Mollymauk: you okay there little darling? You seem to be gawking a lot that if you do it any longer I fear you’ll catch flies.
You: I’m not gawking…not even a little bit or at all, you must be talking about someone else…definitely someone else…not me.
Mollymauk: was that meant to convince me? I’m sure you can do better than that. *leans towards you with a smirk*
You: I was looking at a bird? You just so happened to be in the way that’s all.
Mollymauk: hmmm I’ll let you off the hook for now, but next time I won’t let you get away so easily from me. *leaves, though not before letting his hand run down your arm, lingering there a bit*
You: that was close.
Jester: close? He could practically smell your attraction to him like you were a animal in heat.
The party just decided to take a break from traveling, and unsurprisingly, the initiative for this stop came from Jester. ¯\_( ͠° ͟ʖ °͠ )_/¯
Y/n: *twirls a small flower with a slight smile, a gift from Molly just seconds ago.* "Thank you, sweet thing," *and then pecked him on the lips.*
Molly: *yielding to your touch, his face nuzzled into the curve of your neck, his tiefling tail swaying slightly behind him, his warm horns barely grazing your skin.* "Anything for you, my treasure..."
Jester: *was scribbling something in her notebook, occasionally throwing quick but increasingly suspicious glances in your direction, with a strange smile—thoughtful, or perhaps anticipatory.*
Beau: *simply walking behind Jester, her gaze inadvertently dropped to the sketches. Her sharp, battle-trained eye instantly registered the discrepancy: instead of trees or were-mushrooms, the paper held lines forming into very... explicit shapes. Her eyes widened to their limit, her face contorting into a grimace of pure, unadulterated shock and disgust.* "GODS, EW!" *Her shriek tore through the evening's peace, scaring a couple of birds off a nearby pine.* "YOU FUCKING PERVERT!"
Caleb: *dropped his spellbook.*
Fjord: *whirled around, hand already on his sword hilt.*
Nott: *nearly choked on her flask.*
Molly: *lifted his head from your neck, raising an eyebrow in surprise.*
Jester: *reluctantly snapping her notebook shut in her hands,* "It's just art. You wouldn't understand," *she retorted, sticking her nose in the air, her tail twitching nervously.* "With your military... linear thinking, you could never grasp the complexity of capturing... um... the dynamics of (Any race in the D&D world) —and tiefling!—forms in motion!"
Beau: "ART?!" *She seemed ready to throw a punch any second. Her finger was now pointed at you and Molly.* "THAT'S JUST GODS-DAMNED PORNOGRAPHY, AND THEY'RE RIGHT THERE, AND YOU... AARGH!" *She grabbed her head.*
hey pookie hope you are feeling better !! *casts Lesser Restoration and gives u too many goodberries*
If you are willing, I would love your thoughts on some sfw and/or nsfw hc's for mollymauk x chubby!reader 🤭🫦
thank youhuuu :3
I’m FINALLY posting this because it got uh…outta hand and it’s a bit longer than I intended but MORE MOLLYMAUK FOR EVERYONE!!
Mollymauk headcanons x chubby! reader
SFW
When I tell you that this teifling does NOT care about some extra weight on your body I mean it
Reassures you constantly that he truly loves YOU for YOU
Has had his fair share of partners so it does seem pretty daunting when you finally confess but the reciprocation was much worth it!
Cuddler! This guy LOVES to be physically attached to you in some way!
Not in an annoying way but in light touches to your waist with his hands or tail, holding you with his chin resting on the tip of your head while the group decides their next move. Little things like kissing your hand when you get back from shopping with Jester & Nott
Speaking of which, if ANYONE (obv not the nein because they’re all awesome people) says ANYTHING about what you look like, Molly is a witty guy and will absolutely say something “oh you’ve got eyes but alas, they can’t see what beauty looks like because your head is stuck in your arse.”
Now will he talk to you first? Yes, he’s more concerned with his partner not others; “Just try to ignore them love, they’re not worth our effort.”
Molly is not one to stray away from expressing himself so he will absolutely always say how much he loves you, thinks you’re beautiful, and cherishes you DAILY!
Is a massive flirt and that doesn’t stop when the relationship starts. After a battle he’s sure to say something after making sure you’re safe. “Gods above, I had no clue you could be so stunning!”
