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ozarkthedog · 2 years

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summary — Chris makes a replica of his chair so you can finally ride him in it.

warnings — Capt. Christopher Pike x F!Reader. smut. thigh riding. dick riding. dirty talk. slight power play. degradation. slight threat of someone joining. soft!Chris. basically pure filth.

word count — 1.5k

author’s note — finished SNW and my trekkie heart is in love. never did i think i’d be writing Star Trek smut but alas, here i am. i have no shame. 🙃

☽ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♁ 𝐎𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞'𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ☾

“Chris! What?! How?!” You exclaim with confused excitement. Your jaw opens and closes like a fish out of water.

What looked like a spitting image of his Captain’s chair was placed next to his bed.

There’s no way he took it off the bridge. Or did he?

You run your fingers over the supple leather and feel the warmth that radiates under the tips. The buttons and knobs are all in the same spot. The chrome plating is sparkling and so shiny you can see your reflection.

“I had it made.” Chris explains, wrapping his arms around you.

His chest is broad against your back, “I figured it was the best course of action. I really didn’t want to have to explain to the crew why the Captain’s chair suddenly disappeared.’’

You yelp in surprise when he nips at the column of your neck. His tongue swipes away the sting as he suckles lightly on the tiny teeth shaped indents.

“What’dya say? Wanna take it for a ride?” He asks after sliding his lips from your skin.

Your belly tumbles in anticipation of finally having your fantasy come true. You’d had constant daydreams after you witnessed him in command one day.

The authority. The confidence. Those thighs.

The smutty images of climbing into his lap and riding him until you both were writhing messes drove you mad. Every time you rode him, you’d picture him in that godforsaken chair.

His hands stretch the expanse of your torso, dragging you back to reality and forcing your ass to grind against the large bulge that steadily grows.

Your cunt clenches as he cups you through your leggings and presses into the damp, covered seam of you.

“Already wet. Why am I not surprised?” Chris mocks and grinds his aching cock harder against your ass. Deft fingers circle your tiny clothed nub eliciting wicked gasps and spine tingling pleasure to course through you.

His breath is hot in your ear. “Gonna make good use of this chair, aren’t we? You gonna ride my cock like a good girl? Get every inch of my cock wet?”

You tremble in his hold. Pathetic whimpers bounce off the walls of his quarters as you dumbly nod and barely mumble a “yes” in response. You’re already so cock drunk and he hasn’t even taken it out yet.

A harsh slap to your ass shocks you from your stupor and you stumble forward into the chair as it breaks your fall. You turn back to face the rugged man and watch him slowly unbuckle his pants easing the pressure on his cock.

“Take off your clothes.” He orders as he fists his length through the black trousers.

“Aren’t you going to take your clothes off?” You ask, timidly as your eyes travel up the towering, massive man as he stands self-assured with a smug grin.

He flashes his pearly whites like a wolf playing with its prey. “But I’m the Captain. I can’t sit in the chair without my uniform on now can I?”

You anxiously laugh at his condescending tone and the slick that drips between your thighs.

Chris was a stickler for rules. He was after all called the “Boy Scout”.

He makes a dismissing wave with his hand, signaling for you to move before he sat down with a sigh. Chris sinks into the chair and spreads his thighs obscenely wide.

Hungry, power drunk eyes drag up the length of your naked body making you quiver with nervous energy. He gets off on this just as much as you do.

“Now, why don’t you climb on up and put yourself to use.” He pats his right thigh, making the dense chord of muscle bounce.

You swallow hard at the debauched image. Your silver haired Captain sitting high and mighty with his trousers unbuttoned, framing his massive cock so perfectly that you feel faint.

Silently, you say a prayer to the cosmos to make it out alive before beginning your descent.

Your hands find purchase on his yellow donned shoulders and you kneel precariously on either side of his thighs which makes the tendons in your own scream from the stretch.

Chris smooths his hands up the sides of your hips when he notices your features wince. “I think this position will feel better.”

Swiftly, he moves one of your knees to the center of the chair and with a strong arm forces your cunt down onto this leg. You yelp in surprise but it’s cut off with a moan as he easily moves your hips back and forth, grinding your sticky cunt against his thigh.

“See. Told you.” Chris jabs with a raised brow and tilt of his head. “Eyes on me.”

Your fingers dig into his shoulders as your pleasure races. Your eyes flutter open slowly and meet a crystal clear ocean that looms with a storm.

“Thatta girl.” Chris purrs. His thumbs dig into your flesh as your soaked warmth suffocates his strong thigh.

Your clit glides over the smooth material as he drags you back and forth along the tendon. Slick seeps from your cunt and stains his trousers with a shiny gloss when you feel the muscle beneath you go rigid.

A wicked gasp tears from your lips at the sensation. He’s clenching his thigh. That smug fucker.

His eyes crinkle with teasing delight as he watches your orgasm get closer with every grind. “You’re close. I can tell. Go on, be good. Just let go.”

Your body shakes under his hold. Your cunt throbs as fast as your racing heart when the sparks begin to ignite. With a hoarse shout and toe curling bliss, you come all over his thigh.

Warmth encompasses you as Chris pulls you in for a feverish kiss. His lips smooth over yours as he deepens the affection and lightly traces his tongue along your bottom lip.

Chris shifts but keeps his lips locked on yours as he presses the blunt tip of his cock against your soddened folds.

You break the kiss with a whimper as your tight core stretches to accommodate his girth. You always struggled to take his cock in this position but he always tries to ease your discomfort with raspy praise and precision touches to your clit.

“There you go, open up for me, Sweet Girl.” Chris coos.

Your body shudders at the intense feeling of being so full. The bulbous head nestles against your cervix making Chris hiss now that you’re finally seated on his length.

Your velvet walls swirl around him as you drag yourself along his cock, rising and falling in a slow, steady motion until your nerves beg for another orgasm.

Chris senses the change. He unlocks his arms from around your waist and leans back in the chair. He’s almost tempted to put his hands behind his head and really enjoy himself.

“Go on. Bounce for your Captain.” He commands with bright, feral eyes.

Sweat beads his brow when your cunt locks around his length and milks him as your hips rise up only to drive back down with a hearty thwack.

His eyes travel your body and over your curves before landing on your cunt. It’s puffy, dripping gooey slick, and spread so wide by his cock. A thick ring of cream gathers at the base and soaks his auburn curls.

He relishes your heated cries and soft mewls as you fuck yourself on his cock.

“You’re drippin’ down my balls, Sweet Girl. Makin’ such a mess.” He murmurs into your chest. He laves at your skin and suckles harshly on your pert nips eliciting painful, angelic melodies from your lips.

“Maybe I should call Spock to come over. Show him how filthy my girl can be.” He halfheartedly threatens but grins when you clench and a copious amount of arousal floods his cock.

Your heart jumps into your throat at the idea of Spock watching you like this. You’d always had a bit of a crush on the Vulcan after working with him for years. Chris got you to admit it after a bottle of wine one night and from then on used it to fuel your flames whenever he could.

He roughly grasps your hips and fucks up into your soaked heat, forcing his fat cock deeper. His leaky crown grazes your cervix with cruel kisses and forces you to the blissful edge before you could stop him.

Your nails scratch his covered shoulders as you tumble down the peak and scream out your release coating his girth in a glistening sheen of slick.

Chris chases his pleasure after watching you unfurl, bucking against your hips with his powerful thighs. His sack tightens and he adds to the sticky, gluey mess with a feral growl holding you close to his chest overcome with the need to possess.

Chris’s chest rumbles with satisfaction as he feels your body tremble from the intense aftershocks. You stay curled together until your heartbeats slow to a steady rhythm and sleep tugs at your senses.

“Was that everything you were hoping for?” He asks softly while smoothing a warm hand along your spine.

You purr in response and clench your worn cunt for added measure making him groan.

He stands suddenly, catching you off guard and you scramble to wrap your arms securely around his shoulders.

“Well, that was round one,” He walks effortlessly with you in his hold towards the showers. “We gotta get clean so we can get dirty again.”

Follow my side blog @ozzieslibrary for fic updates!

