Gross!

Crowley purchased you from a auction solely with the intention of you being the one that would finally catch the eye of his prized show bull

Lovely soft pelt, dreamy eyes, adorable ears and tail there was snow way he couldn't take a liking to you

Malleus wasn't stubborn when it came to mating more like selective, so selective in fact that he had passed up every opportunity to breed before he was presented with you

You where unceremoniously plopped into malleus' quarters with the door swiftly locked behind you from the outside and you could feel your heartbeat in your ears

Its not as if the two of you where left unawares of the circumstances of your meeting but that didn't make it any less nerve wracking

Well for you anyway, malleus was strangely calm and even offered you a roomy spot amongst his bedding to lay

Staying with him in his quarters was originally meant to be a temporary arrangement, crowley had cleared you your own place to stay long before you arrived as it was only the responsible thing to do!, still malleus was insistent that you where to stay with him when's it was possible and this included staying in the same bed

Now when it comes to the breeding itself he's a gentle but passionate lover, he's rough at times and was very pushy in the beginning without meaning to be but it almost always starts out soft and sweet

malleus prefers to bend you over something, anything, when he takes you and will do so anywhere

yes even in an open field he couldn't care less, nothing else matters to him other than making you full with his calf even if others are watching

ok for starters male hyenas are submissive in nature so ruggie would most likely be in a relationship from where I'm standing, not that he isn't capable of being more dominant though

he has almost no shame and will do anything for praise even if he's not all that into it, a pat on the head and a encouraging "good boy!" makes it worth while, I'm talking like literally licking the soles of your shoes type stuff

loves creampies because of course he does and will excitedly eat you out after cumming in you n make out with you after too if you're not opposed to it

easily overstimulated and cums fast most times, he has amazing stamina to make up for it

along with praise I do need to mention that he accepts treats in exchange for a job well done, the feeding itself wasn't a kink in the beginning but he'd be lying if he said being spoon fed pudding while having you cock warm him for the first time didn't awaken something

tug his tail! pull his hair! bite his ears! playfully though not enough to hurt too bad because he will return the favor in equal measure

whiney and vocal, he's fun to tease because of it, even if you tell him to try and keep his trap shut you can still hear some soft whimpers coming from him

doesn't mind getting messy and is into some,,, grosser kinks that I won't bring up here

leonas tongue lays flat stuck out above his bottom lip. he's sitting pretty next to you on the edge of your bed, hands placed in his lap and tail waving around behind him lazily. he's waiting for you to place another small chunk of meat in his mouth. you do, not before admiring the way a bit of drool pools under his tongue around rows of sharp teeth threatening to spill over and down his chin.

he chews with his eyes shut and hums a bit, pulling you closer to sit in his lap before laying down on his back. "not a good idea to eat laying down, you can choke" you say flatly, he scoffs a bit and taps along your thighs with his nails, he chuckles at the way you shiver in response.

"oh please 'm not a helpless kitten I'll be fine, this was your idea anyway" the 'prince treatment' you called it he rolls his eyes at the thought "now don't keep me waitin' yeah?" he motions to the toothpick you had been using to transfer the beef chunks from plate to mouth "dont use that thing this time either, you can pick up more with just your fingers" nodding with a huff you pick up two pieces with your fingers this time asking him to say 'aaaaaahhhh' first.

he obliges with a unamused look on his face, basically swallowing the pieces whole and grabbing your wrist before you can move them. why did you think it was a good idea to put your hand in the waiting maw of a hungry lion?

his tongue is rough against your fingers, not as rough as a lions tongue well more accurately not as rough as you'd imagine a lions tongue being. much more similar to a house cats, maybe even softer.

cute.

hes purring too you think, or humming atleast, usually you would tease him but not now, you'd like to enjoy now

he removes your fingers from his mouth but doesn't let your wrist go just yet. instead nipping at the back of your hand playfully before giving it too a long flat tongued lick as if lapping up water. then cupping it in both hands for a kiss. he smiles a soft genuine smile afterwards, looking up at you with soft eyes. weird.

"what the fuck was that about?" you pull your hand away rubbing it off on the side of your shirt.

mer lilia being a older siren who's been around for a while. he's been through the whole "dragging unsuspecting tourists and locals alike to their watery doom" phase on and off, now he just usually has his way and let's them go. he's even somewhat of a repeat offender, if anyone is crazy enough to approach under the pier during low tide regularly after an encounter. maybe you're one of them.

again, he has no interest in killing like he did when he was younger but he still relishes in the nervous energy and frantic movements of his victims. and the taste of their blood

the sloshing of the shore against the two of you doesn't help much either. sea water is a salty cold and uncomfortable anti lubricant. claws scrape at thighs and sand gets into wounds and it all burns

prepared for the eggs this time atleast, you try your best to relax your muscles against his intruding member. he clicks and chirps at you fondly, weirdly sweet sounds. this time he's in no rush to retreat back to the deep, instead cuddling you close(not that it's all that comfortable, the sand bites into your skin and the slimy feeling of his mucus covered body on yours is… unique) kissing at your body to taste at your fresh wounds.

