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#my tail go swish swish as i bite
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Lets normalize the inherent romanticism of being bitten by a feral animal-human hybrid. Let your hybrid’s nibble you it means they love you
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catscidr · 15 days
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// taking care of your dogboy (hsr edition!) //
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i. note — sry i havent been posting yall i got a job + ive been working on three cosplays at the same time bc my local con is coming up lmao (´ཀ`」 ∠) however the brainrot never stops. it only takes a break. a little break of approximatively. a month. ish. ......... anyways dog hybrid hsr boys brainrot !!! lmk if we want more of this with more boys •ᴗ• comments and asks are appreciated hehe ii. includes — blade, gepard, boothill and gn!reader iii. cw — slice of life stuff turning into smut, possessive behaviour, overstim, slight dom/sub dynamics, real messy stuff, manhandling. use of the word "hole" to keep reader gender neutral iv. wc — 1,9k
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blade is a mutt riddled in scars and dirty bandages from living on the streets and fighting to survive.
you think he might be some german shepherd mix, but he refuses to let you swab his teeth n gums for a dna test (last time you tried you narrowly avoided a punch to the face. he apologized in his own way afterwards), so whenever people ask, just say he’s a rescue to avoid revealing that you actually just… don’t really know what breed he is. they usually drop the subject and simply go on their merry way, seeing as he wasn’t the type of pup to appreciate affection from strangers anyways– it’s rare for you to leave the house in the first place, though.
you had to switch to a remote job because blade is just so persistent when it comes to you. although possessive is a much better descriptor, because he doesn’t let anyone near you. whenever you leave to get groceries he ends up practically breathing down your neck from how close he gets— acting as if he were your literal shadow— glaring at everyone that gets too close to you. you’ve made it a habit to always go to self-checkout lane so blade doesn’t scare off the cashiers.
the second you get home he’s all over you, determined to rid you of that outside stench and replace it with his own. you started packing your grocery bags in a way that nothing will break if (read: when) you suddenly drop them on the floor, all because you’re so familiar with blade’s impatience.
he holds you still by engulfing your body with his, knees caging your hips as he grinds into you, shallow and deep. blade’s growls and huffs fill your ears just as much as his cock fills your hole, his knot kissing your tightness from the outside.
“do you like this? like how i have to fuck you every time you decide to go outside again when you could stay here,” with me blade omits, his tail swishing back and forth on the bedsheets behind him, the sound just barely grounding you to reality.
your grocery bags were long forgotten on the foor (as they usually are), your mind too foggy to function. clawing at the sheets, you try to crawl away from blade’s grip— to no avail.
he tuts, craning his head to bite down onto the skin where your shoulder meets your neck. “i might just need to mark you for extra precaution,” he bucks into you, knocking the air out of your lungs. you hear squelching, the constant plap! plap! plap! from his thighs smacking against your ass and whine, broken babbles leaving your kiss-bruised lips.
“b-blade, y’can’t- ah,” he shushes you by plugging you full of his lengthy cock, his knot almost threatening to press inside of you. you whimper, feeling lightheaded from a mix of both nervousness and arousal.
he soothes the hickey he left on your neck, licking it languidly as he stills to bask into the way your hole throbs around him. warm and tight and oh so tempting.
“shit, wanna fill you. wanna… have everyone know they can’t have you. you’re mine, mine to love ‘n mine to fuck,” you’re not lucid enough to process his thinly veiled confession, too busy writhing your ass back against him in a feeble attempt to get him to continue moving.
you might want to invest into some good concealer or into those skin coloured tattoo patches to cover the bruises and bite marks blade’ll leave on you if you want to continue being a functioning member of society. you can’t really be walking around in public as if a dog had just mauled you right before you left the house, can you?
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gepard is a golden retriever because of COURSE he is. similarly to blade, he likes to invade your personal space a lot— not because he’s possessive, but because he’s extremely protective of you.
the random bruises you used to randomly notice on your body faded as soon as he came into your life. gepard’s soft, lingering touches healed them; gently placing a hand on your hip before you bump into sharp furniture so it doesn’t hit you, redirecting your head to his shoulder as you nod-off in the train before you bang your head, and so on.
it’s a full-time job and he’s working 24/7, always on the lookout for anything that could possibly hurt you as you saunter off… wherever, without a care in the world— because he took care of everything!
he would clean the apartment for you, cook (though you usually insist you do the cooking; a human doesn’t have the same taste in food as a hybrid), and even act as your own personal alarm clock. gone were the days of being woken up by loud, blaring beeping. gepard woke you up with forehead kisses instead, making your mornings much more pleasant.
but poor geppie, he’s always taking care of you; so take care of him, won’t you?
every so often you’ll sit in his lap to help him get rid of whatever stress he held in his body. your hands will knead at the muscles in his broad shoulders, all while you simultaneously kiss away the strain in his face. his brows are furrowed as you do your best to soothe his muscles; you never forget to smooch his cheek, nose and the corner of his lips.
though the attention and gentle acts of affection always ends with your hands lower than they should be.
“ah ah, no touching, remember?” you murmur in his ear playfully. you had been at it for what felt like hours; gepard’s cock and abdomen was smeared with the remnants of his cum, skin tacky from his previous loads. your hand shows no sign of stopping, not even when he begged oh so sweetly.
“c-come onn. just… jus’ wanna kiss…” and who were you to deny your sweet boy? your lips find his in a heartbeat, his tongue swiping over your own sloppily as he breathes you in like a depraved man.
the only condition you had when you did this was for him to keep his hands to himself— at least until you both decide to move on to something else. until then, his fists clench the sheets beneath the both of you, and his ears stay flat on his fluffy head.
“i’m… i’m close again, g- aah, please, please…!” he begs, cock weeping precum as you continuously jerk him off. you smile, absentmindedly rocking your hips to the rhythm you held him prisoner to— gepard was too engulfed in the warmth of your hand to notice, anyways. “cum whenever you want sweet boy,” you purr, and he keens as he buries his face in your neck, his hips lifting off the bed ever so slightly as they meet your hand and he thrusts, riding the high of his orgasm.
sticky cum coats your hand for the nth time; you relent your grip on his cock for his sake, instead choosing to shower him with chaste kisses all over his face. gepard whines, taking ahold of your waist weakly as he breathes into the crook of your neck.
“geppie, your han-“ he cuts you off, swiftly switching positions so you’re now laying on your back as he hovers over you, chest rising and falling quickly, catching his breath from the intensity of his orgasm. gepard’s tail wags slowly behind him as his hands creep up from your waist to your chest just as slowly- you feel his cock harden against your pelvis, precum spilling from his pinky tip.
“‘ts my turn now,” he huffs, leaning down to nip at your neck.
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boothill is the most obnoxious dalmatian hybrid you’ve ever seen (not that you’ve seen many, or at all). but he’s made your life so fun so you can’t be too mad at him
he’s always dragging you out of bed to go do something— could be going to the park nearby or sit in the living room playing video games on your dusty console, it doesn’t matter because he’ll MAKE you step out of your cozy nest!!
you’re glad he’s friendly, because you’re not sure how you would handle such an excited hybrid when you left the house. people come up to the both of you to chat and he indulges their questions, essentially leading the conversation (while you stand there awkwardly, not knowing what to say).
boothill is also great with kids, unexpectedly. 9 times out of 10 when you go to the park he ends up playing with someone’s child, bright smile on his face as he messes up their hair with a rough hand. they’ll throw a frisbee for him to go catch and he’ll do it happily, or he’ll even… teach them how to beat people up.
(you stare mortified as he teaches a little girl how to throw a proper punch only for her to then punch her parent when she leaves boothill’s side. you go up to them and apologize profusely, forcing boothill to bow with you.)
he also loves to help you out, even though he’s not the greatest at household chores— but he definitely tries! though he is a stellar cook, which never fails to surprise you whenever he’s on dinner duty. he just… really sucks at everything else.
it’s… mostly because he just has so much energy. he sweeps the floor? nope, he’s picking off the pieces of the broom off of the floor because he accidentally broke it. he’s fixing your bed? nuh uh, you’re throwing out the ruined bedsheets because he accidentally tore them to shreds somehow.
so, with all of these accidents happening because he’s just brimming with energy 24/7, you started purposely exhausting him. or, rather, gave him the green light to exhaust you until he tires himself out.
“booth-aah, w-wait, you’re being too…!” you fall over on top of his hard chest, keening at the new angle his cock reached inside of you. he repeated his assault on the spot that made you see stars as your jaw gaped, broken moans leaving your lips.
“don’t tell me y’re tapping out.. haa, already!” boothill grunts, his grip on your hips tightening. he throws his head back with a loud moan, abs tensing as he nears yet another climax— the 5th one of the night. maybe, maybe not. you lost count after the third one.
you bury your face into the crook of his neck, focusing on the feeling of his cock plugging you full instead of the soreness, the burn in your muscles that came from your knees holding you up on his lap.
watching you riding him will always be his favourite thing in the world, even if he always ends up fucking up into you and taking back control at the end of the night.
“gonna cu-uum…” you whine, clenching around his length almost painfully tightly, hearing his breathing hitch as an orgasm is ripped out of him in consequence to yours. boothill’s fingers dig into your ass, his hips lifting off the bed as he cums deep inside of your sloppy hole again, sticky fluid building up beneath the sheets.
you collapse on top of him fully, chest heaving against his own as you come back to your senses, slowly but surely. boothill’s ears perk up, hearing how your breathing had evening out.
“so… got another round in ya?”
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34 / 3.2k / part 2 of shark mermen Gaz and Soap for mermay >:)
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You wake up to the morning sunlight glimmering off Gaz's salt-glazed skin. He's leaning over you, watching you intently with those fathomless all-black eyes.
You gasp and immediately drag yourself away--or try to, given the way his tail is wound under your legs like a snake's. In your haste, you bump up against Soap, who lurks behind you, somehow again taking you by total surprise.
Your heels scrape against sharp gravel as you fight to get out of reach. Gaz's tail coils inward as if to drag you back in, and you almost collapse over it in your scramble. But you finally manage to get out of reach. You stare down at them, your heart pounding in confusion and panic.
Soap smirks like this is the most fun he's had in weeks. His tail swishes in the shallows behind him. "G'morning."
This is a nightmare. A hallucination.
"Don't look so shocked," Soap says. "You've still got all your pieces. You really should try being more thankful. We saved your life."
"Saved my--" You cough and sputter. Salt and sand coat your throat. "You tried to kill me!"
"You would've died anyway," Gaz says. His matter-of-fact tone of voice is somehow more terrifying than Soap's high-energy arrogance.
"We were havin' a little look at you," Soap says. "That's all."
"You bit me!"
"Just a nip," Gaz admits. "I was curious."
"I wasn't," Soap says with a flash of his sharp teeth. He looks down at the second set of teeth marks--his teeth marks--on your calf. "That's a love bite."
⬇ nsfw, monster mermen, overt predator/prey dynamics, blood kink ⬇
You pull your legs in, withdrawing further up the rocky beach as you get to your feet. You don't have much space to get away from them. Worse, this tiny cove will be all but swallowed by high tide. The only way out is either back into the water or up the rocky face of the cliffs on all sides. You can only imagine the rock cutting into your bare hands and feet--or worse, climbing halfway up, slipping, and landing on the carpet of glass-sharp gravel.
There’s nowhere to go.
Soap stretches toward you again as you back away. He does it in this motion like a shrug, like he's luring you into a false sense of security by making you think he just happens to be putting his hands near your ankle. He can’t hide how the muscles in his shoulders bunch, wanting to pounce. "You'd have a better chance jumping back into the sea and holding your breath than climbing those rocks, human. Maybe you outswim us this time, even. Want to try?"
"I'll take my chances," you snap. His claw brushes your foot, and you quickly backpedal, climbing up onto the biggest boulder you can manage. It's only about as waist-high, though, and unsteady. Not quite tall enough to boost you toward any solid footholds up the forty-or-so-foot cliffside. Still, you have to try.
Gaz watches with annoyance as you reach for a shallow indent in the rock. "You'll kill yourself. Be reasonable," he scolds.
Your fingers find uncertain purchase in the shallow ridge overhead, and you force your toes to get with the program and grip what might be a rocky shelf to your side.
The two mer watch you haul yourself up a few feet. Soap pushes himself up the beach to get a better view, tail curling. Gaz studies the muscles in your legs. Then he watches your hands grip the rocks. You look even more defenseless in the sunlight, skin battered from exposure and clothes torn from the waves. His eyes follow the curve of your calf to the blood that's dried on your ankle. It looks bad.
He doesn't see you making it high enough for the inevitable fall to kill you, but it irritates him that you're choosing to act like this. You're fragile. Obviously, if he and Soap wanted to kill you, you'd be dead. They did their best to not kill you. He did, anyway.
"You think we'd let you drown when the tide comes in after keeping your fragile human body alive and intact this long?" Gaz calls up.
You ignore this in favor of boosting yourself up another foot. Your fingers slip on the next hold. Gravel clatters down the rock and showers both mer.
Soap smirks. "Gonnae fall, aye?”
Gaz's voice is flat. "Let her."
You make it up another two footholds before you slip.
Soap's smirk morphs into a wild laugh as you topple backward. You land on the rocks, hard, air knocked out of you with a surprised gasp. Both mer prowl toward you.
You dig the heels of your hands into the wet sand to scramble to your feet again. A sudden, sharp pain makes you hiss. You rip your hands out of the gravel to see a shard of curved glass sticking out of your palm of your dominant hand. Blood stains the base and wells up, trailing down your wrist.
Soap clocks the smell of blood. "What d'you want to try next, hmm?" he muses, tail swishing behind him. "Hurry up before the tide comes in or that cut'll attract somethin' unfriendly."
You glare at him. You want to scream. Or cry. You need help, but what are the chances the rescue boats will come back this way?
"So?" you snap, hiding your hand against your chest as he leans closer. "What does it matter to me if you eat me or something else does?"
"We don't care to eat you," Gaz says. "And if we did, we wouldn't share."
"Don't know about that, Gaz," Soap purrs. "You think she looks delicious, don't ya?"
You look from one to the other, still clutching your bleeding hand. "Why would you bring me here if you didn't want to eat me?"
"Curiosity." Gaz's eyes dart back to your face. “I told you.”
Frustration burns in your chest. "You bit me. You dragged me around the water. What else is fucking left to be curious about?"
Gaz hesitates. To him, you are a sight. Tattered clothes clinging to your damp body, he can see more of you than when he first spied you on that little boat, sitting so carelessly with your legs dangling in the water.
He stares at the bite wound on your arm. It's not just a “nip” like Soap’s--it's deep. A bite that left a deep, dark, ugly mark surrounded by a ring of dark blue-purple bruising. It will scar. The memory of his teeth will always be in your skin. He can still taste you: fresh adrenaline, copper blood, and seawater.
"What you feel like." His voidlike eyes are half-lidded, his voice soft. "Up close."
You glance back at him, your heart pounding. You're defenseless right now--you have been since they threw you onto this beach. So there has to be some truth to what they're saying, right? You remember reading somewhere that sharks are curious. That they sometimes investigate with their teeth, biting without any real intent to injure. So... maybe...
Soap leans in behind you and skims his clawed fingertip up your arm, his voice just past the shell of your ear. "We can take you back to shore, easy. We just need to clean those wounds. How about it," he purrs into your ear. "Gonnae help us help you?"
You shy away from his touch, feeling goosebumps break out all over. "Okay. Okay, fine." You glance down at your hand, then at Soap. "But not... not you."
You look at Gaz, hesitant, but your meaning is clear.
Soap's smirk twists into a frown. "Why not me?"
Gaz snatches your wrist. "Come here, then."
You find yourself pulled into the arms of a shark again as Gaz shuffles you into the crook of his arm. You're awed at how much bigger than humans these shark mer are. He coils his tail under you both. He grips your bloodied wrist in one hand and plants the other firmly on your hip to slide you even more flush against him. Any protest you had dies in your throat as he repositions your injured hand in his and plucks the glass out in a single, rough motion. A gasp punches out of you. The noise has Gaz pulling you closer, his arm wrapped tight around you.
You tense up, watching the claws on his hands very carefully, but he seems to maneuver you in such a careful, conscientious way to keep from hurting you with them that, once he has you positioned on his tail, you relax somewhat. They really are being careful with you, you realize. Some of the tension leaves your shoulders. You breathe out through your teeth. You can let this happen. Some people would love to be in your position, even. There's something tender but not quite gentle in how he grips you and how his thumb presses into your thigh.
He tucks your head under his chin. A low hum vibrates in his chest. Something about the sound is soothing. Or at least distracting enough that you don't notice him moving your hand to his mouth until his hot tongue laves over your wound.
Your blood--in his mouth--and roaring in your ears. How did you let yourself be tricked into letting a shark lap up your blood while he’s holding you close enough that you can see the beads of sea water clinging to the scarred ridges of his chest?
Even Gaz is somewhat surprised at the way his tongue instinctively scrapes over your wound to stem the blood flow. It's not an entirely animal compulsion to lick the wound clean--it's a practical enough way to clear away the blood. Tasting you is a bonus. That's what he tells himself as he trails his tongue down your arm to catch what's dripping down in rivulets to your elbow.
You squirm at the sting. Gaz tightens his grip.
"Is that all you were curious about, then?" Soap asks, sliding closer. He's talking to Gaz but looks down at you with glimmering solid blue eyes.
"Steady," he breathes, his voice still rough. He can smell your nervousness. He can feel your heart pounding. "She's got cuts all over. Let me..."
You feel his hands begin to peel away your tattered clothes and slide under them. You bite down on a squeal, grabbing his wrist. "Hey--!"
Before you can voice your protests fully, Soap's fingers brush the small bite mark on your ankle. You jolt, pulling your legs away and hugging them to yourself. Distracted by this, Gaz lets his free hand glide over the outside of your leg. His calloused fingers follow the curve of your hip, your thigh, your calf. He tugs your leg free so he can study the underside, too. He runs the pads of his fingers all the way back up to the bend of your knee, along the flesh of your hamstring, across the inside of your thigh. You shiver.
At the same time, Soap tugs at the bottom of your tattered shirt with interest. "Why d'you humans wear cloth? Is it because your skin is too thin?" Before you can reconsolidate yourself enough to answer, he scoffs. "All the good it does you. Shreds easier than seaweed."
“Mm,” Gaz agrees absently. He shifts you so your back is back braced up against his chest, your legs bunched up atop his tail. This way, he can keep you here and keep his hands free. He’ll have as much access to you as he needs.
At this angle, you feel rather than see the smooth dark planes of Gaz's chest and stomach. It should be wrong to notice the scars that run over his arms as they pass over you. Or the way his muscles ripple under your back. His body is a dichotomy: warm to the touch and smooth as fine silk, but rough and coarse with scars. Plus there’s the shark half.
Soap snatches up one of your ankles. He prods at your foot. "You get around on these?"
You huff. "When I can, clearly."
He runs the edge of one of his claws over the top of your foot, follows the arched bone underneath, and presses into your instep. He pokes and prods and presses hard on the ball of your foot with a curious look. "Must be slow."
"Doesn't have to be fast," you mutter.
"Then how d'you catch food?"
"I don't have to catch my food."
"You're a predator, though. You've got eyes facing forward."
"I can hunt what I need to hunt.” Salads and instant noodles, but you don’t bother saying that.
"That's good." Soap's hands slide to your toes. He finds it weird how your feet sort of resemble his hands. Little fingers and claws and everything. "As long as you've got prey slower and smaller and softer than you are."
"If that's even possible," Gaz says.
You scowl. Rude.
Gaz seems to enjoy your sour reaction a little too much. "I suppose your prey must be stupid, too."
"Watch it."
A smirk plays at his lips as his gaze flicks down to the rest of you, curled up on his lap in his arms. "Do you think you can make me? What'll you do--scratch me with your claws?" He laces your fingers with his. Your soft, blunt human fingers and his thicker, sharper, callused ones. "Bite me with your razor-sharp teeth?"
"Maybe."
"How vicious." He nudges your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. "Go on, then."
You consider it. Then you realize it would just prove his point, so you turn your face away with a huff. You wish you'd paid more attention to all those National Geographic specials about mer. You don't specifically remember any real-life cases of shark mer eating humans, but there are definitely made-for-TV movies about it.
Soap's hands creep up to your calf. His thumbs prod your shin and then your kneecap. "I can feel her bones," he says in surprise.
"We both have bones.”
"Well, yours are like rock. Ye got thin skin, hard bones. 'Cept your claws." Soap's fingers wander up your bare legs past your kneecaps. When they make it to your thigh, he grips it with his whole hand and squeezes lightly.
He's fascinated--amazed, even--by your body. It's almost enough to make you feel self-conscious, but everything you'd cover up is a fascination for them. Bumps, stretch marks, pock marks, folds, fat, stubble--you feel yourself tense up when hands wander to those parts of yourself you've learned to be ashamed of, but they don't react. Of course they don't, but still. It feels strange.
Gaz notices your discomfort. He keeps his grip light and loose on you, but his eyes linger on the flesh of your thigh in Soap's hands, the way your skin dimples under the pressure. "It's like a seal,” Gaz says.
"My thigh is like a seal?"
"Soft and blubbery,” Soap adds. "And seals are delicious." He leans down and pinches a bit of skin in his teeth.
You squirm a bit at the harmless little nip, but moreso at the way his hand slides a little too far up your thigh. You put your uninjured hand over his to stop it from going any higher.
Unfortunately, that just seems to draw his attention to what might be up there. His eyes flick up to your shorts. "What is it?"
"Nothing."
"Doesn't seem like nothing." He grabs the hem of your shorts to slide them higher.
You grab his hands. "Hey!"
He grins. "You're a bit twitchy.”
"That's not allowed," you tell him, face burning.
"Isn't it?" Gaz says. He loops his long fingers under your thigh and lifts it up as if to give Soap more room. "Whose rule is that?"
You quickly snap your thighs shut anyway, curling your legs into yourself as best you can. "My rule. Don't touch."
