#but like. i am running around with a leash in my teeth whining for attention. i wanna see other dogs

[jonny-b-meowborn]

I feel like a dog that's been inside too long and no one has taken it out for a walk in a while and it's running around with its leash in its teeth and whining for attention

(I haven't been out with anyone in too long bc I'm at my dad's in Germany and there's no one my age here and I miss my bestie)

[rare-clone-fic-exchange]

Blindsided (Hound x reader)

Summary: When you're tackled by a massiff on your morning commute, you never could have predicted it would end in a date.

Pairing: Sgt. Hound x reader

Rating: M but minors DNI

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Grizzer being the bestest girl; reader nearly gets stood up but it works out in the end; Hound being somehow suave and put together and also a mess; suggestive/fade-to-black; first kisses

A/N: This one is for @idoubleswearimawriter ! Hope you enjoy, babes. This was super fun and I know am an Official™ Hound simp. I hope I did him justice!! 

“Grizzer! Ke’mot!” 

The harsh command shouted across the busy Coruscant square makes heads turn, yours included. Just in time, too—there’s a flash of muted browns and a streak of pink before you’re tackled to the ground. Your belongings scatter, and you just manage to avoid cracking your head on the steel walkway. Dull pain blooms everywhere else, though. For a moment, anger flares inside you. Who let their pet off its leash? 

Then, a warm, sandpapery tongue licks the side of your face. Giggling, you hold your hands up to ward off the obviously dangerous attack, anger fizzling into delight. You push yourself into a sitting position to find yourself face-to-face with a very wiggly massiff who, upon realizing you’re not hurt, turns her entire body to thump her rear against you. The look she gives you over her shoulder seems to be pleading: C’mon, give me scritches! And who are you to deny such a request?

Glancing around, you discover with belated embarrassment that you’re the center of attention. At least bystanders are beginning to lose interest and drift away, resuming their commutes. A single person being knocked prone by a K-9 massiff is barely enough to result in petty gossip on Coruscant. 

Hang on, K-9? You do a double take—sure enough, on the massiff’s harness are the two letters emblazoned in bold white font. 

“Am I in trouble, huh, girl?” you ask the massiff.

“Grizzer!”

Snapping your head up, you locate the source of the gruff voice. Cutting through the crowd like a vibroknife is one of the Coruscant Guard; helmeted, but the design is unlike any of the other troopers you’ve observed from afar. The side plates extend down, painted in the visage of a snarling massiff; a red stripe runs down the center of his visor. He halts a few feet away, fists planted on his hips. 

You clack your jaw shut, realizing you’re staring. “This your dog?”

The massiff, Grizzer you assume, whines quietly. She takes her weight off of you but remains close as she snuffles at your pockets.

“Grizzer,” the trooper repeats, his voice cold and unforgiving through the vocabulator, “gev.”

Reluctantly, Grizzer trots to her handler, her head hanging low, tongue lolling between her teeth. She settles at his feet, her eyes trained on his helmeted face. 

The trooper raises his head so his visor fixes you with a blank, impersonal stare. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” you say. A groan slips from your throat as you stand, pain flaring in your tailbone, but you wave away the concerned way the trooper takes a step forward. “I’m fine, just took me by surprise.”

“She’s normally well-behaved,” he says. “I don’t know what got into her.”

Chuckling as you rub your sore coccyx, you shrug. “Whatever it is, I promise I’m not carrying anything illegal.”

“I should hope not,” he says, “otherwise I’d have to arrest you.”

Your laugh turns awkward. “It might just be the massiff treats in my pocket.”

“The—what? Why do you have that?” The tone of his voice is incredulous and suspicious, like he’s never met someone else who carries the specially formulated treats.

“I work at an animal rescue,” you explain.

“Right,” he says. “Understood.”

Silence slithers between the two of you for a long, uncomfortable moment. Your skin prickles where you imagine the trooper’s gaze to be trailing over you. 

You clear your throat. “Right. Yes. Well, I should—”

“Of course. I’m sorry—”

“It’s alright,” you assure. Plucking your bag from where it fell from your grasp, you give the trooper a little wave, then glance down at the massiff. Fishing a now-smushed treat from your pocket, you toss it to her. She snaps it out of the air with lightning-quick reflexes. “Keep an eye on her.”

“I will,” he says with a curt nod.

And that’s that. You gather the rest of your belongings and watch as the trooper leads the massiff away without a second glance. Sighing, you turn away, putting the incident from your mind as you hurry to work. 

--- 

A week later, standing in line at your favorite caf shop, you huddle beneath your umbrella as rain cascades from the sky. It’s your day off, the first one you’ve had in weeks, and of course the weather has to be shitty. You’re doing your best to not let it affect your mood. You don’t want to spend the day wallowing. But, you reflect with a sigh, moving with the line, that’s easier said than done.

The wind is cold as it whips through the narrow street, but the rain is colder where it mists onto your exposed face. Shivering, you turn your head away from the breeze—

And catch sight of a familiar duo. Motionless beneath the neighboring shop’s awning, stand Grizzer and her helmeted handler. You glance away, hoping your moment of ogling went unnoticed. By the time you reach the front of the line and order your usual hot drink and pastry, you think you’re in the clear. 

“Five credits,” the barista says. 

Fishing in your pocket for your money, you fail to notice the armored presence sidle up alongside you until he speaks. 

“Bill that to the Chancellor’s office,” he says.

Behind the counter, the barista pops her bubblegum and gives a shrug, while you gape at the trooper. 

“I— What—?”

“I never said sorry last week,” he says, like that explains everything. 

You frown. “You did, though.” 

“Did I?” He rubs the back of his neck, and the gesture makes your stomach squirm pleasantly for some reason. “Hah. Coulda swore I... Well. Grizzer didn’t apologize, now did she?” 

Arching an eyebrow, you fix him with a level, deadpan stare. It’s cute, actually, the way that he’s trying to be nice, and while his technique is certainly interesting, you’re unsure of his actual motivations. He fidgets under your gaze. Fiddling with the loop of Grizzer’s leash, he drops his head. 

“Thank you,” you finally say, putting him out of his misery. 

Cradling the umbrella in the crook of your arm, you accept your items from the barista with a grateful smile. The trooper hurries to get out of your way as you step out of line, not wanting to make yet another scene. At your hip, Grizzer nuzzles you, an intelligent light shining in her eyes.

“Oh, ah.” You fumble for a moment but you manage to get your pastry tucked beneath your arm so that you can lean down awkwardly to give Grizzer a pat on her head. “Hey, girl. I don’t have any treats on me today. You been good? Have you tackled any more strangers?” 

She pants happily and licks your hand. You snort.

You can feel the trooper’s gaze heavy on your face while you lavish affection on the massiff, and you suppress a shiver. While you’ve never really interacted with the clone troopers much, you’ve heard second- and third-hand accounts of how helpful the Coruscant Guard is in particular. Clearly, they train well not only in combat but also in manners, if your mystery man is any indication. 

“What’s your name?” you ask, still keeping your attention on Grizzer. 

“Hound,” he says, and his tone makes you think no one has ever asked him that before. No civilian, anyway. 

“Hound,” you repeat, a smile ghosting your lips. When you give him your name in return, he nods once. 

“I should let you get back to your day,” he says. 

You’re about to agree, about to make some lame joke about how he’s probably got more important duties than babysitting you, but something makes you pause. Maybe it’s the way that Grizzer leans her body against your leg, or maybe it’s the butterflies that continue to beat against the insides of your stomach after Hound’s display of shyness a few moments ago, but you find a giddy kind of warmth well up in your chest. 

So instead, you say, “Do you— I mean, are clones given time off?”

His helmet snaps to you; you have his full attention. “Why do you ask?” 

“I was just thinking that...” You chew at the inside of your cheek, suddenly bashful. “Oh, I dunno. I was hoping maybe I could buy you a drink to say thank you.” 

“You already said it.” His voice sounds reserved, cautious.

Throwing your own caution to the wind, cold as it is, you flutter your eyelashes, ignoring the way your heart pounds in your chest. “Sure, but I didn’t tell Grizzer, did I?”

He seems to get the hint. “Oh. Well. Yes. I mean, no. I mean— Kriff. Yes, clones get time off. I’m off duty tonight, around 7.” 

“Great.” You smile at him, wide and genuine, and he seems to relax. “I’ll meet you at Dex’s at 8, then.” 

---

Eight o’clock comes and goes. You’d arrived to Dex’s early to snag a good booth, not one that would give the impression that this is anything more than a light-hearted get-together with a man whose face you’ve never seen (because no, you don’t count the fact that they’re clones—they’re unique individuals), but also not one so close to the front door as to give the idea that you want an easy escape route.

The server droid had only waited so long before prompting you to order or get out. So you ordered. May as well make the most of the situation, right? At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself as you pick at your meal. Normally, Dex’s is one of your favorites, a guilty pleasure. But tonight, the comfort of the greasy food does little to quell the sting that pulses through you with each beat of your heart. 

Foolish. Stupid, silly, naive of you to hinge any expectations on this meeting. It had been a spur of the moment decision, certainly not one that you’d normally entertain for yourself, so why does his absence leave such a bitter taste in your mouth?

Not wanting to go back to your apartment, though, you sigh and spend a few hours scrolling on your datapad. Grateful you’d thought to bring it with you, you’re able to catch up on the latest holoforums you’re a part of. By the time the clock reads 10, you sigh, locking the device and leaving a handful of credits on the table for the server droid. 

At least the rain has let up. Where the ground is still slick and puddled with rainwater, you trudge through, splashing yourself. The sky remains heavy with pregnant clouds, oppressive in their proximity to the city. 

The bright neon lights of Dex’s sheds illumination for dozens of feet, and you’re still within that radius when a voice calls your name. You pause, frowning. Again, your name echoes to you, and when you turn, your eyes widen at the sight awaiting you.

Hound—because it can only be Hound, being the only clone trooper you’ve ever talked to—jogs through puddles, his heavy boots thudding on the permacrete ground. Gone is his armor; instead, he wears a tight-fitting black tee (is that a tattoo you see peeking out on the inside of his bicep?), muted green combat pants, and, draped over one arm, a black leather jacket. His dark curls coil nearly to his shoulders, bouncing with each step as he stumbles to a halt in front of you. Panting, he peers up at you through his eyelashes, hands on his knees. 

“Hound?” you ask, equal parts confused, bewildered, and hurt. 

“I’m so sorry, mesh’la,” he says. Without the filter of the helmet, his voice is deep and rich, with the barest hint of gruffness, an old engine turning over for the first time in years. “Huge security incident right before my shift ended. I couldn’t get away.” 

