#promptober 2023

[lipglossanon]

Urban Legend

shape shifter/wendigo!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader - NSFW

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, monsterfucking, dirty talk, mentions of cannibalism, threats, CNC, rape fantasy, rape talk, oral (f receiving), impromptu thigh job lol, biting, blood kink, multiple creampies, fingering, overstimulation, belly bulge, cum inflation, breeding kink, double penetration in one hole

not proofread ✌️ it’s all made up and the points don’t matter 😜

I literally had to stop myself from writing so sorry if the ending is sudden/lame 😝

“There’s no way that it’s real,” you scoff into your phone.

“Then why was it in the newspaper, huh?” Your friend’s voice sounds tinny on the other end, letting you know you’ll be out of range soon. 

“To sell them, duh,” you laugh, “hey listen, I’m about to lose service so I’ll talk to you on Monday.”

“Call me if anything happens!” her concern makes you smile to yourself. 

“Will do, bye!”

You lock your phone and slide it back into your pocket. A quick glimpse of a chimney in the treeline lets you know you’re almost to the cabin. It’s just a small little one bed, one bath place deep in the middle of the woods. Your parents moved and left the place to you, so you’re not able to come out as much as you like so it’s a little more rundown than in previous years. 

You have to park at the bottom and make the mile long hike up the mountain in order to reach it. There’s an ATV parked in the shed for any emergencies, but you’ve made the trek all these years without any issues so fingers crossed this will just be another year in the bucket. 

Stepping up onto the small porch, you pull out the spare key and unlock the door. A branch snaps off in the woods and you shoot a look over your shoulder. Your friend’s nervousness seems to be rubbing off on you. Rolling your eyes, you turn back to open the door. 

“There’s no such thing as werewolves anyways,” you mutter under your breath. 

She gave you a quick breakdown of the last several month’s events while you talked to her on your walk. She told you there’s been missing livestock for weeks until suddenly a few local parishioners went missing after service and were found brutally mutilated days later. Attacks have been gradually ramping up, peaking around the full moon especially (which just happens to be the weekend you decided for a mini vacation at the cabin, go figure). 

The locals believe in some old wives tales about a werewolf returning every hundred years. You think it’s kinda cute they hold onto such old superstitions, but it’s more than likely some bobcat or mountain lion that’s come down due to deforestation in the area. 

You let these thoughts wash over you as you bustle around the cabin; you get everything in place and mentally thank your dad for putting up solar panels years ago. Those paired with the propane tank and generator outside means you won’t be without hot running water or lights. 

Once you’re all settled in, you decide to make something quick and simple for dinner before relaxing in front of the fireplace. Stretching out on the beat up couch, you scrunch your toes in the thick fuzzy socks you love to wear this time of year and flip open the book you brought with you. You’ve just found the most comfortable position for reading, becoming more engrossed page by page when a loud thudding knock rings out from your door. You jump at the sound and scowl over at the door. 

Another knock happens and you close your book, making sure your bookmark is securely tucked in the pages, and raise up. Quietly walking to the door, you peek out of the peephole and see an injured man slumped against the porch railing. Your heartbeat quickens and you watch as he raises a tired hand to knock on the door again. Glancing around the area yields nothing but trees and the dusky twilight. 

You tiptoe away and grab the rifle out of the gun safe next to the fireplace. As you walk back over, the man knocks once more. 

“How can I help you?” You call out from your side of the door, gazing back through the peephole. 

The man tilts his face up, fringe falling away for you to make out a strong jawline. 

“I-I was attacked and n-need help,” he winces, arm hugging his middle where you can see blood seeping through his shirt, “some kinda w-wild animal. I just need a phone or a first aid kit. Please, miss.” 

You pause, eyes glancing down to the gun in your hands. On the off chance he’s faking, well he won’t be for long.

“What’s your name?” You call out, pulling your phone from your pocket. 

“Leon. Leon Kennedy,” he grunts, clenching his waist.

You type it out in your notes as well as a text message just to be on the safe side and lock your phone again. Unbolting the heavy door, you pull it open, gun at your side. 

He glances down at the weapon and back up to you, a small grin pulling at the corners of his mouth before pain pinches his expression. 

“Promise I don’t bite.”

You gesture forward and he takes a staggering step before pausing. 

“Are you coming in or what?”

He grimaces and takes another halting step, “Yeah, just hurts to move.”

You shift on your feet, debating with yourself before setting the gun down and stepping forward. 

“I’ll help you,” you murmur, taking his other arm and placing it over your shoulders. 

You angle him in the doorway first and help him hobble over to a chair near the fire. 

“Thank you,” he breathes out a sigh of relief before groaning, “cut me pretty deep.”

You walk over to pick up the gun and move it back to the safe. Making your way to the bathroom, you pull the first aid pack from under the sink and walk over to your impromptu guest. 

“Can you take your shirt off?”

“Shouldn’t you buy me dinner first,” he jokes, but stiffly slips his shirt over his head. 

You smile sardonically and snap open the bag, “I usually don’t harbor strange men on my days off, so I guess I don’t quite know the protocol.”

He laughs but it ends in another pained groan, hand pressing against the clawed marks across his ribs. 

“Shit, that might need stitches,” you frown, pulling out the disinfectant. 

Once you clean off the area, you notice it’s not as deep as you thought.

“Luckily we didn’t need to use the quick clot,” you smear antibacterial ointment over the wounds and pull out the gauze. 

He hums but doesn’t say anything; his blue eyes haven’t moved from your face the entire time you’ve been ‘doctoring’ him. 

“Thank you for this, I really thought I was gonna be wandering the woods for hours,” he finally speaks as you tape a bandage across his ribs and wrap it with the gauze (to be on the safe side you murmur to him). 

“Well, tomorrow, we can ride the ATV down and call a friend or the local ranger since you were attacked by an animal,” you zip up the first aid kit and grab all the rubbish to toss in the trash. 

He nods, “Okay.”

“You’ll be sleeping on the couch,” you point to the old upholstered couch in question, “it’s not big but it’s better than the floor.”

His eyes flick from the couch back to you, “I appreciate it. Better than being outside, ya know.”

He quirks a smile at his own words and you give a tight one in response. 

Sitting down in the chair across from him, you give him a quick once over, “Are you okay though? Like I’m not doctor, but I can help you down the mountain to my car if you really need one.”

He shakes his head, a softer smile pulling at his lips, “No, I’m good. Thanks though.”

“What happened?”

“I have a place out here and decided to go for a walk and an asshole jumped out of the bushes and nicked my ribs, knocked me down. I got a little disoriented and wound up over here. I could hear it following me up until I reached your porch.”

You rub your arms and gaze over to the front door, “Did you see what it was?”

“Some kinda wolf I think,” his brows furrow as he thinks back, “big for a wolf though.”

His expression clears as he looks back at you, “You live here?”

Shaking your head, you drop his gaze to look into the fireplace, “No, just a weekend getaway. Shitty job and even shittier neighbors getting on my nerves, so here I am.”

He laughs, “You don’t love your job?”

“No, not really,” a small smile crosses your face turning back to him, “does anyone?”

Leon shrugs before hissing from jostling the wound, “Mine’s not so bad. I work security.”

“Ahh, any place I know?” 

He shakes his head, “It’s local.”

You hum in reply and glance at your watch. 

“Well, I’m going to head to bed,” you stand and make your way back to the gun safe, pulling out the rifle again, “not to be rude, but I don’t know you from Adam so if you need to get my attention, I highly stress knocking and waiting for me to reply.”

His gaze doesn’t move from your face, “Read you loud and clear, miss.”

“Bathrooms through there, kitchen is there,” you point at each in turn, but with the open floor plan it would be hard for Leon to miss any of this, “I’ll probably wake up pretty early and make coffee. Then we’ll head down, okay?”

He nods along with you, “Okay, I’ll see you in the morning then.”

You walk over to the bedroom and right before the door snaps shut, Leon calls out to you. 

“Goodnight!”

“Goodnight,” you parrot, giving one last look to the stranger now sitting on your couch. 

His eyes seem to reflect the firelight making you shiver. In a blink, everything seems normal making you think you only imagined it. Closing the door all the way, you slide the lock in place and crawl into bed, leaning the rifle next to your nightstand. 

He says he lives nearby but you’ve been coming to this cabin for most of your life and have never heard of any neighbors. It’s one of the reasons why your parents bought this place, the seclusion of not having anyone around for miles. He’s just really suspicious to you, even if he is cute. 

You eventually drift off, eyes trained on the door until they’re slipping shut. A loud jarring sound from the living room wakes you with a jerk. Raising up your hand hovers over your gun. A loud muffled curse makes you deflate a little. Leaving your warm bed, you unlock and open your bedroom door a crack to see Leon kneeling over the chair he must’ve ran into. 

“You okay?” You call out making him jump, head jerking around to the sound of your voice. 

“Yeah,” he clears his throat, “I sorta tripped. Sorry to wake you up.”

You shrug and step out, making your way over to the kitchen, “Shit happens.”

Leon watches you as you grab a bottle of water from the fridge. 

“You seem really interesting,” he tosses out as you drink your water, “it’s kinda refreshing.”

“No offense Leon, but this is super weird for me,” you blatantly state, squinting at him, “in all my time being up here, I’ve never run into anyone else.”

“I was attacked,” he gestures to his ribs, “and I walked around for a while before finding you. It’s not like I was hiding out for you.”

He laughs suggesting it’s a joke, but there’s a ring of truth to his words that makes your hair stand on end. You eye the block of knives to your left. 

Once he realizes you’re not laughing, he tapers off, a queer little smile tugging at his lips. 

“I think I’ve spooked you,” he sighs, placing his chin in his palm as it rests against the chair, “didn’t mean to, miss.”

Using the excuse of sitting your bottle down on the counter, you side step closer to the knives. 

A grin stretches wide across his face, “Those won’t do you any good.”

Your fingernails dig into the soft meat of your palms as you level a flat look at the man in front of you. 

“And why not, Leon?”

He tilts his head, fringe shifting until only one blue eye can be seen, “Because they’re not sharp enough, silly.”

By the time your fingers wrap around the handle of a butcher’s knife, four sharp claws are wrapped around your neck, thumb digging into your jaw to tilt your head up. Your brain stutters, trying to comprehend what you’re even looking at now. 

He’s monstrous, blocking out the light completely, his body towering above your frame by a couple of feet, not including the curled ram horns protruding from his head. From what little you can see, you’re grateful for the dark. He chuckles a low warbling sound that has your heart rate kicking into overdrive. 

“You’re very interesting,” you feel a cold press of something hard and smooth against your ear, “think I’ll keep you for myself.”

He drags you closer to the fire and you catch a flash of an animal skull in place of a face before he turns away and in a blink he looks human as he did earlier tonight. 

He smiles at you, “Gotta remember not to scare you too much.”

With all the insanity that has taken place in the last few minutes, you find yourself blurting out the first thing that comes to mind.

“You weren’t even hurt, you asshole. Made me waste my first aid gauze.”

Surprise crosses Leon’s features before he’s smiling again, too wide to be human. You can see his pupils are slitted now, like a cat’s.  

“Yes, very interesting,” he chuckles, facing off against you and blocking any access to the bedroom (and your gun), “and you’re right.”