Gives that face where he thinks you’ve put the sun itself in the sky just for him😩 I love him somethin BAD can ya tell?
NSFW
LETS GET FREAKYYY!!
Molly’s a hands on guy, he will grab and grope you the whole time
Foreplay is his specialty, he is very much a tease and to make you blush why that’s his favorite color on ya
Not afraid to be the bottom my friend! So go ahead, peg him I promise he’ll enjoy himself and even more so if you are as well
That’s not to say he doesn’t know how to be the flirtiest, sweetest, silver tongued top he can be as well
Molly is absolutely an ‘I can do it all’ typa lover and it SHOWS! Acts of service, talkin ya through it when you climb on top? You name it!
Speaking of talkin ya through it ohhh the accent gets thicker and with whispers😩
Not afraid to tell it like it is either “ohhh yeah. Right there, lovey, thank you” “oh ya like that? Lemme give ya more huh?” “climb on top, mmmhmm, that’s it love.”
Sit. On. His. Face! He could CARE LESS if he dies in the process babes, it was doin something he loves and is GOOD AT!!! I mean the forked tongue? Yeaaahh
Pull the horns mama you know you want to! And oh he liiiiikes it~
“Mmmm yeah, grabbing me by the horns huh?” He sucks in air when you do, “right as I’m pushin into ya? That’s when you grab em? Better now than never I suppose- ahh…mmm”
A GROANER😮💨 oh and the sounds are just sooo pretty!
Speaking of which, call him beautiful/pretty/handsome and he’s gone. I blame his bit of ego but like it’s not wrong😏
Oh I can and will (in a separate post) go on about the tail! Uses it and does it right!! “You like it when I flick your nipples with my tail huh?” With the smuggest grin
Pull his hair, he’ll pull yours too. Win win for everyone!
Oh also, totally down for ménage trois or even more people because ya know open communication and the more the merrier
Lowkey I think he could be in a committed relationship and still wanna watch his s/o get her shit rocked by another man too
Especially when you’ve been insecure lately about your size and he just has someone else come into the bedroom with you both, “see darlin’ I told ya I’m not the only one who can handle ya. Just need to find the right ones”
Will also be thrilled if you watch HIM get fucked too🥵
Fucking in front of a mirror and speaking affirmations to each other! Yesss tantric, slow, absolutely the most sensual thing you’ll ever experience!!
Molly would absolutely lay the coat down to make love to you in a forest on a summer night under the stars!
WARNINGS: references to past emotional abuse/parental neglect; past sex work (non-explicit); canon-typical chaos, alcohol consumption; mild sexual content/suggestiveness.
TAGS: alternate universe - canon divergence, backstory, fluff and angst, slow burn, found family, hurt/comfort, pre-relationship to relationship, the mighty neigh,
SUMMARY: Long before the Mighty Nein, Mollymauk found fleeting solace in a dingy tavern with you—a quiet half-tabaxi trying to disappear. What began as a night of distraction became an unexpected anchor.
Smoke from cheap candles and strong tobacco hung in the air of the "Last Port" tavern like a thick, grey haze. Here, on the outskirts of Trostenwald, near the Wild Mountains, those who had nowhere else to go stopped. Or those seeking easy diversion on their way to somewhere else.
Mollymauk Tealeaf, then just Molly, a new favourite of "Fletching & Moondrop's Traveling Carnival of Curiosities," entered seeking just that—easy, no-strings-attached diversion. His violet skin, ram's horns, and dazzlingly bright, though slightly worn, doublet drew every eye. But his red eyes, habitually scanning the room, sought only one—someone to brighten a dull evening between performances.
His attention was caught by you. Not the loudest, not the brightest. You sat in a corner, as if trying to dissolve into the shadows, but your posture, a strange grace in every movement, betrayed something wild, caught in a cage. He approached, ordered wine you didn't ask for, and smiled that smile of his that struck like a blade.
That night, he came for simple pleasure. But something else remained. An awkward silence after passion faded, and you, turned towards the wall, trying to hide the tremble in your shoulders. He, contrary to his usual "leave by dawn" rule, stayed. Not holding you, just... being there.