You wait until he catches his breath to respond. Once he stands up straight once more, his weathered and lined face pinched with concern, you sigh. 

“S’alright,” you say. 

He shakes his head. “Next time, I’ll need your comm so I can let you know.” 

“Next time?” you say, the barest hint of a grin tugging at your lips. 

“If you want there to be one,” he immediately says. “Kriff, I— I’m not good at this.”

Warmth surges through your fingertips at his admission. Shaking away the funk you’ve been in for the past few hours, you offer him your hand. “C’mon.” 

He blinks at your outstretched palm. “What?”

“Come on,” you say again. “I don’t think I can sit in Dex’s any more tonight, but I’ve got food at home if you’re hungry.” 

Tentatively, like he’s afraid you’ll explode into smoke when he touches you, he reaches for your hand. His skin is rough and hot against yours, his fingers calloused from years of training. Adding to the texture is a massive scar that travels from his palm all the way up to the outside of his forearm near his elbow; he must see the way your eyes widen when you spot it because he chuckles breathlessly. 

“I, uh, got that from a training accident,” he says. “Over-eager massiff puppy.”

Nodding, you can only tug him along with you as you lead the way back to your apartment. If he were anyone else, you’d never even consider bringing him home like this; but he’s a member of the Coruscant Guard. And besides, you’ve already thrown out any expectations for this to be a normal night. 

The air is humid and thick as you walk, both a promise and a reminder of rain. Your skin feels sticky. Next to you, Hound seems lost in thought, impervious and oblivious to the world around him. 

You nudge him gently with your shoulder. “Credit for your thoughts?” 

He blinks at you. “Sorry. Just... can I be honest with you?”

“Sure.” You keep your eyes facing forward, perplexed by his question. 

“I’m glad Grizzer clobbered you.” 

You laugh, loud and genuine, your head thrown back. And once you start, you can’t stop, the giggles bubbling up your chest without end. Tears dew at the corners of your eyes. Hound digs his heels in and stops walking, pulling you to a stop as well. 

“I’m s-sorry,” you gasp out. “That’s a very apt word for what she did. And not at all what I expected you to say.”

His wounded expression softens slightly. “Well, what did you expect?” 

Hiccuping, you shrug. “I dunno. Not that, though. I apologize for laughing. Please, continue.” 

He squints at you like he’s unsure of whether he should believe you, but then he sighs. “Alright. I was saying, that I’m glad she did that, because then I wouldn’t have been able to meet you.”

That sobers you up. Biting at your bottom lip, you smile, but say nothing, sensing there’s more he wants to say. 

“My vod’e—brothers, they teased the hell outta me for letting Grizzer get loose,” he says. He rubs the back of his neck, the same gesture that first endeared him to you earlier today. “But if it means that I got to buy someone as attractive as you their coffee, worth it.”

“Technically, you charged it to the Chancellor’s office,” you remark, smile turning wry. 

“Have you never heard the phrase ‘it’s the thought that counts’?” 

You snort. “Point taken.”

The two of you begin walking again, palms still pressed together. Against your skin, his heat is a comfort, holding at bay any chill the night air seems determined to impart. You sneak a glance at him. In the yellow glow of the streetlights, his tanned skin glows, ethereal, beautiful. 

“Hey,” you say, voice soft, “I’m glad I met you, too.”

The look he gives you makes your breath catch. Swallowing against the sudden lump in your throat, you tug him along, walking faster. Your apartment isn’t far from here, and you want as much time as you can afford getting to know this man.

--- 

You make him a quick dinner, nothing fancy, but he wolfs it down with voracity and gumption, a look of bliss scrawled over his features. As you lean your forearms on your kitchen counter, you can’t help the small spark of attraction that kindles to life deep in your belly. He looks so...at peace in your small apartment, tanned skin glowing in the incandescent lights caged above the kitchen island.

A thought occurs to you, and you startle into action. “Oh! I almost forgot!”

Hound hums his curiosity, mouth still full of food. 

“I promised you a thank-you drink,” you say over your shoulder. Rummaging through your cabinets, you snag two dusty shot glasses and a half-empty bottle of dark whiskey. You rinse the glasses, then, with only a few spilled drops, pour two shots. 

Hound places his empty bowl in the sink. He crooks one eyebrow at you. “When was the last time you drank this?” 

Squinting in thought, you pause with the small glass perched between your fingers. “I...honestly couldn’t tell you.” 

“Well,” he says, a warm, teasing smile ghosting over his features, “suppose I should feel honored.”

Clink. Knocking back the shot, you shudder at the burn of the alcohol as it slides down your throat. It settles with comfortable heat in your stomach. Hound grimaces, sucking his teeth. 

“Kark,” he mutters. “I can see why you don’t drink it often.” 

Chuckling, you shake your head. “C’mon. I’ve got some sweets we can wash it down with.” 

You retrieve an unopened box of chocolates and rip open the packaging as you lead the way to the sofa. You settle into one corner of the plush couch, and Hound curls into the opposite corner; you perch the chocolates on the cushion between you. He looks...good, relaxing into your couch the way he is.

Emboldened by the strong alcohol now coursing in your system, you gesture to the sweets. “Wanna play a game?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“The rules.” 

You snort. “The rules are that you only get to eat a chocolate if you answer a question the other person asks. If you don’t answer, you don’t eat.”

Hound’s eyebrows twitch upward as if in curiosity. “What kinds of questions?” 

Shrugging, you gesture vaguely around the room. “Whatever you want to know.” 

“I already know what your job is and where you live,” he muses. “And what pastry you like. What else is there to know?”

You narrow your eyes at him, trying to decide if he’s being facetious or if he genuinely just has no interest in learning more about you. Kriff, have you misread this entire situation? Your palms begin to sweat. 

Then his face breaks into a sly grin. “I’m kidding. C’mon. Ask me a question.”

“Dick,” you mutter, giving him a playful glance. Then, you sigh. “What’s your favorite color?” 

“Really, that’s what you want to know?” He rolls his eyes, giving an exaggerated head roll to go with it. “Of all the questions you could possibly ask—”

“It’s a perfectly acceptable question!” you interrupt, outraged. “Let’s see you ask something better then!”

He huffs. “Fine. What was the name of your first massiff?”

Suppressing an eye roll of your own, you sigh and pluck a chocolate from the box. “Spike.” 

“How original.” 

“I was a child!”

“So was I.” A grin plays at his lips. 

“Yeah? What did you name yours?” you challenge, then pop the chocolate into your mouth. 

He’s silent for a few seconds too long, his eyes looking everywhere but at you, and a victorious grin curls over your lips. 

“You named yours Spike, too, didn’t you?” 

“Maybe,” he grumbles.

Laughing, you nudge the box of chocolates towards him. “Technically, that was a question.”

He inspects the box. Once he chooses his first sweet and bites into it, his eyes slide shut and he groans in appreciation. Your core pleasantly lurches at the sound. 

And so the game goes. You swap stories about your youth: his training on Kamino, your upbringing in the Coruscanti upper levels. You tell him about your dreams for the future, and he muses, however briefly, on what the end of the war might bring for clones. At some point, the chocolate supply dwindles, until there’s only one left.

Mostly you talk about massiffs. His eyes light up when he recounts memories of Boomer, Tusk, and Spike, and his early days with Grizzer. His enthusiasm and passion for the creatures is infectious; you find yourself entranced by the direct gestures he uses, the sweep of his tongue over his lips when he pauses between sentences, the sparkle in his eye when he recalls a particularly feisty massiff. In your chest, your heart pounds. You’ve never been able to resist a man who is good at his job and passionate about it to boot.

“There’s that look again,” he says softly, drawing you out of your thoughts. 

Heat flushes up your neck to your face. “What look?” 

“The one you just gave me,” he says with a teasing smirk. 

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Which is, of course, a lie. If you had to guess, you were giving him bedroom eyes.

“That so?”

You hum in affirmation. 

His topaz gaze holds your own for a few moments longer than necessary. The uncomfortable, embarrassed heat in your face morphs into something more pleasant, more aroused. Letting your gaze wander, you catch the shallow breaths he takes, the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips yet again, the fist he clenches along the back of the sofa. When you meet his eyes again, they’re darker. 

“Hound?” 

“Yes, mesh’la?” 

A shiver dances up your spine, his voice taking on a rumbling quality. “One more question for you.” 

“Ask away.” His gaze searches your features. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

He blinks at you, full lips parting in surprise. Then, quicker than you can react, he snatches the very last chocolate in the box and stuffs it in his mouth. “Yesth,” he lisps around it.

Heart leaping up into your throat, you carefully set the now empty tray of sweets on the coffee table, then crawl across the couch cushions to him. He watches with half-lidded eyes and shifts to face you, stretching his legs beneath your form. Straddling his hips, you gently, uncertainly, rest your hands on his broad shoulders. His hands find home at your waist—not low enough to touch you anywhere you don’t want, but their solidness and warmth make you shudder with delight. 

“If that’s okay, I mean,” you breathe out. This close, you can see the flecks of darker brown in his golden eyes, and count the freckles on his nose. 

“Please,” he murmurs. 

Tilting your head down, you brush your lips against his, testing. A groan rumbles out of his chest; his arms slide around you in an enveloping embrace, hugging you closer. His mouth moves against yours softly yet no less intensely for it. You whimper, head spinning. 

When you pull away, you don’t move very far, Hound’s arms still wrapped solidly around you. He gives you a soft, timid smile—so unlike the gruff, sarcastic trooper who’s been trading quips with you all night. Rubbing your thumb over his cheek, you return the smile. 

Ignoring the surge of need in your lower belly, you sigh. “I need you to know I don’t normally do this.” 

“I believe you,” he says, tone as quiet as yours. “But I want you to.”

Searching his eyes, you find nothing there but sincerity and the beginnings of lust. Capturing his lips in another kiss, you give yourself to this strong, stolid, snarky man. He carries you to your room, undressing you reverently, lavishing your skin with kisses and praise. His hands are everywhere, grabbing, squeezing, feeling you; in return, your own hands roam his toned body, delighting in the rippling muscle beneath his skin. 

And when he slides home within you, you both sigh, fingers twined together. He draws you, slow and languid and breathless, to the edge again and again, murmuring sweet praises in your ear.

After, pressed to his sweaty skin, chest heaving with exertion, you kiss each of his fingertips. Under your ear, his heart beats loud and steady; slowly, its rate lowers as you both unwind. He trails his hand over the expanse of your back. Rubbing in methodical strokes, his touch lulls you to the brink of sleep. 

You startle yourself awake. “Hound?” 