Under his breath you catch the words, “fucking Chris.”

You purse your lips, “If I go missing, they’re going to come looking for me. They’ll know your name.”

He sits you down on the couch taking a seat next to you. Leon’s excited by your words, eagerly leaning into your space. 

“You’re just full of surprises,” his teeth are longer now, needle sharp as he speaks, “and so clever. I like you already. I don’t plan on killing you.”

You snort, “Sure, and all of those locals just fell down and hurt themselves to death?”

He laughs, a sharp bright sound that makes your chest flutter.

“Oh, well they had it coming to them. Needed to eat,” his eyes reflect in the low light, “you’re such fun.”

He leans forward and breathes in causing goosebumps to race down your arms, “You make me want things. Things I haven’t thought of in a long, long time.”

Confusion pinches your brows together, “How old are you? Wait, is Leon even your real name?”

“You ask such silly questions,” he pouts, “and yes, it is. Why? Think I should have something like Cthulhu?”

You huff a laugh at how offended he sounds but bite down the smile as soon as Leon lights up from your amusement. 

“You’re a tough cookie to crack,” he presses more into your space making your skin prickle, “think I know a way to get you to like me.”

He pulls back and tugs his shirt off and with a small flex of his arms, rips the clothing in half. You can’t help but stare at him. When you patched him up hours ago, you had a fleeting appreciation of his body and now it flares back up as your eyes trace his pecs down to the happy trail disappearing under the band of his jeans. 

After tearing the shirt again, he wraps a torn piece around your wrists and ties it off. You try twisting your arms, but it does nothing except pinch the skin. Embarrassingly, your clit pulses at the feeling of being tied up like this. 

Next, Leon strips you both down quickly; his eyes hungrily raking down your nude body as he removes each piece of clothing.  Feeling self conscious, even in front of a monster, you shift your arms to cover yourself. He grabs your biceps, blue cat eyes flashing with heat, and yanks them back up. 

“Let me have my fill,” he gnashes his teeth, sharp points drawing your eye, “look at how soft you are, all that lovely unmarked skin…”

His voice trails off as he runs his hands down your arms to your breasts. 

“Sweet little nipples that need sucked…”

You shiver as he tweaks your nipples until they’re stiff and sensitive. He runs his hands over your soft stomach and hips. One hand grips the fat of your waist and the other teasingly rubs across your mound. 

“And a fat wet pussy that needs licked.” 

You shudder at those words, thighs subconsciously parting for him as he grins wickedly into your eyes. 

“Yeah that’s what she needs, huh? A sexy cunt that just needs to be stuffed full with a big fat cock.”

A whine slips past your lips and you go hot all over with embarrassment, toes curling against the soft rug. 

“S-shut up, fucking perv.”

He laughs, a distorted chime that reminds you of a bell, and leans forward to nose against your jaw, kissing your cheek. 

“Mmm, I’ll enjoy every second of this. You’re so feisty,” he kisses down to your neck, “which means this pussy is gonna taste so good. Especially when you cum.”

You glare at him but can’t stop the slick leaking down your thighs from his words and touches. It’s your darkest fantasy come true; you’ve gotten off to the thought of someone forcing themselves on you more than you’d like to admit. And now this weird creature is going to have his wicked way with you; it makes your pussy thrum in anticipation. 

His hands distort into claws in front of your eyes; the fingers are multi jointed in the strangest of ways, skin discolored and skeletal with nails long and sharp, digging into your waist roughly making you suck in a breath. His teeth and eyes are still abnormal, but so far that’s the extent. 

“What are you?” you murmur, eyes wide as they move back down to his strange hands. 

He shrugs easily, “I’m me,” grinning mischievously he presses on, “wanna see something?”

Before you can say anything he sticks out his pink tongue. It unfurls from his mouth, long and thick with a rough bumpy texture. He laughs and pulls it back into his mouth. 

“Gonna show you how fun it can be,” he kneels down in the floor, between your parted thighs, “god, you smell fucking fantastic.”

He drools a line of spit down onto the hood of your clit making your cunt throb with arousal. 

“Yeah, you may say you don’t like it, but look how fucking messy this pussy is,” he sighs happily, laying his head onto your thigh to gaze up at you, “I’m gonna make you feel so good, little human.”

He kisses your cunt sweetly making your hips jump up. 

“So sensitive,” he growls, eyes luminous as he glances back up to your face, “gonna enjoy this.”

He buries his face into your pussy, slurping and groaning as he licks into your hole. 

“Such a fat pussy,” he grunts, mouth moving up to suckle your clit, “fat little pussy that’s gonna cum all over my tongue.”

You whimper, hooking your legs over his shoulders making him laugh at you. 

“You like that? Like that I wanna eat this sweet pussy until you’re creaming my face?”

“Fuck,” you moan, head tossed back as he dives back into licking and kissing your pussy. 

It should gross you out, turn you off, anything, other than wanting to have this monster eat you out. You blame it on your brain just giving into the craziness that’s happening. Hell, maybe you’ll wake up and this will all have been some kind of fever dream. 

You grind against his mouth and his thick rough tongue fucks up into your clenching hole, fluttering against your walls and stretching your cunt wide like a cock would. Reaching down, your fingers grip into his hair, using it as an anchor as you hump down onto his tongue. 

With a rumbling purr deep within his chest, you feel his hair shift as his horns grow out of his skull. Hesitantly, you move from his silky hair to the rough texture of his horns. You gently wrap your fingers around the base and he humps the air. 

“Grip’em,” he murmurs, eyes bright, sharp teeth nipping the meat of your thigh, “think we’ll both like it.” 

A shuddering whine leaves your lips as you grasp his horns and rock against his greedy mouth. He groans, the vibration thrumming through your cunt making more slick ooze from your hole. He pulls away to lick a broad stripe up your cunt, bumpy tongue lapping slowly at your clit making your thighs shake. 

With a rumbling growl, he buries his face into your pussy lips, tongue pressing into your drippy hole. You shift your wrists as the binding bites into your skin while you grip his horns. He purrs and rubs his head back and forth so his nose rolls across your swollen clit. Whining softly, you buck upward, grinding yourself against his mouth. 

More slick oozes from your cunt and he slips his tongue into your pulsing walls before licking his way up to your pudgy clit. Leon bites your pussy lips, sucking the skin roughly before letting go. He kisses the hood of your clit and across your mound before biting down on where your cunt meets your thigh. 

Letting go, he moves back to running his bumpy tongue through your slick folds. You arch off the couch and into his warm rough mouth as he keeps licking and sucking at your cunt until you’re crying out. 

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you pant, tugging his horns before grasping his hair. 

He hums and sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue licking over the swollen bud as you moan softly. Right on the brink, he pulls his mouth away, sticky strings of saliva connecting to your pussy lips as he denies you your orgasm. 

You narrow your eyes at him as he pulls away, his slitted pupils expanded as they move up from your glistening cunt to your pinched expression. 

He grins and the sharp teeth make your clit throb.  Gripping your arms, he slips your hands over his head to wrap around his neck. Moving up your body, he kisses you messily, tongue licking into your mouth greedily. You whimper to taste yourself on his lips. 

His claws slide down your ribs making your breath stutter, exhaling a gasp as they wrap around your waist. 

“So soft,” he murmurs, “just wanna sink my claws in you over and over.”

He slips his hands underneath your ass and lifts you up, standing to his full height where your head nearly brushes the roof of the cabin. Turning, he sits down on the couch with you in his lap.  

“You seem rather human,” you mutter, eyes taking in his body as you straddle his waist, legs tucked on the outside of his thighs. 

“Easier to enjoy a soft thing like you when I’m like this,” he laughs, clawed hands digging into the meat of your hips.

“It’s just surprising,” you shrug, arms still tied around his neck. 

His eyes gleam white before settling back into their usual blue; he shifts on the couch before a smooth cat like tail slips from behind his body to wrap around your waist. 

“Better?” A smug look crosses his face. 

You hold back the laugh bubbling at the base of your throat; maybe you’ve lost your mind, maybe this is some weird hallucination brought on by whatever you ate, but a monster trying to impress you before fucking your brains out is something you never would have dreamt in your wildest fantasies. 

“What about your face earlier?”

He rolls his eyes, “That’s so boring. Don’t you wanna see if I have two cocks or something?”

This time you do laugh, a small sound that you quickly stifle under his gaze. He jostles you as he pulls you down onto his bulge making your breath hitch from the sheer size of him. 

“The answer is yes by the way,” his grin widens at the same time as your eyes do, tail tightening around your middle in excitement. 

Burying his face in your neck, he mutters, “You seriously smell so good.”

His fingers move down and tease across your swollen clit, parting your pussy lips to drag slick up from your hole all around your bud. He lets go to remove his pants (which you’re not even sure how they’re still on), having you raise up on your knees as he shoves them down and off. 

Once you settle back down on his lap one of his dripping cocks is sandwiched between your pussy lips and the other presses against the front of your mound, uncut head smearing precum on your abdomen, making you clench around nothing. From the looks of this one, both are thick and long, definitely bigger than anything you’ve had before. 

“Eyes are up here,” his snarky tone pulls your attention back up to his face. 

You shake your head, “How—“

“One at a time, silly,” he nips your neck, “then once you’re stretched enough, we can try both.”

His voice drops a lower octave, “But you’ve also got two holes that we can try out, too.”

Your eyes flutter as your cunt oozes slick all over his cock making him laugh.

“You’re really interesting,” he sloppily kisses your neck, “never had someone so excited before. Usually have to rape their little cunts in their sleep.”

You whimper and he raises up to smirk at you. 

“Were you hoping for the same thing? Mmm, all half asleep as I stuff that pussy,” he purrs in your ear, “too tired and weak to push me off as I rape this tiny hole til I’m pulling out and covering you with cum.”

You grind down against his cocks as your nails digs into the back of his neck making him smile into the feeling. 

“You’re such fun,” he tilts his head, eyes glittering, “just for that I’ll give you a little treat.”

Your mouth drops open in shock as he changes between one blink to the next; his entire face morphs to that of a smooth animal skull, bright eyes flaring from the empty eye sockets. He bares his teeth at you in what you hope is a smile. 

“Ta da!” His voice comes out distorted and echoey, octave low and strange. 

A high keen slips past your lips as he eases the head of one of his cocks into your cunt. 

“You’re so wet,” he praises, “god, ‘m so lucky to get a little freak like you.”

You want to argue against him, but it’s hard when this monster is slowly sinking his fat dick into your spasming hole, stretching you out so good. 

He pauses when he’s only halfway inside, holding you still with his huge hands until you’re squirming. 

“Please,” you whisper, frustration making tears bead your lash line. 

“Awww,” he coos at you, “since you’ve been so good, I guess you can have it all.”

And with that, he drops you down on his lap like a stone, cock bullying all the way into your cunt until the fat tip is bruising your cervix making you wail. 

“Too rough?” He smirks. 

You nod and slump against his chest. 

“Must like it,” he mocks, “this pussy is gripping me so tight, don’t know if I can pull out.”

You shudder and drool on his pecs as his cock kicks inside your overly full pussy. His other cock drips precum all over your lower abdomen from where it’s sandwiched between you two. 