Once, when you, catlike, stretched after sleep and his fingers idly played with your hair (an inherited tabaxi-father habit of purring with contentment made itself known), he asked a question:
"And your parents, who are they?"
"My mother is human," you answered, looking away. "And my father, as far as I recall... was a tabaxi. In passing. No name, no face."
"Now I see," Molly said quietly, and his voice held something resembling understanding. His hand gently stroked your head, behind your ear, and you involuntarily leaned into the touch like a sunbeam. "That explains your catlike habits. And this incredible softness."
"For a tiefling consorting with a courtesan, you are... incredibly kind to me," you breathed, surprising yourself with your own words.
"Oh, darling, kindness is merely good manners. But genuine interest... now that's a rarity. Like you."
He started coming again. Not every day, but often. Not only at night. Sometimes just to talk, to see how you lived in that cage of beer stench and crude jokes. He told tales of the carnival, of magicians and strongmen, of Desmond and Gustav, of the old fortune-teller, Lester, who taught him to read fates in cards. And you told your stories. Of a mother who hated you as a living reminder of her own mistake, of an ill-fated passion for a wandering tabaxi that ended with your birth. Of a life where the choice was between obedience and beatings.
It was he who planted the seed of an idea, like a clever trick.
"Run away," he said one day, tucking a few silver coins into the folds of your dress. "The carnival has no fixed address, but I have friends in other cities. A tiefling woman in Nicodranas... her daughter, Jester, a merry little beast. They will help."
The decisive conversation with your mother was short and venomous.
"You will never be more than a pathetic whore!" she hissed, grabbing your arm.
"Says the woman who bedded a nobody and gave birth to a half-breed!" burst from you for the first time. For the first time, you saw not anger, but shock in her eyes. It was enough.
You fled that same night. First to Nicodranas, to Marion Lavorre, "The Ruby of the Sea." Through her, you indeed met the young, hyperactive Jester, who immediately accepted you as a sister in misfortune and in spirit. Marion gave you shelter and, more importantly, taught you not just to survive, but to live—to find beauty in herbs, in stitches, in simple things. From her, you learned the art of herbalism and the basics of sewing. Later, with her help, you moved to a quieter region, bought a small house with a workshop, and began a new life. You became a seamstress and herbalist, not a courtesan. Molly visited when the carnival was nearby. Your meetings were islands of bright, reckless color in your new, measured life. He was the wind, and you were the rooted tree, and you learned to exist in this contrast.
And then the carnival was gone. You received a confusing, fragmentary letter, either from Molly herself, but unsigned, or from a stranger, saying things like "something terrible happened," "Molly is gone," and "everything burned down." And the wind in your life died, leaving only a quiet, aching void.
WARNINGS: explicit scenes; power dynamics and boundary exploration; psychological discomfort; fantasy violence references; species‑specific physiology
TAGS: fantasy, romance, drama, tiefling, Critical Role, The Mighty Nein
SUMMARY: after the Mighty Nein mission, Molly and the reader are left alone in a twilight room
They were alone after a mission of the Mighty Nein. The room smelled of dust and cooled‑down potions; outside the window, the crimson sunset of Wildemount was fading.
Molly stood close. His lavender skin shimmered in the half‑light, and his red eyes, like two embers, watched her. His curled horns, adorned with piercings — silver rings and tiny sapphires — trembled slightly with every movement. Two swords still hung at his belt; a small pouch swayed at his hip.
His bright clothing, embroidered with religious symbols, rustled with every turn. Thin scars from blood rituals marked his neck, chest, and arms. Between his shoulder blades, rising toward his hairline, glowed a tattoo: an eye within a pyramid, illuminated from above by a second eye. On either side — the moon and the sun, eternal opposites.
His hand slid between your legs — confident, but without haste. You flinched, yet didn’t pull away.
“Damn it…” you let out with a soft moan. “Be more careful! I’m not some tavern girl!”
He smirked. His forked tongue flickered between his lips.
“True, not a girl,” he whispered, leaning closer. “They don’t clench so sweetly. And such sounds don’t escape their lips.”
His tail — flexible, with a dark stripe along its ridge — gently coiled around your thigh and softly parted your legs. You felt the warmth of his body and the scent of incense clinging to his clothes.