“Yes, mesh’la?” he murmurs. 

“Remind me to give Grizzer extra treats,” you say, voice thick with sleep. 

He chuckles, the sound rumbly and smoky beneath your ear. “I will, mesh’la. Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Mmkay.” Yawning, you curl tighter against his side, and drift to sleep, your dreams filled with playful massiff pups and Hound, the steadfast trainer.

---

Mando'a: 

Ke'mot - "halt!" (used as 'heel' for Grizzer)

Gev - Stop it! Pack it in! (more severe a command than ke’mot for Grizzer)

[apocalypticgargoyle]

okay okay could i request some nsfw with professor!techno giving a little extra praise to one of his students and asking to see them after class (presumably a bad grade of sort, but thats most certainty not the case). I love your writing by the way !! could i be <3 anon?? thank you so muchhh !!!! :DD

˚⸙͎۪۫⋆ welcome <3 anon ˚⸙͎۪۫⋆

im going fucking feral for this idea, thank you for gifting it to me. i- my mind went to dark academia!techno and i lost it. if y'all know me irl, you don't after this. also this techno fanart by EtecteraArt, if you don't have clear skin yet.

𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒. ⚚ 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫!𝐓𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐨

pairing: professor!technoblade x fm!reader

± warnings: nsfw (minors dni), pure filth, professor/student, slight degradation, domination, minimal dialogue

It started out as shameless flirting for you. You’d wear the most revealing thing your closet held, crossing your legs and leaning over to pick up a pencil just so you could show him the curvature of your body. You’d tie your hair up or pull it away from your neck when you answered one of his questions, basking in the slight smirk painting his face as his eyes surveyed your movements. You chewed on the ends of your pens and wore a shade of lipstick you knew would draw in his attention. You were positive your fellow lecture members cast their eyes downward at you, believing he was giving you special treatment just because you toyed with him. 

You made sure to show him you knew what you were talking about and actively studying his assignments and works published by him. You were, in a word, hopelessly obsessed with Techno. This obsession led to his appraisal in class when you could fully grasp a more advanced concept he had posed. You didn’t even care about the other girls’ glared burning into your shoulder from behind you as he favored you over them. 

One day in particular, you came to class a bit earlier with a coffee for him in your hand. You stopped before entering, pressing your back against the outside wall beside the door as you heard a feminine voice cooing to him. You smugly enjoyed the tone of his voice as he countered their attempts to hit on him with a grace only a man like him could muster. He thanked the woman for coming in and told her that his office hours were open if she needed actual help on an assignment. You swiped your thumb across your bottom lip before smearing the hue of your lipstick against the white plastic lid of the coffee cup. It was barely noticeable, something only he would take note of. 

The woman exited the room, brushing your shoulder as she went past you. The two of you shared a look that could equate to two territorial wolves in a dispute. The only leverage you had was that he never shot you down, in fact, you noticed he usually enjoyed your under-the-collar comments. As you turned into the room, you noticed him lean back in his chair, running his fingers into his short pink hair and shutting his eyes slightly with a sigh. 

You chewed the corner of your cheek as you approached the lecture desk, his eyes prying open with a small smile as he spotted you. “Good morning, Professor,” you hummed, setting the coffee in front of him. He sent you a hint of a grateful look as students began to file into the room. You turned on your heel and walked to find your seat, swaying your hips slightly, only because you knew he was staring after you. 

As you settled in, you watched Techno bring the cup towards his mouth before his eyes darted to the edge of the lid. With the ghost of a smirk swirling into his expression, he looked up to make direct eye contact with you before pressing his lips to the spot and drinking from the cup. Your breath hitched, heat pulsing through your body at the slight gesture from him. You studied him as he swallowed, letting his tongue dart out to wet his lips as if he were further savoring the mild taste of you from the lid; something an outsider wouldn’t have noticed. 

You clenched your thighs together as you thought about his rejection of other girl’s advances while now he was practically eye-fucking you from across the lecture hall. 

That lecture had been an hour and a half of agony. Your tongue wettened as he twisted a pen in his hand absent-mindedly as he lectured on Eros, his eyes surveying your reactions as he’d quietly roll the pen in his fingers. You weren’t sure how he could have such an effect on you without even touching you. You knew the other girls were squirming in their seats as he sat on the edge of his desk, leaning his elbows on his knees as he answered questions towards the end. 

All you wanted to do was get out of the lecture hall and do what you always did after his class: shower in cold water and plan your next phase of attack. 

Techno had other plans. 

He called out your name at the end of class, meeting your eyes as he instructed you to meet him for office hours. You hear someone whine next to you, nearly making you laugh as you agreed. 

And that’s how you found yourself, pulling the door shut to his office behind you. He dug into a folder on his desk, setting a copy of your latest essay in front of him. Your eyes raked down his arms as he pulled his gold-rimmed glasses on top of his head and leaned over his desk, muscle tightening against the rolled sleeves of his shirt. “Come take a look at this,” he stated. Your eyes darted to the red pen marks, his handwriting only scripting praise on the first page. You knew you aced that essay before you’d even turned it into him. 

You smirked to yourself, dropping your bag beside one of his client chairs and mimicking his stance, planting your hands in the space between his. The size of him dwarfed you, making your mind race vulgarly. This was always how it was, you invading his personal space and him teasing you to go further. “What am I looking at, Professor?” You quizzed sheepishly, feigning innocence. 

You leaned your weight on one of your hands, the fingers of the other tracing closer to his large hand. He grabbed your wrist, pulling you just barely close enough to him that you could feel his breath. Your cheeks flushed, goosebumps spreading over your body. “You think I can’t see what you’re doing?” He needled, voice dropping an octave to send heat straight to your core. 

You gulped, practically tasting him he was so close to you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Professor. But I could learn,” you avowed; your words barely above a whisper. For a moment, you truly believed he would kiss you, his breath cascading over your face with sweet hints of mint and the coffee you’d bought him. 

His lips barely brushed against yours before he pulled away, sending fire to burn in your chest and your knees to turn to jelly. He stood back, his eyes dancing with a mocking ego, knowing he had you on a leash. He lowered into his seat, pressing his back against the leather of his chair, fingers tugging at his collar to undo a few buttons as he looked at your shocked and submissive frame. He chuckled darkly as he eyed you. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. You’re just a child,” he teased. 

You had half a mind to dig into your bag and sign over your ID to prove you were the opposite of his beratement. Instead, you let your breathing shallow, slowly walking around his desk. He tilted his head at you, watching you intently as you placed your hand on the back of his chair, and pushing him away from his desk. As you lowered to your knees, you allowed that hand to travel the length of his body. As your knees settled against the cold linoleum in front of him, you raked your nails down his thighs, making him chuckle softly, a sardonic expression flickering across his face. 

You sharpened your eye contact, your fingers nearly hooking around his belt loops. “Teach me then, Professor. Use me,” you practically begged, making Techno smirk, his hand moving to rest in the crook of your neck while the other supported his head. 

His fingers felt coarse against your skin, the feeling of him finally touching you nearly was enough to send you over the edge. You turned your head, pressing your lips to the inside of his wrist. “So needy. Like a lost puppy vying for my attention,” he mocked, gaze dancing from your lips to your eyes. “What would your boyfriend think of you like this? On your knees in front of a grown man.” His voice dripped with lust and restraint, yet he was completely calm and utterly in control. 

His thumb brushed against your bottom lip, almost mimicking your gesture from earlier as if he’d pictured your actions with his coffee lid. “I don’t have a boyfriend, Professor. And if I did, I doubt he would taste as good as you,” you muttered, silently signing over your soul to him. 

You could practically see the gears turning in his head as he debated what to do with you first. He pressed his thumb into your mouth, flattening your tongue with his finger pad. Your lips instantly closed around him, looking up at him with doe eyes. “Stop talking, pet,” he grumbled, the rest of his fingers angling your face closer to him and he leaned towards you. “If you’re going to beg like a toy, I’ll treat you like a toy,” he promised, making your heart flutter. 

He pulled his thumb from your mouth, only to wrap his hands around your throat, bringing your lips against his roughly. You moaned at the taste of him, wanting to swim against his tongue and give him your dying breath. He groaned into your mouth, kneading your bottom lip with his teeth. 

Techno tugged you to your feet, wrapping his hands around your thighs before pushing you on top of his desk. His hand slipped into your shirt, palming your breast while his other gripped at the flesh of your ass, pulling you closer to him as he ground his hips against yours. You tugged your hands through his soft hair, tugging slightly and savoring the moans he poured into your mouth. You wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting to alleviate whatever distance there was between the two of you. 

Your fingers moved to skim down his toned body, unzipping his pants and palming his cock outside of his boxers. His lips moved to dig his teeth into your shoulder, muffling his groans of praise as he ground against your hand. You panted at the loss of his lips on yours, digging your nose into the crook of his neck and inhaling deeply as he moaned your name. You were convinced you were trapped in one of your many daydreams involving him, but with each nip of his teeth sending a flush of pleasure to your core, you were reminded that he was in fact, about to ruin you. 

Techno pulled you off the desk, spinning you in his hold and bending you over the hardwood. You bit back a smirk as you heard him undo the rest of his zipper and discard his belt behind you. The anticipation of him made your knees shake as your hot breath drew clouds of moisture on his desk. His fingers pushed your skirt further up your hips, blunt nails dragging along the skin of your legs before gripping your hips. You felt him grind himself against your entrance, your mind already blurring with pleasure. He kicked your feet further apart. “God, I've wanted to do this for so long," he nearly growled, pressing a kiss to your shoulder blade before pushing himself into you. 

You moan, your body adjusting around his length, begging him for more. His hands gripped your hips, driving himself deeper into you, beginning an animalistic pace. You groaned out his name, one of his hands holding tightly onto your side to give himself more leverage. Your mind blurred, mouth hanging open slightly as your cheek was pressed firmly against the wood of his desk. 

Each of his thrusts sent a wave of pleasure coursing through your veins, as his deep, breathy moans hissed into your ear like a sinful symphony. His hand moved to thread his fingers through yours, giving you some kind of anchor as his large frame wreaked havoc on your body. You whimpered out moans of arousal with each of his movements. 

His teeth grazed against your neck again, dragging himself deeper into you. You picked your head up, reaching out one of your hands to grip the edge of the desk, hearing him chuckle behind you. His hand snaked around you to wrap around your neck, bringing you up a bit further as he pressed his lips to one of your flushed cheeks, probably basking in the beads of sweat dotting your hairline from his campaign. 

"Mark me," you begged. "I'm yours," you moaned, rolling your hips back against him. The satisfied moan that slithered from his lips sent goosebumps spreading against your skin. 