“Untie me,” you’re able to slur out, slowly tugging your arms over his head. 

He squints at you (or the skull seems to insinuate squinting) and uses a claw to slice through the tattered shirt binding your wrists. 

Sighing, you rotate your hands before placing them on his chest and dragging them down. You watch as his muscles jump and twitch under your smooth palms. Finally, you cup the base of his other cock and slowly pull down the foreskin. You drool a line of spit down onto the head and precum blurts from the tip of his dick.

He snarls and pulls out only to roughly fuck back into your pussy. Whimpering, you’re only able to loosely grip his second cock as he jackhammers into your soaked cunt. 

“Sensitive, huh,” you murmur, eyes half lidded as they gaze up into his skull face. 

He whines at your words, grinding his tip hard against your cervix making your eyes roll back, “Been so long since a pretty thing wanted to play with me.”

Your hands grip his cock and begin to jerk him off firmly, spitting down on his tip to make it wet and messy. 

His tail, which you forgot about, slips lower down on your waist and lightly teases across your clit. 

“Oh,” your eyes move from his slackened jaw down to watch his soft tail slowly tap and rub across your swollen clit. 

Your cunt squeezes around his cock rhythmically as he teases your bundle of nerves until you’re rocking against him. His claws let go of your hips to wrap around your thighs, spreading you open until he can see his cock pounding into your drippy hole.  

His tail helps you lean back some so he can leverage his hips into rolling thrusts up into your pussy. Your hands shakily keep stroking his other cock,completely  covered in spit and precum. 

His tail smacks across your clit and your orgasm hits you hard. Your toes curl and spine arches as your cunt clenches down on his thick cock like a vice, milking him until it must hurt but he only groans in pleasure. Your hands go slack and he grabs them to toss over his broad shoulders. 

He presses his mouth right against your ear, low baritone making your cunt spasm and clench around his fat cock. 

“Gotta pull out, little human,” he chuckles when you whine, “mmm, I’ve got to cause if I cum in you, we’ll be mated. And you wouldn’t want that, would ya?”

Your nails dig into his shoulders hard enough to pierce his skin and he purrs, “Unless you want me to fill up this sexy little pussy and keep you forever.”

You bounce what little you can down onto his dick, hands moving up to his horns to grab onto them. Feeling cockdrunk and unhinged, you swivel your hips to fuck him harder, wanting everything he has to give.

“Wanna feel it,” you sigh as he sinks his sharp teeth into your shoulder, “fill me up, Leon.”

He growls, a loud inhuman sound that makes your skin crawl and a bolt of fear spike through the arousal. Instead of letting go, you grind down even harder, pussy feeling sore and sensitive. 

“You want me to cum inside you?” He sounds pained and when he tilts back up his skull face has morphed into the one he wore earlier that night.

“Uh huh,” you pant and bring up one of your hands to cradle his jaw, hips swiveling down to prevent him from pulling out, “or are you all talk?”

In a flash, he has your back on the couch as he pins you down in a mating press, legs pressed open wide by his clawed hands. 

He snaps his teeth in your face, “You don’t even know what it means to be bred, do you? I’ll have this fat cunt stuffed so full you’re dripping my seed for days. You’ll beg for it constantly, needing me to breed your cute little hole cause you feel so empty.”

You whine, hands coming up to wrap around his horns again, “Promise?”

He growls low in his throat and smashes your mouths together, his sharp teeth  cutting your bottom lip so the taste of blood flavors your kisses. 

“Promise,” he mutters against your mouth before licking up the blood tinging your lips. 

“Gonna mate you all the time,” he mumbles against you as he pistons his hips deep into your swollen pussy, “have you cumming on my cock until you can’t even think anymore.”

You moan and pull him back in for more sloppy kisses, “Please, please, Leon, cum in my pussy.”

His second cock’s weeping so much precum, your stomach is a sticky mess, but it just makes you squeeze down on the cock inside you even more. Leon has flipped some switch in your brain because you feel like you’ll die if he doesn’t spill inside you.

“You promised me both,” you pout, tears clinging to your lashes as his cock presses into your cervix, “promised to stuff me with both.”

He groans brokenly, hips shuddering as he bucks into you one last time, spilling his thick load deep into your cunt at the same time his other cock spurts rope after rope of hot thick cum all over your body, jizz shooting all the up to your chin. 

He groans like an animal you’ve never heard of as he dumps load after load into your pussy until it’s spilling out around his fat cock. 

“Mated,” he sounds happy as he sinks his teeth into your neck making you scream out.

He pulls back with bloody teeth and that’s the last thing you see before passing out. 

~*~*~*~

The warm slant of sunlight from the bedroom window shines into your eyes and you roll over with a grumble. You raise up quickly once you remembered where you were, only to see Leon lounging on the bed next to you eating a bowl of cereal as he watches the small portable tv on the dresser. 

“These movies are so dumb,” he scoffs, digging into your Count Chocula cereal, “they always go overboard on the transformations.” 

Your bleary eyes squint at the small screen and see what looks to be The Thing and you frown at him. Pushing yourself up, you slump against his side, body feeling overly sore (the same as your sensitive cunt). 

“That better not be the last of it,” you mumble against his arm, making him turn his bright eyes over to you. 

“No, but good morning, little mate,” he purrs, setting the bowl down on your nightstand so he can roll over on top of you to pin you down to the bed. 

You whimper and arch up into the soft kisses he presses against your neck. The blanket slips down to his waist as he grinds his cocks against your needy pussy. He eases the head of one of them inside your hole, making you sigh and wrap your legs around his waist. 

“Gotta fill you up again,” he chuckles, “sucking me in like I didn’t spend all night pounding this little pussy.”

“Leon,” you whine, nails scratching red lines down his back and making his hips thrust into you. 

He fucks you slow and soft, rutting into your pussy as his other cock is sandwiched between your thighs. 

“Perfect,” he sighs happily, “can’t wait to give you both.”

Eyes fluttering, you moan and pull him down fully on top of you, his heavy weight squishing you into the mattress. He growls and snaps his hips harder, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass makes you clench down on him. 

“First pussy I’ve ever got to creampie,” he coos against your ear, “so taboo to mate a human, but damn if I don’t love fucking this tight cunt. S’all mine now, I own this tight little pussy.”

His words wring your first orgasm of the day from your sore body, pussy walls fluttering as you cum around his fat cock. He moans low in his throat, hips rabbiting harder against you as he chases his own climax. 

His blunted human teeth bite down on your neck as he buries his cock as deep as he can in your pussy, pumping his load right against your cervix as his other cock spills wet and hot between your legs. 

“Fuck,” you whimper, clit pulsing as he stuffs you to the brim and paints your thighs white with his thick cum.  

He pulls away with a grunt and snuggles into your side. With a soft giggle, he nuzzles against the bite mark he left on your shoulder. 

“Can’t wait to show you off. Chris is gonna eat shit,” he crows in your ear before kissing your jaw. 

“Chris?” you tiredly ask, twisting to look at the top of Leon’s head. 

“Yeah he’s the asshole who scratched up my ribs. He’s a part of what you humans would call my pack,” he leans up to kiss you on the lips, “don’t worry, I’ll introduce you after you’re settled in.”

“What?” You frown. 

“I’ve got a place not too far from here,” he gushes, eyes shining excitedly, “you’re gonna love it. It overlooks the river and everything.”

“You have a house?” Your brain feels like it’s lagging behind. 

“Of course, silly,” he kisses your neck again, “you’ll come live with me. I’ll take care of you, never have to worry about a thing.”

“Quit my job and just move out here?”

“It’s not like you liked it anyway,” he rolls his eyes before climbing on top of you, pinning you down again. 

His cocks rub against your cunt making you whimper. 

“I’ll take such good care of you,” he murmurs before kissing you, strange tongue licking into your mouth. 

Whining, you suck on the thick muscle as he rocks against you, cunt oozing creamy slick and cum all over your thighs. 

“Keep you forever,” he groans, pulling back to prop his weight on his forearms, “got me addicted to this little human pussy already. Definitely not letting you go.”

A high pitched moan slips from your lips as he slips the head of both of his cocks into your cunt. 

“Mmm, can’t fit quite yet but we’ll get there,” he laughs, “let me just slip the tips in for now.”

Your thighs tremble as he rocks the first few inches of each cock into your used cunt. He relaxes on top of you, letting your pussy cockwarm his dicks as he bites and kisses at your neck. He moves up to kiss you, all wet and messy, making you whimper and cling to him. 

It doesn’t take long before you’re rocking against him, slowly fucking the heads of his cocks in and out of your stretched pussy.  He sighs and purrs into your kisses as he tongue fucks your mouth. You can feel as his teeth change against your lips, sharp points digging into the sensitive skin. 

He works you for what feels like hours, just slowly sinking inch by inch into your spasming hole. His precum and your slick have soaked your thighs all the way to the bedspread underneath. It’s a wet mess between your thighs, but all you can feel is the pleasurable pain of being too full. 

“Never had someone take both like this,” he rumbles happily, nosing against your jaw, “god, what a perfect fucking pussy. You’re taking me in so well, such a good fucking girl.”

You hiccup a whine at the praise, walls fluttering against the stretch of his dicks. 

“Yeah? Like being my good girl,” he nips at your earlobe, “you’re the best I’ve ever had, so fucking lucky. Can’t believe I own a slut who likes being DP’d.”

Your nails dig harshly into his back as your toes curl, his words making you burn hot all over. 

“Like that?” He mocks, “like that I own you and your pretty pussy?”

His tail slips between your bodies to spank your clit making you cry out and  rock against him harder. 

“Leon,” you slur out, tears slipping from your eyes due to overstimulation.

With a groan, he buries both cocks to the hilt inside of your clenching heat. Your pussy feels stretched to the limit, overwhelmed by the sheer size of both of his dicks. You gasp and mewl, feeling like you can’t breathe from being stuffed so full. 

“Shh, shhh, I’ve got you,” he kisses your cheek, “taking me so well. Tight little cunt just made for me, huh?”

Not able to think, you just babble out nonsensical words, feeling on the edge of another orgasm. It’s not going to take much to make you cum. 

“Aww did I fuck you stupid?” He laughs, “wet little pussy just can’t handle me can she?”

His tail smacks across your pudgy clit and your orgasm slams into you, making you squirt around his cocks, too spread open to clamp down as tight as usual. 

“Oh fuck me,” he hisses, grinding himself deeper, making you wail as you continue to gush around him. 

“Got your cute little pussy to squirt,” he moans excitedly, “fuck, that’s so hot.”

He growls and you watch as his eyes shine before his body shifts into that monstrous form you saw last night. He’s huge, caging you in with his skeletal and strangely jointed body. You whimper and move your hands up from digging into his shoulders to the horns coming out of the skull he’s wearing now. 

He pulls out only to bully his fat cocks back into your well used pussy. Eyes rolling back at the pleasure he’s wringing from your body, you moan and grip his horns tighter making him buck harder into you. A few more thrusts and you’re cumming again with a weak cry, pussy walls fluttering and milking Leon’s dicks. 

“My mate,” his distorted voice rumbles, hips fucking roughly into your spasming hole, “gonna breed your little pussy, fill you up with my hot cum.”