#captain pike #christopher pike x reader #christopher pike x you #Star trek #star trek strange new worlds #strange new worlds #anson mount

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jxpper · 9 months

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i wrote a little picard/crusher emo missing scene thingy. figured I would share it here 🩶

"I am a woman of science, Jean-Luc, and yet I prayed over your graying skin. I offered God anything to save you, knowing I had nothing He could’ve wanted in return. And when I close my eyes at night, I can still hear the metallic clang of each piece as I painstakingly removed it and dropped it into the surgical basins."

“If I allow myself to remember, I fear it may break me,”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

titled: The Valor, The Victor

summary: after Admiral Satie blames the Captain for the battle of Wolf 359, Beverly and Jean-Luc share an emotional reflective moment together.

rated: t

word count: 3,090

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, romance, missing scene, unresolved tension, introspection, psychological trauma, forehead touching, all the feelings, insight into jean-luc’s feelings

takes place in s04e21 ‘The Drumhead’

AO3 link

ffnet link

#startrek #Star Trek #Star Trek TNG #star trek the next generation #Beverly crusher #jean luc picard #picard x crusher #picard/crusher #p/c #picrusher #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #trek fic #Star Trek fanfiction

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blurredcolour · 2 years

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The Hunter's Moon | Part Five

The Hunter’s Moon Masterlist

Summary: The light of the Hunter’s Moon reveals many truths to you and Austin, and your relationship will never be the same.

Pairing: Werewolf!Austin Butler x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Language, Discussion of Hunting and Trapping, Threats of Gun Violence, Injury, Wounds, Blood, Supernatural Themes, Mature/Explicit Themes [oral – m/f receiving, fingering – m/f receiving, discussion of cum, creative lube, penetration, unprotected sex] - 18 + Only

GIF Credit: @karamelcoveredolicity

Author’s Note: Inspired by the headcannons of @sassy-ahsoka-tano, written with her blessing. Happy Hunter’s moon, werewolf fans! I bumped up the release of this chapter to coincide with the rising of the Hunter’s Moon. I hope you enjoy!

Song suggestion: Champion NEONI

Word Count: 4075

—☽•✧•◐•✧•◯•✧•◑•✧•☾—

Early October - The Hunter’s Moon

You missed him, even though he was only gone seven days, even though you’d only made out for five minutes, even though you’d only known him for a month-and-a-half. He turned out to be a diligent communicator; he had let you know when he got home that night, unscathed by Jonah, and had messaged you at least twice a day since. You were treated to photos of Ohio, poetry quotes from the book he was reading, good morning and good night greetings.

Returning his generosity, you sent him photos of the library, a snippet of an interesting document you found in basement archives, and a shot of the first red leaf you found along the lake shore. Somehow, knowing he wasn’t there made you feel more vulnerable. The traumatic replay in your head had lessened. Was mostly relegated to the early morning hours. Falling asleep was no longer a problem. Staying asleep was.

Sunday night, the night of the Hunter’s Moon, you gave up after tossing and turning sleeplessly. You sighed grumpily and made a cup of herbal tea. Wrapping yourself in a blanket, you settled onto the couch in your sunroom. The fresh air helped ease the trapped, restless feeling. The light of the full moon lit your yard and the lake brilliantly as you did your best to focus on the crispness of the air, the soothing flavour of the tea.

So far, no howls. So far, a normal full moon night. Until you heard a tremendous yelp from the woods separating your property from Jonah’s.

“God dammit Jonah Lannet.” You snarled and lurched to your feet. It was not the first time that crooked old ghoul had set traps. Nor was it the first time you had taken it upon yourself to let the poor creatures free before he could end their lives. The disgust you felt for that man and his disdain for nature burned away your fear.

You clutched the blanket around your shoulders, grabbing the leather work gloves you left on the ledge beside the door, and shoved your feet into a pair of old boots you reserved for outdoor chores.

You tramped through the woods, the moon providing more than enough light for you to see. To scan the undergrowth for the target of your rescue mission. You sidled through a set of bushes and stumbled to a stop as it was not a fox with its foot clamped in the trap, struggling to free itself. It was a wolf. More specifically, it was the sandy blond wolf who had defended you the night of the last full moon.

It froze as soon as it heard you, brilliant blue eyes glowing with the reflected light of the moon, eyeing you intensely.

“Ok…” you said soothingly, and it responded with a snarl, trying to position its body between you and its leg in the jaws of a particularly gruesome steel trap. The rusty metal was biting into the flesh of its paw. “I’m here to help.” You continued softly, soothingly, carefully pulling the blanket off your shoulders.

The blanket was to cover its eyes, to lessen its fear and protect you from its mouth. You were unable to deny that the size of the animal needing rescue gave you pause, seriously making you reconsider your plan. The snap of a twig from further into the trees sent your head whipping towards the sound. Your mouth went dry at the sight of Jonah Lannet, rifle leveled directly at the wolf, creeping into the clearing.

“Step away from that beast you dumb child, you have no idea what a monster he really is.” He growled threateningly.

All he did was strengthen your resolve. Stepping carefully, you smoothly inserted yourself between Jonah and the wolf, clenching your fists. You drew on some deep indignation, some ancient authority that must have been imbued in you when you accepted your Master’s of Library Science diploma, and stared at him imperiously. Your voice was as sharp and cold as honed steel as you spoke.

“You will lower your rifle when you speak to me Jonah Lannet. And if you ever set a trap on my property again, I will have the sheriff attend your house immediately. Who knows what poison and other torture devices they might find there.” Your insides were trembling like jelly, the word ‘monster’ rebounding around your brain, but you grit your teeth and stomped it down. Poured all your disdain for the old man into your unwavering glare.

His eyes locked on yours, trying to challenge your resolve, to cow you into breaking the eye contact. Time became irrelevant, you did not care how long it would take, you would not budge. Eventually he spit a disgustingly generous gob of chewing tobacco at your feet before turning, muttering to himself bitterly as he ambled off towards his home.

Once you could no longer hear his footsteps you let out a slow exhale before turning back to the trapped animal. Its expressive eyes had never left you, and you could have sworn they held shock as you slowly crouched, pulling on the gloves, as you continued to speak in a low, gentle tone.

“I am going to cover your face now, just take it nice and easy, I’m here to help you.”

You knew there was no way the wolf could understand you…. right? But the tone had worked with the previous animals you had rescued from Jonah.

‘Monster.’ Jonah’s voice echoed in your mind, and you swallowed tightly, covering its head…his head?...with a careful toss of the blanket. Pushing down on the springs of the trap with all your strength, it eventually creaked open, and the wolf pulled its foot free with a heart-rending vocalization of pain.

It thrashed away, tossing the blanket from its head as you pulled back, letting the trap snap shut so it could not injure anything else. You pulled off the gloves, standing to your full height. You were startled to see the wolf had not immediately bolted; that it was walking toward you. You were once again drawn to those eyes…a flash of Austin’s face, that first day you’d met him on the flat of your back, raced through your mind. Your eyes widened as you were finally able to place them.

Standing stalk still, you swallowed roughly as the cool wetness of the wolf’s nose pressed into your palm, the remarkably soft fur of its muzzle sliding along your skin. Taking a shaky breath, you ever so slowly lifted your trembling hand to softly lay your palm on the luxurious fur of its head. You bit your lip as it stretched its neck to press up into your touch, body leaning against your leg affectionately.

Cautiously, you lightly stroked your hand along its fur, overs its ears, smiling faintly at the contented sigh. After a minute or so, it stood fully, turning to head off into the trees. Putting pressure on its back leg, it stumbled with a whine, and you winced in sympathy.

“Let me help you…” You swallowed back your shock as it turned back to look at you. “Let me clean and bandage it, god knows how old and filthy that trap is…”

The wolf eyed you thoughtfully licking its lips nervously. You took a deep breath.

“Austin…please…” You held your breath, feeling more than a little insane, but the way his head snapped up sharply was all the confirmation you needed. Holy shit. You stepped forward, leaning down to grab the blanket before moving towards your house, looking back to see him limping along behind you.

You slowed your pace, holding brush out of the way to ease his path. There was no way you could have carried him, so you settled for walking with him encouragingly. The sound of a distant howl, echoing across the lake, and the answering cry of two other wolves nearby, sent chills down your spine. Austin would not stand a chance if the pack found him right now.

Austin seized the hem of your sleep shirt in his teeth and tucked up his injured leg, loping on his three good legs to hurry you toward your house. You scrambled alongside him, stumbling a little as he shoved you up the stairs with his muzzle against your butt, through your back door. You closed the door behind him, ensuring it was locked securely, before you turned to look at the massive wolf so out of place in your kitchen.