He dug his teeth into you, finger tightening around your neck and you knew the brushes he left would be enough of a sultry reminder to keep you wet for a week. 

He pulled you upward, pulling out of you only to put you back on his desk, pushing himself into you as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His lips melded against yours again, stealing your muttering of his name and replacing it with his hungry moans. 

You ground your hips into him, wrapping around him again as his lips moved to your neck, breath cold against the cold spots from his teeth previously and the thin sheen of sweat coating your skin. With the new angle and his hands digging into your back, your legs were beginning to shake, the tension he'd been binding was becoming too much to hold off. 

His hand tightened around your throat as if encouraging you to finish. He pulled your irritated lips towards him again, wanting to taste you as you went over the edge. 

After that day, you stopped dressing so provocatively. You could wear a turtleneck and padded jeans and you knew he'd still be looking. He knew what you looked like under those clothes: marked up from his teeth, quivering only for him. No longer was there shameless flirting, only glances that told you to wait for him after class. 

He was always hungry for you; whether it be in his car in a vacant lot, in his office to test his chair's range of movement, or in the bathroom of some random club you probably didn't have the qualifications to get into without him. It didn't matter, because he knew that you were his. 

You liked watching the other girls throw themselves at him like you had, mainly because he'd always praise you later with your lips around his cock. You were his favorite, his star student. In his eyes, you didn't hold a candle to the rest of them. 

[bakugoukatsukiswife]

Girl’s Best Friend

A/N: Y’all I really love @carlychrisfarley​ to write this cause this was something, something indeed. But basically she wanted Bakugou in a scenario where he gets turned into a dog and then when he finally gets turned back, some smutty things happen involving a very well-known sexual position. Who am I to deny her that though? Big shoutout to @lordexplosionsextra​ for making sure this was amazing. 

Warnings: Smut, 18+. 

Words: 1,953

Your boyfriend, Bakugou was a very stubborn man. He didn’t back away from a challenge-no matter what it was. That included diving headfirst into missions even without back-up, he could be reckless and you knew this. Although that still didn’t stop your shock when Kirishima came by your house with a Shiba Inu on his hands-and no Bakugou. 

“Uh.. so not to alarm you, but this is Bakugou.” Kirishima said as he motioned to the blonde dog that seemed to have the same snarl that was always on Bakugou’s face. You blinked a few times to register what he had said before laughing, clearly not falling for the joke that Bakugou and Kirishima were pulling on you. 

“There’s no way you guys are fooling me, I know Katsuki is just hiding somewhere,” you said as you started to come outside, eyes scanning the area for the unruly head of blonde hair you had run your fingers through countless times. When you didn’t see him, you looked back at Kirishima and realized that he was being completely serious. You looked down at the Shiba again and the dog came towards you, his snarl disappearing as he licked at your hand as if to say, “yes, it really is me, dumbass. No prank here,”. 

“What the hell happened?” You asked Kirishima as you let them both inside, plopping down on the couch as Kirishima sat across from you and Katsuki jumped up on the couch, resting himself against you, his head on your lap. 

“Bakugou rushed in-as always,” Kirishima started and Bakugou let out a huff in frustration before Kirishima continued. “Bakugou rushed ahead and the villain used their quirk on him, they can make the person turn into whatever animal they want. It could last a few days, weeks to months.” Kirishima explained and your heart sank at the fact that your boyfriend could be a dog for months on end. Katsuki could sense your mood and let out a low whine, licking at your hand to give you a sense of comfort and a form of apology. Luckily, Kirishima was nice enough to stop and get a few things like a leash, bowls and toys for Bakugou’s state so you could likely process what had happened. 

In your daze, you hadn’t realized that Kirishima had left until Bakugou nudged at your hand with his head and you blinked before looking down at Katsuki, his eyes focused on you. You pet the top of his head, his ears twitching slightly at the new sensation and you smiled when he huffed in approval. 

“Want to watch some TV?” You asked him, giggling when he let out a short bark as if to say yes before you turned on a show that you two had been binging the past few nights. Bakugou curled closer into you, his fur brushing against you. This was going to be interesting. 

A few days had passed and Bakugou was still the cutest Shiba ever-although you really wanted your boyfriend back. Although he was a cute dog, he was stubborn and wouldn’t listen to you at all. Especially when you tried to give him baths after he would go outside and roll around in the dirt. He was still very protective of you so that was pretty cute, sometimes anyway. You had a feeling that you would definitely try to convince Katsuki into getting a dog after this though. You enjoyed having a furry little friend around. 

“Katsuki, are you ready to go on your walk?” You asked from the door, slipping your shoes on and grabbing his leash. You heard a bark and heard the patter of paws before Bakugou appeared in front of you, allowing you to leash him after struggling for a good few minutes. Little shit. You took Bakugou outside, allowing him to lead as he started to sniff at the flowerbeds in the neighborhood. You heard a call of your name and looked up to see Denki and Kirishima headed your way with a wave, to which you returned. Bakugou returned to you, acting as a sort of barrier between you and the boys. 

“Oh man, that quirk still hasn’t worn off?” Kirishima asked you, his red eyes filled with sympathy. 

“Nope, but he at least cuddles me without complaining now.” You joked, causing Bakugou to huff as he showed his annoyance. Kirishima and Denki continued to talk to you, but you could feel Bakugou tugging at the leash to signal that he was ready to head back to the house and you could swear you heard him let out a growl when Kirishima gave your head a pat, the leash being pulled tighter. After finally saying bye to the boys, Bakugou pulled you back to the house and you frowned when you sat down on the couch, expecting Bakugou to jump in your lap but he stalked off to the bedroom. Shrugging, you made your way to the bathroom as you passed a sulking Bakugou on the bed and started to strip, turning on the shower before you heard the patter of paws and Bakugou patiently sitting on the floor. 

“I’m guessing you’re going to stay in here?” You questioned as you threw your shorts aside, watching as Bakugou barked as if saying “duh!”. You smiled before stepping in the shower, turning on the music from your phone from the shower speaker. You hummed to yourself before lathering some of your favorite body wash in your hands, jumping when you heard a familiar voice in your ear. 

“Need some help, princess?” Bakugou questioned, giving you his signature smirk when you turned to face him. You touched his face, pushing at his cheeks slightly to make sure that it was actually Bakugou and not your touch starved imagination playing tricks on you. 

“It’s me, dumbass. The quirk wore off,” Bakugou said, his voice slightly muffled from your hands. As if you didn’t believe him, you trailed your hands down to his perfect figure, fingers trailing over his abs and Bakugou chuckled. “I’m guessing you missed me a lot, huh?” 

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, you were cute as a dog. But, I really missed you,” you admitted as Bakugou pulled you close, your confession causing him to smile. 

“I missed you too, especially being able to touch you….” Bakugou said as his knuckles brushed against your cheek, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip as his red eyes seemed to glow with intensity. “So…, can I touch you?” He asks, his voice low as his eyes flicked down your body. As soon as you nodded, Bakugou’s lips were on yours and he had you pressed up against the shower wall. His lips were hot against yours, one of his hands traveling to your hair and you moaned when his fingers tangled in your locks. His tongue met your bottom lip and slowly slid inside your mouth, his other hand going to play with the sensitive bud that had been begging for attention since you heard his voice. 

“K-Katsuki,” you moaned against his lips as his fingers trailed down to your already slick folds to brush against them. 

“Hmm, are you that eager? You’re so cute, wanting me so badly.” He mumbled against your lips as his fingers easily slid into you, a quiet chuckle escaping his mouth at the way you squirmed. His index and pointer finger started to thrust in and out slowly, his face buried in your neck while your hand went to his hair, your skin already on fire. It wasn’t from the shower, but from Katsuki’s hold on you. He was like a drug you couldn’t get enough of. 

A moan escaped your mouth when Bakugou curled his fingers, the pads of them hitting that spongy spot inside of you that had you seeing stars in seconds. You could hear his voice in your ear asking if you were about to cum, and when you nodded he abruptly removed his fingers. You met his teasing red eyes as he sucked your juices off his fingers, a gasp escaping your throat as he suddenly picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as his lips latched to your neck. 

“Now, now, baby girl… I didn’t tell you that you could cum. I prefer to have you cum around my cock, anyway.” Bakugou whispered in your ear, his teeth tugging at the skin before he lined himself up with your entrance, his cockhead teasing against your folds. 

“Katsuki… p-please,” you beg, desperately trying to move against your boyfriend so you could get a small amount of friction. 

“You’re so fucking cute when you beg,” Bakugou said with a chuckle, a low groan escaping his mouth as he slowly pushed into you. He paused for a minute to let you adjust since it had been a bit before he started moving, a growl escaping his mouth as he bit down on your neck, his tongue soothing at the inflamed skin as his thrusts picked up the pace. 

“Fuck…” you moaned out at the way that Katsuki’s cock brushed along your walls, the angle he had you in making him hit your g-spot. Your hands found purchase in his hair, your fingers combing through the wet locks as the water hit the both of you. Bakugou continued to lick and suck at your neck, leaving dark marks as he never stopped his pace. You whined when you realized that he had stopped again, his hands cupping under your ass to keep you steady as he turned the shower off before taking you to the bedroom. 

“Katsuki?” You asked, taking your face from his neck to look up at him, a yelp leaving your lips as he tossed you gently on the bed. 

“Turn around,” Bakugou said, and you knew it was a command, not a question. You did as you were told, getting on your hands and knees, a shiver running through you when Bakugou’s hands spread your ass, allowing him full view of your dripping cunt. 

“You’re so fucking soaked for me, I fucking love it,” Bakugou said before lining himself up again, a growl escaping his throat at how tight you were as he sheathed himself inside you.“Shit, you’re so fucking tight.” You felt as Bakugou’s hand tangled in your hair, yanking you back so you were close to him as he thrust inside you, his other hand wrapped around your waist to keep you steady. The sounds of skin slapping against skin and you and Bakugou’s moans filled the air as he kept a constant pace inside of you, his balls slapping against you as he pressed sloppy kisses to your back. 

“Katsuki… your cock feels so good,” you whine, pleasure coursing through you when Bakugou’s hand in your hair tightens. 

“That’s right, you fucking love my cock, don’t you? You love my cock stretching you out as much as it can, hah?” Bakugou says with a groan as his thrusts become harder, faster. You’re only able to nod in agreement as your orgasm starts to wash over you in waves, your cunt clenching Bakugou’s dick as your juices drip onto the bed. “Fuck, (Y/N), I’m-.” Bakugou cuts off with a groan as he spills his seed into you, his head pressed into your back as he bites down at the skin; overwhelmed with the orgasm flooding his system. He pulled out of you and pulled you close to him before falling back onto the bed, pulling the covers up around you both. 