Your fingers dug into the edge of the table. Your gaze drifted over his scars, tattoos, horns. At his right temple, nearly hidden by his hair, glimmered a small eye tattoo.
“You…” you swallowed, “are too sure of yourself.”
“And you’re too tense,” his voice wrapped around you like smoke. “Relax. Or are you afraid someone might hear?”
You drew in a sharp breath as his fingers found their rhythm. Outside, distant thunder rumbled, echoing your inner chaos.
“If… if someone sees…” you whispered, but your body betrayed your words.
“No one will see,” he pressed his lips to your neck. “Only me. Only now.”
Your palm covered his hand — not pushing him away, but not encouraging him either. A fragile truce, as hot as flame.
TAGS: Jokes and humor, Soft language, Accidental intoxication, Tifling antics, Established flirting, Family vibes, Drunken confessions (hallucinogenic variety), Caring for sick friends (Under the influence), Late night. Visitors
SUMMARY: The night silence is broken by an insistent knock on the door. You open it and find Mollimauke Tillyf, Jester, and four other very worried adventurers on your doorstep, fleeing a "minor misunderstanding" involving a stolen amulet and an angry merchant guild.
PROLOGUE: THE "LAST PORT" TAVERN
The silence of the night was torn apart by a persistent knocking at the door. Slowly, stretching, you approached and opened it. On the threshold, bathed in moonlight, stood six figures. Two of them you recognized instantly.
At the front, with a characteristic languid smirk, stood Mollymauk Tealeaf – a purple-skinned genderfluid tiefling in his dazzlingly bright coat. His ram-like horns were adorned with new delicate rings, and his red eyes gleamed with a familiar mischievous spark. Slightly behind, shivering from the night chill and shifting from foot to foot, was Jester – a blue-haired tiefling in her usual dress, her freckled face illuminated by a wide, expectant smile.
But behind them loomed other silhouettes. Your gaze swept over the strangers: a red-haired human with sad blue eyes and a worn cloak; a tall green-skinned half-orc with scars on his face and a wary look; a small figure in a hood, beneath which a yellow eye glinted; and a muscular woman with a chestnut bun and multiple piercings, whose posture radiated readiness for battle even on a welcoming threshold.
"What the hell...?" you breathed, narrowing your eyes and pulling your thin silk nightgown tighter around yourself. The neckline and lace inserts on the chest suddenly felt far too revealing for such a gathering.
Molly, without waiting for an invitation, stepped inside with his usual elegance, his tail with a spatulate tip gliding smoothly along the doorframe.
"Darling, apologies for the late visit," his velvety voice rolled out. "But we've had a tiny, entirely insignificant little adventure that required immediate disappearance. And your doorstep seemed the most hospitable within twenty miles."
The others, somewhat hesitantly, followed him.
The red-haired man — Caleb Widogast — nodded politely, but his gaze lingered for a second on your attire.
"You have... a rather specific look for greeting unexpected guests, fräulein," he remarked, blushing slightly.
You made a slight, barely perceptible movement, as if about to slip a strap off your shoulder.
"I can take it off if I'm making you uncomfortable," you said with feigned innocence.
A chorus of objections arose: "No!", "That's not necessary!", "Please don't!" Molly bit his lip to keep from laughing, while Jester giggled into her hands.
"Alright, alright, I won't," you gave in, smiling. "Though I'm sure some in your company clearly enjoy the view." You gave a meaningful wink toward Molly, who responded with a languid look.
"Oh, believe me, darling, I always appreciate beauty," he parried, playing with the tip of his tail.
"Tieflings!" you exclaimed with exaggerated sigh, turning to the others. "Always obsessed with physical charms. Their own and others'. Ready to discuss them for hours on end!"
Beauregard only rolled her eyes, demonstratively crossing her arms over her chest.
"We have, just so you know, a potential pursuit on our heels, and you're talking about... aesthetics."
Caleb frowned slightly, lost in thought. Nott, the goblin, was already thoroughly examining the room, clearly looking for something shiny. Fjord, the half-orc, merely raised one eyebrow inquiringly, his yellow eyes with vertical pupils expressing polite bewilderment.
"And as for you, unfamiliar half-orc," you continued, pointing at Fjord, "you are, without knowing it, the subject of tender and quite... detailed fantasies of my tiefling friend." You nodded toward Jester, who instantly turned as red as her hair.
