your room lay. You shot up from your seat, and stood up straight, ready to meet the man of the hour.

You couldn't help but feel a flutter of anticipation mixed with apprehension as they approached your make-shift gallery.

Charlie, Vaggie, and— wow, he looked so much better up close— Lucifer stepped through the doorway.

“Dad, this is the newest addition to our staff! They are in charge of helping to inspire our future guests through the power of art!" Charlie proclaimed with glee, pulling you by the arm towards her father.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, your majesty. I apologize for being so messy, I was just finishing up another painting." You had greeted him softly.

"Don't worry, you look great," He assured, a gleam in his eyes, "and the pleasure is all mine, anyone who is willing to help my little girl is someone worth meeting,"

You stood there for a moment. Unsure of where to go next, before you felt a slight nudge from Charlie that pulled you back to reality, "Why don't we take a look at your paintings? I promise you, Dad, they are amazing!" She squealed softly.

Beckoning Lucifer forward, you took him through each painting. You described your feelings for each piece, and what made you choose them for the hotel.

You rambled on and on, and Lucifer never said anything, he just listened as you spoke.

Which made you nervous, what was he thinking? Did he like them, or was he just waiting for you to stop talking so he could quickly escape to something of more interest to him? The thought made sweat dribble down your forehead.

To your surprise, Lucifer's reaction to your art was not what you expected. Instead of dismissing it as mere frivolity, he studied each piece with genuine interest, his expression thoughtful and contemplative.

He mostly stayed quiet, but once in awhile would throw in a joke here and there if he noticed anything of interest in the paintings.

His goofy nature that you caught onto watching him earlier was barely evident though, unlike when he was trying to impress his daughter.

After finishing the small tour, you turned to him in anticipation. Your hands nervously rubbing together, as you shot a glance to Charlie, and she gave you an uncertain look. You both held the same question in your gaze: What is he thinking?

"These paintings.." Lucifer began, his voice low and melodic, "Are different than most i've seen down here, not just some scandalous display, but with real meaning. They evoke emotions long buried, memories of a time before.. all this."

His words caught you off guard, and you found yourself nodding in agreement, unable to tear your gaze away from his intense eyes.

The one he was staring at in particular was a recreation of The Garden of Eden by Jan Breghal, a painting that depicted the place where humanity was birthed, and where it fell.

“Does it look like.. how you remembered?" You had asked slowly, if anyone could validate the truth in your work, it would be him.

"Actually, this is much prettier. The real deal doesn't do your painting justice," He replied, "It was so boring, just green on green."

Also," He added, "An unfortunate lack of ducks. Humanity should be grateful that I got them out of that forest, so they could see something actually worthwhile.. and with ducks."

You giggled softly at his words, have you ever met someone that seemed to love ducks as much as him?

As Lucifer continued to explore the room, you couldn’t help but notice the way he lingered on certain paintings, his fingers tracing the delicate lines with reverence. It was as if he saw something in your art that no one else did, something profound and personal.

Perhaps your choice of baby-faced angels, and ethereal landscapes brought back memories of his time in Heaven. Hopefully, that wasn't a bad thing.

When Lucifer finally turned to you, his gaze softened, a hint of something unreadable lurking beneath the surface. "You have a rare gift," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "To create beauty in a place like this... it's truly remarkable."

He looked at you for a moment, before a smile crept onto his lips. He was Lucifer, he knew exactly what you meant. It's what drove him to manipulate Eve to eat from the Tree of Life in the first place.

Was he finally getting a glimpse of the good free will brought to humanity? Was there actually meaning in his past actions that sent him to the depths of Hell?

His gaze narrowed in on the canvas behind you, and he slipped past you. "What is this?" He asked with intrigue, pointing towards your unfinished painting.

“My final piece. I've been working on it for days, but I just can't get the wings right.. believe it or not, i've never actually seen angel wings in person." You said that last bit as a joke.

His smile sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach. For the King of Hell, it was surprisingly warm, and kind.

Then an idea struck you, but you tried to desperately to push it down. Except it seemed like the only time you could ask someone with angel wings to let you use them as a reference. How many fallen angels were in Hell, anyway?

"I'm so sorry if this is out of line, but. could I, um, borrow you for a little bit? I've just been having trouble drawing the wings correctly and you, well, have them?”

His eyes widened, and his chest puffed slightly at your question. He shot you a toothy grin, “Paint me? Why didn't you mention that earlier?! I have the perfect figure for such a thing.”

Behind him, Charlie rolled her eyes, a hint of a smile on her lips. You smiled too, you should've known he'd have no problem with it, he was the embodiment of pride after all.

He plopped down on a stool before you, and removed his overcoat. Beneath what seemed to be a red and white gatsby vest that hugged his frame perfectly. Jeez, he was almost too good looking.

He stretched out his large wings, folding the otherfour behind him, only revealing the two much largerones. They were breathtaking, truly. They looked so fluffy too!

