Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Welcome to DSMP edition of a smutshot collection, existing solely because I'm too afraid to add it onto my pre-existing multi-fandom smutshot book

Pairings: pretty much whatever, rare or common pair

Kinks: Dub-Con, Shower Sex, Edgeplay, Bondage, Food Kink, Erotic Electrostimulation, Cross Dressing, Genderbending, Edgeplay, Knifeplay, Somnophilia, Voyeurism/Exhibitionism, Mild Guro, Slave/Master Dynamics, Yuri, Pet Play, Mind Bend, Temperature Play, Praise Kink, Sensory Deprivation, Overstimulation, Dacryphilia, Intercrural Sex, Collaring, Vampires, Werecreatures, Tentacles, Transformation of Some Sort, Monsters, Lactation, Pokemon AU, Homestuck AU, Somnophilia, Body Swap, Edging, Oviposition, Breeding, A/B/O Dynamics, Humiliation, Praise Kink, Degradation, and pretty much damn near whatever you like, feel free to ask about stuff not on the list

And I simply cannot stress enough how much we love and adore all hybrids in this household, and when I say 'all hybrids,' you best bet your ass I mean any and all hybrids alright? I am not shitting you bro, you could ask me for some insane hybridization like, Quackity with duck wings, cat tail, and fox mannerisms, and I will fucking deliver, or if you have more commonly seen hybridizations then shit like Dream but he's an Ender Dragon hybrid, or George but he's a mooshroom hybrid those are also loved with equal amounts of fervor. So, not a must have for requesting, but it's definitely something I gravitate to, and don't worry! If your request doesn't have them as hybrids then said request will be crafted just as lovingly, because fuck it, that's what request book authors are supposed to do when they get a request even if it isn't their exact situation they desire!

Things I'm very, very picky about: vore, pregnancy kink, piss, and breastfeeding

The only thing I will not do even with bribery consists of snuff, diaper fetish, scat, blackmail, cheating, daddy/mommy kink, necrophilia, farts/burping, birth, I also won't do frottage/docking because I can't wrap my brain around how to write the latter of the two and the former I just dislike writing

I'm not trans myself, and this is mostly a disclaimer for Fundy requests, so I can't promise I'll encapsulate that shit perfectly for ya

If you've happened to find a nice piece of art on the good old R34 website and want a fic for it, I'll see what I can do ya for if it fits the list

And those are all the rules, please, request to your hearts content, and I'm begging you, give a little bit of plot, a little bit of setting so I have something to work off of in building word count and justification for why they're fucking

- Paprika

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CHAPTER ONE: Rules
STATUS: COMPLETE
SUMMARY: The rules for requesting and one of the places you can drop a request.

CHAPTER TWO: Table of contents
STATUS: UNAVAILABLE
SUMMARY: The table of contents for this here fic, I'll put the fics that I've finished here and the requests I've started alongside the really big ones, I wouldn't consider it a surefire way to see that your has been chosen to be done as it's mostly for my ease of access to find which ones I've already started.

CHAPTER THREE: There won't be any leftovers [georgenotfound/sapnap]
STATUS: COMPLETE
SUMMARY: George and Sapnap get a bit frisky over lunch
FOCUS: genderbent Sapnap, food kink, light temperature play

CHAPTER FOUR: I've mapped every square inch of your body and I'll do it again [wilbur soot/dreamwastaken
STATUS: COMPLETE
SUMMARY: Dream is failing geography, shame Wilbur forgets the day they scheduled for tutoring.
FOCUS: praise kink, sex toys, he gets caught with a vibrator in his ass, creampie (kind of), edging

CHAPTER FIVE: Bloody kisses? I prefer bites [georgenotfound/dreamwastaken]
STATUS: COMPLETE
SUMMARY: George is needy and wants to try something he'd never dare do with a human, luckily for him, Dream isn't exactly what one would call human.
FOCUS: vampire Dream, biting, blood kink, venom/aphrodisiacs

CHAPTER SIX: Authors Note
STATUS: COMPLETE
SUMMARY: It was just me asking for requests. One of the places you can leave a request

CHAPTER SEVEN: It's not like you've amnesia, or do you enjoy being put in your place? [karl/wilbur]
STATUS: COMPLETE
SUMMARY: Karl and Wilbur decide to go on a date after a lot of bartering on Karls end, of course, his playful side gets the best of him and for a brief moment he's worried he's ruined the night up until the moment Wilbur touches his thigh.
FOCUS: blindfolds, collaring, light dacryphillia, Karls a bit of a brat, light system

CHAPTER EIGHT: EARN IT act is returning
STATUS: COMPLETE
SUMMARY: An update vaguely going over the EARN IT act and what it entails, tumblr post that explains it better is linked

CHAPTER NINE: They're rather sensitive [Fundy/Sapnap]
STATUS: COMPLETE
SUMMARY: Fundy returns from a long day at work, he's so tired he simple passes out in Sapnaps arms, giving the demon a chance to give his ears a couple scratches, find out why he's not allowed- the answer shocks him.
FOCUS: FTM Fundy, fox hybrid Fundy, demon Sapnap, clawing, hickies, lactation (requester asked for 'tiddie drinking' so I went with lactation), near somnophilia

CHAPTER TEN: Undress to Impress [Wilbur/Sapnap]
STATUS: COMPLETED
SUMMARY: Wilbur has found himself working at the crux of where the ring of lust and earthly domain collides, he never expected to work at such a place, a den of debauchery if you will. He's come to enjoy the performance aspect of his job, but now that he has a prince between his legs, he's loving the second part of it.
FOCUS: demon Sapnap, strip tease, feminization, size difference, sub/dom undertones

CHAPTER ELEVEN: Kitty Cat [Sapnap/Georgenotfound]
STATUS: COMPLETED
SUMMARY: They've been living together since Sapnap was first kicked out for mutating to a hybrid, he's done an awfully good job of hiding his heat cycle from George for most of the years they've spent together as friends, but the one time his heat catches him off guard is the very moment they go from friends to friends with benefits; maybe more than that given the ramifications of fucking while he's on heat.
FOCUS: FTM Sapnap, cat hybrid Sapnap, light degradation kink, praise kink, breeding, getting caught, creampie, pet names

CHAPTER TWELVE: Karma is a bitch (or makes you one) [dreamwastaken/georgenotfound]
STATUS: COMPLETED
SUMMARY: All those years of being a total douchebag are coming back to bite George in the ass, he's thankful that Dream is there to help deal with it despite how much he likes to shrug off his best friend when it comes to sexual notions.
FOCUS: genderbent George, timid Dream, slight dombotton George, transformation, friends with benefits type deal

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Malnutrition and mixed messages [dreamwastaken/awesamdude]
STATUS: COMPLETED
SUMMARY: Sam simply never checks in on his number one prisoner, Dream, somehow forgetting his condition of vampirism, the lack of fresh blood on the property isn't doing Dream any favors either. But of course, a camera decides to go awry, the lens cracking in all the wrong spots leaving him no choice but to go and fix it whether he likes it or not. But, he doesn't account for what may happen when a vampire, deprived of blood for so long, is suddenly in the presence of it again.
FOCUS: vampire Dream, FTM Dream, creeper hybrid Sam, breeding kink, biting/scratching, dub-con, psuedo-intoxication, cervix penetration

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Situational Reciprocation [Punz/Fundy]
STATUS: COMPLETED
SUMMARY: Punz found his way to ruling over the server, and somewhere along the line he decided to take Fundy as his husband- and much to the foxes delight, it's about a hundred times better than his previous marriage with Dream no matter how he looks at it.
FOCUS: FTM Fundy, body worship, praise, breeding, mildly possessive sex, brief flash forward with cockwarming

Chapter Text

"Hey George," Sapnap began as she sidled up beside George who was tending to the stove.

"Yes?" George asked gently, wrapping a hand around her waist, he had to smack away her hand when she reached for the pot of still bubbling stew.

"What're we having for dinner?" Sapnap asked, her voice was like a silk scarf, smooth, but not irritably high pitched.

"Meat and sauce, I assure you, its edible," George said, "I just blended up the leftovers from last night, tomatoes, mushrooms, brisket juices, its a fine sauce really."

"I'll take your word for it, besides, even if it ends up tasting like shit its nothing a bit of wine can't fix," Sapnap said slipping from Georges grasp and reaching for the red wine in the cupboard.

"Already added a hefty amount, don't worry, I know exactly what I'm doing," George said, halting her actions, "and yes, I added that beef broth we bought a couple days ago, I'm trying to make it a stew."

"What about garlic? And onions?" Sapnap asked, already reaching for the cupboards once more, handling the knife in her hand with ease.

"Yes and yes, just trust me, I won't poison you, I promise," George said, pulling her attention from worrying about dinner to focusing on him instead by gently grasping her hands.

"I know you won't poison me, its just, I usually handle the cooking because its fun, and I know you know how to cook, sorry," Sapnap said, trying to string together her thoughts in an attempt for them to be understandable.

"It's okay, just head on out to the living room and I'll be out with dinner soon enough," George said, his tone was understanding, he placed a small kiss to Sapnaps forehead before she headed out to the living room.

George hummed to himself as he finished his masterpiece, he doesn't really make food like this very often, its reminiscent of innovative food in the way that it makes use of everything left over while making something new. But in reality its just left overs mulched into a sauce loaded to the tits with red wine and beef broth, he doesn't mind though, red wine makes everything better in the world of food. He ladles out two bowlfuls and holds one in each hand, don't spill it now, he's given thanks when he hands the bowl to Sapnap whose swift to start indulging despite the lack of spoon.

"Do you want a spoon with that?" George asked, Sapnap quirked a brow before pulling down the bowl, sauce spattered her lips.

"No…? You don't really need spoons for soup bro," Sapnap said, bringing up the sleeve of her shirt to wipe her lips, "although, if we have some lemonade left over from yesterday that would be nice- I think the flavors wouldn't clash."

"I'll get see if we have some lemonade, anything else? Because as soon as my ass hits the couch I am not standing up again until I'm done my food," George asked, Sapnap took a second to ponder.

"Nope, not that I can think of," Sapnap said, her smile was intoxicating with how sweet it was, although, one could say it didn't quite match her personality perfectly, George gave a small sigh before turning back to the kitchen, "thank you George!"

The fridge door nearly creaked open, a bit sticky at the edges due to spillage, and lo and behold there in the center of it all was a half empty pitcher of lemonade. George pulled it out and placed it on the counter, it needed ice, majority if not all drinks tasted better on ice, and lemonade is definitely not the exception to that- he pulls out a tray of ice cubes next. The ice makes a cracking noise as he twists the plastic with his hands, he likes the clinking sound it makes as it hits the glass.

"Fuck!"

George doesn't hear it what caused the explanation, but the silence afterwards tells him it isn't anything extremely bad, he's still going to ask what the problem is when he's sitting on the couch, ass nestled between cushions where it belongs. He pours the beverage into glasses before heading back out to the living room, freezing up entirely when he finds Sapnap shirtless still sipping on soup. He clears his throat a bit, catching her attention, she looks up, a bit to swiftly for her hands to tilt the soup bowl back up- it spills over onto her cleavage, George feels a tingle run up his spine.

"Why aren't you wearing a shirt?" George asked, the slight shake in his voice is undeniable.

"Spilled some soup on it," Sapnap said, placing down her bowl of soup, "I can go grab a fresh one if you want-"

"It's fine, just, didn't expect to walk in and find you tits out, sauce on 'em as well," George said, red threatened to rise to his face when Sapnap glanced down, he had to bite the inside of his cheek when she wiped up a smudge of soup and licking her finger clean, that was having way too much of an effect on him.

"Didn't even notice, I'm gonna go wipe 'em down," Sapnap said, standing up as she did so.

"We could, we could have a bit of fun with this if you wanted too," George offered cautiously, Sapnap quirked a brow at the notion.

"How so?" Sapnap asked, tilting her head to the side.

"Theres a lot of uses for food, and I'm sure I can think of something," George offered, his confidence was false and the only reason he's only trying to get an in on this is because there's never been a better chance to do so.

"Get thinking," Sapnap said, already sauntering back to the couch, splaying herself along it like one would with chaise lounge, making sure to her skirt rode up her thighs, George had to bite back the sound threatening to escape his throat.

George forces himself to take steadying breaths before walking over to Sapnap whose smirking smugly all the while, he places down the ice cold glass and starts by pressing his still cold fingers to Sapnaps abdomen. The action gets him a positive response, a slight squirm and the expressional twitch that entails withholding a noise, he reaches for Sapnaps bowl, he puts it down again after a glare. He grabs his own instead and tilts the warm bowl until it starts to pour, the sauce is a little bit thick and the temperature causes Sapnap to squirm as it hits her chest. Theres only a brief pause where George stops pouring to unclip Sapnaps bra, his face is crimson by now because he's actually doing this.

Yes they've done this before, but not with food involved, George has never brought it up and Sapnap has never had a chance to say yes. But the reactions he's getting too soup being trailed across her torso from the tits to the hem of her skirt are astonishingly positive. The little sounds, the squirming, fists clenching and unclenching, its clear shes trying not to lose it and George has front row seats with his position between her legs- his spare hand slips under her skirt. Sapnap freezes full stop the second fingers slide past her panties, she shoots George a glare made of ice before starting to speak, she has to try multiple times before fully removing the stutter and shake.

"No way, we are not doing anything down there today, not on the couch at least," Sapnap said, her face was red and her body was hot, so many of her nerves on edge because they've been drenched in hot soup- George goes to pull his hand away and she grips his wrist, "I didn't say you had to stop finger fucking me, did I?" The sheer dominance in her voice pulled a small noise from Georges lips and she smirks.

"Sorry," George said quietly, bringing his fingers back to toy with her, he placed the bowl of soup aside and placed the now free hand on the back of the couch for a balance support of some sort.

He leaned in and swiped a portion of the soup trail away with his tongue, Sapnap shuddered because it felt so much more everything than she though it would. He continued on, slowly trailing up her torso, licking up every last drop and relishing in the shaky sounds it caused and the way she gripped the pleather like a snare. Once he reached her cleavage it earned him a breathless utterance of his name that he would never dare forget because he loved the sound. He practically drank every single Sapnap produced because she made those sounds for him and that made it feel so much better knowing he caused this- her sounds were his favorite drug.

Sapnap shrieked when George swiped a blunted nail across her clit, dragging his tongue up the cleft of her cleavage in tandem, a full body spasm triggered. She reached for his shoulders and gripped tight, anything to distract from the pleasure button he keeps pressing without abandon as she shakes. Too much, not enough, she's in ecstasy and George isn't stopping because there's still food on her torso; as soon as he's fully cleaned her up though, he lifts himself into a sitting position and goes on to grab his bowl of soup, unfazed at his girlfriends state of denied orgasm.

Sapnap is quick to grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him back down again, shock in his eyes is evident as he removes his hand. She whines at the lack of sensation and regrets doing so instantly because now George knows that's what she wanted. His smirk returns as he reaches for a glass of lemonade and pangs of fear shoot through the entirety of Sapnaps form because that is cold. She can handle the heat, but the cold? She's feeling a bit skittish at that, but who knows, maybe it'll be the push she needs to jump over the edge into a sea of bliss.

"Hold perfectly still and we can do this again," George said, Sapnap nodded, bringing food into sex turning out a lot more fun than expected, she still retorts.

"And you better give me an orgasm or else I'm revoking blowjob privileges," Sapnap threatens in response, the instant drop in Georges demeanor is visceral, he can't lose blowjob privilege, those are sacred.

Still, shaky hands reach for the hem of her skirt and slowly pulls it to where George sits between her legs, closer to her knees- there it is again, nervousness, timidity if you will, he won't fuck this up. He usually gets a little bit worried like this whenever something is on the table, something is at risk of being lost over sex. His grip on the glass of lemonade is tight, he can't drop it can he, instead he brings it to her stomach and places it down flat, she tenses because it feels like ice on her skin- she doesn't like that she enjoys it. And she really doesn't like the fact that she enjoys the slow drip of ice cold lemonade hitting her skin, her grip returns to the couch and it takes everything not to move more than the staggering rise and fall of her chest. 

"Good girl," George utter under his breath, she can't help but moan at that because its becoming too much for her to handle, she feels like she floating in an ocean of waves as orgasm washes over her.

For a while they stay there, Sapnap simply staring up at George as he pulls his fingers across the rim of the cup, then he takes a sip, not breaking eye contact once. Sapnap sat up again, trying to shake the sluggishness from her movements as she pulled up her skirt, she reached for bowl of soup.

"You know, this soup is pretty damn good," Sapnap said, taking Georges spoon before he can grab it, "ten out of ten, would highly recommend."

"And the lemonade?" George asked, crossing one leg over the other, he could deal with it later, he just got his fair share of kinkiness, he'll be a gentlemen and wait until she's done her soup to ask for a blowjob.

"Amazing, very cold," Sapnap said, reaching for her previously untouched glass and taking a sip, "actually it kind of tastes like shit, it felt impeccable though."

"That's day old lemonade concentrate for you," George said, taking another sip of his contaminated cup of the drink.

"Can I have some of yours?" Sapnap asked, she sounded a little bit nervous and George quirked a brow.

"Desperate to see how you mix with lemonade?" George said, a nod, he passed off the glass.

"It still tastes like shit," Sapnap said, disappointed at the flavors lack of change, she handed it back to George.

"You missed the first sip," George explained, "next time a chance like this comes up I'll let you have the first taste."

"Next time a chance like this comes up you best believe I'll be the on top," Sapnap said, her smirk was spine chilling in a way that had George pulsing with desire.

"I mean, we have more soup if you're up for a second serving," George offered, the desperation in his voice coming across painfully clear.

"I'll be back in a second, in the meantime, I would suggest stripping down," Sapnap said as she stood up, making her way to the kitchen.

George was in love and beyond lucky to have anyone who would be willing to satiate this dirty little desire he's been nurturing over the years- and the fact his girlfriend is the one whose appeasing him? He struck gold and he isn't afraid to flaunt about how amazing she is in general, he has enough dignity to sustain hers and never brings up private affairs. When she returns with not only a bowl of soup but a can of whip cream, his heart skips a beat, oh yeah, he got beyond lucky.

"Now hold perfectly still and I'll do whatever you want me to for a month,"

"Yes ma'am,"

"I'd prefer chef in this case,"

Chapter Text

Volleyball practice was hard.

It was fun though, Wilbur loved the sport and playing for his school for a multitude of reasons, one being that he got to be in close quarters with a bunch of guys his age and occasionally bump hips- but that was definitely a small reason compared to bringing his school honor. Even just the activity, although a bit strenuous at times, was something that kept him coming back to the court over and over. There was also the small factor that one of his favorite people played as well, and it was one of their only overlapping subjects, Wilbur wished they had more classes together but he wasn't going to sacrifice any of his interests yet.

Yet being the key word as he's been considering shoving biological studies to the side and transferring to more advanced mathematics next year; biology is hard anyways, who needs biology when you can have calculus. He'd get to learn new things and bond with Dream a little bit more than volleyball practice and geography, its relatively hard to bond over a group project when he's chatting with George anyways and math opens up tutoring gigs as well. He'd be winning either way, he just hopes he can quell his feelings for a couple more months until summer arrives, and then a few more until his chances of seeing Dream often double.

He is currently guzzling down water and seated in the bleachers, he feels like hes been glazed in honey, kind of damp and kind of sticky all over, the adrenaline is nice. His heart skips a beat when Dream sits down beside him, nearly touching, proximity far too much, he inches away just a bit so he doesn't faint. He can't will himself to open his mouth and say something, anything at this point- he's lucky that Dream speaks first.

"Geography," Dream said, he was a little bit winded and Wilbur had to refrain from letting his eyes flit across the players form, still slim, discretely muscled if at all.

"What about it?" Wilbur manages to get out in response, his voice is kind of rough, he drinks more water.

"I need help before the next test is dropped on us who knows when," Dream explained, Wilbur nodded, he felt honored to have Dream coming to him of all people for help when it feels that literally anyone else would be a better choice, "maybe we could study at your place sometime soon?"

"Of course man, does Friday work for you?" Wilbur asked, his entire weekend was free, but if he got lucky he could spend two whole days thinking about the events, just relishing in it after its happened because hes a little bit scared of giving admittance to his emotions- especially the ones for Dream.

"Friday evening works, but we have the entire day off on Friday right?" Dream asked, his count of the days fuzzy, to make matters worse he usually couldn't remember the stupid 'holidays' that affected schedules like their school.

"Yeah, Good Friday, we'll have the entire day off, but you can drop by whenever works best," Wilbur said, he stretched his arms a bit as he did so, his voice wasn't as croaky.

"Fuck yeah, if I come by early we could go catch a movie or something afterwards," Dream said, he was grinning a bit as he did so, Wilbur felt his heart skip a beat, he had to actively beat down the urge to gush and push away the heat rising to his face, he could blame it on the fact they just played volleyball, "here's hoping it'll get me out of the geography ditch."

"Here's hoping," Wilbur said raising his water bottle in a faux toast, Dream reciprocated it.

"See ya then dude," Dream said, he stood up and made his way off, Wilbur couldn't help but stare just a little bit, how much could indulging a glance over risk? It would be worth it, he was sure of that, his thoughts quickly shift over to the fact hes roped himself into an evening with Dream as he goes through the motions.

An entire evening, that might mean a meal, dinner perhaps, nothing romantic though, they're just friends, barely so at that, they only share three classes. Fast food is good, nothing beats a Mc Donalds, maybe even a Chill & Grill, or just some Kraft Dinner will do, he's stressing too much, he needs to focus more on the 'tutoring' side then the 'going to be in the same room as his crush' side. He'll make a power point, those usually get across his thoughts, maybe a small quiz to see what he already knows, a small essay to read could work, so many options, so little time.

What can happen in three days though?

---

Turns out a lot can happen in three days, pop quizzes were assaulting him left and right, only to be doubled down with the now impending deadline of tests, Tuesday. He still had to tutor for Dream, but that had left his mind entirely, he had the power point ready for whenever Dream decided to drop in though. His weekend was no longer empty, it was all designated study time now and he was not looking forward to that, he was going to marathon his childhood, but now he has to haul ass to get an acceptable grade in biology instead.

Friday he wakes up and heads directly to the kitchen, he sits at the counter before doing much of anything else, he just needs to take a moment, make a plan to tackle the unexpected avalanche of work that's been dumped on him. He turns on a pot of water and grabs a mug, placing a teabag in it, raspberry, as soon as his tea is ready he'll make a plan. He heads back to his room and grabs a notepad, pencil, and a red pen for good measure, he sits down at the counter again, his designated study spot relatively close to the stove.

The first thing that goes in his notebook is a small rant, a bunch of scribbles, and anything else that could help relieve the stress shaking him to his core. The next page he starts a list on, he starts on Saturday, putting down thirty minute intervals from when he usually wakes up all the way to three AM, he'll recover on Sunday, conk out before eight PM. The kettle starts to whistle and he pours water over his tea, burning hot, he adds a little bit of honey before reluctantly downing a couple sips, his tongue hurts because of it, but he feels better after doing so. The final page he writes on he labels as 'Friday' he doesn't add any intervals, all he writes is 'jack off' in red ink, then below he adds 'Dream???' in brackets because he just can't remember if its today.

He sits and drinks his tea for a good long while, just letting his mind stray as he sits at the counter, raspberry tea in hand. He thinks of Dream mostly, not much else he can bother thinking about in his frazzled state of mind. He thinks of having Dream listen to him, he thinks of the times they collided on the volleyball court, he thinks of everything until this moment- and he lets his thoughts go further. He lets his thoughts go to sex, to all the things he wouldn't mind doing, the only thing keeping his mind even partially grounded is the taste of fruit in his mouth, even at that its not doing a very good job. The noise that slips past his lips when he lowers the tea shocks him back into reality, that worked, he stands up and brings his mug with him, still half full.

He heads directly for his bedroom, this is one of those days he's beyond glad he found a cheap rental, even if its coming apart at the seams in some places. He loves his place dearly, but he'll forever miss windows that don't always stay stuck a centimeter open, alongside entirely soundproof walls- and even if he was loud enough to bother his neighbors (he doubts he is) they don't talk to him about it. The door swings open and he doesn't even bother shutting it again, not like anyone's gonna break in and catch him jerking it, that would be more of a problem for the robber anyways.

He drops to his knees and squirms his way under his bed, he barely fits, the squeeze is tight, but its worth it as he reaches for the box, he bruises his hip on the way out. He spends a solid minute or two waiting for the pain in his hip to dissolve before cracking open the box, he knows he logically doesn't have to hide it because he lives alone, but its habitual at this point. He props himself against his bed frame before sifting through the minuscule contents of the box.

"Lube," Wilbur mumbles as he pulls out the bottle, "check, vibrator," he pulls out the aforementioned item, "check, dignity?" He pauses on that one, "maybe."

He shimmies out of his pants, hes deserves this, hes had a long week, he slides out of his boxers next, there's that chill in the air he finds ignoring easy. He uses one of his hands to lube himself up, its kind of cold, but everything is kind of cold around this time of year, he doesn't react to it very much. The act of slicking the vibrator has become second nature over his years of hormonal roller coasters, and even though that's stopped, lack of getting laid keeps the sex drive moderate and his familiarization with his own self easy. He would never admit it, but he's gotten better at anticipating how he'll react to different things, and having a vibrator up his ass throughout the day once or twice may or may not have played a large role in that.

It slides in with ease, vibrations are low, he feels relieved with it not being to long until he gets his fair share of bliss in a world of so much suffering. He reaches absently for the controller with his free hand, the other still coated in a thin layer of lube he doesn't plan on washing off until he's finished- for now he uses that hand to loosely stroke himself. He turns up the vibrations to a good medium, pressed right next to what very damn well might be the most sensitive spot of his body, his mouth cracks open a little, he doesn't realize it. He does realize his body starting to react to what he's doing, pleasure shooting off, he loves that feeling, it lifts the stress of the looming deadline of the tests. Inching closer and closer to ecstasy, he has no intentions of taking his time with this as much as he'd like too even though its a Friday, maybe he could slow down just a bit?

A knock on the door breaks his thoughts from the debate of letting himself enjoy this or get it done as fast as possible. Now the debate is ignoring the knock and removing the vibrator from his ass at the risk of his guest leaving or just pulling on his pants and facing the day in pleasure. Then he remembers that Dream is studying today because of course they scheduled for Friday, not Saturday, fuck- he reluctantly sits up and places everything he can in the box as fast as possible before kicking it back under his bed. He yanks his pants back on as he makes his way to the door, his hand is still covered in lube but he hides it in his pocket. He catches a brief glimpse of himself in the mirror and ends up pausing at the kitchen sink to splash water on his face, he wipes down his hand while hes at it, another knock on the door.

"Gimme a second!" Wilbur shouts, he groans to himself a little bit, he'll never be able to think up an excuse to go take the vibrator out of his ass as soon as humanly possible, he tries to ignore the sensations as he opens the door, greeted with Dream holding a binder.

"Hope I'm not to early or anything," Dream said, Wilbur shrugged his shoulders, not catching the way his guests eyes flitted much lower than his face for only a second.

"Its on me for rolling out of bed at ten, please, come in," Wilbur said, moving away so Dream could walk in, he closed the door after and leaned on it, he quickly moved away because that sparked some unneeded pressure on his prostate, "anything in specific you're struggling with?"

"That cartography assignment we got yesterday, and the whole globalism aspect," Dream explained nervously, pulling aside his chair and taking a seat, Wilbur took a seat opposite to him, the counter on one side, he tried to lean on it and alleviate the weight on the chair, "if that's too much you don't have to help."

"I'll probably be able to help with globalism, not sure if I'll be of any use to you when it comes to the cartography parts though," Wilbur said, trying to keep his tone even, he couldn't fully suppress the partial crack from seeping into his voice, Dream was polite enough not to raise a brow or bring it up, but he noticed.

"Thanks so much, anywhere in specific you want to study," Dream asked, the slight gap between his question and the answer gave him enough time to jokingly fill it, "sir." Wilbur has to choke back whatever the title is doing to him, but he's sure Dream notices his small reaction, the vibrations shaking him to his core aren't doing much to help his case either.

"We could study in my room, I got a beanbag in the living room I could drag over if you want," Wilbur offered, his tone was a little bit airy, he stood up, his grip on the counter lingered as he tried to keep balance and composure, he needed an excuse now.

"Are you feeling alright Wilbur?" Dream asked gently as he stood up, using an arm to prop up Wilbur and help his balance, the casual contact does things to him and the small noise bubbling in his throat easily comes out and he's ashamed, still, Dream doesn't mention it.

"Yeah! Yeah I'm great, do you wanna start with globalism or cartography?" Wilbur asked, reaching for straws to try and make the mounting pleasure go away, now he's entirely sure that Dreams noticed the tent in his pants, probably noticed it the second he opened the door- the edge hes walking along is too much for him to dwell on that.