A low noise of frustration rumbles in Soap's chest. "Why do humans cover up so much?" His hands slide up your outer thighs, and he bends until his face is almost level with your stomach. His frown deepens as if this were the thing he was really curious about. "Just let me look for a second."
"Absolutely not."
"Waste of nice soft human skin," he mutters. "Hiding it all away."
“Let us in,” Gaz says.
“No.”
"Not even me?" he asks.
"No."
They both frown.
"Why not?” Gaz asks. “What are you keeping there?"
You huff. "It's my-- my reproductive things. Happy?"
"Your... reproductive things." Soap furrows his brow and turns his head to Gaz. "Reproductive like a fish?"
Gaz's fingers continue to squeeze your inner thighs in slow, deliberate motions. "No," he says after a beat. "Like a mammal."
"Ah. So?" Soap gives you a blank look. "Those are all up inside you then, aye? Nothin' to see."
He takes hold of your knee again. You immediately pull out of his grasp and turn to the side, sitting up on your knees this time as Gaz shifts his tail to accommodate you. "Nothing to see as far as you're concerned," you respond, curt.
Soap continues to leer at you, but his prodding is less insistent at your clear refusal. "Just tell us then. Where is it exactly? In the front? Or the back?"
You cross your arms. "None of your business."
"Don't humans mate for fun?" Soap asks.
“I didn't say that.”
"They doooo," Soap singsongs. He smiles and bares his teeth, the sharp points on his canines glinting in the light.
All the heat that had gone out of your cheeks comes rushing back in. " Do you?"
Soap grins again in that annoying way. "We do. Very fun. So what's the big deal?”
"We're not mating is what," you snap. You push yourself off of Gaz’s lap and stumble a bit, catching yourself with a splash into the deepening tide. "When are you taking me back home?"
Soap looks disappointed at the possibility of being deprived so suddenly of his new toy.
Gaz frowns too. "Now you're talking like you didn't enjoy yourself." He pushes himself up and follows you into the water, his fins cutting through it smoothly. "But a deal is a deal. We’ll take you back to shore. Once night falls, of course."
"But it's morning!"
"So it is." Gaz circles your legs, forming a crescent around you as he comes to a rest on his side in the shallow water. He smirks at you like he finds your confusion endearing in a tedious way. "Night will come again. We've got time until then."
"But the tide will come in," you remind them, casting a look back at the tiny little cove.
"It will,” Gaz agrees.
You don't like the way his smirk grows. Soap grins, too.
A slow realization that you're being toyed with comes over you. "What am I supposed to do, then?"
Gaz's smirk turns to a lazy little grin to match Soap’s. "Keep letting us entertain you.”
You hem and haw, but ultimately, when they pull you back into the shallow water with them, you don’t fight it. You’d rather conserve your energy.
Soap's hands join Gaz's, running up your strange human legs again. "We're going to keep her. Right, Gaz?"
"Of course," Gaz murmurs. The sea doesn't like to release its gifts. "Why would we bother leaving a catch intact without keeping it?"
...
part 1 / [part 2]
more Gaz / more Soap / more mer au / masterlist tag
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carolmunson · 8 months
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you get me closer to god | kas!eddie (dark)
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entry for my fall frenzy requests. this request comes in from @edsforehead: 'something with kas!eddie in a graveyard.'
a/n: y'all, i don't know. i kind of snapped with this one. sort of canon compliant. inspired by a post that i saw that said that after vampires feed they have an insatiable desire to breed afterwards. steve also makes an appearance cause i love him.
tw: 18+ MDNI, dub-con, dub-con, dub-con (reader does get into it). use of hypnosis, coercion. blood play, blood drinking, biting. very obvious power dynamics at play here. death of minor character mentioned. p in v smut, rough and sensual. oral (f-recieving), monster-type-fucking. mild chasing trope. some religious elements if you squint??? anyway i listened to closer by nine inch nails on a loop for this if you wanna know the general vibe. let me know if there is anything i missed and need to put on here!
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October 31st, 1998
Your niece had a better haul than you ever did at this age, it seemed like every house on the fancy side of Hawkins was giving out full size candy bars. No one ever gave you full size candy bars. The Harrington's had outdone themselves this year, hoards of kids picking out wrapped caramel apples and passing out spiked cider to the parents. Humming and smiling while the adults hugged their parkas to their chests, kids running up and down the stairs of the cul de sac of Hawkins Mansions. Decorated to the nines -- you were happy that most of the street would tire her and all of her friends out. "Auntie!" she calls out, hurrying over to you while her pink and purple puffer coat swishes with her. Alycia glitters against the lights of the houses in the dark of the night, the red sequins on her leotard making her easy to find. Your sister-in-law made her a headband fitted with red horns with a pointed tail sewn into the back of the red tu-tu from her Spring recital to match. A Dancing Devil she called it -- for newly six, she was a pretty creative little bug.
"Auntie look," she yells, running into your legs. The spiked cider sloshes in your cup that you hold high over her head so it doesn't spill onto her. She holds up a decorated caramel apple covered in eyeballs made out of sugar.
"Gross, Leesh," you giggle, "It's got eyeballs all over it!"
"They're fake eyeballs, Auntie," she explains like you're stupid, "They're not real eyeballs."
"Oh, thank you for telling me. I didn't know," you giggle, catching Steve watching the two of you chat. Your cheeks burn, that crush from when you were fourteen and he spent the summer working at the mall never fully fading. He's married with four kids now so you should probably get over it. "How're things?" he asks from the curb, coming over to sneak Alycia a couple of Reese's cups. "They're good," you shake your head with a shrug, "They're fine. Out here with the rugrat while her mom's at work." "How's the family, your mom?" he presses, arms crossing over his broad chest that stretch the sleeves of his tan workwear jacket.
"She's doin' okay," you smile tightly, "Always a little hard for her this time of year."
"Five years now, isn't it?"
"To the day," you say with a lilt, "Gonna go visit him after I drop her with her grandparents. My dad'll be so thrilled to steal half her stash."
Your laugh is a little hollow when he squeezes your shoulder comfortingly, he slips a candy bar into your hand, too before saying his goodbyes -- set of twins running around his ankles.
Hawkin's bravest fireman somehow off duty on a night like this turns before you take your niece's hand to leave, "Be careful out there at night. You know it's not always safe."
"You don't believe in all those rumors, do you Harrington?" you laugh.
"Don't have to believe them or not," he says seriously, pushing his wire rims up his nose, "I know they're not rumors."
"Happy Halloween, Steve," you say dully, "Goodnight." You both wave, Alycia's little hand in yours while she rattles off a million words a minute about the skeloton outside of the Sinclair house. The moon glows down over the street, dark clouds slicing it like a broken plate.
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You rarely visit your brother on the day of, especially since there's always idiot teenagers running around the place. Not exactly easy to mourn when some loser in a Scream mask keeps trying to scare you.
It was quiet, your Docs crunching on mid-fall frosty grass -- some of it already half dead with the season. Commotion from the town in the distance had dulled into mostly nothing now that the kids had turned in for the night. Families turning their porch lights out, settling in for scary movies and sugar highs.
You squeeze the bouquet of baby's breath and eucalyptus a little hard in your hands when you walk through the tombstones. The low lamps along the walk way casting the grass and asphalt in a looming orangey glow -- not offering much light beyond their posts. The moon does the work, still looking shattered amongst the thin gray clouds sliding through the sky.
You hear some giggling, the rustle of leaves, the snap of twigs. Always an outlier of kids doing spells or a Ouija board out here this time of year -- old Chief Hopper coming down to make them scatter and take their weed. You walk off the path when you get a decent way in, crossing away from where the cemetary mostly turns to forest. Four 'Happy Birthday To Yous' into the brush and then a left, two head stones, then a right -- it's the third headstone on the fourth row. No light to shine down on you this time, just whatever's left in the sky. You take your big yellow scarf off from around your neck to lay over the grave, giving yourself a place to sit so your spandex covered thighs didn't have to touch the grass. Your mom would kill you if you got grass stains on the red trench she let you borrow -- a makeshift Carmen Sandiego costume if anyone asked.
You sit, laying the bouquet right at the granite edge, tracing his name before letting your hand drop. You don't say anything for a while, letting the cool wet air run over you in waves. You wonder if the wind blowing is him saying hey.
A few cemetery patrons come by, pay their respects to their loved ones and leave. Some superstitious, some religious. They fade out after a while. The loneliness is comforting, just you and your brother hanging out together like before. Despite being six years apart, it felt like you both always had some weird wonder twin telepathy. He was never really one for a lot of words.
"Didn't that guy tell you not to come around here so late?"
You jump at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, turning around to see an even more unfamiliar person. Wild curly waves messy around his face, cut in 80s shag perfection. His face chiseled, jawline pronounced with soft stubble, soaked in fake blood. It trails down his neck and stains the white of the baseball tee underneath a leather jacket; fitted over top with a battle vest that rivaled the metal heads of the 70s.
"Who're you, huh? You following me?" you ask. You swallow nervously, finding solace in seeing a few other cemetary visitors mosying around. The faint giggle of more mischeif causing teenagers in the distance.
"Sorry," he laughs, a warm laugh that meets his eyes, "Didn't mean to scare you. I um, I saw you over by the cul de sac, overheard him say somethin' to you. I was with my little cousin -- dressed like a mermaid, I don't know if you remember."
You think back to Leesh's pal of trick-or-treaters, scanning them in your head to recall a little girl with big brown eyes and a makeshit Ariel costume on under her jean jacket -- covered in patches much like his.
"Yeah," you smile, "I remember. But that didn't answer my question -- are you following me?"
"Nah," he grins, shaking his head, "I'm visiting someone -- this was just a happy accident."
"Oh," you respond quietly, "Who're you visiting if you don't mind me asking."
"My mom," he shrugs, scrunching his nose, "Halloween was her favorite holiday so I always try to come say hi."
"Oh, I'm sorry," you offer in condolences, "Did you um -- did you grow up here? I feel like I'd remember you."
"Nope," he sighs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans while his wallet chain jingles next to his thigh, "Grew up with my uncle."
"Oh, nice," you nod, "Well um --"
"Who're you visiting?" he interrupts, sitting on the gravestone next to your brother's; hardware tinkling prettily as he does.
"Pete," you say, hand out to gesture towards the shiny granite in front of you, "My brother."
"Nice to meet you, Pete," he turns his head, curly hair flouncing over his shoulder, "Pleasure."
You laugh, he laughs with you -- you have to laugh about it or else you'd have to deal with the alternative. You're pretty sure you're all cried out about your brother now.
"What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"
"He worked construction," you shrug, "Took an overnight shift five years ago by the quarry, an' it was Halloween so he was workin' by himself -- no one to spot his safety gear. Must've fallen off the rigs or something and since it rained a lot that year the quarry was basically a lake at that point, hit his head and drowned. His body was completely banged up and waterlogged, they could only ID him from his pass in his pocket."
"Shit," he nods, "That's -- that's fuckin' awful. I'm sorry."
You shrug, "Bitch of living, I guess."
"Hm," he nods, "I wouldn't know."
"What do you mean?" you ask with a cocked head, eyes lingering on him while his linger on you. "Don't worry about it," he smirks, the kind that makes your heart flutter; cheeks getting hot at the sound of his voice. "You know something," you start, "With this whole get up -- and you're not from here so you might not know -- you look just like --"
"Eddie Munson?" he asks, with raised brows, "Yeah, my aunt's been telling me that forever. That's why I sorta dressed up like him for Halloween."
"That's dangerous around Hawkins, especially this time of year," you warn him, standing up from your spot and picking up your scarf. You shake it out to get some of the grass of the underside. You hardly notice the way his eyes trail from your shoes over your calves to your thighs.
"Some people say that he went right to hell after that earthquake since he killed that girl," you explain, shrugging the trench off some to fit the scarf on under it, "And now he's a demon that haunts Hawkins and terrorizes the town."
You both laugh, though his drops to a low and guttural hum. Nearly a growl. You lift your head to see him just a foot in front of you now, and you can really look. You can really see him. The paleness in his skin, tendrilled navy veins raising through it as he leans close to you.
At this distance it's clear that the hollowness in his eyes isn't makeup, but the sparkling brown is sunken into his skull. His brows darkened and determined while he looks at you.
At this distance, it's clear that the blood on his jaw is real.
"They're close," he says with a sly smile, "Really should've listened to Harrington, sweetheart."
You swallow hard, icy sweat in a film on your body while he takes a step forward.
"Those rumors are true."
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The icy air shreds your throat as you run, heaving it in and out in gasps. Your calves scream, thighs aching while you sprint through the brush of the forest; trench and scarf long forgotton somehwere amongst the trees. You try to ignore the way twigs and branches swipe at your face, slicing you and scratching you with unforgiving whips. You let out a cry while you speed, leaping over roots and piles of leaves all while trying to listen with peak percision. Is he close? Is he getting closer? Can he see you?
You stop behind a log near a dip in the earth, rocks above it. Climbing in you heave, trying to catch your breath -- you aren't really made for this. You don't know how girls in the movies can run that long without needing a break.
With a deep inhale in, you hold, using the quiet to try and hear him but there is nothing to be heard. No rustling, no creaks in the wood or in the wind.
You catch your breath, slowly creeping out of your hiding space while the darkness hones -- trees blocking out some of the moonlight. You take a step and then another, trying to make as little noise as possible.
Your efforts are of no use though -- you stomach turns at the sound. The flap of wings, leathery wings -- big. A shaky breath in gives you the courage to turn your eyes up. On one of the taller branches above you he sits, pale and domineering, "Hi, sweetheart."
You bolt again, depserate and sobbing while the cold air is no longer a hello from your brother but mother nature's cruel bite on your wet cheeks. You can barely take in breaths without pain in your throat and chest, turning left and right and left again to lose him but from above he can predict your every move.
When you hear silence again you take another turn, a mausoleum broken down a short distance away. You crawl your way in, wet earth and cement hitting your nose while you gasp and heave for the second time. You listen for the wings for moment, a few moments -- a calm washing over your back when you're sure he's gone.
You take a step back further into the darkness to be sure you're unseen. Deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. One, twice, three times.
Another step back and you bump into a pillar making you jump, a screech wrenching from you.
Not a pillar no, not by the way a set of claw bites into your shoulder.
"Would've been a good hiding spot if it wasn't for me finding it first, right?" he quips, "Bummer." "Y-you can't d-do this," you cry, "The r-rumors are true they'll -- they'll look for me! Steve knows about you!"
"Oh, babe, that's so cute," he muses with a giggle, "Why do you think I'm still here, huh? Steve's just like me, he's bitten too."
"B-but--"
"Why do you think he believes in all those rumors, huh baby?" he asks with a lilt, "Cause he's one of 'em. Well -- not all the way, I guess. Not like me."
"He blows my cover he blows his whole operation," he grins, sharp teeth bearing themselves at you, "Why d'you think he only works night shifts?"
"I -- don't -- I don't," you sputter, "Pl-please d-don't bite me, d-don't eat me I -- I'll do whatever."
"You're too funny," he says in your ear, deep and grizzly while you're rooted to the spot under his clutch, "I already ate, sweet girl. But you'll make a fine dessert."
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You don't know how you get there but it's not like home -- it is but it isn't -- dark and deadly; covered in slithering vines. You're too petrified to ask; but whatever this place was, despite the spores in the air and the rubble from the walls -- it was much nicer than the trailer he grew up in.
"Shh, shh, shh," he coos, claws deep in your shoulder while he wrenches you to a bed covered in plush linens -- satin and full. In the blur around you it could almost be a movie set; the booms of red lightening, dripping pillar candles in heaps around the room.
You whimper at first when his claws release, hot blood oozing against your sweater. The pain pulses like a dull thud, spit flooding your mouth while you move to your side to wretch but he catches you by the root of your hair. You wail in fear, smelling the decay in his breath, the sweet subtle rot of your surroundings.
"It's not polite to cause a scene in a stranger's home, right princess?" he asks with a soft lilt. He holds your gaze, warmth spreading over you when he smirks again -- and despite your fear, you can't look away. You aren't even sure if you want to look away.
Your body goes slack on the comforter, melting into itself like a dropped marionnette. "Very good," he purrs. Hazy, you feel his hands on you -- losing their warmth while they sneak under the hem of your sweater. The pads of his fingers are soft in comparison to the tips of his nails, grazing your stomach and sternum before reaching up to cup your breasts. He lets out a shallow breath, squeezing the delicate flesh softly in his palms -- so gentle despite his rough demeanor.
His thumbs graze your nipples in slow circles earning him a mewl from your dry throat.
"So easy," he giggles in a whisper. You nearly pout when his hands slide down and away from you; beginning the unhurried removal of your clothing. He moves glacially, eyes remaining on yours, wraiths of whispers in a lanuage you don't understand fluttering in the air around you -- in one ear and out the other. Part of you wants to scream and thrash while he slides off your spandex, rips the seams of your panties, destroys your socks.
His clawed hands shred your sweater, snap your bra at the straps until all your clothes are left in a heap on the dusty floorboards by a forgotten desk. He crawls over you like a predator, undressed himself now: some how bigger, more hulking than before. His shoulders are broad, muscles flexing while skin so white it's nearly blue stretches over it. Whatever is down here has completely infected him, you can see it in the color of the veins beneath his skin, the slight red in his pupils, the dark blue hues under his eyes.
His wings lift high around him in an arched half circle, tips appearing behind him like a hybrid of horns and halo at once.
"Could smell you from here," he leers, "since last night. Christ, fucking drooling over you like a kid."
You whimper again, body jolting in pain when his nails pierce your thighs when he parts them. Fresh ichor spilling from the wounds in deep sanguine and he doesn't seem to care about the mess he's making while it drips onto the sheets. His cavalier manuevering comes off as though he likes to play with his food before he eats it.
"And I don't know what it is, angel, how my senses find the right ones," he rasps while he leans forward to your blood soaked shoulder; serpent tongue slipping out to lave over it, "But you really called to me this year; think you might be the one."
"The o-one wh-what?" you sniffle. His tongue slides over the lacerations on your shoulder again, sucking slightly from the new wounds. He lets out a groan, using free hand to rest on the side of your rib cage for support.
He deatches from the well he drinks from, tip of his nose running over your decollatage and up your neck. In inhales over your jugular, pressing a wet kiss under your jaw before getting to your ear.
"The one I mate with, sweetheart," he breathes, "The one I breed."
Breed? You heart sinks like a stone into your belly, body tensing in a freeze while you think of what to do. How to get out of here.
"Wait," you gasp, arms coming up to push at his chest and push him away, "No, please, wait -- you can't."
You push and push but he's a stone pillar, he barely moves, his muscles barely push inward at your assault. He tuts, the click of his tongue between his teeth almost a chitter. He noses your cheek before looming over you, tips of your noses brushing. He catches your gaze again, the whispers start while the air blows in through the broken window. Obedire domino tuo, obedire domino tuo, obedire domino tuo. His lips aren't moving but you can hear his low voice in your ears, barely there, swirling around in your subconcious while the wind whispers with it. Another flash of red lightning illuminates him in a streak, the rumble of thunder vibrating your belly and chest. His hand floats up from your rib cage while you settle, cupping your cheek to slide down to your jaw and over your neck. The touch is nearly comforting, dipping you back into a haze like before.
"You were saying?" he asks.
"Hm?" your brows pinch, his voice muffled and far away.
"That's what I thought," he says smugly, head dipping back down to your neck where his lips drag over your delicate skin. His breath leaves a patch of wet heat that lingers when he moves down over your chest, fangs peeking out behind his full lips when he drags them over the swell of your left breast.
A gentle gasp escapes you, eyes fluttering closed when the tip of his tongue teases your pert nipple, blowing cool air against it once soaked with his spit. He flicks against it again, alternating sides, presses kisses over them in clear ownership. The more he tasted of you, the more it belonged to him.
With each touch and tease of your tits the more you gasp and whine beneath him, he chuckles from his belly, moving down to your sternum.
"And I died a virgin, can you believe it?" he asks with a cocky lift to one of his brows, "Now all I gotta do is smile and girls like you 'll just fall into bed with me."
There's cotton in your ears, all you can do is nod slowly while blood still leaks from your shoulder and thighs. All you can feel is his mouth and hands travel further and further down. The wind howls and the low chant in the back of your head changes tune but in the same cadence; over and over again: vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis.
He licks a stripe up the back of your thigh to catch a bead of blood before it reaches the mattress, savoring you. He feeds from the gouges he left behind for a moment before inching forward to the apex of your thighs. Eddie inhales your scent deeply, the earthly musk of you making his mouth water in a mix of metal and spit. His nose brushes against the untrimmed hair of your mound, ghosting himself over it drunk with attraction.
Your body heats up with mild embarrassment, flexing while your hips writhe slightly underhim. Almost as if he can hear your thoughts he kisses the crease of your thigh, "Nothing to be embarrassed about, baby. Girls don't let it grow like this anymore n' it's such a shame."
You want to speak up and explain it's just 'cause you haven't had the time but your tongue doesn't know how to move anymore. Too tired to speak, too caught up in how he feels, how he touches, how he takes what he wants. You relent again, body relaxing; pliant while he spreads you apart for him a desperate moan pulling from you when his tongue -- still soaked in your blood -- glides from the pool of slick at your opening all the way up to your clit.
You almost gag at the way your body betrays you, sending a spread of electricity over your nerves from your core to your finger tips. "More," you whisper, not even believing you're begging for him, "Please, more."
Eddie's smug in his response, smiling with his eyes while he looks up at you from between your legs, "And good manners? You spoil me, princess."
Your back arches in a soft curve when your hips push back into the mattress, pressing yourself into his waiting mouth. He groans again when your body drips for him, leaving a damp sheen on his cheeks and chin. It's not about your pleasure despite how much of it he's bringing you, but about your consumption. He's devouring you. Licking his plate clean from the outside in.
The moans he takes from you spur him on, getting you further and further away from the fight you put up before. Spilling over for him like a puddle while you writhe, a hand reaching out to rake through his hair. His own reaches up from aroud your thigh to hold you by the wrist tight to your side.
