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sister-lucifer · 8 hours

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Royal Courting: The King’s Summon

Chapter One

In which Lucian, a humble baker, meets two very interesting customers who seem to be more than meets the eye.

Content/Warnings: Original characters, slow burn, Medieval/Fantasy, charmingly mundane slices of life stuff, just fluff and character set up in this chapter, but if you like MLM Poly relationships you should stick around!

You can find the masterlist for this series (among others) in my pinned post!

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, USED COMMERCIALLY OR FED TO AN AI. IF YOU DO THIS I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND KILL YOU.

Not fully proofread! Please let me know if you catch any errors!

Lucian stretches out in his bed, groaning as his joints pop and his limbs wake up, readying themselves for the day. Begrudgingly he sits up, dirty blond hair tousled by his pillows in the night. He smooths it down as best he can with his fingers, but there’s not much he can do without the unforgiving bristles of a brush.

With a yawn he throws his legs over the side of his bed and slides his feet into his tattered slippers. He cracks his back for good measure, sighing and blowing a curly lock of hair from between his eyes. As the outside world slowly leaks into his sleep-addled brain, he recognizes the familiar sound of the jays chirping endlessly outside his window; a sure sign that it is, in fact, time to get up.

When he pushes himself out of bed and parts the old curtains hiding his chambers from the rest of the world, the sun is eager to cover his freckled face in its warm light. He blinks a few times to adjust, the blinding brightness of the morning slowly melting into a pleasant glow.

His shapeless pajama gown flows about his round body as he trudges to the bathroom, another yawn crawling up his throat as he comes into view in the mirror. His hair is flicked up in every which way, hazel eyes tired but not unhappy as he walks up to the sink, pudgy tummy bumping against it when he leans over to splash a bit of water on his face.

He feels much more awake than before once he’s dried his rosy cheeks and rubbed his eyes. He plucks his hairbrush from its holder and runs it briefly under the faucet before running it through his fawn tresses, only until the thatch of curls becomes presentable enough. No one’s going to be looking that hard, anyways.

The hairbrush clatters back into its holder and the toothbrush comes out instead. It too is run briefly under the water before being put to work, another step in the morning routine Lucian often finds himself repeating ad infinitum. Minutes later he’s back in his bedroom, rummaging through drawers for something that resembles a put together outfit. It doesn’t have to be perfect when it’s going to be covered with an apron all day.

He decides on brown trousers that are loose around the bottom and a comfortable, worn tunic that won’t get in the way with its flowing sleeves or make his binding garment too obvious. He slips his feet from his house slippers and instead into his trusted woolen-soled shoes, long since shaped to the arch of his feet after so many years.

He pauses to glance in the mirror, turning halfway just to make sure nothing has an obvious rip or tear in it. He adjusts his pants and the bottom of his shirt around the chub of his belly before ultimately deciding it’ll do.

He turns back to grab his mossy green, woolen sweater from the chair he draped it over the night before. The edges are fraying again, he notices, he’ll have to fix that when he has the time. He doesn’t mind it so much now, though, as his arms fit comfortably into the warm sleeves of the garment, thumbs skillfully avoiding getting caught on any of its unnoticed holes or the hasty stitching of its owner from decades prior. Lucian does take note, though, that the split in one side pocket is growing. He’ll have to fix that later, too.

When Lucian pushes open the door connecting his home with his bakery, the comforting, lingering smell of strawberry and buttercream greets him with vigor. It seems to permeate everything in his bakery, though he certainly doesn’t mind. This early the only ones out on the streets are stray dogs retreating to their hiding spots and children headed to the school building up the road.

He pulls the door open and props it with the stop, then flips the sign set up in the window:

Hensley’s is Open! Come on in!

“We’re open, everyone!” Lucian calls, not to anyone in particular.

The first preparations of the day are always the easiest.

First, he pulls his trusty apron from its rack and ties it behind his back, double knotting it just to make sure it’ll hold. Then he pulls the still-good loaves and pastries from yesterday that weren’t sold from their covered baskets, arranging them in his display in the particular way he can’t explain but can’t do without. When he’s satisfied with the results he moves on, giving a quick glance to the door before turning to his oven.