"We could do cartography," Dream offers as Wilbur slips out of contact, Dream has a hunch about whats going on, and he'll make things easier on Wilbur soon enough, but, he's enjoying this, just having Wilbur on edge, "sir." Wilburs reaction is suppressed but still comes across as visceral, Dream loves it- maybe its the illusion hes laying down that Wilbur will have control if this escalates, or the fact this is actually happening, he can't tell what he loves the most about this.

"Cool, just gimme a minute or two first, get some drinks ready, maybe even a snack or something," Wilbur offered, his voice is shaky now, he almost doesn't catch Dreams smirk, he knows, he knows and he's playing him like a cheap kazoo- very, very easily that is.

"No need, I'm not feeling very thirsty," Dream answered with, he stops smirking as he does so, following Wilbur to his room, he takes a seat  on Wilburs bed, Wilbur sits beside him after grabbing his laptop.

"So I made a power point," Wilbur choked out as he started up his lap top, Dream slung an arm around his shoulders and his speech seized for a second, "but if we start with cartography, I could just pull up a map for you to mimic."

"I can freehand," Dream said as he opened his binder, already beginning a sketch, arm still resting on Wilbur.

"You do that then," Wilbur said, he was shaking a little bit, trying to ignore every single sensation building his lower half, he was so close to hitting his peak, but he just tried to ignore it in favor of withholding some dignity; he shifts in his spot and a short moan escapes, he can't help the reflex to cover his mouth, Dream quirked a brow.

"Alright, it is painfully clear that you're horny as shit right now," Dream said bluntly as he shut his binder.

"What gave it away?" Wilbur asked meekly despite knowing very damn well that he wasn't doing a very good job of keeping it discrete.

"Everything," Dream said, his expression blank as he placed his binder on the ground, Wilbur sighed a bit.

"Yeah, sorry about this, we can try this again tomorrow when I don't have a vibrator up my ass," Wilbur offered, there goes every last shred of his dignity or what little he had in the first place.

"I mean, the real question is whether or not you want a hand," Dream said, his confidence in the question had Wilbur shaking a little bit, he stands up, "but we can reschedule like you offered-"

"No! No it's fine, I'd love a hand dealing with this if it isn't too much to ask," Wilbur practically begged, this was too much for him to even comprehend happening, from being caught off guard with a vibrator in his ass to having his crush offer him a hand to deal with his boner, today is wild.

"Amazing, I suspect you'd know what happens next," Dream said, almost expectantly, it takes Wilbur a good five seconds before it clicks in his mind and he shimmies out of his pants, "wow, I really got lucky today." That makes Wilbur freeze, so many implications in one sentence, he couldn't even begin to pick it apart.

"What next?" Wilbur asked, last time he had sex was, well, it was a while ago.

"Don't you remember? You're smart enough to figure it out if you don't," Dream said, lazily reaching for his belt, pulling the buckle loose as he did so, he adored Wilburs reaction of trying to get into an acceptable position, it was good enough, although not perfect, "now just hold still," he pauses before coming to a name, "pup, or maybe you're just a good boy, ditch the dog thing." Wilburs reaction is audible and it makes Dream shiver at just how easily he can react.

"Really?" Wilbur asked quietly as Dream walked over, he could barely hear footsteps on the carpet.

"Really," Dream said, gripping the base of the vibrator and yanking it out forcefully, Wilbur has to force himself from recoiling at the sudden absence, although he does orgasm, "good boy." There it is again, Wilbur shudders as he hears it.

None of this feels real to Wilbur, it feels much more like a dream than anything else, like hes floating on bliss, his grip on reality is all to real though because this is happening. Those really are Dreams hands roaming his shaky form, and yes, it really is Dream whose lining up to potentially split him down the middle. But it hurts more than anything when Dream is actually inside, Wilbur choking out a 'stop' instead of a shriek of agony, he can't help the tears building up.

"Shit, what did I do wrong?" Dream asked almost instantly, this was the exact opposite of what he wanted.

"Nothing, fuck, just don't move I need a minute," Wilbur choked out between pants, hoping his explanation would suffice, he reached for more words despite the fact that what he had said was already enough, "over stimulation, doesn't last long."

"Right, just say when, don't wanna hurt someone pretty as you," Dream said softly, the praise made Wilbur want to sob in a good way, he didn't expect praise to feel good, the fact he didn't get enough of it anywhere else in life probably added to that.

It was nice, even just being there in silence with Dream, locked together in such a position, felt like he was getting something he didn't deserve but craved. Dream was too good for him, but here they are, and Wilbur didn't even have to initiate things, unless you count trying to interact with someone while having a vibrator stuck up your ass as initiation. Eventually, it stops hurting, and Wilbur shakily raises his hand, giving a thumbs up and a bit of a nod, hoping that got the message across, afraid that if he opens his mouth he'll either moan or sob, and he doesn't want to learn which.

Dream gets the point with ease and starts moving, albeit rather slowly, almost sluggishly, and the lack of negative reaction gives him enough confidence to speed up. Once Wilbur starts to stop biting back the sounds that bubble up and escapie does Dream really enjoy himself because he's doing a good enough job. His grip rested on Wilburs hips, shifting away from the noticeable bruise which he plans on asking about, Wilbur whines a little bit when he brushes over the sensitive spot, Dream purposefully keeps a finger resting at its edge.

It feels like its not enough to Wilbur, feels like he's not doing anything to add to the experience by just laying there and vocalizing as he takes it. Then the praise starts, its relentless and has Wilbur practically melting even though the compliments are being pulled from seemingly random places that have nothing to do with gay sex. Each piece of praise cuts deeper than the last, bolstering what little self respect he had, he loves it. From simply being called a good boy to saying he sounded nice or even that his interior design taste was on point it all hit him exactly the same- right in the pleasure trigger.

Even as Dream slows down just a bit, the praise doesn't stop, that alone makes Wilbur hornier than he could ever imagine getting from praise, he can focus more on the words. Its clear as well, and a beautifully high pitched noise was torn from him when Dreams hand retreated from his hips to grasp his cock instead. His balance gives out completely at that and he ends up slumped against his mattress almost entirely, face buried in the sheets, it muffles his moans to some extent.

"Fuck, has anyone ever told you how fucking great you are?" Dream asked, he sounded winded, and his speech was awkwardly portioned due to panting in between, Wilbur could only muster shaking his head, if he opens his mouth with intention to speak he knows he'll only release some guttural sound of ecstasy, "thats stupid- Wilbur you're amazing, period, the perfect boy." A moan is elicited at being dubbed the perfect boy by his crush of all people.

Then the peak hits Dream, he doesn't even bother pulling out right away, mainly because he fears he'll lose balance and just fall over on his side, also because he likes just being here, with Wilbur, blissed out on sex- he ministers off a few more strokes until his partner orgasms as well, to be fair of course. Wilburs panting, they both are, that was certainly an experience, the entire day so far has been a new experience Wilbur was not ready for in the slightest. When Dream does pull out cum oozes from Wilburs ass just a little bit, he takes only a few seconds to admire his work before falling back, head beside Wilburs.

For a little bit they stay and breath with each other, just existing in such a state with Dream of all people made Wilbur feel like he had won the lottery. When he lies down and Dream actively curls into him he feels like he could spontaneously die and be happy about it. A nagging questions comes to mind as soon as his clear state of mind starts to fade away and he has to ask it because if he doesn't now he'll never get another chance.

"Am I really great?" Wilbur asked gently, Dream pushed himself up, resting on his forearms.

"Fuck yeah, I wouldn't just say that to get you off man, promise, you're amazing alright and I'd be charmed if this wasn't a one time thing," Dream over explained, trying to get everything on his chest off now before he never gets a chance to say it again, "I love you dude, we can still just be friends though." The first half of the sentence has Wilburs heart already pounding once again.

"I love you too," was all Wilbur could produce, it felt like a hundred pounds of stress had been lifted off his chest as the words rolled off his tongue, the way Dreams demeanor lifted was unreal, "can we stay like this for a while?"

"Of course, you can tutor me some other time," Dream said, dropping back down onto Wilburs bed and curling into his touch again, it was addicting and he has as much as he could want or need.

Chapter Text

To say George liked the attention Dream relished on him would be a gross understatement; he loved it, a vampires sense of devotion unlike any humans and he'll never be able to leave him because he'll never get a love like this again. He knows that and so does Dream, but he keeps testing it, keeps testing what he can and can't do to withhold that devotion that he's attained and nothing shakes it. It's almost addicting, being smothered in attention day in and day out, teasing bites tracing along his ankles to his throat, he loves it and he can't quite get enough no matter what he does.

He's Dreams only love and given who knows how long he's spent without being able to relinquish eternal adoration and devotion, it spills over every edge and George is caught in the wave. Even the little things make George swoon just a little bit harder for Dream because its for him, no one else, who could resist a vampire anyways? No one can blame him whenever he returns home for a day, he gets a a bunch of conversation starters and jealously from his human friends because who wouldn't want to fuck a vampire frequently?

Actually, that's a lie, it doesn't happen as often as one would assume, and they've yet to fuck this month.

And while George doesn't mind the fact that they haven't been getting jiggy in the last few weeks he is feeling a bit deprived. He won't push his desires onto Dream anymore than he's previously tried and failed at, but he has been trying to sprinkle in the notion that he wants to fuck here and there. Otherwise all he can do is sit and wait for Dream to decide its time to have at it, letting the motions of his now semi-nocturnal lifestyle wash over him, the aspects of gothic vampire living never ceasing to amaze- he learned how to use a short sword last month because Dream thinks they're cool as shit for the vampire aesthetic. He doubts he'll ever have a chance to actual put his knowledge and skill to the test, but its potentially an important thing to know in case of a very specific set of circumstances.

In fact, the only thing he dislikes about being locked in devotion with Dream is being prohibited from eating garlic in large quantities, a price he has to pay for having a vampire for a mate. He's allowed a morsel here and there but not much more because Dream really, really hates garlic, it won't necessarily kill him in small amounts, but it makes him feel ill- in small portions lacing Georges blood it adds a little bit of spice that he enjoys despite all odds. The castles supplies have changed stock greatly since Georges arrival, from blood, preserved food, and a wine cellar, to real food replacing most of the contents. Dreams become quite fond of it all because different mixtures of food give Georges blood different flavors, he personally likes the hint of brisket and oddly enough, pomegranate, shame its hard to get a hold of.

Still, despite everything George dislikes about the relationship, a singular thing in total, he continues to find himself perched between Dreams legs while he sits on the throne, relishing in attention. He especially loves to relinquish his vampire with all sorts of subtly seductive touches and attention whenever other important monsters are visiting. Even during those meetings when Dream is preoccupied he'll find himself talking to guys like Sapnap, the werewolf representative, and Quackity, the lab made monster representative, because he feels more comfortable around non-humans than his own kind. He doesn't understand why playing drinking games (and sometimes winning) with a werewolf makes him feel alive when playing pool with a human just makes him feel dead inside and out; but he wants to savor this feeling of living because he'll die soon enough.

And even though no one is around, he's still a little bit shocked when Dream slides a hand up his shirt, perched atop the throne, it draws a squeak from him and he turns red. Dream ceases his advances immediately, he goes to retract his hand but George wraps his arms around the vampires neck instead, pulling him closer. A smirk is playing at Georges lips as he teases for a kiss, greeted with a small nip on his upper lip before an actual kiss, its enticing and George can't explain why.

"So, finally decided I get a treat?" George asked teasingly, barely withholding a moan as fangs sharp as swords dragged along his jaw and down his neck.

He only gets a hum in response as nails, a little bit sharper than that of a humans, drag across his skin leaving rapidly disappearing marks that stung a little bit. It made George shake just a bit as fangs rested at the crook his neck, poised to bite and tear, to rip him open and leave him bloody- he knew Dream wouldn't do that, he trusted Dream. He frequently bore his neck in the company of a vampire so if he got killed in the process it would be on him, but Dream was so careful with biting down but never breaking skin.

It makes George moan, he really, really wants to see his own blood though, in all the time they've been together (nothing to Dream) they haven't ever broken skin while doing the nasty. He can't pinpoint what exactly about the imagery of Dreams face spattered with his own blood makes him shudder in anticipation, but it does and he wants it to become a reality. He grips Dreams neck, where the gouging scar of fangs that proves his authenticity as a vampire lies, it makes him whimper and George loves that sound- he responds by rubbing the always visible scar. Dreams whimpering, although only pathetic, makes George just a little bit hornier, not by much, its more like pouring gasoline on a bonfire, its already burning, you're just adding a little more.

"Dream," George manages to get out breathlessly, his vampiric mate lifting his head from his neck, a canvas covered in fading paints that can be covered over and over.

"Yes?" Dream asked gently, pulling up one of Georges hands, trailing kisses that verge on bites along the back of it, the wrist, and along the major veins; George is shuddering.

"Can it get bloody tonight?" George asked quietly, Dreams response was delayed and clearly nervous.

"You're sure you're okay ruining this shirt? And permanently ruin your necks sanctity?" Dream asked, running a blunted nail across the thicker veins of Georges neck, no human could spot them, Dream only able to pinpoint the location because he can smell the iron rich liquid and hear it pumping through his veins like clockwork, "and well, sacrifice your last strands of humanity?"

George nods fiercely and Dream pulls away his hand, lifting George closer to an almost sitting position, guiding him to prop his head in a way comfortable for both that also gave Dream an impressive angle to work with. One hand still running under Georges shirt and ever slowly inching closer to where that arousal was sent while the other gently held the back of his neck to prevent straining it. Then he dived in, a little bit reluctantly, mouth full of fangs, as though some had freshly grown in on command, they easily broke skin and a guttural sound fell out of George as his flesh was torn a bit and his vein popped open, he felt light headed and it was amazing.

It was like a drug, he loved it, why didn't he think to ask sooner? He doesn't know, can't quite grasp reason as he looks at Dreams face, lips coated in the same red splattered across the rest of it- then he licks the ichor off his fangs, George shudders. He doesn't know why this is pushing him so close to the brink, but it is, it's having effects he wasn't sure were possible simply by biting, maybe its the venom. Yeah, yeah that would make sense, he's heard the venom has adverse and different affects on everyone, some get paralyzed, some go brain dead permanently, and some have it act as an aphrodisiac. George must be in that lucky percentage, or he's just really, really into biting and never knew, whatever the reason he doesn't mind, he just wants to feel it again.

He gives a small moan when Dream grinds the heel of his palm against his cock, the added touch of jean on skin friction only amplifies the sensation. It's like someone is shooting corn syrup directly into his veins, it feels amazing, all of it, even though it should feel bad, should feel painful. Every touch, every bite, it was all really, really nice, even when nails dug into his hips to the point they bled profusely, but the wounds mended themselves rather fast. That would be the venom, it was already stitching his throat back together, the blood outside remained outside the wound and oozed into his shirt, cotton absorbing it with ease.

"Do it again," George got out, he sounded a bit drunk and Dream gladly obliged, he could taste the everything on Georges blood, the hints of wine, the undertones of pomegranate, it was a feast of the senses considering it still smelt like regular old blood- the action ripped a few more moans from George, Dreams hand cleaved Georges belt in twain and slid his hand past the waistband, it earned a shaky moan.

Strokes were gentle, but the drag of nails was too much, or maybe it was the blood loss, naw, it was definitely the pressure dragging along him wherever their bodies made contact. Floating would be a decent way to describe how George felt right now, like he was lighter than air yet still firmly grounded in place at the gush of warm blood. He could focus on something if he wanted to, but it felt nicer to just kind of, accept however he was going to react and however Dream was going to act in turn. He still hit ecstasy eventually, but that feeling didn't go away for a while, and all he could focus on after he hit that pleasure peak was feeling Dreams touches and latching onto that marker of reality. His entire body felt kind of tingly and his gums ached, he also felt a bit slimy, but that was just the blood, and the lingering, fiery, sensation on his neck was heavenly. Blood loss wasn't fun, it was an interesting experience, but everything after the intended effects were not, even upon coming down from floating he still felt all numb.

He opted to move, but he felt like an old machine when he did so, rusted into place, everything was screaming at him not to move, although he could still vocalize and focus on the room around them and the smells. He tasted blood in his mouth before realizing he was almost choking on his own teeth, he hacked and coughed, forcing himself upright to spit them out, his cuspids. Almost instantly did a fresh set of teeth grow in, fangs sharp was needles, they were dripping something, that must be venom, what the shit? Getting turned wasn't exactly something he had planned on happening, but it was an interesting surprise, one he wouldn't mind if he could move without his body fighting against him. This meant he could exist virtually forever, unless someone decided to force a stake through his heart, or expose him to large quantities of garlic and silver; he had a hunch he was still more human than vampire for the time being at least. He laid back down in Dreams arms, he groaned a bit, everything felt numb yet still tingled in way that was almost painful, but his now scarring bite felt like fire.

"That's the venom kicking in," Dream said bluntly, Georges eyes flicked up, as though begging for more information, "you'll be kind of numb for a bit."

"I can still eat garlic right?" George asked pleadingly, he had just sacrificed his garlic privileges without even realizing it in the process.

"Heres hoping," Dream said as he stood up, Georges bloody form in his arms, he was mostly limp, almost corpse like, "do you want a bath to clean off the blood before it dries?"

"I can't really move my body, but if you're willing to lend a hand, then yeah," George said as Dream carried him through the castle, that phantom sensation of a bite was what he focused on instead, they would be doing a lot more biting in the future, hopefully it wouldn't ache this much again.

"I don't mind in the slightest," Dream said, placing a prompt kiss to Georges forehead, the latter smiled a little bit.

"I love you Dream," George said softly.

"I love you too," Dream answered with in an equal tone.

Chapter Text

Hi ya'll!

Not to be an attention slut, but yeah, I'm pulling an attention slut move and updating an authors note to ask for requests, I was hoping it wouldn't come to this but as of late the karlbur fic that was requested has given me a hefty case of writers block and I can't quite push past a certain point no matter how much I rewrite it. Fret not requester of the karlbur fic, it'll get published once it's done and currently I'd say it's at 45% which is pretty good considering I have another request book and various multichapters going at once. So yeah, this update is pretty much just me asking for requests so I'll have more that I'll be able to work on for you guys as soon as I'm done the karlbur fic, if you do leave a request you'll find all the terms and conditions in chapter one.

Hope you guys are having a good one!

- Paprika

Chapter Text

Karl and Wilbur didn't go out on dates all that often, and there wasn't much need to do so at that. Wilbur could cook good food and Karl could pirate any movie out there, why pay extra when you can do it at home? Of course, that didn't stop Karl from yearning to go somewhere with Wilbur, a restaurant, the theatre, maybe even a hockey game if their cities team was playing.

It still took a lot more incessant nagging than expected on either end to get out of the house and do something fun instead. Wilbur ended up letting Karl conduct most of the plans, so long as the latter was happy the former would be as well. He planned full well on making sure that Karl didn't dare remove the collar, a mere thin leather strip, it was made of the hide as his gloves he never had a good reason to wear. And according to Karl things would be simple, things would be easy, go in, bum around for a bit, order some drinks and snacks, play a game of pool and go home for the night.

Wilbur was still a little bit apprehensive on the matter, he hated it when people stared at his boyfriend. And whenever they went out in public no one could seem to tear their eyes off of him until Wilbur shot daggers at them. He did enjoy it when Karl got to have a bit of fun and be some guy out in public. Sure, when he was out in public alone he could act like a slut for all Wilbur cared, but if the musician was there the defensiveness skyrocketed. The little things he did in public to remind Karl who he belonged to usually kept him in line good enough for the time being.

"I'm starting to think this might be a bad idea," Wilbur said calmly as he watched Karl do a twirl in his outfit, it was simultaneously form fitting and loose in some spots.

Karl shot him a playful glare, hands on his hips, "c'mon Wilbur, I spent weeks convincing you for one night at a pub and you're backing out?" He straightened his posture and reached for an overcoat.

"I'm just worried is all, who knows what kind of perverts are in the crowds these days," Wilbur stated calmly as he stood up, he grabbed Karls hand, "I just don't want to lose you."

Karl smiled, "don't worry, you're the only man for me, and hey! You can wear those gloves you love so much!" Karls offer was optimistic and Wilbur smirked a bit as he reached for the drawer that held his gloves.

He pulled out the fingerless gloves, leather a sleek black that matched his partners collar, "they still fit perfectly," he brought his finger up to tug at Karls collar, smoothly running a finger between skin and leather, "matchies."

Karl stifled a giggle, "you're not wrong, now come on! Let's go have some fun Wilbur!"

Karl pulled Wilbur along throughout the house they shared, his giddiness elicited a smile from Wilbur. Even making it down the drive way Karl was tapping his feet in a mindless tune out of excitement. When the car revved to life was when Wilbur started to talk again, going off about how lucky he is to have a man like Karl. Someone so loyal, someone so subservient, and most of all someone who knows how to have a bit of a laugh. Then they arrive at the pub, Karl has to guide Wilbur over to the counter where he can order something to drink. He somewhat reluctantly orders a Manhattan while Karl orders a margarita. Drinks are slid down to them before Wilbur can blink.

Karl takes a sip of his margarita, "I think I'm gonna go dance."

Wilbur places a hand on his thigh, when Karl looks up at him he smiles, "don't go having to much without me Karl."

Karl smiles back, "obviously," he stands up, glass still in hand, "I'll be back soon enough don't worry."

Wilbur nods, watching as Karl retreats onto the dance floor with a grin on his face. Everything is so much for Karl here, the bright lights and loud music, it's bouncing around inside Wilburs skull and he doesn't quite love it. But, Karl is having so much fun, mixing with the crowd, it looks like he's laughing a little bit. Wilbur lifts his drink to his lips and takes a sip, the burn of alcohol is one he usually avoids but tonight he lets himself savor in the sensation sliding down his throat.

He spins on his seat to face the wall of UV lit drinks on the wall behind the counter, waiters, servers, whatever you call them are mixing drinks with precision. Wilbur holds a sense of respect from the seamless effort they exhibit on the outside, spilling ice, alcohol, and garnishes into glasses for an amazing concoction. He finds himself reading the list of specialty drinks, he downs the rest of his Manhattan before ordering for a different drink. He's never seen any of the specialty drinks, must be house specials, all of them look much better than The Cement Mixer. He chuckles a bit as he thinks of the time he convinced Dream to take a sip of the vile drink.

When a drink is slid his way he takes a sip and the fruity flavors burst in his mouth as he spins his seat back around to the crowd. He lets his eyes roam the interesting spread of people, he sees fashion of every kind and so many clashing colors it almost makes his eyes hurt. His gaze lands on Karl and he can feel his blood boil at the sight laid out before him.

His boyfriend, innocently flirting with another man, like he doesn't see the want in the mans eyes. Wilbur doesn't react right away, unsure of what to do with the taste of alcohol lingering on his tongue. Then he pulls out his phone, frantically typing 'stop.' to Karl.

He stares at his boyfriend almost desperately as he waits for a response. Karl pulls out his phone and he looks over to Wilbur briefly before typing back 'no' he goes to back to flirting twice as fast. Wilbur sends another message, then another, he gets no responses aside from the occasional glance his way. The man takes one step closer to Karl and Wilbur is walking over, he's prepared to kill someone but he knows better as its frowned upon in most places.

Wilbur slings an arm around Karls waist, "who ya talking to baby?" Wilbur cringes internally at the pet name but anything to get his point across.

"This is Wilbur, he's my boyfriend," Karl introduced awkwardly, he felt his knees go weak as Wilbur grasped his side a little bit tighter, he messed up and it's setting in his mind like concrete, "who I love dearly."

The man in question gave a bit of a nod, "alright, fine by me, we could still have fun," his touch outstretches a bit closer to Karl.

Wilbur stifles a laugh at the notion, "when I'm here? I'd like to see you try and lay a hand on my pet without me breaking it first," his threat is venomous, and the stranger retracts his hands instantly.

"Okay, I'll go," the man left after giving his final piece.

A brief pause is held between the lovers.

"What the fuck Wilbur-!" Karl began, he was cut off by Wilbur.

"We're going home, now," Wilburs voice was a demand in itself and Karl didn't dare disobey it.

Wilbur gripped Karls wrist so tight it would leave marks, it drew a silenced whine as he led Karl back out of the club. Between the chaos Wilbur only felt himself growing more agitated at Karls actions, the fool, he could've gotten hurt or worse. He forces open the door and tugs roughly when Karl tries to wrench his hand away from the grip laid down so firmly. He turns back to glare at Karl expectantly as he comes to a halt.

"Sorry," Karl murmured softly before being dragged out to the car.

The door is held open and he reluctantly takes a seat, he crosses his arms over his chest after doing up his seat belt. Wilbur sits down next and slams the door shut, he forces the keys into the socket and twists aggressively. The car revs to life and his grip on the steering wheel is tight enough to make his knuckles turn white.

And Karl, well, Karl is horny.

He originally planned to make Wilbur just jealous enough to fuck him in a bathroom stall, but he took it to far. Now Wilbur is fed up with him to what appears to be an extreme degree and he's worried more than anything. Last time Wilbur looked this agitated, he didn't touch Karl for three days, not even a chaste kiss or brushing hands, he avoided it entirely despite Karls begging. Fear sat heavy in his stomach at the potential of having the euphoria of touch taken away from him for even a day.

It was raining outside, shimmering sparkles crashed down on the windshield and reflected streetlights. Karl glanced over to look at Wilbur, he looked just a little bit less stressed out than before- he looked calm. A sense of what almost felt like excitement washed through Karl at the revelation, he was partially hoping this would be a calm before the storm type thing. He looked straight ahead, he kept his arms locked firmly over his chest and tried to keep his expression as flat as possible.

When the car came to a halt and Wilbur took in a breath, he caught Karls hands dropping to undo his seatbelt. He reached over and placed a hand on Karls thigh, the slight grip to it was territorial, Karl glanced up. He looked a little bit unimpressed as he waited for Wilbur to speak.

"Karl," Wilbur began with an icy calm to his voice, "have you forgotten who you belong to? Who you serve?"

What he says isn't a question, both of them know that. Wilbur barely catches Karls lip quirk up at the slightest show of a smirk.

"Possibly, could you remind me Wilbur?" Karl asked, cockiness in his voice was layered on thick, enough to kill a man.

Wilbur felt a twinge of annoyance shoot off, "Karl," he almost speaks in a growl and Karl simply smirks.

"Oh? Me? I'm my own master, I could've sworn that wasn't how it worked," Karl teased, the grip on his thigh tightened a bit, he undid his seat belt and leaned a little closer, "or am I mistaken Wilbur?"

Wilbur takes a steadying breath, "last chance Karl."

Karl pushes it further, "last chance? Wheres the fun in that," he watches Wilbur undo his seat belt, "doesn't discipline take lots of trial and error anyways Wilbur?"

"You're asking for it now," Wilbur practically snarled as he hooked an arm around Karls neck and tugged him into a kiss.

Karls hands instinctively reached up to push back, but he was effectively locked into place, he couldn't escape even if he wanted to. Instead he moaned into the kiss, if it could even be called a kiss at that, all it consisted of was carnality and aggression. Wilbur barely pulled back long enough to breath in, back at keeping Karls mouth shut in seconds. When he unhooked his arm it was only so it could grip Karls forearm instead, even through the fabric of the jacket his grasp was hard enough to sting. Karl tensed a bit at the squeeze on his arm but he loved it, Wilbur pulled away first, both of their faces were red.

"Get out of the car and stand at the hood," Wilbur said, Karl didn't react right away, "did you not hear me? That was an order."

"I heard," Karl said as he leaned away from Wilbur, hand blindly reaching for the door handle, "but what fun is it if I just submit?"

Wilbur glared at him before exiting the car in a rushed manner, as soon as Karl reached the hood of the car he was pushed onto the wet surface. Rain still hit them, pouring down as Wilbur held Karls wrists above him, pressing them to the windshield. Karl only smirked, even as Wilbur leaned back down, throwing him into another rough kiss. Teeth nipped at his lips and his tongue as they intertwined, breaking apart for mere moments and Karl was loving every second of it.

"You absolute whore," Wilbur got out between breathy pants, "I bet you wanted me to take you then and there didn't you?"

"How could you tell?" Karl asked cockily as he shifted his hips, grinding into Wilbur who dropped a hand down to still his motions.

He yanked Karl from the hood of the car, hand pressed to the small of his back to lead him to the house. His actions held a rush to them, an aggression he couldn't explain, especially with the constant of dipping back in for more of the taste he couldn't get enough of. He kept going back, teeth and tongue as he swayed them to the house, grasping blindly for the door to open it.

It was dark inside, the only light available to their blind passion was what little brightness of the street lamps that filtered in from between curtains. 

Wilbur led them to the couch before pushing Karl onto to it, his partner stumbled and collapsed; a spark of pain shot off and he moaned. Karl looked up at Wilbur expectantly, legs bent over the arm rest of the couch and he needed it so badly. He whined out as he watched Wilbur start to look for something. The rain littering his hair and his face somehow only amplified how needy he looked whenever Wilbur glanced over.

And as much as Wilbur wanted to take him swiftly and roughly, choke him and slap him, he knew that wouldn't work. He knew that wasn't how Karl learned his lesson, nor did he like it that way; he preferred to be verbally slapped. He enjoyed having his sight taken away and only being taken through the motions via touch and sound, it was something Wilbur had learned to play into.