You guided him on the exact position you needed them to be in, before making your way to the canvas and getting to work.

Assuring the group you only needed to get a visual on the canvas, the actual work you would do on your own. Slowly, you traced the frame of his wings, etching out the soft lines of his feathers and the curvatures of its form.

You could only imagine how soft those feathers were and what it would be like to curl around them like a pillo-

You shook your head to rid those thoughts. Why were you thinking such things about Lucifer like that? It's not like he would even want to let you go anywhere near him or his wings.

Would he?

You continued your painting, trying not to meet his gaze as you would occasionally peak your head from behind the large canvas to get another good look at his wings.

There was a moment when you two did lock eyes, and he sent a half-lidded smirk in your direction. Thankfully the large object between you two helped hide your growing blush. He was obviously just trying to get you worked up, you assured yourself. Just like he did with Alastor. In a different way, of course.

"This reminds me of when Charlie was younger" Lucifer began, filling the silence, "We sat for a good few hours trying to get a family portrait painted and she would just not sit still!”

“Dad.. please, not right now." Charlie growled out in embarrassment, her cheeks flushed. Vaggie only smiled beside her, listening intently as Lucifer filled everyone in on her younger years.

“lt got to the point where I had to summon her favorite toy to get her to stop squirming, everything was smooth sailing after that.

"And what was her favorite toy?" You inquired softly behind the canvas

“A rubber duck! Like the ones you play with in the bath? She could not get enough of it whenever it squeaked. One time the squeaker broke, and I went to my workshop and crafted her a magical one that meowed instead! Haha!"

Okay, this family really has a thing for ducks!

“She hated it, but that only inspired me to keep making more. Sometimes, we'd sit together on the work bench, and I would just come up with ideas like confetti-spitting, or color changing ducks. She wasn't too good at speaking at that time, so every time she'd laugh that was my clue that she liked it!"

It was sweet, the way he rambled about his daughter. He never spoke of himself or his accomplishments, despite embodying the sin of pride. It was almost like his only pride was his best creation, Charlie.

He continued, the room full of jokes and laughter, even from Vaggie, regarding Charlie's life as a youngling. You listened intently to his stories, his voice dripping with amusement as he recounted story after story.

lt was so sappy and you loved it. Which made you grumble quietly to yourself, why did you have to have a thing for DILFS?! Concentrate on the painting!

After a moment, Lucifer's eyes turned back to the paintings around him, his gaze scanning each painting once more. "I've noticed that you seem to have a repetition in your work.. not that that's a bad thing!" He quickly corrected.

“But in all of your paintings featuring angels, there's always a swan swimming or resting nearby. Do they hold any significance, or are they just a passion for you?"

You looked up from the canvas, and also traced the angelic figures across the room. He was right, with the images of the divine beings also came the appearance of the large, white water fowl. Lying lazily beside the angels, or swimming across pools of water as the care-free beings danced and frolicked.

You contemplated for a moment, before speaking truthfully.

“I just think Swans are elegant and ethereal creatures. They embody the purest of souls, untouched by the taint of sin that consumes the world, just like how their feathers remain untouched from the waters they glide on"

Lucifer's eyes lit up slightly, drinking up your words.

“Plus," You continue, "they mate for life, and allow themselves to just.. decay once their significant other departs from the world. It's very romantic, and love is one of the purest emotions in the world."

Lucifer wasn't looking at you when your eyes met his again, his stare was far off. Past the room entirely, as your words echoed through him. There it was again, the glimpse of sadness that he tried to hide so painfully well.

“Does such love like that exist?," he murmured so softly you had to strain your ears.

There was a few moments of deathly silence before Charlie piped up, asking her father something about heaven. You tried to listen, but your mind was stuck on his words. Lucifer was in heaven once, and he still didn't fully believe in such things?

If there weren't others in the room, perhaps you would’ve asked him.

It took a few more minutes before you were able to wrap up fully, but you had no regrets of asking this man for help, the angel on the canvas actually looked like he had wings, not just stumps of white tuft.

You got up from your seat and walked towards him, noticing that Charlie and her girlfriend were not present anymore. It was just you and Lucifer in theroom now.

“Well, thank you, Your Majesty. You really helped me out here, and it'll go a long way to make the hotel look even better"

“Please, call me Lucifer. The formalities are only for subjects, not friends," he replied, "l did really enjoy getting to see your paintings, you are quite a phenomenal artist. I wasn't lying when I said your work was different from the rest. If only you were around for those family portraits."

You were so taken aback by his praise that you only shrugged it off, like it was no big deal. Even though, coming from the King of Hell, it was.

Glancing behind him, you saw Charlie and Vaggie whispering to each other in the hallway outside of the door. You assumed they probably wanted to finish up so they could get him to agree to the meeting with Heaven.

lgnoring his previous statement of formalities— he was the king, you thought, you weren't going to just pat him on the back and say 'see ya! —you lowered your head and bent down to curtsy, just like you were taught when you were younger, placing your hand slightly in front of you.