"So, if you're planning to stay, I suggest you get used to very intimate topics over breakfast."
"Oh," was all Fjord managed to utter, looking from the fidgeting, embarrassed Jester to you.
At that moment, Molly, who had already gotten a closer look at you, stepped forward. His attention was caught by your hand resting on the back of a chair.
"Wait a moment, what do we have here?" He gently but insistently took your right hand in his, turning it palm up. His fingers touched the pad of your thumb, where a new, small, neat freckle was clearly visible. "A completely new spot. It wasn't there before. I would definitely have remembered."
His touch was warm, his gaze intrigued. Jester, forgetting her embarrassment, instantly bounded over, peering eagerly.
"Oh, you're right! What a lovely little dot, like a button! When did it appear? Does it itch? It's so interesting when something new appears on the body!"
You felt heat rising to your cheeks under the intense scrutiny of the two tieflings. The other members of the Mighty Nein exchanged glances. Beau snorted, but a smile twitched at the corner of her mouth. Caleb turned away, pretending to study the bookshelf, while Fjord and Nott shared looks full of silent questioning: "And this is the safe haven Molly was talking about?"
But Molly didn't let go of your hand, running his thumb over the freckle.
"You know," he said quietly, so only you could hear, "I collect such moments. Such small, intimate details. And this new little piece of you... it's delightful."
The relationship between you had always been a game — flirting, a dance on the edge. But in moments like this, amidst the chaos he brought with him, his words carried genuine, warm tenderness. And you understood that despite all this crazy company on your doorstep, you were still glad to see him. Even if he had brought an entire circus along.
"Thank you," you replied just as quietly. "But, darling, before you continue collecting, maybe you could explain who or what you're running away from? And why I'm currently receiving an entire party of adventurers in my nightgown?"
Molly turned to his team with a radiant, guilty smile.
"Ah, yes, that's... a small story about a misunderstanding with the local merchants' guild and a magical amulet that, as it turned out, wasn't magical at all, but very much stolen... But that's a completely different story! Don't start arranging chairs so menacingly, Beau, we're guests!"
A pause hung in the room after Molly's question. You, still feeling the chill of the night and the stares of strangers, sighed and walked deeper into the room, toward a large worktable cluttered with fabric scraps, thread spools, and dried herb bundles hanging from the ceiling.
"The story can wait. First — basic survival rules in my workshop," you said, turning to face them. The silk of your nightgown rustled softly as you moved. "I don't know what you've been through, but in here, we don't yank at threads, we don't shoot fireballs, and we don't draw daggers unless absolutely necessary. Understood?"
Your gaze swept over Caleb, whose hand instinctively reached toward the components at his belt, and Beau, whose posture was still somewhat battle-ready.
"We will... try, fräulein," Caleb muttered, lowering his hand.
"Good."
Then your gaze fell on Nott, who was crouched in a corner, examining a box of shiny scissors, thimbles, and spools with unhealthy interest. Her yellow eyes burned.
"And for you, little green one," you said more softly, "to keep your fingers from itching, here." You bent down (Molly immediately pretended to study the ceiling pattern, while Jester let out an admiring sigh at the lace trim on your hem) and pulled a large glass jar from the bottom shelf. It was filled to the brim with buttons of every conceivable shape, size, and color: mother-of-pearl, wooden, metal with embossing, glass ones that looked like gemstones.
You set the jar on the floor next to Nott with a soft, tinkling thud.
"A collection. You can touch, sort, even take a couple if you really like them. But only from this jar. Everything else — hands off. Deal?"
Nott, eyes wide, immediately forgot about the scissors. She pressed herself to the jar as if it were treasure, her thin fingers with sharp nails carefully reaching for the lid.
"A-all of it?" she whispered, and for the first time, something other than wariness appeared in her voice.
"All of it in the jar," you confirmed, watching the tension in her small shoulders ease. The kleptomania problem was solved, at least for now.
You turned to the others. Molly watched the scene with a smile, leaning on his staff. Jester was already twirling by the herb table, carefully sniffing a bundle of lavender.
"You're a seamstress?" Beau asked, her voice losing some of its initial sharpness. She nodded toward a mannequin wearing a half-finished jacket of dark green wool.