“Oh so even though you’re back to normal, you still want to cuddle?” You tease, hearing Bakugou scoff. 

“Shut up. I always want to cuddle you.”

[sleepdeprivedheretic]

Heart of the Wild (Ch.1)

Notes: Here I am, with my favorite tropes and high-key copying the plot to my other fic, Wild Heart. Oh well, I had fun chilling and plotting it with my friend, @mha-girl674 while listening to Celtic Woodland music :3 This story is basically a little self-indulgent “re-write”, but Wild Heart is still up and it’s own fic <3

Pairings: Taishiro x reader, a little bit of Kirideku, and Miro x Tamaki next chapter

Setting: Hybrid Au in medieval times? Ig? Like they have villages and stuff. Idk, imagination :3

Warnings: Self Indulgent Spicy Plot with consensual and self smut thrown in around here and there. Characters are over the age of twenty.

Trigger Warnings: Heats, terrible parents (of the reader), and fear of non-consent, but there is no no-consensual touching, just chasing from an unknown character.

Hot breaths panted into the chilly air from within your chest. You couldn’t feel anything, other than the white heat burn within your feet and legs from the blistering cold. You’ve been running for who knows how long, heart screaming within your chest at the thrill of finally being free, and what a stupid decision that this was.

 It was in the middle of winter, and you’ve chosen now to escape. It was smart as well as stupid, for your parents, thinking that they had you metaphorically tied to a tight leash, would have never expect you to rush out into the cold dead of the winter night.

 They were wrong, but you were suffering. There was no food, lest hardly any shelter or warmth. Your scrap of a tattered cloak, barely weathered the unforgiving wind and snow. Yet, trudging on was the best bet, it was the only bet.  

 At least the cool weather flushed down your heat, but not the scent. Being within a tundra had scared you; not only that there were more ferocious, bigger hybrids that could smell you out, but as well as it was so open. Nowhere to hide, plenty to run, and you’ve practically already exhausted yourself, your natural cycle to breed didn’t help matters, either, for it drained energy, as well.

 Was this better than having your parents keep a constant watch over you? Planning to hand over you to who knows who, in exchange for some pretty fabrics and seeds? Granted that you’ve thought this through in what seemed to be a million times, but you didn’t know what laid outside of your little nomadic tribe.

 Gritting teeth, leaning against a boulder, you gasped as pain shot through your leg. You were use to traveling with your tribe, carrying things for miles, but not running in constant fear into the vast unknown, perhaps miles away from any place that was safe.

 A low whine had cut you out of your thoughts, your head swerving around as a musky scent had now reached you. A fox was staring at you intently, licking his bottom lip as his hands clenched the boulder just ten feet away. Your own rabbit ears folded back in fear, yet his scent had sent yours screaming. Of course, your stupid inner omega was processing the idea of settling down in the tundra raising fox kits, but you weren’t having it.

 It was tempting to just lay down and rest, but not get bent over by the first stranger that you saw, especially one so wild looking and probably was more feral than your clansmen. You bolted. He gave a short yip of frustrated shock, and he chased.  

 This is what you had been fearing for your whole life. If it wasn’t in the back burner of your mind, it was the hungry looks that your clansmen shot your way, the way your parents were only interested in you as a future bargaining chip, and of course, the prospect of getting used by a stranger, and bearing unwanted kits.

 It upset you, and undoubtedly made your resolve to choose your own mate, even greater, if you wanted one, at this point. You didn’t know where you were going, all you knew was that in your fear, the scent had gotten closer, giving the fact that the arctic fox was practically nipping at your heels. You yipped in surprise as pain shot through your foot, after suddenly tripping over a branch, the ground closed in as you squeezed your eyes shut, feeling the impact of the fall hit your arms and side as you tumbled a little ways.

 It didn’t take you long to recuperate, as you scrambled backwards, fearing for the worst yet to come as your back had hit a solid trunk of a tree. Surprise had hit you, for the fox stopped dead in his tracks. Once a musky scent, was now flooded with dread as he stared onward behind you, and then back at you. As if making up his mind after a mental process, he growled in frustration as he let out one last angry yip, before running off.

 Relief had wafted to you, slightly, but you were left with more questions than answers. The tree of all things against your back, and the way the fox had fled in fear, motivated you to turn around. It was a forest, to your utter surprise and shock. Running in a blind panic, you weren’t aware of your surroundings, just the pure fear mixed in with your inner omegas snapping demands to breed, had made you rushed and unfocused.

 By the way the stretch of lush pines and firs, had the forest itself look so dark and intimidating. You had an inkling that the snow and cold, and possibly even sunlight, hadn’t reached within it’s mysterious depths, and it looked oddly inviting. You knew that the fox had fled for a reason, and that it was a stupid idea to even think of venturing inside, but you were out of options.  

  You didn’t want to freeze to death in the snow, after all. Steadying yourself up against the bare cedar you’ve bumped into, you took a step forward, wincing at the pain from your hurt ankle and sore legs. However, the lure of the possibility of safety, was more strong than your will to just lay down. Inching forward into the darkness, you let the trees within guide you. It was dark, at first, but of course, trees could only give only so much shade. Dim, was the more correct use of the word as you inched closer and deeper within the forest’s heart. Despite the atmosphere, the birds were singing to their heart’s content, as you could hear the sound of rushing water in the background somewhere.

 You jumped a little as your foot brushed up against something soft. Green, you couldn’t help but stare in awe at the little patches of grass and clovers littered across it’s floor. It was cold, yes, but not as cold as it was outside the fortress of trees. In what had seemed eerie and intimidating at first, now had filled you with an odd sense of serenity and calmness. The area around it had an odd, yet highly welcomed earthy smell with a splash of something sweet in which had you relaxed and sated the crawling of your heat.

 Why did the fox fear this place? It had seemed so safe. The hairs of the back of your neck had stood up as you stilled. It had took you longer to realize, that the forest’s unique scent, didn’t belong to the forest at all. Eyes widening in realization, your hands gripped the tree that you were leaning up against. Fate, so far, was kind to you, and although you didn’t want to push your luck, you were hopeless and out of options. Was it a bear? Even then, they usually didn’t let their scents be covered in trees like this. It was baffling, as well as a mystery to you, and you wanted to find out.

 Yet, exhaustion had finally taken it’s toll onto your weary body as you could feel your remaining strength just physically drain from you. Tired, hungry, scared, and hurt through the array of emotions, your body had decided that you were going to rest, whether you liked it or not. As you collapsed onto the forest floor, a shout of surprise echoed as your world turned into black.

…………………

 “-tch. Annoyin’ bunnies an’ their heats.” A huff of annoyance broke out into the silence. Once dark, life had filtered through your senses once again as the scent earlier, was the strongest here. Crackling of fire, warmth, and the scent had awakened you as you cracked open your eyelids.

 A house, you couldn’t help but wonder in awe. The fireplace had created a warm atmosphere against the darkened room, lighting up a place of comfort and furs from non-hybrids. You yourself, were in a bed, bandages were wrapped around your hurt ankle and arms as warm blankets had covered you. What had caught your attention most in the lit room, was the tall figure of a man stirring something within a kettle, back turned against you. What had surprised you most definitely, were the orange and black appendages that were his ears and long, swishing tail.

 A tiger? You had wondered. They were rare, here, and more rare if they were orange, those being in the east, not the north. Oddly enough, fear didn’t prickle you, but your heat, just stirring awake with you, had. If he wanted to hurt you, he would have, already, not literally save you from the cold and bandaged your wounds.

 Not wanting to startle him, you rustled a bit, letting the bed creak a little to get his attention. An ear of his flicked as he then turned around, giving you the full view of your mysterious stranger. Curious amber eyes, soft blonde hair, he wasn’t big, but he wasn’t slim, having a hefty amount of a belly fat on him, due to the winter. Years of work had shown on his shoulders, creating muscle mass as well as around his arms and upper chest. Only what has been covering him, was a loose pair of pants. You had to furiously mentally beat your heat and thoughts down with a stick as he then spoke.

“Ya look like a mess.”

 And there it was, the trickle of slick leaked out of you as your face burned with embarrassment and shame and you then covered your face with a downy pillow. A huff of surprised laughter at your expense made you peep out and give the best glare that you could manage, yet the stranger just gave you a grin.

 “I must say, yer lil’ reaction’s a bit different from a lotta other beings bein’ near a tiger. Name’s Taishiro.” To your utmost surprise, he let out a please little purr as he then turned back to the kettle. You gave him your name.

 “So, why is a lil’ thing like yerself doin’ out in the middle of here?” He pondered, as if he already knew the answer, but for conversation’s sake, you enlightened him, watching his tail swish with annoyance at your parents, and ears flickering with interest as you explored the forest.

 “What about you?” You turned to ask. His back stiffened a little, as if caught with surprise at the notion.

 “Came from the east, lookin’ for a new start in life away from my parents. I knew that a lotta others would fear me, but I didn’t know that they’d avoid a whole forest ‘cause of me,” He then took a wooden bowl and ladle, dipping the curved spoon into the bubbling stew as he continued.

 “-granted, I made some friends, even adopted some younglin’s. Strangers just usually don’t come ‘round here.” He finished, pouring the delicious smelling broth into the bowl, tucking a wooden spoon in it as he turned around.

 It was an odd atmosphere, and you were pretty sure that you weren’t dreaming, but for your sake, you went along with it.

“Are you lonely?” You asked bluntly. He froze, and then gave an indigenous huff as he set the bowl down at the table closest to you. Ears flattened and tail swishing, at first you thought that you made him angry, but he avoided your curious stare as he looked rather nervous.

 “Ye’re pretty wordy for somebody who jus’ woke up. Ya must be starvin’, here. T’s not much, but I figured that ya might be hungry.” He changed the subject as he gestured towards the bowl. Telling him your gratitude, you gripped it, lifted a spoonful of the soup, and took a sip. To your surprise, the sweet taste of carrots had mixed in heavenly with the starchy potatoes, crisp lettuce, and the slight bitter bite of spinach.

 “It’s delicious.” You admitted truthfully, not missing the way his ears picked up at the compliment.

 “Thanks to the trees blockin’ the cold, ‘s not hard to grow yer own food. I might be a predator, but I can live without meat.” He rambled, There was so much to say, and many questions left unanswered, but you knew that you were on borrowed time, until your natural cycle would bite back with a vengeance, later. He must have known it, too.