He grips the fire striker with less confidence than he should, his other hand tossing a few logs into the oven before grabbing his flint. As he strikes the stone and the spark sets the wood alight he resist the urge to scramble backwards despite the familiar heat on his knuckles. His back aches as he rises to his full height once more, setting the flint and striker back on their shelf.

He turns his attention to the plants in his windows next. He fills the can with the spout around the side of the bakery (it’s too bulky to fit into the little sink at his station, after all), dropping a bit of water on the wildflowers that bloom outside the building on his way back inside.

Slowly, the watering can’s spout moves over each pot, moved by a practiced hand that has done this countless mornings before. Only when the soil is thoroughly wet does he move on, cycling through one by one until all of his green children have had their fill and the can can be tucked neatly back into place in the cabinet.

Lucian pauses as he takes a look around his bakery. He stops and leans against the counter, taking a moment to admire the scene.

The morning sun comes in rays through the windows, sunning his plants and warming the wood floors. The spring breeze meanders through the open door and just barely rustles his hair about his round cheeks. The distant sound of horseshoes on the path and the other businesses opening their doors signals the awakening of a bustling town. The—

“Mr. Hensley! Mr. Hensley!”

Lucian turns quickly to the sound of clattering and a call of his name outside his bakery, followed shortly by a bleat of surprise. He has only a moment to process before his first arrival in standing in the doorway, his dark hair bouncing in sweet curls around his flushed face and little tail flicking quickly to and fro as he recovers from his crash, bike now laying against the side of the building.

“Oh, Callum,” Lucian sighs, rushing to the boy to brush the dirt from his sleeves, “You have to be careful! Your mother spent a lot of money on this uniform, there’s no telling how much that school will make her pay for another…”

The young faun only blinks up at him with wide blue eyes. He shakes some leaves from his unkempt hair and the fur of his ears before holding out the hot mug he’s brought with him, wrapped in a cloth to keep it from burning his hands.

“Here, Mr. Hensley. Your coffee.”

Lucian’s eyes soften as he takes the mug, removing the covering from the top and watching the steam rise.

“Thank you, Callum.”

The mug is set aside to cool for now, and Lucian quickly returns his attention to the faun boy who’s just collided with his bakery.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” He asks, plucking a stubborn twig from Callum’s nest of hair and rubbing over a scratch on the fresh nubs of his horns.

“No, I’m okay,” Callum replies quickly, brushing off his uniform jacket, “Just in a rush. I woke up late, that’s all. I grabbed my books and I was out the door, I didn’t even have to eat breakfast…”

“…Is that why you’ve left home without shoes?”

Callum pauses and looks down, groaning at the sight of his bare hooves on the wood floors.

“Aw, man! I’m gonna get an earful from the headmaster…”

Lucian feels a bit bad for giggling at the boy’s plight, but he can’t help it. He misses when his problems were that simple.

“You don’t have to bring me coffee every day, you know. I appreciate it, but I’ll survive without it,” Lucian assures him.

“Yeah, I know,” Callum replies with a shrug, absentmindedly toying with the leaves of one of Lucian’s plants, “But Ma says it’s a nice thing to do, especially since you don’t have magic.”

“Oh, well—“

“She says that making coffee ‘n’ stuff without magic takes a lot of time that you don’t have, since you have to work so hard and stuff. Is that true?”

“Er, y-yes, but—“

“She wonders how you do anything without magic, yanno. She says it’s really impressive that this place has stayed open so long when you—“

“Callum! I mean…I understand, Callum. Thank you. Here…”

Lucian takes a loaf of bread from his display, handing it to the boy with haste.

“Can’t have you going on an empty stomach. Run along, and quickly, you’re already running late.”

Callum takes the bread without hesitation, immediately digging in and thanking Lucian through a mouthful of it. In an instant he’s out the door and back on his bike, disappearing down the path. Lucian watches him go only until he’s sure he won’t crash once more.

Lucian sighs as the ache in his back starts to return. The day waits for no one, though, and he’s got work to do.

Throughout the day people pass through his bakery with leisure. Most are familiar, others are new but not unusual. The town of Lydell is a small one, after all. Not rich, but not too poor either, with a good part of its inhabitants planning bigger and better things for themselves and their families beyond the town limits. Every now and then he toys with that idea, that maybe one day he’ll pack himself up and move into one of the big, bustling cities he reads out in the books, with magic pouring from every brick in every wall on every street…

…Foolish imaginings, that’s all. He’s got far too much to do here.