"A seamstress, an herbalist, and, as you've probably guessed, the hostess of this refuge, which you so kindly decided to visit in the middle of the night," you replied, walking to a small stove and starting to light it to boil water. "I have willow bark and chamomile tea. Calms the nerves. After your 'little adventure,' I think everyone could use some."
"You're too kind to a gang of uninvited fugitives," Fjord said quietly, his deep voice unexpectedly polite.
"Oh, don't be fooled," you parried, tossing pinches of dried herbs into a large ceramic teapot. "I'm just practical. Cold and nervous guests make bad guests. Besides..." you glanced at Molly, who had already made himself comfortable in your favorite armchair, one leg draped over the armrest, "some here can be very... persuasive when they want something."
"That's one of my modest talents," Molly agreed without missing a beat, catching your smile.
Caleb moved closer to the table, his scholar's gaze sliding with interest over the herb bundles and the folio with bookmarks lying nearby.
"You're knowledgeable about the healing properties of plants? Wirklich?" he asked, and for a moment, interest flickered in his eyes, overriding the usual weary sadness.
"Enough to heal needle pricks and soothe headaches from overly noisy visitors," you nodded. "And yes, wirklich. I have some comfrey if anyone has fresh wounds. And calendula salve."
While the water came to a boil and the room filled with the warm scent of herbs and wood, the atmosphere began to change. The sharp wariness gave way to tired but calmer anticipation. Nott quietly sorted through the buttons, clinking them together. Jester, sitting on the floor at Fjord's feet, muttered something about a "cozy nest," while Beau finally uncrossed her arms and leaned against the wall, closing her eyes.
You, still in that silk gown that now seemed less seductive and simply homely amidst this chaos, poured tea into mugs.
"So," you said, handing the first mug to Caleb. "Tea — for starters. And then, Mollymauk Tealeaf, you'll tell me everything. From the beginning. About the merchants' guild, about this 'not magical at all' amulet. And most importantly — how long can I expect to not have very angry people with torches and pitchforks showing up on my doorstep?"
Molly accepted his mug with exaggerated reverence, his fingers briefly touching yours.
"I promise, the story is worth it. And believe me, darling, we won't stay long. Just long enough to let the dust settle... and, perhaps, to ask you to sew on a few missing buttons." He shamelessly indicated his coat, which was indeed missing one of its decorative silver buttons.
You just shook your head, but your smile betrayed your weakness.
"From you, as always, darling, double. And not just in silver."
A near-domestic coziness settled over the room. You poured tea into mugs, watching out of the corner of your eye as Nott sorted buttons with a guttural purr, as Caleb finally sat in a chair, clutching his mug as if he'd forgotten when he'd last had anything warm. Beau relaxed her shoulders and even allowed herself a yawn.
Molly gestured for you to come closer, extending his hand palm up. His red eyes glowed with something warm and simultaneously mischievous.
"Come here," he said quietly when you approached. "You're too busy with the guests, and you've forgotten about me."
You sank onto the armrest of the chair, and Molly, taking your hand, brought it to his lips. His kiss was light, almost weightless — right on the pad of your thumb where that new freckle was.
"I still think this is the most interesting thing that's appeared in your life recently," he whispered.
You rolled your eyes, but smiled.
"The amulet, the merchants' guild, the pursuit — you think that's less interesting?"
"Undoubtedly," Molly kissed your finger again, then a second, a third, with the unhurriedness of a cat who's gotten into the cream. "Because this is yours. New, tiny... and only mine tonight."
You didn't resist. After all, these two deserved a little silence and tenderness amidst all the madness they carried on their shoulders.
No one noticed exactly when Jester detached herself from the floor at Fjord's feet and crept over to the worktable. Her blue fingers slid over the herb bundles, stopping at a small clay jar without a lid, sitting next to the calendula salve. Inside was a strange, dark, almost black powder — a mixture of dried mushrooms you had gathered last autumn for complex concoctions not intended for casual tasting.
Jester leaned in, sniffed. Then sneezed. Then, unable to resist, dipped a finger in and licked it.
Within a minute, her eyes were round as coins. Within two, she began to giggle, first quietly, then louder, more uncontrollably, completely helpless with laughter.