 “The worried look on yer face is a dead giveaway, Hon. I never housed somebody in heat, before, but don’tcha worry ‘bout it. Ya can stay here fer a while, seein’ that a hurt ankle might take longer to heal. I ‘ave some friends that I can stay with.” He rambled, but you looked at him with pure confusion.

 “You’re giving up your home temporarily? For a stranger?” You asked, baffled. At this, his tail swished, as if a little shy.

 “Temporarily. I don’t know what yer plans are in the future, but the forest doesn’t belong to me, ya can hang around an’ have yer own place, within the depths. I couldn’t just leave somebody there, sufferin’ and the brink of death, anyways.” He murmured lowly, but you could hear it clearly. Warmth that wasn’t heat, clouded into your chest at such kindness from the stranger. He was a stranger, yes, but you felt as if you could trust him fully, giving that his actions of helping you and not asking for anything in return, had screamed volumes.

 “Thank you, for everything.” You blurted out, and the corner of his lip twitched upward at your honest gratitude.

“Not a problem, Sweetheart.”

…………………….

 He knew the dangers of housing a slick, hot-blooded omega rabbit, of all beings, had included. What he didn’t expect, was the general bluntness and forwardness of the little thing. Not as timid or shy, but generally open and forward with emotions. Being in the early stages of heat, right now the bunny was coherent, but he knew that it would only last for so long before the true, ugly nature of one’s natural heat cycle, took over.

 “So, here’s what’s gonna happen, Hon. I’m going to stay far away. It’s fer your safety. I might prowl around my area and scent everything, keepin’ unwanted guests, away, but I’m not gonna barge in on yer privacy or be too close to the house.” He told you, laying out a plan. You nodded, setting the empty bowl aside as you listened closely.

 “-believe it or not, I know somebody who could bring ya rations an’ talk with ya after yer heat spells. He’s a dwarf rabbit, an’ already mated to somebody who I see as a son of mine. Since he’s an omega, like yerself, he should be more immune to yer smell. Green hair an’ freckles, can’t miss’im.” Taishiro explained, and you listened with interest, seeing that you weren’t truly alone in your being as well as dynamic.

 “Sorry that we won’t talk, much, but I thought that I’d best introduce myself ‘fore ya wake up alone and scared.”

 “I’m not scared.” You admitted, and he huffed.

 “Now, ye’re not, but if ya woke up alone an’ in a stranger’s house, ya would be.” He argued, and you let him win, seeing that you were too caught up in emotions, and just wanted to process everything. Noticing your state, he gave out a chuckle.

 “Alright, I’ll see ya later, when yer heat’s over. Ya kinda intrigue me, a lil’ bit, so I’m hopin’ that ya might stay, a lil’ while longer after yer heat.” As soon as he admitted it, his ears flattened with embarrassment as he huffed out a sigh, the apples of his cheeks reddening as he swiftly turned around, opening the door, closing it swiftly behind him.

 You bit your bottom lip. For an apex predator who was lethal as well as dangerous, he was almost as soft as a kitten, and you hoped that, at the very least, the two of you could be friends.

………………

  You were weak, you huffed, panting out hot air as one of your hands gripped the pillow, harshly. Usually, you didn’t have a face, or a body in your images as you tried your best to sate the flash of hot emptiness. It has always been nothing but hot and drowsy images of the blurred shapes of your pillow and furs in the past, leaving you unsatisfied and on the brink of frustrated tears.

 This time, you had kindle to feed that ever demanding fire of yours, licking sharply at the heels of your feet as you were on the brink of the edge. Smooth muscle, soft fat, warm amber irises, and that twinge of a smile, had pinned your focus. You felt guilty, but you couldn’t help it, nor could you think clearly of anything nor anybody else.

 He was so friendly and helpful to you, and here you were, ruining his bedding and furs with your slick, fingers deep within you, wrist hurting from the desperate climb, but no full relief avail. Your body couldn’t had waited, as soon as he left with that calming scent, a spike had hit you in where it had hurt, the empty ache shooting up in full demand.

 Where was this man? Your inner omega screamed, but you harshly shushed it, focusing on the edge, and how to clean the sheets, afterwords. In your blurred state, you knew that you had hardly knew him, but already, he was so far the perfect embodiment of what most beings had wanted in a partner. You admitted freely, that you were no different.

 Letting out a small squeak within the bitten pillow, harsh relief shot through you, as you clenched on your fingers desperately, your body trembling and tears pooling from the corners of your eyes at finally, finding a sudden rush of relief.

 You huffed, calming down from your euphoric high as you palmed your face against the pillow in which smelled exactly like him. You were in too deep, you couldn’t help but think, a little guilty for desecrating the hospitality by literally cumming onto his blankets with him in your mind.

……………………….

[onlysarah235678]

A Little Bit Part 12

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x female reader

A/N: Wow so never listen to me when I say how long it will take to update… A lot of stuff happens in this one. Mind the warnings. Who made my gif this time? Illuminated-blue of course ❤

Warnings: Brief physical assault, use of homophobic slurs, vague mentions of domestic violence and vomiting.

When you wake up Sunday morning you are immensely grateful that you don’t have to go into work until 11. You had stayed up until almost 2 in the morning on the phone with Billie. She had gone home after your walk, but she’d called you after she’d taken care of the kittens to check in. You still seemed a little down when she left, which was understandable, but she didn’t like it.

For this reason, as soon as she could, she called you just to talk and keep your mind off certain things. You both ended up getting into bed and chatting about nothing in particular for a couple of hours. Things stayed pretty tame, and talking to her definitely helped you relax. Still, you woke up a little on edge as you just sat in bed for a while. Almost an hour had gone by of you just sitting in bed on your phone when you hear Milo start up the stairs.

As quickly and quietly as possibly you lie back down and throw the covers over you. If Milo sees that you’re awake, he’ll bother you until you take him on a walk. You close your eyes and try to feign sleep for a little bit, but when Milo jumps up on your bed you realize you’ve lost.

Usually, he’ll sit in front of the bed and whine a little, or paw at you. If he knew you were up though, he would jump on the bed and then on you.

You really needed to teach Milo about sleeping in on Sundays.

As expected, your dog is already climbing on you and searching for your head. He liked to lick your face to wake you up, and you had to push him away as you groaned in disgust and defeat.

Guess you were getting up.

After changing into clothes that you wouldn’t mind seeing yourself in later, you lead Milo outside and away from your apartment building. You decide to take him a little farther than usual since you have more time before you need to get to work. He of course loves it, but you end up regretting not taking the time to check the ‘news’ for any updates on you and Billie.

You were on your phone for an hour, but it hadn’t even occurred to you that you should check on that. You really should know better by now. You walk down a street you’ve become familiar with because it has the bakery that you love. You are already thinking about donuts as you walk through the front doors still only half awake.

You smile at the woman behind the counter, muttering a quiet ‘hi’ before glancing over the menu. You only decide on the pastry you want before she speaks up. You didn’t hear what she is saying because your mind was fully on what to have for breakfast, so you frown in confusion before making the mistake of asking her to repeat herself.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

The redhead pulls her phone out of her pocket and presses a few buttons before showing you what she was talking about.

“Is this you?”

It takes you a second to realize what you’re looking at because the video isn’t very good. It was taken at night and it was kind of fuzzy and far away. Eventually you recognize Billie as she pulls away from you, and your eyes widen giving the woman the only answer she needed.

You leave without your pastry and you’re more than a little pissed as you pull out your phone to call Billie. You’re too distracted by the task at hand, that you don’t notice the car coming as you cross the road. The driver lays on the horn and you jump in surprise before scrambling back onto the sidewalk. You have a half grimace and half apologetic look on your face as the car passes you before you look both ways like an adult and try again. Luckily Milo was smarter than you and hadn’t even stepped out on to the street yet.

“Come on, Milo. Let’s try and figure out what’s going on.”

Billie is still in bed when you call her because it is Sunday after all. It’s Sunday and not even 9 am yet. Billie sighs before sitting up and reaching for her phone. Seeing that it’s you makes her smile, and she’s quick to answer it as she runs a hand through her hair.

“Good morning, Y/N.”

You smile immediately at the sleep you hear in Billie’s voice before sighing happily. You’re almost back to your apartment and Milo is picking up the pace because it’s breakfast time. Actually, it’s your breakfast time, but that doesn’t matter to him. He likes watching you eat because more often than not he gets some of whatever you’re eating. Not because you give it to him, but you tend to be an absentminded and messy eater.

“Morning, Billie. I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

You nearly curse yourself for the tension you can hear in your own voice. You know that Billie will pick up on it and you just wait for her to ask.

She doesn’t waste any time at all. Not that you expected her to.

“It’s not a problem, sweetheart. Is everything alright?”

You can’t help but smile at the fact that you were right about Billie picking up on your stress. You didn’t want to ruin her day with this, but you didn’t want to hide it either. It didn’t even occur to you that she might have heard it from someone else either way.

You and Milo walk into your apartment building and you press the button for the elevator impatiently. You hit it another few times before sighing in defeat. You turn toward the stairwell at the end of the hall and head that way with Milo in tow.

“Apparently there is a video of us on the internet.”

You wait until you’re sure you have Billie’s attention before you tell her what you saw. It was a video from Friday night when you and Milo went to Billie’s place. As you describe the short video showing you sitting on the kitchen counter with Billie standing in between your legs, you open the door to the stairwell and let Milo go through first. When Billie asks how you found out about this, you tell her about how you went on a walk with Milo to your favorite bakery.

“Yeah, the woman working there told me, and I was so weirded out I didn’t even get my donut.”

Billie laughs at this as she smiles sympathetically. She knows how important your sugar is to you and she realizes you must have been pretty thrown off to leave without it. She waits until you’re done talking to Milo, apparently he’s going too fast for so early in the morning, before speaking up.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. That must have been uncomfortable.”

You laugh under your breath because it was very awkward for the three seconds you spend debating whether or not you should leave empty-handed. You opened your mouth to say this when you hear the door on the second floor open and you watch as someone walks out. You hold back your groan of annoyance because this person, your downstairs neighbor is a pain in the ass. He is a homophobic asshole who has no problem sharing his feelings with you every time you run into each other. Luckily this was only the third time since you started seeing Billie.

You start up the next flight of stairs until you remember that you haven’t responded to Billie. You smile before mentioning the end of your trip to the bakery.

“No, it was great. I--.”

Billie was just thinking about getting out of bed when you’re cut off mid-sentence. She frowns in confusion when she hears Milo start barking and a series of thuds as you drop the phone. You tumble down the stairs, hitting your head against the wall as you reach the bottom. You curse before looking up to see the blurry figure that just shoved you continue down the stairs like nothing happened. You realize a few seconds later that Milo’s following him.