"Hands to yourself," he murmrs, soft lips wrapping around your swollen clit to suck expertly on the bud. You whimper, tugging at his hold but it only makes his grip more intense, pinning you there without much a fight. Not even enough to distract him from the task at hand.
When his tongue sinks back down into your soaking core you feel it, the heat pulsing through your belly while he lets the muscle dip and swirl in your wetness. Your thighs twitch and shake when his nose bumps your sensitive clit, his free hand coming up to gingerly rub circles over it in tandem.
"Oh my god," you whine, "Oh my god -- K-kas don' -- oh my god, ohmygod." He snickers, contining his movements, murmuring a quiet, "God's not here, baby."
Another roll over your hips sends you reeling, his tongue gliding in long strokes when finally the coil in your belly snaps. You fall apart beneath him, loud moans and high pitched squeals while he consumes you through it. Your body vibrates, thighs clamping down over his ears, blood from the slices in your flesh staining his hair and jaw.
He hums low when you settle, gasping for breath on your already dry and scratchy throat while you come down. 
Eddie rises slowly, shoulder blades and wings moving with him while he crawls up your body. Smooth and languid like a snake, his torso hovers above yours while he settles his hips between your thighs. You look up at him, his shape, the way his eyes have blown black, the newfound sharpness in his features. A creature, a monster in your wake — not the same person you saw at the cemetery. 
“Oh,” he coos when he sees your eyes glassy and rounded upon him, “So precious.” 
You're much weaker now, mind and body, the stings across your skin from the broken branches and his sharpened nails a pain you've become better accquainted with. You take another breath of calm, arms resting by your head with your palms up towards the ceiling. He takes the moment of surrender to hold them down against the bed. The pressure of his hips against yours keeps you pinned, but you barely fight -- maybe squirm, maybe whine. No thrashing, no screaming, the whispers echo through the wind again:
Vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis.
"So, so, precious," he whispers while he leans forward, kisses pressed to one cheek and then the other slow and controlled. He inhales again when he dips down to your neck, piercing fangs dragging over the vein there. You feel the push and then the pain, the unbearable blinding pain of his teeth ripping through you. Through your skin, through the muscle, the pulse of his mouth while he holds himself there.
You cry out, nearly a scream while he holds himself there -- just enough to infect you, just enough to get the poison in. The pain reaches a blinding peak, bile growing up your throat, eyes filling with a white hot surge of anguish and then -- Nothing. Euphoria. An unknown lightness you hadn't felt before.
He releases, still holding tight to your wrists above your head when he raises up over you again.
"Open," he instructs, and in your hazy gaze you obey. Your tongue flattens against your chin without command.
"Very good, sweetheart," he praises, collecting the blood left on his lips and in his cheeks to spit it directly into your waiting mouth.
"You can close now," he grins, "And swallow."
He grunts, hips sliding against you so that you can feel his length between your legs; the girth alone sends a chill to the part of you that is screaming inside your head. How is it supposed to fit? How is he supposed to get this inside you? "Don't worry," he laughs, "It'll fit."
When your vision snaps up at him he laughs again, "I can hear you in there, princess. I can always hear you."
He dips down again, tip of his nose sliding over your cheek to your ear, "So be very careful what you think about."
He doesn't need his hands to guide the head of himself into your already needy center. It's a stretch, delicious but nearing painful. It's not something you've ever even dreamed of taking before; thick, large, inhuman.
Your legs lift on their own accord while he pushes in further, getting half way while you let out a choked sob.
"Aw, shh, shh, shh," he mocks, easing in more, "C'mon you can take it."
"You can --" his hips snap in hard for the rest of him, letting out a ragged grunt when the rest of him disappears inside you, "--take it."
You mouth hangs open in a desperate oval, face crumpling when you become so full of him -- all encompassing. A part of you now, buried deep within. He moves, dangerously slow and controlled; methodic in how he thrusts himself deeper and deeper inside. "Mmm, that's it," he growls, chest to chest with him while his hip grind at a deliberate pace. You feel his hot breath fan out over your lips, forehead pressed against yours. He's not hot, he's not cold, just skin against yours while it flashes with heat. You go from shaking to sweating with minutes in between.
When your hips roll to meet his thrusts you moan, the tip hitting you so deep in your core that stars burst behind your eyes. "There we go," he grins mischeviously, "S'at feel good, pet?"
"Ooh, yes," you hiss through gritted teeth, actively trying to bounce yourself againsth him now that your body has started accommodating his sheer size. He raises himself up on his hands like a cobra, snake like peering down at you while he meets the roll of your hips with an unforgiving thrust.
"Good," he oozes the word out like smoke, deliciosly deep seated in his belly when he thrusts hard again. He mumbles a quiet musing to himself that you can't hear -- too gone in the lightness in your body, in the way nothing hurts, in the way you're so full.
Can finally fuck you how I wanna.
He gets up, sitting back on his haunches while still inside you, pushing your legs up so your knees end up by your ears. With this leverage he sinks in deep. You don't even know how far in he is, just that he's in and he's there, he's everywehre, he's outside and in.
Eddie locks eyes with you, that same smirk from the cemetary that made your stomach flip dancing across his devilish features, "Tell me you like it."
Your mouth moves before your brain can hesitate, "I like it." "Tell me you need it," he demands, tone measured and sure.
"I need it," you say back, your voice coming out broken and weak, "Please, I need it."
He pulls back and punches forward, hard enough that you gasp at the impact. He grips you hard by the backs of your legs, thrusts starting slow and building at an unrelenting pace. His eyes are wild; boring down at you through from under furrowed and determined brows. If you had any mind left, you'd think that he hates you by the way he stares.
"Fuck," he snarls, leaning forward over you, one hand pressing down on the mattress next to your head, "Shit -- fuck, that's it. That's fuckin' -- shit, you're fuckin' mine." "Say you need me."
"I need you," you choke back without thinking, barely able to breathe at his speed. The coil tightens deep inside of you again, tears pouring down your cheeks in waves -- not even crying, just recieving. Absorbing him. Your body rocks like a boat on unsteady waves pinned beneath him, the only sounds are the whispers in your subconcious, his growls and sputters like an animal above you. The lewd slaps of skin against skin, the squelches of him pushing you to your limits.
He steadies himself over you, nose to nose again while he fucks you. Really fucks you. Impressed with himself, he lets out a breathy chuckle when you throw your head back -- eyes shutting tight with a pornographic scream.
"Oh GOD!" you cry out, "Oh my god."
His fingers and claws catch your chin with a firm shake, eyes snapping open to meet the knowing glare of his ruddy brown ones.
"Your god," he starts, panting into your mouth, "is right here in front of you."
You swallow, mouth falling agape again when you feel the bite of his nails on the fat of your cheeks. "Right here," you repeat, dazed and overwhelmed, "N'..n'fronname."
"Right here in front of you," he nods, leaning down to brush his nose against yours while his thrusts slow to a steady pace. It's then that his lips meet yours, the kiss searing with desire and claim when his tongue slides into your mouth. You can taste the metallic twang of your blood in his mouth, sighing into it while he guides the kiss. Breaking away and coming back in; rushed and heated each time while he feels himself get closer to his peak.
His forehead presses against yours, one hand finally releasing your wrist to hold your head in place over your hair. You keep eye contact with him, not even sure if you're blinking, if you even need to blink. You rasp breaths, mouth and throat dry and aching while you breathe into him. You're close, teetering on the edge while he pushes you up with his hips to rest your lower body on his knees and thighs.
"Come undone," he murmurs, "Let go for me."
The command ripples through you, bursting through your belly with a warm heat. You welcome it, eyes rolling, cries pouring from you in words you don't think you understand. He encourages you, offering you rough sweet nothings while you pray to him, beg for him, ache for him.
That's enough to send him over; seeing you completely at his mercy now. Obedient, trained, devoured.
He snares and snarls, growling while he comes deep inside of you. The hand on your head wraps painfully in your hair like it did before you started -- uncaring, brutal. The heat of his seed pools deep within you like the heart of your orgasm. Glazed over you groan, hips rolling up in one final cant to receive him fully. Your vision vingettes while he unsheathes from you; fluids leaking onto the sheets. You're empty and the room spins with a new blackness, you're fading. Fainting? Dying?
The fuzziness continues to darken arouns you, around him, until he's all that's left in the tunnel of your vision. "That's a good girl," he soothes smugly, "Very well done."
Your gaze and mind fade fully to a staticky black.
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You wake, you’re not sure how much later. 
Still on the bed and still undressed but your arms feel tight – a tug reveals your current state. Bound to a post on the headboard by a triple handcuff knot, dense hemp rope keeping your arms above your head. 
You whine and struggle, coming to your senses now – no one knows where you are, you barely know where you are. An underworld – hell. Somewhere. 
“Don’t look so terrified, sweetheart,” his smooth honey voice is heard before he appears in the candle light again, “I’m right here.” 
“Wh-why am I –” you swallow thickly, coughing and sputtering with how dry your mouth and throat are now, “Why am I tied up?” 
He looks at you with faux concern, brows raising, “Oh honey, are you okay?” 
He reaches out, pushing your hair away from your face, “Don’t be stressed. Y’know something – I just realized, I never offered you anything to drink.” 
“My uncle always told me you should take a girl out to dinner before makin’ the van rock and look at me,” he gestures at his chest, tutting at himself, “Where are my manners, huh?” 
Your lip wobbles while he looms over you, “Are you thirsty?” 
You nod, he grins – cheshire like, fangs glinting in the light, “I thought you would be.” He gets up, lazy and confident in his walk across the room. His body looks like marble, chiseled with the running and hunting you realize he’s been doing for over a decade. Stronger than ever; ethereal in his post orgasm glow. 
He pulls his hair back while he walks, holding it up away from his neck while your eyes travel down his back where his wings have tucked in under the skin. You gag when you see them move above his blades, rippling beneath the tattoos he has there. He’s dressed in only shorts; silk – likely stolen to really own the whole vampire thing he has going on. 
You take in a shaky breath when he gets what he needs, dropping his hair back to his shoulders when he makes his way back to you. 
He holds the dagger coolly in his hand before gliding the tip down the center of his wrist. Blood blooms from the wound; he doesn’t even flinch. 
“Open, princess,” he murmurs. Your lips clamp shut, shaking your head no while fear takes over – rot in your chest. He catches your chin again, forcing you to look at him like before. 
“Open,” he repeats, slower. His voice reverberates like a gong between your ears. 
Your mouth opens on its own accord and the smell of his blood becomes the most alluring scent you’ve had pass your nose in years. You latch on to the laceration, swallowing and sucking deeply on the wound while his blood and body quench and feed you better than any meal you think you’ve ever had. You feel revived as you devour him, eyes fluttering closed while the fill feels never enough. 
“That’s it, keep goin’,” he encourages under his breath, “Won’t have to keep asking you to do things twice once this is all over with.” 
You break away to breathe, gasping like you’re coming up for air, drowning in him. 
“What do you mean?” 
“I mean you’ll be just like me, sweetheart,” he says, chuckling when you eagerly lean forward to drink him again, “After a night of some deeply insurmountable pain; and then nothing. Just mine. Undead and mine.” 
“But y–you said you were – I’m –” your brows knit in confusion, “You didn’t h-have to d-do this; whatever you um – whatever you bred me with will die if you do this.” 
“Oh, no, no,” he laughs evilly, “I didn’t breed you quite yet.” 
He pulls his arm away, wiping the blood from your chin with his thumb roughly. 
“Consider what we did a, uh…hmm,” he takes a second to think about it with a hum, shrugging cheekily, “A soul bonding experience.” 
“You’re disgusting,” you spit. 
“I’m delicious,” he corrects, smearing his blood from your chin to your cheek, “If you do say so yourself.” 
He gets up again, pulling the covers out from under you to tuck you in. The chill getting to you in a way it never gets to him; you might as well be warm while you turn into actualized death. 
“I can hear you, remember?” he asks, tapping your head, “You won’t be totally alone with me. There’s…shit there are plenty just like us.” 
“Like Steve,” you pipe up groggily. 
“More than just goodie two-shoes Harrington,” he groans, “God, do you ever shut up about him?”
You sniffle in response.
“I mean this place, this – dimension,” he says, “It’s more than just Hawkins, and there are so many more like us; even up there.” 
He points upwards with a sharp nailed finger, “All around.” 
“And now that you’ll be just like me,” he smiles, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you in the crook of you waist, “There’ll be all the time in the world to breed you.” 
Your vision blurs, either from tears or from another fade, you aren’t sure. You can feel a slow burn through your veins, a rush of blood. You whimper. 
“So it begins,” he smirks, running the tip of his finger over your nose bridge. 
“Oh!” he says, eyes bulging, “Before I forget, and before I lose you – because you’ll be such a pretty blank slate when you come to – I felt like I should be honest.” 
He gestures dramatically, a maniacal grin pushing his cheeks up to his eyes while they spark, “Again with my manners, it was so rude of me to introduce myself to Pete’s grave at the cemetery. We’ve met before! Can’t believe I had almost forgotten.” 
Ice in your body fights the burning in your veins, you gag, bile coming up to singe your throat. 
“And y’know, I didn’t mean to drop him in the quarry when I was done with him,” he says with a scrunch of his nose, like he accidentally wrote the wrong tip on a restaurant check, “Really, my mistake, but Christ did he hit every piece of limestone on the way down.” 
He lets out a hearty laugh while he remembers it, your brother's body bouncing off rocks and metal before slipping under the water. You swallow your sick only or it to rise back up with a vengeance, staining your skin red while it seeps out of the corner of your mouth. You tug on the ropes in retaliation, hot angry tears stinging your eyes. 
“All that fallin’ did a number on him – which is good because it really took the heat of anyone knowing it was me. I just wasn't as clean about it back then. Much better now though,” he nods, finishing with a superior and charming look like he just told a bedtime story. 
He leans forward close to your face while your vision pulses in fuzzy black, browning out while he looks down at you. 
“And I’ll tell you something, babe…” 
Fading, fading, fading.
“He tasted divine.”
masterlist | fall frenzy | ko-fi
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cosmicstarlatte · 1 year
Text
Taking His Virginity (Obey Me!)
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━━━━━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━━━━━
You take his virginity. How does he react?
minors/ageless/blank blogs dni or get blocked :c
»Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Levi, Beel, Dia
»Tags: ⚠️ 🔞 NSFW (18+), GN Reader/MC, Clingy-ness, Fluffy and smutty, Mentions of blood, biting, scratching, Rough, Manhandling(?)
»Notes: I will leave this here though, cya guys whenever! Super excited for Nightbringer tomorrow!
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Lucifer:
"It's the last part left of my...angelic...side."
The thought of him getting that intimate with someone was...unnerving. That was the last part of him he had left that was in his control. He never cared if someone had found out about it, but due to how private he was, it never came up. And rumors always seemed to think otherwise. Over the years, he had entertained the thought of just getting it over with, but ultimately decided to just wait until he felt comfortable enough with someone. Someone worthy.
~~~
Lucifer underestimated the act of sex. He could not get through foreplay in his human form, he shifted into demon form and you let him know it was okay. He tried to stay quiet but groans/grunts escaped his lips. He was eager, his wings wouldn't stop flapping, which made for an interesting time but you both had fun. One night was just not enough, he could not get enough of you! He asked for the next day off (on short notice!? first time for everything!!) and kept fucking you until he was satisfied. Believe it or not, Lucifer was clingy/possessive the next few days. The intimacy got to him. ♡
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Mammon:
"Look I was just nervous...I never felt comfortable with anyone gettin' that close to me, y'know? Maybe it's celestial brain or somethin'. "
He knows he doesn't seem the type after so long in the Devildom, but it's true. Yes he's lied about it. Yes it's draining fighting off interested demons/monsters...and it's scary and annoying. He was gonna do it whenever he felt like it. Whenever he was ready.
~~~
Oh he was in love, in bliss. He was vocal. Mammon was letting you know exactly how much he was enjoying it. His nails did accidentally dig deep into you and you bled a little, but you assured him it was okay, it was an accident. He came quickly at first and was embarrassed but you were patient and assured him it was normal. He definitely cried after everything and you soothed him. The night was filled with a lot of cuddles and kisses. He was fragile and clingy the next few days. You made sure to give him all the hugs and kisses he wanted. "Thank you for being my first." ♡
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Levi:
"Are you even surprised? Who would want me?"
Of course he's wanted to do it. He might've considered hiring a succubus. But it's so scary and annoying getting to know people. And seriously he's so disgusting who would even...?
He hoped if it did happen one day, it'd be with someone special. He hoped they would accept all of him and his love. All of it.
~~~
Levi was fucking loud. The otaku could not stop moaning. He could not stop his desperate high pitched whining. It was hot. The way his hips eagerly thrust to meet you was too damn cute. "Oh? Letting your brothers know exactly what's going on? They must be so jealous." He came very easily after that. His tail would not stop swishing around. You made sure to continue riding the fuck out of him as he came, he screamed and was a (not so) pure mess. The overstimulation was too much for him but he loved it anyway. He was very addicted to you for the next few days.♡ Everyone in HOL was over it though.
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Beel:
"I don't know, it just never happened?"
He's had urges but normally took care of them by himself. He just never really connected with anyone enough to do it. He was a simple man, jerk it and go on with the day. When he found you though, he definitely noticed the urges get much stronger. His hand was not enough anymore.
~~~
He was...rough. He didn't mean to! But his primal side really came out. You just looked so good, so inviting. As soon as he buried himself in you he had. To. Ruin. You. He definitely groaned a lot and might've drooled a little. Its just the way his sensitive cock dragged against your walls for the first time was too delicious. He apologized for the bites, he made sure to give them extra soft kisses. Clean up took a while...he came a lot.
"Can we do it again? ♡"
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Diavolo:
"Mm...I don't have a lot of people I trust. But you?...I do."
It was already hard making real friends, let alone a romantic partner. Trust and honesty were at the top of his list. He had to make sure his first time was with someone he could trust, who treated him like any other person. This demon only ever wanted real love.
~~~
Diavolo was actually super shy and nervous. To be fair, it was his first time, and with a human at that. Undressing him was…really cute. You were delicate with the giant demon. That only really lasted a few minutes though. Once things got really hot and heavy and he finally dipped his cock into you, he took over. He was vocal and let you know how good you felt around him. The prince tossed you around effortlessly and pounded the fuck out of you for two days...and it was all love. Barbatos was not happy about canceling meetings and moving stuff around. Diavolo was clingy for a few days and you showered him with extra love.
"Thank you for seeing me for me."
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⬦You might also like: Thong︱Submissive & Breedable︱Virgin Handjob (Dia)
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2-dsimp · 2 months
Note
I remember hearing from bird owners on the internet never to pet a bird's wings and back due to it arousing the bird, so many bird owners say to just pet their heads.
So, if someone where to "accidentally" brush past a certain Harpy's wings and lower back, or to playfully mess with the feathers a bit, how would said harpy react?
Love to mess with others and want to rile up Lynx a bit heh
Cw: Fem! Reader, NSFW🔞 creampie, knotting, praise, Lynx being a horny birb, overestimation, cum inflation, breeding, exhibition, use of public toilet stall, possessive/obsessive tendencies. Slight degradation.
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Synopsis: You decided it would be a good idea to figuratively and literally ruffle the harpy’s feathers and you ended up getting more of a reaction than you bargained for.
☆*:.。. .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。. .。.:*☆☆*:.。. .。.:
"My muse~ you know how I can’t bear to resist you on a daily basis.”
The harpy scolded, his voice low and husky with desire. Using his clawed hands to cover your lips in order for your explicit sounds not to escape the bathroom stall y’all were currently boxed inside of.
“So Why would you do that when I was just about to be handed my Grammy?"
The singer could feel himself getting closer, his own pleasure building up inside of him as he continued to pound into you relentlessly. He struggled to hold on, gritting his teeth as he tried to savor the five minutes. That he so desperately asked for, just to momentarily hold off on accepting his trophy for having the best selling album.
Using the excuse that he needed to use the bathroom to get rid of his cold feet. When in reality the moment you ruffled his sensitive feathers. Lynx damned near almost snatched you up and fucked you on stage. But thinking about his managers pleas on not causing havoc. The birdman instead hustled you into the nearest bathroom stall.
“You must’ve done this on purpose. Did you really want me to give you my knot that badly baby?"
He panted, relishing in the harsh wet smacks of his balls against your plump ass. His long lashes fluttered shut as he humped you frantically knowing that time was running out. Twitching sporadically as his fleshy pointed cock. Kept spurting out copious amounts of clear precum which continually fattened you up.
"Fuck! You’re sucha bad girl, getting me all worked up. I can feel your juices splashing on my knot, such a dirty chicky you are~”
The Harpy no doubt felt his impending orgasm threatening to burst from his leaking dick. like a pressurized dam, his family jewels throbbing to unload his hot jizz inside of you. As he felt you squirting on his meaty rod that was hitting all your weak spots.
"Imma stuff you up with so much cum, that your gonna leave a snail trail wherever you go. That way people will know that you’re taken."
Lynx trilled melodically, his tail feathers swishing as his plumaged fluffed up from the sensation of your cunt clenched down on his length that was bullying its way against your womb.
“You’d like that right? My pretty mate? Of course you would!”
He nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck biting and licking at the sweat dripping from your skin. Not even taking not of how you were crying fat tears of overstimulation from being stuffed to the brim with his growing knot lodged inside your clammy walls. His shaft still fucking itself into your weeping quim as he prepared to let go. Since it was almost time for him to get back stage and accept his reward ceremony.
“Don’t worry I’ll take care of you more later on, so for now just open up that cute womb of yours so I can flood it with my hatchlings yeah?”
With a bodily shudder racking through him he pressed his body flush against you. His wings hugging you within a protective cocoon. Whilst he released his hot harpy sperm deep inside of you, filling you up completely with his seed. He let out a breathy, guttural keen of exhilaration as he continued to ride his high inside of you, his knot still expanding in depth within your pussy as he proceeded to ground himself empty completely inside of you.
"Mmm, you feel s-so good, my muse… You think I can squeeze in one more load inside of your pretty pussy?"
