#gargoyle x reader

[angelltheninth]

Gargoyle Boyfriend Gets Rough As the Sun Comes Up

Pairing: Male!Gargoyle x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, size difference, desperation, kissing, mating press, wings, claws

A/N: I mentioned Gargoyles once in a conversation and now... now we're here. It doesn't take much with me.

"There's not a lot of time, my love." He grunted above you, claws tearing into your bed, hard cock hammering at your insides and a thick flow of cum dripping down your ass. "I need you to come for me." The bed shook with the force of his thrusts, and so did you, his tail being the only thing keeping you still.

If your legs weren't pushed up over his shoulders you could have wrapped them around his hips like you normally did. But he wasn't letting you bring them down. At this angle he could get his cock all the way in your wet pussy. He's looking at your face, twisted in pleasure, almost drowning in it. Well you weren't far off.

"You already came. Ah-! Shouldn't you... get going. The Sun is almost up." He snarled, eyes flashing at your words. His fat tip rammed itself deep against your cervix, making your eyes roll back into your skull, nails scratching into his hard skin.

"And leave you unsatisfied? You think I would treat my mate this way?" It was insulting to him. "I would never." Wings fanned out behind him, the sharp edges leaving marks on your celling, the scratching noises mixing with growls, moans and soft flesh meeting hard stone. "No. You will come for me. You will show me that face again, you will- fucking come!" His growly voice shook you to your core, "Yes. That's my good mate. Can you feel my cock splitting you open? Can you feel me deep in your human cunt?"

You wrapped your arms around his thick neck, feeling his sharp fangs dig into your bottom lip before you kissed properly. Pleasure rocked through you, his hips slowing down, not wanting to pull out yet, wanting to spare every second he could with his cock in you, your pussy walls warm and twitching around his girth.

"I wish you could stay all day." You felt him pulling away when the tension in your body ebbed away.

"Hard stone wouldn't feel as good." That almost sounded like a challenge and you grinned up at him. "I don't know what you're thinking but I advise against it."

Wiggling your hips you heard him take a sharp breath, cock stirring, "You don't even know what I wanted to do. You need to let me have fun too." You could just imagine his face if he woke up and saw you already on his cock, how quickly he would slam you against the cold tiles and take you right then and there.

"Stop this. At this rate I'll go hard in more ways then one." That would surely a noticeable change. "You'll have to wait until tonight." His hand cupped the entire side of your face, his skin cold on yours but still comforting. His touch lingered as he pulled away, as did the now empty feeling in your pussy.

You watched as he stretched his wings and his arms, pulling his on the little clothes he wore to cover his cock. The bulge was noticeable from this angle but once he was in his siting position it wouldn't be. Unless... you ran two fingers over your pussy, gathering the thick, white, creamy seed and bringing it to your lips.

"Fuck." His teeth clenched tight, cock bulge twitching, growing in size. "I... I need to take my post!" He was nearly always the one teasing you. These were small victories. But hey, as a human woman dating a big, strong gargoyle of the night, you needed these small victories.

[deunmiu-dessie]

sacraficial lamb!reader who lies strapped to an altar just outside of the village's small abandoned cathedral. sacraficial lamb!reader who struggles against the binds that dig into their flesh painfully, securing them to the concrete. sacraficial lamb!reader who sobs heavily, eyes finding their father's within the minor crowd that has formed around them. "f-father please don't leave me here! please, help me!". sacraficial lamb!reader who watches in horror and disbelief as their father turns away, hugging your brother close. sacraficial lamb!reader who mewls in fear as the village head burns some type of sage over them, drawing symbols on their forehead. sacraficial lamb!reader who begs and pleads as the crowd disperses to their homes, locking their doors and covering their windows. sacraficial lamb!reader who looks toward the stone gargoyle crouching menacingly atop the cathedral. sacraficial lamb!reader who starts to pray.

gargoyle!monster who comes alive in the night, stone crumbling from its body to crash onto the ground below. gargoyle!monster whose wings stretch and span wide, catching the moon's glow and painting them sinisterly. gargoyle!monster whose eyes narrow in on the small, shaking human sacrifice upon the altar hungrily. gargoyle!monster who ominously slithers down from its perch on the cathedral, blending into the night. gargoyle!monster who sneakily finds perch on the end of your altar, head tilted at how tightly you keep your eyes shut, murmurs of scripture falling from your lips. gargoyle!monster whose chuckle is dark and grating, inhumane. gargoyle!monster who takes pleasure in how your body coils tight and your lips wobble as his clawed fingers skitter down your bare legs. gargoyle!monster whose long tongue disappears beneath your gown, caressing your inner thighs; leaving them slick with viscous saliva. "i shall enjoy your body, little human, before devouring you."

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

[theres-a-body-here]

I didn't fucking know Gargoyles were an actual fleshy creature. Like I deadass thought they were the Living Armor equivalent of statues.

You feel a tap on your shoulder just as you bring the martini glass to your lips. You turn to glance over at the person.

It's an Elf.

"My friend over there.... thinks you're cute," he slurs, a bit tipsy as he sways on his feet. He points over his shoulder with his thumb.

You follow his thumb with your eyes.

The friend, perched on the bar counter:

[monster-disaster]

Request for a Grotesque? (Gargoyle is the popular name, but not the correct name).

It’s been a long time since I’ve read a lot of your stories, so please forgive me if I’m repetitive with plots you’ve already done.

Can you make him have DILF energy? Not an actual man with kids or an ex, just a man who’s good with kids, and is on the older side of course. I’m in desperate need of a very affectionate and gentle lover who just wants to overwhelmingly dote and take care of his future wifey. Is being someone’s baby girl too much to ask? T^T I can’t really handle super dominant and aggressive lover types. Like being ridiculously sweet, indulgent, intelligent, and manipulative is such a better archetype to get the girl. Bro don’t hit me in the bedroom. I’m delicate and bruise super easily.

Male x Female reader, if that’s not too much to ask :)

Thanks love!

Gods, I really need a boyfriend like that right now. I hope you will like it! :)

gargoyle/grotesque x Reader Warnings: smut

There is a slight pain at the back of your head. It throbs in sync with your pulse, making you scowl at the screen. The document stares back at you with bright, white lights. The long rows of black text become blurry for a second, and you need to close your eyes to stop yourself from tearing up. "Did you drink enough water?"

The sudden voice makes you jump with a startled gasp. In the process, you push yourself away from your desk, and you need to grab onto the wooden edge. Your eyes snap open, staring at the entrance of your office. "Garog," you say his name, watching him approach you. He is still in his work clothes with a paper bag in his hand. The scent of your favorite takeout fills your nostrils when he puts it on the table in favor of focusing on you. "Did you drink enough water?" He asks again, slipping his thick fingers to the back of your neck, drawing small circles on your tense muscles. A relieved breath leaves your lips at the feeling. You hum. "You can't solve everything with water," you tell him. Garog chuckles, reaching into the bag to put a bottle of water in front of you. "Are you sure about it?" "Thank you," you reply, reaching out for the bottle. You know the gargoyle won't leave you alone until you drink at least a few sips. He massages your neck and shoulders the whole time while you do so. "And eat too," he says after a while, stepping away to grab a chair and put it next to you. The thing creaks under his weight. "It's still warm." "I thought you were at home," you tell him while he is busy with the plastic containers. He shrugs. "I was," he says. "Then I called you twice, and when you didn't answer, I thought you had a rough day." "Did you call?" You ask, wanting to reach for your phone, but Gargog stops you with a gentle smile. "I'm sorry." "It's fine, love," he says. "As I said, I knew you had a busy day." Silence settles between you two while you openly stare at him. He is broad with sharp edges and gray sideburns. His nose is crooked, and you can barely see the color of his eyes when he smiles at you. The grayish shade of his skin seems lighter under the office lights. "Do you need anything else?" He asks. "No," you reply, a bit dreamily. "Sometimes I just forget how lucky I am." He grins at you before leaning down to kiss your lips. It's short and chaste. "I am the lucky one."

You could argue with him but decide against it.

For a while, both of you say nothing and just enjoy the calmness of your office while eating. Every bite and sip of water reminds you that eating and drinking weren't in your priorities today.

You glance at Garog from the corner of your eye. Damn, you really are lucky.

"I can throw them out," you tell Garog after your late dinner when he stands up to clean up your desk. "I want to make some coffee anyway." He frowns at you. "You shouldn't drink coffee this late." With a tired sigh, you lean back on your chair, massaging the side of your head in circles. "You still hurt, huh?" He asks, coming back to your side to rake his fingers through your hair. Your eyes fall shut immediately. "It will be fine," you tell him. "It's not that bad anymore, thanks to you." "My poor baby," he coos, and you laugh at his tone. "But lucky you, I know how we can get rid of it." "Water? Sleep?" You guess, still enjoying his caresses with closed eyes. "Those too," Garog agrees with something in his voice that makes you look up at him. He towers over you with wide shoulders and his wings that peek out from behind him. Your fingertips tingle with the urge to touch them. "But later. Now, I have something else in my mind." You know the heated glint in his eyes too well. He doesn't even have to say or do anything, and your body reacts immediately. "Here?" You ask him, shocked. "What if someone comes in?" You glance at the closed door a few meters away. Garog scoffs at your worry, pulling on your chair to separate you from your desk. "Nobody is here anymore, Y/N," he replies. "You are the only one still working." "Oh." He is right. "Do you trust me?" You almost frown, hearing his question. "Of course." "Then let me have my dessert, love." Something warm and giddy lits in your stomach as you laugh. "It was horrible." "It was not," he grins, getting rid of your pants and panties with one swift motion. "Are you really laughing at me?" He asks, amused. "No," you lie. "At least not for long," Garog grins at you wolfishly, settling on his knees between your legs. Whatever you wanted to say a few moments ago is long forgotten.

His hands are firm but gentle on your legs as he slides them up to your inner thighs, opening you up even more in front of his hungry eyes. "You are already wet," he states, running his thumb over your pussy, gathering your slickness on the tip of his finger. Your stomach flutters with excitement and anticipation. The muscles of your thighs almost hurt in the wide spread you keep them to give enough space for the gargoyle. "Garog," you breath out his name, impatient.