He watches from behind his counter as the sun lazily rolls into place in the center of the sky. The cool breeze of the March morning melts into something warmer, though not suffocatingly hot. Every now and then Lucian must wipe the sweat from his brow after standing in front of his oven for too long, but ‘tis the price one pays for a fresh batch of strawberry turnovers.

Lucian looks up from the hot tray now cooling on the counter at the sound of a crackly meow.

There, in his doorway, a slim figure of a cat with milky white fur splotched with inky stains of black around the feet and tail. It rubs up against the door, mewing softly just to make sure its presence is known. It sits with a regal confidence, not at all perturbed by the people who pass through the door beside it.

“Well, look who decided to stop in today,” Lucian says with a chuckle. The cat meows in reply before lazily sauntering over to the counter.

“Give me just a moment, my dear. When I’ve gotten these customers taken care of I’ll get you your treat.”

The cat seems to understand. This is an exchange they have quite often, after all. With no collar to speak of and an insatiable desire to wander, the little animal is nearly an enigma to Lucian, but he’ll never complain about the company. For now he has to turn his attention to the lanky elf that is patiently awaiting his turn to speak.

By now Lucian can navigate customer interactions with little to no friction. No, he does not have those in a different flavor. Yes, he can make them in a different flavor, but they wouldn’t be ready until tomorrow. Yes, he can go ahead and get some bagged up anyways. No, he does not offer a discount. No, he really doesn’t offer a discount.

“Thank you, come again!”

Lucian sighs as the elf takes his leave, seemingly satisfied enough with the small bag of raspberry shortbread cookies.

He turns to look down at the little cat still waiting patiently by his feet. It blinks slowly, then meows. Lucian laughs and mimics the sound.

He then turns his attention to the cabinet beneath his sink. That’s where he keeps the little bowl and bag of dry food his feline companion loves so much. The cat meows excitedly, and Lucian can see it resisting the urge to hop up on the counter as he dumps the food into the bowl.

“Here, you’ve waited very patiently,” Lucian says as he sets the bowl on the floor, pushing it to the side where he can keep an eye on the cat without it being in his way when he walks around or behind the counter.

He looks back up and out the open door, only to squint in confusion as he tries to make sense of what he’s seeing.

It looks like two horses and their riders coming down the path, which wouldn’t be so odd if it weren’t for what Lucian could swear was the royal crest embroidered onto their side bags. The riders themselves are clad in varying degrees of armor, the metal clinking slowly getting louder as they approach the bakery.

Royal guards? Here? In a little town like Lydell?

Lucian quirks a brow as he watches them approach. He’s expecting them to simply pass by—they probably have important business to attend to, after all—but then one of them pauses. He pulls on the reigns of his horse, whistling and calling to his partner with words Lucian can’t make out from where he’s standing.

It’s clear now that they won’t simply be passing by. Before Lucian even realizes they’ve stopped their horses outside of the bakery, and now they’re hopping down from their saddles.

Now that they’re closer, Lucian can get a better look at them. They’re definitely guards, that’s for sure, and much taller and stronger than any human Lucian has met here in Lydell.

The first one is the shorter of the two, about 5’9, if Lucian were to guess. His skin is tan, a natural copper tone, and his curly hair is dark and thick, shaved underneath and left long on top. He’s smirking for some reason, the expression pressing dimples into his warm cheeks, though something about him makes it seem like he doesn’t need a reason. His eyes are sharp and foxy, the kind that notice little details about everything and everyone and leave others to feel uncomfortably analyzed. His armor is minimal, only a leather chest piece and gloves, and a few daggers are sheathed in his belt. He moves with a lithe swiftness as though he’s unaware of his own weight, hitting the ground without a moment’s stumble as he dismounts from his horse.