“I’ll get the first aid kit, just wait here.” You dropped the blanket and gloves by the door, getting towels and your first aid kit from the bathroom. He laid down on the rug in front of your sink, the injured paw outstretched to avoid putting any unnecessary pressure on it. You knelt beside it carefully and looked to him. “I’m going to start by rinsing it with saline…do you want me to cover your face again?”

He shook his head from side-to-side and you found yourself staring. It really was true…he shifted his leg a little, whining again, drawing your attention back to the injured paw in front of you. You grabbed the cannister of sprayable saline, gingerly lifting his paw to set it on a towel before spraying saline into each of the puncture wounds to flush them out. He whined and you apologized profusely, talking him through each step as you then bandaged and wrapped his paw.

“I’m sorry I don’t have anything for the pain…” You murmured, moving to sit on the ground next to his head. He shifted up onto his front paws to press his muzzle into your cheek affectionately, licking a long stripe up your jaw with his warm tongue, before shuffling along the floor to lay his head on your lap. His brow was furrowed in pain, and you gently laid one hand on his flank, stroking along his head and ears soothingly with the other.

His eyes drifted shut, a deep, contented sigh shuddering out of him. You continued to smooth his fur as his breath evened out, as his head grew heavier in your lap, as he fell asleep under your ministrations. You smiled sleepily, your own eyelids growing heavier by the moment. Feeling remarkably calm, and relieved to be not quite so insane, you fell asleep there on the floor, back resting against your lower cabinets.

When you opened your eyes the next morning, the weak light of dawn was filtering through the windows. You were cold, in only your sleep wear, and stiff from sleeping in a sitting position on the floor. You winced at the grey brightness, snapping your eyes shut immediately after opening them. The warmth under your palms, in your lap, reminded you of the events of the night before and you slowly re-opened your eyes. Laying there, head still in your lap, was a very naked Austin. At some point, he had shifted back to a human. His arms were wrapped around your back and in front of your crossed legs, holding you tightly.

You quickly averted your gaze and tried to cover him with a towel to protect his modesty. Not that he had anything to be ashamed of.

Despite your efforts to avoid disturbing him, his breathing changed, a sigh escaping his lips before his long eyelashes swept up to reveal those eyes. They were truly so striking; you felt foolish for not making the connection sooner. They looked at up you filled with awe then. Carefully disentangling himself from your lap, he rose to sit beside you, cupping your face with his warm palms. It made you shiver as his slender fingers stretched all the way the sensitive flesh of your ears.

“You’re still here…” He breathed; voice gravelly as he spoke for the first time that day.

Your eyebrows pulled up in surprise, somehow finding the statement unexpected.

“What do you mean? You’re hurt…I couldn’t just leave…” Your words were cut off by the press of his warm lips to yours in a deep and appreciative kiss.

Shifting closer, your arms slid around his waist, making him inhale sharply and pull back from your lips.

“Shit, you’re freezing.” His hands released your face to rub along your arms to try and warm them with friction.

“Sorry…” You murmured, licking your lips, still savouring the taste of his kiss.

He groaned openly as he watched the path of your tongue.

“Truly I have never encountered someone so innately arousing. You have no idea, do you?”

That was the second time he had startled you that morning. Heat flooded your cheeks; travelled down your neck and chest.

“And then you smell so fucking good, I’ve been hard for weeks…” He continued frankly, hands traveling up your arms to grip your back. “Didn’t even know your name…but I knew I would remember your scent for the rest of my life.” He pulled you forward from your seat against the cupboards, turning your body to lay you on the rug that was still warm from his body heat. “And then you protected me…you saw what I really am, and you stayed.” He settled over you, resting on his forearm while his other hand cupped your face again. “You’re stuck with me now…I’ll never be able to let you go.” He spoke the last in a hushed whisper against your lips before subjecting them to a meltingly sensual kiss that ignited a fire deep in your abdomen, the heat of it radiating outwards, warming your chilled extremities.

You had been paralyzed by the emotion behind his words, staring at him wide-eyed, easily manipulated by his strong hands. But as he kissed you, you found the ability to move again, arms snaking around his torso to hold to him, legs parting to accommodate him. He quickly took you up on the invitation, settling between your thighs, pressing tightly against your pelvis. He had not been lying, you could feel his stiff cock pressing against you through the soft, thin fabric of your clothing.

Hearing your hungry moan, he rolled his hips forward, teasingly, pressing against the source of your pleasure. Your lips tore from his as your head fell back, gasping for breath raggedly.

“Feeling warmer now?” He smirked crookedly, watching your face ravenously as his hips continued rocking against you, more moans tumbling from your lips as your fingers dug into the skin of his back. Your inability to answer made him chuckle breathily before his hips stilled. He shifted back, ridding you of your clothing with gentle expediency before laying you back down. You shuddered as you felt him bury his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent greedily before his tongue mapped the skin of your torso. His mouth was scorching compared to your cool skin, making your back arch needily, whimpering as he sampled the taste of your skin voraciously.

Lower and lower he moved, your legs parting further and further until your hips protested at the stretch, but your hint had not gone unnoticed. He nuzzled his face between your thighs, making you mewl at the subtle scratch of his facial hair against your fragile skin.

“You smell even better here, didn’t think it was possible…but here you go again surprising me.” He spoke huskily, hot breath brushing against you, making your thighs tremble.

His hands settled on your inner thighs, holding them apart before, at last, he caressed your throbbing desire with his lips. Your head snapped to the side with a cry – a combination of relief and pleasure. He hummed against your flesh appreciatively, the vibration traveling up your spine, before devoting his focus entirely to destroying your ability to think, to breathe, with his wickedly talented mouth. Just the right combination of plush lips, hints of sharp teeth, and the slick heat of his tongue. Your fingers anchored themselves in his sandy blonde locks, needing to hold to something to tie you to this plane as he pushed you further and further toward ecstasy.

A whimper of protest fell from your lips as he pulled back, fingers tugging along his pursed lips, wiping them clean as he sat up.

“Now I saw something…ah, there…” His long arm reached up onto the counter, grabbing the jar of coconut oil sitting there, ready to be used for cooking. Such a versatile product.

You raised up on your elbows to watch him curiously, chest rising and falling rapidly thanks to his diligent attentions. Your eyes fell on his erection, standing proud between his legs, head pressing against his stomach, weeping for attention. You licked your lips, but his chuckle drew your attention back to his face.

“Another time maybe, I just really need to be inside you right now.” He chewed his lip savagely as he opened the container, scooping a generous amount with his fingers, manipulating the semi-solid with his hot hands until they shimmered with slick. The kitchen smelled like a tropical vacation.

“Austin!” The feel of his fingers pressing at your entrance made you gasp, made you buck eagerly, made you slide off your elbows onto the flat of your back. Thrusting, stretching, stroking. One finger at first, then two, and ultimately three worked you open, trying to prepare you for his substantial cock.

“Oh fuck, now you smell like dessert.” He growled and used his other hand to spread more coconut oil onto his cock, exhaling thickly, jaw working in restraint. Pulling his fingers from inside you, he stretched over you, eyes seeking yours. “Are you ready?” He asked tenderly, even as his cock strained towards your slick warmth.

You nodded quickly, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him down to kiss him wantonly. He groaned softly at your initiative and gripped his length, guiding it inside you, easing deeper and deeper, shuddering as your body took him in eagerly. His head hung over your shoulder, eyes squeezed shut, mouth hanging open at the feel of your around him. You arched your neck back, overcome by his expression, by the fullness inside you.

Your legs wrapped around his hips, the side of your foot pressing against his ass cheek, spurring him forward until you had taken his entire length.

“Fuck yes…” You exhaled, voice trembling as you clung to the back of his neck.

“Greedy little guardian angel, aren’t you.” He panted against your lips before rocking his hips forward, making you both exclaim in sweet agony.

The pace he set was not too fast, but neither was it too slow. It was a steady, insistent rhythm that reflected your mutual need to find release. Cries and moans sounded around the pair of you, clinging to one another, bodies moving synchronously as though your coupling was not your first, but your thousandth.

“You’re close…” He breathed against your kiss-bruised lips, reading the indications of your body clearly.

“Uh huh!” You agreed, voice tight with impending bliss.