Your hectic day and the bright light of your laptop are forgotten. The only thing that still exists in your world right now is Garog, kneeling and leaning closer to your center. His breath fans over your slit, making you clench around nothing. And you don't have to wait for long to feel his tongue swipe over your wetness. "Fuck!" You groan, letting your head fall against the headrest of your chair. Your nails dig into the leather. He grunts something you don't understand, but to be honest, you don't even care. The rumble of his words surges through your body, searing over your nerves and veins. Your back arches when his tongue runs along your slit, flicking your clit repeatedly until you are a panting mess. Your fingers rake through his hair, keeping him against your pussy. "Oh!" Garog's lips close around your clit, sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth with fever. You feel like a raw nerve, ready to burst. "Don't!' You cry, tightening your hold on his hair when he moves lower to bully your aching hole. "Please!" He hums again in answer, smiling into your pussy for a moment before returning to your clit. Electricity pumps your blood down to your center, and you writhe under him while pleasure builds in your belly. "There!" You mewl into the quiet office, filled with your moans. "Please! Garog!" His tongue rolls around your clit, taking it into his mouth again for a few last sucks to chase you to your orgasm. Your body trembles and shakes. Your hips twitch and push against his warm mouth while he drinks up your juices, humming and groaning with satisfaction. Waves of ecstasy crash through you, and white-hot circles dance in front of your closed eyes. "My girl," Garog hums, petting your thighs. His palms are warm on your skin, massaging your flesh and bringing you back to real life. "Take your time."

When you finally calm down after a few minutes, you feel tired but happy. Your eyelids are heavy, and Garog can't help but smile at your slugged form. "Can you come home with me?" He asks softly, glancing at your laptop. "And maybe we could stay at home tomorrow?" You hum, nodding. "But I need my laptop." "Of course, love," he says. "I put everything away while you get dressed." "I love you," you tell him, and he smiles.

[jellys-compendium]

Comforting Monster Stories for the Weary Heart

Part 1 - The Gargoyle

Pairing: Monster x/& GN!Reader Relationship (can be interpreted as either platonic or romantic) Cw: Brief/implied feelings of solitude and isolation with some fluff at the end Word Count: ~500 A/n: Who doesn't love gargoyles, right? This little project will be my first attempt at some original writing featuring some cozy short stories that focus on monster x/& human relationships. The relationships in each story can be interpreted as either romantic or platonic in nature. Hope you enjoy them!

The clack of your footsteps is the only sound that echoes across the ancient cobblestones as you make your way home. You listen as the sounds are swallowed into the black unknown beyond the streetlights that illuminate your path. It is quiet tonight, the silence somewhat eerie, but you are not afraid. You are protected and nothing or no one can harm you. 

Your nightly journey home alone in the dark used to frighten you. Your entire life you only had yourself to rely on, and if you went missing—swept silently away in the clutches of a monster—would anyone even notice? Would anyone care? 

Pondering the answer to that question has always hastened your steps each and every night, but tonight as you approach the massive and imposing cathedral at the centre of the city, you feel a comforting warmth spread from your heart all the way to the tips of your fingers.

You used to be all alone, but not anymore. Not since that fateful night when you encountered a creature who was just as lonely as you were.

‘Gargoyles, ugly as they may be, are protectors.’ One of the nuns once told you. ‘Under their watchful eyes, you are safe.’

How right she was, although perhaps the well intentioned sister had not meant her consoling words to be taken literally.

Slowing your pace, you gaze up at the gargoyles. Most are arched and snarling, keeping evil at bay with their exposed fangs and claws. They are a majesty to look upon, perched on their stone pedestals. The artistry behind their creation leaves you breathless every time you bear witness to them. Not a single gargoyle is a copy of the other and each is unique in their own way. Just like human beings.

Eventually your gaze comes upon one of the central pedestals. It is vacant and a smile spreads across your lips. 

He’s awake.

And no sooner do those words cross your mind do you feel a shift in the cool autumn night breeze. A gust of wind blows across the manmade path, whistling through the stone archways and singing through the branches of the nearby trees. 

A large shadow passes overhead, shrouded by the moonless sky yet still distinguishable enough for you to discern the enormous breadth of his wings. As quietly as his massive form allows, the gargoyle lands close to you, just outside the reach of light.

He calls your name, his voice like the scraping of stone, rough and earthy. It’s strangely soothing. It sounds like the whisper of old parables told by the fire, now long forgotten. Or like the rumbling of thunder on a hot summer night. It sounds like…home.

“You’re here,” You smile, heart thrumming excitedly as you walk into the shadows to join him. It’s too dark to see him completely, but the orange glow of his inhuman gaze guides you into his embrace. Before long you’ve wrapped your arms around him in a warm hug and his sharp claws wrap gently around you in kind.

“I'll always be where you are.”

He squeezes you tight, nuzzling against you and holding you like you matter--like you always mattered despite everything that you've endured.

Your eyes burn at the gesture and you squeeze him back, wanting your gargoyle to know that you're here for him too, that he has and always will have at least one friend in this city full of strangers.

"You are not alone."

His words, so tender and kind, are the soothing balm your soul needed. Your hands, chilled by the night breeze and his cold skin, caress his cracked and bumpy skin, eagerly reciprocating the kindness and care he had showed you.

"Neither are you."

dividers by @/saradika

[shybunny]

Would it be too much to ask for a gargoyle story? Like maybe a gargoyle waking up after a long sleep and about to blow. Kinda like a werewolf in heat I guess. All consensual of course. 😳👉👈

🔞 this post contains erotic writing intended for adults. do not interact with this post if you are a minor/under eighteen

😚 gargoyle, size kink, handjob, yearning, begging, lots of cum 😗 slight dubcon (sorry, just at first)

You work at a curiosities museum, and there’s a small hall filled with all kinds of unusual statues. Some of them are broken in interesting ways, some of them are comically ugly, and some of them are just plain weird. You suppose your favorite is one of the weird ones, because it’s not broken, and it’s certainly not ugly. It’s a beautiful body in repose: a man lying on his back, propped up slightly on his elbows, with big long limbs and well-defined muscles sculpted in lush detail. But there’s also the ferocious claws, the leathery wings emerging on either side, the curling horns and snarling fangs, making him into a sort of gargoyle. And the crowning jewel of the piece, sticking straight up from between his legs, is his enormous erect cock. The thick shaft is carved with an intricate network of veins, and there’s even a little bead of precum, frozen in place as it slides off the finely-contoured tip.

Would you sound crazy if you said you were a little in love with this statue? And it’s not just because of the impressive equipment. He’s just so handsome, with his powerful body and his ferocious, animalistic features. And there’s something endearing, almost vulnerable about the position he’s carved into, as if watching a lover crawl on top of him. You’ve spent an embarrassing number of hours fantasizing about him coming to life and carrying you away from this place.

You’re not his only fan, either. He’s quite popular among the visitors, for obvious reasons, always eliciting rowdy laughter and lewd exclamations. No one is supposed to touch the artwork, but some people just can’t suppress the impulse to stroke the long thick shaft. You’ve actually had to stop multiple people from putting their mouth around the plump tip while their friend takes a photo. You take a cruel kind of pleasure in exercising your authority during these moments. It’s so stupid, but… it always makes you jealous when other people try to touch him. He belongs to you. Or to the museum, anyway.

You’re working late one night, dusting off the statues. When you get to your gargoyle, you suppress a little giggle as you brush the duster over the tip of his penis. You suppose there is something a little funny about it… But the humor quickly gives way to the familiar yearning and jealousy. You run your fingertip from the plump head all the way down to the defined seam of his heavy testicals. You keep stroking, adding in more fingers, gazing with longing at his expressive face and groaning under your breath. Before you know it you have your fist in a tight circle around his cock, stroking the whole length up and down, feeling yourself get wet as you jerk him off. How could you let anyone else put their hands on him? You have to claim him for yourself.

You pull your pants down around your ankles so you can step out of them. Then you climb on top of him. If anyone caught you doing this, you would be in so much trouble, but the security camera coverage isn’t very good in this room, and you know you won’t be seen. You press your wet cunt against the tip, and then slowly impale yourself on his cock. It goes in so easily… You’re so wet for him. You peer down hungrily at him, running your hands all over his hard chest while you slide up and down on his cock. His erection feels more… pliant than you would have expected. You bounce on it easily, feeling the thick length of him stroking your insides. Your eyes slide shut as you try to pretend that he’s alive, that he wants you, that instead of lying inert and frozen, his hands are all over your body. You can actually feel them, warm and rough, sliding onto your hips, the long claws pressing into your skin. Are you going insane? Your eyes fly open.

Somehow he’s come to life beneath you: pawing at your hips, chest heaving beneath your hands, his eyes locked with yours. You have no idea what to do. Your frantic movements slow to a stop.

“No please,” he begs, “please don’t stop. I’ve been like this for so long, please, fuck, I need to cum.”

He grips your hips in his huge rough hands and starts to buck his hips, bouncing you up and down on his cock. You have got to be dreaming. Or hallucinating. He’s taking you so roughly, hitting so deep and hard inside you. You start to cum around his cock but you don’t think he even notices, he’s so focused on his own release.

“Please,” he’s still begging, “please, I need to cum— need to cum in your pussy— I'm so— oh fuck—”

He throws his head back, his large body going taught beneath yours, and you can feel him unloading all of his pent up cum into your swollen pussy. You clench around him, trying to pull him in deeper as he fills you up. Doing this for him… Letting him do this to you… It’s like a dream come true. You’re frantically praying that you won’t wake up.

His large hands come up to cup your face, drawing you closer. “I’m sorry,” he pants. “Are you okay? I’m s—” But he breaks off with a groan and pushes his hips up into you as his cock spasms with another spurt of cum. You brush your fingertips against his cheek. He must have been so pent up. His orgasm goes on and on, murmurs and soft touches interrupted again and again by another shuddering groan and his cock pumping another load of cum into you. You take it all, and you love every second of it.

Finally he falls back with an exhausted sigh, completely limp and drained. He looks up at you out of his heavy-lidded eyes, and you feel more in love with him than ever.

“What are you…?” you finally ask. He explains that whenever his kind are ready to mate, they must find a partner within a certain amount of time, or their bodies turn to unyielding stone. If you hadn’t molested him the way you did, he might have stayed frozen forever. You don’t want to think about what this will mean for the museum, or for your job. You ask him what he’s going to do now.

“I should probably return to my castle…” he says. “Do you want to come with me?”

God, do you ever. You lead him up to the roof of the museum, where he lifts you into his arms, unfurls his long leathery wings, and carries you away.

[nine-of-words]

Something Borrowed (Part Ten)

M Gargoyle x M Reader

PREVIOUS || STORY TAG

Wordcount: 5127

Content Warnings: Discussion of a Breakup

The horrors have been numerous and persistent for me lately, so this part took its sweet time getting written. Not much else to say about this chapter, other than I’m very excited to write the next one!!

It seems that things are determined to go sideways today. 

“Sorry to drop all of this on ya so early, but I knew you’d be awake.” Your sister’s voice comes through the speaker of your device.