The second man isn’t nearly as graceful, but certainly isn’t to be taken lightly. He’s a hulking beast, 6’0 at least, perhaps 6’1, in a full suit of metal armor, save for the missing helmet. He’s paler than death, with long, golden blond hair that’s been lazily thrown back into a low, loose ponytail, leaving a few strands to dangle around his face. His long lashes are the same light color, hovering over icy blue eyes that give way to no emotion. Lucian can only see half his expression, as the bottom part of his face is covered with a dark neck gaiter. He comes down off his horse with a thud and a bit of metallic clinking, giving the animal a gentle pat. With a quick flick of his wrist and a skillful bit of magic he fastens the horses’ reigns to the post without touching them, and shortly after follows his companion inside.

“Woah, it smells amazing in here!” The shorter one exclaims, the pale one giving a nod of agreement in response, “I told you stopping was a good idea, I— Oh, look! They have strawberry turnovers!”

Lucian has to bite back a chuckle as he rushes up to the counter like an excitable child, fumbling around in his pockets for money.

“Two silvers each,” Lucian replies, “How many? And will you be staying, or should I get you a bag?”

“Six please, three for each of us, and, eh…we’ll stay!” The man replies, shrugging at his partner, “We could use the rest. We’re headed back to Bascilium from Nora.”

“Nora? Gods above, that’s far up north, what could possibly be so urgent the king felt the need to send his guards?” Lucian asked, not looking away from the two men as he moved to slip a few turnovers from their tray onto plates.

“Oh, you know, just a little farm worker’s uprising. Apparently people don’t like having their gifts of agricultural magic exploited to feed corporate bigwigs. Funny how that works!”

Lucian forces a laugh, although he’s not sure what’s funny. The taller one still hasn’t said a word, instead occupying himself by looking around the bakery.

“So, I take it you got it figured out, then?” Lucian asks, handing the plates over.

“Mhm!” The man replies with a grin, eagerly taking the plates and handing one to his colleague, “Well, as figured out as it can be for now. Things like this happen a lot in Nora with all the industrialization. King Ambrose is working on sending a few delegates down there to smooth out some of the systems. You know there’s—“

The man is swiftly cut off by an elbow to the ribs from his partner. He turns to question what the could have possibly been for, but the taller one gives only a one handed gesture in response. Sign language of some kind, if Lucian were to guess. Whatever he said, it puts the first man at ease.

“Ah, yeah, I’m rambling. Sorry about that, mister, uh…” He pauses, squinting to read Lucian’s name tag. “…Lucian. Hey, I like that name. I’m Tobias, Tobias Silva, and the guy I rode in with is Rex Theroux. I take it you’re the ‘Hensley’ that runs this place?”

“Yessir,” Lucian replies with a suddenly confident grin, “Lucian Hensley, that’s me. Forgive me for bragging, but this little place is my pride and joy.”

“Well then I’m glad we stopped in! Feels like this trip has us running all over Divestia.”

This earns a snort from Rex, and a few more signs that have an air of sass to them.

“Well, okay, yeah,” Tobias concedes, “It was my idea to take the scenic route through here, but it worked out well enough, didn’t it? You could never find good food this cheap in Bascilium. Oh, shit, I almost forgot—!”

He quickly dips his free hand into his pocket, pulling out a small pouch and setting it on the counter. He pulls out twelve silver coins and hands them to Lucian, who gladly accepts them and tucks them away into his drawer.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Silva.”

“Just Tobias is fine, don’t worry about it. We don’t really do formalities.”

“Oh, alright then. Thank you, Tobias. Enjoy your turnovers.”

Tobias gives a quick nod before gesturing for Rex to follow him to one of the little tables pushed up against the large windows of the bakery. Lucian finds himself smiling at the talkative young man and his silent, looming shadow; a charming pair, those two are. Perhaps that’s why Lucian finds himself glancing over at them as they eat despite his occupation with his work. Tobias’s chatter never ceases except for when he’s chewing, but at the same time his attention doesn’t waver from his silent partner when he signs a response. Tobias gestures widely as he speaks, threatening to knock over a plant or two when he gets particularly excited, whereas Rex keeps his movements sharp and controlled, a skilled hand showing his familiarity with the silent language he utilizes. The pair seem to get along with no issue despite the way their natures juxtapose one another, but then again, perhaps that’s what makes them so compatible.