He sped up then, the last of his restraint hanging by a thread, desperate to watch you cum. Desperate to join you. The wail that accompanied your orgasm was echoed with his hoarse cry as your climax caused his to overtake him. The feel of his hot, viscous release inside you prolonged your pleasure, made you shudder one last time.

You watched him collapse, boneless, onto the floor to your side. Breaths came rapidly and hearts raced as the aftereffects still had a hold of the two of you. Rolling to your side, you lay on his chest above his rapidly beating heart, smiling shyly as he lay his hand over yours warmly. You pressed your lips to his shoulder softly before pushing yourself up to try and locate the blanket.

“Where are you going?” He asked, eyes opening just enough to track your movements.

“I am not laying on this floor without a blanket again.” You spotted it near the back door and stood, knees admittedly still unstable, to go fetch it. You squealed a little in surprise as he stood and hauled you up into his arms.

“Bed is better…Where is it?” He grinned against your neck, wrapping your legs around his waist to get a better grip on you.

“Upstairs…” You mumbled and then tensed. “Wait! Your foot!”

“Oh, that’s already healed.” He grinned cockily and carried you up to the upper floor.

It was an open space at the top of the stairs, with some dormer windows, but no walls. You had turned it into your bedroom, with a reading nook and a desk tucked into the spaces beneath the windows. He sat on the edge of your bed, settling you on his lap as he sought the box of tissues on the night table.

“You’re leaking my cum all over.” He said, sounding incredibly pleased with himself, but cleaned you up with gentle tenderness before tucking the two of you under the cozy blankets.

You wanted to spend more time in that moment, soak in the afterglow, but the warmth of the blankets combined with his body heat had you blinking drowsily.

“Sleep” He whispered softly, kissing your temple, guiding your head to rest on his chest. You gave in with a dreamy sigh, tension leaving your body as you sunk into the deepest sleep you’d had in over a month.

—☽•◐•◯•◑•☾—

After all he had cursed the universe, he was utterly astonished that it had sent him you. He watched you fall asleep on his chest, drinking in the way your scent mingled with his, the softness of your skin pressed against him, the way your body leeched off his heat. A soft smile settled on his features, and he dozed patiently, frequently opening his eyes to bask in the fact that you were still there.

His biggest fear had failed to materialise. Not only had you figured it out on your own, which impressed him, you had taken care of him. And the way you had stared down that crazed hillbilly…it made his heart tighten fondly at the memory of it. It was edging closer to noon by the time you woke with a languid stretch against him. He swallowed thickly, gritting his teeth against the immediate rush of blood to his groin, and took a slow breath.

“Hey.” You murmured up at him shyly, undoing all his hard work.

“Hey.” He rasped back at you, but much to his delight you crawled up his body and had your way with him.

He cradled you against his chest warmly as you came down from the high, fingertips running up and down your spine soothingly.

“We should get some food…” He finally admitted, reluctant to leave the bed, to let go of you, but he was beyond starved which meant you were probably hungry too.

The two of you combined your efforts, made a very large breakfast, and took it back to bed. Once bellies were full, he swallowed and asked if you had any questions. You had been exceedingly gracious, not mentioning it once, but despite his fears he could see the curiosity in your eyes. Hesitantly, you started to ask questions, polite superficial ones at first. As he started to answer them, started to open up, there was such a relief. A weight lifted from his shoulders; a knot loosened beneath his breastbone. Once he started talking it was hard to stop.

You listened so closely, giving him the right minimal encouragers, the right follow-up questions, which had him spilling his darkest secrets. He hadn’t noticed the tears blurring his vision as he spoke, tugging at his fingers, stroking his neck, pulling at his lips absently. Hadn’t noticed them until you reached out to gently wipe them from his cheeks. He felt your touch, not just on the surface, but in that dark place deep inside him where he had thrown all the anguish in hopes of it being forgotten.

It all came spilling out of him and you pulled him close, guiding his head to lay on your shoulder. He was completely weakened by your patience and support. Eventually he had nothing to hide. He was emotionally stripped and laid bare before you, and still you held him, stroking his hair, murmuring words of comfort.

He truly would never be able to let you go.

—☽•✧•◐•✧•◯•✧•◑•✧•☾—

Read Part Six

The Hunter’s Moon Masterlist

Tag List: @karamelcoveredolicity, @mymamalife, @thatonemoviefan, @bxxbxy, @lumosllwyni, @slowsweetlove, @namoreno, @2lekk

#austin butler x reader #austin butler x you #austin butler x y/n #x y/n #x reader #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #austin butler smut #austin butler x g/n reader #gn!reader #werewolf aus #werewolf austin #werewolf!austin #werewolf au #austin butler #thehuntersmoon #blurredcolour

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quichelewoof · 1 year

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Lortober Day 23 - Store

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

.............Hickory Clocks.............

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

●◉◎◈◎◉● Ditzy | Clutterbug | On-the-go x ●◉◎◈◎◉● “I wanted to figure out why I was so busy, but I couldn't find the time to do it.” ― Tom Stocker

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

⌜ • ° + ° • ⌝ .Appearance. ⌞ ° • + • ° ⌟

A Jocol from Goldsea, her lands colours are etched into her very fur. Golden like wheat across the plains of her back, flecks of white look like sunlight reflecting like the sheen in fields. Always re-arranging her glasses, Hickory seems to hide her gorgeous lime eyes to all but the closest of wolves. Her neck furs is riddled with curls and twists from her never-ending fiddling and she's never far from looking like a magpie bush with trinkets, accessories and papers sticking out from between her clothes and fur. In other words, what a messy but pretty wolf.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

⌜ • ° + ° • ⌝ .Personality. ⌞ ° • + • ° ⌟

Definitely not the leading sort, Hickory struggles always to know what the next step is in life and her day-to-day life. Suppose she's not collecting a pile of forgotten planners, ignoring her shelves to leave her books on random countertops or promising herself that she'll do that job on Lunesday. In that case, Hickory is a frazzled, but kindly storekeeper, always willing to sell at a discount... please take her stuff... she has no more space for it in her den. Oh, why did she collect all those stamps...

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

⌜ • ° + ° • ⌝ ...History... ⌞ ° • + • ° ⌟

Goldsea, the land of innovation and knowledge, the lead in progression. Organised, straight-laced and timely. Everything that Hickory wasn't. Always last to turn in her work (if she even did that), never able to sit still in class or away with the fey in her daydreams, Goldsea was the last place that was welcoming to Hickory. Well, if Goldsea wasn't to be welcoming or accomodating to her, then Hickory would go elsewhere. And that she did. Travelling across the borders of Goldsea before the drought hit, Hickory spent some time on a trader's route, learning the knick-knacks of the trade and the knick-knacks of Loria, building up a massive, mobile collection of random, easily discarded interests. Tired of lugging her collection village to village, Hickory stumbled across The Barrows, a port town. A perfect place to set up shop to sell her old interests whilst easily able to supply her new ones. Which in hindsight, sounds perfect, but the reality is... well, first she needs wolves to buy her stuff! Please! Anyone! 50% off all Atterberry carvings! They come all the way from Ravenschloss!

#lortober #lorwolf #wolf oc #wolf #Lorwolf Bio #Quichewolves #Hickory Clocks #The Barrows

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rookthorne · 6 months

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⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐟

Little Red Riding Hood never stood a chance against the Big Bad Wolf, not when the wolf was a honed predator with skills he’d perfected over the centuries.

A little game of chase would bring out the beast in your Incubus, and you just had to hope he’d kept some semblance of his charming self.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ☽☾ Incubus!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ☽☾ 3.4k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ☽☾ The Filthiest Filth. ჻჻჻ SMUT: Monsterfucking, unprotected, possesive, rough piv, primal, breath play, multiple orgasms, use of appendages, tail fucking, double penetration in same hole, so much dirty talk (that I need to go to church) ჻჻჻ KINKS: Daddy, chase, praise, degredation, dacryphilia, slight blood

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ☽☾ I have nothing to say in my defence, except that I am so sorry for the filthiest thing I have ever written.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔 ☽☾ Where Is Your God Now by Rok Nardin ☽☾ Supermassive Black Hole by Muse ☽☾ Carrion Flowers by Chelsea Wolfe ☽☾ Easy by Sun Lux, Lorde

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒂 ☽☾ @smutconnoisseur — chaos kittens, I almost killed SC off, if that gives you any implication of just how much this fic is.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ☽☾ @rookthorne's Fright Night — Masterlist

𝐃𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Are you sure about this?”