You are indeed awake. You haven’t been sleeping well lately, despite it feeling like what you do the most these days- no idea why that would be- so you were already up and slowly trudging through your morning routine. But now you’re distracted with the call, going through making yourself a desperately needed cup of coffee mostly by feel in your dimly lit apartment kitchen.

“It’s okay- So, how exactly did this happen?”

“She took a wee tumble down the stairs. Got up in the middle of the night to get water, fell ass over kettle.”

“Oh, spirits. But you said it wasn’t serious, right?”

“Eh. Fractured her wrist, or so the doctor says. Right, Ma?” You hear a bit of noise in the background that sounds remarkably like your mother being quietly muttering in a displeased manner. “She’ll be right as rain soon enough. But she’s going to be in the cast for a tick.”

“Do I need to book a flight?”

“Hmm. You know we love to see ya- but nah. It's really not all that dire. Think she's tired of all the fuss by now, really.” She explains, before immediately switching into compulsory older sibling teasing. “Plus won't your new fella miss you? Unless you want to bring him along to meet what he's got to look forward to joining up with.”

“Haha… Yeah, you’re right. I suppose you’ll just have to wait…” You haven’t told them he’s not exactly your fella at the moment. What would you even say?

After a bit more conversation, Emer puts your mother on, and you speak to her for a short while. It assuages your worry a little, but not nearly enough to take the edge off. Though she's adamant you don't let her little mishap scare you into making sudden travel plans, you can't help but let it add to your ratings worries.

Maybe… you should go home?

You hang up your voci and look down at the brewed coffee that’s just started to drip through the filter. In your absent minded state, you’ve managed to put the exact mug you’ve been avoiding into the machine.

But there it is, the pink and white curves of ceramic reminding you of everything you're trying to push out of your mind.

You let out a long, frustrated sigh, pausing to stare vacantly at the mug.

Maybe putting an ocean between you and here will help you forget what you could have right now instead, if you weren't cursed.

You have all day to sit on it, you suppose, and can make a decision later. But you do have a business to run in the meantime, so you return to the process of adding your usual milk and sugar. 

It doesn’t help the bitter taste at all today.

Things don’t really go much better for you the longer the day progresses. 

“This is too sweet,” The older woman across the counter says, brandishing the mostly eaten cupcake in its paper lining. “I want a refund.”

“Well, it's a cupcake, m’am. It is mostly sugar…” You don’t even have the energy to muster your usual level of pleasantness. You barely keep from grimacing as you ring up the refund, just to get this person out of your hair.

Your customers are usually not this problematic, but you’re beginning to think that no one is having a good day today. You can deal with grumpy or picky people, but usually they’re not quite so many of them in a concentrated blast. Every little interaction is finding its way under your skin, and that’s not even taking into account how hard it is to concentrate and get any meaningful progress done.

Though, this is a task you’ve been pointedly avoiding that you’ll have to start sooner or later, today.

You’ve got to finish putting together Devin and Trevor’s cake- if you want it to be solid enough to put flowers in before delivery tomorrow night, which is rapidly approaching the longer you dawdle.

As in, nearly can be measured in hours instead of days soon.

It was different when it was just… anonymous cake layers you were cutting out and leveling. That could’ve been for anyone’s cake! But the more personality that goes into it, the more the subtle, nagging grief makes it difficult to work on.

You sigh and glob a stabilizing dollop of the vanilla buttercream- Trevor's choice- onto the base with your offset spatula.

It’s not as if you’re jealous that your ex is getting married at this point. You’re far past the stage of wanting him back by now. It just… all seems so unfair. Hopeless. He was able to wound you so deeply when he left- and just when you thought you had healed and moved on, carved out some new happiness for yourself- that got taken away, too.

Why should he get to be happy when you’re on the short end of the stick again?

You center a cake layer, then slather some more buttercream, spreading it out to make a glue for the next layer to adhere onto.

You’ll just have to think about it as Devin’s cake. It’s for your friend. That’s how you’ll get through this. You’ll do a good job, for your friend. Even if she’s marrying your ex, she should still get the best cake you can make for her, like you’d do for any other client.

Another layer of cake. A layer of elven berry compote that you made fresh yesterday- also Trevor’s choice, naturally. Another layer of cake. Then, repeat it all again.

As much as you try to rationalize that to yourself as you work through applying the crumb coat, you can’t help but realize you’ve been white-knuckling the spatula handle by time you’ve finished applying the buttercream.

Eventually, you have all of the crumb coated tiers ready on cake boards, to be given another coat and assembled after they’ve firmed up for a bit.

You mercifully shut the disassembled cake in the cooler, relieved that you don’t have to look at it for another few hours. Though, you have to hand it to yourself, even when your life is falling apart, you can make a bang-up gorgeous cake.

The demands of your business don’t stop just because you’re having a bad day and have other things to do, unfortunately. You’re not sure what portal to Hell has opened nearby, but it seems like all of the most awful customers have all decided to come to your shop today to take out their anger on you.

“No, we don’t do tiered pies here. I don’t even know if you’d be able to do that without making a mes- Well, okay. Have a nice day-” You say, though the person on the other end of the line has already hung up on you.

You turn to face the customer waiting at the counter, but before you can even greet them, they interrupt you with a snapping of their fingers.

“Where’s our waiter? I put our order into the kiosk twenty minutes ago and no one has even been by to so much as pour our water!”

“Oh, well, you can eat-in here, that’s what the seating is for, but we’re not a full service-”

“Ugh, fine! Just get me my order already, then.” The customer barks and you have to bite your tongue to restrain yourself from snapping back.

By time you reach another lull in activity and get back to work on Devin’s cake, your jaw and shoulders are fully tensed.

Since it’s slow, you take out the gumpaste. You have another tray of roses to sculpt so they can dry on time to place them tomorrow, so you might as well knock it out sooner than later.

Maybe none of this would be getting to you so much, but the full weight of the wedding being tomorrow is bearing down on you. The one saving grace is that Kirby will be there to distract you- at least you won’t be alone. You’ll deliver the cake, you’ll get through the ceremony, you’ll stay for a brief yet socially acceptable amount of time at the reception, and then you’ll go home and this whole excruciating ordeal will be over.

You just have to finish this cake and get through tonight first.

Only a few more hours until close. 

You can do this.

You make it another hour, rolling thinned pieces of sugary paste into delicate petals, before the bell door rings, and the person you see walk through the door gives you pause.

It’s not Carlyle, as you’ve been hoping it was every single time you hear the shop bell jingle since the last time you saw him. But it certainly looks like him, in everything but personal styling, and of course, the shape of the quartzose horns protruding from his brow.

Today it seems he’s left his body glitter at home, however. He’s dressed in relatively casual clothing; a hoodie (midriff still intact), untied slim joggers, immaculately clean sneakers. The difference is so staggering you might not have even recognized him as the same person, compared to his last visit, if he didn’t have Carlyle’s face; which you can now see clearly underneath his loose brown curls, this time not covered by the shadow of his hood.

“Hey.”

He gives you a tilt of his chin in acknowledgement and smiles an uncannily similar, fanged smile to the one you’ve grown accustomed to seeing. It’s a stab of pain, how sorely you miss it right now, and seeing it again, but just different enough to not be it.

“Uh. Hi, Marcus?” You say in a stilted manner, not really sure how to proceed. “You are… looking less gilded today than last time.”

“Hahahah, yeah. I didn’t have work last night, dude. No hangover!”

“Hah. Right…”

“But good to see you again, man! …I was wonderin-”

“Listen, if you’re here to deliver a message or something, I really can’t do this right now.” You cut him off, begging more than anything at this point to not have another thing go wrong or a twist of the knife today. You scrub at your face with your forearm to keep your hands sanitary, the deep pit of frustration starting to bubble out of you unintentionally. “And he knows to not-”

“Hey, no man, listen! It’s nothing like that.” He pats his curls down, the same way that his brother occasionally does with his dreadlocks when he’s smoothing out a misunderstanding. “He’d be PISSED if I knew he was here, hahah. He told me never to come here on my own after last time!”

“Well, maybe you should follow his instruction on that matter.” You say dryly and continue to roll the soft substance in silent judgement. “He usually knows what he’s talking about.”

Marcus seems to take this as a bad sign, his face twisting into a look of exasperation.

“Fine! Gimme a dozen cupcakes then. Fuck, make it any flavor, dude, I don’t even care.” He starts rifling through his pants pockets, finally pulling out his wallet, and then a card that he puts on the counter. It’s got his name printed on it, rather than Carlyle’s, so you suppose he’s gotten it replaced since the last time. “You’ve gotta talk to me if I’m a customer ‘n shit, right?”

“You know I do have the right to refuse service to you…?”

“Yeah man, but I don’t think you’re gonna! You’re too nice, from what I’ve heard.” Marcus says with the sort of shit-eating grin on his face that absolutely makes you want to refuse service to him, but with a vengeance.

“Well if you’re not here on your brother’s behalf…” You sigh in your own matching exasperated look and set down your gumpaste project to start boxing a dozen cupcakes. “Why are you here, then?”

“I’m gonna be totally honest with you, dude. He didn’t send me, but it is about him. I’m like, super worried about him.”

“Oh…” You can’t help yourself, you have to ask. “Is he alright…?” 

“Hell no! He’s all fucked up, man! The other night, I left at 8pm and he was still in the same spot at 11am when I got back in. Same book, same fit, same stale cup of coffee. He had sat still in the same place reading whatever nerd shit he was reading for so long that he deadass went half solid.” 

You can’t find the words to respond to that. The guilt gnaws at you like you gnaw at your bottom lip, but in a strange way, you feel validated that he’s still as messed up about things as you are.

“Look, whatever he did, it can’t be that bad, right? It’s Lyle!! He like, never fucks up like that.” He leans over the counter, talking with his hands in another show of familiar, yet foreign-in-this-context expression. He taps his chest with the fingertips of a spread hand for emphasis. “And I would know, ‘cuz I’M the family fuck up here. So, maybe you could like, just forgive him and junk? Make up or whatever?”

“It’s not…” You take a second to steady your breath. You’ve been trying to suppress these feelings for weeks, and now they’re getting dragged up so suddenly. “It’s not something he did. It’s… outside circumstances…”

You hesitate for a brief moment before you pick out the last of the random assortment; an orange and mixed spice flavor you found yourself trying out.

“That’s it? There’s no gettin’ around it, huh?”

“No. I'm sorry. It's complicated. I just can't.” You say with weakened conviction as you tape the box up, and then hoping to persuade yourself once again, add; “It’s better this way.”

“Right-” Marcus straightens up and rocks back and forth on his feet, his sneakers squeaking slightly against the tile with the motion. “Sorry if pushing was out of line, dude.”