Tobias and Rex sit and shoot the breeze for about an hour, maybe, having finished their turnovers halfway through but not realizing, or at least not caring. The sun has just barely rolled towards the west end of the sky, shadows now slanting under the light. The foot traffic around the bakery has slowed a bit, so Lucian has taken to wiping down his counter and empty tables. That is, until he looks up at the sound of his name.

“Hey, Lucian?” Tobias calls with a wave of his hand, “Can you come here for a sec?”

Lucian collects his rag and approaches the table Tobias and Rex have made themselves comfortable at, giving them a polite smile.

“Yes? Is something the matter?”

“Oh no, not at all,” Tobias is quick to reply, “Rex just wants to know about your plants, what kinda magic you’re using to keep ‘em looking this green.”

Lucian’s eyes turn to Rex, and he’s almost surprised to see his neck gaiter pushed down under his chin. He’s not sure why he’s surprised; how else was he supposed to eat? Or, perhaps, he’s simply surprised that his face is so unremarkable. Handsome, yes, but no scars or deformities, although Lucian doesn’t know why he expected there to be any. Maybe that’s simply the assumption one makes when another has their face covered for without obvious reason.

Wait, what was the question? Oh, right, the plants.

“I don’t use any magic, actually,” Lucian explains, suddenly feeling sheepish, “I, um…don’t have any.”

“Wait, what?” Tobias says, a bit louder than he meant to (a lot louder, actually; the sudden exclamation makes Rex wince a bit), “You run this whole damn place without magic? Wow, I mean, don’t get me wrong, that’s really impressive! I just can’t believe someone like you would— Ow!”

He’s promptly cut off once more with a smack on the arm and a sharp look from Rex. Tobias swipes his arm away and puts his hands up defensively.

“What? What I’d say? I didn’t deserve it that time!”

Lucian laughs softly behind his hand, unable to ignore Tobias’s natural dramatics.

“It’s alright,” He assures the two, “I get that sort of thing a lot. I admit, it is rather impressive, though I don’t like to gloat. As far as the plants go, it’s just a matter of keeping them watered and not letting the soil go dry.”

Rex considers his words, nodding and doing a brief gesture that almost resembles a salute.

“Oh, he says thank you,” Tobias clarifies.

“It’s no problem,” Lucian says, returning the courteous nod, “Can I take those plates from you?”

“Huh? Oh! Yes, please, we’ve really got to get going…thanks again, those were amazing. We’ll definitely be stopping by again.”

“Well, I’m very happy to hear that,” Lucian replied, unable to stop himself from grinning as his heart swelled with pride. He’d just bagged himself two more returning customers, and royal guards no less! Perhaps they’ll spread the word of this little place. Wishful thinking, maybe, but maybe not.

Rex and Tobias gather themselves and rise from their table as Lucian drops the plates into the sink. He returns a brief wave as they both walk out the door, Rex giving another salute before turning away; one last thank you, Lucian assumes.

He watches as the pair mount their horses once again, settling upon their saddles before heading off down the path.

“Interesting pair of characters, those two are,” Lucian mumbles to himself as he turns back to his work. The little cat, which has now moved to basking on the window sill, meows in what Lucian chooses to interpret as agreement.

The pair of guards arrive back to the castle at nightfall, the last few rays of sun allowing them to walk their horses back to the stables before they head in for the night.

First thing’s first: The king expects a full report.

Tobias doesn’t bother knocking, entering King Ambrose’s office with an incredible amount of casualness. He strides in with Rex, who at least has the decency to close the door back, following close behind him, as usual. Ambrose looks up from the papers he was studying, hard expression instantly melting away into a familiar smile.

“My boys,” Ambrose purrs, standing up from his chair and walking around the front of his desk, “You’ve finally returned.”

The guards nod in unison, and Tobias can’t stop himself from taking a moment to study his beautiful king. Ambrose is quite the stunning man after all; his skin is dark, as are his eyes, and his ebony hair is done up in locs so impossibly long they nearly brush the floor when he walks, decorated with gold cuffs and never less than perfectly maintained. His slim figure is draped in gold and white, as usual, for even a king’s most casual outfit is extravagant. He’s set his crown aside for now, as he usually does when working, but he has yet to remove the rest of his jewelry, as evidenced by the gold sparking on his wrists, fingers, ears and neck.