Bucky looked at you, eyes narrowed and a slight tilt to his head. There was a glint of something you couldn’t place in his eyes that had become black depths, reflecting only the light of the moon. “Honey,” he purred, and his tongue, long and slick, ran over his lips and then his fangs. “All you have to do is run.”

“But what if I get lost?” The words weren’t quite enough to cover the entirety of your hesitance, if you were honest, but it was what you had. “It’s dark, and all I have is this cape,” you said, holding out the thick, soft material of your cape – coloured crimson with golden hems.

“You won’t get lost, sweetheart,” Bucky said simply. His wings that had been furled against his back shuddered and stretched out, the tips brushing the ground as he shivered through the feeling. You could see his tail wrap around his calf and then sway and twitch.

“But-”

“We’re jus’ playin’ a little game of Red Ridin’ Hood–aren’t we? You’re the poor little girl, lost in the woods and runnin’ from the big,” Bucky paused, stepping closer, “bad,” another pause, and you sensed the tension that the words carried – it made your skin prickle with electricity. He kissed you full on the mouth, forcing his tongue past your lips to run coaxingly along your own, when finally, he pulled back. “Wolf.”

He grinned and his fangs shone in the light of the moon, and he tilted his head again. “Can’t be that dumb for me yet, Angel, c’mon.” He stepped back and you bit down the quiet whine in your throat. “Go on. Daddy wants to toy with his prey.”

“But-” You tried again, reaching for him.

A shadow replaced the moon, a dark film of red and black. It was Bucky’s wings – twitching in the eagerness to take flight. “I said run.”

The dust cloud from the flap of Bucky’s wings made your cloak ripple around your body, exposing the thin dress you wore beneath the cover of red. With your final warning uttered, you took off to the tree line, darting between the pines and holding your dress up off the ground – branches and thickets of thorns cut and tore at your shins and hands, but you pushed on.

Darkness covered the entirety of the forest – shadows danced on your path. They gave the illusion of a pursuer, but you knew for sure the only creature hunting you was airborne, more than likely watching you from a perch in the trees.

Paths wove and twisted between the trees, and you trusted your instincts. Well before you had agreed to play this game, Bucky had assured you that you would be alone with no chance of a lone predator or bystander to encounter, and that had been the truth – there was not a single sign of life in this forest aside from the pounding of your heart in your ears and of your feet over the forest floor.

A sense of foreboding settled over you then – since you were truly alone, with an Incubus after you, what would stop something else, another demon perhaps, deciding to join the game you were playing? Was that even a possibility?

You grimaced and ran off in another direction, sticking to the trails as your cloak whipped behind you. There was a fork amongst a small clearing just ahead, and you slowed to walk, then a standstill; just to catch your breath.

To the right was the way to the darker side of the forest where the canopy was so thick with branches no light pierced through. To the left lay the way to the streams and rivulets that trickled through the forest to the lake on the opposite side.

Moonlight flooded the clearing as you panicked and fumbled with your decision.

The heavy beat of wings in the distance made you flinch and cower, you had stood still too long. “Dammit,” you muttered, observing your surroundings for a place to hide. A tree trunk, wide and covered in creeping moss, stood rooted to your right, and those wing beats were nearing faster than you could outrun. “Shit, shit–here.”

Your feet slipped over roots and vines in your scramble, and it was not a moment too late. A loud thump sounded a few feet from where you had been standing, and you peered around the trunk of the tree.

Bucky was standing there, head tilted up to watch the skies. His horns reflected the moonlight, but it was nothing compared to the voids of his eyes – inky blackness swallowed all light that would bounce off what used to be his icy irises, and he was breathing heavily, as though scenting the air.

“Oh, Angel! I know you’re here, sugar!” he boomed, and his voice – it had transformed into something guttural, primal with the rasp and tone. It called to your baser instincts and you struggled to not let a whimper fall from your lips, instead, your body twisted the arousal and pooled it in your cunt, making it throb.

Your breath left you in a sharp exhale as Bucky turned so his back was now facing you. The skin around his wings was mottled red and blood trickled down from the weeping wounds, and as you watched, the muscles and sinewed skin of the wings themselves twitched and jumped. Black tendrils of something curved down his spine and followed the contours of his back and waist, before they stopped at the very top of his tail – the tip of which swished with eagerness, a playful action that was offset by the entirety of his body language.

It was a haunting sight. Never before had you seen Bucky in his full form. He looked twice as large, as though the very transformation of uncloaking his monstrous form had made him grow a few feet both in height and brawn.

Oh, God, you thought, clenching your thighs.

“Where is your God now, Angel?” he asked, deceptively calm. “Don’t think I can’t sense His name being invoked at the sight of me, which means…” The moonlight shadowed his form as he turned again, this time, he was facing you – but it seemed he hadn’t caught you staring. “That means, honey, that you are so fuckin’ close, and you’ll be screamin’ to the Heavens, soon enough.”

You shuddered and gulped, and then, those deep, black eyes were on you. Bucky had shifted slightly to the side in your daze, and he was staring straight at you. His wings raised up slightly as he grinned, all teeth and tongue, and his tail thrashed side to side, as if it could no longer restrain itself.

“Oh, no,” you breathed, blinking once, twice, and then you turned to run. The sight of Bucky had kickstarted the instinctual fear that had laid dormant. “No!”

Branches whipped against your cheeks and arms this time as you took off, deeper into the forest without a care for where you were running, only that you put as much distance between the two of you.

A loud howl tore through the night and you came to a halt, completely against your will. You panted and tried to force your legs to move, but nothing worked as it should – you were rooted to the forest floor just as the trees around you.

Footsteps crunched over the leaves and twigs behind you, followed by the sound of something being dragged along. “Well, well, well,” a deep voice drawled. You couldn’t turn to face the source – instinctually, you knew it was Bucky, in whatever form he was in. “Who knew the sweet, little Angel could run so damn fast, huh?”

The clawed edge of a wing was the first thing you saw in your peripheral vision, then a horn, then Bucky’s face. He looked smug, a wide smirk pulled at the corner of his lips and his eyes glinted with mischief. You were unable to open your mouth, so you just stared at him, eyes wide as he neared.

“I’m impressed, sweetheart,” he cooed, and his hand cupped the side of your face while the other traced lines over your neck with a sharp claw. “What’d you think of that new trick? Got you pretty good.”

A finger snap sounded, and you could move. You gasped for air and slumped where you stood. “What the hell!”

Bucky grinned. “Don’t sound so shocked, sugar,” he purred, tilting his head. “Daddy would do anythin’ to make sure his Angel does as she’s told, right?”

It was either an irrationally foolish surge of bravery, or pure spite that fuelled your next move, and as you looked back in hindsight, it would be the moment that changed the game.

You rose to your full height and defiantly set your jaw, looking at Bucky through narrowed eyes. “Fuck you, and fuck your game of cat and mouse.” And you bolted off, panting from the adrenaline.

There was a peel of harsh laughter behind you, but you didn’t slow down, not even when you heard heavy footsteps trailing after you. Your feet pounded over the floor as you ran as fast as you could manage, and before long, you were in another clearing. It was much like the last one, only the canopies of the trees were sparser and allowed moonlight to wash over the dewy grass.

“You can’t run for long, Angel!” Bucky called behind you, and to your horror, you realised he was far too close for comfort. “Daddy’ll get what he’s owed–shut that pretty mouth so you can’t insult ‘im no more.”

For the first time that night, terror flooded you. Bucky would catch you, and while you had previously discussed what he could and could not do, it didn’t stop the instinctual fear of being prey to an angry demon – one that could overpower you with brute strength and magic. “Fuck,” you cursed, heaving for breath. “No, no, you wo-”

The air was slammed from your lungs as a much larger body collided with yours, and you grunted with the pain of being pressed against someone’s chest with such force. Your back was slammed up against the trunk of a tree, and you blinked several times as needles and twigs fell from above, landing at your feet that dangled off the ground.

Your eyes finally focused on the face in front of you, and you gasped sharply. Bucky was smirking, and his eyes held an aura of danger that made your stomach flip in fear and arousal. “Got you, little bunny. Did you really think you could run from me?”