Usually, you'd use that hand to shake or grasp the other person's, but it felt wrong to treat this powerful angel like any other man.

Suddenly, you felt the soft touch of fingers gliding across your hand. In confusion, you looked up at those golden eyes and that charming smile. Trying to get a glimpse of what he was thinking.

His hand gripped yours gently, and with a bow of his own, lowered his lips, and pressed a soft kiss your knuckles.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you feared to blink, soaking in his beauty for as long as you could before he had the chance to pull away. You wanted to say something, but your tongue was refusing to work as your mouth opened and closed silently.

When he finally released your hand, he adjusted his hat and turned towards the door. Leaving you standing there, your face burning hot

He cleared his throat, and turned his head slightly, his eye catching yours. A playful smile dancing on his lips.

“l look forward to our next portrait together, hopefully where I am the motivation behind your strokes. Not just these dull wings."

And with his words hanging in the air, you were left alone, with the growing itch to press your face into a pillow and squeal.

——————

awww man, my first fic! I was trying to make this more dating-centric, but i couldn’t stop writing for their first meeting and it got too long haha! If y’all like this one enough, i’ll make a dating version!

let me know what you think 🙏 i reallyyyy appreciate all comments and criticisms!!

wonderful art i commissioned by DawnDrawnS on twitter! <3

[poohsources]

🐝  *  ―  𝑬𝑷𝑰𝑪: 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑼𝑺𝑰𝑪𝑨𝑳 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺.

Troy Saga ❛  do what i say and you'll see them again.  ❜ ❛  what do you live for? what do you try for?  ❜ ❛  say no more, i know tat i'm ready.  ❜ ❛  the blood on your hands is something you won't lose.  ❜ ❛  is the price i pay endless pain?  ❜ ❛  something feels off here, i see fire but there's no smoke.  ❜ ❛  we should try to find a way no one ends up dead.  ❜ ❛  why should we take when we could give?  ❜ ❛  i see in your face, there's so much guilt inside your heart.  ❜ ❛  have you forgotten the lessons i taught you?  ❜

The Cyclops Saga ❛  it's almost too perfect, too god to be true.  ❜ ❛  what gives you the right to deal a pain so deep?  ❜ ❛  your life now is in my hand.  ❜ ❛  remember them, we're the ones who carry on.  ❜ ❛  what good would killing do when mercy is a skill more of this world could learn to use?  ❜ ❛  i am your darkest moment.  ❜ ❛  i don't know where i went wrong but i warned ya', and you failed the test.  ❜ ❛  that's just like you, why should i be surprised?  ❜ ❛  unlike you, every time someone dies i'm left to deal with the strain.  ❜ ❛  i'll remind you i saw you as a friend but now we're done.  ❜

The Ocean Saga ❛  at this rate, we won't make it out alive.  ❜ ❛  please don't tell me you're about to do what i think you'll do.  ❜ ❛  yes, but how much longer til your luck runs out?  ❜ ❛  you rely on wit, and people die on it.  ❜ ❛  you're like the brother i could never do without.  ❜ ❛  and suddenly you doubt that i could figure this out?  ❜ ❛  keep your friends close and your enemies closer, never really know who you can trust.  ❜ ❛  'cause the end always justifies the means.  ❜ ❛  do you know who i am?  ❜ ❛  you are the worst kind of good 'cause you're not even great.  ❜

The Circe Saga ❛  whatever you need to say can wait some more.  ❜ ❛  there's no length i wouldn't go if it was you i had to save.  ❜ ❛  wouldn't you like a taste of the power?  ❜ ❛  don't thank me friend, you very well may die.  ❜ ❛  did you do something to them?  ❜ ❛  if you make one wrong move, then you're done for.  ❜ ❛  you and i are now evenly matched.  ❜ ❛  you've given me no reason to bestow you with my trust.  ❜ ❛  who's to say, with the mistakes i've made that they will be the last mistakes i ever make?  ❜ ❛  this is the price we pay to love.  ❜

The Underworld Saga ❛  all i hear are screams, every time i dare to close my eyes.  ❜ ❛  i no longer dream, only nigtmares of those who've died.  ❜ ❛  when does a man become a monster?  ❜ ❛  now you tell us our effort's are for nothing?  ❜ ❛  how has everything been turned against us?  ❜ ❛  do i need to change?  ❜ ❛  i'm the only one whose line i haven't crossed.  ❜ ❛  what if i'm the problem that's been hiding all along?  ❜ ❛  what if i've been far too kind to foes but a monster to ourselves?  ❜ ❛  if i became the monster and threw that guilt away would that make us stronger?  ❜