when I was younger I used to be obsessed w this mermaid poem so that kinda shapes the way I see this au I suppose. it was about catching a mermaid and keeping her in your sink(tub in this case cus malleus is so big) feeding her lemonade and snails so she would do the dishes and sing in turn, even though she was sad and wanted to go home, or something like that

anyway

merman malleus stays in the tub day in and day out, where else is he supposed to go. he likes splashing around you found, esp when he's excited, so filling the tub all the way is not an option. his gills are on his neck you've noticed but he cam breath air somewhat fine, as long as his lower body is moist, maybe he's somewhat amphibious? you wouldn't know.

his shiny black scales have a pretty green opalesce to them, pretty enough to pluck and wear almost. not that you would think of doing that… right?

your relationship with him is fine after the first few weeks and then months and then years. he learns how to drain and refill the tub on his own pretty early on and while unable to speak to you he learns a few words and to nod and shake no as well. in turn of course you pick up on a few of his vocalizations, happy chirps and curious shrills and so on.

he has stockholm syndrome i think, dont feel like elaborating sorry.

you take showers and baths with him still in it because of course you do. he likes being close to you it seems. skin to skin contact soothing to his senses.

taking him to the bed with you isn't a reasonable option so at night when you're feeling needy you make your way to the bathroom. he likes kissing but has a strange way of going about it, licking at your mouth desperately not caring much for the actual lip to lip contact it seems. be careful not to let your lips or tongue get nipped by his sharp teeth, not that he would mind; he loves the taste of your blood and would bite if you'll allow it.

his slit is barely noticeable usually but at times like this it's puffy with arousal. he wants you to touch him. slide your fingers down and lick or kiss until the two tendril like members present themselves. you're still not certain exactly how they work, but he chirps happily and cums lots at your touch so does it matter? cums twice in your mouth and once against your thighs then again inside of you.

♡ trey

being friends w benefits with trey can go two ways I think, either he's super romantic when you fuck and then kinda distant any other time or he fucks you like he hates you but is your sweetest closest friend outside the bedroom

regardless of the fact that you two are definitely 100% not an item he's def the type to pinch your ass or grab your thighs in public when he thinks no one is looking, hes a bit of a tease

would always use protection, even if you were actually dating he would unless you beg him to creampie you he's kinda boring like that sos

♡ cater

oh he's like totally in love with you actually but also emotionally unavailable so this works too!

flirty in public yes but not anymore than he would be if you weren't fingering eachother every night

if he uses protection or not depends though I imagine him enjoying thighjobs, 69 etc more often than anything penetrative

after one particular romp in your room once the afterglow wore off he broke down in tears telling you how much he loves begging you to stay w him until he passed out, the next morning when you woke there where no traces of him left in your room and when you spoke to him in class he greeted you and acted as if nothing happened

♡ leona

this arrangement works pretty well for him actually, the last thing he feels he needs is the exhausting responsibility of an actual significant other

fucks unprotected definitely, especially if theres a risk of getting you pregnant, you'd think he'd care having a reputation as a prince but nope

the first dozen times you fucked he grumbled at you to get out of his room and flopped over to fall asleep, no after care or cuddles or nothing

could be something angsty about fearing intimacy but I think he's just lazy tbh, regardless he warms up eventually

ironically probably the most likely to accept if you ask him to become your actual bf after a while

Malleus’s understanding of the human body wasn’t exactly lacking. There were just... gaps. Odd little blind spots that, until now, had never posed a problem. But tonight, something about you didn’t sit right.

More accurately, something smelled off.

The scent of blood was unmistakable; sharp and heavy, like iron heated over flame, and it clung to you with a persistence that set him on edge. You waved him off when he asked about it, a nervous laugh and a quick excuse, but he saw the tension in your shoulders. You were hiding something.

That wouldn’t do.

Uncertain, he turned to the only source of wisdom more mischievous than merciful: Lilia.

The old bat had the nerve to laugh.

“Oh, that?” Lilia grinned wide, fangs peeking. “She’s just bleeding. Perfectly normal.”

Malleus stared. “She is injured?”

“Not at all! It’s called menstruation. Human thing. Happens monthly. A sign of fertility, actually-”

Lilia’s tone took a smug lilt as he leaned in, explaining the discomfort, the cramps, the sensitivity. How the body purged itself to make way for potential life. His expression shifted somewhere between fondness and arousal.

“Humans are adorable when they’re hormonal,” he mused. “You should see what a little massage can do. Or how needy they get when they’re touched the right way...”

Malleus stopped listening.

He didn’t need advice on how to lust after you. What he needed was a way to ease your discomfort, and perhaps selfishly, to understand this strange new rhythm of your body.

So, he offered you his magic.