“No,” you squeaked. “No, no–I didn’t, daddy-”

His hand moved to cup your throat, squeezing the sides enough to make you lightheaded. “You have a real fuckin’ funny way of showin’ it, honey. What was all that?”

The pressure of his hand around your throat sent the very last of the thoughts in your mind southwards, leaving you struggling to even form a sentence. “I-”

Bucky clicked his tongue and sneered. “I think this costume needs to go–best believe you’re keepin’ that cape on, though.” His claws flashed in the light and then the thin fabric that kept you modesty vanished with a swipe of his hand. “Tha’s better, baby, isn’t it?” He inhaled sharply, letting his nostrils flare, before he looked down at your thighs. “Seems runnin’ has made my Angel all hot an’ bothered.”

You whined and gripped his wrist with one hand, while the other scrambled over the bark of the tree. “Daddy- Please, please, I need you.”

“How cute, my sweet lil’ Angel beggin’ for her daddy to fuck her,” he purred, and his mouth trailled up and down your throat, licking and biting hard enough to draw blood. “Now, tha’s somethin’ I can oblige. Force you to take my cock while you squirm and cry–fuck, I wanna see you cry for me, honey.”

Unable to speak, you just nodded vehemently, staring into Bucky’s face. The ache in your cunt throbbed and pulsed, the pain of it unbearable and it left you feeling open and wanting. “Please–I need you, daddy, just-” You hiccuped and swallowed at the feral expression that pulled Bucky’s face taut. “Just fuck me, make me yours.”

“Oh, baby.” Something in his tone made your eyes become unfocused, and you moaned as his face came so close to yours that you could feel his breath over your lips. “I’ll do so much more than that. I’m gonna fuck you ‘till you cry for nothin’ but for who you belong to–and even then,” he whispered, and your hooded eyes stared into the dark abyss that were his eyes. “Daddy won’t stop. You’re mine to fuck, mine to use, and you’re fuckin’ mine to keep.”

“Yes,” you moaned loudly, tipping your head back. “Give it to me, daddy.” The grin that Bucky flashed you with made some semblance of thought swirl in your mind, and you cried out, “Wait! Wait, I-”

Bucky froze, but his hands remained where they were, securing you against the tree. “What is it?” he asked softly. “What’s wrong, honey?”

You shook your head, and stared at his mouth. “Oh, what sharp teeth you have.” The words came out as a breathy whisper, carrying an intention that made Bucky’s expression darken even further.

“Oh, all the better for markin’ you up, sugar,” he growled, nipping at your bottom lip. "Gonna use ‘em to claim you as mine–force the lower demons from the rings a’hell to bow before my queen."

It was your turn to grin, and you did so dazedly as another throb went through your whole core. “Oh, and what a beautiful tail, mister wolf,” you teased, watching through half lidded eyes as it moved and curled in the air.

“All the fuckin’ better for keepin’ your pussy on display, baby,” he purred, moving the appendage until the very tip of it brushed your inner thigh. “These gorgeous thighs jus’ wanna keep my pretty girl hidden, ain’t that right? Need somethin’ to keep them open.”

You shuddered and moaned as Bucky pressed forward, hunching in on himself to suck at your pulse point. His knee came to rest against your heat and you ground down against the tight muscles of his thigh until you whimpered. “Wait, wait, mister wolf,” you breathed, and Bucky pulled back to look into your face.

“Yeah?”

“What a gorgeous cock you have,” you whispered.

A deep, guttural growl rumbled through Bucky’s chest, and you felt him force his cock into your cunt to the hilt with a single thrust. You cried out as he grit through his teeth, “All the fuckin’ better for fillin’ this perfect pussy with, Angel. Hold on while daddy takes what he’s owed, baby.”

The rhythm Bucky set was punishing beyond belief. Every stroke of his cock over your walls made you whine and moan for more, desperate for the first climax that was cresting so fast you could barely warn him.

“Can feel you squeezin’ me,” Bucky growled into your ear, and it sent a shiver down your spine. “I only jus’ fuckin’ started and you’re gonna cum for me? Are you that fuckin’ desperate for daddy?”

“Yes! Yes–need t’a cum daddy,” you begged, clawing his shoulders and shaking with the force of his thrusts. “Please!”

“Good fuckin’ girl–tha’s my girl, go on,” he grunted, “give it to daddy. Let go–’m not done with this tight cunt yet, baby.”

Your first climax hit you with the force of a devastating earthquake – it tore through your core with such ferocity and heat you could have sworn you were burning from the inside out as your thighs clamped tightly around Bucky’s hips. The deep, harsh thrusts he fucked you with drew out the pleasure until you were keening.

“Tha’s it, honey, tha’s it. Good girl. Good girl, let it out–need to make room for daddy, don’t you?” Bucky coaxed, brushing a thumb over your cheek. “Fuck, you’re so pretty. Wan’ you to cum again, need you so bad.”

“I ca- Oh! Bu- Daddy!” You cried, throwing your head back. In your haze from your first orgasm, Bucky had moved his tail from your inner thigh up to your clit, where it thrummed so fast over the bundle nerves that it blurred. “Fuck! Fuck, feels s’good, daddy!”

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” Bucky cooed, rocking his hips faster. “But you’re not cryin’, and you for sure as shit still able to speak.”

You whined and choked on air as his cock started to fill you again, it felt as though it had gotten bigger while inside you and the barbs were threatening to expand and latch on – Bucky was close, for all his talk, he couldn’t resist. “Daddy, daddy–yes, need more,” you begged, and he groaned.

“You want more, honey?” Bucky asked suddenly, and his wings shuddered as they expanded out again. The clawed tips dug into the earth and the bones that lined the top of the sinew stiffened just as Bucky snarled, “Then fuckin’ take it.”

His thrusts, while powerful before, breached the line of what was possible as his wings tensed and he fucked up into your cunt with such force it pushed you up the tree, tearing your cloak on the ragged bark. “Yes! Oh my- Yes! Don’t stop, don’t stop-”

“I won’t, don’t you worry,” Bucky panted, and he made his tail push into your cunt as he dragged himself out. “You’re gonna be fuckin’ gaping when ‘m done with you, Angel–you feel so fuckin’ good on my cock, gonna be even better with my tail.”

The foreign pressure of his tail snaking itself in with his cock made you cry out and sob, but it moved in a hooked gesture and started to thrum against that spot, and in time with the thrusts of his hips, you were sure you were going to pass out in his arms. “I’m gonna cum! Daddy–Daddy! Please!”

Bucky growled as his hand slammed against the tree, and his claws scraped roughly against the bark. “Cum for daddy, baby–give it to me, now,” he groaned, and just as your orgasm crested, Bucky shouted into your neck. “Fuck! Oh, Angel–’m close.”

Your mind had melted from your ears as your climax took your breath away, and with a shaky breath, you felt tears run down your cheeks as you stared into Bucky’s eyes. “Daddy,” you rasped, cupping his jaw tenderly in your hand. “Cum for me–fill me, make me yours.”

The way Bucky’s breath hitched in his throat made you smile softly, and you watched, entranced, as his climax took its roots. His eyes, black as ebony, flashed in the light from the moon and his lips upturned into a snarl. Pleasure was sparking through your core at his continued thrusts that grew harsh and bruising, but you kept your eyes on his face as a ragged gasp choked him.

“Oh, fuckin’ hell, yes–yes, you feel s’good, baby,” he praised, making you moan and preen. “Gonna fill this perfect pussy up–make her leak me so everyone knows you’re mine. You are mine.”

“Yours,” you breathed, and you gasped sharply at the feeling of the barbs swelling, latching into place and forcing Bucky to thrust hard into your cunt to keep himself there. “Give it to me, daddy, wan’ it so bad.”

Bucky whined and forced himself forward, pushing his barbed dick into the hilt when a warmth bloomed in your cunt. “Fuck! Fuck, baby, ‘m cumming, please-” Bucky rasped against your lips. To tease and prolong his release, you squeezed him rhythmically with your walls. His breath hitched and the hand that had slammed against the trunk of the tree seized.

A loud crunching sound came from beside your head, and you glanced over to see Bucky’s fist tearing the bark from the wood with his grip.

Moans and praises fell from his lips like sweetened honey, and you kissed him as his climax tapered off. “That’s it, daddy, good boy.”