“So? How did it go? I assume well, seeing as you aren’t quite as disheveled as I’d expect from a failed attempt at quelling riots,” Ambrose teases as he hops up onto his desk, crossing his legs and making himself comfortable.

“It went very well, sir,” Tobias answers with a grin, “Things have been set straight, and a temporary peace agreement was reached to keep the people satisfied until your delegates arrive.”

“Very good, both of you,” Ambrose praises. Tobias’s grin only widens, and Rex signs a humble thank you.

“Oh, and,” Tobias eagerly adds, “On the way back we stopped in at this little bakery in Lydell, and—“

“Lydell?” Ambrose interrupts, “That’s quite a ways off the path back from Nora. What were you two doing there? Is that what took you so long?”

He’s trying to feign seriousness, but the playful quirk of his brow and hint of a chuckle in his voice gives away his humor.

“Mm, maybe,” Tobias says with a sly shrug, “But it was worth it. They had the best strawberry turnovers.”

‘Although T was far more interested in the man behind the counter,’ Rex signs, eyeing his colleague with a lighthearted sort of suspicion.

“I was not,” Tobias quickly protests, “And just how do you figure that, hm?”

‘You kept glancing over at him while you ate. I don’t think you realized you were doing it, but it was obvious to me. Maybe he liked it, though. He kept looking at us, too.’

Tobias huffs, crossing his arms and cursing his inability to pull an argument from thin air like usual. His cheeks are getting warm.

Ambrose laughs, hopping down from his desk and giving Tobias a reassuring pat on the arm.

“So, he was a cutie, huh?” Ambrose chortles, “What was he like?”

“Honestly, cute is an understatement,” Tobias replies, “He was this short, chubby little thing who looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. He was nice, too, and I know he has to be nice to us because, you know, we’re customers, but still. And, I mean, how can you not be interested in someone who makes such heavenly strawberry turnovers?”

“If they’re that good, I shall have to try them some time. See what all the fuss is about. Maybe I’ll have a chance to meet this little baker crush of yours as well.”

“Oh, come on…!”

Ambrose laughs again, unable to stop himself. For a moment Tobias swears he can even see a smile make Rex’s eyes crinkle at the edges despite being hidden by his neck gaiter.

“Well, either way,” Ambrose coos, reaching up to gently cup his guards’ chins in his hands, “You’ve both done very well. Come here.”

Tobias rolls his eyes, but nevertheless they both lean in, allowing their king to give them each a brief kiss on the cheek.

“Good boys. Go on now, you need your rest after such a long trip,” Ambrose says with a wave of his hand before returning to his seat at his desk.

His guards bow briefly, all three of them exchanging well wishes and good nights before the door is shut again, leaving Ambrose alone in his study.

“Cute little baker indeed,” The king mumbles with a laugh, “I’m sure they’ll be going back there…if Tobias has anything to say about it, at least…”

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Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

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sister-lucifer · 9 hours

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Of Crows & Cats

{𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼}: Neko!M!Reader x Sebastian Michaelis

{𝓓𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓻𝓲𝓹𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷}: After a long days work around the manner - and of avoiding the Master in (y/n)’s case - both come back to their shared room to spend some ”quality time” together~

{𝓣𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓼}: Bondage, gag, praise, sub!bottom!Sebastian, dom!top,Reader, Neko!Reader, Porn with plot (slightly), Sebastian gets called whore once(1)

"The Young Master asked to try something new today Sebs. Lady Grey, he said."

Sebastian groaned under his breath, walking hastily through the kitchen after seizing the kitchen from Baldroy who, yet again, tried to set the oven alight to get dinner done just the slightest bit faster.

Today seemed to just not be the greatest. Finnian choose to use weed killer instead of the nutrients just recently bought, killing nearly the whole garden. Mey-rin tripped over every possible surface available, and spilled literally anything given to her. The only competent person at the moment, was you.

Sebastian's faithful partner of a few years now. Having found you when you were left on the streets, mere weeks after his initial summoning. Small and scraggly, those were the words he used to describe you. But when you looked up and he noticed those pert little cat ears and dirty-yet-fluffy tail of yours... he just couldn't resist.

Now here you both were, him elbows deep in dishes as he allowed you to restart the tea and keep watch on the dinner the demon has started only a while before.