“Milo, stop.”

It takes you a moment to regain your bearings and you cringe as you reach for your head. You’re sure you will have a nice bump forming pretty soon. With another groan, you get to your knees before you hiss in pain. Damn that hurt.

“Fuck you, Doug.”

You mutter this under your breath because your head hurts too much to speak any louder. You grit your teeth as you hear his response followed by the sound of Milo yelping.

“Screw you, dyke."

You sit up straight at the sound and feel your head swim as you look around frantically for Milo. You finally spot him shaking his head at the bottom of the stairs and you call him up quickly.

“Milo, come here, boy. Are you okay?”

You wait until Milo is close enough for you to reach out to him. You don’t see anything wrong with him, but you can’t be sure given how dazed you still feel. You sigh as you pull Milo closer to you until you can find where his leash is attached to his collar so you can grab it. You pull him closer before you attempt to get up.

The sound of Billie’s voice coming from somewhere reminds you that you were on the phone with her. You’d completely forgotten.

“Y/N? Are you there? Hello?”

You look around for your phone, but you don’t see it immediately. You move around Milo and frown when you still don’t see it. How far could it have gone? You manage to get to your feet using the wall for support before you take another look around. You finally find it down on the steps headed down to the first floor. You move too quickly to get it and you stumble over Milo before you manage to grab the hand rail with a curse.

“Fuck.”

You slowly kneel down to grab it before standing up again slowly. How it’s not broken you have no idea, but you’re not going to question it. You put the phone to your ear and tighten your hold on Milo’s leash. He’s leaning against you in a way that’s making you more unbalanced. You hurry to lean against the wall before you squeeze your eyes shut to try and recover enough to respond coherently.

“Y/N? What’s going on? Are you alright?”

You sigh again before you respond, your voice a little more telling than you were hoping it would be.

“Hi, sorry. I’m here. I just--.”

You’re not sure why you’re apologizing for someone pushing you down the fucking stairs and you roll your eyes at your stupidity. You don’t get to stumble through your explanation before Billie’s speaking again.

“What just happened, Y/N? Did you fall?”

You merely huff in annoyance as you start up the stairs. You decide not to take the next three flights and just make it to the second floor so you can take the elevator. You don’t trust yourself not to misstep. Especially since you’re on the phone.

“Yes. Well no. This asshole in my building pushed me.”

Billie isn’t sure that she heard you right. Well, no she knows she did because despite sounding ticked and winded, you spoke clearly. Instead, Billie’s trying to figure out who the fuck thought they could pull something like this. Looks like she had more than one person to sue.

“Are you alright? Did you get hurt?”

You finally make it to the top of the stairs and you groan as you lead Milo out into the hallway.

“I hit my head a little, but I’m fine.”

You walk down the hall and make it to the elevator before Billie speaks up. You didn’t even realize how much time had passed before her worried voice snaps your attention back to her.

“Do you need to go see a doctor?”

You’re already shaking your head because it’s past 9:00 and you have to get ready for work. You haven’t eaten yet and you feel yourself getting slightly cranky at the thought. You step into the elevator with Milo on your heels before pressing the button for your floor with a little more force than necessary.

“No, it’s okay, Billie. I’ll be fine. I have work soon anyway.”

Again, you don’t notice Billie’s silence because you’re concentrating on getting to your apartment so you can get something to eat. You don’t know that Billie is debating whether or not you are making the right decision. She doesn’t want to boss you around, but she’s worried that you’re more hurt than you let on. Finally, Billie sighs before she shakes her head in defeat. She’s reaching for a cigarette on her nightstand when she finally asks.

“Okay. Will you call me to check in?”

You smile despite the fact that you can’t promise when this will happen, but you’re all too willing to do this for her. Once your apartment door is opened you let Milo go before closing the door behind you with a nod.

“Of course, but don’t worry okay? I’ll be fine.”

After convincing Billie that you will call her when you get a chance, you get ready for work as you usually would. After making breakfast and drinking a little more than usual you feel pretty good. You take something for the headache you anticipate having before you get dressed and ready to go. Milo’s already waiting for you at the door and you put on his harness and leash before heading out.

You make it to work without incident. You put Milo in his kennel until lunch in a couple of hours before you head up to your office. You smile at the sight of the flowers still there before you put your stuff down and sigh in anticipation. The clinic doesn’t open for a bit so you have time to take a look and see what your day is going to consist of.

You sit down in front of your computer and turn it on. You kill time waiting for it to boot up by checking your phone again. You see that Billie texted you and you frown in confusion before just shrugging in indifference. You don’t know Doug’s last name, but you have plenty of descriptors you can give Billie. You’re too focused on figuring out your day to even think about why Billie would want that information.

Billie’s finally up and out of bed, ready to start the day. After checking on the kittens she hurries to get to work. She has Mickey in her lap as she’s working at the dining room table. She is emailing Jeff her media guru to figure out where this video came from. She assumed it was from the same tabloid that released the morning after story, but she couldn’t be sure. After she sends this, she double checks her phone to see if you texted back. She records everything you say about Doug, even the profanities in her computer in case she needs it for later.

Since she knows you don’t work tomorrow, she plans on dragging you to the doctor kicking and screaming if she has to. She can be just as stubborn as you are, and in this case, she doesn’t plan on giving in. Billie sighs in defeat before shutting her computer. She looks down at Mickey in her lap, and smiles as he responds to her scratches with a quiet purr. She hadn’t planned on doing much today, but now she feels like her entire day will just be worrying about you.

Against her better judgement, Billie decides to watch the video again. It’s only about 20 seconds, but she still finds it disturbing that someone had crept into her backyard without either of you noticing. As the video ends, she furrows her brows slightly as she recalls something peculiar that you hadn’t really explained to her.

You had just played off her concern with a smile and a joke as you normally did. However, Billie could tell that this was somehow related to something from your past that she didn’t know about. Something that had been significant enough for Milo to pick up on it. She didn’t know what to make of it, but she planned to find out. If there was something she could do to help you or reassure you, she would do it.

Lunchtime rolled around without anything too interesting happening in appointments or otherwise. You weren’t sure what to eat and were on your way downstairs when someone from reception came back to treatment with a box of donuts.

You eye them curiously when you notice the name on the box. They’re from that bakery you failed to get breakfast from this morning, but you don’t get a chance to ask before Erin arrives.

“Oh donuts! That’s awesome! Where’d they come from?”

Erin’s already reaching for the card before she realizes that it has your name on it. She and Marissa share a look that you miss as the latter hands the note to you.

“For you, Dr. Y/L/N.”

You only wonder for a second who it’s from before you recognize the handwriting. You smile at the sweet note before you open the box and your eyes grow dark.

You loved donuts.

You see a dozen of the most appetizing donuts you’ve ever laid eyes on and you almost reach out for them before you look to Marissa and Erin who are just watching you.

“Go ahead you two. I’ll get one in a second.”

You watch as the pair eyes the chocolate frosted, sprinkled and glazed donuts hungrily before you go wash your hands. You hear Erin groan from behind you and you smile once you finish up and turn back around to see her with only half a donut and satisfied look on her face that makes you want to laugh out loud.

“Your girlfriend is the best, doc.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but you’re caught off guard by this. You still couldn’t help but smile at the thought before you moved to grab a donut too. You’ll have to get some real food before you eat too many of these donuts, but for now you were going to enjoy yourself. So you just nod in response to Erin’s comment before taking a bite of chocolate.

You can’t hide the smug little smile that breaks across your face at the thought of being able to call Billie Dean your girlfriend.

“She definitely is.”

Billie is on the phone with Michelle when you call her. After ordering yourself a healthier lunch you retreat back up to your office with a slight grimace. Your head still hurts and you had about an hour before you could take anything else. So to pass the time you plan on finishing up some work and calling Billie to thank her and check in.

“Michelle, let me call you back, okay?”

After receiving an ‘ok’ in response, Billie answers your call with a smile. She had been wondering how you were doing and didn’t waste any time.

“Y/N. How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

You smile widely before you lean back in your chair and close your eyes. You weren’t sure why you thought you wouldn’t have to answer this question immediately.

“Hi, Billie. I’m great thanks. I’ve eaten too many donuts and my head only hurts a little.”

Billie laughs as she thinks about this. She knows how much you like food, and it’s so cute to see you get so excited. She wishes she could have been there to see your face.

“I’m glad you liked them, but are you really feeling alright?”

For the next few minutes, you and Billie talk about what your days have consisted of so far. You mentioned how work was a little hectic, but not bad at all. You also only have about 4 hours left. You were surprised to hear that Billie was talking to her assistant about the video. Rather, you were surprised by the attention it was receiving.

“Wait, what? People think you were...?”

You trail off as you think back to the short clip that you’d seen this morning. It was just you and Billie kissing in her kitchen. Nothing special. Well, you thought it was special, but you didn’t know why anyone else cared. You definitely didn’t get what Billie was saying about people’s reactions.

“They thought I was forcing myself on you.”

You nearly laugh at this but you stop short because you recognize the tension underlying Billie’s words. She seems more concerned about this than you would have thought. Sure, it wasn’t a good thing to have people believing things like that about you, but Billie could make it right. She could release a statement or just wait until her interview.

“That’s ridiculous.”

You say this absentmindedly as you look to your slightly wilted flowers. They still smell great and you breathe in deeply just to get more of them. It isn’t until you hum to yourself that you realize that Billie hasn’t responded.

“Billie?”

The medium sighs as she tries to figure out how to mention what’s really bothering her without being too obvious. She knows that Michelle and Jeff can deal with any bad press this video gets. That’s not what she’s worried about at the moment.

“I know, Y/N. It just doesn’t look good.”

You nod at this because you’d already decided that it didn’t. Whoever thought they saw you running away from Billie didn’t understand what had really happened. You weren’t too keen on sharing what that was, but if Billie was worried, you’d figure out how to explain it without revealing too much.

You weren’t really ready to talk about that yet.

“I know, Billie, but it will be okay.”

Both you and Billie sit in silence for a few seconds. She thinks about how her attempt to get you to confess what really happened failed, while you decide whether or not to even mention it. You eventually fall back on your decision to be as honest as possible with Billie. The decision is made easier by the fact that Billie hasn’t judged you for your past yet, and you trust her enough to share this.

“You know that wasn’t it. Milo just…he was going to try to get you away from me.”

That was the truth, but definitely not really an explanation. Billie was smart enough to figure this out on her own, you were sure, so you were really just buying time to see how she reacted to you saying, or rather confirming her belief. You sigh as you cringe slightly before getting to the point when Billie doesn’t say anything.

