berriblend

Ticket Taker Headcannons:

Design-wise, I thought it would be fun to mimic the drips in his mask throughout coloring too!

I also love the idea that if hungry/overwhelmed/stressed the spots on his hands drip ink, which means he washes a LOT of those white gloves. That, combined with him being very particular and neat, would make for an interesting annoyance on his end I'm sure! (But also: Ink smears occasionally left on MC when he loses a bit of control -u- )

Mmmm a royal family of werewolves, the country is a constitutional monarchy, but the royal family still holds sway over banks and such.

You as a diplomatic envoy, visit and stay in a small guest house on the royal grounds, not expecting to find the oldest of the royal children, a werewolf with deep reddish brown fur and nearly three decades of life experience, royal training, and graces taught to him, kneeling on the bed you'd been sleeping in humping against the pillow you used.

Telling him not to stop on your behalf, looking him over as you move closer.

Ignoring the whimper he lets out and settling into place on the bed, pulling the handkerchief you've been using to dab at sweat from the different climate, and shoving it into his face. Watching as he shudders and whines again, hips starting to move, soft yellow eyes watching you as he fucks himself against the pillow.

Kicking off your shoes from the day as you settle more on the bed, shifting so that you are sitting in front of him, watching more intentionally as he holds the handkerchief to his face on his own, whole body shaking as he seems to be stopping himself from cumming.

Just an older, unmarried, werewolf prince with a massive crush on one of the visiting diplomats. He's humping your pillow, stealing your handkerchiefs or laundry when you're at the palace, just desperate to get a solid hit of the scent he's enamored with.

One of the gargoyles in the IT department asks you one day if you like your job...

Really, you hadn't ever thought about it in depth but sure enough you didn't mind the work you did, an admin assistant is easy enough work to fill the days and pass the time between clocking in and clocking out, so you shrug and nod at the gargoyle. Giving a casual answer about how you don't mind the work, spinning in the chair you wait in, watching as the stone creature does whatever to your work PC, tossing out that it's better than retail, that however, gets you a gravely laugh from the creature.

The gargoyle sits with you as you wait for the defrag to run, playing with an eraser on your desk top as your boss walks past, a mass of shadows and half silenced screams in a well pressed suit. Watching him go, you look back at the gargoyle perched on its own chair, quipping that for someone employed to what you're pretty sure is a lord of nightmares and shadows, it's pretty good.

It nods at you and starts a scan on your PC as it looks over to where your boss had walked, grunting that there are worse monsters to run a corporate office, it clicks a few things before standing up and groaning about shit chairs and stiff rocks. Your PC is fixed apparently, and the gargoyle lumbers back down to the darker area of IT, barely waving its hand at you when you yell thanks at its retreating form.

As you settle back into your desk you peak your boss watching you from around the corner, the quiet screams sounding more like mutters talking over themselves as you tilt your head and smile at him, asking if he needs something from you now that your computer is working again. You watch as he shakes its head, the dark black shadows shifting to a blue purple for a second before he turns and heads back into his office.

So, lords of shadow and nightmares can blush...

Cute.

One afternoon you were in the hayloft, cooing over the cat and her new litter of tiny fuzzy, kittens, when something moved off to the side. It was just dark enough in the hayloft that the shadowy corners could hold anything in them, but you'd never been afraid of the dark in here. You went over, thinking you'd find another cat.

He’s gotten to the age where he’s not really interested in going out to meet new people. He’s content getting to take one of your nipples into into his mouth and jerk off while you scroll on your phone.

If you let him fuck your tits he’ll even pay for your nails and groceries for the month. Licking the tip or letting him cum on your face means he’ll treat you to a trip out of town.

You’ve let him fuck your doughy thighs once and he made a mess all over them almost immediately…

He wouldn’t call himself your sugar daddy. He’s not exactly rich and doesn’t pamper you like he wants to, but you’re taken care of and he’s grown quite fond of you.

Reader who has some sort of midas curse, everything she touches turns to gold. She's lonely and sad and it's sad

But suddenly...a dragon with gold scales finds her. And cherishes her, and loves her. Cause she fan finally be touched, and she finds herself completely and utterly obsessed with this dragon

And obviously they have the nastiest sex of all time

Cryptid... I am, with platonic intent, kissing you on the forehead and scratching behind them ears rn.

This is delicious.

-

It was a blessing your father told you, promising nothing but glory and riches for life, a boon to make the family great and powerful!

You hate this curse, and it is a curse not a blessing, a befouling of the very nature of your person. No matter how you try you will always be alone, afraid to touch or be touched by others, the end of the precession, the last one seated, the one that empties a bench the moment you take your seat. Every way someone has tried to spin the misfortune that has found you never lightens the shadow of never being able to touch another person, or knowing the soft embrace of another's arms.

So it is long overdue that you leave, turning a few large objects to gold for your family as you depart, no notes or messages to explain as the paper turned solid and dense as your fingers brushed against the parchment.

It's a short stroll away from the home your family bought with funds made from your curse, slipping into the dense woods, an old hunters trail that loops deeper into a world that isn't scared of you. The sun is beginning to set as you come to a stop, standing in a wide clearing sighing heavily as consider stopping here and braving the summer night somewhere so open, the kingdom has tales of mythical creatures that dwell in these places, but you hardly care, after all, a single brush if your fingertips will turn them to gold.

Laying under a willow you fiddle with some of the fallen leaves, turning them to gold and tossing them into the grass, listening as the wind makes them tinkle and ping across the pebbles hidden in the grass.