Placing the kettle down on the fire, you turned to Sebastian. Walking behind him, you wrapped your much larger arms around his waist, him only grunting in response.

"You're real tired, huh Sebs?" Sebastian only strained a smile in response, blowing a small piece of hair out of his face.

"Not tired, dear. Demons such as myself don't get tired from things as trivial as these." You rested your chin on his head, ears twitching and tail flicking. You squeezed him closer as he washed diligently, pressing your pelvis to his ass, rubbing your clothed dick against him.

"Then I guess... annoyed? Would that be right?" Sebastian sighed and continued to wash, trying to ignore you pressed against him, though you could tell he was silently giving in, relaxing in your grip. You took your head off his head and pressed into his neck, smiling and nipping at his neck.

"You want me to help you relax, kitten?~" He was quiet, but you felt a small nod come from the other, his ass pressing back into you. You purred and your tail began to lightly wag.

"Let's finish up, and then tonight you'll be all mine.~"

·:¨༺ ♱✮¨:·ᨐฅ ᨐᵐᵉᵒʷ·:¨✮♱ ༻¨:·˚─── ⋆⋅⛥⋅⋆ ──

The moon shone through the hazy curtains of the room, illuminating it in silver lighting. The bed in the center of the room cast under the glow of few candles, to figures perched on top of it.

“There, my sweet kitty?~”

Your voice purred out, only to be met by the muffled groans of the esteemed butler of the Phantomhive manor. Hair slicked back by sweat, Sebastian’s thin form was caged in by your much larger and bulkier body. Sebastian was tied up in thick red ropes with his hands attached to the headboard and his legs forced apart by your knee with his thighs tied to his calves. A random piece of fabric - most likely a pair of underwear- was shoved and tied into the demons mouth.

Ears twitching and large fluffy tail swished gleefully at the state of the demon below him. Fingers slicked with spit plunged in and out of the crow at a rapid pace, forcing crude but soft whimpers to leave his throat.

“So vocal… such a good little kitty cat you are, Sebs.~”

Sebastian’s tear filled eyes met yours above his. A small smile is what he was met with, before the fingers inside him finally kissed his prostate.

“MPHF?!-“ “Shhh…” A kiss was laid to the fabric gag in his mouth, the fingers then began to jab that bundle of nerves dead on over and over again, ripping muffled moans from Sebastian, pushing him to the edge-

Before snatching it away from him. Your fingers tore their way out from his partially ruined hole, his cock dripping with pre. Heavy breaths and small whines came from him as you giggled lightly, moving your hands around Sebastian’s head and undoing the gag, rubbing the others jaw slightly.

“Please.. please just put it in me! Fill me up, fill me till I can’t breathe- I can’t take this anymore oh please, my dear, please (Y/n)!-“ Your tail flickered upward as the man below you started begging.

“Of course Seb’s. Gotta make my nice lil’ kitty feel all good for tomorrow.~” You spat into your hand, before offering it to Sebastian, who pathetically tried to spit but ended up drooling into your hand instead. Another small giggle erupted from you, who then wrapped the spit laden hand around your rock-solid cock - which was a solid 8in tall with the girth of a wine bottle, it even had barbs on the base. Much like your body - which was on the hairier side - a thick happy trail covered the base of your stomach, and the base of your dick.

Nails that were usually retracted clawed their way into Sebastian’s back, his teeth clenching as he harshly sucked in air.

“Hehe, such a pretty kitty, all for me… only I get to see you like this, right?”

Sebastian nodded hurriedly.

“Yes, yes, only you! Only you get to see me like this, please put it in please please please-“

With one final chuckle, you grabbed Sebastian’s waist and slammed your cock into the latter’s awaiting hole, tears finally spilling from Sebastian’s eyes as his bit down on his lower lip, immediately drawing blood.

“GUH!! MMM THANK YOU!-“ Sebastian screamed as you plunged in and out of his warmth. Gummy walls clenched around your girth as you pumped into him, pre leaking faster from Sebastian’s dick. His loud whines and sobs echoed through the room you both were in.

“Shhh Seb’s, don’t want the Young Master waking up and hearing how much of a whore you are for my dick, right?~” You muttered into the crying ravenette’s ear, causing him to nod rapidly, biting back down on his lip to silence his moans. Though, you took a hand off his hip and pushed his teeth from his lip, massaging his tongue with your thumb. Then, you leaned down and met his lips with yours.