All you can do is mewl and whimper underneath his body, feeling as he fucks harder and harder into your cunt until he’s finally burying himself all the way inside. His tips knock and rub against your cervix which set off fireworks behind your eyes as you cum one last time. 

Hot thick spurts of cum shoot out and quickly stuff your pussy full. Your abdomen looks bloated from how much Leon’s pumping inside your body. He’s snarling against your neck as he humps your pussy, dumping load after load into you until it’s dripping out around his balls. 

You must black out cause the next thing you know, you’re leaning against Leon’s chest in the bath. Whimpering, you weakly grasp onto the hand he has trailing across your stomach. 

“Finally awake,” he chuffs against your hair, “how do you feel?”

“Sore,” you croak out, throat feeling scratchy. 

One of his hands clasps yours while the other slides across your hip to your swollen pussy. 

“Leon,” you whine, “I can’t.”

“Shhh,” he kisses the side of your head, “let me make you feel good, my perfect little mate.”

His fingers quickly tease and rub across your sensitive clit until you’re rocking your hips up with the motion. 

“There we go, good girl,” he sighs, “let me play with that cute pussy. Feels so good to have my fingers on your little clit, huh?”

“Mm hmm,” you arch back into his chest, thighs parted until they’re touching the sides of the bathtub. 

“Want me to slip inside? Want my cocks to stuff you full of cum again?”

Your body feels molten with the arousal pounding through your veins. He shifts and both cocks are pressed against your cunt between your thighs. 

“‘M always so hard around you,” he whines in your ear, “you smell too fucking good, wanna eat you up.”

You shudder as his sharp teeth press against your neck, fingers dipping into your cunt to trail back up and smear slick across your pudgy clit. 

“Come on, I know you can cum for me,” he kisses your neck softly. 

In next to no time, your thighs shake as an orgasm crests and sweeps through your tired body, making you tense all over before going totally limp against Leon’s body. 

“Good girl,” he purrs against your back, hands rubbing at your waist, “can’t wait to take you home.”

Humming, you relax, letting the warm bath lull you into a sleepy state. Leon goes off on a tangent about introducing you to everyone as soon as possible as well as moving you into his house. While you listen to him talk about your new home, you think to yourself that being mated to a monster like Leon isn’t the worst thing in the world. 

divider: @firefly-graphics

[yabee-tea]

Promptober #2: Schhlump...

Oughhh boy I can already tell I'm not gonna be able to do as many prompts as I wanted to do... Oh well it took long enough but prompt 2 yippee!!

[bittykimmy13]

🍂PROMPTOBER 2023 🍂

Autumn is my favorite season creatively. October is my special girl. 🍄

Any and all are welcome to participate with art, writing, etc.

No rules, no pressure, just vibes 🍁🍂📚☕️🌥

[tinysupervicki]

“Meet me at midnight…”

Day 21: Midnight for @bittykimmy13 ‘s Promptober!

[abiiors]

PROMPTOBER '23

hello, hello!! since october is right around the corner, i thought it would be fun to release a list of autumn/spooky themed prompts for people to use. i'm going to try my best to do them all but we will see how it goes!

i'm releasing this well in advance so people have time to decide which ones they want to do and plan + write them etc. anyway, i hope you guys participate and i would absolutely love to see your fics so pls tag #promptober75 if you use these <33

typed list of prompts under the cut

1] meet cute 2] apple cider 3] scary movies 4] long drive 5] elope with me 6] by the fireplace 7] autumn mornings 8] stress relief 9] sick days 10] falling for you 11] sweet touches 12] baking autumn treats 13] leaves fallen sparse 14] i wanna marry you 15] sneaking out 16] free space 17] stealing sweaters 18] in front of a mirror 19] hot chocolate 20] stay, stay, stay... 21] the perfect pumpkin 22] bonfires 23] pranks 24] candlelight 25] lights out 26] all too well 27] ghosts 28] black cat 29] begin again 30] costumes 31] halloween

[entomolog-t]

Bite Me - Chapter 8

Aedes struggles with conflicting feelings. Right on time for the Promptober prompts Quiver and Regret.

Taglist: @smallsday @ratcatcher0325 @not-a-space-alien @bittykimmy13 @naive-bias @soapysoap69

- - - -

Previous Chapter: Chapter 7

Next Chapter: Chapter 9

Word count: 2113

CW: Mentions of blood, Adult language, Dehumanization, Minor injuries, Whump, Panic (onset panic attack), Conflicting feelings of consent

No. 

No. No. No.

Why had he said that? He was in her hand for fuck’s sake. The thought of her fingers closing around him pushed itself into his mind. Despite him no longer being restrained, in her hands he was still just as helpless, no matter the position. He needed out. He needed to get away. The space was far too small- and yet far too open. He felt exposed in front of her… No, he had been- laid out on her palm, shaking and crying- he winced, pushing the thought from his mind. Pathetic. This was all so humiliating; His fear, his powerlessness, but above all it was the bitter and undeniable truth that he had enjoyed it that sickened him the most. The way it felt to be overwhelmed… overpow- he refused to finish his thought. 

She did this to him

Made him like this

Made him like this

No. His mind winced at the thought, bucking against a reality he so desperately needed to deny. He did not like this. He refused.

Somewhere far above him, she spoke. Her voice a muffled rumble amidst the pounding of his heart and the frantic thoughts ringing in his ears. 

How could he have liked any of this? He was in danger. She was dangerous- and what had he done? Provoke her?? She had him sat in the palm of her hand and he chose to insult her? Throat tightened. She could do whatever she wanted- she had made that clear.

You’d like that though, wouldn’t you? 

His face twists, contorting with revulsion at the unwelcome thought. This was wrong. So very wrong. A sickening feeling of dread pours over him, mixing with every other agonized emotion that had bled into him- fear, anger, shame, disgust. The festering concoction wells up within him, filling him- overflowing. It clouds his vision, spilling forth as tears stream down his face. His hands shake. His legs shake. His voice shakes. Like a spool unraveled- he comes apart. 

“Please.” 

That fucking word. 

That pitiful fucking word seemed to live on his tongue. 

He chokes on it. Stifling another sob- and again- and again. He can’t stop himself-  his throat tightening, his chest heaving. Each sob felt as though it was being pulled from him against his will, as if this woman was pulling on a thread and it was he himself coming undone at her fingertips. 

A pressure, soft and light, traces slow circles at his side.

Aedes stiffens under her touch - the soft pad of her thumb grazing against his arm. Her touch was gentle, her skin warm against his own. There was a sickening temptation to lean into the touch- a yearning to let her pull at that thread, to come undone in her grasp. His gaze casts up to meet hers and he immediately wishes it hadn’t. His stomach drops. She stares at him, mossy green doe eyes brimming with concern- no. 

Pity. 

He loathes that look- the softness in her stare, the worry knit between her brows. He hates the sight of her gaze looking down at him…seeing him like… like this.

Undone.

Unraveled.

Small. 

Pathetic. 

Fuck this was so humiliating. His brain conjured up glimpses of the pitiful sight she must see- some small, frail, tear-stained creature trembling in her hand. God, why couldn’t he stop shaking?

"I-I... I'm so - I don't know why- I didn't mean to..." She can barely articulate herself. He winces as she coos to him, hushing him, apologizing. Her words strung as if they were salt in his wounded pride. Was he so frail- so fucking fragile- that he needed this? To be treated like some sort of scared animal?? He grit his teeth. 

The look of pity on her face was almost worse than her teeth on his skin- at least then he could take some twisted pleasure in the act. He resented how she looked at him… like something needing to be coddled and comforted. Even more, he hated that he understood why she would think that. 

He drew in a breath. 

Everything felt numb. There was so much noise- so much emotion buzzing around in his head that the cacophony had just become a baseline. White noise that could be shoved away to the back of his mind. He needed quiet. He needed to pull himself together.

He needed to get away.

"Put me down." Aedes voice is cold and stern- a command. As strange as it is, looking at her crying face he has no doubt she’ll follow his demand. 

A choked sound escapes her- but nonetheless, she nods, her cupped hands shaking as she lowers them. 

The moment the ground is within a safe distance, he jumps. 

There's something deeply cathartic about the sensation of his feet hitting solid ground- true to the word- it’s grounding. Stable. Certain. Predictable. 

The feeling of solid ground under his boots alone makes him feel so much more in control- That is, until he looks back towards her. 

When she’d held him at eye level she’d been big.

But now as he stood beneath her, she was utterly colossal.

Aedes watches as the human wipes tears from her eyes. There was something truly horrific about seeing emotions at that magnitude. Sadness had always seemed to shrink others- the emotion seemingly making others smaller in its wake. Yet, the sadness he witnessed at that scale felt volatile- desperate. 

“Aedes, I-” 

He runs. 

The sound of her startled inhale only makes his legs pump faster as he races past her. 

“Please.” She croaks, her hand reaching- not to grab, but instead to block his path. 

Fuck.

Aedes doesn’t slow, instead he jumps, vaulting over her hand and continuing his sprint toward- what? Where could he run to? There was no time to scale back up toward the window. Could he fit under her door? If so, then what? He couldn’t out run her- he had to hide. 

Her other hand comes down in an attempt to corral him back towards her. Aedes plants his right foot down, driving into a sharp left as he swerved to avoid colliding with her palm.

“Leave. Me. Alone.” Each word is harsh and sharp, spoken in staccato. 

She freezes, and Aedes finds himself met with silence- nothing to be heard save the pounding of his feet and the pounding of his heart. After a brief pause, she speaks.

“I’m sorry.” 

Though she had uttered countless apologies, this one felt poignant- weighing heavy in the air. There was no cooing, no hushing. Just… remorse. Before his mind can make sense in the tonal shift he hears the sound of her colossal form shifting as she stands. The sound makes his heart leap in his chest. The ground shudders with her steps, but to his shock not in pursuit. Instead the rumble of her footfalls grow farther away. 

Against all better judgment, he looks back. 

He’d taken for granted how much easier it was to look at her while she had been kneeling. The sight of her standing sent a chill through him so powerful it could nearly freeze him in place. She towered above him, the sheer difference in scale staging to behold. But no, it wasn’t her stature that made him falter- it was her actions. The woman walked away- back to her bed. Aedes watched as she sat on the edge of her bed, her head falling into her hands. Head bowed, she stared at the floor. She didn’t move, didn’t look at him, didn’t utter a word. 

Not risking his chance at escape, Aedes head swivels, looking for an apt spot to hide until he can slip out the window once more. His eyes fall on her dresser-it's wooden legs holding it a couple inches off the ground. 

He darts towards it, bending at the waist to scramble beneath it. Once under, Aedes doesn't relent, pushing further and further back until he's pressed against the wall. He wills his breathing steady as his ears adjust to the quiet. 

He hears her in the distance- Her breaths, soft and shaky, and the faint beating of her heart. Aedes frowns. He hadn’t drank enough. The pulsating call was nowhere near as compelling, but it was there nonetheless. He knew he’d have to feed again soon. Aedes rubs his hands over his face, as if he could rub away the mounting stress he was facing. 