Lynx drawled out , his voice scratchy and needy as he slowed down his movements. The Harpy stayed inside of you, his cock still twitching as he enjoyed the feeling of being buried deep inside of you. From hearing your small moans in response his penis already returned to half mast eager to fuck another batch of his baby batter inside you.
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ihavethedreamies · 9 days
Text
Matter of Pride | Hongjoong
Kim Hongjoong - ATEEZ
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Rating: M (18+) MDNI
Word Count: ~5.9k
Pairing: Lion-Hybrid!Hongjoong x Gazelle-Hybrid!AFAB!Reader
Genre: Hybrid AU!, Historical?/Ancient?, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Some Plot, Strangers-to-Friends-to-Lovers
!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!
Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, very tiny mention of noncon, Pet Names (Doll, Sweetheart, Sweet, Love, etc.), Swearing, Kissing, Biting & Scratching & Marking, Bonding/Mating, Heat/Rut, Pheromones, Oral (F! Receiving), Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…), Monster(?)!Hongjoong (not really, he's a lion hybrid)
Author's Note: Okay, here we go lol. This is NOT Omegaverse, but they do both go into rut/heat. They have animals ears and tails and he's got a spiny lion cock. Hongjoong is not necessarily bigger than reality, the reader is just small. I did also imagine this more to be set in the steppe of Central Asia/Southern Siberia rather than Africa.
I am planning on doing the other members, might just take some time since we are in the process of moving. I wanted to get this up sooner as well, but I live in Tornado Country™.
🐕 Yeosang's 🐕
🐻 Jongho's 🐻
I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!
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Ever since you were a calf, the elders of your herd told you to stay away from predators. You weren't for sure why thought, since all they told you was that they were dangerous. You found that quite odd considering you were not full animals, and as far as you knew, predator hybrids did not literally eat prey hybrids. There was probably some ancient lore-based superstition or something, and it wasn't till you were older did you really think about the real facts. Despite logically knowing that they weren’t going to eat you alive, you still were a bit scared about meeting a predator.
One day you were traversing the rocky steppe of your homeland, right at the foothills of the mountains. Crouching down, you ran your fingers through the grass, feeling for the tell-tale mound of the root you were looking for. The sun was beginning to set, the cool of late-spring settling in the air.
"No." you grumbled, not feeling anything. Standing back up, your attention was quickly drawn to a new sound. Your furry ear, sticking out from the side of your head, flicked at the noise. The wind shifted and your sensitive smell picked up something unfamiliar, but it triggered a deeper, primal part of you. Predators. Logic tried to fight back against instinct, the sound was voices, not the growls of an actual animal. Still, your heart raced, the sound of blood pumping thudded in your ears. Your furry tail swished back and forth nervously, and despite your apprehensions, you moved toward the voices. Finding a path that led a bit further into the foothills, you saw fresh boot marks. Gently, like doing so would trigger something, you placed your own foot in the print, the size difference was striking. You were not a child, you were actually quite a bit bigger than the other women of your herd, but… A boisterous laugh hit your ears, your head turning toward it on its own, instinctually. Swallowing hard, you followed the tracks and when you came around a large boulder, you peered around it. There was a small clearing created by tall, jutting rocks, and a camp had been set up there. Three figures sat around a firepit, great furry pelts wrapped around their shoulders and necks. Lions. There was a fourth figure, leaning against one of the rocks, making him closest to you. Peering closer, he was beautiful. Sharp eyes and jawline, his hair wasn't as long nor as shaggy as the others. His pelt was much nicer as well, and he was the only one with a tunic shirt on underneath. A large axe-like knife was attached to his belt and he had a deep red cloth tied around his bicep. You felt the end of your tail brushing over the rock as it swayed, your nose twitching as the wind carried their scent. You had a hard time pinpointing the exact fragrance, but the one closest to you was the most potent. And the most pleasant. The three around the fire smelled like the smoke wafting around them, and like sweat and dirt. The other one though, he smelled like spiced tea and fragrant tree bark. The wind shifted again, coming up from behind you, carrying your scent right into the clearing. You barely had time to realize what had happened, trying to back away and completely out of sight, but he noticed. As you ducked to hide, his deep golden-brown eyes met your own. The intense look shot fear through your very DNA and you turned to bolt, using your species' long and fast legs to sprint. You didn't make it very far though, and the back of your tunic was seized and you bleated as you were hauled back. Turning to look at your captor as best as you could, it was the handsome one. He smelled even better so close and looked even better. Your face was hot, for many different reasons, and you wondered if he could smell your fear. Was that an actual thing?
"What's wrong Hongjoong?" One of the other lions called and he was able to hide you with his own body. He wasn't as big as the others, but still a good seven or eight inches taller than you.
"Smelled a doe, I'm going to see if I can get her." He shouted back and they went back to their raucous conversation. The lion holding you wrapped his arm around your middle rather than gripping your tunic and easily carried you around the boulder fully and down the slope. You hung there, not sure what else you could do, and he only let you go when he got to the end of the path that led you in.
"S-sorry!" You spun around to face him, not trusting him at your back, "I wasn't eavesdropping!"
"I'm not worried about that, doll. Be glad the smoke covered your scent for the others."
"W-why? Would they…" You swallowed hard, your quivering obvious to him. So were your twitching ears, and he could see your tunic shifting from your wagging tail.
"Would they eat me?" Your question threw him off, to the point that he flinched back.
"What?" He huffed, "No, of course not. Is that what you were told?" You shrugged, feeling embarrassed now.
"That's not what I'm worried they would do to a cute thing like you." Your arm reached around your back, twisting so you could wrap your fingers around the end of your braid, tugging on it. You couldn't meet his gaze, especially because you understood his implication. Also, you weren't sure how you felt about him calling you cute.
"What are you doing around here? What herd are you with?"
"I was gathering herbs…I'm with the gazelle herd southwest of here." You motioned vaguely behind you.
"What were you looking for?"
"Valerian root. It's too early for the plant to be flowering so it's hard to find." He didn't reply for a bit, glancing behind him.
"There's a big tree, east of your village?"
"Y-yes?" You were a little concerned he knew the area so well, but at the same time if they knew where your herd was, and had left it be, it was probably okay.
"What else have you been looking for?" His change of subject caught you off guard, but you answered.
"Meet me at that tree tomorrow evening, and I'll have some for you. Don't come back this way, those others aren't safe."
"You are, though?" Your question didn't sound as bold as you wanted it to. He chuckled a bit, then exhaled hard through his nose.
"Short answer, yes. I don't want to be working with them, but I don't have a choice right now."
"What do you want in return?" You asked, why would he help you just to be nice. It would be a lot of work to gather the herbs you were looking for.
"We'll see how hard it is, then I'll tell you. Deal?" He held his hand out and you eyed it. Finally, taking it, the strength behind the grip jolted you.
"I'm Hongjoong. Do you have a name I can call you?" He smirked softly and you pulled away from the handshake like he had burned you suddenly.
"(Y/N). About this time?"
"Sure, doll. Now go home, and don't come back here." Hongjoong stepped back and nodded for you to do so. Turning back to look at him a few times as you went, you trotted back home, your bag lighter than you had planned on it being.
All through the next day, your eyes kept flitting to the sun behind the clouds, waiting for it to reach the right point in the sky. You were glad you were the head healer, if you had not come back with a good haul before your mentor retired, she would've swatted your hands. In the beginning, it was weird to return to an empty tent, but after nearly six months, you were used to it. It wasn't like she was dead; it was just weird she wasn't there anymore. Your hands moved on muscle memory as you worked through the day, thoughts spiraling, always returning to the image of the lion you met the day prior. It didn't help that he was so attractive, the encounter would have been significantly less captivating without that factor. It was clear he didn't like his comrades, even past that, his appearance was very different from theirs. He had been standing far away from them as well and had even lied when he found you.
The closer toward the horizon the sun grew, the more distracted you were, and you were so antsy that for the last hour before the designated time, you stood at the edge of the village. Some of your herd had questioned your odd behavior through the day, and you brushed it off, telling them you were thinking hard about where to find more herbs. That time of year was difficult with so many different plants sprouting up, and most people accepted your reasoning. Only your mother wasn't convinced, but she also knew not to press too hard, or you would lose your patience. You didn't have too much of that.
From where you were standing, you could kind of see where the tree was, well, the rock that was hiding it. It was behind the big rock. Glancing up at the darkening sky, you could finally see the twinkling of the northernmost star, and you started to trek out. After you descended the slope, and gotten over the hill after it, you knew you were out of sight, and broke into a quicker pace. For some reason, you were excited. Was it the thrill of doing something that others would frown upon? Was it that you got to bask in the presence of the extremely attractive lion once more?
You reached the boulder faster than normal, it seemed your body was just as eager, and had decided to move faster than your brain realized. Swallowing hard, your hand brushed over the smooth stone surface as you moved around it, peaking around. Feeling a small sense of déjà vu, when you could see around the rock, you saw him under the tree.
"There's no need to hide, doll." His voice was warm and you giggled a little in embarrassment, fully coming around. Right when you got close enough, he took a bundle off his shoulder, leaves poking out from the leather wrap. Taking it gently, you crouched down so you could untie it and look. You gasped seeing everything that was there. Not only did he find everything you needed, but there was also a lot there.
"H-How did you get so much?" You looked up at him from your squat and he shrugged. No verbal response, but you were too grateful to question.
"H-here." You reached into your own bag, your string of coins jingling as you pulled it out.
"No, (Y/N). You don't need to pay me."
"But!" When you moved to give him the coins, he wrapped his fingers over yours so they wrapped around the metal pieces.
"What do you want as payment then?"
"Don't worry about it."
"I have, um. I have this mulled wine my grandfather made…" You went back to your bag, going to unite the cord of the wineskin.
"No."
"Um, okay, I have…" You shuffled stuff around in your bag, looking for the flute you still didn't really know how to play.
"(Y/N). You don't have to give me anything, it’s fine." He was closer then, trying to get you to stop your frantic search. His fingers went to your chin, forcing your head to tip back so you could meet his gaze.
"A-are you sure?"
"Yes." He dropped his hand and stepped back once more, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.
"N-nothing?" You felt bad, it would have taken hours to gather that much.
"If you really want, you can sit and talk to me for a bit?" He suggested and the request flabbergasted you.
"Really?" Hongjoong hummed with a nod, turning so he could move to the tree, sitting at the base in a divot in the large roots. Sitting down next to him, you truly felt small then, scratching at a root with your blunt fingernail. Your eyes went to his own hands, sharp claws sat at the end of each finger. You also had noticed when he smiled, his canine teeth were bigger and sharper. His golden-blonde hair, rounded ears, and tufted tail all screamed that he was a lion, even if his demeanor didn't. He wasn't scary, but he was majestic and beautiful.
"Have you ever met a lion before me?" He rested against the tree trunk and you shook your head.
"Have you ever met a predator?"
"Not really. Just seen them from afar." You picked at a dried bit of some poultice you had made that was stuck on your tunic skirt.
"You weren't as afraid as I thought you would be, then."
"If it had been one of the others, maybe."
"Why was I different?" Hongjoong's gaze on you made your face hot, you couldn't return the look.
"You could have given me away to the others, and you didn't." Yep, that was it. Nothing more to it.
"That's it?" He sounded a bit disappointed.
"Why didn't you?"
"I told you; I don't care for them."
"Then why are you travelling with them?"
"It's hard to be a solo male out here. It's easier to work with a group before I try and get my own pride."
"Oh. So, like, a bunch of wives?"
"More like two or three. Not like full lions, but..." He didn't sound super eager for that.
"Are all lion hybrids like that?"
"More or less. Never appealed to me much, to be honest."
"Really?" This piqued your interest, and you didn't dwell too much on why.
"It's rare for lions to have one spouse, out in the wilds anyway. I've debated leaving for the capital, but…"
"Why not?"
"I don't mind living off the land, but I don't know where else to go to find a wife. Most lionesses also want to be in a pride, like some ancient call."
"Huh."
"Are gazelle monogamous?"
"Hybrids are. Have a shit ton of kids though." Your response made him laugh; the sound rumbled through you.
"Can you roar like a full lion?" You were too curious. You needed to know.
"Uh, no. Can you actually bleat like a full gazelle?"
"Not really…" Now you felt stupid, ears flicking nervously. Your tail thumped a bit on the ground, your eyes meandering down to look at his. It was much longer than yours, like his full animal brethren.
"What about you?"
"Me?"
"Do you want to get married and have a shit ton of kids?" You hummed in thought. No. It was more because you didn't want to be pressed into a mold. Most herbalists never marry, let alone have offspring, that was part of the reason you chose the trade.
"No."
"You even want kids?"
"Don't know. One would be nice, but that's not how it works…" You stared in the distance toward your village.
"How many siblings do you have?"
"I'm the oldest of eleven."
"Fuck." He huffed and his reaction made you burst into a guffaw.
"Yes."
"Is your mother…okay?" This made you laugh harder.
"Uh, I can't imagine five singletons plus three sets of twins would make anyone okay."
"Not your ideal future?"
"Oh, fuck, no." Hongjoong smiled at your obvious newly relaxed state. It was then you noticed the sun had set completely, little white stars twinkling in the dark purple abyss.
"I need to get back!" You shot up, retying the bundle he had given you.
"Wait!" He stopped you with a hand on your wrist. Turning to look back at him, he licked his lips, letting you go.
"Can you meet me back here in two days. Same time?" Your eyes widened a bit at the request, but you felt a smile tug at your lips.
"Yeah, I can."
You did go back when he asked.
"You came!" Hongjoong seemed genuinely surprised, standing up straight from where he had been leaning against the tree.
"Of course?" You were genuinely surprised at his reaction, "why wouldn't I?"
"I was a bit worried you only came last time for the herbs…" He wouldn't look straight at you, and you noticed he had something in his hand. It was obviously plants.
"Is that why you brought that?" You pointed to them, and he brought them around from behind his back.
"Y-yeah."
"Hongjoong. You're the first guy that still gave me the time of day after saying I didn't want to have twelve children." You motioned behind you toward your village, "honestly I've been really impatient, waiting for…now." Your face warmed and you swiped your leg back and forth, drawing an arch in the dirt with your toe.
"You're the first girl who didn't look at me weird when I said I only wanted one wife…" He huffed, the confident smirk coming back to his face.
"Is it weird, that we're so different?" You voiced the obvious concern between both of you.
"Maybe. But it doesn't feel like it."
For nearly two months you met at the tree, every two days. One night, under a full moon, when you arrived at the tree, he met you right as you arrived, immediately sweeping you into his arms. A bit shocked, you returned the hug, warmth flooding your whole body. You spoke like normal, sitting together, shoulder to shoulder. That time though, there was something in the air. You couldn't place your finger on it, and when you went to leave for the night, he hugged you once more. When he pulled back, his hand went to cup your cheek.
"I…I don't want to let you go." He barely pulled away from the hug but did release you. His head was bowed to be closer to yours, forehead brushing yours.
"Hongjoong?" You weren't for sure what he meant, considering he literally let you go.
"Run away with me. Come to me. Stay with me." He tilted his head, nose brushing yours, his breath mingled with yours. Tears pricked your eyes, a rush of emotions knocking your breath away as he stole it. His lips were hot on yours and a tear escaped your eye. When he pulled back, his eyes met yours, and he grimaced at your tears.
"Tomorrow. I'll come to you. Here?" You asked, ready and willing. You did want to at least say goodbye to your family, gather your things.
"No. There's a cave near where we first met-"
"Behind the vines?"
"Yes."
"I'll be there."
Your mother didn’t ask too many questions. She knew there had been something on your mind, and she knew and saw that you weren't happy there. You never would be, especially not after meeting Hongjoong. You didn't have the heart to tell your father, so you said goodbye to him like it was any other time you went to gather herbs. It wasn't like you would never see them again, but you weren't sure when you would go back, not sure where you would end up. With one last glance behind you, you left your village, your bag more full than usual, but no one noticed. Standing at the entrance of the cave, you swallowed hard, parting the hanging vines and stepping in. He was there. Of course he was, it seemed he had been staying there. A very convenient hole lay in the ceiling, casting the sunlight in. The whole cave smelled of him, and once he saw you, he moved forward. You gasped, his hands cupping your jaw, lips sealing over yours. That kiss wasn’t anything like the time before. Hongjoong pulled back slightly, just so you could breathe and you whimpered at the loss. Your tail rapidly flitted back and forth behind you, ears twitching just as fast. Hongjoong's spiced aroma had grown stronger, a slight rumbling building in his chest. His hands were still holding your jaw, the claw on his thumb just barely ghosting over your skin. Stepping even closer, your hands fell on his chest, and you marveled at the hard muscle underneath the pelt around his shoulders. The rumble grew stronger under your touch, and you could already feel your core clench around nothing. Swallowing hard, you breathed in his scent, over and over, like it was a drug.
"Fuck, (Y/N)."  He practically growled, one hand moving to rest on your waist. His face buried into the crook of your neck; nose pressed to your jugular. Your blood spiked and you felt your whole body shudder. You were unsure if it was arousal, or a sense of danger, having the large fangs of a predator near your weakest spot.
"You smell so good." Hongjoong groaned, hauling you closer, leaving barely a space between you.
"Like what?" You wanted to add, 'like a meal or a mate?', but didn't want to ruin the moment.
"Like when the apricots blossom." His other hand on your jaw moved instead to the back of your head, the one on your waist to the small of your back. You gasped at the pressure of his body, feeling him growing hard against your stomach. His face left your neck, and he kissed you again. You wondered if that was what the elders implied, being eaten alive. His tongue had easily entered your mouth, swiping over yours, his large canines clacking against your much blunter ones. You had expected his tongue to be rough, but he didn't know yours would be as well, though not nearly as coarse as your full animal kin. It seemed though, that he was literally drooling, the extra saliva made his tongue glide around yours. You whimpered again, the muffled noise was nearly a bleat, and the rumble of his chest nearly a roar. Hongjoong's lips left yours, a strand of spit connecting your mouths, another trail leaving the corner of his mouth. He licked away the extra, breaking the trail, his pupils had narrowed to narrow slits. Your own pupils were blown wide, the black nearly eclipsing the color of your iris. Part of you felt the need to run, flee, that you were being hunted. Somehow though, that thought turned you on all the more.
"Are you sure, (Y/N)?"
"Huh?"
"Once I have you, I won't let you go." His voice rumbled through you, straight to your cunt, and your scent of arousal built to the point you could smell it yourself. The spiced bark of his own aroma filled your nostrils, making your thoughts hazy.
"You already have me." You replied, voice very soft, to keep it from shaking. Your brain didn't register his next move till it was already done, your back pinned to the rock of the cave, his hand still on the back of your head to make sure it didn't smash against the stone.
"Tell if it hurts too bad." His voice was in your ear, nose pushing against the collar of your tunic. Your hands around his neck moved to his upper back, gripping hard into the pelt as his teeth sank into your shoulder. Your eyes rolled back, the stinging pain just aroused you further, and his hips rutted forward once, pressing his even harder cock against your tummy. As his fangs left your skin, he licked over the spot and you flinched at the sting. Just then, his scent spiked, the aroma becoming sweeter, mingling with yours. You knew predators bonded through mating bites, but you had no idea what it would do to your body. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, blood rushed in your ears and a drop of slick started to flow down your inner thigh.
"Gotta warn you, sweetheart." He huffed, a cocky smirk gracing his features, tongue licking over the drop of blood still on his lip. He palmed his hard-on through his tunic pants, "might look a little different than you're expecting."
"Huh?" You weren't fully registering what he was getting at. Hongjoong's fingers wrapped around yours, bringing your hand to his covered cock, letting you palm over him yourself. You whimpered, you had dealt with plenty of naked males being a healer, and none compared. The thing that you noticed really, what he was talking about, were the little spines at the base of his cock and below the head. Your eyes widened, normally that would concern you some, but your body was ready and waiting. Eager even, begging.
"They don't hurt like a full lion, but I wanted you to know."
"I don't care, I just want you to split me open on it." Your bold declaration made him chuckle, his tongue licking against the tip of your ear. It flicked under the touch and the hand at your head brought your lips back to his. He swallowed your mewls, the hand he had on your back moved lower, gripping the base of your tail. When he tugged, a bleat escaped your throat, and his hard thigh nestled between your quivering ones. He immediately felt the heat of your cunt through the thin leather of his tunic pants, your slick quickly dripping over the material.
"You're soaked, love." He pressed harder, your hips jumping, the slight friction intensified by whatever hex he seemed to have you under.
"Sorry, sweet. You're sending me into a rut." His chest was rumbling again, deeper than before, "It'll be hard to hold back." Is that what was happening to you? Was he putting you into heat? Yours were normally extremely weak since you were unmated, and was it much worse because he was a predator? Did your body need to compensate for his own body’s greater power? The hand on your tail moved to cup your butt, then to your thigh, prompting you to pronk up and into his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist, the bulge of his cock pressing over your bare cunt and you whined, breath hitching. You felt so small then, he easily held you up against the cave wall, broad enough that most wouldn’t even know you were there but your legs around his middle. Hongjoong kissed over your neck, down to your collar bone, rough tongue searing over your skin. Your hands scrambled, gripping and pulling at the pelt around his neck, trying to get it off. He helped you, reaching under to undo a small button and you pulled it up over his head, letting it flop to the ground. His toned arms were fully on display then, the red cloth around his arm somehow made the sight all the better. He never told you what it meant, and you just assumed it was an accessory. Before you could start trying to wrestle his tunic top off, he held you to him, carrying you to a pile of pelts it seemed he used as a bed. Softly, he laid you down on it, but his following movements were anything but. He ripped his shirt off and you didn't get time to ogle his bare torso because he proceeded to literally tear yours off. You had only been in a linen tunic dress, but still the ease with which he turned it to shreds was incredible arousing. His palms were rough against your soft skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
"Hongjoo-!" Your breath was kicked from your lungs, vision spattering with dots of light when his tongue buried into your cunt. You hadn't even realized he was down there, hands pressing to your thighs to hold your legs open. Even the slight brush of his lips over your clit as his tongue licked over your walls was intense. A strong wave of pleasure was quickly cresting, your womb pulsing hard, walls clenching.