He opened a drawer and yanked out the first strip of fabric he could find, it was silky smooth and lay angled at the edges. He snapped it taut in his grasp as he walked back to Karl, shedding his pants as he did so, they hit the floor with a thud, phone still in them. He found himself perching over Karl at an awkward angle, leaning over the armrest and lifting his head to tie the blindfold over him. He caught the faintest sound of a whimper from Karl, a hint of distress to it.

"Karl, color," Wilbur stated firmly, refusing to move forward with his advances, hands still resting at the knot.

"Green, green, fuck me Wilbur, rail me until I go blind with how many stars I'm seeing," Karl pleaded out, the desperation in his voice was beyond visceral, "I disobeyed, just fuck me."

Wilbur quirked a brow, "where'd your iron will go Karl? I thought you were defiant," Wilbur teased lovingly as he reached into his pocket, pulling a leash from the abyss that was his jacket pockets.

Said leash was made of leather, it was black and almost glossy, it hooked onto Karls collar comfortably. He gave a testing tug and Karl whined into it, bucking his hips at the burn of pleasure dripping down his spine. He shoved Karl further up the couch, his lover gladly shuffling about so Wilbur could take a seat, knees on either side of his waist. Wilbur held the leash high in one hand as he leaned close to Karl, he tugged once again and Karl responded all the same, reveling in the unintentional grind that shot euphoria off.

Karl moaned, he needed his jeans off desperately, he needed the layers of friction separating them to go from three to zero as soon as possible. He lowered his hands to his belt trying to unbuckle it, trying to remove it as fast as possible. Wilbur didn't stop him either, instead when he felt hands atop his own they simply nudged them aside to take off his jeans for him. They did so excruciatingly slowly, pulling the sipper at such a pace it felt like a slug could move faster- every single centimeter of pressure relieved made him bite back a sound. He had no clue what they would be when they escaped, but he wasn't quite ready to find out yet.

Then a firm grasp steadied itself at his hips, cold fingers dug right beside his burning skin, in one single motion his pants and boxers alike where shorn off of him. He moaned wantonly at the action, the rapid friction against his skin left a tingling trail of pleasure down his thighs. His voice petered off into breathy pants and groans of pleasure as Wilbur brought his hands to trail along his thighs and tug his leash. Pressure started to build up in the back of Karks throat, this entire situation felt like a tease- the tactful touches and tugs all left him briefly satiated but wanting more than before.

"Fuck me already! Please Wilbur I need you," Karl begged, agitation showed through in his voice at the beginning of his plead but it mostly shifted into pure want and lust at the end of it.

Wilbur gave a chiding hum, "have you forgotten my title, pet?"

Karl bit his lip, his mind was on the verge of melting and it would be so much easier if things heated up, "fine, master, fuck me, please," his tone is a little bit flat despite the pressure still building in his throat and now his skull, his lips quirked into a smirk, "or are you too scared- ah!"

Wilbur gripped Karls shaft tightly, dry skin on dry skin an absolutely detestable sensation but he would do anything to get Karl to shut up sometimes. He dragged his calloused touch up and then down, listening intently to Karls reaction, watching as he tried not to buck his hips.

"Watch your fucking mouth," Wilbur snarled out, Karl nodded obediently, he rolled his hips into every last centimeter of touch as Wilbur retract his hand, reaching into the depths of his seemingly infinite cloak pockets for a bottle of lube.

"Yes master," Karl got out meekly, he felt the pressure behind his eyes again.

Tears, red hot and spilling into his blindfold and pouring down the side of his face. He tried to hold them back, the slight sting in his eyes that they caused wasn't exactly ideal for the situation. But, there wasn't a lot he could do considering his situation, all he could do was cry out when Wilbur returned a hand to his cock. His chest heaved unevenly, he tried to even it back out again- he didn't even know why he was crying, maybe it was just because they hadn't done anything like this in a while.

A hand comes to his face, gently rubbing the tears from his cheek before sliding through his hair. He latches onto the grounding touches like a lifeline, afraid that if he let's go he'll start sobbing instead. It isn't even bad! It's just, it's just a lot all at once he supposed, then Wilbur speaks, voice soft.

"Color?" He asks it gently this time.

Karl pauses to take a stifled breath, "green, just a lot at once, green," he repeats the color and he isn't even sure if he's done it on purpose, but Wilbur drops his hand down again.

Digits slide along Karls cock dutifully, tactfully at that, each movement calculated and with a calm to it that Karl could never recreate. Moans simply fall out of him, whether he wants them to or not (he does), they just slip on out. They mingle with heady panting and the uneven rise and fall of his chest, his tears glimmer in the low light of the room.

A guttural moan is tugged through him when Wilbur eases a finger past his rim, circling the inner edge of his ass. Recently trimmed down nails dragging across the sensitive area, searching in a state of pseudo-blindness for Karls prostate. He knew exactly where it was, exactly which buttons to press, and he planned on doing so with a feigned clumsiness. He kept his knees ground firmly in the couch to keep his balance, no longer able to make use

of his hands for such a trivial act; he was reluctant to do so as he had to drop the collar.

He kept his focus on Karl instead.

Karl, truly what one would consider to be an angel in the streets and a freak in the sheets. A doll who could play mind games and look so innocent while doing it to. Karl, a childish defiance laced how he acted in bed even when he's strapped to bed posts or hit with a riding crop. His voice hit highs and lows in mere seconds of each other when tossed into the throes of pleasure. His outfits went from casual to slutty however he so desired to get under his masters skin and make him do what he wanted without actually saying it.

Karl, Wilburs other half.

Even now, an absolute mess on the couch, drooling and crying with his shirt pushed up and rain in his hair- he was still Wilburs perfect picture. He etched the contours into his mind, the shaky rise and fall, the slight changes in mannerisms as he veered ever closer. The way his hips bucked into the touch with a whiny keen of pleasure, the way his grip tore into the fabric of the couch. Every last drip of the scene was one that made it memorable, the cracks in his voice, the heat of his skin.

"Wilbur!" Karls voice came out threadbare as he cried Wilburs name, a hand shot out to tug his leash as soon as his orgasm began, shooting pleasure down his throat.

"Good boy," Wilbur purred as he dropped the leash and reached up to undo his lovers blindfold.

The fabric dropped and the room was far to dark to see the still fresh tear streaks and the puffiness due to the copious crying. Karl didn't sit up though, even if Wilbur had moved from his spot atop him he probably couldn't. His bones felt weak and his muscles were burning with the aftermath of the event, he was on cloud nine but all his eyes could focus on was Wilbur. Even in the sheer darkness of the room the musicians form appeared illuminated in all his half clothed glory.

Wilbur wiped the cum from Karls midsection and brought the fluid to his lips, he made sure to force eye contact as ran his tongue along his hand. He dipped between his fingers as he did so, sucked one of them and pulled it out with a semi-audible 'pop' to it. He placed one hand on the couch for support, his focus on Karl was drifting towards himself rather fast. He moved himself off of Karl who slowly pushed himself into a sitting position, euphoria still buzzed in his head.

"Did I do good?" Karl asked hoarsely, he was so thirsty, but the kitchen was what felt like eons away with every muscle in his body aching in pleasure and wanting more.

"You did amazing Karl, you've made up for your mistake tenfold," Wilbur said softly, leaning over to Karl and gently kissing him, a hand sliding to the waist band of his boxers- a hand was placed on top of his own.

Karl bit his lip, "I kind of wanna make that elevenfold," he sounded a little bit needy as he pressed the palm of Wilburs hand further against his cock, he caught the hitch in the musicians breathing.

"Can I get us some water first, maybe a snack," Wilbur offered, he would blow his load within the first ten seconds (fifteen if he was lucky) of seeing the downright sinful sight of a fucked out Karl sucking him off.

Karl awkwardly propped himself on his knees, bringing hands to Wilburs chest, "hydration can wait until I quench a different thirst," a shudder runs down Wilburs spine and he can't help how that made him feel, he lets Karl push him down.

"I'm putting you in charge more often if it ends like this," Wilbur said on an exhale, a stuttering breath escaped him when Karls fingers hooked into his waistband.

A tired smirk was on Karls face as he spoke, "sounds fine by me."

Despite his drowsiness and how drunk on pleasure he feels, he can't deny the eagerness to his actions. His everything feels a little bit dry except for his mouth, an excess of saliva on his tongue and his lips. He watched Wilburs hands drop to grasp something, they ended up on the couch. He catches the barely audible shaky moan the musician gives when he presses the flat of his tongue to the underside of his cock. He reached to grasp at Wilburs hips, purple painted nails digging into skin and grasping hard enough to make him squirm.

Wilbur grabbed the blindfold, "can I?" He glanced down to Karl desperately, he wasn't sure if the lack of eye contact would make it better or worse.

Karl pulled back, pre sitting on the back of his tongue and Wilbur could see it when he spoke, "if you want to," hands gently pulled the strip of silky soft fabric overtop of Karls face, his hands shook as he tried to tie the knot but he managed to do so, albeit sloppily.

Karl lowered himself back down, his grasp on Wilburs hips never faltering as he changed the position of his grip. His fingers fanned across the side of his hips, meandering along his ass. He lolled his tongue out before sliding one hand down to act as a guide for where Wilburs cock was, he easily took it all in one motion. Wilbur squirmed at the warmth that swiftly encroached on his length, although he outright moaned when he comfortably slid against the back of Karls throat. Hands reached to grasp at Karls hair, tangling in the damp hair with ease, his eyes were clenched shut at the tingling pleasure he tried to force down.

Karl just put his lips on his dick, he can't really be orgasming that fast, can he?

He isn't really sure, all he knows is how easily the pleasure is washing over him, it's not even washing over him. It's catching him off guard like an undertow and pulling him under, taking his breath away and forcing him to gasp for breath whenever he feels he won't moan if he opens his mouth. He lets his mouth crack open, barely a centimeter, but breathy pants intermingle with heady moans every time he does so as that coil of pleasuring pressure builds rapidly. Maybe if they started with this he'd have more control of how much his grip is slipping on letting this pleasure last.

His nails dig into his lovers scalp, "Karl," Wilburs voice comes out a throaty whine.

Karls grasp on his hips tightens to the point his nails would leave red marks, he presses the back of his tongue to the tip of Wilburs cock. Wilbur moans, a guttural sound tearing through him, it only gets louder when teeth are ran along the underside of his length.

"Karl!" His voice is still almost whining as he cums, his grip tightens in Karls hair, twisting a little bit.

He holds Karls head steady against his crotch and Karl takes all of it without fail like a good boy. Every last drop slides down his throat with ease, what doesn't make it down wells up under his tongue and in his cheeks. When Wilbur let's go he's panting, the high refusing to go down and he's thankful for that.

Karl sits up and swallows, first making sure Wilburs blurry gaze is on him, "so, have I repented for my sins yet?"

Wilbur pauses, his mind frazzled, "fucking what?"

"Flirting with another guy," Karl answered with, Wilbur gave a hum, as though in thought.

"I suppose, but I might have to consider switching you to a shock collar," Wilbur teased, his voice almost slurring with pleasure, he leaned onto the couch and into Karl.

Karl smirked, "ooh, kinky," he rested his hands on Wilburs abdomen as he laid back, the dark cloak kept them both warmed.

"Maybe ten days with a vibrator in your ass, one of the two," Wilburs voice was already a purr as he slid off of Karl and onto the fabric of the couch.

"Sounds fun," Karl answered with, letting a hand lay on Wilbur no matter the position.

Wilbur smiled, "it will be."

Chapter Text

Hi guys, sorry to not have this update be a chapter (don't worry I have one posting later tonight), but an urgent notice came to my attention. And well, I figured the best time to talk about the EARN IT act coming back would be right the fuck now before it can pass.

Here's a Tumblr link to the post explaining what's happening: https://www.tumblr.com/mcnotok/719711260304965632

For those of you who don't know what the EARN IT act is, from what I can gather it's main goal is to ban everything deemed 'unclean' from the internet, everywhere across the internet. And by unclean, that doesn't just mean CSEM/CSAM/CP, whatever it is you call it, it means everything that could 'harm the children.' That everything includes most, if not all, fanfiction, of any and all kind, from the fluffiest of F/M ships to the nastiest of M/M, all of it will be erased because 'it could harm the children' and as someone whose last reason to stay alive is my fanfiction, this'll bring more harm. And not only that level, it'll make tracking down actual molesters and groomers even harder due to the way it's been set up and laid out all neat like, I'm sorry if this seems scatterbrained, but please, go sign the petition, send in a call, do something to stop it.

Chapter Text

Sapnap sat on the couch, watching whatever it was that was playing out on the screen. He gave a puff of smoke, ringlets floating heavy in the air, the scent of brimstone lingers as it diffuses. He wasn't paying any attention to the screen in front of him, he ran his hands over the fabric of the couch, blunted claws playing at loose threads.

He just wanted Fundy to come home already.

It was a big day for the fox, at leas that's what the demon gathered from what he was told about what was happening. He knew that Fundy had to undergo a test of some sort, he wasn't sure if it was on paper or physical,  but either it would no doubt be a hassle. He couldn't wait for his dearly beloved mate to return home so he could smother him in attention. He was gonna cook a nice meal, watch a movie together, maybe even some tender lovemaking if the mood was right. He already had a brisket marinated the night before, and now it was slowly cooking away at a rather low heat so it would just fall apart at the slightest touch.

He pulled himself up off the couch and headed to the kitchen. His footsteps were heavy due to the nature of his biology, he was Bads kid, it only made sense his build up would be dense. He wasn't fat, not in the slightest, but he wasn't stacked either- he just got lucky that the demonic nature of his father didn't come by him visibly. Instead it was only internal, organs impossible to rend and muscles solid as stone. Aside from the whip like tail sprouting from his coccyx and the horns on his head. He found the humaneness of his arms was starting to trickle away as well, but in a way that it made him look scaled.

He pulled open the stove door and removed the tray, tinfoil was covering the top to keep the meat from drying out. He smiled a little bit as he peeled away the tinfoil and jostled the pan, the juices the meat was sitting in stirred up a wave of aroma. It washed over him in such a way it made him salivate, he prodded at the meat to find it tender on the inside with a bit of a jiggle to it despite the crispy outside. He turned the stove to its lowest setting and added a little bit of broth to the tray, grabbing a fork and moving around the onions and carrots. He covered the chunk of meat back up and slid back into the oven for fifteen more minutes, real low and real slow.

Sapnap headed back to the living room, a bit of a bounce to his step. He didn't make it as far as he'd hoped at the sound of a door opening followed by a proclamation of 'damn, it smells good in here' from Fundy. He heard the door close and then made his way to his mate, he refrained a couple extra moments as he shed his jacket before pulling the fox into a hug. He held many inches over the hybrid due to his demonic nature, but he still knew when to be gentle for the most part. Fundy gave a bit of a whine and Sapnap let him down, a bit of distress on his face as his partner wrapped his arms over his chest.

"So the day was long and we did a lot of exercises focusing on pectoral muscle building," Fundy said with a bit of a sigh as he pulled off his binder awkwardly, he took a step and there was a bit of a wobble, "And we did enough leg raises and jumping jacks to kill a man."

Sapnap brought a hand to Fundys shoulder, "Oh my dearest reynard, do you want some water? Food? I could run you a bath," Fundy waves off Sapnaps concerns and offers as sweet as they are, he just needs a nap and a day to rest and he'll be back on his feet in no time.

"I'll be fine, I'm just a bit tired is all," He yawns as he speaks, Sapnap takes a seat on the couch and Fundy follows, leaning onto the demon near entirely.

Sapnap gives a hum, it vibrates deep into his chest and makes Fundy smile, "Want me to go get some food?" Fundy shakes his head, nuzzling into Sapnap and tossing aside his hat. The action revealed orange ears that adorned his head perfectly, they swiveled a little bit. Sapnap wanted so badly to touch them despite all the times Fundy has said no, they just, they look so soft, and fluffy.

"I just want some sleep, you can watch a movie if you'd like," Fundy said, he yawns as he speaks and his ear gives a little flick and it's intoxicating with how cute it is.

Sapnap shifts in his spot a little bit and Fundy lounges across him just a little bit more, "Alright, feel free to conk out whenever."

"I might," He stretches as he speaks, his bushy tail swishes once, then twice, before curling up on him a little bit.

Sapnap glances down at his mate, well, his boyfriend, but terms like that are usually reserved for when they're in public. In Sapnaps culture, that of demons and angels, mate is the most common term because it doesn't matter so long as you have one. And in Fundys culture, that of hybrids ranging from bipedal animals to those with just ears and a tail, mate has always been the word because they're animals. But in the mostly human culture they've ended up residing in boyfriend and girlfriend and all sorts of nuance to conversation fill the languages.

Sapnap lets the movie roll as he watches his mate doze off to sleep. He makes little noises as he drifts into a comfortable semblance of slumber, whiskers twitch as do his ears. His mouth is stuck open, slack, he must've nodded off rather fast then, Sapnap finds himself in momentary shock at the notions. It usually takes Fundy a solid hour to actually start falling asleep, even in Sapnaps arms, how much working out did they do for that test? Sapnaps never seen the fox pass out so swiftly and comfortably, blunted claws resting along his torso and the couch, he's draped across the demons lap.

"Hey Fundy," Sapnap said, gently nudging Fundy as he spoke, no response at all. He brought his hand to rest at the base of Fundys tail, stroking the fur, it drew a sound from the fox. He trailed his hand up his mates back hesitantly, "Are you asleep yet?" He got no response again, he grinned a little bit as he brought his hand to the prize he's never been allowed to touch.

Potential of getting blow job privileges taken away be damned, he's touching those fluffy ears if its the last thing he does.

Sapnap brings his hand to rest behind one of them, there's a brief twitch and he halts, then Fundy gives an almost snorting sound in his sleep before returning to silence. Sapnap slowly scratches the fluffiest portion of the ear, the base, fur soft as silk on his fingers. His claws barely touched Fundys skin, gently rubbing the fur as he scritched the base- saliva was starting to pool at his lips. He ran his hand along the length of the orange fur and he swears Fundy started to kick a little bit as his mouth hangs open more.

He kept stroking the fur, slowly, a rumble in his chest acted as a faux purr, Fundy nuzzled a little closer to him. Sapnap took his claw and scratched at the base of Fundys ear, leaning a little closer to the edge.

And then Fundy moaned.

It was a quiet sound, could be played off as a snore, but then he did it again, a little bit louder. Sapnap should've stopped right then and there instead of pushing his luck, who knew how much Fundy could take before waking up mid-moan. Sapnap supposed they would be figuring that out today, he scratched again, ruffling the fur between multiple fingers at once. Fundy moaned again, this time it was loud, a little bit throaty and almost whiny, the kick of pleasure returned. The paw on Sapnap tightened a little bit, grip digging into the fabric of his white shirt comfortably as claws detracted. A yapping sound spilled from Fundys mouth as he shifted comfortably in his sleep, the drool trailing down his fur clung to white and orange strands.

Sapnap kept going, a bit of a smirk on his face as he did so, he never expected his perfect little fox to be that sensitive around the ears. It must be why he's so apprehensive to anyone touching them, cause he'll just start moaning. Of course, the sweet little sounds, low in nature are just a little bit more arousing than he'd like. He simply hopes Fundy can sleep through gentle ministrations to one of his lesser known erogenous zones and a boner awkwardly pressed into his thigh. He doesn't stop running his claws through the fur though, if the reynard wakes up the reynard wakes up.

"Sapnap..." Fundy keened, the demon in question froze up entirely only to realize his mate was just sleep talking.

"Yes?" Sapnap asked softly in response, Fundys grip tightened and he shuddered a bit as he continued the gentle stroking.

"More," Fundys voice barely carries itself to Sapnaps ears, but he hears, and he delivers much more, bringing a spare hand to rest at the base of his lovers tail.

He gently tugs claws through the somewhat matted fur or Fundys tail whilst the other hand strokes the fluffy orange fur on his head. He lets a rumble pour from his chest, a comforting vibration that he hopes is lulling Fundy further into sleep and away from the dick against his thigh. He pulls knots from the tail of his whimpering and moaning lover despite his shuffling. He hears a groggy groan and eases his actions; Fundys grip loosened.

"Mh, morning-" Fundy began, only to jump back a little bit as the pressure on his thigh became apparent. As he did so the hand on his ear skimmed across the sensitive spot rather roughly and he was too disoriented to stifle the moan, "Sorry!"

"It's fine," Sapnap said calmly as he shifted until he was sitting up, letting his eyes rake across Fundy- a perfect lover for a demon although many would say otherwise.

"No, no, it's my fault, I should've made it to bed at the very least," Fundy started to ramble out apologies, stumbling over his words as he did so.

And as much as Sapnap should be listening he can't quite bring himself to get his eyes off of his mates chest. The vague gesticulating as Fundy speaks brings waves of motion throughout the rest of his body and causes the enemy of all trans men and boob havers alike. His tits jostle as he speaks, and that's whats Sapnap is focusing on instead. He's horny! And who can blame him anyways, he just wants to take Fundy and rail him into next week.

"Really, it's okay," Sapnap said, voice soft as he inched closer to Fundy.

Fundy groaned in annoyance, "It's not! You had an amazing plan and I fell asleep- and then I started moaning in my sleep at that!" He sounds exasperated with himself more than anything, Sapnap rolled his eyes before slinging an arm over Fundys shoulders, using one hand to grasp one of his breasts and the fox moans. Fundy glances up to meet Sapnaps gaze, he sees it now, the lusting desire in the demons eyes.

"Like I said, it's fine, if your sleep talking wasn't lying at least," Sapnap pressed his digits into Fundys breast again, one by one and the reynard shuddered against the sensation, "If you want to at least," He leans in and speaks on an exhale, the scent of brimstone and a faint haze of smoke hit the fox.

Fundy nodded, desperation filled his actions as Sapnap leaned in a kissed him. Silky soft fur of his muzzle contrasted the cracks in Sapnaps lips as they interlocked, the hands gripping the hybrids form twisted him a bit. Sapnap slid his forked tongue between Fundys lips and against the flat one resting inside the foxes mouth. Fundy tensed a little bit at that, but the seize of his muscles dissolved as Sapnap ground his bulge against Fundys crotch and gripped his tit harder.

Sapnap pulled away for a second and his tongue darted out to lap at the saliva gathering on Fundys lips. It was just another essence of his lover, he could pick up trace remnants of the flavors from the day. But the strongest one was his own brimstone, he grinned at that as he slid his hands underneath Fundys shirt pressed a claw on the seam and pulled. In a second the foxes outfit was split perfectly in two and Sapnap could chuck it to the side before pressing one hand to Fundys back and the other to trail claws along his front. Fundy arched into the support for his back as the demons blunted talons traced across his form, from where the base of his stomach dipped to between his ribs and flicking along his nipples.

He was a bit of a moaning mess throughout all of it, the saliva gathering at his lips was cleaned away in another fierce kiss. Sapnaps tongue swiped between teeth and inner lip as he ground himself harder into the foxes thigh and crotch, watching his ears and tail twitch in excitement. He was swift when he pulled back, lowering his head to Fundys chest and taking one mound into his hand and suckling. A throaty yap tore through Fundy as he reached out to grasp at Sapnaps shoulders, detracted claws tearing into fabric with no abandon but the demons skin to thick to be torn. He panted as Sapnap gently bit onto the nub that topped it off, trying so very hard to coax him into lactating; the heat of the demons mouth helped.

"Lower," Fundy whined out in an almost barking tone, "Please, go lower!" His plead ended in a yelp at the sensation of milk spilling from his nipple- he could've sworn whatever pills he was on prevented that.

Sapnap pulled away, the drip of milk was dragged back to his mouth with a forked tongue, "Oh? How so Fundy?" The fox in question only whimpered and whined desperately as he tried to hump the air, searching for contact Sapnap pulled away from.

"Fuck me," Fundy barely got in a breathy pant as Sapnap groped his at his chest once more, "Fuck me until I can't walk in the morning," The claws in Sapnaps back dug in deeper, "Please."

"Alright," Sapnap said with a smug smirk as he did so.

He brought his hands to the waistband of Fundys pants and pulled them down slowly. He let his tongue flick past his lips in anticipation at the dampness pooling in Fundys boxers. He tugged down his own pants, spat on his hand, ran it up and down until he was sure that it would be enough. He was, he was a little bit different down there, being part demon and all. It was just a set of subtle, barely noticeable ridges on the underside of his cock, but Fundy still said he could tell in the morning after.

Sapnap returned a hand to Fundys chest, the other sliding past the fabric of his boxers and dragging a blunted claw along his slit. He moaned and whined out throaty noises as Sapnap nudged a digit inside, he was already fine from how often and how rough they did it. He was sure of himself that the demon could just thrust and there would be little to none pain on either end of the deal. The claws in Sapnaps back tighten when he laps at the fluids dripping his abdomen, up and up until he's suckling on his tit again.

"Sapnap," Fundy groaned in pleasure, a hand dropped from his mates back to try and tug down his boxers, the demon doing it for him.

"I would say be patient, but I'm not exactly in a place to speak," Sapnap spoke back in a low tone, he pitched it high in a nervous manner, his bi-phonic traits coming through. He tilted his head up to catch eye contact with Fundy as he brought the tip to his entrance, the reynard could only whimper and give pleading eyes.

"Mark me," Fundy choked out, voice pitching higher than he'd like as Sapnap bottomed out in a single motion, it left him momentarily dazed. He tilted his head to the side, revealing the spot where his kin bites to claim true love for life.

Sapnap hummed as he brought his lips to rest at the junction between neck and shoulder, he suckled gently. Fundy squirmed, twisting his torso to try and get Sapnap to actually bite him while the demon teases. He lets his teeth graze along the spot as he humps into Fundy, pulling out just enough to make the fox whine without fully removing himself. The couch creaks under the heavy motions, it's not until Sapnap bites down and pulls up Fundy to rest between the armrest and backrest that the movement stops giving the furniture troubles.

Fundy yelps as pressure is pressed into his neck, then it migrates. It tingles as it goes lower and closer to his chest, and aches it travels up his throat to his jaw. But Sapnap bites and sucks the hardest where he's sure that the marks he'll leave will be covered. Fundy lets himself wrap his legs around Sapnaps waist, one arm gripping his back for support while the other tilts his head.

"Make me scream," The fox speaks in such a way it almost sounds like an offer despite knowing it's a command and Sapnap does that exactly.

He picks up the pace, from a slow, almost loving one to that of carnal want. He mashes his lips against Fundys, trading spit and their fangs nearly clink against each other but they manage to avoid. He brings a hand to tug at Fundys tail and stroke his ears, the reynard squirms and moans into the kiss. He pulls back for mere seconds to exhale the smoke gathering as pleasure smothers his flames. Fundy nearly screams, no, he does scream, as Sapnap hits his G-spot and doesn't stop grounding into it over and over again.

Even as Sapnap comes ever closer he needs to make sure that Fundy gets just as, if not more, out of this than he does. He tangles his fingers in fur as he parts from the kiss, and Fundy is drooling in pleasure, losing himself in the roughness. Sapnap goes back in, lapping at it, from where it catches around his chin to the corners of his mouth. It has a heady taste of brimstone and the coals in Sapnap burn brighter because that's his flavor, no traces of past meals can be found.

It's all him on Fundy now, and with a low growl in his chest he climaxes. He leaves himself ground into Fundy as warmth spreads through the fox. He nips at where he's ready left so many marks under fur, the reynard keeps moaning. Orgasm washes over the fox gently as his body tingles with pleasure, the final domino being Sapnap toying with his chest. Claws tighten for a brief second and everything eases up, his fur stops standing on end and he let's go of the demon who flops over beside him on the couch, smiling contentedly despite the heave of their torsos.

The room smells like hellfire and sex, it's an interesting combination, undertones of brisket lay underneath it as well. It's almost like a campfire with friends, the scent of sheer heat on the air, the undertones of meat; aside from the scent of fucking it smells just like it. Fundy curls into Sapnap, the fur on his body doing nothing to help recreate the warmth being so close to a demon could bring. He starts to purr, or, as close to a purr as a fox can get; Sapnap brings a hand up to scratch behind his ears, Fundy moans.

"Watch your actions Sap," Fundys begins, throwing a lazy smirk on his face, "I think we're both too tired to have anything good come out of it."

The demon shrugged, "I'll be on my A game in no time dearest, I'll force you back to nirvana whenever my reynard," He nuzzles into Fundy as he speaks.

Fundy hums, "I'm expecting sex that good from now on then," He yawns, curling into Sapnap a little more.

"Alright, suit yourself," Sapnap brushes a hand over the fresh mating bites on Fundys neck, a sense of melancholy washed over him as he dragged a claw along the edges.

Due to their species mix being 'unorthodox' neither of their genetics accepted permanent bonds being made for loving status. No matter how hard Fundy bit on Sapnaps neck the bite wouldn't stay as a mating bite, it faded in days. But for Fundy, bruising hickies on the conjunction of the throat could stay for weeks before his genes remembered it wasn't allowed.

