post #23
TL;DR RULES
1. post anonymously unless linking to a fill posted somewhere else
2. use the subject line to indicate pairing (in alphabetical order using stage names i.e.baekhyun/chanyeol) prompt details go in the comment.
3. use necessary content warnings
4. do not embed on meme. link to images/videos. label nsfw content.
5. do not repost prompts ( Read more... )
1. post anonymously unless linking to a fill posted somewhere else
2. use the subject line to indicate pairing (in alphabetical order using stage names i.e.baekhyun/chanyeol) prompt details go in the comment.
3. use necessary content warnings
4. do not embed on meme. link to images/videos. label nsfw content.
5. do not repost prompts ( Read more... )
The cat's breath catches, fear Wufan can almost smell. Then, defiance.
"You'll do it anyway", the cat rasps, hoarse, like bright-eyed, skinny cats slinking in and out of the scrapyard, squeezing between piles of junk. It's starved and sweet, and Wufan will cage it up like a bird and hang it from his ceiling. Make it sing every night.
"Yes," Wufan agrees. He doesn't bother hiding how rough his voice goes, like the creaking of metal before the whole heap shifts and swamps the yard in a tumbling landslide. He can't stop the soft rock of his hips, the proprietary slide in the cleft of the cat's ass. "Many times," he promises.
This time, when the cat bucks up against him, Wufan doesn't stop it. He lets it shake him off, rolling easily onto his back as the cat shoots for the door.
To the tune of the cat's - scratching, desperate pleas at the door, Wufan shucks off his shirt. He tosses it over the cot - it'll be good to have something to keep his scent and come on later, so the cat can have clean sheets after they're done and still have a reminder of him. Wufan's sentimental like that. His pants go easily, under the bed.
Wufan's so hard he has to get up carefully. Even the slightly cold room doesn't lower his flag any.
"Hey," he says to the cat, who's starting on the window now. "Hey - you're going to hurt yourself," he chides. He slaps a hand against his side, reminding himself not to fist himself. He's so hard, it'll be over too soon, and he has to make this good for the cat.
It's almost laughably to haul the hissing, spitting kitten up. It barely comes up to his chest. The clothes go easily, also under the bed (Wufan is neat like that).
"Bed," Wufan says firmly. And over the side of the bed, maybe, and the window yes, the kitchen table, he can see the cat, wide-eyed, spitted on his cock, sinking inexorably by his own weight down, but that can come later and Wufan has to focus. Now.
The cat spits in his face.
"That's naughty," Wufan comments, almost idly. He sits back down on the bed, the cat in his lap. "I'd spank you, yes, anytime you want," he promises. He kisses the base of the cat's ear, opens his mouth to tongue it thoroughly. He runs it over the short, bristled fur of the cat's ear. The two triangles sit neatly up on the top of his otherwise human head, so that's convenient. The cat wails, tries to bite his cry off but can't.
"Don't", the cat tries, but it's half-moaning, so Wufan must be doing something right. His hand slips down to the cat's tail, takes the base and gives it a firm caress.
The cat's hips jerk. He twists his head around, eyes wide, bright with a sheen of tears.
"Ain't noone do that for you before?" Wufan murmurs. He licks the other ear from base to tip, open-mouthed, and the cat whimpers.
"Oh, baby," Wufan says fondly. There's so much to teach him.
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