A peculiar sound pulls him from his frustrated thoughts. Ears twitching, he listens -  sharp, almost like tapping, repeated at sporadic intervals. The sound was vaguely familiar- like the first few drops of…rain…

His lips pull into a frown as realization settles upon him. Realization turns to annoyance, and annoyance to anger. Oh, sure. SHE was upset. I’m sure SHE felt awful. He sneered. What did SHE have to cry about?

He lets his back hit the wall and his body goes limp, knees nearly tucked against his chest as he slumps down, burdened with an exhaustion that only just barely began to rear its head. 

Drip.

He stifles a groan. After this, after all of this, he had to wait for her to stop sniveling before he could make his escape? Just how long was she going to sit there and cry?

Drip.

He found his hands tracing the fearsome outline of where her teeth had been- the sting of raw skin burned under his touch.She was really crying? After all he had been through, she had the gaul to sit there and cry for - For what?? Herself?? Aedes let his head fall into his hands. He was tired. So very tired. 

Drip.

With his head hung low, out of the corner of his eye, he can see it- the purple and red speckled bruises peeking out from the neckline of his shirt. The lines from where her teeth had dragged along his skin trailing outward. Even where his shirt hid them from his view, he felt them. The dull throb of swollen tissue, the sharp sting of raw skin- he felt her touch as if he was haunted by even the memory of her. Heat rose to his face- cheeks growing hot.

Drip.

Thoughts of her filled his mind. Her soft lips softly caressing the bare skin of his midsection- the tingle the touch had left. Her eyes- hungry and half lidded- boring into him as if she could devore him with her stare alone. Her gaze flickering about him as if to savor every detail.  The way her breath hitched when he spoke - how she’d grown speechless at his words. The ghost of her touch teased him- aching in a way he most certainly shouldn’t.   

Drip.

No- He did not fucking like this. The feeling of warmth pooling in his cheeks made him sick. Despite his revulsion, despite his anger there was no willing away the sickening manner in which his heart fluttered. His claws dug into the meat of his palms, and for the life of him he wished he had something he could throw. What was wrong with him? Why.. why did he feel… like this? Why couldn’t he rid himself of the thoughts of her mouth on him, or the taste of her blood on his lips. The sight of her flushed cheeks… He drew in a shaky breath, mind drawing back to the sight of her plump lips wrapping around his torso. The feeling of pain, warmth, and excitement. His heart beating wild in his chest, her breath rolling over him, washing him in the sweet scent of her. 

Drip.

It was as through his insides writhed against him- his stomach in knots, his heart in his throat. He didn’t want to think about any of this- Fuck, he just wanted to leave- to move, to do anything but sit here and listen to her cry. How could he push all these fucking thoughts away if he had to just sit here and listen to her sobbing. He had liked it- he had fucking liked it. Her words echo in his mind- some strange little creature. He grits his teeth. Why couldn’t he just hate everything she had done? She called him a pest - a mosquito! She didn’t see him as a person. Even clothed it had felt like he’s been laid bare before her- stripped to something so disgustingly fragile. Her eyes had devoured him- taken in every little detail- and yet he was still just some strange little creature. His cheeks feel slick as his frustration boils over- the sound of his own tears mingling in with her own. 

For the second time that night, Aedes unravels.

[5ecardaday]

Yokaitober, Days 1–4

Like many people, each October I participate in my own version of the Promptober trend. But instead of art, I spend the month creating new homebrew for D&D; a full 31 days worth of it. I try to change it up each year, and in 2022 I did Arcanatober, with 31 days of magic items, spells, and monsters themed around the major aracan of the taro deck. This year, I'm going all-in on monsters, with Yokaitober, a celebration of yokai from Japanese folklore and mythology.

Yoaki are something I've had an interest in for many, many years, and I thought it might be fun to put that knowledge to use, as well as give myself an excuse to research even more of them. So while I'm making a post every day over on Patreon, every 3 or 4 days I'll gather the results and post an update here, free for everyone to read and use in their own 5e adventures at home.

The first four days, I wrote about the hahikigami, a living broom made from a tool for cleaning shrines; the amabiko, a three-legged monkey creature who likes to give medical advice; the hanzaki, a real-life giant salamander who just happens to have a yokai counterpart; and the mikoshi nyudo, a priest who's infinitely growing neck is designed to make you just dizzy enough that it can try to eat yours.

[kendsleyauthor]

🌊 Solitude + Discover + Quiver 🌊

Promptober 2023

Demigod Universe (Andreas and Dion)

~1500 words

A prequel to The Vineyard! Here is the exact moment that Dion realizes that his mysterious ex-lover, Andreas, is more than just a pretty face 😉

@marydublinauthor 🌸

Dion hadn’t worked in nearly two weeks. His fellow artists and craftspeople were growing more concerned by the day, but he couldn’t bring himself to go to the workshop. Couldn’t bring himself to face the inevitable questions of “Where is that handsome model that was tailing after you? What was his name? Andreas?”

With how swiftly Dion was falling behind on his tasks, he was lucky that his last few commissions had paid well. Anytime he sat at his home workbench with the intent of carving an amulet stone, his fingers wouldn’t respond. His mind would drift.

How could Andreas leave so abruptly? So coldly? Why wouldn’t he share what was sending him away?

Worry crowded Dion’s mind day and night. But his fretting was beginning to morph into bitterness. Perhaps Andreas had simply grown bored of him. 

He wandered daily. He was pitied at home, and he would be pitied in the workshops, so he secluded himself in the areas that he and Andreas used to escape to. Empty temples and rocky shorelines, mostly. Andreas seemed to favor the Dionysus temple near the beach at the edge of the island. 

“Of course it’s my favorite,” Andreas had said. “A temple honoring your namesake? How can I resist?”

That painfully charming smile and voice haunted him like infection in an open wound. He eyed the temple glumly. Although they had never done anything illicit in the temple itself, Dion had still worried they were being disrespectful, stealing away behind it.

“The god of wine and debauchery, offended?” Andreas scoffed. “Don’t you know anything?”

The temple sat lonely this evening. Visitors left offerings during the daytime—he caught glimpses of ripe grapes and bottles of wine. Dion wondered if his namesake ever got sick of being offered the same gifts. There was no one at his side to muse the idea with. Andreas probably would have laughed at the question.

Unable to look at the pillared structure for long, Dion ambled further and made his way along the shore. The waves roared, rushing in and out with more fervor than usual. The din wouldn’t silence his wounded thoughts.

He was being foolish, and he knew it. After all, it made sense that Andreas would leave his life as abruptly as he entered it. Someone as arrogant as him probably couldn’t stand to have only one admirer. He must have seen that Dion was getting too attached.

No matter how he tried to rationalize it, Andreas’ departure stung.

The island had weathered a storm just the other night. Clouds still gathered thickly over the beach, but the worst of it seemed to have passed. Drawing a deep breath, Dion tried to take the weather as a sign: the storm was over, and it was time to move on.

And yet, he swore every time he turned around that he would find Andreas watching him.

The water lapped aggressively at his heels. Perhaps remnants of the storm were still churning the ocean further away, creating an angry high tide. Lightning flashed in the distance, red in the dying light of the day. Too distant to worry about—yet.

A sound came from behind.

A wet dragging sound.

Dion froze and peeked over his shoulder. A choked noise caught in his throat as he staggered all the way around to face the source of the sound. 

He couldn’t comprehend exactly what he was seeing.

A grotesque creature was pulling itself from the waves—nearly twice his size. Its upper body was the bluish-green hue of a waterlogged man, but the bottom half seemed to shift between different forms, like it couldn’t decide whether to have the scales of a fish or sleek fur of a seal. 

Finally, it consolidated its form into fully humanoid to stand on the shore.

“Gods…” Dion swore, blood draining from his face.

There were more creatures, at least half a dozen, dragging themselves up to stand and locking eyes on him. He shuffled back as they spoke to each other in a strange language he couldn’t comprehend. But as they advanced, their intention was clear: they wanted him.

Telkhines. Shapeshifting creatures from the sea. He had never heard of these creatures on his island before, and he had little clue what he had done to invoke their ire.

He turned on his heel and started running clumsily on the wet sand.

He didn’t make it far before one of the telkhines seized him. Webbed hands locked around his arms, amphibious skin slick but brutal. At once, he fell face fist in the sand. Even one of the towering creatures could overpower him, but before long, three of them were dragging him into the water. 

“H-help!” His voice was raw as he coughed on sea water. He let out a guttural scream, but no one was around.

The world shook. It might have been the storm, miraculously approaching from a distance.

Water churned violently around him as the telkhines were torn away. Heaving, Dion scrambled in the rocky water. His eyes stung with salt as he struggled to make sense of the massive new addition to his surroundings.

High overhead, there was a shadow. He suddenly felt so foolish thinking the telkhines were huge. This new figure was perfectly humanoid in shape. Except it must have towered nearly as a high as the temple.

A fresh wave of fear gripped Dion. He clawed his way behind one of the rocks, gasping and coughing. 

When he’d screamed for help, he certainly hadn’t expected a giant to answer the call.

It had to be a god or demigod. Perhaps he’d gotten caught in the middle of some altercation. He couldn’t imagine that the giant was intervening with the intent to save him. He peeked out in time to see a pair of monstrously tremendous hands rip apart one of the telkhines. Rather than gore, the unfortunate creature’s corpse rained down as seafoam.

The other monsters fled, diving into the water and rushing straight past Dion without taking notice of him. He ducked anyway, quivering in his hiding place. His fingers dug painfully into the rock as he fought to keep himself grounded against the vicious current.

Other than the lapping water, there was silence.

Leave, Dion willed the giant. Leave me alone.

There was no movement.

Gods and demigods had the ability to vanish into thin air, he had heard. Perhaps the giant had already left. Trembling and breathing shallowly, Dion peeked around the rock. His heart dropped when he saw the giant knelt directly on the other side, leaning closer as though to take a curious look at the cowering mortal.

The giant flinched, apparently just as startled. His eyes were a rich, maddening shade of purple. His skin was sun-bronzed and smooth. His full lips parted with a small intake of air as they regarded each other.

And Dion knew he had gone absolutely crazy, because the giant looked like Andreas. 

The giant was Andreas.

For a second, they merely gaped. Then Andreas broke into a familiar, charming smile. His chuckle made Dion shrink away. The smile became tense, uncertain.

“I thought that might be you,” Andreas said, his voice achingly familiar but terrifyingly big.

Dion didn’t answer, shaking his head slowly in disbelief.

“Alright, I knew it was you,” Andreas admitted. 

The water shifted. One of the monstrous hands that had ripped apart the telkhine was fast approaching, filling Dion’s vision.

With what little air he had, Dion released a choked scream and lunged backward. His footing scrambled for purchase on the sharp rocks of the sea floor. He didn’t care if the current pulled him straight into the jaws of Charybdis. He could not allow that hand to touch him.

But true to himself as ever, Andreas got what he wanted. 

“Come now, you’d rather drown than see me? That’s rude of you.” Andreas pushed forward, blocking Dion’s escape and locking his fingers around his waist. 

“Let go,” Dion croaked out as he was lifted from the water. He squirmed, inspiring Andreas to grip him tighter. His vision swam as his senses were overwhelmed. He fought the urge to black out—vulnerable as he was now, he couldn’t afford to be unconscious around this monster. “Let go!”

“I’d rather not,” Andreas said as he rose to his full height. 