"Fuck~!" Little bleats and whimpers left you, your tail whacking against the pelts beneath you, dull nails raking through his hair. While you had never had an orgasm, you knew that's what it was. With how quick he brought you up to and over the edge, you knew you were in for a long night. Hongjoong growled, his purr rumbling through his tongue into you, drinking your essence as it squirted from your cunt. Smirking, he pulled back, thumb gathering a drop from his chin so he could lick it off.
"You think your cute little cunt can take my cock?" His knuckles brushed through your folds, careful of his claws.
"Please, need it~" Your foot came up, pressing over his hard-on. He grunted, wrapping his hand around your ankle, forcing it off so he could take his pants off. You watched, hazy eyes trying to focus as the leather hit the cave floor. Your eyes subsequently widened, brain fogging further. Little spines circled his cock, thick and long. Hongjoong kneeled between your legs, spreading them and hooking one of your knees over his elbow to keep you open for him. He chuckled at the twitch your whole body seized from when the hot head met your dripping folds.
"It might sting, love." He warned once more, the thumb of his hand on your waist rubbing small circles over your hip. You nodded, trying to relax but also steel yourself. Yes, it stung, it burned, but it was amazing. Each little bit he sank his fat cock into you, the little spines rubbed and pulled at your walls. Your slick allowed an easy glide, but his own head was swimming from the tight vice of your cunt, eagerly sucking him in. You shuddered with each breath, heat searing through you from your core out, and he was barely half-way in when you felt another orgasm cresting. You thought the pain would diminish the pleasure, but it was the opposite, the burn heated you even further. Hongjoong laid kisses over your shoulder around his mark, letting you adjust to the stretch, even if it was nearly painful for him to go so slow. As the head of his dick pressed against your eager and weeping womb, the little spines at the base brushed your clit and folds, and the final little push finished you off. You threw your head back, eyelids fluttering, nails leaving crescents on his shoulders. He groaned as your tight cunt pulsed around him, more of your slick spurting out from where he was filling you. When the waves of your orgasm faded, you still were shuddering, tipsy on the pleasure.
"Ready, love?"
"Hongjoong~" You mewled, fingers rubbing over his hot skin, blunt nails scratching a path down from where you had them. Your other leg ended up hooked over his elbow as well, and when he pulled out, only about halfway, the little barbs tugged at your gummy walls. He snapped his hips then, burying back inside, battering the fat head against your cervix. He was right, he couldn't hold back. He wanted to start slow, let you get used to it, but he couldn't. The next thrust had no warning, his pace was immediately relentless, your knees pressed up toward your ears. He was fucking you stupid, the noises you let out sounding more and more like your animal kin, bleats and moans melding. Your body had gone limp, only your arms had any strength, hands digging into the pelt under your hips. Your head lolled and your breasts bounced with each thrust. You couldn't think to let him know as he barreled through your third orgasm, more slick gushing from your cunt. His noises were animalistic at that point, anyone passing would think a real lion was rutting in that cave. His tongue ran over his long fangs, saliva spilling from his lips as he growled and grunted.
"Aw, fuck, (Y/N)." He chuckled, burying his cock as deep as he could, pressing those little spines into your groin, pumping your eager womb full. You weren't even sure you could actually get pregnant, but he was bound and determined to fill you to the point that it would leak out of you for days. The heat of his cum inside brought you over the edge too, a much smaller climax racking you. He was still hard as a rock though. You gasped, your lungs spasming as he pulled his cock all the way out, those little barbs digging in. Your world spun, your chest and stomach to the pelts below then, and he yanked your hips up, sinking his cock back in once more. At that angle he got even deeper somehow, each rough plow of his dick battering your back walls. Your vision blurred further, eyes rolling back, fingers futilely digging into the fur below you. His hips pummeled against the skin of your ass hard, the smacking combined with his beastly grunts made your ears twitch. His hand went back to your tail, wrapping around the base, tugging a bit. Shivering shot straight up your spine from where he had you, cunt weeping along with you, tears and drool leaving a puddle on the pelts under you.
"Fucking hell, love. You're so good for me~" He groaned, chuckling as your walls fluttered through another climax. Your cunt and clit stung from the overstimulation, but you needed more, you needed him to pump you full more. The bite on your shoulder flared with heat, so did your skin as his hands wrapped around the small of your waist. His thrusts once again grew unsteady, instead they were hard and shallow, pulling back just enough to rake those little barbs over your clit over and over.
"Fuckfuckfuckfuck." You rambled, vision already spotting with white, then nearly screamed when he came again, spurts of white hot jizz leaking from your hole, not able to handle the amount. Your cunt sprayed out as well, the mix of your release leaving a mess on the pelts. You gasped for air, heart thudding, sweat dripping from your forehead. He was still hard. Maybe that's why your people were warned about mixing with predators. His stamina was a beast in itself.
"Can you keep going love? Lions go for a whole day sometimes." Hongjoong groaned when your cunt clenched again, really hoping you could keep going. His body needed yours, just as bad for both of you, and he wanted to fuck you the rest of the week if he could. He might be able to, you on the other hand…
"Fuck me stupid, I don't- just your cock~!" You whined and moaned, giggling like an idiot as his hips rolled again. Picking back up to his monster pace again. Every drag of his dick seemed to eek a tiny little orgasm out of you, your body strung so tight, it sang with every one of his movements. Your brain vaguely registered as the sunlight faded from the hole in the ceiling, fading to the cool moonlight. You didn't think you could walk for a week after, he had fucked so many orgasms out of and into you, you lost count. Globs of thick seed slipped out of your cunt when he finally pulled out, cock finally softening. Your face was blank, eyes open but barely conscious.
"Sleep, my love. I'll need you again in the morning."
🐕 Yeosang's 🐕
🐻 Jongho's 🐻
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Master-Master List
ATEEZ Master List
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stargirlrchive · 1 year
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all those years ago ✩ jake sully
masterlist ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
summary: atwow!jake sully x female!reader, insecurites, lowkey whiney jake (i need him bad), jealousy, fluff, cute stuff <3
word count: 1,113
syulang (n) - flower
comments: y'all i kind ate w/ this one. <3 tbh i think it is my favorite one so far, literally cannot wait to post it so it is going up now. i also posted a neteyam fic a few hours ago, pls check it out baes, it is so cute, okay bye! ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
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Jealousy began to bubble in the center of Jake’s stomach, slowly gnawing and tugging at his patience. His eyes were locked onto your face as you crouched down next to a young Na’vi warrior. Your arms were on his back, applying slight pressure to straighten him out. Your other hand ran down his arm to angle it better, you tapped his back and he pulled back, letting his fingers loosen on the bow and the arrow went flying, straight into the thick trunk of the tree. You both stood quickly, tails swishing with excitement, the young boy had clearly landed the target shot.
“Good job, Ìkom. You are getting better everyday!”
Jake began to slowly approach the two of you, as if he was trying not to get caught. You both knew he was there. “It is all thanks to you Tsahìk, you are an excellent teacher!”
A low growl slipped from Jake’s throat, and he knew you heard it. Your ears twitched and you tilted your head slightly in his direction. Your eyebrows furrowed together and confusion littered your features. “Ma’Jake, is everything alright?”
“Everything is fine, Syulang.”
There was a bite to his tone, one you could not easily pinpoint but it put you on edge. You turned to look at your mate but his eyes were locked onto the young man. Ìkom was in his own world, happily sharpening the arrows he had brought with him to your training.
Your tail swished, pupils slightly dilated as you watched Jake approach the two of you. You weren't even sure how it was possible but he looked taller as he towered in front of you, chest pressed against you. He looked as though he was going to pounce on the poor boy and your hand reached out to still him. Your fingers pressed into his stomach and you felt the muscles tense, flexing under the warmth of your hand.
It seemed like he was snapped out of the cloud of jealousy as his eyes dropped down to your face. They visibly softened and his shoulder caved in, almost in defeat. A twinge of discomfort nestled onto your chest to see your mate's ego take a blow. Your hands had reached out to wrap around his waist and you pulled him in, “Ìkom, we are done for the day. Olo'eyktan and I have quite a lot of things to do today. We will resume in a few days.”
You did not even turn to look at him as Jake’s head fell to tuck into your neck. Your breath hitching as he placed feather light open kisses. “Oh-yes of course, Tsahìk. Olo'eyktan Sully.”
You heard his steps get farther and hissed as Jake lightly bit down on your neck, soothing the sting with a gentle swipe of his tongue. You whined his name out and threaded your fingers to his hair, pulling his head from your neck. “You are going to leave a mark.”
“That is what I want to do, Syulang.”
The use of the affectionate name made you flutter, it was sweet unlike earlier. “What was that about?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” His face however was twisted up in a look you were not familiar with, you wanted to sooth the lines on his forehead. “You were practically going to strangle the boy. What’s wrong?”
The bruise to his ego seemed to heal a bit as you referred to Ìkom as a boy. He huffed out in exasperation, embarrassment seeped into him, mumbling a response that you could not make out as his head went to dip back into your neck. As sympathetic as you were with your mate, you were growing agitated as he closed himself off.
Your hands dropped from his back, pulling yourself away from him. He whined lowly and brought you back to him, “I want you close to me.”
Your hands landed again on his stomach and he slightly inched his torso away from you. “You want me close to you yet you inch away. You are confusing me.”
He let out a deep breath through his nose and closed his eyes, “I was jealous.”
You felt a jolt run through you, heat spreading all along your body. “You were jealous? Of Ìkom?”
“Do not mention that boy's name to me.”
A small giggled slipped from your throat as your hands landed on his hips, pulling him closer and then you let your hand caress his stomach again. “Skxawng.”
He refrained from tensing in your arms, even though he’d never admitted it he felt an insecurity at how his body had changed after all these years. “Something else is bothering you, Ma’Jake. Tell me how I can help you.”
Your face nuzzled into his gently, peppering small kisses along his jaw as your hand gently ran your fingers down his stomach. Small shapes were rubbed into his stomach and he let out a shaky breath. “I-I feel embarrassed, so much has changed since we first met, I do not look the same, my Syulang. Seeing you so close to him-it upset me.”
His ears twitched downwards, and your hand stilled on his stomach, “You have nothing to worry about.” Your lips pressed a kiss right in between his throat, his tail swished softly at the pressure and he tried to contain the heat spreading all over his body, you were making it very difficult. “I still think you are as beautiful as the first time I saw you.”
His heart fluttered and pulled you in closer, your lips pressed tiny kisses all the way up to his lips, “Besides we are parents now, have been for 15 years, I would expect us to change.”
Your hands lightly dug into his stomach and a low hiss left his mouth at the pressure, “And I think it is quite-what is that you say-sexy?”
His tail thumped wildly against the floor, cheeks burning a dark maroon as he pressed his lips to yours. Mumbling nonsense into your lips as you giggled quietly, pulling away from him as your hands reached out to cup his face. “I like you this whiney.”
He groaned as his head fell back, feeling all his worries melt away as your fingers tangled into his. “Are you okay now, Toruk Makto?”
He nodded and tried to calm the beating of his heart, you felt so drunk off the words that fell from your mouth, a surge of confidence flowing through him again as you tugged him along deeper into the forest. Suddenly he was back in time, feeling like a young Na’vi as he trailed after you helplessly, just like all those years ago.
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charmandabear · 5 months
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Office Hours - Chapter One
Summary:
Your colleague Dr. Ancunin is a smug condescending bastard and you can't stand him. But you also can't get him out of your head.
Pairing: Astarion/F!Reader Rating: E Word Count: 5.2k Tags/Warnings: unprotected p in v sex, creampie, no breeding kink, masturbation, vaginal fingering, vampire bites, modern au, college/university au, urban fantasy, enemies to lovers, like the briefest mention of suicide while talking about Hamlet
This would not exist without @zipzoomzaria's gorgeous glasses screenshots because PROFESSOR, PLS. Go follow her bc her edits are out of this world. The masturbation scene is also heavily inspired by @astarionfreak's "Are You Satisfied, Darling?" If you haven't read it what are you doing???
Read on AO3 ~ Masterlist
There’s something about him that rubs you the wrong way. It could be his arrogance, or the condescending way he peers over his glasses at you and your other colleagues. It might be the overpriced cashmere turtlenecks that hug his figure perfectly or the stupid silver earrings adorning his stupid elf ears. But every time he opens his pretty little mouth you feel a snarl growing deep in your throat.
This is the first university you’ve worked at where the theatre and English departments shared an office. Theatre and music, sure, even theatre and dance. But theatre and English? It feels insulting, honestly. English PhDs are some of the snobbiest people you’ve ever met, and they always speak to you like a child. Is it because they’re unimpressed by your MFA, like it made you less deserving of your position? Who knows. But Astarion Ancunin is no different.
“Grace, would you mind making twelve copies of pages 219-254 when you get a chance?” You hand the administrative assistant the heavy book. “You can leave them in my mailbox, I’ll pick them up later.” Grace opens the book to the instructed page.
“Oh, Much Ado About Nothing! I love that one!” she squeals with delight. “That Beatrice and Benedick,” she sighs, stroking the Complete Works lovingly. You smile at her cordially.
“They’re great, they’re basically the non-problematic version of Kate and Petruchio,” you respond in agreement.
“How tragic that Taming’s writing is better.”
You whirl around to see Ancunin walking in looking at something on his phone. He doesn’t even look up as he inserts himself into your conversation. You glare at his interruption. He looks up at Grace, bypassing you completely.
“Good morning, Grace darling, how are you today?” He sweeps over to her and takes her hand in his, planting a kiss on her knuckles. Gods he’s fucking insufferable. Not to mention unprofessional. Grace, however, blushes and giggles like a schoolgirl.
“I’m doing well, Dr. Ancunin, and yourself?” The tiefling’s voice jumps up about three pitches and her tail starts swishing excitedly.
“Leagues better now that I’ve been blessed with your presence,” he coos at her, voice positively saccharine. It takes every ounce of your patience to keep from rolling your eyes. He casts his gaze to you, and even you need to turn away from those piercing red eyes.
“Good morning, professor. Starting Much Ado with your students, I take it?” he asks with a light smile that makes you bristle.
“Yes, it’s a great way for them to practice switching between verse and prose,” you respond coolly, more than a little defensive.
“Of course, one of his best.” He glances down at the volume still in Grace’s hands and his eyebrows raise, peering over the top of his round glasses. “Going with the Bevington, hmm? Interesting. I’m more of a Norton man, myself.” He runs a slender finger along the binding as you grit your teeth. Is he really patronizing you over your choice of edition of Shakespeare’s Complete Works? Of course, he’s an English scholar.
“The Norton is a great tool dramaturgically, but the Bevington is a much better resource for actors, so, yes.” Your voice is steady but there’s an undeniable venom in it. Can he tell how much he’s bothering you? Probably, he’s almost certainly getting enjoyment out of riling you up. His little smirk would seem to suggest it, at least.
“Well certainly, and who knows acting resources better than our resident classical acting expert?” he intones, voice still dripping with honey. You narrow your eyes at him, unsure if he’s taking another jab at your degree.
“Well, as much as I enjoy standing around and debating the merit of various editions of the Complete Works, I’m about to be late for a meeting. Grace, thank you so much, I’ll be back later to pick up those copies. Dr. Ancunin,” you turn to his smug face and he looks back at you innocently. “A pleasure, as always.” You grab your papers and leave the office, feeling the heat of his gaze boring into the back of your head as you leave.
***
“Yes, Thaniel, come on in, have a seat,” you call out to the freshman loitering in the hallway outside your office. He comes in and drops his overfull backpack next to the teal club chair across from your desk. You close your laptop and smile at him warmly.
“So, Hamlet, that’s ambitious! I think it’s a good choice for you, but it’ll be a lot of work,” you say, glancing at your own copy of the monologue.
“Yeah, that’s why I’m here,” Thaniel says nervously. “I’m fine with the scansion and stuff, that I get, but I still don’t get the actual words. And I know you said how important that is.”
“For sure, I can guarantee all of the bad Shakespeare you’ve seen has been because the actors had no idea what they were saying. Have you used the Lexicon?” Thaniel looks off to the side, embarrassed.
“No, I don’t really get how that works either,” he says, an air of chagrin creeping into his voice.
“No worries, it takes practice. Here, we’ll do a few lines together. So first off, to be or not to be, that’s fairly obvious, right?”
“Yeah, he’s talking about suicide, right?”
“Sure, but what is he actually saying about it? To take arms against a sea of troubles/And by opposing, end them. What’s ‘them’ referring to?”
“The sea of troubles?”
“Right, the aforementioned slings and arrows. So even though you might know what those words mean individually, look them up in the Lexicon to see if they have a different context here. But you’re right, he’s trying to figure out if it’s better to suffer through the shittiness of existence or to take your fate into your own hands and, well, end them.” You highlight the line and lean over your desk to show Thaniel. A voice pipes up from the doorway.
“That’s not exactly what he’s saying, you know.”
The paper crumples in your hand slightly as your fist instinctively tightens. You plaster a strained smile on your face and look up at him.
“Dr. Ancunin, thank you for gracing us with your presence. Care to elaborate?”
He’s leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, face in shadows. Your office is unusually dark because of the storm outside, and so the bright fluorescents in the hallway give him an almost ethereal halo effect
“It’s a common misconception that Hamlet is contemplating suicide here. Life and death, sure, but ‘to take arms’ isn’t metaphorical, it’s literal. He’s contemplating dying as a result of killing Claudius, not taking his own life,” he says, almost sounding bored. You stand abruptly, your office chair skidding backwards.
“How can that possibly be true? He says ‘to take arms against a sea of troubles.’ He’s using the active voice, deciding whether or not to continue his life or end it. To be or not to be. It’s the first line in the monologue. He’s not talking about the consequences of killing Claudius.” You try to keep your voice from shaking. You know that you don't sound nearly as eloquent as him, and it’s pissing you off. He shrugs nonchalantly.
“You’re oversimplifying it, it’s exceedingly more complicated than that. The whole soliloquy is filled with war imagery. He’s at war with himself, the part of him that wants to kill Claudius and the part of him that is afraid to die.” He pushes himself off the door frame and steps back into the hallway. “But apologies, please don’t let me interrupt your instruction.” And like that he was off, leaving you to stew in silence. Thaniel looks up at you and looks back at the doorway where he stood.
“Should I…” he starts, but you cut him off with a wave of your hand.
“Dr. Ancunin comes at this from a very different angle as an English academic. He’s more interested in the words on the page, rather than how they translate to the stage. But,” you sigh, loathe to give him any credit, “it’s a valid interpretation. We can go down that route, if you want, or we can look at it through this lens.” Thaniel chews his lip while he considers his options.
“I think what you said makes more sense, the suicide bit,” he finally decides. You nod and pull out your copies of the Shakespeare Lexicon.
“Great, let’s go over how to use the Lexicon again,” you say as you flip through the book, looking for the entry for ‘slings.’
***
You drop off your bag and toss your keys into a bowl on the counter. Fucking exhausting day. You unzip your boots and kick them vaguely in the direction of the shoe rack, stretching and curling your toes for relief. You hang up your wet coat and shake rain from your hair. Your eyes dart between the refrigerator, wherein resides a bottle of white wine, and the bathroom door, contemplating how good a hot bath would feel. Both? Both is good.
You pour yourself a generous glass of Riesling and strip your clothes on your way to the bathroom. One of the perks of living alone. Sitting naked on the edge of the tub, you sip your wine as the bath fills.
Fucking Ancunin.
You’re a little shocked at how much he got under your skin today. Normally you don’t think twice about him, excepting the few times you have the misfortune of passing him in the hallway. But today the fates decided to throw you together and your schedules aligned. Well, in your defense, you didn’t seek him out that second time, he was the one who decided to crash your office hours.
You don’t even like Hamlet that much. You certainly don’t care about alternative interpretations of “To be or not to be.” But you’re mostly annoyed because he had a fair point. His read makes Hamlet a more interesting character rather than a cowardly incel romanticizing suicide.
You slide into the bath, hissing slightly as the hot water flows over your chilled skin. Without prompting, Ancunin worms his way back into your thoughts. Hmmph. You take a gulp of wine to try to wash away the taste of the unpleasant image.
Well… not entirely unpleasant. He’s a good looking man, you’d be a fool to deny it. But gods he’s so smug. And interrupting your meeting with Thaniel was wildly inappropriate. Leaning your head against the edge of the tub, you try to focus your thoughts elsewhere. You’re not about to let him interrupt you again, and when he’s not even present, no less.
But there he is, in your mind, crimson eyes looking over the top of those metal frame glasses that you’re, like, 99% sure he doesn’t actually need to see. You take another swig of wine to drown his stupid face. With his stupid cheekbones. And his dumb fucking earrings that you want to bite.
Nine hells, what is happening? You’ve been drinking your wine quickly and aren’t thinking straight. You grab your phone and open Spotify, letting your daily mix play through the bluetooth speaker on the counter.
Now Playing: Hatefuck by The Bravery.
If I put my hands around your wrists, would you fight them?
If I put my fingers in your mouth, would you bite them?
By Mystra’s fucking grace, seriously? You growl at the growing heat between your legs. Between putting off dinner and chugging your wine, your head is swimming. You might be better off getting it out of your system.
The wine glass hits the tub edge with a clank as you angrily put it down and sink into the water up to your chin. You are satiating a purely physical need, nothing else.
You still shiver as you slip your hand between your legs, lightly running your finger up your slit. You can see his face, looking down on you through those glasses - those infuriating glasses - and your lips flutter. What does he look like under those sweaters? He’s so thin, but his clothes fit incredibly well. It’s not hard to imagine a sculpted body beneath. You spread your legs further and let the warm water tickle your folds.
His silvery curls would look so good between your legs, slender fingers wrapped around your thighs while he laps you up. At least then he’d shut up. A gentle moan escapes your lips as you run your finger along your inner lips, pretending it’s him. You could grab hold of those perfect locks, yanking on them to control where he can go, fucking his face.
You move your other hand up to your breast and start teasing your nipple, feeling his lips around it. You give it a little tug and groan, just like if he nipped at it.