That didn't matter to either of the lovers though.

They'd keep laying down the marks no matter how much their genetics say no and everything else says yes.

Chapter Text

"Haven't you seen the way he looks at you?" Dream asked as he pulled a hoodie over his head, Wilbur was already putting on his fit for work.

Wilbur scoffed, "Like he wants to fuck me? Dream, please, everyone looks at me like that," He leans his back against the table with his makeup on it, resting his weight on his hands.

"No really Wilbur, he looks at you differently, like he wants you forever, not just once," Dream explained, grabbing a comb and brushing his hair just the right way.

He was on announcer duty tonight, which meant he got to dress in a snazzy suit instead of the usual outfits the workers wore. He got to walk on stage, mic in hand, and wax poetic about his coworkers to the patrons, he always made a show of strutting down the catwalk though. He even teased the audience a bit, swaying his hips just right and when they went to grab leaning in close and chiding them. It always got an uproar from the other patrons while the one who broke the rules left humiliated.

But Wilbur, tonight Wilbur was playing the role of the slut, he frequently did so. He had gotten to the point where he had tried every single routine, even made some of his own in the process. And on the nights he was the announcer he always made sure his suits were trimmed down as little as possible. Although on nights like these he often had hands desperately grasping for him and money being tossed his way. He reveled in it, he was certain he could've went down a different path, but this one paid the bills better than any other and he enjoyed it at that.

Wilbur rolled his eyes, "He's been here five times, and two of those times I was the announcer," He reached down to grab his feather boa, he didn't need it per say, but damn if he didn't make it work better than anyone else. It complimented the rest of his outfit perfectly, and despite everything, it really brought out his feminine qualities. The way it was cut simply grasped his hips just the right way and made them look wider, the way it squeezed his chest as well, perfection.

"Really Wilbur, if he gets a chance he's going to fuck you whether you like it or not," Dream said, he pulled back the cuff of the gloves and there was a snap, he reached for his top hat.

"Don't get my hopes up Dream, what would a demon prince want fucking a human slut like me anyways?" Wilbur asked, reaching for his lipstick, bright red or pitch black? Either way it made a statement and drew in a crowd, he glanced at his outfit, mostly reds and pinks, he opted for black lipstick.

Dream shrugged, "Just trust me, he wants you so bad."

"He really doesn't," Wilbur sighed as he spoke.

"George said he saw him looking for you, and Technos confirmed when he looks over the security cams, Sapnap the demon prince of the ring of Wrath, or was it Pride? It doesn't matter, he wants you Wilbur!" Dream exclaimed as he straightened out his coat tails, Wilbur gave a snort of laughter.

"You convinced the boss to look over the cams to prove your theory? How desperate," He sounded a bit smug as he spoke, pulling on gloves of a sheer fabric that reached just past his elbow, a perfect fit.

Dream groaned in annoyance, "We gotta be out there in twenty, if he's out there and you're on the catwalk, give him the one two punch with the classic," Dream sidled up to Wilbur, "Lean in real close and say something sexy," He added an overzealous purr at the end of his statement.

"Oh my god Dream!" Wilbur laughed as he spoke, the exaggerated drawling of the R sound had him int stitches, "Don't make me laugh man! But really, if he wanted me he'd buy a pass to the private lounge where everyone waits for a nightly suitor," He reached down and pulled up the final zipper on his dress. This time it really could be considered, maybe one you'd see in public at that with how much skin it covered. But to counter that there was a tit window that could kill a man and enough ultra fine and near invisible zippers to leave him in just a thong all over again. He wore strappy heels with it as well, a red so intense it matched cherries and magma with the glossy sheen of the leather.

"I guess we'll have to wait and see until after tonights performance," Dream said as he reached for his pointer, it was almost a cane. A crystal ball of sorts rested on the end of it and it glowed purple hues and swirled at that. How an artifact of the sort made it into a place like this is beyond him and everyone working in it, "You're doing the bar thing again right?"

Wilbur nodded, "I certainly am, except this time, I'll drop down and give the catwalk a strut."

Dream grinned, "Nice, that one is always a crowd pleaser, they're dying at your feet anyways."

Wilbur gave a single laugh, "They most definitely are, I expected as much in the ring of lust, but it's still insane."

"Well, pretty damn close to the ring of lust at least," Dream corrected as he gave his staff a twirl, "Right at the crux of where humanity and the ring of lust meet is where we are."

Wilbur rolled his eyes, "I was close enough Dream," He sat down on a couch and kicked up his feet to rest on the coffee table as he brushed his hair.

"Better to be accurate on these things if you're telling people where you work," Dream said, taking a seat beside Wilbur.

"And why would I tell anyone my job is professional slut Dream?" Wilbur asked, quirking a brow as he did so, Dream shrugged.

"Fuck if I know man- your act is the last one right?" Dream asked, trying to avoid getting berated for his stupidity until a later date in time, he could handle being made fun of for a stupid question, but not right before his time in the spotlight.

Wilbur nodded in approval, "Save the best for last, aerial contortion and trapeze, I'm the best of both worlds," He smirked as he spoke.

"That you are, now, I gotta go warm up the crowd a bit before the nobodies go up and do their burlesque number," Dream said with a 'chc-chc' noise at the end of his speech, he gave a wink before walking off.

Wilbur sat uneasy on the trapeze, up in the darkness behind red curtains left untouched. He had done this a thousand times over, but, what if Dream was right and the demon prince really did want Wilbur? He shuddered momentarily at the thought as his grip on the chains tightened. His gloves made the chafe feel like nothing compared to going without a small fabric divider between chain and skin.

He watched Karl saunter past the curtains and they shared a brief smile and thumbs up. Quackity came back in the other direction, wearing a suit to compliment Karls overly frilly dress, they must've done the strip tango again. It was always an experience to watch them tango, even without the strip aspect, or just dance in general. Wilbur saw them slow dance once, impossible skill laced every step and dip, matched with the carnal desire in each motion. It was a sight to see, the way hands gripped oh so tightly and teeth nicked at exposed flesh. He would give so much to be on the receiving end of that scenario, even if he was dancing with a demon.

"And now," Dream began, voice coming clear through the mic. Wilbur straightened his posture out and loosened his grip, easing himself up, "The main event, Wilbur Soot on the trapeze!"

He hears the clapping and hollering as the mechanism slowly lowers him down. The spotlight follows hims as curtains draw leaving him exposed in front of the simple backdrop. The first thing he does is lean forward, back to the crowd, reach down, and pull a zipper up the side of his dress to his hip. Then he leans himself fully back, one leg kicking up more than the other, hands grasping the chains tightly and the small of his back against the bar. The crowds cheers die down as he moves, the misty smoke of the room clouds most of his sight, a haze of pink disorienting him.

He's human though, it makes sense he's having such a hard time seeing. Most of the crowd is demon, smoke pours from their cigarettes or their own body. And the humans that do come are usually sitting closer to the front so they can see more. He drops a hand from the chain and smirks as he gives a faux wave to the crowd before hoisting himself back up. He grabs one chain tightly and slowly swivels himself around, a knee is bent around the support as he does so. Too much of his movement is restricted, he reaches down and pulls another zipper, this one is in the back and goes to the back of his knee.

The problem with his act is that he likes to wear tight clothing while doing it. And while that normally wouldn't he a problem if it was tight and didn't keel his legs clamped together. This dress he's wearing is the main problem, it restricts far too much of his leg movement to give a full show. He's doing a solo act as well, if he was duo things could be much more seductive.

He slides off the bar, hands still grasping chains. A burn sparks in his joints at the sudden stretch, he kicks his knee up until he's curled in on himself. The fabric of the dress works against him, all of his legs and ass on display, the crowd hollers. He hooks the back of his knees on the bar and lets go with his hands, he brings himself back up. He pulls himself all the way up this time, standing upright, the cleft between the sole of his shoes and the heel are pressed against the bar. He's barely shaking because he never does this, he still manages a somewhat seductive smirk.

"Who came here just for me?" He asked, hiding the crack in his voice perfectly, he scans the crowd.

He gets an uproar in response to his question.

He gives a chuckle, "Shame none of you can afford a touch then," He finds Sapnaps face in the crowd, smirking as the prince gives an exhale of magenta smoke.

Wilbur gives a little jump before sliding into a new position, one knee holding him while the other leg is splayed to the side. His hands are loose the entire time and he reached to the hem of his dress and grabs a zipper before pulling. The motion glides up his calves until the split finishes at his thighs, the fabric slides down and the crowd is simply cheering as more of him is put on display. He pulls himself up onto his bar and tugs the chain on the left three times and he's lowered even more.

When the chain is about four and a half feet from the ground it stops. He gracefully glides off of the bar, each step he takes is deliberate as he walks from the stage to the catwalk. He holds himself high as he comes ever closer to where Sapnap is standing, right at the end of the catwalk. He sees hands reaching for him, money flying his direction but he doesn't dare stop as he descends further into the pink mist. When he comes closer to the end he leans forward grabbing the final zipper and pulling along the side of his dress up to his waist along his side. He takes the final strides with confidence as his now four paneled dress swished with his movements. The crowd is ravenous but he doesn't care, nor does he pay attention because all he can focus on is his prize.

When he reaches the end he finds himself placing a hand on his knee as bends over until he's almost at eye level with Sapnap (if they were both on the same floor Sapnap would tower over him). Wilbur brings his spare hand to tilt the demon princes chin upwards as he loses himself in curls of smoke. For a brief moment there's eye contact and Wilbur smirks, giving a salacious laugh at the glint of hesitation in the princes eyes. He pulls back and the way he carries himself isn't right for a man, but it's everything Sapnap wants.

Wilbur leans in again, "Baby, you should spend your pocket money somewhere you'll get what you want," His words are spoken on a purr. Sapnap reaches out for just one touch and Wilbur had the guts to slap his hand away and glare, "Unless you're willing to cough up the real cash then all you can do is look."

And with that he pivots on his heel and leaves, strutting away with just as much confidence as he entered. He leaves Sapnap somewhat mystified as the demon tries to recount whether or not that really just happened, the haze in the air doesn't make it easier. Wilbur sits back on the trapeze, one leg laid loose while the other was hitched. He tugged on the chain four times and he ascended back into the darkness as curtains fell.

Sapnap, well, he's already on his way back out to where he spent his money to get in. The embers in his chest are stoked impossibly high and his arousal is spiked at the encounter. He feels almost lightheaded with how unreal it felts, the tingle on the back of his hand lingers. When he reaches the desk he's sure that smoke is pouring from his nostrils, a magenta fog follows him and curls around his horns as he moves. He finds the owner of the establishment to be flipping through dollar bills, a boar demon with tusks that could kill in one move.

Sapnap grabs a wad of dollars from his pocket and slams it down onto the counter. The Suidae looks up and glares at Sapnap as he places aside the stack he was counting and grabs the wad. He flicks through them momentarily before looking up and speaking, "So, what can I do you for?"

"I need a pass to meet her," Sapnap said, a form of urgency on his voice as he spoke, "To just touch her this once Techno."

Techno laughed, "As lovely as it sounds, I'm afraid we don't have a single 'her' working on staff."

Sapnap groaned, "The trapeze artist! Just give me a lounge pass!" He almost snarls but the desperation counters it.

"Oh! You mean Wilbur, I'm sure he'd love to get feeled up by one of the princes of hell," Techno said, a smug grin on his face as he spoke, he reached for a lanyard, "I'm not sure what you've given me is enough though."

Sapnap reaches into his pockets again, coming up empty of cash, he lays out whatever else he has that Techno could want. Out comes many items only a demon could crave, Techno shows no inclination to any of them except for the candies. Sapnap pulls out a can of metal polish and Techno snatches it away, he still looks unsatisfied, "I'd offer my soul but I don't have one- please Techno! I'm your best customer, and I could end this entire place if I wanted!"

Techno lets out a guffaw of laughter at the threat, "You love my sluts too much to do it, we both know that; specifically Wilbur," He opens the can of polish and takes off his clunky crown before starting to polish, "I'm sold."

Sapnap has to refrain from giving an exclamation of 'yes' as he's handed the lanyard, "Thanks man," He pulls it over his horns and it rests on his chest.

"Don't worry 'bout it, just do me a favor," Techno began, Sapnap waited patiently, gesturing for him to continue, "Don't break him, he has lot's of work tomorrow."

Sapnap nodded, "I'll try not to."

"One last thing," Techno added before Sapnap could walk off, "You've been coming here for years yet you still mistake Wilbur for a gal, right?"

"Look at him Techno! Do you really need to ask?" Sapnap asked, Techno gave a bout of laughter.

"Yeah, yeah, go have fun," Techno said, waving off Sapnap as he polished the glimmering gold of his crown.

Wilbur lounged across a couch, a faint gray haze filled the room, most of it was his fault. He still wore his heels and his dress, the low light of the room was his worst enemy, but he didn't care. It wasn't like anyone could afford what Techno charged to get an in anyways, it was just him and George sitting on couches across from each other. He gave another exhale of smoke, the faintly burning tip of his cigarette stayed as a contrast to the mellow tones of the room.

He sighed as he crossed one leg over the other, logistically, he understood why he's paid so much to just sit here and do nothing. One day somebody will hack up enough money, maybe tonight he's finally coerced someone into doing so. A prince none the less, he could afford it if he wanted it as bad as Dream said he does.

A door opened and Wilbur glanced over to find Quackity strolling in, wearing the suit he wore for his number. He looked spent, but he still sprawled himself across the leather of the couch George sat at. An exotic drink of some sort was held in his hand, the stem of the glass between middle and ring finger. He swirled the colorful fluid before taking a sip and extending his wings a couple times until he rested them comfortably.

"Hey Wilbur," Quackity began, breaking the tense silence abruptly, Wilbur looked over, "Wanna sip?"

Wilbur shrugged before standing up, "Sure," He strode over to Quackity and snatched the drink out of his hand before taking a sip, "Not bad."

"I know right, did I get a chance to tell you someone almost grabbed my ankle today?" Quackity asked as Wilbur handed him the glass.

"No, do tell though," Wilbur said, bringing his smoke to his lips again, taking a deep drag and spewing the smoke to the side away from Quackitys face.

Quackity smirked a bit, "So I was making my way across the floor right, and some fucker decided to lean in real close, he barely touched my ankle but I stomped on his hand anyways," Wilbur gives a snort of laughter.

"Really?" Wilbur asked with a poised brow, Quackity nodded.

"Really! I had to try not to laugh when it happened," Quackity explained, gesticulating vaguely with one hand as he speaks, "He nearly screamed I swear it!"

"Was there blood?" George asked, his tail wrapped itself around his waist, scaled and leathery. His wings clamped to his back, feathery and leathery.

Quackity nodded, "Absolutely! Karl nearly slipped on it as we made our way out."

"Nice," George said with a smirk, his fangs exposed for a brief moment.

"Think it'll happen again?" Wilbur asked between another drag of smoke, another exhalation of the gray haze he was so used too.

"I hope so," Quackity answered with, as he pulled himself up into a proper sitting position.

The sound of another door opening, all three turned to where the light spilled into the room. A golden glow casting an intimidating shadow of the prince who was once in the crowd as he stepped in, he had to duck a bit. Wilbur smirked a bit, grounding out the bud of his smoke in the ashtray as Sapnap waltzed over. When they were face to face Wilbur had to look up, the demon had at least a foot of height on the human. Both George and Quackity inched away from where the two stood up, attempting to take their leave subtly.

"Hi," Wilbur began.

"Hi," Sapnap answered with.

"How much did you hack up just to meet me in person?" Wilbur asked, shooting for the kill.

"More than you want to know," Sapnap asked, already reaching for Wilbur again, this time the dancer showed no sign of retaliation, "I've wanted this for so long," A purr was on his voice.

Wilbur smirked as he brought hands to rest at Sapnaps waist, "Really? You've only started coming here two months ago," He grinned at the pause in Sapnaps reaction.

Sapnap pulled away, "I'm the son of Pride and Wrath, you don't think I have my ways to go unnoticed?" As if on cue he shifted to a different form, a haze of magenta overtaking his form before he came out again as human. Black hair, short and ruffled, white outfit, orange highlights, and a white headband that helped to hide stubs of horns.

Wilbur quirked a brow, "Oh? So you take after your mother and all her prideful deceit I see?"

Sapnap brought his hands to rest at Wilburs waist, despite the human exterior his body temperature was far too high to pass physically. He smirked and his teeth were too sharp, "That's what they all say, but I know you've seen this face in the crowd before."

"Obviously, you're one of our best customers, I bet your parents would be pleased to know this is where you spend your money," Wilbur taunted and teased, swaying his form just a bit.

"Shut up man," Sapnap spat back and Wilbur gave a laugh, a singular one.

"If you say so, now, I take it you want to rail me like this?" Wilbur asked, trailing his hands up Sapnaps sides, from hip to rib, taking a moment to grip his waist (for a demons it was awfully grabbable).

Sapnap shook his head, "I'd rather use the real form to fuck your brains out," Wilbur gave a hum.

"Alright, but you better go through with that," Wilbur said dropping onto the couch, one knee hitched and the other laid flat.

The magenta haze came over Sapnap once again, he reappeared charred and almost scaled, his demon side showing through far too strong. He found himself on top of Wilbur in moments, although the trapeze artist showed no sign of fear underneath someone much, much larger than himself. It dug under Sapnaps skin a little bit, he's a demon prince for fucks sake, he should be begging for it, pleased to be railed by royalty.

But it doesn't look like he is.

"Well?" Wilbur asked, almost impatiently, Sapnaps hesitance was a shock.

"What if I hurt you?" Sapnap muttered quietly, he hadn't exactly thought much about the mortality of humans until one he liked was under him. They were just humans up until this instant, they would join the droves of sinners soon enough. But killing one in the middle of sex? He didn't really like how that sounded.

Wilbur scoffed, "There's so many enchantments on this place to prevent anyone from getting hurt you wouldn't believe it. Techno can't have humans dying in his establishment, or getting hurt, he'd lose so many customers if they could," He raised his hands above his head, "Now, you wanted to fuck me, right?"

Sapnap took Wilburs wrists in one hand and pushing down, the stretch didn't sting him, "Promise?"

"I'd already be dead, humans don't last long upon being touched by demon royalty if at all," Wilbur said, he raised his thigh to press at Sapnaps crotch, grinding against the fabric with a practiced skill to his motions.

Sapnap has to bite his tongue to refrain from keening, "Good point, but if it hurts you'll tell me to stop," It's an order that Wilbur scoffs at.

"I can handle a bit of pain," He grinds his thigh into Sapnaps bulge yet again, and catches the slight twitch in the demon.

"Alright," There's a bit of a smirk on Sapnaps face as he speaks.

He pushes Wilburs hands back a little bit further as a clawed hand comes to trail down Wilburs chest. The silky, almost synthetic fabric squeezes Wilbur and Sapnap can easily feel how tightly it clings to the humans skin. He brings a hand back to the dip of the collar in Wilburs dress and arches a claw, hooking it into the fabric and pulling. The fabric gives easily, fraying and curling away from the clean cut down the center of it, Sapnaps touch leaves a trail of heat that Wilbur arches into. The room is warm, but it's a static warm, not like the fire the demons touch gives, that's alive, it's active and moving and feels right.

Sapnap digs his blunted claws into Wilburs wrists and the dancer gives a moan, he's still smirking at the way Sapnap reacts. He takes the pointed heel of his shoe and drags it along the inseam of Sapnaps pants. His silent way of asking to pick up the pace as Sapnap tears the fabric in two. One person has made it into the lounge before and he wasn't this into torturing Wilbur with slow actions.

Sapnap dares to give a chuckle as the final inches of fabric are torn and pushed to the side, "You wear panties?"

Wilburs face burns bright red, "For the job, you wouldn't want to fuck a slut wearing boxers would you?" He gives a meek sound as Sapnap slides a finger between the edge of the fabric and his skin. He's fucked with his coworkers before, he's done it on stage at that, but this is different and he can't tell why.

"Kinda cute, little bit girly, ain't it, doll," Sapnap said, tone demeaning in mere seconds as he ran his hands along the strained fabric.

"Shut your fucking mouth," Wilbur snarled out and Sapnap chuckled.

"Try and make me, doll," He speaks on an exhale of magenta smoke that's simply intoxicating, Wilbur swears it makes him drowsy.

Wilbur sees a glint of ferocity in his eyes for a second and he remembers that he's fucking a demon, not just some stuck up human he can put in their place. Wilbur goes silent at the threat as Sapnap tears open the thin fabric, he really could've pushed it to the side instead but he's a demon prince, what's Wilbur supposed to do? Well, internally expect something a bit rougher considering he's half Wrath for fucks sake. He lowers his heel from the inseam of the demon princes pants and groans in faint pleasure when he feels a hand grip his hip, this time the smirk on his face is subdued.

The couch creaks as Sapnap drops to his knees, bring both legs onto the weight of the furniture and lifting his torso a little straight from it's previous awkward hunch. Wilbur feels so very, very small underneath Sapnap, almost a little bit intimidated. Sapnap pulls off his shirt, and where the skin turns to demonic characteristics Wilbur can see glowing stripes cracking the charred skin. He swallows audibly because maybe this is turning him on a lot more than he expected. Sapnap smirks as he tosses aside the fabric, it tore on his horns a little bit, that magenta fog coils around them.

"Like what ya see doll?" Sapnap asked cockily, another cloud of smoke descends onto Wilbur and diffuses into the gray haze of the room.

Wilbur nodded, "Yeah."

Sapnap laughed a bit, a sound almost booming. He grinned, all of his fangs on display as his hands reached to the hem of his black jeans. He pops a button off just for show, he really didn't have to, but he can't help it. Why not put on a bit of bravado, he is the son of Wrath and Pride isn't he? He doesn't act his role nearly as often as he should, Lust raised him for fucks sake, he really should partake in more debauchery. He tears down his pants, claws tear into the fabric and his whip like tail is curled around his thigh- it uncoils in a second and ties around Wilburs thigh instead.

Wilbur moans at the squeeze on his thigh, the barbed tip digging in right beside the base of his cock. He swears his vision is doubling over until it refocuses on Sapnap, Wilbur still feels small, but now he feels intimidated. He's fucked demons before, he's fucked a phantom hybrid before, but he's never fucked royalty before- and he supposes the blue of Sapnaps blood plays into the ridges on his cock. At least it isn't spiky, he's met a few people that have spiky dicks, it wasn't fun getting railed by them

"Scared?" Sapnap asked as he leaned in closer, he still had to crane himself awkwardly to whisper into Wilburs ear. He could feel the human shudder at the closeness.

Wilbur nodded, then shook his head, "Give me a reason princie," He rolled his hips to the best of his ability given the grip Sapnap had on him.

The demon gave a rumbling purr, almost a deep laugh, he let his forked tongue flicker from between his lips. His grip on Wilburs hip, thigh, and wrists tightened to the point it may bruise, leaving pretty purple marks. Wilbur keened as he waited for any form of movement, any sign that they'll get to the meat of the sex. He bucks his hips again, he lets his hitched knee go limp, the heel of his shoe nearly poked a hole into the upholstery. Sapnap easily lifts Wilburs pelvis, tail unhooking and hooking itself back onto Wilburs thigh, this time able to stroke his cock just a bit.

Ragged moans hit Wilbur, "Please," He barely gets it out on a pant at the rough textures despite the soothing methods of touch, Sapnap quirked a brow.

"Please what doll?" Sapnap asked, unhinging his tail entirely. Wilbur moaned at the sudden lack of contact, he needed it. Sapnap ran his hand along his tail, an aphrodisiac like substance gathered at the top at the press of a gland. His cock was still left untouched entirely, he can't bring himself to break Wilbur by going in dry, "Be a good pet and use your words."

"Fuck me," Wilburs practically begging at this point, his tone is too controlled for it to be seen as such. He can hold back the torrent of begging which also helps his image, "You said you were going to, didn't you?" He's smirking an almost devilish grin, but as soon as the smug look forms Sapnap plunges his tail into the trapeze artists ass and Wilbur can't help the yelp.

Sure, Sapnaps tail is barely three inches thick at it's base, it's the length and the way it coils that's the kicker. The aphrodisiac seeping into Wilburs insides is also odd and new, alongside the heat that Sapnap gives off. He thought that it was intense from the outside, but from the inside? It feels like someone is funneling fire into him, the tip is a little bit sharp, but Sapnap is diligent not to drag it along the edge though. Maybe if Wilbur was someone Sapnap hadn't craved for what feels like years at this point he'd be willing to tear into him to a terrifying degree.

He tears his tail out of Wilbur and the dancer yelps at the sudden chill washing over him. Sapnap releases Wilburs hip and slides a finger past his rim, absolutely zero resistance to the intrusion. He smirks as he grabs Wilburs hips, dropping his wrists, one of the trapeze artists hands shoots to grip Sapnaps horn, the other lays limp. Sapnap bites his tongue to hold back the groan of pleasure at the pressure put on his horn, but Wilbur smirked, he caught the slight twitch. He rubbed his thumb along the indents of Sapnaps horn and the demon gave a quieted moan.

"Did I find your weak spot?" Wilbur managed to tease with a lazy smirk, but it quickly dissolved when Sapnap pushed him down onto his cock. The trapeze artist moaned wantonly even though there was still more to go, the texture of the ridges against his innards was way more pleasurable than it should've been. The total lack of resistance his body has is also a shock, he could've sworn he wasn't used to this.

Sapnap nearly growls, he really should've paid his way into the lounge years ago, back when Wilbur first started. He grabs the fabric that's hanging off of Wilbur and tears it off a little bit more, it's catching on his legs. He throws shreds of red to the side, he'll pay Techno for Wilburs outfit sometime later. Then he hoists Wilbur off of him before thrusting back in, the grip on his horn doesn't stop, "Might wanna hold onto something doll- you've done good so far."

Wilbur nodded, half awake, half asleep, "Alright master," His voice is almost slurred as he grips the fabric of the couch, the hand on Sapnaps horn loosen to grip the back of the couch instead.

"Master?" Sapnap asked, Wilbur opened his mouth to answer the question but Sapnap spoke first, "Don't answer that, just do it again doll," He pulled out and thrust back again, a hand on the couch to brace his balance, the other still on Wilburs pelvis.

Wilbur moaned again, the scrape against his rim was smooth, the friction was minimal, it should've been so much more. Even with a human it was less fluid than this, but he didn't mind the fact it was like this. The press of the ridges against his insides was interesting, his mind was a bit too foggy to do full depth comparisons aside from the fact he loved this. He feels half here, half somewhere else, the heat building up in his stomach is like magma. It's oozing into the end of each of his nerves and he can't help but stutter out moans of sheer pleasure.

Sapnaps snarls are keeping Wilbur grounded in reality, it's not something you hear from humans during sex all that often. The demons claws dig into it him so much it's nearly puncturing skin, but the enchants Techno put on the place prevent it. Wilbur tries to shove aside even the faintest thought of his boss, the boar isn't an ideal thing to think about while fucking.

"Doll, you're on the pill right?" Sapnap asked, he felt stupid for asking- they were both guys! But, demon royalty goes by different rules than most other species.

"Enchantments," Was all Wilbur spoke in response, he made sure to place some of his own on top of the mandated ones.

"Right," Sapnap got out in response, his tail wraps around Wilburs thigh again. The trapeze artists groans as the prehensile appendage wraps around his cock, pumping him with ease. That same aphrodisiac that lined Wilburs inside spread along his length, it was almost tingly.

Wilbur was caught off guard at the sudden roughness of Sapnap yanking him back down till they were flush against each other. Heat poured into Wilbur with a throaty growl from Sapnap, the wave was the last thing to push Wilbur to the brink. Wilbur gave a moan as he came, ropes of white splattered the demons torso. Sapnap gave a smirk as he wiped away a splotch of spunk and licked it off of his thumb, Wilbur watched and he felt a shudder run through him as Sapnaps forked tongue slips out for a second.

"You taste rather fine doll," Was all Sapnap said as he released his grasp on Wilbur who fell back onto the couch, he was, to put simply, wrecked.

Wilbur gave a hum of acknowledgement.

"Did I break you?" Sapnap asked, Wilbur shook his head.

"Nope, I just need a break for a minute," Wilbur said as he forced himself into a slouching position, he reached for the drink Quackity left behind, "You got your moneys worth right?"

Sapnap nodded, "Absolutely."

"Cool, do you want more than your moneys worth princie?" Wilbur asked, taking a swig of the drink, it buzzed him a little bit.

Sapnap felt a tingle of a burn come to his face, "You look a bit too worn out for that," A nervous chuckle is on his voice.

"That's why I need a break idiot," Wilbur said, a winded laugh escaped him as he crossed one leg over the other. He still wore his heels, he reached down to undo them.

"And how long would a break take, cause I'll be hard again way before you will," Sapnap explained, "Lust lineage and all that."

"I thought you were Wrath and Prides kid," Wilbur said, Sapnap nodded.

"To an extent, Lust played a big part in raising me though, and I think she fucked Pride while I was ya know, developing," Sapnap said, Wilburs eyes widened as he took that in, "It's confusing."