Gods, Dion was so far off the ground. 

Tearing his eyes away from the deadly fall, he made the mistake of meeting Andreas’ gaze. Even when held at chest level with the giant, Dion had to crane his neck. A frown creased Andreas’ brow as he regarded him. His eyes drifted away to the distance, then lit up as if he had a brilliant idea.

“The temple,” he said in that excited way of his when his words couldn’t keep up with his thoughts. “We’ll go to the temple. It’s a much more pleasant place to talk, I can assure you.”

Dion didn’t have the energy to protest—not that he would have been listened to, anyway. He faded in and out of consciousness as he was whisked away from the beach and carried high above the scraggly field that led up to the temple.

He gave up on fighting and buried his face in his hands, severely regretting the day he had laid eyes on Andreas.

[tippenfunkaport]

For the Sheratober prompt leaves and the Promptober Prompt coffee, please enjoy Bow as The Onion's Mr. Autumn Man because he seems like the type to get very into seasonal beverages.

[just-a-tiny-bun]

Promptober day 31: Dusk

Holloween night is particularly dreary, but no superstitions are going to stop these two from going out to party. Richard is more wary of giant bats than anything. Jac meanwhile is eyeing the prize in the bucket xD

And in case you were wondering, yes Richard and Jac are dressed as each other. And yes, it was all Jac's idea lol

This may become an annual tradition ngl xD

[sexy-opium-ravioli]

Gentle Tides- Oct 1

Media: Resident Evil

Prompt: Cozy/Stay in night

Rating: NSFW

Pairing: Leon s. Kennedy/Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: On the night of your fifth anniversary, Leon suddenly feels like he's not up to the task to be a proper husband. You show him that anniversaries aren't really about the time or place.

Warnings: penetrative sex, reader is gender neutral, anxiety, hurt/comfort, 18+!!!!

✭ᐧ֯ 𐩑❍ᐧ֯𐩑✧ ⚬ᐧ֯☆ᐧ֯ 𐩑⚬𐩑 ᐧ֯✧ᐧ֯𐩑★

To say that Leon S. Kennedy possessed a unique and deeply rooted relationship with anxiety was a statement not even worth mentioning. Chronologically, when Leon was young and fresh and so, so tenderhearted, panic always felt like a slick knife in the chest. Over and over and over, but as time wound tighter- as he aged, and things started getting less scary in some ways and worse in others, Leon started to realize that his anxiety was starting to change with him. 

It was your fifth anniversary, deciding to stick with him, and this year’s October was birthed in cold, damp, dark conditions. Wind howled against the windows of the apartment, accompanied by the steady rhythm of heavy rain. You both were planning to go to Oiseau de Nuit, because you both had loved it every time there was a reason for going. Every once in a while, Leon would spring a getaway or a unique date on you, but sometimes, planned events were just as nice as well. 

Leon dabbed your favorite cologne on his wrists and neck, trying to get the feeling in his chest to ebb away. Frankly, though, Leon immediately knew that even putting on the cologne was a mistake. His heart wouldn’t stop beating and his throat was closing, he always got tense around this time of year goddamn it, he felt like he was drowning-

“Honey?” 

Leon’s entire body jerked in the direction of the door, heart relieved to see that it was only you there. And then came the guilt sliding down his organs like heavy smoke, slow and dense, at the expression on your face- none of the anticipation and joy from even a few seconds ago, but deep-set worry. And that's never really what your husband wants to see, especially not on the anniversary of your relationship. So even though he’s the one suffering, he walks towards you and tries to comfort you and finally just get a fucking handle on things-

But then you hug him, and it doesn’t nearly get all the fear out of his system but it does slow his heartbeat a bit, and all he can feel is thankfulness. And burning shame that he can feel manifesting as a heated blush all over his face. “I called your name four times, Leon,”

“I’m sorry,” His response was quick and his apology was sincere. 

“Stop it, you don’t need to be,” Your words were comforting and your voice was filled with a type of warmth reserved for him. You pulled away from the embrace to look at your lover, and when he inevitably avoided your gaze, you placed your fingers on his cheek, spreading out and traveling to rest on his jaw. “We don't have to go to Oiseau tonight, baby,”

“No, absolutely not, please don’t let me ruin our-”

“Hey,” Your voice came quicker from your throat and your intonation much sharper, which caught Leon’s attention immediately. “You’re not ruining anything if we don’t go, alright? It's not the point of an anniversary to go to a restaurant, baby,” while you were speaking you were inching closer to Leon as his breathing started to even. He felt the embarrassed heat flow from his face as your warm, gentle, dry fingers smoothed over his rough skin. “The point is to spend time together,” You slowly lean up, letting your eyes fall into the shape of glittering crescents in the low light of your bedroom, and you kiss your husband softly. 

You look up at him and smile with so much love in your eyes that it makes the foundation of Leon’s chest crack like a tectonic plate, sand swirling in the cove of his ribcage. There was a part of him, burning in the back of his throat, that wanted to cry a bit. “What would you like to do?” you asked him, and it snapped him out of his love-fueled haze. Of course his mind started off racing a thousand miles a minute, but honestly, he was so tired out from his anxiety at this point that Leon couldn’t help but be honest with you. “A bath, maybe. I can cook a nice dinner for you afterward if you want,” You giggled and took his hand while leading him to the bathroom. There was your Leon, always so eager and trying to please. 

“We can cook dinner together. Would you want me to get in the bath with you too or do you need some time alone?” Leon shook his head and gave you the first half-stable smile of the night. He looked at himself in the mirror when you switched the bathroom light on, and a part of him instantly understood the concerned look you gave him earlier. He was pale, and honestly, he looked like hell. 

“I’d like you in the bath with me, please,” And that was all he needed to say for the next few minutes. There was that same guilt eating away inside of Leon when he saw you running circles around him to prepare for an impromptu bath, setting two towels and some epsom salt on the counter. He tried to set the faucet on hot but you smacked his hand away, did it yourself, and closed the drain before he could even think of sneaking it. The troublesome little smile you gave him told him you knew all this too, and it pulled the first genuine chuckle of the night out of him. 

But, eventually, the stage was set for a comforting bath. The salt was mixed with eucalyptus oil, which released a nice scent as Leon slowly lowered himself into the water. Finishing up with the last of the tea candles and turning off the light, you join in after him and snuggle up to his chest. Leon looks around the bathroom you two have shared for a while now. “You really pulled out all the stops for me, huh?” Your husband’s tone was teasing, but you could hear the current of vulnerability underneath. 

You lift one of your hands to cup his cheek before resting on his neck, and when your eyes meet his, you find his unreadable gaze already boring into you. “I like taking care of you, Leon,” Your words are gentle, and earnest. They were barely louder than the drip of water falling from the faucet and into the tub, but they made Leon break the stare and look away. He tries not to let the sting of tears form when he feels your lips gently press into the corner of his mouth. 

Languidly, you brace one of your hands on the lip of the tub before sitting up and leaning on your haunches in between Leon’s legs. It doesn’t last for too long, because you then climb into his lap, his waiting hands immediately embracing your hips and holding there firmly. Leon takes a deep, steadying breath as his eyes trail down your figure, his stare becoming more and more heated as it progresses. Both of your eyes meet. 

“You sure you want this?” You ask him. You wiggle on his lap to get comfortable, accidentally feeling the hardness you’ve been politely ignoring for the past few minutes spent situating yourselves. 

“I always want this,” Leon answered, but there was something that just didn’t fully convince you.

“You don’t have to say yes, Lee,” You reassure him, wrapping your arms around his neck and giving a kiss on his cheek. The man gently guides your face to look at him with his fingers at your chin. He kisses you on the lips with a bit more force than the previous ones you’ve shared tonight. 

“I want this, please,” His words are barely louder than a whisper, but it’s all you need to begin. In the dark, you rise from laying your chest on top of Leon’s to sitting up on his lap. In the dim of the candles, the beaded water on your skin sparkled golden light and the steam from the water warped and weaved around your figure, and Leon wondered to himself how he ever managed to find someone as beautiful as you. 

You take one of Leon’s hands and kiss the knuckles, a small noise leaving your mouth at the feeling of his fingertips finding your hole with ease. A look into your husband's eyes says that his anxiousness is gone to the point where he can properly enjoy the moment, so you decide to let yourself do the same. 

You moan at the feeling of Leon’s warm fingers sliding up and into your walls, curling right at the spot where he always bullies into you to make you shake. This time, however, Leon’s slow circling around that spot of nerves has you craving something much more filling than his fingers.

Leaning into his space to kiss him again, you grasp Leon’s wrist and slowly remove his hand out from under you. Taking a gentle hold of his cock, you line the fat head to your entrance and revel in the familiar, heavenly feeling of sinking onto your lover’s cock. Veiny and just big enough and with the slightest of curves that presses against your stomach, you feel him slowly spread you apart. Eventually, after a bit of coaxing, you sit snugly on Leon’s lap, breathing a bit heavily at the embers of pleasure crackling at the feeling of him inside you, unmoving. 

You open your eyes to see that Leon isn’t faring much better, a red blush spread from the top of his head down all of his neck, even managing to paint the tips of his ears, his chest taking very deep breaths. You can tell that the hold he has on the meat of your hips and ass might bruise later, but all its doing right now is heightening the feeling of your muscles squeezing hard around Leon’s cock. 

You brace your legs and tense your knees and thighs, rise, and then you inch your way back down, squirming your hips as Leon’s hands make you hold your pace. Once again you lean forward, hands resting on your lover's chest. As you lift again, his hips fall deeper into the water of the tub, before both sinking back into each other. Your face is now stuffed in the crook of Leon’s neck while his was resting on your shoulder. One of his hands snaked up your back to grasp desperately at your shoulder, careful not to dig his nails into your skin. The other slowly made its way to wrap around your waist, and after Leon tightened his hold on your body, he started to thrust into you more roughly. 

Not given the most warning other than your husband's ever-growing whimpers and moans, you let out your own squeak before starting to moan a lot louder. The easy, sensual pleasure you were feeling at the beginning of this bath amounted nowhere near the fire in your belly now. It felt like every nerve you had was firing at once, almost suffocating against Leon’s moist skin, listening to your husband’s moans and hushed pleas work their way into your flesh. It got to the point where you could think of nothing but his cock slipping in and out of you, over and over again, making you feel so good like it almost always does. So much water has sloshed out of the tub that some of the tea lights have extinguished, sputtering before their lights burn out.

The pleasure for the both of you mounts to a peak, and Leon’s thrusts get a lot sloppier as your hips jerk, and then all the nerves down to your fingertips tingle as your vision nearly whites out from the pleasure. You're sure your moaning has reached its height, too, but Leon couldn’t complain, with how much vibration you felt in your chest from him meeting his climax with you. 

You feel your husband soften within your walls, and you both stay there for a few moments, catching your breath and letting your bodies relax. After a couple of minutes of silence broken by heavy breathing, you start to give Leon small, gentle kisses starting from the end of his shoulder, working your way through his collarbone and up his neck. Eventually, when you get to his jaw, Leon gets impatient and tilts your head so he can kiss you properly. 

“I love you,” He whispers. You look into his eyes and smile at him, and he smiles back. There's a shimmer in his eyes that lets you know he’s sharing everything he can in his heart, at this moment. You weave your hands in his hair and kiss him again. 