When the wind picks up, through the willows hanging leaves you see it, the brilliant golden shine of scales and wide flaring wings. Fear lances through you as a plume of smoke curls from her, she shuffles through the grass, pushing up the golden leaves you had made, the shiny little trinkets collected and pulled close by this large creature of pure golden glory. Almost like a sirens call you step out from under the willow, drawing the dragons attention as you touch the willow leaves, the long strand of gold drawing shimmering red eyes to the sight immediately.

You should be afraid as the dragon leans forward, teeth sharp and air filling with the scent of ash, fire, and burnt wood. She gently tugs the gold leaves from the tree, placing them with the others she had collected from the grass, long neck herding you into said collection as she turns herself around, a purr like rumble fills the air before she speaks to you. She asks if the golden gift you have is eternal or simply a magical trick of the day, clearly interested in the little human making such shiny little trinkets.

Your answer is soft and makes the giant creature lean into your space to listen, hearing you tell of the curse, the loneliness, the eventually leaving of your family home.

She laughs in response, saying your family's loss is her gain, she is made of gold and no touch such as yours could unmake her. Not so gently does she push you to clamber atop her, still speaking as she feels you settle into a safe space on her back, letting you marvel at how you're able to so freely touch such a large monster such as she. Pressing your cheek to fire warmed scales as she calls you her little trinket, putting about taking you home with her and keeping such a perfect little human such as you all for herself, after all, you may lay your hands on her as much as you like, both in her scales and in the shimmering glamour of her more mortal form.

Obviously it’s not required of you to tell them you have asthma that tends to flare up when you’re stressed or overexcited but it might be v helpful so your sub can get you your inhaler when they’ll see you wheezing because they just took those spanks so beautifully and your lungs agree with you!!!

You might not want to be tied up and suspended while your blood sugar is dropping and having to fight off the dizziness and the sleepiness to walk your dom through the effects type 1 diabetes can have on your bondage experience!!!

The night you bring him sunglasses is when he knows you’re going to be his mate. He feigns confusion and asks how to put them on. You giggle and lean forward, setting them on his face. He takes that moment to grab your wrists, yanking you into the salt water. You barely manage to catch a breath before hitting the water, not that it matters because as soon as he kisses you, you suddenly can breathe.

You want to be angry at him, but he looks so happy. He starts clicking and chirping, something he hasn’t done in a few weeks since he realized you can’t understand him. It must be like when you gets excited and revert to your mother tongue.

His shark teeth gently nip at you neck as he tugs at your clothes, encouraging you to slip out of your swimsuit. You know that you shouldn’t. This isn’t right. But you can’t help yourself. The feeling of your Siren slipping inside of you makes you whimper. He pushes you against the shifting sand of the ocean floor, slamming into you roughly. You can’t help the moans and sounds that escape your mouth. Thank God you can breathe under water now because there’s no way you could have contained yourself.

When he’s done, he eases back, burying his face between your trembling legs. His fat tongue encourages you to finish, and you do rather quickly. Once he’s satisfied, his kisses make their way back up to your lips.

eventually you’re grinding into each other, gasping into eachother’s mouths between heated kisses. and god, they’re just so beautiful— and you need them. so you can’t help but whisper between love-bites on their neck, begging them to let you taste them. because you need it so bad, you’re trembling at the thought.

obviously, this is where they’re a bit iffy. not because they don’t want to. but because nobody’s ever made them feel good before. their last experiences were spent with people who didn’t know what they were doing. but you? you’ve been waiting for this— waiting for them. so when you start kissing your way down their body, they get nervous, their hands flying to your hair as a way to ground themselves.

-needy bottoms lifting their tails to expose their holes like animals in heat

-shy bottoms covering their holes with their tails so you can move it aside

-grabbing them at the base of the tail to hold them still while you fuck them

-wrapping your tail around them in public as an act of ownership

- wrapping your tail around their head while they go down on you to keep them in place (especially if you're doing something unrelated with your hands)

If so…

Imagine him getting a blowjob for the first time.

Claws gripping his desk as his little mate clumsily licks his shaft. 

anon i am simply always thinking about that fucking werewolf priest and the vampire nun.

I think it would be so hard to talk him into letting you give him a blowjob. It's easier in his head to justify fucking you, especially in the ravenous state of his heat it's not even really him that's giving in it's the monster that lives in his chest. A blowjob just feels so selfish.

Not that he doesn't think about it every time you're praying on your knees, God forbid you open your eyes and look up at him while you're kneeling like that. it would be so easy to card his fingers through your hair and push your mouth down onto him. You would let him too, you are so bad at resisting your temptations, and he loves you for it. So he has to be the strong one. He will be the one to push you back and tell you that you don't have to do that for him.

But he is, for a lack of a better term, only human. There's only so much pleading he can take before he gives in and lets you please him.

He grips the bench he's sitting on so hard the wood cracks. With you drooling on his cock he can't help but forget his own strength. You're not the most experienced, and his dick is so big it's hard to fit him all in your mouth. You start out just licking him, kissing and sucking his shaft, spitting on his tip and using your hand to slick it down to his thick base.

you take him into your mouth, fitting your tongue around his tip and suck while jerking the rest of him off, slowly you manage to work your way down taking more and more of him into the back of your throat and leaving less of him in your hand with each stroke.

He feels like such a sinner, especially when he realizes that it turns him on watching you gag and tear up sucking his cock. seeing his pretty mate cry shouldn't get him twitching like this but it does.

He thinks about knotting your mouth and he has to tell you to stop to keep himself from doing it. it takes every ounce of his fragile self control not to thrust into your mouth and hump your face until he's shooting ropes down your throat.

You pout at him when he pulls you off of his cock until he flips you over, bends you over the pew and fucks that disappointment out of you.