"Yeah no shit, I just wanna try and give you a blowjob princie," Wilbur said with a smirk on his face.

"That'll be fun to see," Sapnap said as he yanked his tail back to wrap around his thigh, waiting patiently for Wilbur to recover, "Want some help?"

Wilbur shrugged as he turned to Sapnap, "Go for it."

Sapnap took a deep breath before exhaling, a fog of magenta smoke filled the room. Wilbur inhaled much more of it than before, and in an instant he felt awake again.

"Okay, what the fuck?" There's a nervous laugh on his voice at how fast he feels aroused again.

"Like I said, Lust played a large role in raising me, it rubbed off on me doll," Sapnap explained, he took another deep breath, this time he didn't let the magenta haze escape, "Now, ready to try and suck it?"

Wilbur nodded as he made his way over to Sapnap, "Oh yeah."

Chapter Text

Sapnap was shivering, he was so cold, so very, very cold and soaked to the bone. He didn't expect to be destitute and living in the janitors closet of a high school he didn't go to. He was just a hybrid, he was just part cat, it ran in the family, but dad still kicked him out. He's only seventeen, he doesn't deserve this, to be so broken and skittish, if he had grabbed his phone on the way out he could call the cops on his ass.

He heaved shaky breaths to try and get some form of circulation going on, going out to try and scavenge during a rain storm wasn't exactly wise. But he didn't have any food, and the lunch lady who fed him behind everyones back thinking he was a student got fired just last week. He risked it, and it wasn't worth it at that. He wasted time, energy, and body heat trying to get a single piece of food that wasn't guaranteed.

He shook himself down, taking off his drenched jacket and hanging it on the handle of a mop. He tried to angle it so the drips would land in the bucket, not the fabric scraps he had stolen from the lost and found every other week. He was shuddering, trying to warm up, he pressed himself to the door, warmth from the hallway seeping in just barely.

He jumped back at the sound of the door handle twisting open, he barely avoided crashing into something, but the sound of his boots hitting the floor was most likely far too loud for stealth. His ears swiveled to the door, his tail shot up and the hair on the back of his neck stood straight up. He listened to the way the door handle was released, then footsteps backing away and a murmur of speech.

Sapnap pushed himself further into the back of the closet when the door slowly creaked open, light filtering in, someones form cast a shadow and Sapnap felt so weak. They took a step in and closed the door behind them, they sat down in the darkness, their heart was racing. They were playing with fire and they knew it, Sapnap could see them- him, it was probably a guy, so clearly in the darkness.

"Hi," He said quietly, another deep breath, "Are you new here?"

Sapnap shook his head, "No."

"Then how come you're hiding out in the janitors closet?" He asked, a bit of a laugh was on his voice.

"Reasons," Sapnap answered with.

"Can I turn on the light?" He asked, handing reaching for the light switch.

"Sure," Sapnap said, closing his eyes, despite that the room was blinding bright in mere seconds.

He opened his eyes, blinking a couple times, and the guy in front of him was full human. But, he still looked so nice, kind of cute at that, soft around the edges, he couldn't hurt a fly. Short brown hair, eyes Sapnap could lose himself in, lithe form (easy to pick up). Sapnap simply stared, so did the guy he was sitting across from, his eyes were trained on the fluffy ears and tail Sapnap was sporting.

"Were you kicked out?" He asked quietly, Sapnap tensed up.

He sighed, whats the point of lying. He'll be living in this closet either way, "Yeah, I'm-" he swallowed audibly, "I'm Sapnap."

"I'm George," He gave a soft smile as he spoke, "You can come live with me when I move out if you want."

"I'm seventeen man, I can live just fine by myself," Sapnap said, he curled his tail around his waist, George quirked a brow, gesturing to the small room they were sitting in, "Good point."

"I'm nineteen- I know, I should be out of high school by now but math is a bitch and ma wants straight A's and keeps holding me back," George explained, almost sheepishly, "As soon as I'm out of her house you could come live with me."

Sapnap was hesitant to answer, "I'd just drag you down."

"That's fine, I'd rather be dragged down then have you living in the janitors closet. Last time some kid tried to do this the principal broke their wrist, that principal is gone now but if they find you they will send you to an orphanage," George said, fear shot straight to the pit of Sapnaps stomach.

"But I'm seventeen," His voice was quieter now, George nodded.

"Won't stop them, you'll be there for a year then kicked to the curb, you won't really have anywhere to go after that man; it's just an offer, but I'll come back to check when it happens," George said before standing up, Sapnap nodded, "If I have leftovers after lunch I'm dropping by."

"Okay," Sapnap sounded a little bit skittish as he stood up, the grip his tail had around his waist tightened a little bit, "I know we just met and all but, I'm kind of a hugger," A nervous laugh is on his voice.

George spreads his arms, "I would never dare turn down a hug from a hybrid man, ya'll are so fucking cool."

Sapnap hesitantly walked over, he gave a meow like sound when George pulled him in for a hug. But he gladly reciprocated the touch after a second, warmth seeped into him.

Then the school bell rung and George pulled back with a smile, "See ya in a bit man, I'll save some scraps- potatoes or meat?"

"Meat," Sapnap answered with, George gave a nod.

"Cool, cool, I'll be back," George said before leaving.

"Yeah," Sapnap said quietly, sinking back to the floor as soon as the door was closed.

Sapnap lay on his bed, keening loudly, of course he hadn't taken his heat represents soon enough for them to work. His body was on fire and all he could do was hope that they would kick in before George got back home. For the years they've lived together this is the first time he hasn't taken heat represents soon enough to stop it before it begins. He should've seen the signs, he must've been too busy being smitten with George to notice-

Oh.

That's why he was being so smitten with George, so intimate and cuddly, he was getting closer to his heat. It's happened before, but he's just never been so up and in Georges space previous times, a wave of shame washes over him. As soon as his heat represents kick in he's saying sorry, he'll never recovering from the realization of the fact that's what was up. He groaned in agitation as he ground his pelvis into the pillow held awkwardly between his legs, one of Georges hoodies is what he's clutching onto.

He takes a deep inhale of the scent, it's home, it's comfort, it's retreat and solace. When they met in that closet three years ago Sapnap didn't expect to find himself rutting against a pillow and trying to get off to Georges scent. But here he is, doing exactly that and begging that George has to stay late at work today to save his eyes from the absolutely pitiful sight.

Sapnap whines and keens as rolls his hips into the friction, his pants are soaked, his dignity is in shreds. His mind is hazy and he just wants to get railed so badly he doesn't care who does it. He wouldn't mind getting fucked by Wilbur at this point! He'd even take Dream if he had too, anything to make this murky purgatory end as soon as possible.

He pulls himself up from his hunched position and licks his lips, his tongue is grating against his dry and cracked skin. He winces a little bit at the sensation before standing up, he has to use the wall as a support and it hurts his ego a little bit. He's done such a good job of being everything he's put into place that's him despite the last piece of his identities puzzle being missing. He'll be fine, just a week of this torture, the drugs'll kick in and he'll live despite how much his body is screaming at him to get knocked up.

He forces the door of his room open and light filtering in through the sliding doors hits him way too hard, he hisses a little bit as he tries to cover his eyes. He stumbles over to the kitchen, craving for hydration overpowering his sense bombardment. Everywhere in this apartment he smells George, it mingles with his own scent but he can barely pick up his own in the flurry. He picks up faint hints of when their friends visited but otherwise it's all George that he's smelling on the air.

He picks up the smallest trace of Dream on the air, the musk that the Ender Dragon hybrid carried every day of every week is suddenly pungent and potent. He finds Wilburs scent coming across a lot stronger, the musk is weaker, but the sweetness is mind melting at that. He latches onto Quackitys scent like a vice, it reeks of alcohol, but it's heady and he could drown in it if he was there in person.

And then Georges scent, he couldn't find words to describe it even if he tried to. His hands shake as he grabs a glass and turns on the tap, his body quakes because he needs to get out of the kitchen and back to his room. Where it's mostly his scent, where the only traces of Georges scent is from when they decided they could be more than friends for a night. That might make it worse, but it's better than the cacophony of smells he's being hit with right now.

He tilts his head back as he chugs, he nearly chokes and when he coughs his tail unwinds from his middle. The sudden lack of pressure is agony, his body is on fire that was the regulator, that was what prevented relatively cool arm from lapping at his burning skin. He moans out, hand instinctively shooting to grip at his abdomen. He places down the cup, it's still half full, and rushes back to his room so he can try to ignore everything.

On they way over though, he can't stop himself from halting at the bathroom door. He staggers in and grabs the first garment off the top of the dirty laundry that's Georges, work shirt, it smells to much like everything else than George. The second garment he grabs is a T shirt, plain black, a couple stains, a home shirt. He pulls it up to his face and takes a deep inhale, its George, that's the only scent he can pick up. He gives a trill as he takes another drag of the scent, his ears twitch a little bit as he makes his way back to his room. His balance is a little bit staggering as he walks, his knees are weak, but he'll survive even with the slick dripping down his thighs.

Then he hears his phone ring, he left it on his bedside table. He flops down on his bed, placing the black shirt expertly among the midst of his other fabrics. He clicks answer and puts it on speaker, his entire body burns to much to put that much thought into it. He can't help but let hands sneak down past the hem of his pants as George begins to talk.

"Hey Sapnap the boss is making me stay late today," George said over the phone, Sapnap could hear the sound of footsteps in the background.

Sapnap makes a noise as if an excuse of saying 'okay,' but its pitch is awry. He only realizes it sounds like a moan too late to do anything.

"Are you feeling alright kitten?" George asked, voice soft all of a sudden.

"Y-Yeah, just hot out," Sapnap said.

"It's barely seventeen degrees out," George said, a bit of worry clouded his voice, "I'm talking with the boss real quick- I'll be back in a couple minutes, or or a couple hours hours."

"I'm fine," Sapnap whined, again, his pitch didn't help his ability to lie his way out of this.

"See ya in a bit!" George said before hanging up leaving Sapnap alone in the darkness of the room.

Sapnap groaned as he brought his hands to cover his face, he was beyond screwed, there was no in hell he could get off fast enough to at least partially clear his head. Still, he finds himself trying, one hand down his pants the other at his chest; his top surgery jar is still only half full. He considers himself lucky considering how many would consider him flat if he was a gal. He's seen people break themselves over it, he's only built himself up over it (it's still made him feel ill with himself). Despite the size, the touch is still just as searing, just as reactionary, like someone flicking a light switch.

But with his heat, it's more like someone pulling a trigger, he even finds them to be more sensitive than usual. That might just be the heat talking, if he rode a roller coaster right now he would orgasm on the way up and then the way down. His fingers skillfully slide along his slit, dipping where he knows it'll affect him the most and avoiding the null spots. Although, when in heat his null spots become good spots, and his good spots become sheer ecstasy spots. It's insane how much of an effect it has on him, how quickly it turns his sensitivity up to ten.

Maybe if his mind was less foggy this would be easier, he's sure the ruts that Dream and Wilbur have are nothing compared to this. No amount of textbook biology could ever prepare anyone for a heat cycle, especially not after they've been on the pill for most of their life. He keens as he squeezes his chest, grounding the heel of his palm against his nipple as he waits to climax. He dips a second finger in, sliding back and forth, dragging the pad of his finger in the hopes to prolong stimulation.

He rolls his hips against his hand to no avail, groping his chest harder, now a sense of panic flood his motions. The clock is ticking, and knowing George he might be running a red light or two just to make sure Sapnaps okay. It's endearing really, and he would feel flattered if it weren't for the fact he was practically trying to win a world record in getting off mere seconds before the roommate arrives. He keened and whined, it felt like nothing was working, he had already tried using a dildo but that hadn't worked either.

Then he hears the door open, and shut, he snaps his mouth shut at that. His hands are still in his pants though, he swears he's so close. The one on his chest shoots up to cover his mouth, his ears swivel to his bedroom door, listening to the footsteps grow ever closer. He catches the way they pause for a moment, the way Georges footing falters. There's a gentle knock on the door before the Brit speaks.

"Can I come in?" His voice is soft as he speaks, even through the door.

Sapnap hesitates, "Sure," He shuffles himself around a little bit as George nudges open the door.

Light filters in, leaving Sapnaps form framed in the glow as George stares. He slowly steps further in, taking all the time in the world. The fur on Sapnaps tail bristles, the hair on his neck raises but it's less out of fear of being hurt and more of being kicked out.

The Brit takes a seat on the edge of the bed, "Are you in heat bro?"

Sapnap nodded, "Yeah."

"And you didn't think to ask me for some help?" George asked, a bit of a chuckle on his voice.

"I thought you would turn me down," Sapnap explained, the rutting against his hand had stopped near entirely, only subtle movements now.

"I would never kitten," George said, turning to face Sapnap fully, "Wow this is really doing a number on you, now, wanna hand?"

Sapnap nodded as George traversed the mess of fabrics to pin his friend, bodies parallel to each other, George on top and Sapnap below. Even though George tried to keep their faces lined up Sapnap was still painfully aware of the fact that he was smaller than George. He was a cat hybrid so he knew he would grow up to be short, but right now, it almost felt a little bit demeaning. He watched the smirk on Georges face grow as the Brit brought one hand to slide up Sapnaps shirt, practically searching for scar marks.

When he found none he quirked a brow, "Still haven't gotten surgery kitten?"

"Shit's pricy," Sapnap answered with, his voice was a little bit breathy.

"Fair enough," George said as he squeezed gently, "I'm still disappointed in you though."

Fear mixed with pleasure shot through Sapnaps groggy mind, "You are?"

George gave a hum, what it signaled was beyond Sapnap, "Definitely," He slid his hand down to Sapnaps partially undone belt, "You know I'd do anything for you, right?"

Sapnap whimpered a bit as George slid the belt from the loops that held it firmly in place, he nodded at Georges question. His eyes only left Georges for a second, greeted with the sight of the Brit raising his knee to grind against Sapnaps crotch. Sapnap gave a bit of a moan, claws detracting and digging into whatever was closest.

"Yet you still didn't tell me," George said, "I expected better of you kitten," He brings a hand from it's position of balance support to trail along Sapnaps jaw, "But, I don't mind, can't blame you either- you'll sit tight and let me treat you right, won't you kitten?"

Sapnap nodded again, this time a little faster, he felt tense as George tilted his jaw a bit. His breathing picked up as he stared at George.

"Now, be a good boy- shit, that's a dog thing," George said, giving a nervous chuckle at his slip up, "Just be good for me kitten."

"Okay," Sapnap got out breathlessly.

George slid a hand down his throat and to his side, giving a teasing squeeze at his waist. Sapnap squeaked at that, he squirmed just a little bit as Georges hand edged ever closer to the aching heat between his thighs. He whimpered as the cooling touch slid between his legs, only to lift again. He had to refrain from reaching out to grip Georges hand and force it against his slit because he needed anything to hump against so badly. Anything to get even a second of friction, something brand new he's never had before and that's George without a shadow of a doubt.

George tries to swiftly undo the zipper of his jeans without shifting around too much, but he struggles with it a bit, even more so with actually shoving down his pants. Still, he prevails with the minor task, the hand he'd like to us to be mapping out Sapnaps form stuck as support. He gives a small groan of annoyance but it quickly fades out when Sapnap digs his claws into the fabric of the bed, desperation laces his actions as he rubs his thighs against each other.

He keens as he stares up at George, "Just finger fuck me man."

Georges grin falters for a second, "Have patience kitten."

"I've had patience since I was eighteen!" Sapnap snapped at George, baring his fangs, "I've wanted this for so long, please, hurry up! Just do something," Sapnaps voice borders on a moan, a plea of desperation, begging for anything.

George paused for a moment, "Alright," A soft chuckle laces his voice as he kicks off his jeans, "How do you want it kitten?"

"Dick goes in and stays in," Sapnap practically snarled, a smug look on his face despite his current state. Pinned underneath George, someone larger and stronger than him he caught the flash of hesitation, "Unless you're too pussy to make it count the one time it matters; cause trust me, I won't forget my heat represents next time."

George gave a hum as he pushed himself up to almost be sitting, he looked down at Sapnap, "Are you asking me to breed you kitten?" He grasped Sapnaps hips as he spoke, "Cause I can if you'll stick with me."

"You couldn't pay me to leave," Sapnap answered with as George pulled him a little closer, Sapnap gladly obliged. He ended up propping himself on his elbows, "Swear it."

George smirked a bit, he raised one hand to rest at the base of Sapnap back and lift him up a bit. Sapnap followed the motions until he was practically in Georges lap, thighs cushioning the Brits cock. George slid his hands down Sapnap once more, relishing in the faint curvature of his friends form, he rested at Sapnaps hips.

"Last chance to say no," George said, dragging out the syllable as he shifted their forms just a bit.

"Do it," Was all Sapnap said, he still bit his lip at the penetration, how bad was he at visually gauging sizes? (Maybe his thighs weren't the perfect comparison either with how much he liked to say they were small)

George loosened his grip on Sapnaps hips and slid up to his waist, giving way to raise his partners form, Sapnap gladly cued in. When he dropped back down he moaned out, caught off guard at the sensation, it didn't stop him from doing it again. His hands migrated to Georges back as he repeated the motion, claws poised to gouge but only clutching onto the fabric tightly. He whimpered a bit as he moved, he wouldn't consider himself a virgin, he's sucked dick plenty of times- he's just never been on this end of the pleasure.

He can't help but be a bit mad at himself for shoving this away until now.

He rests his head on Georges shoulder, "Bite me."

"Could you speak up kitten?" George asked carefully, straining his voice to try and suppress the cracks of pleasure seeping into it.

"Bite me," Sapnap speaks on a whine, he doesn't move next time their hips are flush against each other. He pulls back his head and tilts it to the side, "Right here."

George pauses, "Why?" He grips Sapnaps waist a little tighter, trying to get friction. Sapnap wraps his legs around Georges middle, squeezing so tight he couldn't move much than an inch.

"If you're gonna breed me then mate me while you're at it," Sapnap said, seemingly agitated at how unversed George was in hybrid tradition.

George gives a hum, leaning his head so his teeth are running along Sapnaps throat. The hybrid shudders and his fur stands on end as George trails along his collar bones, shoulders and neck, resting at the crux between them. He bites down gently and Sapnap keens as he squirms, his claws dig into Georges back a little bit and he moans as the bite deepens. Orgasm tears through his form in an instant at the mounting pressure, only when it starts to break skin does his body convulse. He slumps against George a bit, he's distantly aware that his friend hasn't gotten anything out of this yet, but he's a bit too worn at the sudden release to care.

George only pulls away when he's confident it'll last long enough, leave a purple mark that'll fade to red bite marks, "Happy?" George asked.

Sapnap nodded against his shoulder.

"Good, now hold still," George said as he pressed Sapnap into the bed again, bending Sapnaps knees so he gets full aim. He tries to keep himself securely in throughout the entire motion, his pretty little kitten can't go a second without it.

He waits for Sapnap to release his grasp but he doesn't, instead it tightens as soon as George starts to move. Sapnap keens out as he clenches his eyes shut, George keeps brisking against the best spot, over and over. He couldn't hit it the same way before but now he has full display of that one minuscule patch of sensitivity, and he isn't as aware of that fact as Sapnap is. The hybrid keeps keening and moaning, a couple mewls and yowls mixed in as George chases orgasm; waves of pleasure chasing Sapnap.

When he does hit it, that sweet, sweet burst of relief, he refuses to pull out. This was it, it was happening right here right now, breeding his best friend. Well, are they gonna still be best friends once the aftermath of this encounter starts to settle in? He isn't really sure, especially not with how heavy his breathing is and how fast his heart is racing in his chest. He hangs his head low, arms shaky as he tries not to collapse on his small mate.

He returns to place loving bites and kisses along Sapnaps neck who squirms a little bit, "Too late to say I've also wanted this?"

Sapnap shook his head, "Glad to hear the feelings mutual, if it wasn't we'd be fucked nine months or so from now," He lifts his head and latches onto Georges neck.

George gives a shaky moan as Sapnaps fangs dig into him, when Sapnap pulls away he wants it again, "Totally fucked," He pulls out and simply stares at his work, "Oh yeah, you're definitely knocked up."

"What makes you so sure?" Sapnap asked, pushing himself up on his shoulders.

George gave a single swipe across the outer edge of his mates slit, picking up a large quantity of cum. Sapnap shudders at the touch before looking up to George, "This is just on the outside, imagine how much is on the inside."

"Some of its mine," Sapnap shot back with, he gave a weak laugh at Georges instant move to take a tentative lick, "Oh my god."

George falls down beside Sapnap, "So," He begins, "Now what?"

Sapnap shrugged, "This is different from giving you a handjob for sure, fuck if I know what comes next."

George nodded, "Absolutely, wanna just, lay down for a bit?"

"Sounds good to me," Sapnap rolled over to George as he spoke.

Even as Sapnap was drifting off to sleep right next to George the Brit couldn't help the anxiety dripping down his spine. He knew it was final, he knew that this meant his youth would be over, but he still wanted to believe there was a chance he failed. There was a chance he didn't quite breed Sapnap and they'd have to try this again sometime, that would be nice, breeding Sapnap again. But what fool would want to go through nine months of torture all over again because of one lusty night?

George heaved a sigh.

They'd just have to find out if it worked in the morning.

Just a test, one simple pregnancy test, they had gotten it in the morning and Sapnap felt queasy. He hadn't eaten much the day prior, it could be blamed on that instead of what George knew was really going on. He was still sitting at the counter impatiently, bouncing his knee and gripping a glass of water so tight his knuckles where whitening. He swears he could hear his heart pounding in his chest in the uneasy silence of the room.

Sapnap reopens the bathroom door, staring at the test, he looks almost mortified, the box is in another hand. He places both items down in front of George, he takes a shaky breath, "Please tell me I'm misreading it."

"Having regrets so soon kitten?" George asked cockily despite the searing fear and anticipation in his stomach, he'd make a great dad either way, he just, didn't expect it to come so soon.

"Is two lines positive, or is it not?" Sapnap asked, glancing past Georges crude attempt to lighten the mood.

The Brit looks at the box and nods, he picks up the test next, "Oh boy," Was all that he could muster in response to the sight presented in front of him, yep, that was indeed two lines.

Sapnap placed his head on top of crossed arms on the counter, "Oh boy is right."

"We'll work it out," George said hopefully, "Nothing bad is gonna happen, I got a good paying job and you've been meaning to quit yours, perfect timing."

"I guess," Sapnap said with a bit of a sigh, "But we're still just friends with benefits, imagine explaining that to anyone- friends with benefits who have kids? That doesn't happen."

"We could be more than friends," George offered gently and Sapnap lifted his head up to find not a single shred of humor in Georges eyes.

"Sounds nice," He pauses, "Mate."

Chapter Text

Dream likes to lie and tell himself George wasn't always like this.

Sadly though, that's not the case, and no matter how far back Dream traces their friendship George has always been at least a little bit of a douchebag. Specifically to woman, he wasn't a misogynist, he knew when to be nice, but if it's a one night stand? Yeah, Dream is getting just a little tired of hearing his friend degrade and slut shame from the room right beside him. But otherwise George is a doll, when he's in the right presence and mood at least, he can be the sweetest person you've ever met or the biggest asshole imaginable.

He's sort of unpredictable like that.

Dream on the other hand, he's rather predictable, so much to the point its a shock they're friends. He finds himself to be a lot more quiet than George, a little bit reserved when it comes to fucking around and finding out. Sure, he'll still go to parties and slam a couple drinks, but he won't just go find a lady and take her to the bone zone. He needs a bit of basis to work off of first and foremost, some background with whoever he's railing. He can't quite bring himself to pick a bitch off a list and fuck her like George will if he's pent up enough. He's found himself balls deep in every kind of woman you could imagine while Dream has done it… He hasn't done the deed all too much.

Dream would rather spend a day screaming into a pillow to cope with his emotions than fuck them away like George does. He'd much rather repress and tag along than come to full terms with what's been caught in his chest and weighing him down. He hates the fact he's inclined to try out Georges coping method because all else is failing and everyday it gets harder to ignore his surmounting feelings.

So what anyways!? George likes ladies! Good for him!

But Dream…

Well, that certainly sucks for Dream.

They've done it once, when Georges one night stand stood him up (Dream wonders how thats possible). And that was that, according to George there was nothing underneath it. It was just a heartless bout of sex, a blowjob that Dream gave before getting utterly plowed by George who was grinning through most of it. The morning after was just like any other morning, the only difference was that Dream had realized that was what he wanted. To be with George, even if it was just for intimacy he loved it so much, and by proxy, he loved George.

Maybe if he spoke up things would be different, George would be waking up beside Dream instead of in a different room. They'd be going on movie dates and having romantic dinners, that's just a stupid fantasy though. All because Dream didn't speak up, all he did was sip his coffee and awkwardly eat toast as George did the same. If he just said 'I think I love you' things would be so very, very different, but he didn't, and that might've been his only chance to say it.

Still, he finds himself tagging along to go to another club with George.

"Do we really have to go?" Dream asked as his friend drove them across town, he was fidgeting with a pair of bracelets on his wrists. Bright green beads with the occasional fancier one mixed in on pieces of plastic cord, simple, but he couldn't just dump his sisters hard work into the trash. She had made many bracelets for him, but he only wore two at a time so they wouldn't break or tangle as easily.

George nodded, "It'll be great Dream, trust me," He gave a reaffirming smile to his friend, "I could drop you off at GameStop and pick you up in a couple hours instead, I think an arcade is open this late."

"I'll tag along," Dream answered with, despite how endearing the notions of an arcade sounded (loud noise, bad pizza, bright carpet) he wanted to hang out with George instead.

"I really don't mind detouring to GameStop," George offered as he took a wide turn, the car gliding across pavement comfortably, "You'll probably just be sitting in a corner awkwardly anyways."

Dream shrugged, "I'd rather spend time with my bro," A nervous chuckle is on his voice.

"Suit yourself, I'm not paying for your snacks this time," George said as he slid into a parallel parking spot with a practiced ease, Dream could already hear the music.

"You're still paying to get me in?" Dream asked as he propped open the door, tugging his hoodie a little tighter over his head. Deep green hues shadowed his face in the dark street, only sparkles of neon lights let the place stay illuminated.

"Obviously," George said as he pulled out his wallet, handing Dream just enough to get in, "This is the last time though."

Dream nodded, "Alright, fine by me," He flipped through the bills as he spoke, following George to the door.

It was loud inside, but that was expected, and as soon as they were in the crowd, George was gone. He simply vanished from Dreams line of sight, probably off at a couch chatting someone up. Dream gave a bit of a sigh as he drifted opposite of further in, finding a window to sit by. He's aware that George could take anywhere between an instant and an eternity to get on with it and take them home, so he'll just be sitting around instead.

He let himself glance around, eyes landing on George before he averted them again.

"Really?" George purred as he ran a hand up someones thigh, "You haven't had a man treat you right before?"

She nodded, "Y-Yeah," She sounded nervous but eager at the notions of Georges touch.

He leaned in closer to her, "I wouldn't mind showing you the ropes," He felt her shudder at the words.

They continued to banter and laugh, drinks where shared between them well after George had tangled her up in his web. He couldn't just get her drunk and fuck her, it wasn't nearly half as fun as an elaborate web of deceit. But soon enough all good things come to an end, and this good thing came to an end when a past date sat down beside him. She clearly scared off the dame George was trying to seduce and he turned to glare at her.

His malice faded, "Marisa, I thought you were in jail."

She scoffed, "For a fuckboy I'm shocked you remember my name."

"I try," George said, feeling uncomfortable, "I thought you hated me, shocked you even managed to come over here at all-"

"Shut your whore mouth!" Marisa snapped at George, a painted nail pressed to his chest, he gave a nervous chuckle.

"Alright, alright," George said as he inched away, "But did you really have to drop by and ruin my game?"

Marisa sighed, "They weren't kidding when they called you a vixen George," A salacious laugh is on her voice, "You're a man yet you're twice as sleazy as some of the women I've met."

George gave a smirk despite the knot forming in his stomach, did he drink too much? He only had two shots, "I take that as a compliment," His expression is smug no matter how you look at it.

"You need to learn how to change George," Marisa said with a soft sigh as she grabbed the stem of Georges drink, on command the fluid flickered to clear and then the neon hue the dye caused, "Like how dye changes colors."

"Awfully cryptic," George said with an almost nervous chuckle, he was feeling hot now, a terrible sensation in a stuffy bar.

"You'll go from blue to magenta in no time," Marisa stood up as she spoke, "Karmas a cryptic bitch, have fun dealing with her consequence- who knows, maybe she'll give you an easy way out."

And then she's fading back into the crowd leaving George confused and feeling physically wrong. He just, he feels tight, like his skin is one size too small around his chest. Between his legs, he can't really describe what exactly he's feeling but it most certainly is not normal. And his head, it's normal, but given everything else he's most certainly sure it won't be- especially with the sudden tightness around his thighs.