"Jester?" Fjord called warily, but it was too late.
The blue-haired tiefling sprang to her feet, swaying like a ship in a storm. Her tail whipped wildly from side to side, and a blissfully mad smile frozen on her lips.
"O-o-oh," she drawled, looking at her hands as if seeing them for the first time. "Is the ceiling... moving? Or is it me? It's definitely me. No, it's the ceiling. And you're all so... so... beautiful!"
"Oh, hell," Caleb muttered, the first to notice the open jar on the table.
"What did she take?" Beau demanded sharply, straightening up.
You turned just as Jester took an unsteady, drunken step and collapsed bodily onto Fjord's shoulder. He froze like a statue, his tusks gleaming faintly in the lamplight.
"Fjoooord," Jester sang, clutching his arm and gazing up at him with undisguised adoration. "You're so... so green... everything. Do you know that I... that I always... huh?" She reached for his cheek, clearly intending to leave a wet kiss there.
"I..." Fjord recoiled, but Jester was surprisingly tenacious. "Could someone..."
Jester's second step was aimed at Molly. She released the half-orc and, swaying, moved toward the armchair where you still sat on the armrest while Molly held your hand in his.
"Oh, look at that! Molly!" she exclaimed, and before anyone could react, Jester bent down and with a wet smack kissed Molly's hand — right on the same spot he had just kissed on you. "You're such... such a couple! Can I join you? Right now? Huh?"
"Jester, what the..." Molly began, but didn't get to finish.
Because you had already launched yourself off the armrest.
It was a lunge. Lightning-fast, precise as a needle's prick. In one instant, you were standing next to Jester; in the next, your fingers were already gripping her face on both sides, tilting the blue-haired tiefling's head back.
"Jester, no, bad!" you yelled, not mincing words. "Spit it out! Right now, dammit!"
Your fingers pressed at the corners of her mouth, forcing her jaws apart. Jester let out a surprised "Mmf-mff-mff!" Her eyes, pupils blown wide, stared at you with absolute incomprehension.
"What did she take?" you barked, turning toward the table but not releasing Jester's face.
"Dark mushrooms," Caleb answered quickly, darting to the jar and sealing it with its lid. "From the smell... hallucinogenic. And highly concentrated."
"Oh, for the love of..." you clenched your teeth and turned back to Jester. "Listen here, blue. Here's what you're going to do: bend over, open your mouth, and... induce vomiting. I'm not joking. If this reaches your stomach, you'll be sick for three hours, and you'll see gods that even your Traveler has never met."
"But they're so... pretty," Jester hiccupped, still trying to smile. "And you're pretty. And your gown... it's... it's moving... like... like a dance..."
"Jester!" you snapped, shaking her by the shoulders.
The commotion brought Nott running, dropping a button, and she immediately froze to watch the scene. Beau moved closer, ready to help. Fjord stood with a stony face and a faint blush on his green cheeks — right where Jester had almost reached with her lips.
"Help her," he finally managed, trying not to look in the direction of your gown. "Please."
You took a deep breath, released Jester's face, and grabbed her by the arm, dragging her toward the door.
"Outside. Now. You're going to breathe fresh air and look at the moon until this passes. And if you so much as try to kiss me, I will tie you up, understood?"
"What about Fjord?" Jester asked hopefully.
"Fjord especially not! Move!"
You pushed her out onto the porch, where the night wind immediately hit her face, and stood in the doorway, arms crossed.
Molly came out behind you, standing beside you, and said quietly, with a slight smirk in his voice:
"You can be quite fierce."
"I can be responsible," you corrected, not turning around. "Unlike some people who drag a gang of idiots into my house and then let one of them get high on my supplies."
"Her," Molly corrected.
"What?"
"Jester — 'she.' You said 'let one of them get high.'"
You turned around. Molly was smiling his special, lazy smile, and there wasn't a trace of guilt in it.
"Sorry," you said more quietly. "I'm worried."
"I know. And you're handling it brilliantly," he took your hand, the same one with the freckle, and kissed it again. "Even when you're yelling curses at three in the morning in a silk nightgown."
"Shut up, Molly."
"Can't. This is my favorite show."
From inside the room came Jester's voice:
"I see the moon worms! They want me to dance with them!"