The Thunder Saga ❛  you wouldn't have spared me. i made a mistake like this, it almost cost my life.  ❜ ❛  i've got a secret i can no longer keep.  ❜ ❛  you know that we are the same.  ❜ ❛  we must do what it takes to survive.  ❜ ❛  tell me you did not know that would happen.  ❜ ❛  if you want all the power, you must carry all the blame.  ❜ ❛  how are we supposed to trust you now?  ❜ ❛  how much longer must i suffer now?  ❜ ❛  someone's gotta die today and you have got the final say.  ❜ ❛  please don't make me do this.  ❜

The Wisdom Saga ❛  you've made your worst mistake here.  ❜ ❛  this cruel world doesn't give out presents just for being good.  ❜ ❛  you're my friend, i couldn't ask for more.  ❜ ❛  did you know you talk in your sleep?  ❜ ❛  i'm what you want here, i'm what you need here.  ❜ ❛  you don't know what i've gone through.  ❜ ❛  i know your life's been hard, i'll stay inside your heart.  ❜ ❛  life would be so much worse if you had died.  ❜ ❛  you dare to defy me, to make me feel shame?  ❜ ❛  no one beats me, no one wins my game.  ❜

[emmcfrxst]

Something in me wants to think that Logan has a thing for listening to his partner’s heartbeat

Like maybe it’s a kink, maybe it’s just a soothing thing, but his heightened senses allow him to be able to hear it without laying on their chest. And it just *does* something for him.

honestly i’d say it’s both a kink and a soothing thing— it really grounds him to close his eyes and focus on the steady beating of your heart when he’s plagued with nightmares or having flashbacks; hearing your heart beat not only assures him that you’re alive and well, but also that you’re safe—which, by extension, reminds him that he is safe, too. it really does wonders when it comes to bringing him back to the present. when it comes to the more primal, sexual side, hearing your heartbeat acts as a confirmation that you do want him; hearing it spike when he touches you or says something absolutely fucking filthy most definitely makes him throb in the confines of those tight ass jeans he always wears— he can literally hear the effect he has on you and it excites him like nothing ever has before. even more so if you decide to play the unaffected card and pretend that you’re not aroused by whatever shit he’s pulling (because if there’s one thing logan howlett loves to do, it’s pull ridiculous shit and be cocky like a huge fucking nerd because it makes you laugh and there’s nothing he loves doing more in this life than be the cause for your laughter) and you’re like “you wish, old man” with a hand pushing at his chest and a giggle coming from between your lips and that’s when he’ll cage you in between him and whatever surface is closest to you, close enough so your chests are touching and he can feel your breathing quickening, lips close to your ear where he can’t help but grunt softly because he can fucking smell the way the action makes you drip, and blow softly on the shell of your ear before murmuring “you sure you not the one doin’ the wishin’, bub? cause i can fuckin’ hear your heart pounding. can fuckin’ smell you too.” with a large, rough palm splaying across your waist, making you moan softly, cheeks flushed and eyes half lidded because you know you lost the pretending war then and there. but alas, with logan being logan, he won’t actually touch you anywhere you need him to until you’re admitting to your lies and beg for him, getting you exactly where he wants you to be; in his arms, naked and needy and fucking aching for him.

[katsukistofu]

prickle me pink

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ k. bakugo x fem reader. fluff. ⭑ katsuki finds himself taking care of the cactus you gifted him against his better judgement.

It’s in the little things he does.

The sticky notes he leaves for you in the bento box he “accidentally” made an extra of and gives to you because he “ain’t wasting perfectly good food,” telling you to drink your damn water and that he’s proud of you, or that you look cute today.

Your favorite snack and a juicebox on your desk in the morning before the bell rings, which you swear you’ve only mentioned liking once and it was when you first met.

Whenever he fusses over your jacket when it’s cold outside and insists you hold hands with him, saying it’s “more work for him if you get sick.” Yet the way he takes off his scarf to wrap you up in its warmth is devastatingly gentle, despite his coarse scoldings.

Homemade chocolates shoved into your hands the moment you arrive at school every single White Day without fail, ignoring the stares from envious onlookers as he tugs you by the hand to walk you to class. The bandaids, only the cute character ones because you’re a stubborn brat who won’t wear anything else no matter how bad you get hurt, and ointment he keeps in his school bag.

Because he knows how accident prone you can be and it drives him insane whenever he sees a new scratch or bruise come from out of nowhere when you were fine moments ago.

Katsuki’s always been meticulous about everything in his life, and that includes loving you.

So the confusion on his face is almost humorously palpable as he squints at the cactus you randomly place in front of him in class one day.

“What is this?” Your boyfriend grumbles, holding his notebooks and pencil case in his hands. “Taking up space on my desk.”

“Suki!” You pout. “That’s mean. I bought this cactus.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Because…?”

“‘Cause it reminds me of you!”

The fuck does that even mean, it reminds you of him? This short, misshapen, stubby little thing that needed to be buried in dirt to even stand up on its own? Katsuki snorts, his amusement only growing at the sight of your deepening worried frown.