“Fuck,” he murmured. You couldn’t help but giggle at his blank expression.

“I think you fucked yourself dumb, Buck,” you said quietly, and he narrowed his eyes at you, displeased with the insinuation.

“Who said I was done yet, huh?” His hands grabbed your thighs and he hefted you close to his chest. You squealed and gripped hard onto his shoulders. “Still have’ta take you home–fuck you on every surface. I did say you won’t be able to fuckin’ speak when I was done with you.”

you still with me? good — good girl.

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #rookthorne's works

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casspurrjoybell-17 · 2 years

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HEART'S PRICE - CHAPTER 31

*Warning: Adult Content*

That afternoon, Doctor Ambrose Thorne helps Noah Hunter move his things out of the spare bedroom and into his.

Noah has only called the little space his own for a few weeks but it already feels like home and he doesn't like the thought of someone else sitting in 'his' comfortable chair by the window or sleeping in 'his' bed.

Ambrose's bed, on the other hand, looms in Noah’s mind like some leviathan, waiting to rise from the deep and swallow him whole.

‘I've slept in it once already, slept with Ambrose once already (a fact it seems he treats as common knowledge) but that had happened almost unexpectedly and I hadn't had a whole day to work my nerves into an anxious tangle beforehand.’

Now, the thought that Ambrose might want, might expect, something like that again, has Noah jumping out of his skin every time the handsome vet speaks.

Ambrose notices, of course and after the fourth time Noah drops something at the sound of his voice, he makes the young man face the issue head on.

"Now see here, little wolf," he says, forcing Noah to stop collecting the pile of books that he'd just dropped and helping him to his feet.

"You're wound up tighter 'n a spring again and I can guess why but you needn't fear. Mate or not, I won't force anything on you that you don't want."

They're standing in the hall, halfway between Ambrose bedroom and the spare room, near the top of the wide flight of stairs.

It's late afternoon by this time.

Slanting light filters in from the windows below and golden motes of dust float in the air.

"Or even that you do want,but won't admit," Ambrose adds as Noah straighten his glasses and attempts to conceal the nervous tremble in his hands.

"I know I've been a bit forward so far, a bit impatient, maybe but I've no wish to cause distress. If you'd rather, I'll make do with the couch."

"N-no," Noah stammers.

"I d-don't want you to sleep on the c-couch. I j-just..."

He stops himself and swallows.

"I just have a hard time trusting... this."

Noah gestures between them and Ambrose frowns.

"You don't trust that I love you?" Ambrose asks, a hint of sadness in his voice.

"Because I am in love with you, little wolf. I haven't said it yet but I'm saying it now and I'll keep saying it until you believe me, if that's what it takes."

Noah’s face heats and his heart brightens at Ambrose’s words but the young man shakes his head.

"It's not... It's not that I don't trust you," he says slowly.

"It's my own feelings that I don't... that I can't trust, yet."

Ambrose’s frown deepens at the corners of his mouth.

"I know you don't want to talk of the past, Noah but tell me something," he says.

"Not everything, just something. Help me understand."

Noah stares up at him a moment as he realizes that, for the all the secrets he may have, at this point he knows more about Ambrose than he knows about him.

"Alright," Noah says.

"Not now, though. Let's finish this first."

Ambrose nods, looking a bit surprised that he has agreed and they move the last of Noah’s few belongings in companionable silence.

~ ☾ ~

That evening, they take Dougal for a walk by the lake.

He's excited to be back on his favorite trail, where Noah hasn't taken him since the night when he had the feeling of being watched and had his close call with a car.

In the deepening gloom beneath the trees Noah gets an inkling of the same feeling again but with Ambrose at his side, he feels safe and secure and finds he enjoys being out in the air almost as much as Dougal does.

They reach the lake's far end before Noah decides how, exactly, to tell Ambrose what he needs to know.

He halt at a spot where the path is very near the shore and stare up at the purple-gold sky, lit with the last reflected light of the vanished sun and takes a deep breath of cool, water-scented air.

Noah’s throat starts to constrict and he pauses to clear it but thankfully Ambrose doesn't interrupt.

"I mean I dated a bit, in college," Noah says, continuing his awkward ramble.

"Or I tried, at least because it's what one does but I never... um... got very far with 'things' you know. Eventually I figured I was just fated to be alone and I was fine with that because there's nothing wrong with being alone, you know and then... Well, then I met Thomas."

Noah watchs a pair of bats swoop low over the water, hunting bugs.

Nearby, Dougal noses along the shoreline, tail wagging as he pokes about in the grass.

He disturbs something that slips into the water and vanishes with a splash, his surprised bark echoing sharp across the lake.

Dougal runs back to us, excited with his accomplishment, and I kneel to pet him, distracting myself from my own words.

"Thomas was a lot older and had a lot more experienced," Noah goes on.

"And he... Well, it just sort of happened, I guess. I thought that's how it was supposed to be, you know? I thought what I felt for him was love and that it was what he wanted from me, so I... But, anyway, I was wrong."

His face heats and Noah start sto look away again but Ambrose takes hold of his shoulders and keeps him from turning.

"I understand, Noah," he says.

"At least, I begin to. You thought you had something with this fellow and then, whatever it was that he did, whatever it was that happened, you learned otherwise. You learned it wasn't real and now you're afraid this isn't real, between us and you don't trust yourself to know the difference. Is that about it?"

"Partly," Noah agrees and bites his lip, unable to meet Ambrose’ eyes.

"But it's not so much that I don't trust it's real, it's more that I'm afraid it's real because as much as Thomas hurt me, I know it could have been a lot worse."

Noah stops and looks up at Ambrose and knows every measure of his pain is there for him to see in his eyes.

"I could have loved him," Noah whispers.

"And I think it would have killed me if I had."

Ambrose’s brows pinch but rather than speak, he pulls Noah into his arms.

"Well now, there's the real difference," he says against Noah’s ear.

"He didn't love you and you didn't love him. On the other hand, as sudden as it's come and as much as you may find it hard to believe, little wolf, I love you very much. And I won't put words in your mouth but..."

"Yeah," Noah says and blinks hard against the tears threatening his dignity.

"I guess as much as it scares me, I know it's true. My heart's made its choice and I... I love you, too, Ambrose Thorne."

~ ☾ ~

Later, in Ambrose’s bedroom, in his wide, soft bed, the handsome vet lets Noah set the pace and he sets it slow.

The first time, Noah had given in to the strength of Ambrose’s lust, to the overwhelming and unfamiliar feeling of being so wanted.

This time, Noah’s mind and heart are ready for him, ready to make Ambrose his and ready to be claimed.

In other words, the first time they had sex, this time they make love.

It seems natural that Noah had be the one to receive Ambrose and though the handsome vet had offered with surprising willingness to let Noah have him instead, the young man preferred it this way.

With a pillow beneath Noah’s hips, Ambrose gazes down at him with an expression of open admiration and a slight smile on his lips, his chest rising and falling with his quickening breath.

"You're beautiful, my little wolf, every bit of you and I'll die a happy man if I can call you mine."

"Go on then," Noah says, a little breathless already from his kisses and his gentle touch, from the heat of his mouth and hands.

“Take me."

Ambrose enters Noah with surprising ease, sliding slow and deep and the young man realizes that, like his heart, his body knows its mate and is ready for him.

Ambrose shuts his eyes, biting back a groan and Noah feels him thicken and stiffen even more as he begins to thrust his hips, taking his pleasure and giving Noah his.

Ambrose moves steady and sure, long hair gleaming dark over his shoulders like bronze in the dim light and his skin shining with a sheen of sweat, as does Noah’s.

The young man feels like shadow to Ambrose’s moonlight, fuel to his fire, each in love with the other's borderlines and soon Noah is moving with him, meeting his passion with his own.

Then their careful dance unravels as Ambrose loses himself in the build of pleasure.

His hand tightens as it slides over Noah’s aching shaft and at last he pushes deep, swells within his mate and with an almost soundless cry, finds release.

Something in that sudden spill of heat and in the ragged edges of Ambrose’s voice are all Noah needs to crest the final wave and light bursts behind his eyes as he joins him at that height of ecstasy.

Then it is a gentle fall from the other side, more kisses and soft whispers of devotion, a steady warmth burning in Noah’s core, his own secret fire lit at last, a feeling of quiet happiness and no more fear and finally, sleep.