“Don't worry about it- honestly, I'm sort of glad you showed up.” You smile, bittersweet. “It’s good that he has someone looking out for him.”

“Yeah.” Marcus smiles a conflicted smile back, then takes his cupcakes to go. “See you ‘round, dude.”

You find yourself having a silent argument with yourself as you finish the rest of the roses.

There’s the guilt, of course. Are you a bad person if you know that this separation is hurting you both, and yet you’re continuing to enforce it? Maybe you should have just let Marcus convince you to reach out?

Seeing someone with such familiar features has only made your heart ache that much more for what you’re missing.

Perhaps it’s for the best that you don’t have any customers in the shop at the moment, because they’d be able to clearly see you sneering at empty air and grumbling to yourself.

By the time you finish the last petal on the last rose of the tray, you’re no closer to having resolved your internal disagreement.

You put the roses away, and pull out your fully set, crumb-coated cake. Now just to put the final layer of frosting on, and then you’ll be done for the night.

As you set the tray down on the counter, your voci starts ringing in your pocket. You remove your gloves and answer the call, seeing that it’s Kirby. They’ve been checking in on you a lot more often lately, like you’re a sickly pet needing constant supervision. They're not entirely wrong.

You greet them as you put them on speaker. Then you wash up, and reglove as their voice comes through on the other end.

“So! How is your day going so far?”

“Oh, you know. Typical weekend customers. Ma broke her wrist.” You say flatly, smoothing out the buttercream on the top of the lowest cake tier with a spin of the stand with well-practiced motions.

“Oh no! That’s terrible! Is she okay??”

 “She’s fine, but it’s still stressful that I can’t be there to help out.”

Once you’re finished getting a perfectly even, level surface on the lowest tier, you begin the process again on a slightly smaller scale on the next largest cake tier.

“Mmm. Yeah, it must be, being so far away.”

“And Carlyle’s brother came into the shop earlier.” You continue, now lathing more buttercream onto the sides.

“Whaaaat??? No!! Glitter Boy?! Oh my SPIRITS you’ve gotta tell me all the details right now!”

“There’s not a lot to say, really. Told me Carlyle’s not taking it well either, and now I feel like a villain.”

“You’re not a villain,” Kirby sighs. “Sometimes things are just. Y’know. Messy.”

You continue to make your way through doing the final coat on the cake tiers, each one going progressively faster as they diminish in size.

“Oh, and how could I forget- I’m making a cake for my ex’s wedding that social pressure is forcing me to attend. So you know. The usual.”

“Hahah- Ooh, bummer. Well, when you put it like that, it does sound like, toooootally miserable! You’re having a pretty horrible day, and I’m… definitely not about to make it worse, hahah!!”

“Oh no.” You hiss through gritted teeth. “Something’s wrong, then?”

They laugh nervously, a little giggle-whimper that you can’t possibly be irritated with.

You’re silent as you begin to fill a piping bag with buttercream, waiting for Kirby to divulge their information.

“I MAY have some bad news.”

“Oh. Lovely. Just grand! More bad news is exactly what I need at this current moment.” You say, dripping with sarcasm.

“I know!!! Believe me, I know! But I wanted to tell you as soon as I found out.” Kirby sighs. “I just got out of a meeting with my boss and they’re sending me out of town on a case. I have to get on a red eye in a few hours.”

“But… the wedding is tomorrow…”

“Yeah, that would be the problem! But I can’t exactly tell my boss to fuck off and still have a job, y’know??? Soooooo. We are in. damage. control. mode!”

“It’s okay.” You say, it not really being okay at all, but not wanting to lash out at your friend who’s only ever tried to help you in any given situation. You’re simply too stunned to even start to panic.

“Nope! It’s ABSOLUTELY not! But I’ll be there in like, an hour!! I’ll bring dinner and we can totally figure out a plan B, okay? Or I guess plan C or D by now- But bestie, I don’t care if I have to HIRE an escort to take you to that wedding, you’re not going alone! Especially not because of stupid work interference!!”

“Hah- A-Alright.” You laugh weakly and speak through a sharp intake of air, but manage to not sound like you’re about to burst into tears, even though you desperately want to. “See you soon.”

The call ends, but you continue working, despite the rapidly expanding pit of terror in your gut and the sting at the back of your eyes.

This news, surprisingly, does not help your ability to finish this cake.

You keep going, but not without roadblocks. Your eyes screw closed in frustration and pain. Your teeth grit. Your hand clenches around the bag, nearly squeezing the frosting out of the back end of it.

As a small mercy, closing time finally comes and you turn off the light, though you leave the door unlocked, given you’re expecting Kirby sometime in the next hour or so.

You need to move on to piping some of the finer details- But you can't even think about piping an even line right now, not with the way your hand is trembling.

Still, you persist, pushing the bag back taut and re-twisting the open end. 

“Stop. Shaking.” You hiss out loud at yourself, your body refusing to obey even your own verbal instructions.

You just need to get this cake done. Is that so much to ask?

Kirby is coming over and you’ll find a solution for the wedding. You won’t have to go to your ex's wedding alone. It will be fine.

The tremor in your hand nearly causes you to stab through the layer you’re working on with the piping tip, so you take a moment to straighten up your posture and try to loosen your locking muscles. You take a few calming breaths, then go back in and manage to finish the last few filigree details on the tier you're working on.

Your hand is already shaking again. You ignore it. You’ll get through this. You have to.

But every time you regain focus, the thought of Carlyle as a miserable and inert statue keeps creeping back unbidden into your mind.

It’s all too much. Too much. Too much.

The lights above you flicker. A buzz of energy ripples through the room.

The pressure on your chest is unbearable now. Blood rushes in your ears. 

You can’t deal with this anymore.

You can’t even think-!

POP-

In an instant, something cold and cloying splatters across the side of your face and the bridge of your nose, the front of your shirt, your clenched hands and outstretched forearms.

You bring a hand to your face in shock, blindly testing the sudden change in texture.

Your fingertips come away coated in sticky, sugary goop, and bits of shredded vanilla sponge cake.

And where the cake tiers were sitting on the counter, there’s a conspicuous absence of a cake, only the sparse large chunk of shrapnel- a bloodless crime scene, the mostly empty, frosting smeared cakeboards evoking the essence of a chalk body outline.

Well. You’ll be damned.

The cake exploded.

Hoarse, incredulous laughter escapes your throat- first in disbelief, then in bitter resignation. No other reaction really seems to suit this situation more.

Because your life is a joke. A bad joke.

Your laughs thin out, turning into choked sobs. You sink down until you’re sitting on your cold shop floor with your back against a cabinet, and bring the lower clean edge of the apron up to cry into.

Eventually, the unrestrained weeping quiets into silent tears Time has passed, as evidenced by the sky beginning to darken outside. 

“Heeeeellooooo~! I’m heee-” You hear a familiar voice call out and then equally familiar hoof falls on the tile. There’s a rapid change in their tone, making a 180° turn into hushed concern. “Oh. Well fuck, that doesn’t look good-” 

After a few moments, Kirby rounds the counter, an inquisitive look on their face.

You can’t even muster the embarrassment to be seen like this, too tired and emotionally drained and just simply done with it all.

You expect a look of pity or maybe some awkward fussing, but instead, Kirby simply gives you a knowing smile.

“What a mess!!” Kirby shakes their head, curls tumbling as they assess the damage. “You’re not hurt, are you, honey?”

You shake your head weakly, rubbing at your eye with your inner wrist.

“Good! Well then, let’s get this all cleaned up!” They chirp and reach out their hand, palm up.

After the moment it takes to recognize the gesture, you take their hand. Kirby’s grip is surprisingly strong for being such a petite faun, and they easily manage to help you to your feet.

“You don’t have to-” 

“Well I’m NOT going to let you sit here and cry covered in frosting all night.” Kirby laughs, beginning to roll up the sleeves of their work shirt. “So. Yes I do~”

“...Thank you.” You sniffle.

“Don’t mention it!!” They laugh. “You go get cleaned up and I’ll start tackling this absolute disaster zone!”

You trudge upstairs and debate on the benefits of a full shower before deciding that it’s worth it, even if ten more cakes explode. You’re uncomfortably sticky down your neck and arms. 

Maybe you can wash this day away, while you’re at it…

Before long you’re redressed and coming back downstairs- if not feeling completely refreshed, you at least now have it in you to face the (suddenly much longer) list of tasks ahead. Kirby has gotten most of the cake into a trash bag, and is wiping down the counter.

“There, you look much better! Now, come tell me what was happening when this happened, will you?”

You join them, grabbing a sanitizer rag and beginning to help wipe down the closest surface. You describe as best you can exactly what you were doing, feeling, and thinking about when the cake exploded, just as you’ve explained to them about the previous incidents that you weren’t physically present for.

“Hmm.” Kirby hums quizzically. “Well, the good news is I’ve got a potential solution for the wedding dilemma.”

“Oh?” You’d be lying if you said that the promise of a stressor being removed didn’t sound divine.

“Actually, I’ve already convinced Rosario to go with you, if you want, while I was on the way over. Did you know that she’s surprisingly easy to bribe?!” Kirby giggles. “But to be honest- I didn’t even need to bribe her!! She agreed before I offered anything in return. Apparently wedding cake and an open bar is enough reason for her to turn up, or so she said. But I think it’s because she likes you.”

“That’s… very kind of her.” She wouldn’t be the worst companion for the event- you’ve grown quite fond of her presence in your shop, prickly attitude and all.

“Yeah! She’ll easily make your ex just as uncomfortable as I was planning to, all on her own merit, hehe!! BUUUUUT, I think you know what I’m about to say-”

“Don’t…”

“You should call him!” Kirby says in the most obnoxiously sing-song sweet tone they can, and you wince hard.

“I can’t-”

“But you can~!!”

“But I don’t think I should-”

“Well, maybe you should think again, sweetie!! You absoluuuuutely should! Because if this-” Kirby motions to the partially cleaned up buttercream splatter still coating the vicinity. “Isn’t proof enough that it’s not a him problem, I don’t know what would be!!”

You drag a palm across your face, overwhelmed, and heave a sigh.

“At the end of the day it’s your choice! I can’t make you call him. But you miss him, and he misses you! I know this for a fact! And SPIRITS is he being SO insufferable about it!! And so are you!!!! And it’s just a BIT silly to keep drawing this out like this.”

“But… I don’t want him to get hurt…”

“Listen. We know there’s something attached to you- Rosario’s exorcism attempt confirmed that much. But there’s no like, actual indication that any of that is related to what’s happening with the curse. It’s just not how this kind of magic works. We’re almost certain we’re dealing with two unconnected, non-standard issues complicating each other at this point- some sort of spirit attached to you, and some sort of ley-based magical compulsion in play- but we don’t know the source of where either of those things are coming from. Yet.”