As if he would ever throw away anything from you. He’d rather take one of his own explosions to the face.

“Thanks, I guess.” Is all he says, his hand coming down to give a strong pat to your head. It was kind of ugly, but whatever. Hell, it was a gift from you that you specifically got for him, and honestly that’s all that mattered. “I’ll take care of it.”

You beam up at him from under his palm, and his heart clenches. “Really?”

“Yeah. Now go sit your ass down and take out that homework I know you forgot to do last night.”

“Yessir!” You mock salute and hurry over to your seat, opening up your shoulder bag.

Denki grimaces as he passes by, pointing at the new green addition to the blond boy’s desk. “Ew Bakugo, what is that?”

“Shut up, Dunce Face.” Katsuki scowls, protectively moving the pot closer to him. “Your eyes are getting shittier than Glasses’.”

Mina laughs as Denki sulks, now in his own seat, and glances over to where he was pointing at. “Ooh, it’s actually pretty cute!”

“Damn right it is.”

Katsuki’s lips curve slightly in pride, crimson eyes flickering over to your direction where you were hunched over scribbling on paper with scrunched up eyebrows, trying to do some problems on your own while you wait for him to come over. Fuck, you’re cute, he thinks.

“That’s ‘cause my girl picked it.”

After class, Katsuki finds himself googling “how to not kill a cactus” for the first time in his life and of course it’s because of you.

His brow raises as he scans the gardening article on his phone screen.

He’s no green thumb but he’s had some experience and it was pretty easy to keep a plant alive, but just to make sure. Half of it is information he already knows, put your cactus in a good spot to get sunlight, water it once a week, yada yada.

But what catches his eye is the section labeled “Flowering Cacti.”

So they could bloom depending on the species, and only under very nit-picky conditions, like cool to warm temperature fluctuations and specific pollinators. Interesting.

Hopefully he wouldn’t have to wrangle a bat to get some flowers to grow on it, though he could probably ask that animal-talking extra to help.

“Katsuki!” Something tackles him from behind and he barely budges, already knowing it’s you. It’s muscle memory at this point, the feeling of your soft body against his, etched into the molecules of his skin from all those times you’d sneak into his dorm past curfew to cuddle and how you always fell asleep on him during class field trips, not to mention plane rides.

You peer over his broad shoulder like a hamster peeking out of their hidey hole. “What are you looking at?”

“Nosy.” Katsuki snorts, holding up his phone to your face. Deliberately only showing the guide on how to care for cacti indoors, and not the flowering one. He doesn’t want you to see it, not yet.

─────────

You’re in your boyfriend’s dorm room several days later, finally finishing the last problem on the new sheet of homework you got from Ectoplasm’s class. Bakugo hovers over you to scan your equations, finally giving a satisfied nod.

A jolt of pride courses through him. You got all of them right, just like how he taught you.

“Good job.” Katsuki pats your head and your heart soars. You tilt your head up to give a little smooch to his palm and he blushes, jerking his hand back.

“The fuck?” He laughs, grabbing your wrist and pinning it to his mouth in retaliation, pressing a painstakingly soft kiss there, then to your palm too. Katsuki smirks at the way he makes you shakily exhale at his touch. “What was that for?”

“Nothing.” An almost drowsy, content smile spreads across your lips. “Just love you so much.”

"Stop trying to one up me,” Katsuki rasps in your ear. You yelp as his hands squeeze your hips hard, holding onto his toned arms to steady yourself.

“Not trying to! Just telling the truth.” You keep looking at him with a cute, dumb grin on your face, and his breath catches.

Your eyes widen as you sneak a glance at his desk.

“Woah! Katsuki Jr. got taller.”

He snorts, turning his head to also look at the cactus that’s been sitting under his lamp for the past week. “Katsuki Jr.?”

“Yeah because you guys have the same hair.” You exaggerate a dreamy sigh, reaching up to caress his cheek. “He really takes after you, Katsuki Sr.”

“Shut up, dumbass.” He nudges your cheek with his nose, drinking up the delicious sounds of your giggles.

“Can I sit in your lap now?” You ask shyly.

With an eye roll, Katsuki holds his arms out for you to claim the reward he proposed earlier for this study session. “Get over here already.”

His arms wrap comfortably around your waist as you settle in your usual spot between his firm thighs, and he drops his head down and brushes a soft kiss against the crook of your neck.

“I love you too.” The pink blossoming across his cheeks contradicts his gruff tone, but you’ve known him too long to not know better.

Katsuki Bakugo is meticulous in loving you, and that means he never says anything he doesn't mean.

─────────

The vibrations in the pocket of his slacks are becoming so incessant that he can’t ignore them anymore and Katsuki sighs under his breath as he slips it out while Aizawa’s turned to the board to write something.

ass gremlin

sukiiiii

ass gremlin

katsudonnnnn

ass gremlin

kitkattttt

katsu curry

What

ass gremlin

send me pics of our baby pls i wanna see how tall he is now

katsu curry

?