He has to use the back of the lounge to prop himself upright on his feet and he's making his way through the crowd to find Dream. His eyes are opened wide as he scans for familiar green hues, searching desperately for an out. He could just leave without his best friend, but who is he to leave a socially inept gamer stranded in a club? He may be a bit of a dick sometimes but he's not that much of an asshole, besides, Dream would kick him out anyways.

Another surge of wrong hits him as he stumbles to the window he finds Dream sitting at. This time it's his chest, the fabric of his shirt far too tight, he involuntarily leans forward. He's quick to recalibrate, stiffen his spine as he takes the final steps and taps Dream on the shoulder. His friend gives a prompt hum of acknowledgement as he turns around to meet George. The panic and fear the Brit has on full display give Dream a hearty dose of concern.

"What's wrong?" Dream asked, placing his hands on Georges shoulders.

"I don't know," Was all George could bring himself to answer with, a brief wave of constriction hits his abdomen, "We need to leave."

"Agreed," Dream said as he reached down to grab Georges hand and get him out, "Think you can drive?"

George shook his head, "No," He opened the door to the backseat.

"This'll end great," Dream muttered under his breath as he glanced at the shift stick, "This thing is manual right?"

"Yeah," George answered with as he did up his seat belt, the car lurched as soon as it was done revving to life, Dream already getting out.

"Cool, hold on tight," Dream answered with as he drove down the road, taking broad turns as he did so. He was far too focused on Georges state and oncoming traffic to focus on the color of the lights. It was late night though, no one else was around who was gonna throw him in jail for blowing red lights?

"Dream…" George whined out, arms crossed over his aching chest, the fabric was too small and he needed it off. But he couldn't just, take off his shirt, he still had to get out of the car, the neighbors might be out at home.

"Yeah bro?" Dream asked as he searched the glovebox of the passenger seat. His eyes were still on the road but he was sure he could handle diverting his focus.

George gave a soft moan, pressing his thighs together (where his pants always this tight?), "I think a doctor might be in order."

"And I think we don't have enough money on hand, so let's go home, check what's up, and then consider seeing a doctor," Dream explained in an almost exasperated tone as he held out a bottle of water, "Water?"

George took the bottle and cracked it open eagerly, "Thanks," The fluid was lukewarm but it was still water, and felt amazing trickling down his heated body.

"Hey bro," Dream began, glancing up to the rear view mirror, tilting it so his eyes could land on George, "It'll be fine, I'm sure it'll be over as soon as it starts."

George nodded as he lowered his arms, "Hopefully," He ground his thighs together a bit, and normally it would be against his better judgement, but this time he likes the sensation.

"Okay, so, we're heading inside, assessing your condition, grabbing some cash and heading to the emerge," Dream said, George nodded as they pulled into the driveway.

George propped open the door and stepped out, and he absolutely hated how weak his knees were. The heat pooling between his legs spread through his core, he felt molten, the cool night air was doing nothing to help him. He nearly moaned, he was quick to bite his tongue to try and stifle it, arms crossed over his chest. He took a step and he swears he can hear the thread of his too tight pants straining (stupid skinny jeans), he takes another step and he's never been this close to begging that his clothing doesn't tear in his life.

Dream waits patiently for him at the hood of the car, his eyes rake over his friends form with little hesitance. For some reason the sight of Georges form filling out is just a little bit more arousing than expected. The way the fabric smooths and shifts over his legs, the hem of his friends shirt raising at the upper tension, was Georges midriff always perfectly smoothed like that? Dream couldn't help the way he thickly swallowed at the sight, blood shooting through him at a faster pace than before.

George stumbles over and leans into Dream, he has to actively beat down the sound bubbling up in his throat. His breathing is a little bit heavier than before, and his thighs are dampening, "Carry me."

"What?" Dream asked tentatively, shock coated his voice, George glared up at him.

"Carry me inside so my pants don't tear, I like this pair," George snarled at Dream, his voice sounded higher than before, he caught it too, "Well?"

Dream gave a hasty nod before hoisting his friend into a carry, one arm at his back the other his knees. He paused momentarily to just stare from above, he was definitely looking at George, but a much womanly George. The curve of his ass, the weight distribution, the chest that strains an overly tight shirt. Red slowly rises to Dreams face as he brings in George whose curling into his friend, ashamed of letting anyone see what he's turning into.

Dream nudges open the door with his hip, shutting it with the bottom of his foot and placing down George on the couch. Dream sits down on a cushioned chair across from the Brit who looks shook, one leg crossed over the other. He's staring at his lap, both of his hands rest on his legs, he wants to open his mouth to speak but he's afraid of what'll come out.

"You good man?" Dream asked gently.

"I don't really think man is the best word to describe me now," George said with a nervous chuckle, gesturing vaguely to his body, Dream nodded.

"Guess so, but still, you feeling alright?" Concern laces his voice as he stares at his good friend, he- no, she, yeah, she looks kinda messed up, groggy.

George shrugged, "Horny I guess, I was gonna get it on but that failed miserably," She smirks a bit at the way Dreams face turns red at the bluntness.

"Makes sense," Dream said, he was having a hard time forming more than that, "You forgot your vibrator in your room when we fucked, I could go get it for you, let you do your thing while I play some Minecraft."

George shook her head, then nodded, "Up to you, although considering how much you stare I take it you want me?"

Dream is rendered speechless, George gives a laugh at that.

"C'mon, you couldn't be any less subtle, you just stare at me, all the time, it's pretty obvious you've been wanting to fuck me," George said, humor on her voice as she spoke, "I guess it's only fair I give you a second chance considering how much you loved it the last time."

"So, let me get this straight," Dream said, "You have someone cuss you out, we head home cause you're getting all feminine, the entire meal deal," He can't believe he actually said that out loud, but here he is, "And now you're asking me, to fuck you?"

George nodded, "Is that really so hard to understand? I don't wanna try and dildo myself to climax when I'm sure you could do much better," She gives a bit of a sigh and uncrosses her legs. There is no gap with how much they've filled out and the threads are being stretched just a bit. A properly done inseam has never felt more uncomfortable in Georges life, but that's fine, she'll be out of them in no time anyways.

Dream swallows thickly, "Okay then, how, how do you wanna do this? It's been a while since I've done the deed," He stands up and walks to sit down beside George.

George shifts her hand to tap Dreams thigh and gives a little nod, Dream places his hand where she tapped. She slides her hand on top of his and places it on her thigh, closer to where it meets with the hip then on his thigh. He doesn't move his hand, only stares, paralyzed at the interaction, how plush Georges thigh is also isn't doing him any favors in terms of coming down from this sudden rush of spontaneity.

George gives a sigh of agitation as she tugs Dreams hand to her belt, "Undo it, I know you've had sex at least once before."

Dream nods hastily before doing as told, the boner he's sporting being pressed uncomfortably to his jeans isn't helping his focus. Every shift of movement is friction, he's biting his tongue even though it's not enough to make him moan. The way the compression of the waistband to Georges thighs is visible as she shoves them off might be enough to make him moan. Even with tits pressed to the fabric of her shirt, it's most definitely George with the way she looks at Dream expectantly.

"I did the first part," She takes a seat on the couch, facing Dream, one leg splayed over the edge, the other a hitched knee. Somehow the red on Dreams face deepens at the angle, the way fabric slides up, "You do the next part before I change my mind and leave."

There's a snarl on Georges voice, and Dream nods as he brings a hand to rest on the exposed skin of her thigh. It's burning hot, Dream feels like ice in comparison, it's a little bit uncanny- but he slides his hand further up the expanse of smoothness. His fingers dip underneath the hem of her boxers, he wants to retract them, but he doesn't. The urge to wuss out and leave George high and dry is a lot less strong than a second chance to wake up tomorrow morning and say what's been on his chest. He only falters when he reaches the crux of where thighs meet, when George moans, a high pitched sound Dream never expected to hear.

He takes a shaky breath as he slides a digit along the slit, it's wet, and he expected as much. But he didn't expect it to be this slick, like someone poured oil across the expanse, inside and out. He easily slips in a slicked digit and George moans again, it's a bit louder, a bit headier. Her jaw hangs open a little bit, she was pretty sure she never had this effect on her own lovers, was Dream that good? Or was it just the transformation?

She's far too fogged up to care, she lifts her head to meet Dreams gaze, "Take your hand," Dream goes to remove his hand from her boxes but she's quick to snap his wrist in her hand, a bit of fear is on her face, "Your free hand, and put it here," She gestures to her chest.

"Right," Dream answered with quietly as he deftly slid a hand under the taut fabric of Georges shirt, the skill taking the Brit by surprise. She moaned out the second pressure was placed on her breast, her back arched into the touch a little bit. Confusion was on her face, that alongside a hint of ecstasy as she tried to beat down her moans for one second to speak.

"How the fuck are you so good at this?" George asked, speaking between pants and on a cracking voice, Dream merely smirked.

He leaned in till his head was close to resting beside hers, "Luck of the draw," He flicked along her clit, "I would say practice makes perfect, but that would be a lie."

"I could've sworn you've only done it like, four times," George groaned out, annoyance on her voice.

"More than that, I'm just a bit pickier than you are," He ghosts his teeth along Georges neck and she shudders, "Picky enough to choose someone like you."

George rolls her hips into the crescendo of Dreams touch, she swears she's close, "Oh fuck me."

"I think I already am," Dream answered with, the cockiness on his voice a stark contrast to the timidity he displayed not too long ago.

Georges hands fly to the waistband of her boxers, shuffling them off awkwardly, rearranging her legs and (reluctantly) pushing away Dreams hand. There it is again, the confidence fade on Dream at the sight, the realization, "Fully fuck me, I've wondered what it's like to be on the receiving end for a while anyways."

"You sure bro?" Dream asked hesitantly.

"Aw, what happened to the confidence you were sporting five seconds ago Dream? Where did it go? I quite liked it," George said, keeping the degrading in her tone low, she didn't want to sound like too much of an ass mere seconds from getting it.

Dream brings his hands to rest at the button of his jeans, "I'm not scared," He's bluffing, "Just wanna make sure," The button comes undone as easily the zipper unzips and the fabric slides down his legs.

George scoffs, "I've sucked you off, barely gagged, I can handle a little stretch," Dream shrugs as he pulls off his boxers, "Definitely a bit of a stretch."

Dream nearly laughs, his hands come to rest at Georges waist, "Scared?"

"Fuck me and we'll find out," George answered with, the fog in her brain coming up extra strong. She gives a little yelp as Dream tugs her over until he's lined up with the entrance, he falters his motions.

"You're really sure about this? Like, you won't regret it in the morning?" Dream asked again, George nodded rapidly, "Okay then," He slowly slid himself into George, adjusting his friend as he went.

George bit her lip as Dream bottomed out, forcing down a hiss of pleasure because was she really that bad at guessing measurements? Apparently she was, Dream waited a moment before moving, waiting for a sign to keep going. She gives a little nod and then he's moving, a soft back and forth motion, more of a grinding if anything, "Can't you go faster than that?"

Dreams grip on her waist tightens just a bit as he pulls out, only halfway, and then slams back in. She goes cross eyed as it brisks her G-spot, "I could, but it's a shame I know where your buttons are and how to press them- you talk about it too much, I listen you know."

Georges eyes widen, then narrow, but her glare is quickly cut short when Dream hits it again, this time harder. More of a drive is behind the motion, what with Dream yanking down George to where their hips meet. Her nails dig into the couch and her mind is fuzzy, might as well be seeing stars, "Fuck you."

"Try it," As he speaks he lowers his hand down to press the tip of his thumb to Georges clit, he doesn't move it away. George keens as she squirms at the sensation, waiting for friction, waiting for movement. It's all she needs to have it go off, the final match in a pool of gasoline and she'd climax.

She moans and keens, Dream doesn't slow his pace, waiting patiently despite how much he's wanted some form of this. Some form of intimacy with George, he's wanted it for so long, he'll at least try and savor it. Although, even though his own climax is chasing him, he'll run from it faster. He knows George is mere seconds away from wailing out what he wants to hear, he just has to wait.

Georges jaw is stuck open, drool pools at the corners of her lips and tears of pleasure prickle her eyes, "Dream," It's a whine, long and needy.

Dream flicks across Georges clit and she screams as it washes over her all at once. The slight contraction and one last thrust and Dream has given up running, he let's himself join George in pleasure. He has enough dignity to refrain from screaming, only a throaty shuddering groan of pleasure rocks him. They stay like that silent, then George opens her mouth to speak, Dream instantly pulls back at her voice.

"I'm," She pauses to take a heavy breath, "I'm taking a shower, then I'm going to sleep, you should too," Her gait is a little shaky as she makes her way to the bathroom.

"Alright," Dream answered with quietly, taking the opposite direction to the stairwell, he'd use the downstairs bathroom for once.

The world around him seemed fuzzy, sort of melty at that, he was too focused on what just happened to focus very hard on the world. Not much more thought than where his feet landed was put into his actions until he was underneath the cold stream of shower water. He just, that didn't really happen did it? He's gonna wake up with a boner any second now and curse his stupid brain for letting him dream up a storm about that.

Still, he wraps a towel around his waist and heads back upstairs, he grabs his previously discarded boxers and slips them back on despite the stain of pre. He leaves the towel on the couch, tomorrow morning, if the towel is there, this really happened then, if not, his brain is cruel. He nudges open his bedroom door, it's already ajar, and goes to turn on the light, but he comes to a complete stop.

Of course, of course George is already peacefully asleep in his bed, wearing naught but tacky pajama pants and a tank top. Dream takes a shaky breath as he crawls into bed beside his friend, he gets not much more of a reaction than a shift in her position. He's hesitant to even pull a blanket up, but he does so anyways, a warmth blossoms in his chest when she curls into him.

The next morning is cruel.

He wakes up alone in bed and much to his chagrin he's alone again, he heaves a heavy sigh as he pulls himself from the mattress. He pulls on a hoodie, dull green, he doesn't bother taking off his boxers. His footsteps are weighed down by disappoint as he walks through the living room, he catches the towel but it doesn't register in his mind.

He finds George sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of coffee, one is across from him. It's probably for Dream, that shocks the latter a little bit. He takes a seat and brings the rim of the mug to his lips, it's sweet, a splash of cream, not perfect, but close enough. When he places down the mug again he opens his mouth to speak and yet again hesitance stops him. George waits patiently despite that, staring at Dream, edge of the glass pressed to his lips to hide his face.

"I think I love you," Dream spat out quietly, his voice gives way to a small crack.

George scoffed, "How long did it take you to figure that out?"

Dream pauses, "Uhm, when we started living together I guess."

"Right, and how long have you wanted to say it?" George asked, quirking a brow as he lowered his mug entirely, hands still wrapped around it.

"Is 'I thought you were straight so I said nothing' a viable time frame? Cause if not a more accurate one would be since the blowjob, I thought it was a fluke," Dream explained, red peppered his face as he spoke, George shrugged.

"Well, I wouldn't mind properly confirming if it was a fluke, I'd say last night didn't count cause of my bodies state," George said, he glanced down at his coffee as he spoke to avoid Dreams gaze.

"Really?" A tinge of hope is on Dream voice, George nodded.

"Yeah, really," George answered with, nervousness blanketed his voice as he spoke, although subtle in nature.

"So, I guess we're friends with benefits now," Dream said, George nearly choked.

"It only happened twice!" Red splays across the Brits face and Dream gives a chuckle.

"That is more than once, a plural," Dream chides in a bit of a singsong.

"Fine, we're friends with benefits until later notice, although I prefer the term lovers," George said, Dreams heart skips a beat at the notions of lovers instead of friends with benefits.

Chapter Text

Dream gave a groan of annoyance as he put on his sunhat, wide brimmed and increasingly obnoxious. He slipped on gardening gloves as well, something to protect his skin from the setting sun. As much as he hated going outside even with a little bit of sun, the prison didn't exactly allow him a whole lot of time to get food. Maybe if he was allowed to drain a couple cows he wouldn't mind, only pigs remain and he can't quite bring himself to drink one.

He makes his way past the doors and heads into the courtyard, garden beds sporting a couple kinds of food lay outside. He has access to potatoes, beets, carrots and sweet berries- every now and then he'll be given an apple for a reminder of the outside worlds taste. But what he has is good enough, even without having anyone come to visit him so far, he still has the color red. A terrible substitute for blood, but it works for short periods of time, and he'll just have to hold out until someone drops by.

He gives a hiss of pain as the gardening glove tears open on the spikes of the berry bushes. His blood flows freely, a rich crimson hue that stands out against the green of the glove. He really wishes his blood wasn't spilling out of himself though, it doesn't exactly help him stay alive or mentally well to lose his own blood. And he's sure he only has a limited supply, the red hues he can drink up do little to help him resupply it. He tears a couple berries from the bush and brings them to his fangs, puncturing and slurping the red from them entirely, leaving them sickly tones of yellow and gray.

He heaves a sigh of relief as the substitute enters his body, the small wound on his hand closing up slowly which really isn't a good sign. He's barely been here a month and his healing is already slowing down, his wounds left open for more time. He drains another berry before heading over to the beet garden bed, he easily uproots a couple. He doesn't even bother to wash them off as he drains them, the taste of dirt in his mouth can be ignored with the sheer amount of red he's consuming. He continues in that fashion but despite that his stomach is empty, only blood fills that pit, the color just acts a shitty nutrition supplement.

Dream looks to the sky and finds the moon is already on its way to the precipice, he gives a small sigh as he starts on his way back in. But then he stops, suddenly and rapidly at the sound of a squeal, loud and high pitched. He's at the pig pen in an instant to find a spider feeding on a baby pig, even though he shouldn't go in, he does. He throws off the spider with ease, shattering it's legs and stomping on it until it bursts with green goo. He shudders at the sight, his feet covered in a slimy substance that he despises the feel of; but he doesn't quite care, his attention back to the pig.

It's dead, still bleeding, the scent burns Dreams nostrils as he takes a seat beside it. He really wasn't gonna eat a pig, or a chicken, or any animal, only humans, but he has a dead one right here in front of him. He knows he'll be blamed for the death and sworn off from the gardens, only brought in simple foods if he does bite it. But he can't help himself, it's free game if it's already thoroughly dead on the ground.

The body is light when he brings it to his mouth, his fangs line up with the spider bite and he dines. The bloody taste is perfect in every essence of the word, and as much as he'd like to savor it, he moves swiftly. He tears a chunk out of it's throat, the bloody meat goes down swiftly and he nearly moans at the flavor as more spills into his mouth. He drops the body as soon as he's almost done, the pink hue only faded slightly, he stands up and wipes the specks from his face before turning to leave.

Who knows when he'll get another chance like that to stock up on the good stuff.

As he walks back to the door he grabs a handful of sweet berries, the thorns tear his hand and before even a teaspoon of blood can escape the wound it's already patched over. That's the pig blood having effect, a hearty dose at that, his skin looks a little bit less thin, a little bit more colorful. Still, a wave of guilt washes over him as he eats the berries, the tangy flavor is delectable and he hadn't had it in so long, mostly focusing on the hues instead. He can't believe he just did that, drain a dead pig in it's entirety, a baby pig at that- but it was killed before he snagged it.

He can't be that mad at himself though, it was for survival, he couldn't be sure of how long he'd survive if he hadn't eaten it. That spider dropped in and killed the pig for survival, but Dream still tried to save the useless entity anyways. And when he couldn't, he lowered himself to a mindless bug, ate it without a second doubt. He feels almost ill with himself, he was inflicted with vampirism, he should be better than this. Yet he still drained a pig, a dead pig that he hadn't killed, like some sort of vulture, and sustains himself off of the color red instead of breaking out and killing a human like a real vampire would.

He heaves a sigh as he opens the door to his cell, finding a small woven basket with two apples in it and a note. He let's the door close behind him and he takes a seat, grabbing the note and reading it.

thanks for not trying to escape a lot! :) - Sam

Dream gives a hum of amusement as he grabs an apple, bringing it too his fangs and draining the red hue in mere seconds. The purest red he can attain in this prison aside from pigs blood and spider eyes apparently. One of the few things he can drain but still enjoy the flesh of, he only takes the color, the insides are a near white hue. It crunches as he takes a bite, a sweet flavor flooding him faster than the berries. He guesses he's not getting an apple next time they're handed out because he got two now.

---

Dream stares at the camera in his cell from his bed. Sam didn't initially want to give Dream the pleasure of having it in his room, but after some begging he got what he wanted. His eyes are trained on the blinking red dot indicating it's working, it swivels back and forth just a bit. In another corner of the room is a second camera, most likely to prevent him from finding a blind spot as easily. He's aware that blind spots still litter his cell, but who is he to sabotage a camera, he just knows that the creeper hybrid would not be pleased to come in to fix one.

But, Sam is technically a human, almost in his entirety does his blood reek of human richness. Or maybe Dreams memory is waxing poetic, he's just hungry, starving even. It's been three months since the pig incident and he hasn't lucked out again, he's pretty sure the cams didn't catch him draining it, or if they did Sam doesn't care enough to come make a big deal out of it. Again, Sam, a hybrid for sure, but he smells so delicious, the blood pulsing under his skin tainted with gunpowder but still rich like a humans blood. Dream hasn't tasted it before, but he doesn't mind the notions of getting a single drop in his bloodstream, he'd feel great if he did.

That might just be the fog in his mind acting up again though, he hasn't gotten any blood in a while, not even a pigs. He supposes that the spiders have learned their lesson, they haven't dared to come near the pen since he stomped one to death. And he just, he can't kill one of them for himself, he's fine being a vulture if it means keeping his hands clean of grimy blood. The colors haven't been doing much more for him then keep him alive either, red can only keep him satiated for so long. He needs the real deal as soon as possible, the occasional apple is just barely keeping him from keeling over and trying to keep him full but failing.

He looks back up at the cameras again, he'll get penalties if he does break them, but Sam will drop by. Fresh blood will drop by, a meal, he doesn't even need to drain him entirely, just a cup of blood and his mind will be in sorts again. He draws himself up from his bed, he feels only a little bit sluggish as he walks over to the corner that the camera is in. Too high up for him to reach, he has to drag over his bed to stand on to reach it.

His hands grasp the cord, blunted claws play at plastic coated copper cords until they're cut. The sparks litter his skin and burn a bit, leaving small blisters that don't heal at all. Dream gives a small hiss of pain as he tears the cords further, more sparks hit him as he guts the machine. He removes mechanism after mechanism, and his hands hurt due to how fine some of them are, he leaves only a metal shell. He steps back to find that the red light has ceased entirely, he's doing this for his own good.

Although, depending on how long Sam takes Dream may not even remember the plan if his brain is too fogged up. But that's fine, either way he' sure, he'll be able to get at least one bite, one drop of blood. Then he'll be satiated, then he'll be able to explain what's going on, that he needs blood. He'll even drink from a drip bag that go on IVs if it means taking blood, but he just needs the blood inside of someones veins. And Sam is the only person he knows how to get the attention of, even if it means potentially getting penalized heavily for what he's doing now.

He turns to face the other camera, it's still blinking red, still swiveling back and forth gently to catch every angle of the room. Dream feels weak, but he still hauls his bed over to the corner with the other camera and grabs it as well. Instead of tactfully gutting it, he simply shatters the lens with a well placed two finger jab. Glass shards cut open his skin and he hisses as blood spills out, he wraps his shirt around them as he drops down to sit on his bed. A mix of blisters and cuts on his good hand isn't exactly the best place for him to be at the moment, but that's fine. He'll be perfectly fine, he just has to hold out until Sam inevitably has to come and fix the surveillance system.

---

"What the fuck?!" Was what Sam exclaimed as he glanced over the monitors for the prison.

Some of them where busted, a lot of them were busted actually, it's just, he wasn't used to this many being broken. He knew that sometimes the wires would short out and he'd have to go and fix them up sooner than later. But he's never dealt with six of them being broken at once before, that's just a bit more than he'd like to be busted up.

He hastily tapped the screen on each one, the monitor could be the problem. The monitor was not the problem, in fact, one of them was bluescreening entirely which was really worrying for Sam. That was the main one for Dreams cell, the other one was full of cracks and part of the screen just black. He hesitantly grabbed the mouse and clicked on the blacked out monitors, scrolling back the replay until he caught the moment they broke.

Whatever broke them was good at it, coming in from the underside where the camera itself wouldn't be able to catch footage. It was like that for every single camera he checked, all of them stealthily dismantled and without so much as a sound he could trace on the audio. He gave a groan of annoyance as he banged his head on the desk, clawed hands coming to run through scruffy hair, a second set of arms hung at his sides absently.

"Fuck," Sam spoke on an exhale as he lifted himself back up, a fog of gray tinted smoke filled the air, it always did. Not because he was a smoker, that was Wilbur, more or less because that's how he kept himself from exploding. Letting out all the smoke before it could build up, exhaling the gunpowder tinted smog before he would explode.

He clicked on the final monitor left, the one in Dreams cell, and started to rewind the footage. It was all pretty pedestrian stuff, whatever a prisoner can get up to in this prison is what he got up too. Sam was tempted to just go fix up the cameras, don't even bother confirming that Dream did it, but then it got interesting. The glasses shattering point, and everything before it, that's when he leaned in a little closer, lower arms bracing on his desk.

Dream, dragging his bed across the floor, climbing onto it, and then skillfully removing the innards of a security camera like he's done it hundreds of times. It's impressive really, how he managed to do so while only removing one panel of metal and leaving just the outside intact. Maybe if Dream wasn't Sams biggest nightmare in prison he could be properly impressed, but he is and Sam is less then pleased to see how easily his things have been dismantled.

He slowly stands up and pushes away from his desk with his feet, the swivel chair easily slides away but his claws left divots in the wood of the desk. He gave a groan of annoyance as he stood up, he rubbed his temples as he tried to sooth his frayed nerves. He didn't even need to watch the footage to confirm it was Dream, he could've went on his gut and he would be right, what a waste of time. He's quick to make his way out the door and straight to the prison, he's just fixing the cameras and leaving, he doesn't need to do anything else.

He feels a deep seated heat in his chest, his inhales are short and his exhales are long. Deep plumes of smoke crowd the air as he tries to keep the pressure down, his fangs are bared and claws detracted. What little fur is blotched across his skin is on end, bristled, his agitation is showing more then he'd like. He ducks a bit as he weaves through the hallways and doorways of his house, up until he ends up where there's a bucket of water.

He dunks his arm in and it instantly soothes the burn on his skin and in his muscles. He simply takes the bucket with him as he leaves, occasionally taking sips to try and dampen the ignition trying to fire in his chest. He's sure he's getting weird looks as he starts on his trek to the prison, but he'd rather get weird looks then risk some bones shattering or his lungs popping. He only throws aside the water bucket when it's empty, he could still go for a second one. But the hiccuping coughs and wheezes of smoke have died down enough to prevent him from desiring to stick his head in a lake and drown out the combustion.

-/-/-

Dream feels sorta gooey, like his brain is melting on the inside, filled with oozing caramel. Maybe it's sweat, but he hasn't really drank enough of anything to be that sweaty. Maybe he's horny, that happened last time he went sober on blood for this long, a fail safe of sorts to get someone in bed and under his fangs.

He hasn't moved an inch from his bed in days, he isn't quite sure if his legs are strong enough for that. All he knows is that his thighs are slick, and that is a blow to his ego, he can't believe he's blood sober and getting horny in prison. But, that's life, he would suppose if he could think on much more than trying to prevent himself from breaking open the glass and drinking the red from the lava. It isn't even red, it's just orange, but it's a hue close enough to red to keep him from dying a miserable death for a vampire.

His mouth hangs open, eyes lidded, he feels so sticky. So very, very hot in his cell, a small pile of apples rest at the door, he doesn't have the energy to go eat one. His eyes are stuck to the ceiling until he hears the door slide open, heavy footsteps came before it, and a heady scent follows. He's quick to snap into a sitting position, staring at Sam as he enters the cell, he's going off about something but the words pass by Dream entirely.

All he can focus on now is that sweet, sweet scent he carried into the room, coursing under his skin. It's just, it's rich, and heady, an iron heavy richness laced with gunpowder. He's never drunk a creeper dry before, and he's never drunk a creeper hybrid before either, he always thought they smelt like they'd taste bad. But now, now all he can focus on is how fucking good the smell of blood is on the back of his tongue. It's all he wants and he swears his core throbs as desperation washes over him as he stares, Sam looks over and he asks something, but Dream doesn't listen.

Instead he pounces.

And he lands, fangs sink into Sams upper arm and for a second the warden is too shocked to throw off Dream as blood is torn from his veins. Although as soon as he does get the reigns of his motions in control again he's quick to throw down Dream, two bubbles of blood form on his arm as the same substance drip from the corner of Dreams mouth. The vampires pupils are blown open only a little bit, breathing effectively calm, almost excited.

"Dude, what the fuck?" Was what Sam asked, trying to keep down the aggression, a set of arms held down Dreams elbows, the others his waist, he kept his knees on either side of Dreams thighs.

Dream took a deep breath, gathering his words, "I'm thirsty man," He let his mouth hang open, his fangs revealed and Sam took note, "I haven't had a sip in months, sorta outta my mind thirsty right now."