"NO DANCING!" you yelled back. "SPIT!"
Fjord groaned quietly, covering his face with his hands. Beau, for the first time all evening, genuinely laughed. And Caleb poured himself more tea, deciding that tonight was going to be very, very long.
Have I…have I come out of an unfortunate and unplanned hiatus?! Eh maybe but here’s my nasty little thoughts about my favorite man of colors 😏
Mollymauk and you have been together a while and thus have also spent countless hours together, especially sexually. Earlier Molly had expressed wanting to try somethin different and of course you agreed (ya freaks😜). Little did you know he originally only had one thing in mind; teasing you with your own toys while you’re splayed out in front of him.
“Ngh Molly….so good” you’re practically putty in his hands already and all he’s done is work you with your pretty, ironically purple, dildo and his hands so far. “Oh pretty girl, you sound so good for me. Glad ya like it.” Molly keeps pumping the thick rubber piece in and out of your dripping cunt. You open your eyes and an idea pops into your head, a devilish and nasty little thought.
You place a hand on Molly’s and look deep into his eyes, your expression a bit worrisome. “What is it darlin’?” Molly starts to withdraw the dildo but you stop him with your other hand, “I uh…I wanna try something else dear. M’not sure how you’d feel about it.” You shy away, a bigger blush creeping on your skin. “Well how will we know if ya don’t ask, love? I’m all ears.”
You glance at him, knowing he’s being sincere, and breathe in some courage. “Mm..want you to use your tail…in me.” The purple tiefling blinks before a devious smirk comes to his face. “Oooh now, now hun. I never woulda took you for such a dirty minded girl. I like it, let’s have a go huh?” As Molly begins to take the dildo out again you stop him once more and swallow hard. “Wan’ both in me.” His jaw drops and he’s taken aback if only for a moment, then his tail is swishing wildly behind him like a cat who has finally caught their prey.
“Well, your wish is mine to grant, love.”
“Ah…M-Molly…oh gods..” squelch. squelch. “Ooooh good girl, you’re doing so well.” Molly’s free hand is pumping his thick and heavy cock while his eyes race back and forth from your beautiful expressions and your soaked pussy, puddle forming below. His tail and your dildo taking turns in your wet hole, abusing what’s theirs. “Ngh…ooooh I-I’m gon’a” your eyes roll back, “this is what you wanted darling” Molly strokes themselves harder, precum oozing now.
You cum with a shriek but Molly hasn’t slowed down. “Ah…ahhh…” you try to scoot your hips back at least but all he does is lunge forward pumping harder, “d-don’t run from it darlin’ it’s all yours so take it.” You’re practically shaking but then Molly gets an idea. He stops his torture, removes his tail and the toy and looks at your sopping cunt before he comes face to face with her. “Here’s what’s gonna happen,” he licks a stripe through your folds. “I’m gonna stick my cock in ya,” he licks again, “then my tail will join us,” lick, “and I want everyone in this town to hear you beautiful.” He sucks hard on your swollen clit and it makes you jump from overstimulation.
Sweat is dripping off of Molly’s forehead, rolling down your chest. There are no words just heavy panting, the squeaking of the bed below your bodies, plap, plap, plapping, and the thick squelching from your ravaged hole. “Ah, y-you’re shakin love, aaaah, so good…fuck.” Your eyes are blurred and trying to see the back of your skull, body all tight and limp at the same time. “Love, I-i won’t last…mmm…much longer…gods!” You can only whimper and nod before your eyes widen and you feel a heat like never before. The two of you let out sounds that can only be described as inhuman, Molly filling you so much that it’s begun to leak out of your abused pussy, his tail absolutely covered in the thick cream. Your cunt gripping with a force unknown and you squirt all over his abdomen.
Now tangled limbs are barely covered with a blanket and exhausted. “That…was something.” Molly says, brushing a piece of hair out of your face, a doting look on their face. You giggle a bit, had caressing Molly’s face, “thank you for indulging me lover boy.” You give him a peck on his forehead, “oh the pleasure’s all mine love, you truly know how to make a man proud” he winks at you. “Keep talkin’ like that and I’ll as for another round that the town is surely to hear.” Molly flips you on top, “only if it is my turn to be the bottom love.”