That cactus you bought me two weeks ago

ass gremlin

duh!!!

katsu curry

Later

In my room before we go out

ass gremlin

YAYYAYAY

can u help me pick my outfit too

katsu curry

Duh

We’re matching dumbass

Katsuki’s behind you with a firm hand on your waist to hold you in place when you smirk at the window sill, and he looks up to see that you’re admiring Katsuki Jr.

The cactus was an even more vibrant shade of green than when you first gave it to him, and small, delicate pink flowers were starting to bloom on its fuzzy head.

It took a lot of effort to get those to start growing, but it was all worth it to see the delighted expression on your face right now.

“So you really have been taking care of him like he’s your kid, huh?”

“Our kid.” He corrects you with a grumble against your neck, easily zipping up the back of your dress in one smooth motion. “Told you I would, didn't I? Thing was a pain in the ass to find high potassium fertilizer for.

“Aw, really?” You turn around to face him and he brings you closer as your arms rest on his broad shoulders. “Well… you know how it’s better to have two cats than one, since just one kitty can make them feel lonely?”

He knows that look. Katsuki scowls, roughly poking a dent into your cheek to discourage the mischievous grin that's starting to spread across your face.

“You’ll never guess what I got you for our anniversary.”

“No.”

“But Katsuki Jr.!”

“I raised that little shit, he’ll tough it out.”

“I just thought maybe we could get him a sibling—“

“No.”

ur contact name is ass gremlin bc u have bad habit of smacking his butt when he walks by lol

[vonlycaonwife]

May I please have a smexy von lycoan x maid!reader, (fem please) where the new maid is a clutz and gets on Von's nerves on accident. and then one day he loses his composure and decides to 'punish' her and maybe teach her a lesson about proper serving etiquette. please scenario, i would like to hear your thoughts. ;)

I know who you are you sonuva- ANYWAY yeah I can do that.....lord help me

Female reader! Also very ooc!

Warnings: Smut, breeding, face fucking, knotting, dubious consent, unbalanced power dynamics (boss/worker like), severely ooc, partially written before game release

He has just about had it.

A few months ago the agency had just hired a new employee, one that Lycaon had to supervise. She seemed very sweet and excited to do her job, something he enjoyed seeing since those at Victoria Housekeeping Co. must have a good head on their shoulders to do their job.

But then it turned out she was even more of a clutz than Corin, something that's baffled almost everyone.

An often occurrence would be her cleaning something to perfection, only to end up breaking said thing. Another would be her always burning whatever it was she was baking, or adding too much of something. Even during hollow raids she and others end up getting hurt by her own weapon rather than by ethereal. Mainly the only thing she can do is serve tea and even that's a fifty-fifty on if she'll drop the cup in your lap or not. It was astounding how many things went wrong when she was near, though she was always apologetic over every mess up.

And today Lycaon had to scold her once again over the continuous trip ups, though he has not done that yet since the woman was late for their meeting again. 

It was bad enough for him that he had to deal with his own body that was determined to start a rut, but combine that with the fact that the woman that irritated him to no end also had a scent that drove him mad. He usually had better control over himself, but every time something happened that involved her he would have to steel his nerves or otherwise he would go into a full rut. It annoyed him to no end. Though he supposed it was why he was harsher on her than he was on anyone else, as much as he hated to admit. Others had brought it up to him about his behavior, but he would rather be harsher than act like a feral dog. 

"You're late." He huffed once he heard the door open, he turned his eyes to meet the doe like ones of the woman. He held back a growl as her scent entered his nose, quickly placing his hands onto the desk to keep himself from tearing into his uniform. She flinched at his tone, brows pinched in anxiety.

"I'm sorry, I was trying to run here to be on time and...I bumped into someone and caused another mess. I cleaned it up though! So it's no worries!" She reassured, waving her hands around in an attempt to placate his wrath. She tried to smile even when the atmosphere began to grow cold, something that irritated the man even more.

"Another one? How many has that been today?" He asked angrily, his claws just barely scratching into the wood of his desk. Her scent was driving him mad, he had to keep his mind off of it by directing his growing frustrations onto her. 

The woman flinched again, fear rising within her. While she was used to being scolded, this kind of anger aimed towards her was new and frightening. At most the wolf was only ever annoyed or frustrated, but now she felt like she was about to be eaten alive.

"It seems you need another lesson." He said, suddenly calm. At least what she thought was calm, but at meeting his eyes once again all she could see was unbridled anger. Along with something else she couldn't discern. As he stood she froze in place, her hands gripping onto her skirt tightly her knuckles almost turned white. The two kept eye contact as the large man walked his way around his desk, ignoring the claw marks, before standing directly in front of the woman. "We've had this conversation so many times, but it seems you're not getting it.”