"Oh! Right, yeah, I forgot about that," A nervous chuckle is on his voice as he speaks, he lifts his arms up from Dreams elbow, then his waist and finally shifts to sit beside Dream. He holds out one of his lower arms hesitantly, "If you don't get wired and kill me you can have some."

Dream nods rapidly as he sits up, latching his mouth onto Sams forearm, fangs digging in. He couldn't really find a major vein though, they were buried in muscle instead of on top which was really annoying. Veins were supposed to pop out of muscle, not hide in them, must be creeper genetics kicking in- that also accounts for the height difference. Dream is too out of mind to care though, he just knows that he loves this sensation of blood in his body again.

It's not enough though, he unhooks his teeth and probes around for a larger vein, he can almost hear the pulse. He just can't find a better vein on Sams arm and he's tried every angle, he wouldn't dare touch the wrist though, it's too easy to suck all the blood from the hand. He trails his hands up Sams arm, slowly inching ever closer and Sam is hesitant to watch the blood seep from his body- he can feel it just fine. He gives a yelp when Dreams fangs sink into his neck, and then when arms wrap between his two sets of arms.

He almost goes to shove off Dream, but the pace of blood being drained from his body is slow, a calm pace. And the frenzy Dream initially showed seems to be going down at that, so he lets the vampire stay like that. It's kind of nice to be held, even if only an attempt to keep him held down while Dream feeds. He waits patiently for Dream to finish, his heart is racing though, and maybe that helps Dream drink easier with the blood pumping faster. He brings his hands to wrap around Dreams waist, just in case he needs to push him off. He's drinking really slow, and calming down as he goes, no need for alarm at that, but, when the faintest starting signs of going lightheaded drop in that's when Sam decides enough is enough.

Sam slowly, and he cannot stress enough how slowly he's moving, nudges Dream off of him. His breathing is heavy and his eyes are closed and he's on cloud nine, he swears he's never felt this good in his life. His veins are full of blood again, his skin coming to be a slightly rosy hue, and his brain is still just as gooey but at least he can decipher what kind of gooey. And it's the ooze that's horny, the slickness of his thighs returns ten fold (although it never left), and he's almost giggling. Is this what being drunk is like? Sam doesn't drink though, he's gotten drunk off of blood before instead of drinking the alcohol straight, but this is slightly different. Drunk with no booze in his bloodstream, it's a really nice feeling aside from the throb in his core.

He leans back from Sam, staring up at the hybrid lazily with glossy eyes and a sleepy smirk and Sam recognizes that look. Red shoots to his face at that, Dream gives a small laugh at the reaction before speaking, "Sam."

"Y-Yeah?" Sam asked hesitantly as he glanced back at Dream, he held his hands in his lap.

Dream nudged aside Sams hands and crawled onto his lap a bit, "Fuck me."

Sam swallowed audibly, "Ha, bro, I said I'd let you if you didn't get wired man," He was nervous, but it was less about the prospect of fucking Dream and more about popping a boner on his back. He didn't really have fuck his number one priority prisoner on his list of things to do, but his ability to say no to a voice like that matched with those eyes is crumbling.

Dream gave a laugh, "Is being horny really the same as being wired?" He reached his hands to wrap one around Sams neck, although he fell short instead resting on his chest. He can't help but give a small squeeze, Sam was built like a brick hut, but the amount of give his pecs had was contradictory to that. He caught the slight twitch in Sams composure at that and he did it again, "Well Sam, do you want this, cause I do."

Sam doesn't answer right away, he's sure that by now Dream can feel the pressure against his back. He's sure that Dream is just being polite and not mentioning it, he could just leave the vampire to deal with it by himself. But, this is probably his only chance at fucking a vampire, let alone Dream, a feared vampire- it's a miracle if anything, and who is he to deny what fate has chosen? He takes a steadying breath, "Yeah, sure, sounds good."

"Perfect," Before Sam can even take in the word Dream is already scrambling to press his cracked lips against the hybrids, Sam shows no resistance to the move, instead bringing a hand to the small of Dreams back and another to hem of his pants. Dream is smirking when he pulls back, leaning his lithe form on Sams hand. He grinds his knee against the bulge in Sams pants and he keens, "How excited did I get you just by looking at you?"

Sam doesn't answer, bringing a hand to Dreams inner thigh, pressing at the damp fabric. He tries to return the smirk, "I could ask you the same," Dream laughs a bit, he doesn't even expect it.

"Doll, that's what happens when I go sober," His voice is held on a bit of a slur, "My body starts the fail safe which is sex, so I can get blood. Don't worry though, I already feel satiated, just a bit woozy," He grins again, pressing his knee against Sams cock once more, Sam whines a bit.

"Wanna take this to the bed?" Sam asked, gesturing vaguely to the bed in the background and he could've sworn the sheets were red at the beginning of Dreams prison sentence.

Dream gives a shrug, "Whatever floats your boat Sam."

He's taken aback when Sam actually lifts him up, with an understandable amount of ease considering his stature. He simply looks at Sam, the size difference is unbelievable. Dream is at least two feet shorter than Sam, and he's a lot less broad in the shoulders at that, his hips are the only thing that come moderately close to Sams and even at that it's still off by multiple inches. Dream feels rather small, but it's a nice sense of feeling small, he fits into Sams arms perfectly. And Sam feels large, he always feels large even when he isn't holding someone small, but this is one of the few times it's given him a sense of control. It isn't a perfect sense of control, but it's close to that as he drops Dream down on the bed and the vampire keens out, hastily searching for the waistband of his own pants and trying to get them off.

Sam drops down at the foot of the bed, he takes a steadying breath, he looms over Dream easily. Excitement plays out on the vampires face as he whines, if anticipation could kill he would be dead a hundred times over. He kicks off his pants a little bit as he tugs them down alongside his boxers, Sam drops down another level. His lower hands are at Dreams waist, their faces are almost parallel, he brings a blunted claw to Dreams inner thigh. The vampire keens out at the touch along his slicked skin, he even arches his back just a bit as that same claw inches ever closer to his slit. Sam flicks the arch of his claw against Dreams engorged clit (erring ever closer to almost enough for a full surgery) and pleasure shoots throughout all of his form.

"Fuck..." It comes out on an exhale, "Do that again, the doctors did not say that would happen after some testosterone."

"Doctors never say shit when they put people on a new drug," Sam answered with in a murmured tone as he did it again, this time Dream convulsed a bit, "Say, how long were you on the shit before you got thrown into jail?"

Dream shrugged, "A week, two, I didn't have a whole lot though," He rolled his hips into Sams touch, "Going without is nothing new."

"I'll get you back on the stuff later," Sam said, it was a promise, but Dream didn't register it as such given their current situation. He grinned a bit as he did it again, Dream shuddered, he reached around to latch onto Sams back, he dug his nails into the shirt.

Dream gave a hum of acknowledgement at the sentiment as he grounds his hips into the touch even more. His mouth hangs open in a silent moan, he nudges his knee against Sams crotch once more and the hybrid gives a small groan at the touch. Still, he refrains, he could break Dream if he went too far, but, would that really be too bad? He's a prisoner, a little bit of torture is expected, sure, it'd be unorthodox, but it'd still get the job done. Or maybe it won't, and this is just his weird way of justifying fucking Dream in full.

Sam gives another groan, one hand grasping at his pecs and a knee firmly ground against the bulge in his pants, "Dream, Dream you're not large enough to take it man."

Dreams smirk only grows larger, "Is that a challenge?" He presses his knee harder into Sams cock and the hybrid moans, Dream doesn't care, he squeezes a little tighter at his jailers pecs, "Cause I'll gladly take it."

Sam pauses, he brings his upper arms to rest at the head of the bed, acting as a main support for his form. He brings his lower arms to the waistband of his pants and tugs them down, they were tight on him, uncomfortably so. He refrains from sighing in relief at the sudden lack of pressure, but he catches the shock on Dreams face. He tugs down his boxers next, still watching for a reaction from Dream, he only gets a nervous and somewhat excited laugh, "Still up for it?"

Dream doesn't answer right away, instead his tongue grazes over his fangs, "Oh yeah," His voice is a little bit slurred, "What's, what's your favorite angle?"

"This is fine," Sam said, somehow a purr found its way to his voice, he brought a hand to slide under Dreams shirt. The vampire shuddered as pressure was placed on his chest, he arched himself into the touch, nails digging deeper into Sams back.

The creeper hybrid gave a deep exhale of smoke, he lifted his head a bit to prevent most of the flow from landing on Dream. Sparks of combustion teased along his lungs, but they were good this time, calm, simply stoking the flame of his lust. He grabbed Dreams waist and pulled his lithe form a little bit closer, the vampire was easily shifted, form light. He held no form of resistance as Sam rested his length along his stomach, just to get a gauge on how large it was.

Dream gave a bemused hum as he rested his hand along the tip, gliding pre across the length. Sam moaned at that, he stifled it to an extent, but not nearly enough for Dream to ignore it. He gave another stroke, this time slicking the underside, he was having a hard time believing he'd be able to take it all. But, blood crazes are one hell of a thing, he'll be fine, it's probably the creeper genetics playing into the size anyways.

"So, do just want me to stroke it, or are you gonna put it in me?" Dream asked cockily, Sam shifted his form a bit, dragging the tip down Dreams slit until it rested at the entrance.

"I'm gonna do more than put it in you," Sam said, a hint of a snarl on his voice as he wedged the head in. Dream cried out at that, it was the earliest widest part but he took it easily, his breathing shook. He waited to hear what else Sam was gonna do as he slowly slid in centimeter after centimeter of girth, "I'm breeding you," The snarl came back full force.

Dream shuddered at the notions, "Can't keep a pregnant guy in prison."

Sam pulled out after, he had reached four inches of depth the first time, when he drove back in he hit six. Dream yelped again, the pleasure overrode the pain by a long shot but it was still a shock to his system, "Won't know until it happens."

"Okay then," Dream got out just barely between pants and a sharp moan as Sam did it again, "Jesus, how fucking big are you?"

Sam gave a chuckle at that, it was low, "What makes you think I measure?"

Dream shrugged, "It would be nice to know," He gave a heady moan as Sams claws dug into him, another deep thrust, he hit deeper again.

Sam only growled as he thrust again, too busy trying to bottom out to worry about countering Dreams attempt at banter. This time his hips almost Dreams, he brought a hand to rest on the vampires stomach and thrust again. He swore he felt the slightest distend, maybe that was his mind playing tricks on him though, probably the latter. He bowed his head, snarling as he brought himself to the hilt, Dream cried out, keening when the pressure didn't go away.

His breathing was labored, "That's, that's your whole fucking cock right?"

Sam nodded, "Pretty much."

"Holy fuck, you're definitely gonna breed me," There's a hint of a laugh on Dreams voice, but he whines when Sam pulls out, only to nearly scream in pleasure when he's split open again.

Sam tries to keep a steady pace, and he tries not to break Dream either, but it's hard not to do that when he isn't sure of the vampires limits. He keeps one hand firmly pressed on Dreams chest, smoothing and grasping the small mounds. It gets a good reaction, Dreams keening and whining doubles, his nails dig deeper into Sams shirt. The creeper hybrid brings a hand to the small of Dreams back and tilts him just a little bit for a better angle, the vampire arches into the touch on his chest a little more when Sam removes it.

He brings hand to rest at Dreams hip, thumb brushing gently over his clit and he swears that short circuits something in Dreams brain. The vampire goes near silent at the combo of pleasure points, getting railed, getting groped, and having the nub be played with? Sam is most definitely sending him places he's never been before, he's seeing every type of star at once.

"Sam," Dream whines, "Sam," A little bit louder a plead for attention.

"Yeah?" Sam asked with breathlessly.

Dream whimpers a bit, "Nothing."

"Still thirsty?" Sam asked again, Dream nodded a bit, the creeper hybrid shifted where he bowed his head, giving Dream an angle of his neck, "Go for it."

Dream gladly latches on, sucking blood from a new set of puncture wounds with ease. This time Sam moans out at the sensation, it only hurts for a second, but somewhere along the lines his wires were crossed and he registers it as pleasure now. His mouth hangs open a bit, jaw stuck ajar as he pants, he takes a shaky breath before bottoming out fully.

The vampire wants to scream as his cervix is fully penetrated, it hurts for mere moments and then it just feels good again. He doesn't even catch the orgasm, it slips past his conscious at the second barrier being broken. He bites down harder on Sams neck, tearing past skin with more than his cuspids, blood pours down his throat at that. Sam gives a throaty growl at the deep bite, then Dream pulls back his head, he looks spent.

"Do it," It barely comes out in a semblance of coherence, but Sam catches it.

"What?" Sam answers with, a sense of taunting and teasing on his voice despite how much he aches for orgasm. He could realistically let go and just cum at any moment, but that would mean this would have to be over. He doesn't really want it to be over even though he initially came here to replace a camera, that can wait for tomorrow.

Dream takes shaky breaths, "Breed me," It looks like he's drooling with Sams blood dribbling down from the corner of his mouth, "Please."

Sam grins a bit before giving the final thrust, he yanks Dreams pelvis flush against his own as he climaxes. He gives a low growl mixed with a groan throughout his release, his claws dig into Dreams hips, so deep they're sure to leave bruises. His breathing is heavy, but the rise and fall of his chest is even, his eyes are closed, when he opens them he finds Dream nearly passed out. He waits a few moments before pulling out, he leans back against the wall, he's just tired at this point, he can't remember the last time he fucked that good.

Dream pulls himself up slowly, sluggishly even, his core aches alongside just about every other part of him. He crawls over to Sam and leans onto him, resting his head on the the creeper hybrids chest. An arm comes to wrap around his waist as Dream drifts off to sleeping soundly, entirely worn out. Sam can't believe that he finds himself following Dream to sleep shortly thereafter, but he does, head leaned against the glass.

---

Sam blinks his eyes open upon waking up, he yawns and brings a hand to cover his mouth. He wearily looks around the cell before he remembers what had happened the evening before. Then the events hit him like a sack of bricks to the back of the head, panic washes over him.

He glances frantically around the room for Dream, only to find the prisoner huddle up on the other side of the bed, clutching his stomach. He looks queasy, a bit of concern under his mess of blonde locks, Sam hesitantly reaches out to place a hand on his thigh. Dream glances over his shoulder and gives a weak mornin' to Sam who returns it just as quietly.

"Sorry about last night-" Sam said, Dream shushed him.

"Don't be, it was fun, I liked it," Dream answered with calmly as he sat up, "I just feel a little bit nauseous."

Sams heart dropped into the pit of his stomach, "Like, morning sickness nauseous?"

Dream shrugged, "I've never been pregnant before, don't know if this is that type of nauseous," He gave a groan as a surge of aching hit him, he clutched his stomach a little tighter. He leaned into Sam, "Could just be suddenly having blood again, that happens to humans with food, they don't eat for so long that when they do they barf it all up again."

Sam nodded, "Yeah, that's a thing that happens sometimes," He gave a groan, Dream punched him in the shoulder playfully.

"You said you were gonna breed me, and I was hella turned on at the notions, so, we're both at fault," Dream said, a hint of laughter on his voice, but it broke down again at the queasiness, "You have some real food somewhere in this prison don't you?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah, yeah we have lots of food laying around."

"Cool, could you get some?" Dream asked almost nervously, a bit of a laugh on his voice, he brushed a hand over the wounds, "You might want a potion for that."

Sam shrugged, "I'll be perfectly fine."

"No, really, you're probably low on hearts, a vampire bite is one crazy thing," Dream said, "I've heard that George lost one of his lives to a vampire bite."

Sam grins, "Right, you and him fucked and you bit him so hard he died?"

"You're gross man, we just fucked, were you getting off to the notions of me and George doing it? I'm ashamed," Dream said, humor was on his voice, he was clearly teasing.

"What?! No, never, just you," Sam said, "And honestly, you took it surprisingly well."

"I'm flattered at the compliment for taking cock like a champ," Dream said.

"We'll have to see if you can hold the title," Sam challenged gently, "Might've been a fluke."

"Then we'll fuck again tonight," Dream answered without skipping a beat, he held out a hand, "Wanna shake on it?"

Sam took Dreams hand in a firm shake, "Then it's settled, we bang at nine PM."

Dream nearly breaks out laughing, "You think you can wait until nine?"

"That depends on if you can wait, cause I'll gladly cancel my schedule if you wanna fuck," Sam said, a bit of a taunting grin on his face.

"I can totally wait until nine," Dream answered with, a brief and hesitant pause, "Maybe."

Now it's Sams turn to laugh, "I mean, what do you want to do man?"

Dream shrugged, "We could eat, that would be nice," Sam gives a nod of acknowledgement, "It'd be nice to get some tongue action, you got forked one don't you? That'd be fun to play with."

Sam stuck out his tongues, "I got two, both forked."

Dream shuddered in anticipation, a faint rosy red appeared on his face, "Super fun to play with."

"Alright, I'll eat you out when you want me to," Sam said as he stood up, Dream clung onto him, holding him down, "But I got work, just tap on the camera when you need me, I'll turn it off when I come over."

Dream nodded a bit, "Sounds like a plan to me," He reluctantly let go of Sam who fully stood up and brushed himself down.

He picked up his boxers and shuffled into them despite the obnoxious pre stain on the front, he hesitated at grabbing his pants but chose against it, "See ya!" Sam said with a bit of exuberance on his voice as he opened the doors to take his leave, Dream watched the doors close again.

Chapter Text

I really didn't want to make another authors note regarding requests so soon, but here I am despite that. No this isn't me coming in with a stone and chisel to say I'm never writing a request with Dream ever again, definitely not whats going on, he's fun to write. But, this is me saying that after you write enough porny fics with one character you find yourself wanting some variety, some spice of life if you will- so that's what this about. I just want some requests that don't include Dream, obviously I'll finish up the ones with him that I've already started before my writing style decides to do a 180 degree turn and go in a completely new direction, but I would love some more requests without him. Ya know, shit like Wilbur/George, Jschlatt/Philza, pretty much anything you want so long as Dream isn't there, I don't know if I'll make another authors note saying 'hey I'm writing for Dream again' I'll probably be writing for him again in a month anyways. So yeah, sorry to be needy like this and kind of attention whory, but sometimes people are gonna be like that, feel free to request, hope ya'll are having a good one!

Chapter Text

Fundy never really saw himself where he is now, and to be fair, he never really saw anyone else where they are now. Everything is different with Punz calling the shots, with Punz putting people in their place, with Philza being too cowardly to even try and change things. But it's also nice, for Fundy at least, nice to be someones anything, even if he is just a piece of eye candy and a sex toy.

Wilbur got a chance to say one last good bye, Wilbur also said he was ashamed of him before promptly being pulled away from his son. That shattered Fundy right then and there, he was ready to give Wilbur a chance to earn something good in this worst case scenario. And that was when Punz earned the wedding band he wears so confidently day to day. He did everything in his power to comfort Fundy, promised to let his family live, gave him time to process- and then Fundy was ready to accept reality.

He's just a trophy husband now, and he supposes that's what he was to Dream as well.

But, being Punz' trophy husband has a different feel to it no matter how he looks at things. Punz is twice as willing to do what Fundy wants, shower him in attention and small gifts alike. He's even willing to keep hunting down and bringing back Wilbur to try and reason with him once more no matter how far he tries to run. Fundy can't believe he's finding himself sprawled across Punz' lap like he's a piece of satin and liking it.

He can't believe he's finding himself thinking about the few times that Punz has decided to stop partway through the sex for one reason or another. And how he latches onto the many times he doesn't care about anything but Fundy and the moment, still pulling out each time. But he does, and he doesn't mind it either, thoughts constantly flooded with the way Punz is in bed. Even when he's sitting right beside Punz, watching his spouse sign a law, his mind is still on how expertly he can use his hands. He even finds himself getting envious at the notions alone of Punz taking another spouse even though it's never been brought up by the ruler before.

It's all rumors floating in the foxes head, bouncing around the sides of his skull as they filter in through his ears. He digs his claws in a little deeper when he thinks of having to give up any inch of Punz while they fuck. A part of him thinks it would be fun, the more the merrier and all, but the majority would fight tooth and nail to keep all of Punz to himself. He knows he realistically couldn't do a single thing if Punz decided to spice things up by bringing someone else into a curtained room, but he likes to pretend he can.

And maybe that plays into the dismay when Punz broaches a common topic during dinner.

"I've been thinking of getting a surrogate," Punz stated bluntly, Fundy nearly chokes on the soup he's sipping at thoughtfully.

"Why?" Fundy asked, he sounded sharper than he intended.

Punz broke off a piece of bread as he spoke, "It's been a year since we married, I think it's time an heir is sired," He held out the loaf to Fundy.

"We don't need a surrogate," Fundy said, reaching for the loaf of bread and breaking off a piece, "I'm right here."

"I thought you said you'd rather die than spend nine months pregnant?" Punz questioned, that made Fundy falter.

He had said that, but, that was last year, when Punz first brought it up on their honey moon. And he was decent enough to respect it, so much so that he would never dare touch Fundy during his heats. Now Fundy is caught between two choices: stuck pregnant with someone who adores him, or letting Punz breed a surrogate he'd never see again.

"The fox genes will speed it up," Fundy said, "And so long as you won't stop loving me I'll gladly do it for you Punz."

Punz almost looks offended, "I would never stop loving you Fundy."

"I know, but that's my condition," Fundy answered with, he dipped the corner of his bread into his soup before taking a bite.

Punz gave a hum, "Fair, consider it a deal, I won't stop loving you and we'll have a kid while we're at it."

There's a brief pause of silence.

"When do you wanna go for it?" Fundy asked, raising his bowl as he spoke, "I could ask around for some potions in advance, see if there's any to enhance fertility."

"I doubt that'll be needed," Punz said, "There is a reason why I always pull out dear."

"Don't be so confident," Fundy answered with, flat tongue darting out to catch the drip of soup on the edge of the bowl as he lowered it down from his mouth.

Punz quirked a brow, "Is that a challenge?"

Fundy shrugged, "We'll be fucking each other raw by the end of the week either way."

"You read my mind," Punz answered with, he reached for the empty bowl in front of Fundy, "A guest is waiting for you in the main hall by the way."

Fundy nodded a bit as he stood up, "I'll go say hi, you know where to find me afterwards," When he walks by he places a kiss to Punz cheek, it's hard to do so with his snout but he manages.

The sight of that all too familiar green outfit has Fundy paralyzed in the lobby doorway. He catches the way Dream is fiddling with his hands, the way the mask isn't on properly. The fox takes a steadying breath before stepping further into the room, he takes a seat across from Dream who perks up a bit.

"Hi," Dream begins, reaching up to tug off his mask entirely.

Fundy reaches out and pulls it down, "Don't, whatever sort of bullshit you're gonna pull with those puppy dog eyes won't work so don't even try."

Dream nodded, "Cool," His hands are resting on his pant legs again, "How is it with Punz?"

"What do you mean by that?" Fundy questioned back, framing his words defensively.

"Can he really be better than me to the point you like being his little sex toy?" Dream asked, watching Fundy's reaction intently behind the static expression of the mask.

His fur bristled as his eyes widened, ears standing straight up as his posture stiffened. He rested his hands on his lap, making sure the one with the ring was on top, "I'm not his sex toy, that's what I was to you," He crosses one leg over the other, "No need to project onto my new relationship."

"You didn't answer my question," Dream shot back, "And even at that you think that you were my sex toy because you sucked at topping, even with a strap."

A slight twitch of his ear, "I didn't have to feel like a sex doll even if you never let me top, yet you still don't get a concept so simple."

Dream rolled his eyes despite knowing Fundy couldn't see it, "You're deflecting, is he really that much better then me when it boils down to the core components?"

"Yes, he is," Fundy said, shooting the answer so fast you'd presume he had it prepared, "Now, unlike Wilbur you won't get a second chance to talk to me."

"C'mon Fundy," Dream whined, "Divorce him! We'd be perfect, living outside of his reign, just you, me, and the wildlife!"

"I married him for a reason Dream, and it was for the sake of my last life," Fundy snarled out as he stood up, ears flattening to his head, "He actually earned my love when he gave me space to process everything and let me have some control in ruling."

Dream stood up as well, "He just wants you cause you're a hot piece of ass and like it rough!"

"I hate it rough! You never bothered to ask me!" Fundy snapped, the final straw having been drawn much, much earlier in their conversation.

There was a tense silence, and Fundy watched intently as Dream clenched and unclenched his fists.

"Fundy-" Dream desperately tried to speak.

"Get out of my house," Fundy said, thrusting a paw out to point to the door, "I don't ever want to see your stupid mask again unless it's on the condolences section of the news."

Dream didn't bother to respond, doing as instructed by his ex-husband. His footsteps nearly echoed as he descended down the corridors to the final door. Fundy watched his motions the entire time, and as much as he hated it the words were sinking into his head. He couldn't shake the the thought Dream was right about he said despite knowing better logically

"Punz," Fundy began with quietly as he crawled into bed beside his husband.

"Yes dear?" Punz asked.

"How come you arranged a marriage with me?" Fundy asked, he sounded timid, scared of the potential answer.

Punz pauses for a moment, "Because I love you Fundy," He curls into the fox a bit.

"And not because I was a hot piece of ass?" Fundy asked tentatively, he watches shock form on Punz' face as he sits up.

"No, of course not," Punz stated rather bluntly, "Who said that I did?"

"Dream did," Fundy spoke it so quietly he hoped Punz didn't hear him.

"When did that green cunt get a chance to talk to you?" Punz asked, holding back the venom that so desperately tried to seep into his voice.

"After dinner yesterday," Fundy said, "I thought he would say something productive, but he tried to convince me to file a divorce even though he's aware I can't."

"I should've checked who it was," Punz said, he pressed a kiss to Fundy's forehead, "I'm so sorry he said that too you."

Fundy shook his head, "No it's fine."

Punz' expression softened, "Baby, you know how much I love you right?"

Fundy nodded, "I know."

"Good," Punz said quietly, "Did he say anything else."

"Not much," Fundy answered with, "Said I sucked at topping."

"He's a bitch boy who hates being topped Fundy," Punz said as he laid back down, "Some people aren't built to get railed, he definitely isn't one of the people who can handle it."

"Definitely," Fundy said with a nod, he rolled over to rest his head on top of his spouses chest.

Punz pauses before speaking again, "You are beautiful though."

Fundy gives a pleased hum at the compliment.

"Not to be so sudden," Punz said, he gave a nervous chuckle as he spoke, "But, do you wanna try for a kit right now?"

Fundy sits up, glancing down, he holds back a laugh, "Did talking about me topping seriously get you hard?" He slides a hand underneath the covers as he speaks, watching a red come to Punz' face.

"No," He spoke so fast it was clear he was lying, "Besides, if we're trying for a kit you can't top me."

"Good point," Fundy said, tugging the waist band of Punz' boxers down a bit as he spoke, the curvature of his claws resting against his lovers cock comfortably.

Punz squirmed under the touch before sitting up and carefully pushing Fundy down to the sheets. The fox gladly fell to the blankets and pillows below, keeping his eyes locked firmly on Punz who stood with arms at either side of his head. The ruler brought a hand to brush over Fundys chest, where twin scars kept his fur from growing back entirely. Fundy gave a muted hum at the touch against his chest, rolling himself into to it.

"You look hot as shit," Punz blurted out, instantly stilling his motions. He watched for a sigh of distaste at the choice of words, finding none he went further, "Seriously."

"You think?" Fundy asked, Punz nodded as he kicked off his boxers.

"Absolutely, every fucking inch of you," He ran a hand down Fundys side as he spoke. He let nails cut far too short breeze across the expanse of his waist, and then the curve of his hip, settling at his thigh. He grasps the foxes thigh a bit before gently nudging it to the side, "I promise I'm not just saying that cause we're married."

"Good," Fundy said, he gave a breathy pant the second a finger pressed to his engorged slit. It was puffy and sensitive with how little they fucked in the month, and how close he was to his mating cycle. Red instantly gathers at his face with how easily pleasure ran through him, although it's hard to see under the fur.

Punz gives a small hum as he hitches Fundy's legs one at a time, bringing them to rest on his lower back. He puts his hand next to Fundys mouth and without even instructing a flat tongue is running along fingers. He lowers his hand back down at the foxes entrance, sliding in a single finger and watching him squirm. He prods about like he's never done it before despite knowing Fundy inside and out from every angle possible like the back of his hand.

He gives a soft chuckle as he slides in a second finger, relishing in the near chirping sound it draws from his husband. He keeps the bridge between thumb and finger pressed against the nub that so frequently spells orgasm, "Bet Dream never looked after you like this."

Fundy gave a shaky nod, "Never."

"He doesn't know what he's missing," Punz said, he dropped down to his knees and brought a spare hand to Fundys face, he nuzzled into it contentedly with a purr. He let his ears flop down when Punz brought a finger to scratch behind them, "He'll never get a chance to find out either."