“Right.” You say, pausing your cleaning work to take in the new information.

“Though, someone has some very promising ideas about the later being some sort of messed up geas, and Rosario seems like she has a hunch on what is in the shop.”

“But… it just feels like it’s getting worse. Not that I don’t appreciate your efforts, of course…”

“I know it feels that way. But I am good at my job! And I’ve been keeping track of the numbers this whole time, y’know?? I’ve got the DATA. Do you know what I’ve noticed the most as a trend over the time I've been working your case?”

You simply shake your head to give them time to build dramatic tension before they continue.

“The cakes explode more when you’re upset!! Like, a whole, whole lot more! And quite frankly at this point, in my professional opinion, you being separated from him is making it WORSE!!”

“...You really think it’d be okay to ask him-” To go back to how it was before, to be with me again; you want to say, but end up continuing instead; “to come with me to the wedding?”

You have the feeling Kirby understands what you wanted to say, anyway, based on their pleased expression, like they’re finally getting the message through to you.

“You’re my friend!! And as your friend, I am HEREBY giving you the permission that you’re not giving yourself! I wouldn’t be suggesting this to you if I didn’t think it was safe.” Kirby squarely lays their hands on you on the shoulders, though they need to reach up slightly to do it. “If anything, having him there might keep you from getting bent out of shape at your ex and blowing up the second cake, like, at the actual wedding.”

“That would be horrible.” You rasp and find yourself genuinely smiling for the first time all day, trying to blink back the sting of more tears threatening to spill, though this time more out of a sense of appreciation than despair.

“It. Would. Be. HILARIOUS.” Kirby says with a mischievous grin, patting your shoulders with each word for emphasis. “And if it were to happen, I would hope you were recording it. Y’know, for data collection purposes, hehehe!! But it would also be, let’s say: bad for business.”

You manage to finish getting things looking clean, as if nothing bad had happened at all, Kirby has called their ride to the airport.

“Now, I have to go or I’m going to miss my flight and my boss will probably-actually-literally murder me.” 

“And I have a cake to remake.” You quietly lament. “If you want, I can get on the plane and you can make the cake…”

Kirby lets out a string of giggles, picking their carry-on bag off the seat at the counter they stashed it on..

“Hahah- No thanks!! But- Call him.” Kirby repeats as they give you a squeezing hug goodbye. “Or Rosario, if you must. But don’t make yourself go alone. And keep me updated!! All of the juicy wedding gossip, please. I’m definitely going to be bored out of my mind otherwise, hehe!!”

Then they release you from their grip to head out the door with one last wave and a jingle of the shop bell. 

You, on the other hand, let out a long, withering sigh and pull out another set of white cake layers from the cooler.

…It’s going to be a long night.

>> ✨ MASTERLIST >> ☕ KO-FI

[monsterfuckabilitytournament]

submit more fuckable monsters here:

[ventique18]

🐉: "People used to make gargoyles with human features as well. Also referred to as Chimeras, these human-like gargoyles are famously known for being a hybrid creature with human faces or parts. Many common gargoyles are also called as such because they combine several different features from different animals such as its face, tail, wings, and body type."

🐉: "... But this is not your area of interest, so I likely must be boring you, no? Apologies. Let me instead think of something related to things you enjoy."

🌸: "No,

[dianthusandhisreds]

「 ✦ 𝕄𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕦𝕤 𝕒𝕤 𝕒 𝕓𝕠𝕪𝕗𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕕 𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟙 ✦ 」

𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓾𝓪𝓰𝓮𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓭𝓲𝓼𝓹𝓵𝓪𝔂𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓪𝓯𝓯𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷:

♡ Malleus, like the dragon (fae) he is, is very fond of collecting/hoarding small trinkets or things he finds interesting, like his “pet” Gao-Gao Drakon-kun. It comes so natural to him that he believes everyone must feel that way, so expect him to shower you with gifts at every chance he gets.

♡ He also enjoys going on long walks with you in the middle of the night (he loves seeing you ramble on about the things you are interested in); so you often find yourself joining him on a stroll in the warmer part of the botanical garden in wintertime.

On that note, if he notices that you are cold, he’ll immediately suggest going somewhere warmer or he’ll cast a spell to warm you up.

♡ As for (public) displays of affection, Malleus is the kind of man who will ask you for permission before kissing you on the lips, often kissing your hand or forehead instead. As for hugs, you and him will probably have long cuddling sessions on your couch while you watch TV or while you game/read.

𝓗𝓲𝓼 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓼:

♡ He’ll be ecstatic if you ask him about his favourite places or gargoyles, especially the latter. Hoo boy, better get ready for a lengthy lesson about them, their use, their evolution through history… You get the drill.

♡ The thing is, you can’t really stop him. I mean, look at this guy, his eyes light up every time someone shows even the slightest interest on his tastes. He’s just, so, happy. Why bother yourself with buying lightbulbs when you have a gleeful Malleus illuminating the whole room?

Speaking of which, after repeatedly telling Malleus he can come and visit you at Ramshackle whenever he wants to (as long as it’s not at an ungodly hour in the morning), he starts coming over all the time.

At first, he’ll look very awkward, just standing there in the middle of your living room, unsure what to do. Eventually though, he will warm up to his surroundings, and kind of make himself at home: popping in just to say hi; chatting with the ghosts, helping you out in the kitchen…

𝓦𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓯𝓮𝓮𝓵 𝓪 𝓫𝓲𝓽 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷:

♡ To be honest, Malleus isn’t really good at knowing what to do or what to say when you are not doing well, but he’ll try his best because I mean, he’s going to be king, if he can’t help the one he loves, how is he going to aid his future subjects?

♡ He would usually ask Lilia for help, but because the old bat is emotionally constipated and just shrugs off his problems until people overblot , he decides to ask Trey or Deuce, as he knows you three get along.

♡ For the most part he’ll just hold your hand and draw circles on your back (if you are feeling like it) while he softly whispers reassurances in your ear. He doesn’t mind having to repeat words of encouragement over and over if it means that someday, you’ll believe them. After all, you have helped him numerous times, so what kind of person (?) would he be if he just left you suffering like that?

[flowersandbigteeth]

A Heath the Gargoyle part 2? It’s going to be the 1 year anniversary for his story soon (you posted Dec. 29 2022) and I’d love to see the couple’s relationship in a more established/long term phase. Maybe Heath is getting ready to propose so Y/N doesnt end up “dying alone eaten by local strays”?

I can't believe it's been a whole freaking year!!! Time goes soooo fast! Okay, I didn't make it the 29th...but I'm close ^_^

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Gargoyle (Heath) x F reader

Word Count: 3.5 K

General Plot: You and Heath go to a childhood friend's New Years Party.

Previous Parts

TW: nsfw gargoyle smut, extremally awkward party conversation, p in v sex, flying and being in high places if heights bothers you, discussion of depression, hurt comfort dynamic

“Are you sure this looks good?” Heath asked you, shifting on his feet and plucking at the silver tie you’d fastened to his neck to match your sparkly dress.

“It's perfect!” You beamed, smiling up at him and swatting his hand. “Don't look so nervous!” 

“I don't want to embarrass you,” he said, uncharacteristically shy. 

You snorted. 

“I’m more worried about the opposite,” you sighed. “Just…take anything they say with a grain of salt.” 

“What does that mean?” He asked. 

“Grace and I have been friends since we were kids because my mom works for her dad’s company…I kind of had to be her friend. Don't get me wrong, we were really close when we were kids,” you said. “But now I only see her for her annual New Year's party for my mom's sake. It's all I can stomach…how do I say this…she's kind of…competitive….You'll see.” 

The two of you stood on the doorstep of her boyfriend’s obnoxiously large house, the sound of the party inside filling the chilly night air. You wore a sparkly dress, and Heath a sharp suit customized to fit his wings. 

“Maybe they didn't hear me.” 

You hit the doorbell again, and it let out a hollow DING. 

“I’ve got it!” Someone shouted behind the door. 

You heard the sound of footsteps, and the door swung open to reveal Grace's boyfriend Mark. 

He was a better than average looking guy with blonde hair cut in a trendy style, wearing an expensive suit.

“Well…hello!” Mark said, his head tipping back to meet Heath’s eyes. “You’re…” 

His mouth hung open for a moment, at a loss for words, then they both spoke at once.

“Heath.” 

“Huge.” 

There was an awkward pause before you stepped forward and hugged Mark. 

“Thanks for having us over, Mark!” You beamed, shoving a bottle of champagne in his hand. 

Mark blinked for a moment as you pushed past him, pulling Heath behind you. 

“Grace’s in the kitchen!” He called after the two of you as he shut the door. 

“Hiiii!” Grace squealed as you pushed through partygoers to get to the kitchen. 

It wasn’t particularly difficult since Heath was bigger, harder, and wider than anyone in the room.

Grace looked beautiful, dressed in a glittery champagne bodycon dress. She'd always been lithe, her profile spruced up by a new pair of boobs Mark had bought her.

As usual, her party was perfect, every detail considered. There was a bartender wearing a bow tie serving drinks, the perfect music playing, and fresh flower arrangements everywhere. 

All the furniture had been removed to create a dance floor, and someone had specially designed gold lights to set the mood.

“So this is the man himself!” Grace exclaimed, looking up at Heath with wide eyes. 

“Gargoyle,” you corrected. 

“Right! Right! Henry, wasn't it?” 

Heath gave her a humble smile and stuck out a hand to shake hers. 

“Heath. Nice to meet one of (Y/N)’s friends.” 

She held his hand a moment too long before she dropped it.  

“(Y/N), shame on you for keeping him hidden away!” 

You blushed and put a hand on Heath’s arm, unsure what to say. The two of you had been half hibernating for the winter. You tended to get a bit of depression during the cold, dark months. Heath was more than happy to snuggle up with you and his fluffy little cat Aero and cuddle, which is all you really wanted to do from November to April.

People usually imagined gargoyles sitting stoically in the snow and menacing passerbys, but Heath liked to nest, tucking you both in piles of warm blankets and reading to you while you shared snacks.

Her eyes traveled from the tip of his folded wings, down the trim suit was wearing, to his clawed feet. 

“I can see why,” she went on, her mouth hanging open for a moment before she caught herself. “I'm so glad you two came!” 

“I've been missing my best friend! Let's get you some drinks!” she squealed, leading you out of the kitchen.

Heath glanced down at you and raised an eyebrow.

“Best friend?” He mouthed at you, and you shrugged. 

“Pomegranate martinis for us,” she said to the man behind the bar. 

“What do you like to drink, Heath?” Mark asked, appearing with the bottle of champagne you'd brought and handing it to the bartender. 