You imagine sitting on his pretty face, pointed ears flushed and hair a mess. Your hips buck into your hand as they might on top of him and your toes curl. You make gentle circles around your clit, thinking of all the other uses for his silver tongue. You whine and squirm at the sensations of heat radiating through your body. You slip a finger inside and hiss as you can see his pale digits entering you in your mind’s eye. You curl it upwards and gasp, his imaginary eyes looking up at you through those long lashes and a smirk playing across his imaginary lips.
“Are you ready for more of me, darling?” You can hear him murmur into your ear.
“Yes, gods yes,” you reply breathlessly into the cold bathroom air. You slide another finger in and feel that delicious stretch. The ghost of him moans, coming undone at the sight of you. You could leave him speechless, for once.
You reach over the edge of the tub and grab the box of waterproof toys. You frantically sift through your collection of dildos, trying to find the right one. Here. It’s long and svelte like the rest of him, but bright shimmery purple. You suction it to the bottom of the tub and hover above it on your knees. It sways lightly in the water, tip of it teasing your pussy just like you’d love to do to him.
Gods, to see him beg for your cunt. To see him reduced to a babbling mess, pleading to let him inside you. Your breath quickens at the mental image of him pulling on his own hair waiting for you to satisfy him. You sink down onto the dildo and your groan of pleasure mirrors what you’d like to hear from him.
You start sliding yourself on the purple dick, feeling its ridges glide against the walls of your cunt as you continue to finger your clit. You imagine your hand splayed across his chest, your black nails standing in contrast against his pale skin. You claw at the bottom of the tub as you increase your pace, desperate to see the pink raised skin that your nails leave behind. The fingers on your clit speed up as well, and you can feel yourself getting close.
“Oh gods, Astarion, don’t stop,” the words tumble from your mouth unbidden. You will absolutely hate yourself for that later, but right now all that matters is your ecstasy. You bounce atop the dildo, disregarding the water that splashes over the side of the tub as you chase your finish. Your moans increase in pitch and fervor as the various images of him in all sorts of positions flash through your mind. Between your thighs, sitting on his face, riding his dick, even fucking pegging him from behind because why the hell not?
“Astarion!” You cry out his name as you crash over the edge, legs shaking and pussy pulsing. Your orgasm reverberates throughout your whole body as you ride it out. Eventually, your movement slows and the water gently sways around you. You look down at your hand, milky juices swirling in the now tepid tub water.
Shit.
***
The next day at work, you avoid him like the plague. You keep your office door closed, usually an unthinkable act but entirely necessary right now. You double check the hallway before leaving to go teach, and then after class you immediately duck back into your office and close the door again. You even avoid the main office for fear of running into him there.
You can’t look at his face right now. You can’t possibly look him in the eye.
When 5:00 rolls around, you glance out into the hallway. Most of the other professors are leaving. To play it safe, you decide to work until 6 so that you can be sure that he’s gone when you leave. You absentmindedly grade performance responses. After you’ve read one paragraph about Miss Julie maybe a half dozen times, you realize that it’s probably time to go.
You slowly open the door and glance out into the hallway. You can’t tell from this angle if his door is open or not. You grab your bag and coat, take a deep breath, and make a beeline for the stairs. As you approach his office you realize it’s open.
Fuck.
It’s fine. You’ll just walk past it and get to the parking lot and then you won’t need to worry about it. He might not even be in there. Or if he is, he probably has his head down and won’t notice you walk by. It’s fine. You’ve got this.
“Oh, professor, a word?” His voice floats into the hallway right as you’re passing his door. Are you fucking kidding? You turn to see him sitting at his desk, head down, writing something. He doesn’t even look up at you. Prick.
“Yes?” you ask, not budging from your spot in the hall. He glances up at you over his glasses. Those fucking glasses. You want to rip them off his face and throw them out the window.
“Do you have a moment? I think we need to talk.” His voice is low and cool. Does he fucking know? There’s no way he can know.
Right?
You tentatively take a step into his office. It’s surprisingly cluttered for a man who always looks so put together, but it’s still warm and inviting. You can barely see the walls for being covered corner to corner in bookshelves full to bursting. He’s got a big mahogany desk in the middle of the room - significantly nicer than the university-issued one. It’s covered in stacks of papers, books, weird little knick knacks; it’s amazing how he’s able to get anything done on it. There are two chairs facing his desk, much like yours, but a rich plush velvet instead of a scratchy cotton weave. He’s got a scent diffuser somewhere, giving the room an aroma like an earthy spiced tea.
“Have a seat,” he says, gesturing to the cushy red chairs across from him. You stand there, clutching your bag, staring at him like a deer in the headlights. When he realizes you’re not going to sit, he gets up and crosses over to the door.
“Do you mind if I close this? It’s… a bit embarrassing,” he asks with a crooked smile. You can feel the heat in your cheeks rising. Your mouth goes dry and you try to swallow the lump forming in your throat.
There’s no way he knows.
Right?
But something compels you to nod, so he closes the door and walks back to his desk, but rather than sitting behind it, he leans back casually on the front of it. He’s taken off the blazer he usually wears and is down to just the turtleneck, sleeves pushed up just below his elbows. He crosses his arms in front of his chest as you stare, waiting.
“I wanted to… apologize. For yesterday.”
You blink at him, the conversation not going in the direction you expected. You had been so focused on yourself, that it took you a moment to realize what he was referring to.
“It was inappropriate to barge in on your meeting with your student. You were mid-instruction, and I needn’t have inserted myself into your conversation.” He leaned back on his hands, stretching out his lean figure to impossible proportions. The grip on your bag slackened and you couldn’t help but drag your gaze over the length of his body. He looks at you quizzically.
“I get the sense that you don’t very much like me,” he muses.
Now it’s his turn to give you the once-over, and you feel practically naked before him the way he looks at you. “Then again,” he adds, and pushes himself off his desk. He slowly advances toward you, though whether like someone approaching a vicious beast or a predator stalking its prey, it’s unclear. You retreat while holding his gaze until your back is flush against the door.
No escape now.
He gets precariously close to you and takes an unsettling whiff. When he speaks again, his voice is a husky growl.
“I think it’s entirely possible you like me… quite a bit.” He’s got at least a half foot on you, and he looks down on you with heavy-lidded eyes. The heat in your face has fully reached the tips of your ears now, and your breath comes out ragged.
“I’m sure I-” you start, but it comes out thick and raspy. You clear your throat and try again. “I’m sure I don't know what you mean,” you finally manage with all of the composure you can muster. He cocks an eyebrow at you, then slowly takes off those infuriating glasses.
“No? Then perhaps I’m mistaken, and your heart rate hasn’t increased by approximately 20 beats per second in the past few minutes.” His eyes continue boring into you. “And maybe that smell between your legs is completely unrelated.”
An undignified splutter comes out of you as you press your thighs closer together. He takes a half step back to let you respond.
“If I am indeed mistaken, then I’ve said my peace and you’re free to go.” The seductive honey is gone from his voice, and in its place is a politely professional tone. You fully feel that he’s giving you an out, that you can both laugh on this as an embarrassing moment and neither will bring it up ever again.
But on the other hand…
“You’re not mistaken,” you choke out in a whisper. The lazy smile is back and he lifts your chin with his index finger.
“What was that? Speak up.” His command weakens your knees and you wither under his gaze.
“You’re not wrong,” you say more boldly, trying to meet his energy. His smile broadens, and for the first time you notice two pointy fangs slip out beneath his upper lip.
Fucking
vampire??
That explains how he could track your heartbeat, and even more his ridiculously keen sense of smell. Doesn’t make it any less humiliating.
“No, I don’t suppose I am,” he snarls and suddenly he’s kissing you roughly, hands twisting in your hair and one knee sliding up between your legs. He pushes you against the door and lifts you off your feet slightly. You’re desperate just to keep up as he devours you, hands weakly grasping at his hips, shoulders, neck. But he’s fully in control of the kiss, and after a moment you let him take you.
He breaks the kiss but doesn’t pull away, and you’re both breathing heavily, air cycling between your lungs. Your head feels full of a thick fog and you can’t fully see straight. His hands are still in your hair, tight but not pulling - yet. You get the sense that might not last long.
He drops to his knees and you nearly double over from the sudden lack of support. He runs his nose and lips across the hem of your black denim skirt, inhaling again. Your fingers lace into his hair, but not even remotely in the dominant way from your fantasy. At this point you’re just trying not to collapse.
He looks up at you, flashing another fang-bearing grin. His hand slips up your skirt and his thumb runs across your pussy, barricaded by your sheer tights and panties.
“Darling, you’re positively soaked,” he hums contentedly. “You’d have a hard time hiding this from anyone.” You bite your lower lip, trying to keep the needy whines at bay. But when he fiercely rips the crotch of your tights and presses the flat of his tongue against the drenched gusset, you can’t stop the cry from escaping your throat. He sucks lasciviously, the debauched slurping noise ringing in your ears. Your knees buckle and he grabs hold of your hips, hiking your skirt up to your waist to get better access to your dripping cunt.
He stands and kisses you again, the taste of you lingering on
his lips. He grabs your ass and digs his fingers into your flesh, spreading them until you gasp into his kiss. In one fluid motion he sweeps up your legs and wraps them around his waist, carrying you over to that incredible mahogany desk.
He plops you down on the hardwood and you hear books and papers tumbling onto the floor behind you. He presses his bulge into your mound, this time the sound of both of your moans mingling pleasingly. He tears at your chiffon button down, trailing hungry kisses down your chest as you throw your head back in pleasure. He makes quick work of fully removing your top, though you’re certain he sacrificed some buttons in the process. You hardly care as you paw wantonly at the back of his neck, desperate for him to get his lips onto every single inch of you. He pulls the lace cup of your bra down with his teeth and starts sucking on your nipple, pressing his hand into the small of your back. You arch into him, his hands working you like a soft clay.
So much for the pleading mess that you pictured last night. Instead, you’re the one who's been reduced to shambles, begging for satisfaction.
“Puh-please,” you stutter, and those devilish eyes lock onto yours again. He snakes his way back up your chest and bites your lower lip.
“Puh-please what?” he mocks your stammering, but makes up for it when he rolls his hips forward, dragging that delicious hardness against you. You squirm, trying to pull him closer but he’s got your arms locked in his grip. His lips leave yours and ghost over the flesh of your neck. He very gently scrapes his fangs across your jugular, eliciting a ghoulish moan from you in return. By all the gods, you hadn’t even considered that as a part of it. His movement made it clear that he won’t bite unless you want him to.
But holy hells do you want him to.
“Gods Astarion,” you gasp, and you swear you can feel his cock twitch at the sound of his own name. “Fuck me then bite me, or the other way around I don’t care, but please get in me!” The string of words almost sounds foreign to your own ears, but you’re well beyond the point of trying to sound clever. In an instant, he’s undone his belt buckle and his erection springs forth, bouncing and already dripping precum. He roughly shoves your panties to the side and sinks his cock and teeth into you simultaneously, drawing out your cry of both pain and pleasure. You wrap your legs and arms around him, trying to pull him in deeper. You can feel his mouth filling up with your hot blood just as your cunt fills up with his dick.
You’re panting as you grow more lightheaded, clinging to his neck. Unthinkingly, your fingers stroke his ears, playing with those tiny silver hoops. He lurches and pulls away from your neck, looking absolutely feral with your blood dripping down his chin, which only sets you off more. You angle your hips toward him, trying to get him to start thrusting into you. He pushes your back down onto the desk and hooks his elbows beneath your knee high boots. Then he starts pounding into you properly, and you feel like you’re close to losing it. You grab onto the edge of the desk as he revs up his pace, his cock stretching you out as he keeps your legs close to your ears. You can feel the heat mounting in your core and you know it won’t be long before you come. But at this point you’re just trying to hold on for dear life.
“Fuck, gods, Astarion, I’m-” You finish before your sentence does. He doesn’t relent as the orgasm wracks your body, if anything, he fucks you harder. Just as you’ve barely come down off your climax, he pulls out and yanks you off the desk, spins you around and pushes your face down into the smooth mahogany, warmed from where you had just been. He enters you again, this time from behind, and already you’re working your way up to a second one. Your bare tits squish against the polished surface and he grabs your hair, pulling your head up and arching your back into him.
For the first time you notice the mirror on the opposite wall across from his desk. But rather than both of you, you only see yourself, disheveled and well-fucked, lips swollen from his abuse. Your hair is pulled up by an invisible force behind you. Another unexpected aspect of vampire fucking.
You desperately wish you could see his face because you can feel his thrusts getting more uneven and erratic. You try to turn to get a glimpse of him, but his grip on your hair remains tight. But even if you can’t see him, you can hear him, his grunts and the low string of incoherent swears pouring out of his mouth. The sound of him getting lost in you is enough, and your own moans start building and mixing with his, an utter symphony of epicurism.
His hips give a few more broken thrusts and you can feel his climax, setting off yours. The throbs of his cock match those wracking your cunt, and you hold onto the edge of the desk as the waves wash over you. Once they’ve come to an end he pulls out, and you can feel his semen dripping out of the sudden emptiness and running down your leg. You quietly say a thankful prayer for your IUD.
You’re both panting as he collapses onto your back, planting a half-hearted kiss on your spine. You weakly push yourself up off the desk and see the devastation of papers, smears and fluids. You turn yourself around and relish in his appearance. Your blood is splattered on his fine cream sweater, his usually perfectly coiffed curls damp and sticking to his forehead. You reach up and wipe the remainder of your blood off his chin. He smirks and kisses you, significantly more gently this time.
“That was good,” you murmur through steadying breaths, “but next time, keep the fucking glasses on.”
548 notes · View notes
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Request for basically the shrunken down s/o incident but with the Fontaine girls (Lynette, Furina and Navia) and March 7th from HSR
(Genshin Impact/H:SR) Lynette, Furina, Navia, and March 7th with their S/O being shrunk
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Lynette picks up S/O, gently, staring at them curiously as her ears twitched.
(Lynette) "What happened?"
(S/O) "How am I supposed to know? And why are you picking me up by my shirt like I'm a cat?!"
Her tail swished for a brief moment, giving away her amusement.
(Lynette) "I'm not sure."
As funny as she finds it, she immediately finds every contact she knows to figure out what was going on with S/O.
All the while, Lynette had a hat on, with S/O underneath it.
She would have left them at home, but considering there were cats everywhere, that was not a good idea.
Once she learned that they would return to normal after a few days, she has them in her hands 24/7.
(Lynette) "...You're cute when you're bite sized like this."
(S/O) "I am NOT a cat toy, Lynette."
She's mildly concerned, but as long as she was watching over, nothing would happen.
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Furina laughs at the sight of her pocket sized loved one.
(Furina) "What a splendid trick! Since when could you perform such a logic defying ability?"
(S/O) "N-Never!"
(Furina) "Hah!....Ha...Oh, you're serious."
Her smile vanishes quickly as she scoops up S/O into her hands.
(Furina) "Fear not my tiny beloved, for nothing will bring you harm!"
(S/O) "I-I'm not sure I trust you to handle me carefully!"
(Furina) "Nonsense! Come, we shall find Neuvilette to cure you of this!"
Which she learned, this cannot be cured, at least not instantly.
They would just have to wait it out.
Well, it's a good thing Furina is not beholden to anyone, as she sits at home and watches S/O.
She has tiny water familiars the size of S/O play around with them to pass the time.
(S/O) "I feel like I'm in an aquarium right now..."
(Furina) "Oh, is that something you'd like to go to?"
(S/O) "When I'm this size, no. I feel like you'd feed me to the fish."
(Furina) "Why do you have no faith in me, my dear?"
S/O stared at the fish currently circling them.
(Furina) "Playing with you, and using you as fish food are quite different things!"
(S/O) "But I bet you're wanting to see what happens with your vision, aren't you?"
(Furina) "N-No!"
(S/O) "..."
(Furina) "...Maybe a little-"
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Navia blushes slightly at the small S/O currently on her table.
(Navia) "You're...SO CUTE!"
(S/O) "Not the word I would've chosen-"
Navia makes them yelp as she scoops them into her hand and rubs them against her cheek.
(Navia) "SO TINY! Oh my gosh, you're adorable!...W-Wait, how did you get that way?!"
Navia rushes around like a madwoman, trying to find a cure or someone who knows about this kind of thing.
Meanwhile, S/O has a full bodyguard detail outside their room, and around the table they're on.
(S/O) "Alright, even you have guys have to admit this is a little overkill."
(Bodyguard) "S/O, you know better than any of us that trying to reign Miss Navia in is a fool's errand."
(S/O) "...Fair point."
Once she learns that the duration will run its course for the next few days, she spends this time creating the smallest macarons in existence, solely for S/O.
She has them use dollhouse furniture so they have somewhere to sleep and eat.
(S/O) "You're having fun with this aren't you?"
(Navia) "Well, I can't say this is the worst thing we've done together!"
(S/O) sigh "Well, thank you anyway for taking care of me."
(Navia) "Oh please. I'd do this even if you were normal height!"
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March 7th stares silently at the tiny S/O standing on her bed, looking panicked at their predicament.
(March 7th) "..."
SNAP!
(S/O) "D-DID YOU JUST TAKE A PICTURE OF ME!?"
(March 7th) "You're right!"
She immediately gets in frame of her phone to take a selfie with her tiny S/O.
(March 7th) "Okay, NOW let's see what the heck is happening!"
Of all the people to tell her S/O's affliction, it was Pom-Pom.
And that this wouldn't last more than a few days at worst.
Thank the Aeons.
That meant March could live this up!
The entire time, March is taking pictures of S/O, giggling lightly.
(S/O) "For the record, if this happens to you-"
(March 7th) "Then I'll be as adorably pint-sized as you!"
(S/O) "You can at least show a little more concern!"
(March 7th) "I am! It's why no one else is allowed in this room! I bet Caelus would use you to go dumpster diving."
S/O shuddered at the thought, the smell was already bad but being this small...
(March 7th) "You're much better as a paperweight!"
Despite her teasing and carefree nature, there was truth to her words.
She violently rejects entry for ANYONE to go into her room while S/O is in this state because she's worried.
But, this would be a fond memory down the line she felt!
400 notes · View notes
fishsticksloser · 8 months
Note
That episode where raph goes feral bc he was lonely how would it play out with his s/o, like he becomes territorial,it can be fluff or spicy whichever one you're comfortable with.
Prize
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F!Raph x gn!reader
Warnings: smut, feral Raph, p in, biting and claws, a little rough, turtle noises?, swearing, would this be a predator/prey thing...?, Raph focused piece
A/N: My sister wanted Raph to make turtle noises, so turtle noises there will be. Figured it would be best with feral Raph. This is kinda short so I apologize. :)
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Raph had been left alone again. Not purposely of course, but he was separated from his team. The team said that he'd been lost for at least a few days, they weren't sure. Because of Raph's feral behavior, you and his brothers were the one sent out to find him. Going through the old bunker levels and tunnels that had been collapsed before Raph was able to move the rubble, you could hear hissing and growling.
Raphael turned his head toward your approaching footsteps, he tilted his head slightly; a confused expression on the broad face. His large tail swished, the spikes along the side of his tail were pointed directly at you. The feral tone in his voice did not seem to be welcoming of your visit.
"Hey, big guy..." You smile softly, kneeling a little ways away from him. You didn't want to alert him, you didn't want him to mistake you for a threat. You watched him smell the air, seeming to somewhat recognize your scent. The low rumble of his growls turned into quiet chuffs.
Raphael slowly crept towards you, his tail continuing to sway as he examined the surroundings. His claws dig into the dirt of the tunnel, his mouth opened slightly. A low rumble emitting from his chest, his eyes locked onto you asking an unspoken question. What were you doing here?
"Raphael?" You whisper, sitting down on the ground for him. You hold your hand out for him to get a better smell. "Do you remember who I am?"
Raphael looked at you, tilting his head in confusion at the words you said. He was able to recognize your scent, but he wasn't able to understand the words you spoke. He took a step closer, his claws digging deeper into the dirt as he began to examine you. Your scent was familiar, but Raph couldn't remember exactly who you were to him.
"Mate... I'm your mate, Raph." You explain softly, feeling him press his beak to your hand. "Mate... Your partner." You continue, wanting him to recognize you as his person, his lover.
A low rumble comes from his chest, the muscles in his shoulders flex as he tilts his head once more. This was his mate, his partner. Raphael began to sniff and circle you, his claws tearing up the land as he moved.
"That's right, big guy. Yours..." You whisper, moving to gently cup the side of his face.
Raphael moves closer, pushing you onto your back as he continues to sniff, lick, and nip at you. His body is practically hovering over you as he examined his lost lover. Raph lowers more of his weight onto you, he's trying to show his affection.
"Hey, big guy..." You smile as he starts to nuzzle your neck. He chuffs and sniffs against your skin, his claws tearing at your clothes. You'd never dealt with Raph after he'd been feral for so long, maybe it was normal? "You... Want them off?"
Raph chuffs in reply, continuing to tear at your clothes with his claws. But his teeth soon joined, tossing the tattered clothes aside. He presses his beak to your stomach, a low rumble filling the air again as he churrs. You gently pet his head, but Raph suddenly pulls you close, growling loudly.
"Oh shit…" You hear Leo say and more footsteps move closer. Raph's growls get louder as he pulls you closer. You were his mate - his. He had claimed his prize, he wasn't planning on sharing. "Raph, buddy…"
"I'm okay, get out of here before he rips your heads off." You huff at his brothers. They were reluctant due to how Raph was acting, but you assured them that you were okay and they quickly made their escape. "All yours, Raph." You sigh as his growls become chuffs again. His tail swished vigorously, still prepared to fight for what was his.
He wanted more... More love, more affection, more...
"You're okay, big guy... No one else is here, I'm all yours." You try to reassure as he moves to chuff against your thigh. You were his and he was taking you. His tough tongue licks along your body, you were his.
Raphael continues to lick along your thighs, his tongue flicking and tasting. His tongue felt like sandpaper, it was an odd sensation, but Raph made it enjoyable nonetheless. He seemed so eager to please and love, his warm breath fanning over your skin. His large hands gripped your legs, moving them further apart. He wanted more, he wanted it badly.