“Happy fifth anniversary,” At your words, Leon gives a lighthearted, carefree laugh. He suddenly pulls you in his arms. 

“Happy fifth anniversary, baby,"

[yabee-tea]

My first 2023 "Prompt-tober" piece– "The Bridge" ^ ^ going for more of a metaphorical bridge between worlds than an actual physical bridge haha

My friend (hi Rook) put together a list of prompts for each day, so I'll be yoinking from their list and spending at most 2 days per prompt :))

I'll hopefully be doing different characters per prompt from fandoms I'm in... with maybe a few OCs of mine I'll throw in there every now and then– it'll be fun!!

Cya sometime... soon!!

[lorichu]

The Spice of Life

I don't usually do anything with prompt lists, or post any full chapters here, but even so, here we are! I've seen some works based off bittykimmy13's Promptober list, and decided to pick a word (Spice in this case) to write something with. If you're interested in more with these characters, you can check out their gallery over on my dA account. Enjoy, and thanks for reading!

------

The late afternoon rain storm had brought the steady flow of business into the coffee shop to a dead stop. Lyra had been out on the counter for a while now, but as the final hour dragged on, she was ready to exchange the colder, professional comfort of the coffee shop for the warmth and intimacy of their home upstairs. Though he was more immune to the disconnect between the spaces after having grown up in them, John was very much of the same mind.

Keeping his hand loosely draped around the tiny woman, John grabbed his phone and stared blanky at the time displayed on the screen. He chuckled to himself and immediately caught Lyra's eye when he looked back at her. "What do you say to one last drink before we start shutting down?"

"Oh, sure," Lyra answered automatically, "but..." She glanced off to the side and did a quick sweep of the shop. "Do you think this time I could make it for you?"

John snapped to attention and rapidly blinked his eyes. "Um, I mean, I guess...? But why would you want to?"

Now that his hand had pulled away the only source of heat warming Lyra was the blush streaking across her face. "Pam's been teaching me," she confessed. "I know how all the machines work, but I'd never tried to use them on my own, so she helped me figure it out." Lowering her gaze, the Mintran woman shuffled her feet. "It's stupid, but since I can't really do much else for you, I... I at least wanted to be able to make you a cup of coffee."

His heart a puddle on the floor, John's smile lit up the room. "How can I refuse an offer like that?" Leaning in closer to kiss the top of her head, he knelt down to look her in the eye. "Is there anything you need me to do?"

Lyra lifted her head slowly as she wrung her hands. "Just pick whatever mug you want to use and put it right there." She gestured down the counter, over to the space right in front of the towering carafes.

While John did as she asked, Lyra rushed back over to the birdhouse, maintaining her momentum as she leapt up to the entrance. She was only inside for a couple of seconds, then reappeared with her tool bag slung over her shoulder and her apron already on. Not wanting to be in her way, John backed up and watched in awed curiosity as she finished putting herself together.

'You know what you're doing,' Lyra told herself as she started marching towards the mug. 'Just like you practiced. You got this.'

As she reached the carafes, Lyra slowed to a stop by the corner of the coffee machine. It still irked her that she couldn't use the massive piece of machinery, but she and Pam had come up with a good enough alternative. Reaching into her bag for her normal climbing rope, she pulled something else out with it that John had to squint to make out. It was a small, rounded magnet, which she secured to the hook on the end. She swung the weighted end back and forth a few times before tossing it up over her head. There was a thunk as the magnet hit its mark, and after getting a running start, Lyra climbed up the side of the machine without missing a beat.

A flick of her wrist detached the hook from the magnet, and Lyra looped the rope over her shoulder as she got situated on top of the Dark Roast carafe. The mug John had chosen wasn't exactly in position under the pump, but she had a solution for that as well. Planting her feet as best she could, Lyra lowered the hooked end of the rope and began gently swinging it like a pendulum. Once its arc was big enough to reach the mug's handle she flicked the rope, twisting the hook so it caught the ceramic. All her strength was needed to pull the mug into the right spot, and with another expertly precise flick the hook came free.

Lyra dared to glance up at John, and almost immediately she wished she hadn't. His jaw was hanging slack, and his bright blue eyes were wider than she'd ever seen them. The blush creeping over her face made her heart skip a beat, and despite her strong stance she felt her knees wobble. 'Focus,' she scolded herself. 'You're not done yet.'

The carafe's pump needed nothing less than her full weight to press, and while she didn't need to jump on it, Lyra took great care while using it. Once the mug was mostly filled she took a step back, using the brief pause to catch her breath. Out of the corner of her eye she saw John start to move closer with his hand raised. Firing a sharp glare his way, Lyra quickly shook her head. He arched an eyebrow, then slowly backed up to his previous spot by the other counter. She sent him a quick smile before returning to task.

After hooking the magnet again, Lyra was back on the countertop. Her gaze had followed John and was now locked on the flavored syrups lining the counter behind him. This was always her least favorite part, but she knew she could do it. A deep breath didn't quite fully steel her nerves, and she tightened her grip on the rope. Now she was twirling the hooked end in a tight, vertical circle beside her, picking up speed with each rotation. When she eventually let it go, it flew across the chasm and latched securely onto the topmost drawer's handle, just like she'd planned.

She'd expected John's started gasp when she took a running jump off the counter, but it was honestly astonishing that he didn't try to grab her out of the air. He watched transfixed as she climbed the rope while she fell, which adjusted her trajectory at the same time. When she reached the opposite side, she was most of the way to the handle, and hadn't smacked into the drawers like John had feared. His heart was still pounding as she clambered up to the countertop. She ducked behind the syrups' shelves to grab a small, lidded vessel, then continued her ascent between the glass bottles. He was too busy watching Lyra's graceful movements to pay close enough attention to which flavors she was getting, but in the end he didn't really care. Whatever she ended up making, he was going to drink it.

Unbeknownst to either of them, someone else was in the shop. Bret had been upstairs helping Pam move some furniture and had wanted to check in with his friends to lend a hand closing up for the day. However, as he watched Lyra move about the much larger space, he'd become just as entranced.

In all the years he'd known Lyra, and all the things he'd watched her do, Bret had never seen her like this.

'Everything she used to do was out of necessity,' he mumbled. 'Every move she made was calculated just so to be precisely what she needed, and nothing more. Anything extra would just been wasting energy she needed to survive the night...' Bret's heart lurched. 'We all would've punished any kind of expression. It'd have been more fuel, something else to twist and use against her to get what we wanted.'

But right now, in this moment, the smaller woman truly looked alive. She carried her freedom in her shoulders as much as she wore it in her smile. By simply being given the opportunity to exist, she'd found a place to thrive.

Hollowness settled deep in Bret's stomach. 'It's amazing there was anything left of her when John got there,' he muttered bitterly. 'We were killing her in every other way, but he still found something to resuscitate. He's a stronger person than I could ever hope to be. They both are.'

Lyra screwed the lid back on to her container before carefully maneuvering her way down the final bottle. Gathering up her rope again, she repeated her trip back to the main counter. She set the container next to the mug and strolled away with purpose. With a mixing spoon braced against her shoulder, Lyra attached her hook onto the grating of the coffee machine's drip tray and used the rope to repel down to the small fridge built into the cabinet. Once again, she needed her entire body to open the door, creating a gap just big enough for her to slip through.

Curiosity finally got the better of John. He crouched down and opened the fridge's door the rest of the way so he could see inside. Somehow Lyra had pried the lid off the container of extra whipping cream and was now wielding a generous spoonful of it. She replaced the lid and climbed back out with the spoon carefully balanced between her arms. Instead of making her struggle through closing the fridge on her own, John pushed the door shut once her rope was clear. A silent look passed between them, but there was a glimmer of appreciation in that small pair of gray eyes.

Hefting the spoon back onto her shoulder, Lyra marched down the counter to the still steaming mug. She set the spoon down for a moment and rushed over to the containers of dry seasonings to grab the cinnamon. Its unruly size made portioning a problem, but she was able to measure out what she wanted. That went into the coffee first, then the syrups, and finally the spoonful of whipping cream. Leaving the utensil submerged, Lyra stirred the cup like it was a cauldron, looking very much the part of a tired but pleased witch. Once the ingredients had been fully mixed she removed the spoon, tapped it on the mug's rim for good measure, and backed away to present the beverage.

John had completely forgotten that she was making something for him to drink and didn't actually return to reality until she nervously cleared her throat. Rushing over he scooped the mug up in both hands and happily took a sip.

He immediately straightened up, his eyebrows rising almost clean off his face. Subtle notes of spice blended beautifully with the soft cream and sharp cranberry to create a flavor unlike anything he'd ever tasted. "Lyra, this is good. Like, really good," John chuckled. "Did you come up with this on your own?"

Long strands of her blonde hair fell into a shielding curtain as she dropped her gaze, but it couldn't fully hide her blush. "Pam helped a little, but it was mostly me."

John took a longer drink, savoring the unique taste and letting the heat spread out to warm his entire body. On its own it was phenomenal, but the fact that Lyra crafted it herself made it taste that much sweeter. Lowering the mug, he gazed longingly at the woman still doing her best to avoid looking directly at him. "We should write this down," he said in a softer voice. "I'd hate to lose it."

"Your mom already took care of that." Lyra glanced up slowly, meeting John's eye without flinching away. "I-I... If you liked it, I wanted to say that you could sell it to customers too, i-if you thought it was good enough for that..." She shuffled her feet and brought her hands together. "I know all your specialty drinks have names, so I tried my best to think of one, a-and thought that maybe "All Nighter" would work, but you can name it something better if you don't like that."

The mug landed with a heavy clunk when John set it down on the counter. His freed hands were headed straight for Lyra. "No, it's all perfect. Just like you."

Instead of welcoming his very obvious affections, Lyra loudly cleared her throat and took a deliberate step backwards. Her eyes stayed locked on his, except to dart off to her left in a subtle play to direct his attention. Following the motion, John finally realized that they weren't as alone as he'd assumed.

"O-Oh, um, Bret. Hey..." he mumbled, pulling back from Lyra as well. They tried to keep their PDA minimal to the point of nonexistent around their former museum coworker more out of convenience than anything else. It wasn't likely that Bret would ever press either of them for more details about their relationship, but that didn't mean they would willingly hand that information over either.

Called out and fully embarrassed that he'd been watching for so long, Bret shifted backwards as well and lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck. "Yeah, um, hi. I'd finished helping your mom, so I came back to see if you wanted any help t-too." He inched along the wall slowly until he reached the corner. "I, um, could start on the bathroom..." Without needing to look behind him, Bret opened the door and ducked inside without a word.

John's hand was already mostly around Lyra milliseconds after they were alone again. Fingers curled to delicately support her weight as she was lifted off her feet. Waiting for her was a pair of blue eyes as deep as the ocean and twice as beautiful. They beheld her so tenderly as John leaned in to kiss her.

[tinysupervicki]

Day 12: Nuzzle 💖

For @bittykimmy13 ‘s Promptober!

[itjammy]

🎃 Promptober 🎃

Cr: Me and @thefloralpeach 🍑🍑

[entomolog-t]

The Shadow We Cast - 3

The boys are back with two more Prompts down! Delight and Linger ! I love writing these boys so much- just the goofiest vibes.