“Whatever you've got with Whiskey.”

“Gotcha, big guy,” the bartender said, tossing bottles elegantly as he made the drinks. 

When you were all set up with beverages, Lily led you out onto her back patio. 

“Look at this,” you said, taking in the beautiful outdoor space. “You've been hard at work! It's beautiful out here!” 

She'd put in layers of neatly trimmed flowers and bushes, which were dusted in snow. White lounges were arranged to make comfortable seating areas warmed by blue glass fire pits. The massive pool glowed, steam drifting up from its surface. It looked like it had come straight out of a magazine. 

“Isn't it? Mark got the best landscaper in the state! I'll give you his card!” 

She frowned at you. 

“Oh, you're still in that icky old apartment, aren't you?” she asked.  "You've got to get out of that place. Aren't you afraid of mold? It's terrible for your complexion."

“(Y/N) lives with me. Gargoyles like high places, so I have a flat downtown,” Heath corrected her, then smiled down at you. “Though the only plants we have are potted.” 

“Heath is really good with plants,” you said, smiling back at him with warmth. “He’s made us a whole jungle on the balcony!” 

“Hmm,” Grace hummed, eyes dropping to Heath’s large hands. “You look like you're good with your hands, Heath. You’ll have to come by sometime and give me some lessons.”

Heath’s eyebrows rose, glancing down at you for help. 

“How’s work going, Mark?” You asked to change the subject. 

“Mark got a promotion,” Grace said before he could answer. “He's a senior account manager at Dawson and Shields.” 

“Congratulations, Mark,” you said politely. 

He raised his drink and put a possessive arm over Grace’s shoulder. 

Before anyone could speak, one of Grace’s’s friends practically ran towards you, eyes on your hulking boyfriend. 

“(Y/N)!” Mary wailed, throwing her arms around you in a way she’d never done before. 

“Oh…Oof!” you gasped, catching her weight. “Uh…nice to see you again, Mary. This is my boyfriend, Heath.” 

He put his hand out to shake hers, but she shoved her body past it, attempting to plaster herself to his chest.

“We do hugs here!” Mary brayed. 

He took an awkward step backward, gently pushing Mary off of him with one large hand. 

“Sorry,” he said, tapping his nose. “Your perfume. My kind is very sensitive to scent.” 

He folded his big body down and tucked his nose into the spot where your neck met your shoulder, tapping a small kiss into your skin and subtly sniffing your neck as if he was cleansing his pallet. 

Mary’s face turned bright red, and she took a step back. 

“Are you still working at that bookstore?” Grace asked, filling the awkward silence.  

Before you could answer, she turned to Heath.

“I've been trying to tell (Y/N) it's time to get a grown-up job for years now. I mean, who works minimum wage at some shabby little bookstore at our age, don't you think?” 

Heath glanced at you and tipped his head to the side in a way you recognized as annoyance, though didn't look it. He took a sip of his drink to hide his frown.  

“What do you do, Grace?” He asked when he’d straightened his face.  

Excited to talk about herself, she went on, her hands waving around as she talked. 

“I'm a beauty influencer!” she said. 

“Beauty…influencer?” Heath asked. “I'm not sure I know what that means.”

She stuck out her chest to show off the Chanel necklace resting just above her cleavage. 

“I model jewelry, makeup, and nails,” she said. “Then I do reviews on all the products!” 

“Oh..uh…neat,” he said, trying to be friendly for your sake.“I didn't know that was a job. Do the brands pay you?” 

Her bright smile fell for just a moment before she plastered it back on. 

“Well…No, but I'm hoping to get some sponsorships this year!” She said. “I have 1,000 followers on TikTok!”  

Heath gave her a blank look. 

“Tik… Tok?” He asked, glancing down at you for guidance. 

“Um…it started as an app for teenagers to lip-sync popular songs, but now lots of people use it!” you explained. 

He raised his eyebrows but was at a loss for words.  

“What do you do for work, Heath?” Mark asked. 

“I own a shabby little bookstore,” he said before taking a long drag of his drink. 

“Oh!” Grace said with a stilted smile. 

There was another incredibly awkward silence. 

“Well, I think that's wonderful!” Mary cheered, squeezing his elbow. “There aren't enough brick-and-mortar stores these days! Everything is online!” 

Heath brightened, though he took a half step away from Mary.

“We do a lot of online business, as well.” 

He brushed his heavy hand over your hair, affectionately. 

“We?” Grace asked. 

“I made (Y/N) my co-owner.” 

“Wow, sleeping with the boss, (Y/N),”  Mary snickered. “I never thought you had it in you.” 

You blushed, but Heath folded you under his arm. 

“It’s the other way around,” Heath chuckled, brushing his thumb over your bare shoulder as he spoke. “(Y/N) is the boss. She’s got more of a mind for business than me. I'm just a book nerd, but she’s a marketing genius. Sales were dropping the year before last, so she managed to turn the store into more of a destination. Since she took over things, we've started focusing on hard-to-find antiques and hosting auction events. Profits have quadrupled.” 

“Oh!” Mark said, snapping his fingers. “Of course! You own Gargoyle Book Gallery! That's a legend! My boss loves antique books...first editions and all that. He raves about your spot all the time!” 

Heath tipped his drink at Mark. 

“Donny Shields, right? He comes by for poker night.” 

“Poker night?” Mark asked. 

Heath nodded. 

“Some guys from the Business League come over on Saturdays to play a couple of hands of poker and shoot the shit,” he explained. 

Mark’s eyebrows shot up. 

“I'd love to get in on that!” He said, eyes almost green with envy. "Can't imagine the conversations over that table!"

Heath shrugged. 

“We’ve got a full table now, but if a spot opens up, I’ll ask the guys,” he said. 

Grace decided too much time had passed without anyone paying attention to her. 

“Now that Mark is on track to be partner, we are going to buy a new house!” she said. “I don’t understand how you can stand to live in a tiny apartment!” 

Mark looked at her like he did not, in fact, want to buy a new house. 

“We’re still discussing it,” he said. 

Grace smacked him on the arm. 

“Don’t be silly, Mark,” she said. “With your raise, we can afford something bigger!” 

“I mean, I spend a lot of money on your stuff for TikTok, Grace,” he murmured. “Maybe if you were pulling in some revenue-” 

Grace smacked him again, harder this time, and gave him a look that said, “Shut up if you know what’s good for you.” 

“This place is really nice,” Heath offered Mark, trying to be diplomatic. “Plenty of room for a family.” 

They both spoke at once. 

“We aren’t starting a family.” 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought when I bought it.” 

You and Heath glanced at one another and took long sips of your drinks. 

“I have my career to think of!” Grace said while Mark found somewhere else to look. 

“That’s a pity. You’d be a great mom!” Mary said. “You could be a mommy blogger. Your fans would love that. You and Mark would have beautiful babies.”  

“Of course. We have excellent genes,” Grace said, enjoying being complimented. 

Her eyes slid mischievously to you. 

“What about you two?” she asked. “Are you thinking of starting a family?” 

You and Heath’s eyes met. 

“Maybe,” Heath said. “If you want to.” 

Your cheeks warmed, but not from embarrassment. 

“I’d like that,” you said. 

Grace frowned. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” she asked. 

The two of you looked at her, confused. 

“You know, because of your mental illness. You wouldn’t want to pass that on to your kids…and how can you be a good mom with depression?” 

Your heart dropped, and tears flooded your eyes. It shouldn’t have gotten to you. You knew how Grace was, but it still hurt. It was something you’d always felt a little insecure about. 

Heath’s mouth fell open, and he shoved his glass into Mark’s hand. 

“It was nice to meet you, Mark,” he said before he scooped you up in his arms, and with a heavy pump of his wings, the two of you shot up into the night sky. 

He flew a couple of blocks away, before he stopped and hovered in place.  

Tears slid down your cheeks, leaving an icy streak as they cooled. 

“Are you okay?” Heath asked as the two of you hung suspended in the cold December air.

You sniffled, wiping your tears. 

“Yeah…I told you…Grace is competitive. She doesn’t like anyone looking better than her,” you whimpered. 

You felt a low growl in his chest. 

“That’s no excuse,” he said. “I think you’ll be a great mom. I’m not the least bit worried.” 

“But what if she’s right?” you asked. “What if I’m a terrible mom? What if my kids are messed up or something?” 

Heath let out a chuff with no humor. 

“That’s nonsense, teacup,” he said. “Depression is pretty common…and you manage yours just fine. Nobody is a perfect parent, and everyone has different challenges. Grace sounds like some kind of eugenicist. It’s creepy, to be honest.” 

“Are you sure?” you asked. “You don’t wish you had a perfect girlfriend like Grace?” 

Heath laughed out loud. 

“Grace is not the perfect girlfriend. Sooo far from it. I kind of feel bad for Mark, to be honest,” he said. “You on the other hand…” 

He tucked his head in the crook of your neck, smattering kisses over the skin. 

“You are smart…sweet…patient…incredibly patient,” he whispered, kissing you or nibbling with each word. “I have no idea how you put up with that woman.” 

“You get used to it,” you murmured. 

He tipped your face up to his. 

“I don’t want you to get used to that kind of meanness,” he said. “I don’t want to control who you see…but I don’t like them. I’d rather spend the rest of New Year's with you if that’s okay, not some snobby weirdos.” 

He adjusted you in his arms, nudging you to loop your legs around his waist. You pressed yourself against his warm body to chase away the chill of the night air. With one arm holding you to him, he cupped the nape of your neck, guiding your lips to his with the other. 

He tasted like oaky whiskey, making your mouth water. His heavy kisses chased any thoughts of Grace or the party away. 

Hovering in the inky night with the twinkling lights of the city sparkling in every direction, your only focus was Heath’s thick hand holding you securely in place and his lips on yours. 

You ground your hips into his body, delighted to feel his hardening shaft meet your core. 

His hand slipped down your neck, tugging the front of your dress down with a stiff jerk. The straps snapped, and your breasts tumbled out. 

“Heath,” you gasped, but he hushed you with another deep kiss before speaking. 

“It’s dark. No one can see us. Let me make you feel good.” 

He dipped his head, drawing a peaked nipple into his mouth. The contrast of his hot tongue and the chilly air made you quake. He licked and sucked one nipple and then the other until you’d completely forgotten everything going on below. Your world shrank to just Heath and all the decadent things he could do to your body. 

Your head fell back, pleasure snaking up and down your spine as he delighted you. Thick fingers roughly shoved the skirt of your dress up your thighs, and he traced your slit, growling at how wet you were for him. Another swift jerk and your shredded panties were fluttering a hundred feet down to the snowy earth. 