"I-I'm sorry Sir! I'll do better, I promise!” She begged, straining her neck to look up at him. While she wasn't that short, she always had a hard time not cramping her neck whenever she had to look at Lycaon. She shivered under his gaze, steeling her nerves so she wouldn't step back in fear. While she is able to handle most things, right now it almost felt like she was prey staring into the face of a predator. “Really I will.”

“You say that…” He started, before suddenly growling with a ferocity that terrified her. She suddenly backed up, her mind running over what options she had, before her back ran into the door behind her. She quickly turned around, her flight instincts blaring danger in her head, attempting to open the door before she felt hands slam onto the surface beside her. Frozen in place she could only be aware of her thoughts screaming at her to run, before it all stopped when she felt his breath hit her neck. “And yet you never seem to improve.”

Lycaon can only berate himself as his own body had seemed to be taken over by his instincts. Just the sight of her looking up at him with her wide eyes had made him mad, he couldn't stop himself from wanting to be closer to her. Her scent was overriding his sense of smell, the feel of her shaking in fear under him was embarrassingly delicious. He didn't think of himself to be cruel, and yet he relished in her fear. His hands were shaking against the door, claws scratching at the surface while he barely tried to reign in himself.

“Do you even know how much you irritate me? How annoying it is to have to have these talks with you every damn week?” He growled out, his nose brushing against her hair as he spoke. His claws dug deeper into the wooden surface as he tried to keep himself from touching her with them. He knew if he did that he couldn't go back, he wouldn't be able to hold himself together like he barely is at this moment. His sharp ears heard her gasp as the sound of wood splitting rang out. “Do you even know how hard it is to keep myself contained with that smell of yours?”

“I-”

“Shut up.” He brushed his teeth against the skin of her neck, groaning as he heard her whimper in fear. But what also caught his attention was that her scent somehow became even more potent, making him realize something. He slowly released his hands from the wooden surface, giving them a quick glance for any potential splinters, before dropping to his knees. His hands lifted up her skirt, releasing an enormous wave of her scent. He quickly moved his face closer to her, his nose brushing against her core.

“S-Sir!” She yelped, her hands moving to try and move him away before he could realize. But she stopped when he heard him growl, ordering her to stay in place. Understanding he figured out how she was suddenly turned on by the sudden turn of events, she obeyed his order. She stared at the patterns of the wood, trying to keep her mind off the fact that her superior was suddenly sniffing her like a horny animal. Not that she minded too much, as she had developed a small crush on him since gaining her job at the company. 

“Lesson one, speak when spoken to.” He said, his hands gently caressing her thighs as he nudged them to spread apart.

“B-But-”

“Quiet.” He ordered, before pressing his nose against her once more. He could feel his entire body shiver as the woman's scent flooded his senses. His ears could pick up the noises she tried to repress, causing him to huff in amusement. He used one hand to move the thin fabric that separated him from her bare skin aside, making it possible to place his long tongue along her folds.

“Ah! S-Sir wait-”

“I said, be quiet.” He grunted, adding a growl to emphasize his order. He felt her freeze from his tone as he swiped his tongue over her once more. The taste that spread on his tongue was like heaven to him, completely making him forget the world around him as he pushed his face deeper to taste more.

As his tongue entered her, her hands quickly flew to cover her mouth to prevent any noises from escaping. Her forehead leaned against the door as she tried to even out her breathing, her legs began to shake as she felt his tongue reach deeper. She could feel his hands gripping tighten as a way to keep her still, his claws digging into her skin in a way that brought no pain to her. 

Soon she began to feel that familiar coil within her tighten, causing her to grip onto her face harden. She could feel his tongue quicken its pace as her walls constricted, her whole body shook as she felt that coil ready to burst. Only to be met with a sudden emptiness causing her to quickly turn her head around to see him stand up. She wanted to ask why he stopped, before she suddenly was lifted into the air. Squealing at the movement, she wiggled in his grip before she found herself placed onto one of the plush chairs. After blinking a bit to understand what had happened, she looked up to see his piercing red eye staring down back at her.

“Lesson two, all employees must fulfill their tasks with perfect proficiency.” Lycaon barely spoke, adjusting his belt before pushing down his slacks to reveal his hardening member. Her eyes widened in surprise as she took in his size, her thighs squeezing together in both mild fear and anticipation. Wordlessly she adjusted herself in the seat and hesitantly wrapped one hand around him, slowly moving it along the shaft. She closed her eyes in embarrassment, but a gentle began to pet her head, making her meet his eyes once more. “Just relax.”

His voice was very gentle, putting her in a shock before she could realize he removed her hand and pressed the head of his cock against her slightly parted lips. She almost jumped at the contact before that hand gripped her hair to keep her in place. The low growl he released was the only warning he would give her. Shivering she widened her opened mouth and slowly gave small licks, earning a hum in approval. Soon she leaned forward, bringing the head into her mouth and sucking. Her hands were gripping onto the skirt of her uniform, knuckles turning white as she tried her best to keep her mouth wide enough to accommodate his size. 