He slowly made his way back up your body, sniffing, chuffing, licking. You gently touch him, not wanting to overwhelm or anger him. He gently pushed you over, making you lay on your stomach. Raphael began to press more of his weight against you as he slowly mounted you. You gasp, your hips slightly lifting at the intrusion. His claws dig deeper into the dirt, sniffing and licking every part of you he could reach. Raph was still on guard, prepared to fight any intruder or rival that came near you.
Raphael began to slowly thrust, making sure that every movement was slow and steady in order to please you. His broad body remained on top of you, slowly gliding in and out. His snout nuzzles the back of your head, his large hands gripping your hips tightly.
You were his. There would never be another. He would mark you, keep you safe, loving you in a way no one else ever could.
Raphael continued to make slow and deep thrusts, wanting to make sure you felt his affection. He didn't want to go too quickly in fear of hurting you. His snout presses into your neck, making sure you felt every thrust. Chuffs and moans filled the air, echoing throughout the tunnel. Raph was pleased, this was what he wanted. To protect and love you. With the chuffs echoing along with his heavy breathing, and with every small sound you made, Raphael could tell he was doing something right. He was using everything to claim you as his.
Raph took his time, ensuring that you felt every moment of his love. Every time you made a noise, he felt proud of himself. He felt like a king and having his partner right there with him. With a hard moan, Raphael pressed his hips against you harder. His warm breath like a blanket on top of you, it was a welcoming sensation. He continued to pump slowly, using every bit of his form to please you.
A low rumble echoes around you as Raph quickens his pace. He was getting closer, the chuffs becoming shorter and faster at the same rate of this thrusts. His breathing becomes more erratic, his hand grips your hips tighter. His claws digging into your skin a little. He was so close, just a little bit more. He wasn't going to be able to contain himself much longer.
Raphael's pace began to pick up, he was at his limit. He couldn't contain himself anymore. He began to pump even deeper, even faster. His breath became more frequent as he neared completion. His tail slowly swayed back and forth as he pumped even harder.
Raphael could feel you climax, he increased his pace by just a little bit. His large hand held you tight, he wanted to show you how much he wanted you. His sharp teeth dug deeper into you shoulder, growling deeply.
He could feel himself losing control. He was losing focus, all he was seeing was you. His mate.
Raphael continued to pump, feeling the pleasure of your soft body. His breathing became more erratic — the muscles along his broad back flexed as he slowly picked up his pace.
Raphael could feel the release start to happen. All he could feel was the sensation of your soft flesh, your gentle whimpers. The snapping turtle mutant let out a primal growl as his hips slammed against your ass, pushing himself even deeper inside you. Raphael's breath became more shallow. His churrs filled the air as his hot seed filled you, slowly dripping down your thighs.
Raph began to slow his pace as he finally finished, his large body was twitching and trembling as the adrenaline finally started to fade. His claws loosened their grip and he moved his mouth off your shoulder With a slight chuff, Raph lifted off of you.
He proud. He had done it, this was his mate.
Raphael laid next to you, his large form seemed so content and at ease as he rested on his back. His large head resting on your back, his thumb gently caressing your soft skin as he started to come back to his true self.
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vampcubus · 5 months
Note
imagine playing with dbz!vegeta’s tail while pegging him, pretty boy’s gonna be in heaven but would rather die than admit that <3
:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : nsfw, sub!vegeta, afab gn!dom!reader, pegging, tail pulling, finger sucking bc i apparently can't escape that kink, brat -> fuckslut pipeline with a single gesture.
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It isn't often you have the privilege of seeing your fiesty Saiyan prince splayed at your mercy like this, bent over and vulnerable to attack and yet begrudgingly eager to fuck himself back onto your plastic cock. His reddened face is deliberately hidden in the sheet that threatens to tear in his iron grip, but his rear is elevated, knees parted to present his toned ass to you.
"You're so cute when you get shy, 'geta," you purred in an octave that makes his heavy and neglected cock twitch between his legs. He sputters and growls in humiliation, though the frantic back-and-forth motions of his hips are no gentler.
"Shut up," he spits through clenched teeth, though it holds only a fraction of its usual bark as his brain turns to mush. "D-don't call me that, idiot." He cries out as your hips snap against his sharply, the toy striking that spot that makes his knees tremble and buckle.
"Oh, my mistake, my prince," you mocked, and for some reason he groans instead of hissing out another insult. It's not his fault, you're forcibly fucking the sense out of him. "No need to get hostile. After all, I'm treating you good, aren't I?"
Vegeta can't even conjure a flustered lie with the way you're baring down on his prostate, strong hands holding his bucking hips in place so you could bend over him and plow into him more efficiently. You always fuck him perfectly, and even if he doesn't trust you as far as he can ki-blast you, he's helplessly attracted to you. You aren't the first to top him, just the first to keep him engaged, in-line, and sated by the end of each session.
Your chest slips and slides against his sweat-glistened back, and his twitching tail gets caught between your bodies. He faintly has the presence of mind to move it out of your way, although that that only draws your attention to the furry appendage, spelling his doom.
Vegeta is so large and imposing that the existence of his tail always makes you grin and coo. It's so cute, just like him, just like the choked noises he makes as your thrusts become bruising and rough, just the way he likes them. His chestnut-colored tail swishes and curls in midair, waving around your face like a feathered toy to a cat. An unintentional tease, and an opportunity.
A hand leaves his hip to snake around his body, stroking over the layers of hardened muscle adorning his torso to find his jaw. He half-expects you to wrap your nimble fingers around his throat and squeeze, to which he tenses and sends you a warning glare over his shoulder. You only smirk back, sliding your fingers over his kiss-bruised and bitten lips.
"Open," you command, and he grunts in protest, shaking his head.
"Stick your fingers in my mouth and I'll bite them clean off, that's a p-promise-! fuck, what are you-?" Vegeta's growl turns into a startled yelp as your free hand catches his tail in a firm grip. "You insolent- fuuuck."
You give his tail a tug, and it sends a shockwave down his spine, making his entire body tense up and then abruptly go limp. He hates how weak and helpless he's become with a single gesture, and how his traitorous cock only throbs and leaks all the more for it. It's not his fault. It feels too good to submit to you, even if his mind disagrees, his body surrenders enthusiastically.
His jaw loosens, lips parting around your digits as if in a trance and embarassingly, he moans as your fingers glide across his tongue.
The immobile state of his body only seems to amplify the feeling of your cock filling him over and over again, forcing his insides into the shape of the toy. He's ruined surely, no one else could pin him down and fuck him within an inch of his life as you do. The realization both terrifies and turns him on beyond belief.
He can't need you, it's unbecoming. But as your fingers fuck his mouth in time with your purposeful thrusts, his doubts go quiet in his mind, replaced by primal pleadings he's thankful are muffled by your digits.
He wants to cum. He wants to be filled, taken, used. He wants to please you but can never say it. Especially not to you, whom his body ignorantly has been tricked into believing you're his mate.
Mate. What a foolish notion.
Still, he is a weak Saiyan, and he is yours. So he lets go of the illusion of control, just for tonight and allows himself to be conquered.
His tail curls around your wrist in a serpentine manner, and he chews and licks at your fingers. The resulting coo and praise that spills from your wicked lips makes his eyes glaze over. "Pleathe," comes his muffled plea around your fingers, and you are filled with pride. Your grip loosens, and you caress the length of his twitching tail between your fingers, transfixed by the way he squirms and whimpers at the touch.
Your fingers retreat from his mouth, connected to his swollen lower lip by shiny drool. You tilt his head to the side, bending over him further until your lips brush over his own.
"Again. Beg again, and I'll let you cum," you proposed, and this time, he doesn't hesitate, feelings his balls tense in anticipation of an orgasm he needs before he's driven utterly insane with desire.
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luvv4j4ybe11 · 5 months
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✧Summary~ Neteyam sees how well you act with children and it makes him think of how good you’d be with your own children.
✧Warnings~ Lots and lots of dirty talk, talk of impregnation, unprotected sex, p in v, breeding,mating press, rough sloppy sex, dom!neteyam, sub!reader, and I think that’s it. Lmk if I missed anything, enjoy love<33
✧Translations- Yawntu-beloved, ma’evenge- my girl
✧For best experience, listen to this song😉
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All it took was for neteyam to see the way you acted so motherly to your baby sister, feeding her, playing with her, holding her on your hip while you did some chores that gave him the primal urge to stuff you full of his cum and give you a child of your own.
He walked over to you quickly, braids swinging from side to side fluidly. “Yawntu! I haven’t seen you all day!, how-“ “I need you.” He states lowly, looking at you with lust filled eyes. “Teyam I’m kinda doing something right now-“ you remark, signaling to your baby sister that was sitting comfortably in your lap playing with her toy as you were making a necklace for Neteyam.
“I’ll ask kiri to come and watch her.” He says quickly, wrapping his large hand around your bicep. And as if on cue, kiri and your sister tsireya walk in.
“Hey, y/n” kiri says as she walks over to you and your sister, tsireya trailing close behind. “Sister! How’s she been? Did she say anything yet?” She questioned, picking your sister up from your lap.
You chuckle at her questions, opening your mouth to respond but neteyam is quicker than you. “She’s good. Me and y/n need to go so can you guys watch her?” He says calmly, tugging you up quickly so you’re standing next to him.
They both shake their heads yes before turning their attention back to your sister. Giving neteyam the chance to tug you out of your families marui.
You can barely keep up with his long strides,basically jogging behind him to keep up with him.“Neteyam! What’s your issue?” You say angrily, his demeanor slowly started to piss you off.
He stops walking abruptly, making you collide with his strong back. “Ow! Neteyam what the fuck?” You bark, eyebrows furrowed and tail swishing in an agitated manner. He ignores your question as he turns around, scooping you up from the ground effortlessly and place you over his shoulder. “You’re slowing me down.” He states plainly. Tone husky and accent thick. Which told you how aroused he really was.
You stayed silent the rest of the walk, trying to ignore how he’d brush his fingers up against your needy pussy every once in awhile. When you finally get to your marui he slams the makeshift door shut. Throwing you on the bed gently before climbing on top of you, kissing you heatedly.
“Wanna get you pregnant..” he mumbles into the kiss gravelly, roughly grinding his hard-on into your clothed cunt.
The friction from the cloth makes you bite your lip, already losing your mind in the pleasure. But you still try to pull yourself back to your reality.
“Yawntu, I don’t think we’re ready to-“
“Please baby. Please. You act so well with children and so do I, we both have basically raised our siblings so who says we can’t raise our own children?” He argues, leaving you opening and closing your mouth searching for a response but you’re completely dumbfounded. His logic was something you couldn’t argue with.
He bucks his hips into your cunt, making you moan softly. “Fuck! Fine ok! I want your babies Neteyam, please!” You whine, the words making him growl deeply.
Both of you take off your loincloths in record time, desperate to feel each other. He shoves two of his fingers into your cunt, stretching you out for him. Making you grab his wrist to pull it away.
“Uh-uh. I want you now.” You say seductively, spreading your legs wider to give him room. His breathing gets heavier at the sight infront of him, making him grab your hips harshly. Lining his tip up with your throbbing cunt.
“So desperate for me, aren’t you babygirl?” He says before slamming into you, making you both moan loud and wantonly. His pace is slow and deep, hitting your sweet spot perfectly every time.“Fuck ma’evenge.. wanna see you all swollen and pretty so bad. Gonna look so~hah fuck~ gonna look so good with my baby inside you.” He babbles, cock twitching at the thought of you like that. Making your walls flutter around him and your moans and whines get louder.
He places your legs on your sides, holding them in place. Bending you in ways you never knew you could be. The new angle pushes him deeper inside of you, making the coil in your stomach snap immediately.
He lets out a guttural growl at the feeling of your pussy spasming around him, causing him increase his pace. Sending your fast, deep strokes. You shake and whimper as he uses you, tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. “Te-yam..pl-pleasee!” You shriek, voice bouncing from his ruthless thrust.
He throws his head back, lost in the tightness of your pussy and the sound of your moans. “Nah babygirl, you wanted this remember? Don’t whine now because I’m giving you exactly what you want.” He teases, cocking his head to the side causing his braids to fall in front of his face and a smug smirk to go with it all.
You whine pathetically at his words, cunt squeezing him hungrily. His thrust start getting sloppier and his moans and growls turn more guttural the more your cunt gets somehow tighter around him. Making him lean down to kiss you passionately, cadging your head between his strong arms.
He leaves a trail of kisses from your jaw to your neck, licking and sucking into your skin slowly. “Want everyone to know who you belong to, ma’evenge. Want everyone to know whose name you scream every night. Who leaves you a shaking mess because of how hard he makes you cum” he says seductively, pushing his body into yours. Desperately trying to rub his scent all over you and get deeper inside of you.
The feeling of him stretching your cunt beyond her limits and his words is what pushes you over the edge, your whole body shaking in his grasp.
“Fuck pretty girl, gonna stuff you so full of my cum it’s gonna be dripping down your legs for days. Want that baby? Want everyone to know how much of a slut you are for me you let me knock you up?” He rambles, the obscene squelching from your pussy filling both of your ears.
“Mhm! Please! Want that s’bad, teyam!” You slur, officially drunk on his cock. He groans deeply at this, the noise going straight to your cunt. Your whines feeding his primal urge to stuff you to the brim,mark you, and scent you.
You claw your nails into his back when you feel your orgasm hit you like a wave, spraying your essence all his dick and lower abdomen. The sight and feeling is enough for him to spill his cum into your fertile womb,thrusting in you periodically to make sure you’re filled.
He leaves a row of bites on your shoulder and neck, licking and sucking each one when he was done.
“Now you really belong to me, ma’evenge.”
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A/N~ I NEED HIM INSDIE OF ME SO BAD HELP😩 writing this made me so incredibly horny I physically cannot rn. I hope y’all enjoyed this tho😋 stay safe and hydrated bbys🩷
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Taglist: @pandoraslxna @plooto @neteyamswillow @neteyamlove69 @neteyamsyawntu @tallulah477 @alexxie @aperiraa @urlocalgayblueberry @somedays-i-just-feel-bad-bitch @km-ffluv @marcelruizboba @koalalafications @rihnnx @skywonder @hotdsworld
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qu1cks1lversb1tch · 2 days
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Hello! Love your writing, so yummy. I was wondering if you would take a request? I was thinking what it would be like if Lucifer was dating a fem reader who was a fox sinner and she randomly does animal like things. I think he would be so interested in the ear and tail movement and would try to see what different things cause what reactions. Foxes are very wary so I could see her jumping easily and him taking advantage of that lol 😭. Then, if he would see her like "pounce" on Angel as a prank cause they're besties. Lastly, I just know if he heard her growl, his knees would get weak (imagine them having a growling fight for some reason cause he growled at Alastor that one time 🤣💀). Anyway, I'm dragging this on, so have writing this if you do! I'd appreciate it! *mwah*
A/N— Just when I think the requests can't get any better, another wonderful anon pops up to steal the show. I LOVE THIS so much. This is more or less a small compilation 💅🏻🦋 I had to do a little research for this one, but I think it's so silly 😭💖 I hope you have a wonderful weekend anon!
Animalistic | Lucifer x Fem Fox Sinner!Reader
Warnings: Reader is a common Red Fox Sinner, swearing (I mean, seriously — it's Hazbin 🤣), Reader being a menace to society
Word Count: 696
Summary: More often than not, your animalistic behaviors take over. . .
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Lucifer watched you from afar — not in a creepy way, but in a ‘that's my girlfriend and I'm admiring her’ kind of way.
Right then, he was watching you wallow on the couch that had been placed in the lounge specifically for you, by Charlie, because you refused to sit on a piece of furniture that had the scent of the Radio Demon practically rolling off of it in waves. 
So the fucker went and sat on your couch.
The audacity. 
You were pretty pissed at the moment, which was evident by the growling and angry mumbling that became louder at times. 
He only caught a couple pieces of dialogue, like: ‘no fuckin’ respect for BOUNDARIES!’ And: ‘I ought ‘ta shit in that fuckers shoes!’ 
But it was enough to keep him attempting to hold in his laughter, which he ultimately failed in. 
You quit wallowing in attempts to get your scent to return back to the couch the moment you heard a noise. You jumped, one ear twitching while your tail lifted into something resembling a ‘u’ shape, showing you were now on high alert. 
The moment you caught a whiff of your boyfriend, you turned to face him. He was biting his bottom lip so hard to keep from laughing. 
You could only roll your eyes and stand from the couch, fixing your hair as you trotted over to hug him. “Better not be laughing at me.” You whined. 
“Your words, not you. Never you.” He replied, holding you close as you went about rubbing your scent on him as well. Just so no one would get any ideas. 
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You were watching. Waiting. 
Your tail was swishing at your side in a playful manner, just waiting for Angel Dust to walk past the dark hallway like he did every evening before bed. 
The moment his footsteps could be heard, you were prepared to launch out of the darkness — something you hadn't done in months. 
He came into your line of sight and it was go time. 
Launching out of the darkness, you easily tackled your best friend, the two of you tumbling until you landed on top, pinning two of his arms to the floor with your sharp canines on display as you grinned down at him. 
“Gotcha!” You cheered happily, your tail swishing from side to side.
“First off, ouch, that fuckin’ hurt — secondly, why the fuck can't you ever attack the short king with your midnight zoomies?”
“He's almost always asleep at this time.” You pouted removing your hands from his arms, nipping at his hand when he went to pet your ears. 
“I dare you to wake him up next time.”
You grinned, getting off completely to help him up. Oh, you would.
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Charlie approved of the relationship between you and her dad, but that didn't mean that she didn't witness some odd things whenever he decided to stay for dinner. . .
She could ignore you pouncing on him at random because you pounced on everyone except Alastor. 
She could also ignore him helping you hide snacks for later because she knew that a good snack didn't last long in the hotel. 
But it was harder to ignore you biting, growling, and scratching at Lucifer, laying on your back in his lap on your couch, with him growling playfully and running his fingers through your hair. 
It was cute in a way — her dad embracing the form you were given, and you, eager to play almost constantly. . . Except for when you were nervous or felt threatened by another demon higher on the food chain.
Though one look told her that he had hearts in his eyes. 
And you did too. Even when your sharp teeth finally latched onto his arm and you gently shook your head before releasing and bursting out into a fit of giggles that had Lucifer quit growling, instead leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead.
He smirked when your ears twitched and eyes crossed at the sign of affection. 
You growled in return, playfully nipping at his hand with a noise somewhere between a very fox scream and a whine. 
But it was all in fun.
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batfleshh · 7 months
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Your hybrid reader fanfics got me thinking with my dick not head😔
I am sure Price would eventually buy hybrid dog! Reader a pretty collar🤭
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Back in place
Price X M!DH!reader
Warnings: LAST DH FIC FOR A LITTLE WHILE unless y’all like these lmao, recruits are annoying, collaring, scent kink? and ahem pillow humping, hes so grhherhh, idfk gay, not proofread
★ You weren’t usually one to get frustrated during your duties, especially considering your role in the task force. You were always expected to listen, to be obedient and be hellbent on complying with whomever told you to do a task. It wasn’t your fault that those rookies were bossing you around like you were just some dumb dog. It ticked you off, the way they spoke to you with an overly sweet tone and gushing faces like you were some pet. Usually you didn’t mind that term, depending on who it came from, but it was still enough to make you snappy with them. That’s what got you called to the Captains office, a low growl leaving you as you walked past the annoying recruits. Once you reach Prices office, you knock at the door gently before pushing it open. He looks up at you, his face scrunching up into that familiar smile that made your tail swish back and forth behind you.
★ At least, that’s what usually happens. Now you just grumble and move into the room, slamming the door shut and staring at him. He furrows his eyebrows at your new attitude, using his finger to gesture you over to him. You reluctantly comply, inching over to him slowly, not bothering to have any sense of urgency in your step. Once you reach his desk, he pushes his chair away from it, looking up at you and studying your features, scanning you. He takes note of your demeanor, reaching for your hand and taking it in his as gently as he possibly could. You let out a confused noise at the action, John pulling you towards him and coaxing you down to your knees slowly.
★ You grumble but comply, ears twitching irritatedly on your head. He’s still holding onto your hand, his thumb caressing the back of it. You begin to ease up slightly, the comforting gesture making you sigh through your nose contently. His other hand moves to your face, placing it under your chin and making you look up at him. Your face feels warm as he stares at you with his kind, yet demeaning eyes. You feel your tail begin to move around slowly, a quiet whine leaving your throat unintentionally. “Starting to feel better, boy?”, he asks you, a soft chuckle leaving him as you nod sheepishly. He removes his hand from your face slowly, reaching towards a drawer on the opposite side of his desk. You study his figure as he is turned around, eyes lingering on his lower area for a little longer than intended. You bite the inside of your cheek as your head fills with nasty thoughts, huffing and going back to watching him shuffle his hand around in his desk.
★ He removes an object from the drawer, shutting it and facing you again. He runs his head through your hair and pets your head with his other hand, holding the object up in front of you. “Ain’t it pretty, pup?”, he asks you teasingly, a leather collar being presented to you. You feel your face flare up at the sight, your tail beginning to move faster without any apparent reason. You see “Property of” engraved into it, his initials following after it. He lifts your head slightly and wraps the object around your neck securely, a small metal buckle allowing the material to be put in place. You move your hand up to feel at the collar, smiling to yourself. Price keeps that same smile on his face, cooing as you start to move closer to him, whining and placing your hands on both of his knees. He leans forward and smirks, moving his hand to loop two of his fingers under the collar and pulling you up. He presses his lips against yours, closing his eyes and smiling against your own.
★ You happily return it, tail moving rapidly behind you as you lift yourself up off the floor slightly. A tiny whine leaves you as he pulls away, breaking the contact between your lips. He eventually helps you to your feet, giving you a comforting pat on the arm and sending you on your way. You leave his office with a dopey grin, feeling bubblier than before. The recruits take notice of your new accessory, all deciding to ask about it later. You continue your day like normal, having a far more better demeanor than what you did earlier that day. You do snap at the same recruit from time to time, but that’s more their fault than yours.