You gasped his name, but he was high on your scent and taste, wholly focused on giving you pleasure. He screwed two fingers inside of you, opening you up for him. You let out a needy whimper when they pulled out for a moment but were quickly replaced with his tail, thrusting in and out of you. 

You hardly heard the buzz of his zipper, your eyes rolling back in your head. With a tight thrust of his hips, his tail slipped away, and his thick cock filled you. He clutched your ass with a deep, satisfied grunt. 

A hundred feet up in the sky, you didn’t dare unhook your arms from around his neck, so you were at his mercy as he slammed his shaft into you. You bleated lusty yelps with every smack of his heavy balls against your skin, clinging to him for dear life. You were dizzy from fear blending with pleasure, your breaths ragged gasps. There was nothing between you and falling to your death but Heath’s enormous arms and powerful wings. 

“You’re so fucking perfect, (Y/N),” he growled into your ear, practically feral from the way your channel spasmed around his cock. You were tight, wet, hot, and the only woman in the world he wanted. Gripping your ass, he used your cunt like a fleshlight, slamming his cock into you over and over again. 

The tip of his naughty tail circled your clit, pushing you closer and closer to your end until there was nowhere else to go, and you went careening over the edge. With the addition of your pussy strangling his cock he couldn’t hold back any longer, his final thrusts savage and bruising.

Your stomach dropped as he lost control of his wings for a moment, and the two of you dipped into a free fall for a few seconds. You felt his searing cum fill you as you screamed into his chest. The confusing sensation of falling and his cum filling your womb slammed you into another unexpected orgasm. You bounced in his arms as he steadied the two of you. 

“Heath!” you gasped, your nails digging into his neck. 

“It’s okay, teacup, I’ve got you,” he muttered as he titled his wings, and the two of you streaked across the city. 

Instead of heading home, he deposited you on the roof of a tall building downtown. 

“Wait here,” he said, zipping his fly, and before you could say anything, he swooped away. 

When he returned a few minutes later, he was holding a bottle of champagne. 

“Where did that come from?” you laughed as he settled next to you and tugged you into his lap. 

“I stole it from a party going on down there,” he chuckled. “Don’t worry, they have plenty.” 

You giggled, leaning back into his chest, while he popped the top, aiming the spray off of the edge of the building, before tipping a little into your mouth.

There was a pop, and fireworks exploded in the sky across the city. 

He turned you around to him, slipping something out of his pocket.

"I wanted to do this tonight...but things didn't go quite as planned..." he said, appearing suddenly nervous.

You tipped your head to the side, confused until he opened the little box in his hand revealing a pretty ring.

"Heath!" you gasped your hand going to your lips.

"(Y/N)," he said. "Since the day I hired you, my world changed. At first it was just a fantasy crush. I mean, as your boss...I felt like it was wrong to act on it...but something about you is irresistible. It was impossible not to fall in love with you. Impossible not to steal you away.

Then we started dating and for awhile, I thought that was enough...but as the year went on...I realized I was happier than I'd ever been and you seemed...happier than I'd ever seen you...So...I want to make this permanent. If...you want that..."

Your eyes danced from the ring up to Heath's eyes. More fireworks bloomed in the sky, and you could see them reflected in Heath’s dark irises.

"Are...you asking me to marry you, Heath?" you asked.

"I guess I forgot the most important question," he said, giving you a shy chuckle. "(Y/N), will you marry me?"

Tears filled your eyes again, but this time for the best reason.

"Yes! Of course! I love you, Heath! I want to be with you forever!" you said.

“I love you, too (Y/N). Happy New Year,” he said quietly, slipping the ring out of the velvet and slipping it on your finger.

“Happy New Year, Heath,” you said tucking your head into his cozy shoulder and watching the fireworks make your engagement ring sparkle.

[angelltheninth]

Wild Side

Pairing: Male Gargoyle x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, size difference, size kink, established relationship, biting, marking, voyeurism, dirty talk, pet names, masturbation, tongue fucking, fingering, cunnilingus, tail fucking (clit stimulation)

Word count: 1.9k

Ao3

A/N: This is the first time I'm dipping my toes into this kind of stuff. There's not nearly enough gargoyle smut out there for how hot they are. I wanna fix that.

It was a little past midnight when you got tired of waiting in your room on the rainy night. He was supposed to be here already. Perhaps he didn't wake up tonight? Or something happened to him?

No, no, you couldn't think like that, he'll be here, he always visits you, every night without fail for months now. He'll be here you just needed to have patience and wait.

You lasted about 10 more minutes before you threw the covers off yourself in horny frustration. By now your body was like a clock, getting horny at midnight when you knew he visited. You glance at the window, at the raindrops falling against the glass, at the thunder illuminating the sky in hopes of seeing a flying figure. Nothing, and he was almost impossible to miss.

Thunder cracked outside of your window again, masking your groan as you lifted your nightgown enough to leave your thighs bare, purple hand marks visible around them, very big hand marks at that.

Already wet it was easy for you to push two fingers inside of yourself, it was easy, you were used to so much bigger by now. So your fingers, or any of the toys you had in your collection paled in comparison to his cock.

"Started without my dove?" A voice boomed through the room, cutting through the storm as well as your whimpers. You managed to open your eyes enough to look at the hulking figure perched on your open window. "Couldn't you wait for me?" He asked with an amused smile and a tilt of his head to the side, his fangs shining in the lightning, his horns which curved along his skull then ended upward nicking the window frame.

Instead of stopping you spread your legs and bent your knees, giving him a full view of your fingers going in and out of your you, and your puffy folds squeezing around them with every thrust. You could feel his yellow eyes watching you with great intent.

"You were late. It's not my fault. I was horny." You pulled your gown over your breasts, your nipples stiff thanks to the cool air coming through the window.

"At least you're honest. I appreciate that." He slowly stepped down and closed the window, his large dark gray wings unfurling behind him. Now that he stepped a little closer you could see the droplets of rain still sticking to him, dripping down his long black hair, down his back, over his muscular chest and abs, vanishing into the leather belt keeping his torn pants up. "I'm sorry about being late dove, the storm delayed me a little. I had to watch out for your planes, they're really pesky this time of year."

He waned to explain himself, to say he was sorry but that's not even remotely what you needed right now. "Apologize later. Right now I need you to get over here."

His tail excitedly swished behind him, his ears perking up to catch all the little sighs and wet sounds echoing around the room. "I could smell you even through the stormy skies. You need me." He cupped his cock, it strained in his pants, twitching in from in anticipation, "You need this."

You didn't even bother denying it. There was no point. He could see you, hear you, smell you. You pulled your fingers out, they were shining with slick arousal, temping the gargoyle closer. His pants were almost torn apart by his claws, making a soft thump as they hit the wooden floor. "I always need you handsome." You chuckled as he crawled over you, the bed creaking under his weight as he cupped the back of your head with his clawed hand.

It was almost funny how before you would shake under his touch, but not it was the most comforting thing in the world to you. As he combed his fingers through your hair you pressed your wet fingers against his lips. His warmth and smooth skin came as a surprise at first, as did his abnormally long tongue which he loved to use on you. He loved your taste, loved cleaning your fingers, licking around and between and sucking the digits clean of your cum.

You sneaked your arms around his neck as he settled between your legs, his hard cock laying on your stomach. He was already leaking cum, lots of it too. He was just as worked up as you, "Did you fly here with a boner?" You couldn't help but laugh into his neck, kissing his jaw next, your hands traveling up his horns then back down to hold him still close.

"Perhaps." He grinned against your cheek, "Would it turn you on more or less to know that I dream of you while I'm stone?"

You pressed your lips against his, licking into his mouth, your tongue running over his fangs, electing a purr from him as you rubbed your slick pussy on his length, "Does that answer your question?" Judging by his cock throbbing he more than got the answer he wanted out of you. "Need me to take care of that for you?"

"Always. But before that," He pulled back to take your gown off over your head and tossed it across the room. His eyes raked down your breasts, across your stomach and between your legs. "I want to eat my fill of you." He cupped your butt in his hands, and lifted you up, folding you in half, your cunt in his face and your legs falling over his muscular shoulders and interlocking between his shoulder blades. "You smell so sweet."

He flicked his tongue over your clit, the button of nerves twitching against the appendage. Careful not to hurt you with his sharp fangs he puts his mouth on your pussy, his tongue sliding in, its slick thickness filling you up while his tail taps and flicks your clit in tandem.

The way he holds you up, while making it easy for you to ride his tongue it also prevents you from reaching out to him and hugging him close, which is what you've been craving all night. You felt his cock pulsing against you, his cum smeared and trickling down your stomach and between your breasts. With one last dip of his tongue you came into his mouth, bucking your hips wildly into his mouth and against his tail. He drank every last drop of you, his hums sending more vibrations through your body.

"I need to have you my dove, I'm sorry, I can't wait any longer." Truth be told neither could you. His tongue was heavenly, you always loved it when he ate you out, but what you really wanted was the big, throbbing dick between his legs.

You let his tail wrap around your thigh, his hand laying on your back, covering it in its entirety while the other came to rest on your cheek, or the entire right side of your head really, "I'm ready. Please take me." You've been ready for hours now, and now finally you were gonna get what you wanted so desperately.

He was always careful when he entered you, well aware of the difference in size. What was normal for him was fucking huge by your standards. You were so small, so fragile in his hands. He would break you in half if he wasn't careful. Thankfully you were both very much lubricated by now, his pre and your slick mixing together, allowing him to slide in, half of him fitting inside very snugly.

Your pussy was so full of him, stretched out around his cock, feeling his cockhead deep inside you. You were more than certain he could break your hips with his thrusts if he wasn't careful.

A gasp fell from your lips as he dragged back then sank back in, your walls accommodating him, his girth sinking in with less and less resistance each time. "You feel like heaven around my cock. I won't even get enough of you." He growled as he leaned down to your neck, his teeth pressing against your skin. "You still carry my scent on you."

"I always will." You held him tighter and hooked your free leg around his back, right above the base of his tail. "You should already know I'm yours. Inside and out." You were yours since the night he first woke up and laid eyes on you, since he first kissed you and pulled you into his lap, opened your pussy up with his cock and came inside you.

His nose nuzzled your neck, his longue tongue licking the spot he bit down on moments after. The pain shot through you and all the way down to your clit and cunt. Your walls fluttered around his cock, trying to pull him in deeper despite knowing you couldn't. Your juices' dripped down his length and his full balls as he held your shaking body against his firm muscly form.

"Can I finish inside you tonight, please dove?" You could feel he was close by the way his muscles tenses and his tail tightened around your thigh.

"Yes." You whispered a little breathless. As much as you loved being absolutely covered in his cum you wanted it inside this time, you needed it or else you wouldn't be fully satisfied tonight.