Quickly the thirian took charge and began to move his hips slowly, pushing his length further and further down her throat. As time went on his pace became rougher and faster, causing tears to start welling in her eyes. But she made no complaint, only kept her eyes shut as she focused on breathing through her nose. Embarrassingly she could feel the spot on the cushion seat below her become damp, making her whine against him. Though she could barely hear herself over the growls the man was releasing. Soon she could feel him pulsate against her tongue, but before he could cum, he released himself from her mouth. 

Before she could question anything, she suddenly felt him grab her by the waist and all but slam her onto the desk. But nothing happened, he only stared into her eyes. It’s as if he was hesitant to do anything else, his claws gripping onto with the same intensity as earlier. The two stayed in their fixed position before one finally spoke.

“Do you want this?” The words barely came out of the thirian, more so only able to leave past his lips with his pants.

“W-What?”

“I’m asking if you truly want this, because if this goes further then we can’t go back.” He slowly explains, like he was in a daze.

“Oh…” She blinks, her muddled brain struggling to fully comprehend what he was saying. But once it settled itself within her thoughts did all the muddiness completely disappear. “O-Oh! Y-Yeah I am! I’ve uh…”

Her face flushes as she attempts to get her thoughts in order. “I’ve already…had some feelings for you so…if you don’t-eep!”

His lips slam onto hers, interrupting her words. She lets out a surprised squeal, tensing in his grip, before relaxing and wrapping her arms around his neck. She moaned as his tongue explored her mouth, swallowing her noises as he reached one hand to rub circles around her clit. Soon she felt the tip of his cock nudge at her entrance, causing her to tense once more.

“Relax.” She could barely hear him say as he slowly thrust himself inside. Her insides almost felt like they were on fire from the sheer intense heat of his length. When he finally completely filled her, tears were running down her face as she tried not to move and adjust. Lycaon trailed soft kisses all over her face as he waited for her to give the go ahead. Soon she began to relax, leaning her head against his shoulder.

Reading her body languages, Lycaon began to move his hips at a slow pace. He closed his eyes as he concentrated on not losing control, the way he could only smell her scent and the fact it was all over him made him almost go insane. The one hand still holding onto the desk tightened around the wood, close to splinting it like what he did with the wall earlier. He had moved his other hand to her clothed waist, keeping her in place as soon began to speed up. Her whines rang out of the room, adding fuel to the fire of his loosening restraint.

As he focused on controlling his instincts, he somehow didn’t notice her fingers settling into the fur at the back of his neck. She gave it a quick pull, not too harsh to pull out any fur, making him groan in pain. He opened his eyes to meet her own, glaring down at her intensely. He leaned down, growling out harsh words of disapproval. But the lustful gleam he saw in her eyes and her whiny begging was what finally drove him to let go. Slamming his hips against hers with wild abandonment, his teeth gently biting at the exposed skin of her neck while his hands grabbed onto her legs to move them on top of his shoulders. 

He was taking it all in, the sound of her moans and high pitch screams, the taste of her sweat and tears on his tongue, and the smell of their scents mingling together along with the growing smell of sex. He even could hear his own groans and growls, though his focus moved quickly to the feeling of his swelling knot enlarging. His instincts were urging him to push it in right this instant, but he had some restraint left to wait. 

Meanwhile she was overwhelmed by his rough pace, tears flowing down her face as she was slammed with wave after wave of pleasure. She could barely think, her mind only focused on the feeling of him filling her to the brim. But soon she could feel that familiar coil within her, tightening at such an alarming rate. Her voice began to break as it reached a higher pitch than her vocal cords were able to handle, her hands clutching onto his fur in search of anything to stabilize herself. She tried to let any words out, but was once more interrupted by him kissing her. She could only moan into his mouth as she felt something bigger push into her. Her eyes widened in shock as his knot was thrusted in, her body tensing and squirming as the rush of pleasure flooded her veins once more. Released from the kiss, she could only whine as her insides were filled with his hot seed.

“Wait.” He said, gently keeping her in place as she squirmed. “Give it a few minutes.”

She nodded in response, having no energy for words. He chuckled at that, amused at her state. Once he was able to remove himself, he shushed her as she whined from the loss. She could feel her eyelids growing heavy, as her body finally relaxed after everything. She barely felt him move her to sit back in the chair she had stained, hearing him whisper about returning with cleaning rags and other necessary items. She wasn't able to respond before sleep finally overtook her.

She wasn't able to see the soft he gave her, nor did she even realize he had kissed her forehead. He quickly made himself suitable again before quietly leaving through the door, locking it to make sure no one would walk in on the mess he had to clean up. Though he's sure he would walk into an even bigger mess once the woman wakes up and tries to clean. But he isn't too upset about that fact now.

Since it just means he has an opportunity to teach her another “lesson.”