You swallowed his moans as you continued to thrust into him, slipping your long tongue down his throat. Thanks to his lack of a gag reflex, you got to feel his throat fully, his pants and moans filling your mouth and mind. You separated, a line of drool connecting you.

You took the time to examine to beautiful man below you as he mewled out for his touch. Tongue out and eyes rolled back as sweat shined in the glow of candle light. Hands gripping the rope that kept him attached to the headboard and toes curled. You could tell he was trying to minimize his moans by those little whimpers and quiet sobs he let out through pinched lips.

“S-slow down… you’re g-going to f-UNGH-fast!-“ You barely noticed you had sped up as you stared at him. His cheeks were painted red as drool slipped from him lips. You smiled and kissed his forehead in apology. You ran a hand up and down his side as you leaned over and whispered praises into Sebastian’s ear, causing more whimpers and held back moans to erupt from his throat.

Quick kisses landed on his collar bone - right below where his collar would lay tomorrow - that eventually turned to you harshly sucking hickies onto his pale skin. Your ears perked up at the sounds of his breathing picking up, a grin on your face as you continued your ministrations.

“Oh my- Ffffuckkkk!- Please let me cum please please let me- NGH- cum oh please my dear- (Y/n) please please-“ Sebastian cried out. His hands gripped the rope holding them together and you watched as the rope began to give way due to his strength. With a playful sigh and a wipe of your forehead, you pulled out until only your tip rested inside him, then slammed your cock into Sebastian who let out a short scream. You nailed his prostate head on, jackhammering into him.

Sebastian watched on in awe and lust as your muscles flexed above him as you pounded into him and you bared your fangs in concentration, the bed noticeably creaking under the movement. Your hands moved up from his waist, nails ripping the rope holding his hands, and entwining your hands together. Your face was above his, teeth clenched in concentration as his moans reached a higher and higher pitch. At this point you couldn’t care less about anyone else hearing you, all you wanted was to make sure Sebastian felt good.

“I’m cumming (Y/n), oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck shIT- CUMMING!!-“ Sebastian’s back arched into your body, white painting his and your torso. A hand landed in his hair as you shushed him, still thrusting hard. He groaned in overstimulation, but you shushed him with another kiss.

“I’m almost there Sebs hold on… just a- few more-“ Your thrusts became harsher for a moment before the demon could feel you seed fill his insides. You thrust a few more times, coming down from your high. You sighed as you laid on your side, still inside your partner, you pulled him into your chest, humming in content.

“Are you alright, Sebs?” You asked, wrapping your hands around his waist as he wrapped his arms around your neck.

“Yes… though, I would like these ropes off my legs, now.” Your eyes widened, and with a quick apology your nails tore through the rope and began to gently massage his legs, Sebastian letting a sigh of relief.

Your cock finally slipped out of his abused hole, cum spilling from him while he groaned.

“Dear, if we don’t want to sleep in your semen, I recommend we get up and clean ourselves now.” Sebastian mused, though you only groaned and nuzzled into his chest. He looked down only to be met with your best “wet-cat” eyes, as you called them.

“Just a little bit..? I don’t feel like moving right now…” You whined. If you were any other being, you’d have been shoved onto the floor by now. But Sebastian’s soft spot for cats - and therefore you - made him only sigh and run a hand through your hair, smiling at the sound of your purring filling the room.

“Fine then. Thirty minutes.” You let out a soft cheer, grabbing the covers and wrapping them around the two of you and snuggling into his chest, purring only growing in size.

You missed him with all the work you both had recently gotten, and you could tell he missed you too, even if he didn't say it. He smiled and hugged you, pushing his head into your hair.

“Goodnight, kitten.~” Sebastian immediately lightly punched your head, causing a yowl to escape your lips.

… Yeah. He loved you.

{𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓼}: Hello, this is my first ever NSFW work, and I hope that I have delivered. I hope to only improve as time goes on. Thank you for reading.

- 🖋️

All publishings on this account belong to @fountain-pen-anon. I do not authorize my fics being altered, translated, stolen or published/reposted to other sites, thank you.

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