His hips snapped forward, his hand leaving your cheek to claw at the pillow next to your head, the tearing sound accompanied by his roar and the thunder clapping outside your window as he flooded your cunt with jets of warm, thick cum. His wings spread out behind him and cast a shadow over the room, as if shielding you, his mate, from anyone's view but his own.

You moaned and sighed against his neck, kissing him, knowing full well you can't mark him in the same way as he does you but always encouraged you to try. You felt like it was amusing to him. "I love you so much." You whispered against his pointy ear, giggling as your breath tickled it and caused it to twitch.

"And I love you, more then anything in existence. My love, my dove, my mate." He pulled out just as slowly as he sank in, the fountain of cum flowing freely between your legs. His eyes narrowed, displeased that it's not staying inside as he wanted it too.

You smiled at him and shook your head in amusement, "You'll get more chances to creampie me big guy don't worry." You pull him into a firm kiss, your eyes closing in bliss at the same time.

He purrs at the thought, his chest rumbling against yours. When he pulled away he leaned to kiss your cheek as he used the sheet to wipe you down between your legs. Normally you'd protest but you knew by now that he would never leave you cold. As the dirtied material hit the floor he laid on his side and pulled you against his chest, his tail coiling around your your hip, one hand on your shoulder, the other on the back of your head and his wings falling over you like a blanket.

You kissed the expanse of his chest, "See you tomorrow night." You smiled as you closed your eyes and let your head hit the pillow.

"Tomorrow night. I'll arrive on time, I promise." And he never ever broke his word. You feel asleep not to the thunder and rain, but feeling his deep breaths, his chest rise and fall against you and his muscles rippling with each breath under your fingers.

[harveywritings92]

[R/n and Gaz teaching Gargoyle Ghost and Soap about Halloween and are showing them how the make Jack-o-lanterns, Ghost and Soap use their claws while the humans use carving kits.]

Gaz, Showing off his classic Jack-o-lantern.: Okay! Lemme see how yours are going?

[Ghost, looks at Gaz's pumpkin then at his perplexed, he shows his pumpkin which looks drunk. the right eye was a swirl the left was round and wide and the smile was all crooked.]

Ghost: I think I messed up mine...

Gaz: No, it looks good! I doesn’t have to be perfect! *looks at Soap* Ok, Johnny, let’s....Where’s your Jack-o-lantern?

Soap, who’s munching on something while covered in Pumpkin juice and guts.: What lantern??? 

[Ghost face palms]

Gaz:....Right, R/n let’s se...Oh, wow!

[Everyone gawks as R/n shows that they’ve carved Venom's face into their Pumpkin.]

R/n: It’s not my best work but-

Gaz: If that’s not your best work? I’m retiring from pumpkin carving all together!

{Ghost and Soap (Who was now eating Ghost's pumpkin) nod in agreement)

[golden-headband]

Nap Time

Eternal Servants AU belongs to @emelinstriker

Scenario: Reader wants to sleep. Needs to have their favorite fur covered boys to sleep well.

You were lying down, trying to go to sleep. And yet it elludes you like water from a ducks back. You knew you were tired, yet your mind refused to turn off in order for you to get your REM sleep.

You finally breathed in and give a sigh of defeat. Lifting your head from the pillow and looked up. "Guys? Could you-?"

"Yes Master!?" Macaque knelt before you, at eye level where you were lying in the couch. You stared at him. Bemused at his speed. "Can i ask you, Wukong, and MK to come here for a sec?" That order request did not take long to be fulfilled.

"Is there something we can do Master?" MK asked, looking up at you. "It's not a big deal, just a lil thing." You assured the three monkey champions kneeling in front of you. " Um... Can I ask you guys to just... Lie next to me? Like. One on each side? I'm more used to my cats lying next to me while I go to sleep and uh..." By the look on their faces, they could feel your sorrow from missing your pet. You took in a deeper breath, held in your chest as you tried to speak. "I just need some company while I go to sleep."

" of course" you were so tired you couldn't tell if it was Wukong or MK saying this. You knew it wasnt Macaque since he wad always so loud and eager to please you. Eventually you felt Wukong on your left and Macaque on your right. Both nuzzling into your shoulder and side respectfully. MK was clinging to you while burrying his head into your chest. Right over your heart. All of whom had their arms wrapped around you ans their tails wurled either around your legs or your waist. It was... Soothing. In no time your eyes closed, and you drifted off to sleep. Feeling comfort in those around you.

And when you felt Wukong place a kiss on your head, it was over. You heard his voice before going straight into dreamland. "Have a good night Master."

[terato-is-life]

A gargoyle protects a young lady from a stalker as he hides her inside an abandoned church.

Turns out she is the same girl who used to talk with him as a child, but she doesn't remember him.

[that-one-weird-simp]

Gargoyle Au Demons

Hashiras

Muzan:

has curled ram horns wings work like a beetles, no joints on the wings except for the base. *like in the picture tail is based off his spiky tentacles mouths and teeth along his tail the red on his legs is scaly and hard. (forgot his arms but there the same on his arms.) height is 6'0 dick size: 9 inches, thicker at base but thins out at the tip rounds: around 5 possessive and very aggressive. will make sure you have his scent all over him so no one can clam you. his mating dance: crouches as he spreads his wings and rattles them while purring, if your a gargoyle you would do the same and flea bite his neck. as a human you would just nod you do something to show approval. wing span: 20 ft and 8 inches Kokushibo: Horns go straight up but curl back near the top purple scales along his tail, wings, arms and legs a crescent moon on the tip of his tail wings are like a bats but are scaly with black outside and purple on the under side wings span: 30ft and 10 in height: 7'4 dick size: 10 inches thin near to the tip but thick at the base passive unless provoked and possessive leaves marks and his scent all over you is clingy and will wrap his wings around you in a protective embrace mating dance: goes on all fours (they can switch from Bipedal to Quadrupedal) spread his wings but the wrist joints on his wings will tilt down, wave his tail from side to side while purring. gargoyle: copies the dance and press you forehead on his human: shows some sign of approval

Douma: straight horns that curl a little wings:

{picture}

riggied like ice on the ends but soft and silky fur for the rest of it.

gold fur along his tail, arms and legs his tail has golden feathers with the blood stain on the tip (pretty much the pattern you see on doumas head) the tail feathers are 9 feet wide and 10 feet tall. playful and passive unless provoked, will bite marks all over your body and rub his scent all over you height: 7'2 wingspan: 28 ft and 12 inches dick size: 9 inches, medium thickness from base to tip mating dance: will flap his wings and tail feathers while making playful noises and gives you small gifts (like really unique leaves, rocks, ETC) gargoyle: joins and gives him a small kiss on the cheek human: gives kiss on the cheek Akaza: double bat wings pattern scales along his arms, tail and legs traditional gargoyle horns. a snowflake at the end of his tail height: 6'8 wing span: about the same as kokushibo aggressive and very protective and makes sure he marks your body dick size: same as doumas just a little thinner dick size: 8 inches mating dance: switch to Quadrupedal and flaps his wings and tail while making soft low frequency noises gargoyle: copies dance but makes a high pitch gurgling human: shows approval

hantengu clones: all have feathered wings with there color scheme on the tip of the feathers. ex: sekido has red tipped feathers urogi is gonna look different, instead of the bird like legs its furry gargoyle legs. all have black fur along there tails and limbs all have the same wing span and dick size. wingspan: same as kokushibo and akaza dick size: about the size of douma bit thins out near the tip they have big feathers on there tails with there colors on the tips. horns stay the same sekido: aggressive and possessive urogi and karaku are like douma Aizetsu (my baby boi) is passive unless provoked all will mark you with there scent (can't have them all at once if you have more then one mate then they will fight over you) mating dance(s): urogi and karaku gargoyle and human: very confused and a little scared at first but will approve Aizetsu: will got to quad and stomp his arms on the ground instead of his feet gargoyle: will copy and flea bite his colar bone human: laugh a little and shows approval sekido that but he is swinging his tail instead gorgoyle: copies and rubs head against his like a cats human: pats his head

Rui: no nsfw for him cause he's a child wings are spider like and walks like a wyvern when he is in Quad position and uses them to climb white silky fur along his tail and limbs. the tip oh his tail mimics a spiders His tail basically wing span: 20 ft has the circle marks all over his body (you know that marks that are on his face) height is: 5'5

Enmu horns are curved inward at the base then curved out at the top mixture of black fur and scales along his tail and limbs. wings are bat like, black with blue along the edges blue eyes with the dream kanji litter his tail with a massive claw at the end of it. very possessive and aggressive has a double set of jaws wing span is the same as rui's just a foot larger. dick size: 9 inches thins out at the tip and medium thickness at the base height: just a couple inches shorter then muzan mating dance: This but purrs and goes on all fours with his wrist joints pointing down and tail slowly swaying from side to side

Gyutaro and daki No nsfw for daki cause she is also a child daki has big feathered wings while gyutaros wings are bat like both horns are traditional gargoyle horns gyutaro has scales along his tail and limbs he has a double sided sycles at the tip of his tail daki has silky white fur that fades to a green along her limbs and tails. daki has multiple tails (like five atleast) all are flate and really strong she can wrap them around you with ease gyutaros dick size: same as muzans both there wing span are the same size as kokushibos daki has some cloth wrapped around her breast gyutaros mating dance: will go on all fours with his wings spread and wag his tail as his front with jump from left to right like a playful dog and make playful noises gargoyle: copies and will hug human: starts to scratch his head in aprroval

Extras

they have knots ears are pointed like an elves they make a nest on there stone perch they have inside the midevil mansion you live in somewhere in Europe. there characters were cursed for when they died they become these stone European monsters. (literally anyone that was involved with the war against demons and humans.) there diet is fish (salt, fresh water, or brackish) giant birds, meal worms, blood worms and earth worms. I didn't add gyokko or kigaku you can just use your imagination for what they look like lol. i will do the hasiras next yes they all have powers but they spit liquide plasma all have a different effect Enmu: his plasma is a mixture of blues and purples and will send the opponent to sleep kokushibo: his plasma is as white as the moon and will melt the opponent douma: his is an icy blue that will freeze the opponent for an extended periode of time muzan and gyutaro: there plasma is blood red and very acidic and will melt the opponent daki: she has no plasma but uses her tails for combat sekido: the color of his lightnings he summons in the show, it will electrify the opponent and fry there nerves aizetsu: his plasma is a light blue and makes the opponent go into a deep depression for an extended period of time urogi: pretty much kept his sonic wave scream karaku: his plasma is a light green and is very acidic and can use his massive feathered tail to blow away his opponent like i said, kigaku and gyokko are up to you lol

Let me know if i missed anyone please!