A simple thing at first. Warm palms pressed against your lower belly while you lay atop his bed, eyes fluttering in drowsy relief. His hands moved in slow, soothing circles, his body curled around you like a protective wing. His lips brushed your neck between hums of an ancient lullaby.

You sighed. Melted.

You didn’t notice how low his hand had begun to drift.

By the time you did, his fingers were already parting you, sliding through the slick mess of blood and arousal between your thighs. You gasped, hips twitching, but you didn’t stop him.

Not when he murmured your name with such reverence. Not when his hand moved with care, slow and steady, the heel of his palm rocking gently against your clit.

And not when your orgasm left you trembling, boneless, and wet all over again.

Malleus’s breath caught as he pulled his fingers from you. Blood painted his knuckles, his wrist, the base of his hand. He lifted them to his mouth and tasted you like wine, tongue dragging slow along the curve of his own flesh.

The taste of your body on the brink of creation.

His cock ached.

Before you could shift, before you could close your legs or gather your thoughts, he was moving again. Strong hands pressed your thighs back toward your chest, baring you to him, already flushed and oversensitive.

“Malleus! wait-” Your words stuttered out, high and breathless. You tried to wiggle away, but he only growled, low and dark, the sound vibrating against your cunt as his mouth latched onto you.

Your blood coated his tongue. Your scent filled his lungs.

And he ate.

Ravenous, worshipful, almost desperate. Every moan you made, every twitch of your hips, only spurred him on. Your protests grew weaker as the heat built again in your gut, nerves shot and body buzzing.

He could feel it... the pulse of life inside you, the potential. The red river flowing from the womb that would one day swell with his children, carry his legacy, sing his name in every heartbeat it bore.

But not yet.

Not yet.

So he fed. And waited.

The scent hits him before he even rounds the corner.

Sweet, cloying, wet. Not perfume. Not sickness, either, not to his nose. No, this was instinctual. Fermented. Mewling.

You.

Rook pauses by the doorway to the infirmary, sharp eyes peeking just beyond the edge of the frame. You’re laid out messily on the cot, ears flattened, limbs twitching, your tail writhing helplessly against the sheets. The nurse had stepped out to gather something, likely unaware of what exactly they were treating. A fever, they'd said. Delirium.

Fools.

Your friend had brought you in, confused and a little grossed out by how you’d clung to them, whining, your words slurred and breathy, begging for something. You’d nuzzled into their hands, mumbled sweet nothings, tried to crawl into their lap. They hadn’t understood. They hadn’t seen.

But Rook had.

Of course he had. He always knew you better than the others.

It wasn’t illness. It was heat.

And how precious you looked in the thick of it. Sweat-slicked fur, flushed cheeks, drool on your chin, pupils blown wide with that foggy, unspeakable hunger. You couldn’t help yourself, could you? Poor, tender thing. Barely sentient. Barely holding on. All instincts and need. You should’ve been locked up the moment it started, but instead, you were here.

Alone.

With a hunter who’s been starving for you.

He slips in soundlessly, the click of the door lost beneath your soft little sobs. His gloves come off. His belt, loosened. His breath, calm. Calculated.

You blink up at him slowly. Eyes glassy. There’s a soft noise, the first sound of recognition, his name, maybe, or just a whimper shaped like it.

"Shhh," he hushes, already crawling over you like a shadow. "Je suis là. I’m here now."

You grab at him desperately. His shirt, his waist. You rut your hips up toward him, helpless and squirming, whining like you’re already halfway broken. There’s nothing human left in you right now, and oh, that’s what makes you perfect.

"You poor thing," he coos as he presses you down, grinding against the warmth between your thighs. “Look at how far gone you are. Have they not been tending to you properly?"

You cry out as he slides inside you. Wet, needy, no resistance. You’re already soaking through the sheets. He doesn’t bother to be gentle, you don’t want gentle. You want him. All of him.

Every thrust draws out more of your helpless little sounds, your body convulsing as you grip onto him like a lifeline. Your face is a mess: eyes leaking, lips bitten red, drool trailing freely down your cheek. And your nose, oh, mon dieu, it’s dripping too. But Rook doesn't flinch. No, he leans in and licks it all up like you’re the most sacred treat he’s ever been gifted.

It makes you keen. Your claws dig into his shoulders. You bare your teeth through the moans, the pleasure overtaking whatever little shame might’ve been there.

"Yes, yes, that’s it," he murmurs, words slurred against your ear as he ruts deeper. “You’re mine, petit animal. My darling little pet."

You nod, or maybe you just tremble, so far past words you can’t even think to disobey. He kisses your temple, your cheek, your wet lashes.

And then he finishes inside you.

The warmth floods your belly, and you jerk against him, overwhelmed. The scent of sex and sweat and his cologne wraps around you like a collar.

He doesn’t pull out.

Instead, he strokes your ears tenderly, smoothing the fur back from your face, admiring the mess he’s made of you.

"You’ll stay with me now," he whispers. “Won’t you?"

Your body shudders. You don’t answer.

But he knows.

You will.