★ Later that night, you are wondering around the base. You have nothing left to do for the day, but you are patiently waiting for the Captain to be done for the night. He had gone out a little while ago on a mission with the rest of the task force, you being left behind. It didn’t bother you that much, but you did miss him. You decide to sneak into his room, eyes scanning over his bed. You quietly move towards it, unintentionally silencing yourself from making any noise. You lay down on his covers happily, your head flopping onto his pillow. You take a deep breath, humming as you smell his scent imbedded into the pillow. You huff and press your nose into it slightly, whimpering quietly at the smell and grabbing at the pillow slowly. Your tail begins to wag quickly as you inhale his smell, sitting up and picking up the pillow. You hold it to your chest tightly, tail wagging steadily as you hug at the soft object. You perk up as you get an idea, looking down at a second pillow John has resting on his bed.
★ No, no, what an absurd idea. You’re better than that, you’re not that much of a pervert. You shake your head to yourself and place the pillow back in its original place, smoothing out any wrinkles and creases you put in it.
★ You chose that option in possibly another universe. But here? You begin to strip out of your pants quickly, anything left of your attention span immediately leaving your mind. You would apologize to the captain later, you’re sure he’d understand. Price is exhausted when he gets back from the mission, wishing his crew a good night in a gruff voice as he goes to make his way to his room. He hums to himself, thinking about where you might be at as he reaches his door. His hand reaches for the knob, but he stops himself. His eyebrows furrow as he listens closely, a soft rocking noise being heard faintly. At first, he’s confused and angry, what pervert recruit mistook their room for his?!? But when he cracks the door open, he sees something that was quite the opposite of his previous accusation.
★ Faint moans and whimpers leave you as your teeth are clamped down onto one of his pillows, the other pillow planted securely between your thighs. Your movements are rapid as your cock rubs against the soft fabric, pre cum leaking onto the material as you huff at his other pillow. John is surprised, almost in shock as he watches you from behind the creaked open door. He gives a quiet chuckle and slowly eases his way inside, shutting the door with a soft click silently behind him. Your eyes are screwed shut with your back to him, your ears twitching on your head. John moves up behind you slowly, staring at your body. After a little bit, he snatches at your collar, a surprised yelp leaving as you let go of the pillow in your mouth. You sigh in relief as you realize who it is, but that quickly being replaced by embarrassment as you quickly try to apologize to him. He just stares at you, removing his hand from your collar and commanding you with a grunt. “Keep going.”, and you do.
★ You begin to groan and whimper, eyes staring at him half lidded. Price chuckles deeply and moves to press a soft kiss to your cheek, coaxing you on. After a while, you finally tumble over the edge. Your release shoots out of your length, decorating the soft fabric of the pillow that’s between your thighs. You whine and slump forward, panting and looking at him with a silent, but calm expression. The captain coos at you, hand moving to your head slowly to scratch at your ears. You whine, tail beginning to thump against the bed gently as you stay perfectly still. His hand slowly runs down to your collar, tugging at it gently, almost playfully. He helps you clean up after a small moment, now replacing the used pillow with a clean one. He sets up his bed and hums, staring at you and smiling his signature smile. God, the things you would do for this man.
~ ★
Rolls around on floor and dies
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sooniebby · 1 year
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This is my first time doing a request, I hope it doesn't bother you and you can choose the character you want to cast as Reader's partner. So imagine a world where hybrids exist, but they only make up a few percent of the world's population.
Reader is a snow leopard hybrid, but because the snow leopard is smaller than a leopard, much smaller than a tiger, and slightly smaller than a forest lynx, so he has the character of fluffy white ears and tail and short height, he works in an office and because his big and long fluffy tail can annoy people he often bites his own tail so as not to disturb others and it makes people who are in the same department with him spend a little time just to stroke his head and get a purring reaction from him.
This was heard by the Office manager's ears and became curious which in the end he made Reader a private secretary and often stroked Reader's head, until one day he accidentally pulled Reader's tail and got an unexpected reaction. Since then he has often pulled Reader's tail with 'accident' reasons which ended with office sex.
You can change it or ignore it if you feel uncomfortable, sorry if this is too long and sorry if my English is bad. Have a good day
:]
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ఌ 𝐎𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
꧁ 𝙏𝙤𝙧𝙪 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂
Word count › 3.6k
Rating › NSFT
Warnings › none
Kinks › breeding, size kink, creampie, mentions of free use
╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
╰┈─➤ BEGINNING
(Name) didn’t hate being a hybrid. Sure there was the weirdos that wanted to keep him a pet but most treated him as a regular person. The only odd part was having people just touching his head.
It certainly didn’t help that he couldn’t help the purring that happened whenever he did. It just kept going so he ignored it most time. The pats were nice anyway.
At his job, his boring office job that he’d been debating on quitting, had two people who just couldn’t let go of his hair (plus ears). Kuroo and Bokuto loved to pet him as if he was a house cat.
He usually purred whenever they touched him since they figured out how to get that reaction from it. His ears were sensitive, don’t judge.
(Name)’s tail swished around as he began to get irritated at the paper work in front of him. That damn boss of his was annoying him with the amount of shit he continued to give him on a daily basis. He was just about to get up from his seat when someone stepped in his tail.
He cried out in pain, which was more akin to a cat’s scream, as he grabbed his tail and held it close to himself. Everyone in the office stared at him in shock while the culprit, Yamaguchi, looked as if he wanted to kill himself.
“I’m so sorry!!! Please forgive me!!” He cried, bowing down onto the ground. (Name) simply nodded. He knew he didn’t do it on purpose.
His tail was much longer than normal hybrids. It also didn’t help that he was shorter so it made his tail appear longer than it actually was.
But Yamaguchi wouldn’t be the only one to step on it. Soon enough, at least everyone stepped on it at least once. Kuroo twice became he didn’t watch where his big ass feet went but (Name) had to figure out what to do.
The pain was becoming unbearable and he was sure another two steps would cause his tail to break. He decided, when every other idea sounded stupid, to just hold it in his mouth.
(Name) was used to the fur in his mouth so it didn’t bother him to lightly hold the tail. This way, he didn’t have to fold it into an uncomfortable position for longer than hour. A few times he wrapped his tail around his waist but that always got a cramp after an hour or so.
“It’s like you got your own silencer,” Bokuto once said, scratching (Name)’s hair during his break. (Name) purred happily, his tail curling around Bokuto’s waist to hold him close.
“Oh, he could use his tail during sex.” Kuroo suddenly said, a smirk on his lips.
Kenma looked confused. “Why would he?” He was resisting the urge to pet (Name). His love for cats extended to (Name) heavily but he never actually touched him in fear of making uncomfortable.
“To muffle his moans,” Kuroo rolled his eyes. “Perfect for when you don’t want to get caught.”
“Oh, so dirty,” Bokuto laughed.
“Weirdo…” Kenma whispered.
(Name) was too busy enjoying his massage to care.
The four of them stopped talking when Iwaizumi had walked past them. He nodded in greeting which they returned. Iwaizumi looked mainly confused on Bokuto petting (Name) but didn’t say anything as he walked to his office.
Iwaizumi was the boss’s secretary. He was hardly outside of his office. It usually meant something bad happened if he was.
“Do you think the boss knows?” Kuroo asked.
“Know what?” (Name) questioned, frowning when Bokuto stopped his massage.
“About you. I heard he loves hybrids.”
“In a fetish way?”
“Dunno. Probably.”
Kenma sighed. “I’m getting back to work.”
Bokuto seemed to be deep in thought for a moment before shrugging. “He hardly comes out of his room like Iwaizumi. He wouldn’t care about (Name).”
“True.”
But how wrong they were.
It was a week later after Iwaizumi saw the petting zoo with Bokuto and (Name). And suddenly (Name) was being requested to meet the Boss. He felt worried.
Sure hybrids had protections on them but this was a private company. What couldn’t they get away with if they paid the right people? His coworkers all looked a bit worried themselves as they watched him walk away to the office.
They certainly didn’t help his heart calm down.
He knocked on the door waiting for the voice of a much older man to allow him in. But he only heard a much younger voice. (Name) hesitantly walked inside the office and saw a man possibly only four years his senior.
Oh, he was much younger than he thought. Okay, maybe he could get off the hook for whatever problem he caused. (Name) quickly bowed and closed the door, walking over to the seat in front of the desk.
The man’s brown hair was slicked back with a nice pair of glasses on his face. His smile was wide, a bit creepy but way more welcoming than (Name) had imagined. The man watched him for a second before his smile faded and he slide over a folder.
“Mister Hiragi, yes? You’ve been working with our company for over four years, right when I started after I took over for my father.”
“Yes…”
“I would like to offer you a promotion. You handled any work I sent your way with ease. I believe you deserve a higher position.”
(Name) nodded, a smile on his face. Oh, guess he could stay here a bit longer.
“My personal assistant, is the job I’m offering.”
“Isn’t Iwaizumi-San your secretary?”
“A personal assistant is different than a secretary. You’ll only work for me. Iwaizumi doesn’t have any power over you.”
(Name) hummed, his tail swishing around as he was deep in thought. His eyes were down on the folder, not noticing the man’s eyes that followed his tail with a hint of mischievousness.
“If this is alright for me to ask, will the salary increase?”
“Of course.”
“Then I accept.”
“Great. You’ll start next week, enjoy your Friday, Mister Hiragi.”
(Name) was right where he wanted him. Just how lucky was he?
(Name) had learned the boss name was Oikawa and that Iwaizumi had no fear in talking shit to his face. The amount of ‘shittykawa’ that or ‘asskawa’ this, Iwaizumi still kept his job.
He envied him.
He wanted to cuss out Oikawa too.
After the weekend, that Monday he first started his new high paying job, he was told to make coffee.
A fucking coffee!
After that, he was told to organize a shelf that had bothering Oikawa because he kept forgetting to higher a cleaner. Maybe he should’ve read the contract first before saying yes. But he told himself it was good money.
But it wasn’t just that that made him want to cuss him out, no it was the constant touching of his tail.
(Name) was bending down to pick up some trash when he felt Oikawa grasp his tail. It was a quick touch, as if he wanted to just feel if it was real. And it wasn’t the last time either.
(Name)’s office was now technically Oikawa’s. His old cubicle was given to a new employee so he couldn’t even go back to it if he wanted to. He did visit his coworkers during breaks but he didn’t get the Bokuto massages or Kuroo scratches anymore like he loved.
No, he had to worry with the tail pervert who continuously grasped it before letting go as if it burned him. He really wanted to know what was so tempting about it but decided the money was too good to take any chances.
There were a few times Oikawa pet his hair. It usually lasted just a second, but still resulted in a purr from (Name). (Name) wondered if it was because he was missing head pats for him to enjoy the simply touch from Oikawa.
“Hiragi, can you please hand this out for me?” Oikawa asked, handing over a stack of paper into his hands without even looking up from his computer. (Name) scrunched up his lips into a snarl but hummed, turning over to walk away when Oikawa grabbed his tail.
(Name) stopped and turned back to look at him but only got a mischievous smirk from Oikawa as he let go. His tail swished angrily as he huffed and stomped away to hand out the papers. What was so fun about his tail anyway?
It was similar to a regular cat! He couldn’t just get a cat if he liked touching tails so much?
The rest of the work for Oikawa was surprisingly easy. He felt as if his workload had lessen actually. Sharing an office with Oikawa felt weird though. He had to sit on the chair across from Oikawa, effectively sharing the desk.
It was a large desk so they weren’t cramped but it still felt a bit weird. But he wouldn’t complain. Oikawa never spoke to him during his job unless necessary. He guessed the only thing that truly bothered him about Oikawa was the tail touching.
At least he didn’t have to worry about people stepping on it to though. He was free to let it move around. But he still sometimes had the urge to bite on it again. It had become a habit at this point.
“What species are you?” Oikawa suddenly asked, not looking up from his paperwork.
(Name) blinked. His ears twitched. Most people just knew by looking at him. “A snow leopard.”
“Is that why your hair is white?”
“Yes.”
Oikawa glanced up at him, as if he was trying to study (Name) before a smirk appeared on his lips.
“Has anyone ever played with your tail before?”
“I…”
“Leave him alone, Shittykawa.”
Iwaizumi was in the office. When did he get there? (Name) watched as Oikawa pouted, a look that actually looked cute on him before turning on his blank face. He guessed it was his work default setting. Iwaizumi began speaking to Oikawa about something (Name) didn’t care about so he tuned them out.
His tail curled around in the air as he finished his work much earlier than expected. He was bored. Oikawa was still speaking to Iwaizumi about something so (Name) decided to bring his tail up to his mouth and lightly bite on it, his ears twitching in delight.
“Have a good day, Hiragi.” Iwaizumi suddenly said, walking away to leave.
“What about me? Where’s my goodbye?” Oikawa whined.
“Go fuck yourself.”
The door slammed shut behind Iwaizumi as (Name) wanted to laugh. He was glad his tail was in his mouth at the moment so he muffled it easily. (Name) glanced over at Oikawa and paused when he saw the odd look he was giving him.
Oikawa looked shocked at the sight in front of him. What? Had he never seen a cat hold it’s own tail before? Possibly not a hybrid, (Name) thought to himself as he pulled his tail away from his mouth. He forced a small smile and got back to staring at his computer.
He wanted to go home.
What he didn’t notice was the smirk on Oikawa’s lips.
He was liking this hybrid more and more each day.
(Name) placed down the coffee on Oikawa’s side of the desk, tired of doing the same morning task everyday for almost a month now. But the pay was too good to complain to anyone. Oikawa didn’t even say thank you to him anymore.
When he turned to go back to his side, Oikawa grabbed his tail. And it wasn’t a usual grasp. No, he fucking tugged it. Harshly.
(Name) had always hated how sensitive his tail was to every touch. He didn’t screech. He didn’t yell or howl in pain.
No, he fucking moaned. His back arched as he gripped at the desk beside him. It was silent after his pitiful moan. Oikawa’s hand was still holding his tail while it wiggled to get away.
(Name) wanted to kill himself.
Maybe he should quit.
“Sorry…” Oikawa muttered, releasing his tail.
“It’s fine…” (Name) excuses himself to the toilet. He never wanted to wake up ever again.
It certainly didn’t help that after that, Oikawa didn’t stop touching his tail. No, it seemed like he wanted to get the same reaction that he got he first time. At first, (Name) skillfully dodged most of this.
But there was still a few times Oikawa grabbed it right before he could move it and tug it, earning a whine or gasp from (Name) each time. It also bothered (Name) that he looked forward to it each day.
He couldn’t exactly pull his own tail. His body sent signals in his head that it would hurt and not be pleasurable whenever he tried during masturbation but Oikawa proved it wrong.
(Name) decided that if Oikawa was going to act like this but not do anything further, he might as well try to fuck him. He could always find a new job. Dick was more important.
He just needed some tips.
And he knew just who to ask.
“I’m so disgusted you’re speaking to me about that man.”
“I’m so sorry, Iwaizumi-San! But you have to help me! It’s a…. Hybrid! Thing, y’know? My inner (?) animal is bonded to him now…”
(Name) was spitting out some bullshit but his pouty frown made Iwaizumi not kick him out as soon as he mentioned sex.
“Well, he doesn’t have a fetish for hybrids. He’s just asking weird with you. He just said you were cute last time I asked. Honestly, just ask him.”
“Won’t it be inappropriate?”
“It’s inappropriate to talk to me about this stuff. Shittykawa is also inappropriate to touch your tail. Also your coworkers. But he’s too fucking lazy to enforce rules so I guess they don’t matter.”
(Name) blinked. Oh, he didn’t know it was inappropriate for someone to touch an hybrid’s tail or ears. It made sense….
Yeah, in a more regulated company Bokuto and literally everyone else would’ve been fired.
“Oh, well, thank you.”
“Just have sex when everyone has left, please. I don’t want to hear Lazykawa’s moans.”
(Name) wondered how many nicknames Iwaizumi had for him.
But he now had a plan. Just ask for sex. Oikawa couldn’t say no. He was obviously mildly interested if he kept trying to make him moan.
(Name) wondered how he should execute the plan, however. Since it seemed during the work day, Oikawa ignored him the entire time. Only two times did he look at him and one was to tell him he had a stain on his shirt. The other was to ask for a snack from the vending machine.
It reached around 6 pm, the time most people had left on a Friday night. He was supposed to be leaving now, suggested by Oikawa’s stare at him from time to time. His tail swished around as he closed his laptop, wanting to fake getting ready to leave.
He yawned, as his tail reached over and flicked at Oikawa’s glasses. Oikawa looked up from his computer, a confused look on his face. (Name) grinned, curling his tail around his glasses and pulling it off his face.
“Oikawa-San, you seem to obsess over my tail.”
Oikawa closed his laptop and stood up from his seat. He towered over (Name), a grin on his face.
“It’s a cute tail, Hiragi.”
(Name) placed the glasses on the desk and walked over to Oikawa’s side. “Oikawa… do you want to see me…”
“See you?”
“See on your desk, naked?”
(Name) felt himself cringe a bit at his words but he knew it worked at the smirk Oikawa gave him. He got him so easily. His tail reached up to wrap around Oikawa’s neck and smirked.
“My tail looks so good around your neck.”
“How does my hand feel around your tail, baby?”
(Name) squirmed at the tug of his tail. He was fully naked at the bottom with only his dress shirt on. His tie used to bound his hands together which left him unable to do much. He could take it, it wasn’t too tight but it felt nice to have them.
Oikawa was way more aggressive than he had imagined. After his little comment, he had pushed him to lay down face first into the desk. Swiftly pulling down his pants and underwear to get a good look at his ass. His ass was something Oikawa had only seen through pants that hardly captured the look bare.
He massaged them before delivering two quick slaps to them, earning a gasp from (Name). Oikawa was taking his sweet time with giving (Name) any sense of penetration. It was as if he wanted him to beg for it.
Oikawa tightened his grip around (Name)’s tail and pulled once more, enjoying the whine from the small man beneath him. His body was much larger compared to the hybrid’s, covering it with ease whenever he leaned down.
He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on (Name)’s bubble butt, enjoying the giggle that left his lips. (Name) grunted when he felt Oikawa bite down on his butt, using a free hand to massage his left cheek.
Oikawa had thought only female hybrids would have self lubrication. So he pulled out a bottle of lube from his desk drawer, he had masturbated in here once. But to his shock, (Name) was leaking slick.
“You have slick?” Oikawa asked, a look of awe on his face.
(Name) blushed in embarrassment. “We can all produce slick… you can just fuck me, my body can handle it.”
“Hm, really? Then realistically, I could grab you whenever I wanted during work and just fuck you?”
“Yes…”
“We should add that to your contract. You’re a personal assistant for a reason, let’s add sex to the list,” Oikawa joked but (Name) couldn’t hate the idea.
It sounded sexy to think about entering Oikawa’s office and being told to cockwarm him during the day. (Name) mewled at the thought as Oikawa slipped in two fingers easily, he stretched his hole a bit to get him ready. Whenever his fingers went close to his prostate, Oikawa only grazed it.
“Oikawa… c’mon… fuck me.” (Name) whined, tail twitching in Oikawa’s hand.
“Want me to pump me full with my cum? That’s what you hybrid’s love, yeah? To be stuffed full.”
(Name) nodded. “I wanna see you though…”
Oikawa hummed as he flipped (Name) to lay on his back. He pulled down his pants and his cock was free to the cold air. (Name) grinned as he watched Oikawa pull at his tie, loosening it. His hair was still slicked back as the light from the sunset shined behind him.
(Name)’s tail curled as Oikawa rubbed his cock against his slick covered hole. He waited with a baited breath, his more animalistic side mewling at the chance of getting breed.
It took two more fake outs until Oikawa slammed his cock inside (Name). He gripped his waist and held him still as started out with a fast pace. (Name) cried out, legs wrapping around Oikawa’s waist.
(Name) moved his tail to his mouth to muffle his moans. Sure, most workers would’ve been gone by now but you never know those weirdos who worked unpaid overtime. Oikawa seemed to into it as he somehow managed to get faster. His cock continuous brushed against his prostate, causing (Name) to arch his back.
His ass was dripping with slick, allowing Oikawa to easily fuck him. The sound of squelching, skin slapping together, and the muffled cries from (Name) filled the office. (Name) was mainly surprised the desk could hold his weight with how fast and harsh Oikawa was thrusting inside of him.
It was squeaking with each thrust, making (Name) worried it would’ve break beneath him.
“(Name)…” Oikawa grunted.
(Name) hummed. He was too far gone to notice him saying his first name. The feeling of Oikawa’s cock inside him was dumbing him down.
“(Name), this isn’t a one time thing, I hope you know that…” Oikawa grabbed his legs and pushed them to rest near his head. (Name) felt himself cry at the new position. The burn of being stretched out like this as well as Oikawa’s cock reaching in even deeper.
He felt close.
(Name) removed his tail from his mouth and used it to wrap around Oikawa’s neck to pull him down for a kiss. Oikawa kissed him back as his thrusting began to become inconsistent. He was also close.
“Inside…” (Name) mewled when Oikawa pulled away from the kiss. He couldn’t get pregnant. Not by a male human but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t like the feeling of cum inside of him.
“You think it’ll take? Some cute little snow leopards.”
(Name) moaned. He wanted that badly.
It took two more thrusts before Oikawa pushed in deep inside to have his orgasm. (Name) was right after him, crying out before moving his tail to muffle it.
Oikawa’s previously slicked back hair was out and wild, covering half of his face as he grinned at (Name). (Name) purred at the sight of him and wrapped his tail around his waist.
Maybe he shouldn’t leave his job so quickly.
“If you guys are done… I’ll just slid the paperwork underneath the door,” the sound of paper sliding from the floor was heard.
The voice was Ushijima.
“Congrats on your new relationship.” Ushijima said before leaving.
Actually, maybe he should find a new job.
╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
╰┈─➤ END
This was fun to write. Thank you for the request!
Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @kiiyoooo @chill-guy-but-cooler @mello-life69
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