Fundy gives a yapping sound as Punz spreads his slit, he has to refrain from giving a kick of pleasure as well. He grits his fangs a bit when Punz rests his cock along it, not even penetrating, just rolling back and forth against the wetness. Clawed hands shoot out to grab at Punz' back, claws retracting as much as he could manage. He didn't want to hurt Punz, he already wore enough claw shaped scars from when Fundy couldn't keep his claws in order, he didn't need any more.

He didn't mind them though, he wore open back shirts a lot more at that after the first few went from scabs to scars. A part of Fundy wishes he had those mutual scars, one more sign that they're a thing then the silver rings they wear and never take off.

Punz took a steady breath as he rolled back his hips and lined up to Fundys entrance. He caught the way Fundys breath hitched, the small sign that he tried to keep quiet, "I know you're kind loves to be loud."

Fundy still tried to stay silent, afraid he would be too loud. He'd woken up the neighbors before Punz' reign, back when he was with Dream. After that the gag was introduced, with Punz it was like he never even considered a gag.

"And unlike Dream, you know how much I love to hear you cry out for me," Punz purred out, keeping his ears a healthy distance from Fundys maw as he gave the first thrust.

And he yowled, jaw agape as he cried out, hitting decibels Punz could never dream of achieving even with practice. It broke off into chitters and yaps, all with a potent purr underneath it when Punz started thrusting. He swears he can't breath in enough to compensate for all the sound he's making and how loud he is at that- but Punz is too caught up in the moment to mind.

Too him it just means he's doing a good job, even when claws detract and Fundy drops his hands to the sheets. Talons tear into silky soft fabric of any origin imaginable, easily rending the spread as Punz rolls into him again. It's a repetitive motion, in and out, but hands come to rest at Fundys scars, dragging blunt nails across the edge. It makes him squirm a bit, sensitive skin oh so lightly prodded and with clear loving intent behind it.

Punz stilled his motions for a moment, "I don't have a knot."

Fundy gave a slurred, "It's fine."

Punz took that alone as initiative to keep moving, he'd just stay in longer, probably not the entire hour that a foxes knot remains, but he'd try. He holds still when Fundy tries to roll over, reluctantly pulling out as he presents instinctively. He keeps his tail resting atop his back, out of the way and Punz really wouldn't mind eating him out with an angle like this. But that isn't the purpose of tonight, he has a plan, and he's gonna follow it out no matter how tempted he is to stray.

"Like this," Fundy keened out, "Works better," He stretched his arms to rest his hands on the pillows, claws digging into feather filled cushions.

Hands came to rest at his hips and he gave a chirp at the pressure as his ears drop down, mouth hung open. A hand smoothed over to grasp the stem of his tail as Punz thrust in once more. Fundys back arched, fur on his tail bristling as he gave a throaty yelp of pleasure, tongue hanging just past his cuspids as Punz did it again. Hands dug into his hips and tugged at his tail in time with each time their hips met in a sluggish instant.

"Dream never made you feel this good," Punz got out, almost breathlessly, already reaching his end of the stick with the foxes tightening. He knew it was genetics through and through, but what he would give to just spend an entire day with Fundy resting so prettily on his cock. He ran his hand along the pale underside of Fundys torso, "He fucking never knew how to touch you, right baby?"

Fundy nodded as frantically as he could, "N-Never."

"Now I'm doing what he did, so much better, cause you belong to me," Punz' voice is nearly snarl, he catches the faint sound of pillows tearing, "And I belong to you."

He snaps his hips to Fundys one final time before climax finally catches him, a low and drawn out groan is pulled through him as he rests against Fundys back. The fox gives a loud yowl as he collapses even further into the bed, mouth hanging open as he pants, that heavy purr still rests underneath it all. Punz rests his head beside Fundys and nuzzles against him, Fundy returns the motion to the best of his ability.

"I don't know if I can stay in as long as foxes do," Punz got out somewhat nervously.

"It's fine," Fundy murmured out, "I don't think it matters cause I'm not a full fox."

Punz nodded a bit, "I'll keep that in mind, but, let's just stay like this for a bit."

Fundy gave a contented hum, "Love you."

Punz pressed a lazy kiss to his cheek, "Love you so much."

"I really don't think this is a good idea," Fundy got out quietly as he leaned on the arm rest of Punz' chair.

"He can't do shit about it," Punz said, leaning over to give Fundy a brief kiss, "If he can't handle seeing my magnificent husband sitting on my cock through a business meeting that most certainly sucks for him."

"Good point," Fundy said, undoing his belt as he spoke, "No complaining if your legs get sore."

"A small hurdle to jump," Punz answered with as Fundy took a seat on the arm rest before swiveling around, "It's barely been four months."

"Fox genes," Fundy chided, swishing his tail to the side as he spat on his hand, briefly prodding at his anus.

"Don't care," Punz answered with, helping Fundy rest comfortably on his cock, "You still look handsome as shit."

Fundy gave a content him, "Even if I'm pregnant you still think I look like the epitome of being hot?"

"Yes," Punz answered with, speaking so fast it was like someone had pulled the trigger.

Fundy gave a small smirk, "I'm flattered, really, now, send him in."

Punz pressed a small button on the table, Fundy shifted a bit and he stifled a moan, "Don't do that."

"Make me," Fundy shot back, voice dangerously low, as he watched the doors swing open.

Dream walked in, mask fully down, he still paused at the sight of Fundy resting comfortably on Punz' lap. He froze even more at the sight of him pregnant, so they really were as serious as Punz always said. He still walked further in, sitting at the other end of the debate table and waiting patiently for Punz to talk first.

"So," Punz began shakily, "What is it you wanted to discuss?"

"The legality of fertility potions," Dream said, that was a lie, he knew damn well that Fundy would need one of them. And he needed a way to shatter what Punz and Fundy had, even if it was out of sheer spite.

Fundy smirked a devilish smirk, "Jealous you never figured out the secret to making me yours?" He could practically see how much he was getting under Dreams skin with that word alone, "Or do you just regret not knocking me up when you had the chance?"

Dream paused momentarily, "No, and no," Lies.

"Jealous that someone this hot is sitting in my lap and not yours?" Punz answered with, drumming his fingers on the table, making sure he used the hand with the wedding band.

Dream seized up a bit at the accusation, "Don't you think this is just a little bit unprofessional?"

"It's my server now," Punz snarled out, "Deal with me having my absolutely drop dead sexy husband sitting on my cock or I'll make sure that death is knocking on your door."

That certainly shut Dream up, made him think over his next words a bit more as well. The meeting was tense, Dream consistently had to go back on his words, having a hard time formulating past the initial lie. Somewhere between stifled moans and lovesick gazes he excused himself from the meeting.

Fundy ground himself against Punz' lap a little bit harder, garnering a full fledged moan, "We should do that more often."

Punz nodded, "All the time from this day forward."

Chapter Text

It was subtle at first, the faint murmur in his head that he accounted to be his usual train of thought.

And then he could tell what it was; a singular voice, unlike his own or any other he'd heard in his life time. He couldn't get it to shut up no matter what he did, and when he brought it up it got played off as plain old insanity. No matter who he tried to talk to about it that stupid droning voice was always treated as nothing.

"Quackity, I, we can be adults about this right?" Karl asked tentatively.

Quackity paused, "About what?"

"The voice," Karl said nervously, Quackity gave a bemused hum.

"For the last time Karl, there is no voice," Quackity said sternly, "If there is, find a good way to prove it to Ponk."

Karl furrowed his brows, "I'm talking to Sapnap about this."

He was starting to wonder if he go insane because of that alone.

Then coordinates began to drone on his head, loud, he hated how loud the near silence felt when he was alone. At first he thought that the voice was just spewing random numbers, over and over again, in mindless repetition. It wasn't until Bad found him scrawling out those numbers on a piece of paper that he learned they were coordinates.

"What's with the numbers Karl?" Bad asked as he sat down beside Karl, he jumped a bit at the sudden lean against his form.

Karl shrugged, "Just numbers."

"They look like coordinates man," Bad said before pointing a blunted claw to each string of numbers, "Ya get what I'm saying? X, Y, and Z axis."

Karl squinted a bit, "Yeah, yeah I see it. You got a good eye for coordinates Bad."

Bad gave a grin, "Thanks man! But uh, I'm not so sure you should check out that place though."

"Why so?" Karl asked, and the voice tried to drown out Bads, but he failed.

"I've heard it's pretty weird, from the maps I've seen at least it looks kind of iffy," Bad explained, "Steer clear from it if it looks red."

Karl stayed quiet, "I'll consider steering clear."

"Suit yourself, I've been meaning to check it out myself," Bad said before standing up.

"Thanks man!" Karl called out as Bad took his leave.

Then he followed those coordinates, the voice got louder as he got closer, it became more and more clear in his head. It was all that he could focus on now, he only listened to the hunger in his stomach and the ache in his bones when they made him listen. When he was forced to drop to his feet in pain and take a bite of what little food he brought with him. Otherwise he was content delving deeper and deeper into the forests he was traversing.

Even when he started to notice the red popping up all around him he kept going, ignoring Bads warnings. The warnings barely rang true in his head, they had drowned underneath every word the voice had told him as he watched the red show up. Poppies, apples, mooshrooms even though they don't belong in that biome- the hue was popping up everywhere. The green of the leaves was starting to fade as he inched ever closer to the coordinates in his head and on his map. When he finally arrived he was on the verge of collapsing once more, the sudden silence in his head left him empty.

"Why'd you stop talking?" Karls words come out hollow as he crumbles to his knees in the final push of his venture, able to see red oozing into the ground just past the next thicket of trees.

He's breathing heavy as he falls over entirely, he swears he's having a reverse migraine with the silence instead of the noise. He flipped himself onto his back.

"Hello?" He begged into the sky up above him, blue turning to a warm orange, "Was I wrong?"

He curls in on himself a bit as he speaks, glancing at the once blue hues on his sweater having begun to turn purple.

"Are you actually real? Were they right?" Karl cried out, as loud as his throat would let him in the absolute silence.

He can't keep his eyes open, or force himself to his own feet to make the final push. He tried his very hardest to stay awake but he couldn't manage very long.

"I miss Sapnap," The words come out a whisper as he drifts further and further into sleep, "And Quackity…"

When Karl wakes up the next morning he's forgotten the names that he missed so much, the faces blur in a bloody crimson. All he does is stand up and bask in the brief silence as he looks at his jacket, it's closer to magenta, the previous deep pink turning a pale rose. He pays no mind to it as he continues on, closer and closer to the coordinates he needed to reach.

He finds a ruined nether portal, pools of lava leave him in a pleasant heat as he steps closer. He doesn't even pay mind to the vines making their way further from the crying obsidian, pulling the ground into netherack. He pauses when he reaches the edge of the ruined portal, staring at it's splendor. He wants to be afraid, a deep gut feeling keeps telling him not to touch it.

"Closer…"

That voice in his head returns, he goes stiff as a board, thoughts wiped down for a brief moment. He waits patiently for the next order, that's most of what he can focus on now as he glances at the woods around him. Everything is so green, and then he glances down at the ground only to find that he's seeing red.

"Through the portal…"

He gives a brief nod, "Yes, my master," He's quick to grab what he needs from his inventory and start repairing the portal.

The entire time through he hears that voice beckoning for him, calling him closer, who is he to deny it? All he does is watch red turn to black over and over before tossing aside the buckets. He crouches down to loot the chest, but the voice says no, he does as told without even thinking about it. He grabs his flint and steel, holding it at the base of the obsidian arch, he flicks until sparks turn to a purple film.

In an instant crimson vines spill from the portal, it doesn't deter him from entering. He's already discarded his weapons at the door, he knows the voice wouldn't lead him astray. He's sure of it entirely, it hasn't led him to danger yet, and he's sure that it won't now.

When Karl enters the room The Egg can't help but feel a sense of dismay. Of course they had to draw in the guy who kept ruining their plans, but, he feels different. He doesn't reek of time travel, and he looks less shattered at that, like all of his screws are in place.

He's powerful, inherently so even if he hasn't already realized that, but The Egg knows. The Egg knows how much Karl could do to change history itself if he so desired, yet he's under their control when he shouldn't be. They could do so much to prevent everything from going wrong for them and make everything go right instead.

And that starts with giving Karl Jacobs exactly what he wants, and his fiancés will never give it to him either. He's the perfect prey, he's better than anyone else for the role of the first to lose themselves. Because not only will he be the first soldier, but he'll also willingly sire The Egg an army.

"You've found me Jacobs," They spoke, Karl turned to face them, his corruption already deep rooted with how much he's went from blue to red.

Karl steps closer, he even takes a knee, "My master," If he were the Karl of months ago he would have so many questions filled with rage to ask. But he finds himself docile in the presence of the being that brought him here.

"What is it that you desire Jacobs?" The Egg questioned, they intently watched as Karl perked up, lifting his head as he stood. He paid no mind to the vines snaking ever closer to his form.

"Nothing," Karl blurted out, that voice in his head gnawing at him to bare his soul to The Egg. A part of him refrained, the rest wanted to submit.

Vines roped up around Karls calf and he tensed, "Be honest with yourself Jacobs, you've done so much for me, and I can do anything for you," The voice rumbled in a sedative manner as it rolled into Karls mind.

"I," Karl stuttered out, he couldn't bring himself to say it, even as a soft, leafy rope dropped down to slide under his shirt. He shuddered as it twisted against his chest.

"Do you want a family Jacobs?" The Egg asked.

Karls desperate nod was more than enough of an answer.

"I can give it to you," The Egg said, they would laugh at Karls reaction to the notions if they didn't want to break their hypnotic curse.

"I'm a guy," Karl got out quietly, "So are, so are my fiancés, we don't get a family."

"The Egg can give you a family if you serve me and only me," The Egg promised, Karl still looked hesitant even as the offer slipped past his common sense, "It'll be me, you, and one day your fiancés will join us Jacobs, it'll be grand."

Karl opened his mouth to speak, hesitating as that tightening grip on his calf migrated to his thigh, "You can actually give me a family?"

"Of course Jacobs, I can do anything, after you get that family then we could go find everyone, let them in on the fun!" The Egg offered, sounding so sincere Karl fell for it.

"Yes, my master, you hold up your end of the deal I'll hold up mine," Karl said, mental defenses further crumbling as that same vine curved up to rub a flower bud against his crotch.

"It'll be wonderful Jacobs," They purred as Karl slumped down, back resting on stone stairs as semi-sentient vines clawed at his waistband.

Karl nodded silently, mouth hung open in a silent moan as the plantation curled around his cock. His hands rested on the stairs, digging into the stone below him as the leaves pulsated around his cock, hands distantly came to push down his pants fully. He tugged down his trousers just a bit, the vines dropped down to pull them down the rest of the way, caressing at his thighs gently.

He moaned softly as another vine, a thicker and somewhat slimy vine, slid down his the back of his shirt. It was devoid of texture, just smooth and warm, the tip of it oozing a crimson goop as it lodged itself between the cleft of Karls ass.

"Just me and you Jacobs," The Egg  spoke softly, tone dulcet in the back of Karls mind, he nodded.

His mind wasn't entirely there as the tentacle pushed past his rim, the tapering girth slowly getting larger. He gave a moan as he tilted his head back, grasping for something to hold onto. He ends up twisting his hand into a set of vines as he cries out, he glances down to the distorted hues of his jacket. His stomach feels a little bit sore, he drops a spare hand to his stomach and feels the slightest distend.

"Master," Karl keened, pressing to where the tip of the tentacle prodded against his insides, "I can't."

"You can Jacobs, for a family, for The Egg," They said, coaxing Karl into giving a weary 'okay' as he withstood.

Karl felt all tingly inside, he wanted to sob so desperately as the pressure at his rim increased once more. He slumped even further against the stairs, resting a little bit on his side as he wrapped his arms around his abdomen. He gave a yelp as the first bulge pushed past his rim, the tentacle retracted a little bit, still coating his insides with that warm, crimson, ooze.

Again, another orb forcing it's way through, tears prick at the corners of his eyes. The pressure in his abdomen mounts, his prostate aches when a weight rests on it but doesn't move. He gives a throaty cry as he orgasms, desperately gripping on the edge of the stairs as the weight stays put. He sobs out another weak moan as more weight is added, his hand drops to press at his stomach through the fabric of his jacket and his shirt. It feels sore, and a little bit distended, he whimpers as he curls in on himself.

Thick, leafy vines come down and tugged apart his legs, they let his arms stay put. He keens at the slight stretch of his pelvis and gives a little whine as yet another slime coated tentacle drops down the front of his jacket. It tears along his zipper as another one drops down and curls around his pectoral muscle, rubbing that crimson ooze along his hardened nipple. It drew a shaky moan from him and it tingled exponentially, he squirmed in his spot.

More weight hit him and he cried out in a mix of pain and pleasure, "I can't master," He felt tears prick at the corner of his eyes.

"Yes you can Jacobs, only a couple more are left," The Egg purred, stroking Karls cock to full mast once more.

He whined at the excessive stimulation and tears actually spilled over as another bulge prodded at his rim. It was looser now, gave easier under the pressure that kept forcing it's way past. He gave a throaty cry as he slumped forward, thighs forced apart no matter how badly he wanted to close them. The tapering tentacle slowly slid it's way back out, dropping one final egg into Karls insides and giving a hearty burst of sludge.

Karl reached to clutch his stomach, but again, he came, a shaking sob of pleasure tore through him as the orgasm was yanked out of him. He crumpled in on himself, stickiness painting his distended stomach, "It hurts master, it hurts so bad."

"It's amazing Karl, you've done so well for me," The Egg purred, releasing Karls thighs and sliding a multitude of thick, foliage under his form.

Karl glanced down to his stomach, it was distended, and ugly, lumpy at that. He felt nauseated at the sight and he curled in on himself, was he, was he going through sub drop? Or just regular regret? He listened so fucking intently to every word they said, voice so calm and he fell for it.

"Jacobs?" The Egg asked softly.

"I fucked up," Karl managed to get out on a whimper.

"What? No, you did everything perfectly, our family will be beautiful Karl," The Egg said, if they had a body they would be using hands and arms to caress Karl so delicately. To make him feel just right, to keep him under the spell.

Karl stayed quiet.

"Once they've hatched then we can find your fiances yes? And we can convince them to join, it'll be a perfect family," The Egg promised, they couldn't believe the sincerity on their own voice,

A nod, "Okay, I," He paused, "I love you."

The Egg was taken aback at the statement. They supposed that's what happens after months of mind breaking (and rebuilding), and the isolation that comes with it. They thought over the following words carefully, "I love you too," They were lying.

The Egg liked to tell themselves that they were lying whenever they said I love you to Karl. Even while they watch him veer ever closer to actually laying those eggs and watching them hatch. They had to admit that he is awfully cute decked out in outfits made purely of red, black, and white.

And he was being oh so diligent in making the newest recruit feel at home the only way he knew how too. It's a good thing that the demon is rather weak with The Eggs voice screaming and chanting in his head to join. Going so far as too say that Karl is so much better then whatever it is that the demon initially wanted, and The Egg does it's job just right. Twisting and twisting the recruits mind as Karl helps them out with the job, saying how happy he is and how amazing it all is.

Yet Karl still clings to the vines of The Egg and tends to their every wish and whim while being promised the perfect family. And he's fallen so deep into it there really is no return at this point, so deeply devoted to every word they speak. No matter how many recruits he eagerly ushers in with the help of the demon, he's only there for The Egg.

And maybe The Egg is really liking it, loving it even. Those caramel golden locks, resting in a curly tangle atop his head. The softness that's come to a once malnourished form, the dull sharpness of now carmine eyes. The saccharine grin he wears every single day when he teases The Egg for just one more go at it. The tender dulcet he uses every single time he says he wants to have another set of eggs oviposited.

It's been months now, and Karl is deeply devoted to The Egg, and they love every aspect of it.

Chapter Text

Quackity should've known better than to dare question either of his masters. He should've known better than to bother them while they were working, draping himself across the ram while he sat at his desk and the human while he tuned his guitar.

"Quackity," Schlatt said as calmly as he could bring himself to do so with the avian nicking at the nape of his neck.

"Yes, Schlatt?" Quackity purred back, unfurling a wing and curving it around his lovers shoulders.

"I'm doing work," Schlatt said, giving a signature at the bottom of a piece of paper. He tensed briefly when the avian sucked a mark into his neck, "Go bother Wilbur."

Quackity steps back with a huff, "Fine, I'll go bother Wilbur."

"I still love you doll," Schlatt said as he leaned back, he reached out and brought his hands to Quackity's face. The hybrid flared up red just a bit at the gentle touch, "I'm just a bit too busy to have some fun."

Quackity simply whimpers as he drops his head further into Schlatt's hands, "Okay, later?"

Schlatt nodded, "Of course."

"Any requests?" Quackity asked.

"Vibrators, restraints," Sclatt said calmly, a shiver of unprecedented arousal ran down Quackity's spine at the notions alone, "I have plans for you."

Quackity nods, Schlatt drops his hands and leans back over his desk.

"Go bother Wilbur," Schlatt said, a loving essence to the way he spoke the words.

-/-/-/-

Wilbur is tuning his guitar when he's interrupted by Quackity, arms sliding around his waist and head resting on his shoulder. He gives a hum, "Hello love."

"Wilbur," Quackity whined, refraining from rutting against Wilbur, neediness consuming him. Maybe he was coming up on his rut, that would explain it a little bit, or maybe he was just horny.

"What is it now?" Wilbur asked, placing down his guitar as he spoke. He leaned back against Quackity.

"Come to bed," Quackity whispered, words resting on Wilbur's skin with a veritable depth to them that he reveled in hearing from the avian.

Wilbur gave a hum, "I have a show in an hour, no can do love."

Quackity whines loudly, "Please."

"After the show," Wilbur answered with, "Talk to Schlatt, he's always down for a blowjob."

"He said no," Quackity answered with meekly.

Wilbur gives a hum, "After the show, I promise love."

"Okay, Schlatt already has ideas," Quackity disclaimed cautiously.

"I'll work with him," Wilbur answered with, he pressed a kiss to Quackity's cheek, "Now get out of here, I gotta tune my stuff."

-/-/-/-

"He needs to learn," Wilbur said quietly.

Schlatt nodded in agreement, "We don't let him cum tonight."

Wilbur hesitated before agreeing, "Yeah, sounds a bit rough, but you're right."

"We can fuck him silly until he passes out tomorrow, but tonight, we won't touch his dick even once," Schlatt said, "Do we have an agreement?"

"Do you think he'll come out of it any smarter about bothering us?" Wilbur asked.

Schlatt shrugged, "If he does, we've won. If he doesn't, we get to do it again, and again, and again."

"We do it again?" Wilbur asked, maybe he was a little bit intimidated at how invested Schlatt sounded in putting Quackity through whatever he had planned.

"You'll love it darling," Schlatt said, slinking around Wilbur to trail kisses up from the nape of his neck to the line of his jaw, leaving a singular micro bite at his lower lip. It made Wilbur shudder, "I did it all the time to my previous lovers."

"Then they left you?" Wilbur asked, hand snaking it's way down Schlatt's back to squeeze his ass and run through the fur of his tail.

Schlatt shook his head, "Someone assassinated them, don't worry, I'd take a hundred bullets for you and Quackity."

Relief runs through Wilbur at the words, "Let's go fuck up Quackity then," His hand comes to the door handle but Schlatt stops him.

"Remember," He said sternly, Wilbur met his gaze, "We aren't to touch him in any of his erogenous zones."

"Wings?" Wilbur asked.

"Those won't trigger orgasm, wings are fine by a very thin margin," Schlatt said before letting Wilbur open the door.

They found Quackity lying on the bed, a series of vibrators and restraints splayed out around him. His wings lay limp behind him, knees hitched below and his shirt is already unbuttoned, same with his pants. Schlatt enters first, Wilbur follows, trying to uphold the same sense of silent dominance that Schlatt is impeccable at doing.

A grin finds it's way to Quackity's face as he notices them, he perks up instantly. They drop down on either side of the bed, Wilbur grabs a vibrator and Schlatt grabs the leather binds specifically crafted for the express purpose of Quackity's wings. He also grabs the spreader bar, again, built specifically for Quackity's wings. He feels a heat pool in his gut, a bit more intense than the previous one with the items being grabbed.

"So, what's the plan?" Quackity asked.

Wilbur shrugged.

"Look, doll, we both love you, we really do. But, you need to learn some patience. We know you're capable of it," Schlatt said chidingly, his voice was cold, "I've devised a small little challenge for you," That's a lie, there's no way in hell for Quackity to win this. He always wins when he gambles, but this isn't a game that's worth going all in over.

"Do tell," Quackity urged as Wilbur tugged down his pants. The shirt came off next.

"It's quite simple, really. You have the following hour, hour and a half, to cum," Schlatt said, Quackity scoffed. A hand came to his chin and wrenched his gaze to meet Schlatts, "Here's the kicker, me and Wilbur won't touch you."

Quackity's eyes widen in shock and dismay.

A hand comes to rest at his cock, "We won't touch you here."

Wilbur's hands raise to Quackity's pecs as Schlatt narrates, "Or there."

Two hands squeeze his thighs tightly, "Especially not there."

Teeth come to his neck, "Maybe there, if we're feeling bold."

Fingers deftly spread the cleft of his ass and prod at his entrance, he whimpers, "Or down there."

"Will you touch me anywhere?" Quackity asked desperately.

Schlatt nearly laughs, "Of course we will doll, it just won't be anywhere you want it to be."

Quackity whined, "Wilbur...?"

"Sorry love, but this is what's happening tonight," Wilbur said calmly. He traced a hand along Quackity's calf, "Where are we putting the vibrators dear?"

Schlatt paused, "Christ I forgot about those entirely darling," He gives a light laugh and releases his grasp on Quackity's face. The avian lurches back just a bit, "But before we do anything else, we need to deal with these," To punctuate he grabs hold of Quackity's hands roughly.

Wilbur reaches for cuffs, leather, metal, he isn't sure which one is better. Schlatt tsks and holds up the leather strips instead, not quite rope, not solid cuffs, like a gauze tape. He curls Quackity's fingers in one by one and holds his wrists together as Wilbur wraps them tactfully. It's loose enough he can rub his wrists together but tight enough to prevent him from freeing himself.

Schlatt taps along the binding and clips it shut, Wilbur drops back and tosses aside the additional wrist bindings. Quackity whimpers a bit, Wilbur brings a hand to his cheek, brushing gently over the skin. Schlatt glares at his partner and Wilbur retracts his hand, he's promptly handed the spreader bar for the avians wings. He freezes up a bit with it in his hands, and he knows that Schlatt wants him to do it. They all know that Quackity thinks he can cheat an orgasm out of Wilbur, Schlatt needs Wilbur to say that won't happen without actually saying it.

Wilbur nods silently before making his way behind Quackity, he tugs gently on both wings and they stretch straight backward, catching him in a sea of gold. He runs his fingers along the silky soft feathers briefly, Schlatt clears his throat.

"Wilbur," The drop of his real name makes Wilbur's blood run cold, "The bar."

Wilbur nodded, fuck, he hated being stuck between Quackity and Schlatt in terms of domination. He clips on one of the cuffs, they're rubber to make sure they don't hurt the most submissive. The cuffs clip on just below the arch of his wing, closer to his back and allow just enough space for Wilbur or Schlatt to rest between the feathered appendages.

He grabs Quackity's wings and folds them down, Schlatt latches one shut with the leather bonding, Wilbur latches the other. The ram holds up a pair of vibrators before bending over Quackity, legs spreading reflexively. Quackity tries to stretch his wings just a bit, they don't extend anymore, it's a stinging type of pleasure.

He gives a yipe when a vibrator is harshly shoved in his ass, Schlatt gives a hum of a laugh. Another vibrator is placed at his thighs, Wilbur taps both of them and he pulls them shut. The vibrations ache into his bones, resting a mere inch from his cock, he whines. Two much smaller ones are placed at his pecs, just below his nipples. If anticipation could kill he'd be dead a hundred times over already.

"Ready doll?" Schlatt asked quietly.

Quackity nodded eagerly, "Ready."

Wilbur flicked on the vibrators, lowest setting first. Quackity jolted just a bit, resting easy within a second of it happening. He forced it up to max and Quackity yowled.

"Oh god, oh fuck, shit," Quackity panted out desperately, wings spasming in their restraints and cock twitching eagerly. His breathing was harsh as he tried to acclimate to the vibrations.

Wilbur strokes his back gently, "Now, now, don't make us grab the gags."

Quackity bit his tongue and choked out a weak, "Okay, now what?"

Schlatt just gave a hum, "Now we see how it takes for you to crumble."

He nods to Wilbur and the musician turns off the vibrators entirely, Quackity snaps his gaze to Wilbur desperately. It draws a low chuckle from him, and Schlatt knows that he's already won his game.

Chapter Text

so,, im getting back into dsmp, was looking through my inbox, and remembered that I have this little request book. I just wanted to say 'hey im still here' even though I've been inconsistent about that in the past, im sorry about that by the way, least i couldve done was tagged it as hiatus, but timed flew and i didnt realize how long it had been. so in that case, im just here to humbly ask for requests, any mix of the characters tagged because im a multishipper like that, and i hope that i can continue to give ya'll some amazing reads