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lunarruled · 1 year

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#☾ dark side of the moon; reflection #☾ this is why Ky only wears leather jackets lol #☾ all the others look like dresses on her!#☾ smol wolf is smol!

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blurredcolour · 2 years

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The Hunter's Moon | Part One

The Hunter’s Moon Masterlist

Summary: Austin Butler's life changed forever in 2017. If only people knew how deep that statement ran.

Pairing: Werewolf!Austin Butler x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Angst, Language, Violence, Supernatural Themes, Suggestion of Mature/Explicit Themes - 18 + Only

Author's Note: Inspired by the headcannons of @sassy-ahsoka-tano, written with her blessing. As this is based on supernatural content, it comes with an elevated level of violence and dark themes. It is also a bit of a slow burn, especially compared to my other writing.

Song suggestion: DARKSIDE by NEONI

Word Count: 1565

—☽•✧•◐•✧•◯•✧•◑•✧•☾—

Early 2017

To say that filming The Shannara Chronicles in New Zealand had changed Austin Butler’s life would be an understatement. A foundational experience, his first leading role, the furthest he had ever been from home. But there was a lot more to it than that. A weekend alone during the filming of the second season, camping in the mountains, had altered him permanently. At the cellular level.

The lone howl in the moon-drenched night had made his blood run cold. There were no wolves…no carnivorous mammals…in New Zealand. The flash of reflective eyes across the flames of his campfire, however, had startled him to his feet. The urge to run had flooded every muscle of his body, tensing in preparation to flee. He had not stood a chance.

The great grey wolf had easily cleared the height of the flames, all four paws impacting against his chest, driving him to the ground. Claws had shredded his shirt; teeth had sunk into the flesh of his shoulder. The sound of his cellphone ringing had startled the beast off into the night, leaving him in shock. He had somehow managed to make it into his tent, to tie a makeshift bandage around the wound using his pajamas before he had passed out.

Breakfast was waiting for him when he woke, the campfire stoked, his wound properly bandaged. He had not believed a word out of that man’s mouth initially. In fact, his reaction had charted the five stages of grief so neatly, it could have been a textbook case.

Denial.

There was no way this had been happening to him. This was the stuff of myths and legends. It was scientifically impossible and besides how could it have been occurring so long amongst the crowded human world, yet no one had proven it to be true…

He had gone back to work after his days off, acted as though everything were perfectly normal. Camping had been great, very relaxing…his statement to his colleagues was as much to convince himself as them. Until the changes began to take hold: the rapid healing, the heightened sense of smell, the increased sensitivity to light and sound.

Anger.

Had life not been hard enough for him already?! What sins had tarred his soul to bring this curse upon him in addition to the implosion of his family, followed by the loss of his mother so young…

The pure rage had taken over his whole body like a roiling sea. He had snapped at any thing and anyone that had the misfortunate to draw his attention. More than one glass had been thrown across the kitchen…his damage deposit was not returned.

He had fired and re-hired his personal assistant four times that week. The fight with Vanessa over FaceTime had been the first swing of the sledgehammer at the foundation of their relationship.

Bargaining.

There had to be a way to reverse the curse. There was still time before the full moon, he had not turned fully…just flashes of unnaturally bright eyes in the mirror, claw-like nails during fits of rage. He had scoured the internet, the local library, anything he could find to see if there was a way to stop this. He would have given anything to go back in time, to not go camping, to have run up a tree…anything.

The universe had proven deaf to his pleas.

Depression.

He had not been able to pull himself from the cocoon of his bed. The bright sunlight was a mockery of the heavy, oppressive, empty chasm beneath his breastbone. He had felt as though his life was utterly ruined, his career a complete impossibility. How could a normal person hide this…let alone a celebrity?!

He had faked a flu, turned off his phone, contemplated drastic measures. The simplest of tasks took on the appearance of mountains to climb. Time stopped in his apartment as he succumbed to the weight in his heart. Every muscle ached, resonating with the hopelessness of his situation. The only thing that pulled him from his self-imposed exile were the threats of his screaming agent over the phone when he had turned it back on briefly, having hoped to indulge in some doom scrolling. He had returned to set, a shell of himself. What had once been murmured rumours was then spoken openly. Something was wrong with Austin.

Acceptance.

By the night of the full moon his body had leaned out, his muscle mass increased. The timber of his voice had deepened, the tone had richened. Every nerve ending felt sentient, at the ready for his command. With great trepidation, he had crawled into bed, uncertain of what would happen to him, his body, the people around him. He woke up naked in the woods with that same man from before, the shredded remains of some poor small creature scattered about the clearing.

He was a werewolf.

The statement was both completely absurd and as final as carved in stone. Permanent, eternal. There was no escape, there was no going back…he had been forced to find a way forward.

The man who had bitten him, Ross, was frank and honest with him now that Austin was ready to listen. After the first change, his body became foreign to him; an upgraded model that required complete re-training to operate. Any heightened emotion would trigger at least a partial shift. The greater the emotion, the more forceful and complete the transition.

Clothes were shredded at such a prodigious rate that he began shopping at thrift stores just to keep his bare ass covered. He did not see himself in his wolf form until several months in. A steam-filled shower, trying to resolve a persistent problem had brought release. Release from both his hard cock and his human form. He had growled to himself, shaking off the water droplets as they hit his fur, unable to turn it off without opposable thumbs. He had glanced in the mirror and tilted his head at his blue eyes staring back…from the face of a huge sandy wolf.

He stayed a month after filming, selling a lie about wanting more time the explore the country. Yoga, meditation, boxing – these practices had helped him gain control over his mind and his body. Unexpected shifts were mostly under control by the time he returned to Los Angeles. To Vanessa.

Being somewhat unknown served him well. He was able to develop a routine, solidify the control of his new form. May even enjoy it a little. He had found a rental property, installed a cell to secure himself away during the night of the full moon – the only night he did not have control over the shift.

The burden of the secret, however, had eaten away at his long-term relationship with Vanessa. Suspicions and rumors swirled around them. Where did he go, what was he hiding, he had changed. Though it was not a surprise, it was no less painful when the relationship ended just as he was settling into pre-production on Elvis. One last thing the universe could take from him. The greedy, cruel, grasping universe seemed the thrive on his pain.

Post Elvis, he had engaged in a publicly staged relationship with Kaia in an effort to portray a stable, normal human being. In reality, he sought physical affection from a string of women. The encounters had an expiration date of twenty-four hours. It was safer that way, to satisfy a need without risking discovery of his true self. If they never got close, never had expectations, the wolf could remain hidden. It was incredibly painful for someone like him who craved and thrived on connection and stability. He was forced to lock his heart away; it was the price of continuing his career.

Even Elvis turned out to be a curse disguised as a blessing. Yes, the role had been incredible; yes, the film was spectacular and well-received; yes, he had finally ‘made it.’ But this all came at the cost of his relatively unpublicized life. He could hardly buy a coffee without someone snapping a photo now. People around the world were fighting for every last piece of him and it felt like the walls were closing in.

He had to get out of Los Angeles.

Somewhere close, somewhere with woods, somewhere small but near an airstrip. With those vague parameters, his real estate agent had found him a sizeable house beside an alpine lake with nearly six acres to himself. It was just outside a small village named Lannet’s Falls, a fifteen-minute drive to the airport on the edge Placerville, California. An hour flight to Los Angeles.

He had felt a pull as soon as the agent spoken the name; the pictures had convinced him.

“Lake Forbearance…” He had murmured, struck by how appropriate the name was for the life he had been forced to lead.

“Oh, you know, one of those overly dramatic gold rush names.” She had giggled and waved it away with a toss of her manicured hand.

Austin reflected on how little he would miss the glossy veneer of life in Los Angeles, the perfected artifice.

“I’ll take it.” He had surprised her with how quickly he had made his decision, offered full asking.

The property had stood vacant for nearly two years, immediate possession was easily secured. He felt a sense of immediate peace upon signing the papers.

Escape.

—☽•✧•◐•✧•◯•✧•◑•✧•☾—

Read Part Two

The Hunter’s Moon Masterlist

Tag List: @karamelcoveredolicity, @mymamalife

#austin butler x you #austin butler x reader #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #austin butler x gn reader #werewolf aus #gn!reader #werewolf au #blurredcolour #thehuntersmoon #Austin butler

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