How long before I make it angsty?

- - - -

Previous Chapter: Chapter 2

Next Chapter: Chapter 4

Word count: 2332

CW: Adult language, substances (beer/drinking)

Man, the food was great. Never in my life had I tasted anything like the weird paste Mark had made- and to put it on meat?? Some crazy part of my was compelled to howl with joy. While the glass bucket Mark had given me to use as a cup proved progressively harder to grip with more and more of the sauce covering my hands, I was plenty fine with the extra effort just for another sip of the cool golden drink- Beer went incredible with hawk wings. 

Leaning back, I groaned as I stretched out, stomach aching.

I’d more than eaten my fill, but it's not like it was everyday that I had such a mouthwatering feast to myself. My eyes flickered to Mark. Both in my own eager hunger and out of a slight unease, I’d been avoiding watching him eat. There was something both ridiculously impressive and deeply unsettling about watching another being consume many times more than my weight in food. Inarguably cool- but the spectacle left me feeling… less. 

My eyes met his own. Though, as soon as my gaze met his, he looked away- quickly focusing on taking another drink. I felt a grin tug at the corners of my mouth. Looks like I caught him staring. I wait until he puts the can to his lips before I speak, 

“See something you like, big man?” 

Mark chokes on his drink- a strangled sound escaping him as his hand shoots up to cover his mouth as he sputters. I can’t help but laugh at the sight of him desperately trying to hold in his drink - his sputtering turning to coughing. The mix of the panicked look on his face and the pitiful sounds are just too much, and I find myself wincing at a sharp pain biting at my sides from the laughter. 

Catching his breath, Mark chuckles. He waves a dismissive hand,

“Man, I’m just shocked at how much you ate.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“Dude, you’re what? Ten times my size?” I gesture to the pile of bones on his plate, “How do you think I feel?”

Mark rolls his eyes, 

“Relatively.” He points to the section of meat I’d claimed for myself, “Like, holy shit dude. It looks like you ate one of your legs worth of meat.” 

I shrug. 

“You could have eaten more if you hadn’t filled up by drinking so much.”

He chuckles- but his laugh is cut short as he jerks. The flinch is all the warning I get before a massive hand is sent rocketing toward his opposite arm. A thunderous clap breaks through the evening air. I feel the blood drain from my face, and I can’t tell if it's the sound echoing in my ears or if it's my heart thrumming in my chest. I hadn’t even flinched- a thought that I wanted to be able to revel in- to tell myself it was because I wasn’t so easily cowed… but there was no lying to myself. 

I didn’t even have time to flinch. 

The thought sent a chill through me. 

Mark, unaware of my racing heart, sighed.

“Ugh, the mosquitoes are coming out.” He shot me a nervous smile, “You, uh, wanna head inside and have a few more drinks?” Pausing, he adds “And maybe put a shirt on?”

I chuckle, though it feels more forced than moments ago,

“And why would I do that?” As I say the words, sing songy and teasing, I feel the tension inside me ease. I stand, my body feeling sluggish- heavy with the weight of a good meal. Stretching, I meander over to his waiting hand, making sure he knows I’m turning down the suggestion to get dressed rather than the invitation for more beers. 

Mark rolls his eyes, 

“I mean, you’re wearing enough of the sauce that it might as well count as a shirt.”

I narrow my eyes at him for a moment before looking down. 

Eesh. He… Well, he wasn’t wrong. 

Stomach to chest, I was covered in splatterings and smears of the dark red sauce. My pants were decorated with various stains, some smaller, like where I’d wiped off my hands, and one particularly large spot of sauce where I’d rested the massive hunk of meat against my legs. 

Using my forearm, I haphazardly wiped across my chest, clearing off a decent volume of sauce. 

“DUDE!” I jump at his exclamation, frozen in place with my tongue still dragging along the sauce smeared skin of my arm. I furrow my brow. What was his problem now? 

“Wash off properly before you get in my hand” He scolds. I mimic his exasperated expression and roll my eyes. He tears off another piece of napkin and hands it to me in response. Taking it, I double back towards my drink-bucket. 

“What are you- SAL!” I tip the bucket over my head and feel a wash of cool liquid pour over me- a momentary respite from the overbearing heat of the day. The chill combined with the strange bubbles in the drink are a bit jarring, but in a way that’s invigorating- refreshing even. 

Above me, I can hear Mark sputtering- a mix of “Dudes” and “whys” and other half finished questions. I throw up my hands, confused and frustrated. This guy’s impossible! I cleaned off?? What did he want from me?? 

“Dude! Come on…” The exclamation is chastising in its tone. “Why would you-” Before he can continue I interject, 

“But you said-” An exasperated sigh interrupts my very valid point. He pinches the bridge of his nose as he speaks.

“You know what? It's fine.” His tone suggests it's anything but, yet the smile he gives me feels genuine- as if he’s the one being patient and I’m the one being unreasonable. In a slow and careful movement, Mark once again offers me his hand. 

There's a slight, but not unnoticed, chill that grips me- a little shot of adrenaline at the sight of his incoming hand. A faint tremor in my legs, and a pounding in my heart accompanying a stray thought at the back of my mind that wants me to hesitate- to back out. The thought reminds me almost of getting into cold water; that anticipation of shock making you move slower, as if your brain is trying to persuade you away from that unwanted discomfort.

I set my jaw.

Well, fuck that. 

If I didn’t feel comfortable, I would make myself comfortable. My thoughts are mine to control- not there to control me. 

As if his hand were a body of water, I dove in. His hands were soft as I landed, much more so than my own. It wasn’t the first time it had crossed my mind how comfortable it felt- how warm. 

I flopped to my back and patted the meat of his thumb, coaxing him to move. I don’t miss the way his fingers curl in, or how his other hand comes up to support the first. I can’t help but roll my eyes. Those subtle gestures leave me a bit conflicted- stuck in a middle ground between finding it endearing and finding it patronising. The care to use a delicate hand with me was… nice, yet the thought that I needed to be handled with a delicate hand was bordering on insulting. 

The warmth of his hand and the rhythmic rise and fall with his steps seemed to lull me away from my irritation. Closing my eyes, I let myself relax to the steady sway of his steps. I liked Mark. He was nice. He had good food. He was fun to rile up. I felt my cheeks burning from a goofy smile that wouldn’t seem to falter. This was real. After all these years, I had someone to talk to! Someone to spend time with! There was a giddiness in my chest that just seemed to build- a dizzying surge of wild energy that felt like the room was spinning-

Wait. Was the room spinning??

I felt my stomach lurch, a weird feeling of vertigo prompting me to open my eyes trying to ground myself. The spinning sensation eased to a stop as I sat up. Seemingly right on cue, Mark lowered his hand to the table. 

As soon as I dismount from his hand, Mark’s massive frame turns away from me, rushing toward the sink. I frown as he washes his hands. I’d washed off for him, and yet he was acting as if he’d just handled something foul. As he returns to the table he seems to catch my glare. 

He raises his hands as if surrendering, 

“Dude, you’re sticky.” 

I snort.

“I am not.” 

I patted my skin. Sure, it was a little tacky to the touch, but that was hardly anything to wash up over. I’d just doused myself off in front of him- what more did he want?

While I had no clue what he wanted from me, I knew what I wanted- and that was another drink. 

Eyeing my glass bucket, I meandered over to wear he’d set his drink down. Each step was off- just a little, almost as if it was… Delayed? I took a long blink, trying to orient myself. Was I swaying?

I stumbled, catching myself on Mark’s arm. He flinched under my touch and my scowl returned. 

“Ew, dude, don’t touch me. You’re all sticky.” 

With a glare, I let my body collapse against his arm limply laying over it. He stiffens under my touch, and I feel the strangest sensation of goosebumps forming on his skin beneath me. I keep my head buried against his arm as my scowl is pulled up into a grin. This guy was really something else. Spiders, first aid, and slightly tacky skin?? I bet his own shadow could get a rise out of him. 

I chuckled at my own thought, laughing into his arm as he squirmed beneath me. Mark titled his arm in an attempt to push me back onto my feet, but rather than let him guide me back into a stand, I pulled myself up - stradling the width of his forearm. 

“Oh- Dude, come on. Get off.” He whines, twisting his arm, carefully trying to force me to dismount. His kindness is his own downfall, as the slow and gentle movements are easy to correct against- leaning my weight this way and that to compensate. Above me, he groans. Out of the corner of my eye I watch as his free hand reaches up, prompting me to spring up into a stand- feeling oddly dizzy at the sudden movement. 

He hesitates- hand hovering at my side - either waiting to catch me or unwilling to touch me. Before he can reconsider I spring into action. In one bound I’m at the crook of his elbow. Without pausing I leap, clearing the small gap between his arm and torso as I throw myself at the fabric of his shirt. 

Mark does nothing more than flinch- making a strangled noise as he jerks bolt upright in his seat, hands stiffly to each side of me yet making no move to touch me. I can’t stop laughing, My cheeks burn, my sides ache, yet my arms feel light as I pull myself up the length of his shirt. Mark leans back, craning his neck and tilting his chin away in the most futile attempt to distance himself from me. Stitches form in my sides as I nearly wheeze at the sight. 

Gripping the collar of his shirt I heave myself onto his shoulder, letting out a sigh as I try to quell my laughter. 

“Is something wrong, Big Guy?”  I tease,stifling a giggle while leaning my apparently sticky self onto his neck. The sensation of his warm skin shuddering under my touch is bizarre, “Afraid I’ll-” I pause. His skin is more than just warm, it's hot. I crane my neck, awkwardly trying to look at his face from the odd vantage point. 

His face is red- his mouth a thin line and his eyes are anywhere but on me. 

Oh.

This was too much, wasn’t it? 

I was too much.

I clear my throat, wracking my brain for anything to fill the now very noticeably awkward silence.

“You, um, mind refilling my drink?” 

A little puff of air escapes him, and I watch as a smile pulls at the edge of his lips. Slowly, he turns his head towards me, and all at once I’m reminded of just how massive he is. On his shoulder I’m eye level with him- Mark meeting my gaze out of the corner of his eye… and eye roughly the size of my head. I stagger back a half step, careful to mind my footing. Something about seeing an eye so closely was off-putting, the depth of the brown looking too deep- like something I could fall into; the colour like good healthy dirt.  

He raises an eyebrow.

“Mind getting off?” 

With an exaggerated hop, I let myself drop down the steep slope of his arm, half sliding half falling to his forearm. Mark lets out a yelp at the motion- as if a fall from that height was anything to worry about. 

I step down from his arm, my gait still feeling not quite right- each step somewhat unsteady, as if the table swayed beneath my feet. It wasn’t only my gait- my skin felt strange. Almost numb but not really? It was… buzzing?  Yet despite all the strangeness, there was a warmth in my chest that seemed to spread over into my mind. A light fuzziness that softens the edge of my thoughts. There was an ease- a comfort- that seemed to coat my mind, like a paradoxically warm blanket of snow. 

Maybe a little too warm? 

I knit my brow. 

I could fix that. 

I looked up, craning my neck to meet Marks gaze, 

“So, how about another drink?”