“He’s just really protective of me, and he didn’t like you touching me. Even if I did.”

Billie smiles to herself at your words, and her mind’s already wandering to touching you again when you speak up. Billie hadn’t been expecting you to be so blunt, but she had always known that you were full of surprises. Good and bad. This wasn’t one of the good ones.

“Remember how I told you I got him from an ex? Well, she wasn’t the nicest.”

Erin was sitting up front in reception with Lindsey for the first real break she’s had all day. She was finishing up her donut when she peeked out the window to see that the same car that was here when she arrived this morning hadn’t left. They were just waiting around like always and Erin rolled her eyes as she looked to the blonde sitting next to her.

“Do you think they’ll ever give up, Lins?”

The blonde in question turns to where Erin is looking and simply sighs. It had only been a week of this, but it was getting old quickly. She felt bad for you because you honestly were just trying to do your own thing. You had just moved here and barely had a month under your belt when all of this happened.

“I don’t know, but I hope so.”

They both look for a few more seconds before Lindsey turns back to Erin with a curious look. She knows how much of a fan the brunette is of Billie Dean, so she’s really only asking for clarification. She shifts a little in her seat so she’s facing her friend.

“Hey, Erin. Have you seen that video?”

She and Erin were the only ones up here for now since Marissa is on lunch, and Mina was in the back so she didn’t need to worry about being overheard. Erin turns to Lindsey with a slight grimace before she nods in answer. There’s no point in lying because she knew that Lindsey knew her better than that. She just nodded again before sitting up and crossing her legs. She listens briefly to make sure that you were still upstairs before speaking.

“Yeah, I saw it before work. I don’t really--.”

She pauses as she thinks about what she saw and how out of context, it didn’t make a lot of sense. She’d blushed heavily at the sight of you and Billie so intimate, but almost as quickly, she’d been confused by how fast it ended. You’d practically flown off the counter toward something. The video had ended before she saw where you went, and despite watching it an embarrassing number of times, she didn’t know what to make of it.

“Yeah, I get what you mean.”

Erin turns to Lindsey in confusion because she wasn’t sure that Lindsey would know where her hesitation came from. She was surprised; however, when Lindsey practically said what she couldn’t find the words to articulate.

“It looked a little sketch at first, but there has to be an explanation, right?”

Erin nodded in agreement smiling as she started to come to your defense, but she was interrupted by the front door opening. She sat up assuming it was a client, but then she saw the delivery bag and she knew what it was. She stood up in anticipation before nodding when the man said the fake name you’d started using. You learned the first time a nosey employee asked too many questions that it was best to be as incognito as possible.

“Order for Misty Gish?”

Erin has to stop herself from laughing as she takes the bag with an appreciative smile. She doesn’t know how you come up with these things sometimes.

After telling Lindsey that she’ll be right back, Erin heads toward the stairs and up to the second floor. She doesn’t hear anything other than Mina in the back cleaning until she’s at the top of the stairs. Since you’re the only doctor working today, it’s pretty quiet upstairs and Erin can hear you talking to someone.

“No, she didn’t hit me. She just pushed me around for a while and Milo didn’t—oh hey Erin!”

Your chair comes to a stop mid-spin as the brunette appears in your doorway with your lunch. You smile widely as you take it from her with a muttered thank you, watching as Erin smiles apologetically before she starts to back out into the hall.

“Here you go. Sorry to interrupt.”

Erin would be lying if she said she hadn’t been listening to what you were saying. It raised a lot of questions that she wouldn’t dare to ask you.

You smile as you set the bag on your desk, having to move your phone that you had haphazardly thrown down when you saw Erin. You shake your head before mentioning offhandedly.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m just talking to Billie. Thank you for this!”

Erin nods before she heads back downstairs with a contemplative look. She thought about what you had said to Billie before shaking her head. It wasn’t her business, but hopefully Billie was taking better care of you than this nameless woman.

Once Erin’s gone, you sigh before reaching for your phone with a smile.

“Sorry about that Billie, but I have food now.”

Billie laughs at this before rolling her eyes at the excitement she hears in your voice. She was glad that you were getting fed because you still had a while until you were done with work.

“I heard. I’m happy for you, sweetheart.”

You’re too excited about your food to roll your eyes at Billie’s teasing tone. You instead sigh again as you take a peek into the bag and sniff your food like a dog.

“Should I leave you two alone?’

This time you do roll your eyes and you laugh dryly at Billie’s words. You push your food away before shaking your head as you stand up to close the door. You probably should have done this before, but it was a little late now. Either way you knew that you hadn’t quite finished your explanation.

“Ha. Ha. Thanks, but I can wait until I finish telling you why Milo is my favorite dog to date.”

When your next appointment arrives, you’re not feeling any better despite having eaten. Your headache was getting worse instead of better and you’d already taken as much medicine for it as you could. You just had to power through the next few hours then you could go home and fall asleep watching something mindless.

You don’t realize how tired you are until you almost get bitten by a cat with an ear infection. You smile and eventually make it through the rest of the appointment unscathed. When they leave at 3:30 you are dreading your next appointment. You still feel tired no matter how much coffee you drink and you find out, as you try to work on your records, that you barely write a coherent sentence. You groan in annoyance as you delete the gibberish you’d written yet again before Erin comes back to let you know the next patient was ready for you.

You hold back another groan as you nod in acknowledgement before closing the note in front of you. You’re not sure any of what you’d written is right, but you can’t worry about that now. Your brain is just not working correctly at the moment.

“Is everything alright, Dr. Y/L/N?”

You’re lying through your teeth when you tell her you’re fine, but you manage a smile before you stand up to follow her. Your head spins a little, but you just take a second to steady yourself before continuing on. You walk into the exam room and introduce yourself to the owner and the adorable old golden that greets you by covering you with fur. You are glad this is just a wellness visit because as you do your exam and continue talking with the owner you feel yourself fading. You give Bernie his vaccines and answer any questions that Bernie’s owner has before you send the pair on their way.

You leave the room at an uncharacteristically slow pace before shutting the door behind you. You lean against the wall and close your eyes as you listen to the pounding of your pulse against your skull. You force yourself to take a deep breath but somehow this just makes it worse and you grimace in pain.

Water.

Maybe water would help stop your raging headache.

You start heading back toward treatment, but the second you open your eyes you feel disoriented. You groan before stopping at the door and closing your eyes once again. You manage to pull it open and stumble inside before heading toward the sink without looking.

“Woah, are you okay, doc?”

You don’t hear Mina as you brace your hands on the edge of the sink. You squeeze your eyes shut as you try to will away the pain but even that doesn’t work. In fact, this makes it much worse. Your pulse is deafening and you feel so nauseous just from the sound you think you might throw up.

By the time Mina makes it over to you, you’re shaking from the effort of staying upright. You don’t hear what Mina says, but when she reaches you to steady you, you double over and throw up into the sink, and on the floor. Mina’s quick to grab you as you start falling, and she curses before calling for help.

“Shit! Erin!? Somebody help me!”

It’s only a few seconds before Mina hears the sound of hurried footsteps. The door to treatment opens to reveal a wide-eyed and confused Erin who practically screams when she sees you on the floor unconscious.

“Shit! What happened?”

Mina shakes her head because she has no idea. She saw you dragging your feet a little bit today, but she thought it was because you were simply tired. She tried not to get into your personal business, but she figured your new relationship was to blame for your fatigue. This; however, this was something completely different.

“I don’t know, she just threw up and collapsed.”

Erin was already running for the phone when Marissa arrived. She was quick to ask Mina if she could help, and she grabbed your arm to search for your pulse while Mina left to find a stethoscope. Erin was looking on nervously as she spoke with the dispatcher frantically.

“911 what’s your emergency?”

“We need an ambulance at Sunset vet clinic. Our doctor just passed out and she’s not waking up!”

Part 13

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Valued Possessions

Word Count: 1.9k  

Pairing: Trainer!Izuku/Dragon-Shifter!Reader

Synopsis: Izuku’s rather fond of his newest find, an exotic Dragon-Shifter set to join his ever-growing collection of beasts and monsters. It’s a shame he has to break you in before he can expect you to fall in line.

TW: Violence, Abuse of Power, Kidnapping, Dehumanization, and Captivity. 

“It’s been a while since I’ve had a dragon.”

His voice is smooth, unaffected, an ongoing drawl as practiced as the nonchalant smile that tugs at the corners of his lips. It’s been there since you arrived, since his obnoxious, noisy lackeys pulled you out of a cage with iron bars, a muzzle locked over your mouth and shackles around your wrists and ankles, the broken remains of four identical restraints laid at your feet. Izuku, as he insists you call him, saw fit to do away with the muzzle, but you couldn’t be thankful, not when he makes it so clear he’d prefer you keep quiet. You’d already had to endure his humming while he wound your chains around the stone pillar you were currently kneeling in front of, a solitary structure in the center of the cavernous tent he seemed to call home. If an off-tune melody is your reward for cooperation, you have no desire to find out what misbehavior will earn.

Silently, you make plans to tear out his tongue, then his vocal cords, and if you’re feeling generous, his lungs. Anything he could use to get on your nerves.

“Dragons are such wondrous creatures.” He’s behind you, now, his light footsteps only made softer by the bare earth that makes up his floor. It’s just soil and grass, but it’s biting into your knees nonetheless, wedging itself between your scales and doing nothing to aid the steady, pulsing ache in your calves, tight knots of pressure and tension you couldn’t shake out. You need to stand, to stretch, and while you’re all-but sure Izuku can sense your discomfort, you know you won’t be permitted to move until you’re ready to beg for it. Needless cruelty is a staple of humanity, and he’s given you no reason to think him any better than than the rest of his kin. “I used to have a few friends like you - halfbreeds. Half human, half reptile.” Izuku pauses, letting out a disgruntled huff. His own, personal, unpleasant joke. “Although, Kacchan could hardly be called anything but a nuisance.”

You narrow your eyes, speaking under your breath. “You’re one to talk.”

If he hears you, he doesn’t deem the comment worthy of indulgence. Rather, Izuku takes the opportunity to edge closer, the fabric of his thick gloves rustling before falling away completely, his bare fingertips soon brushing against the unprotected, fleshy skin of your shoulder-blade, just above the base of your wing. Automatically, you jerk away, balling your hands into fists and curling into yourself, but Izuku only laughs, the sound breathy and arrogant. The laugh of a man watching his skittish pet shy away from his touch, too simple-minded to realize that it can only run to the end of its leash. “You’re prettier than Kacchan. Fewer scars, duller talons... your scales are a nice color, too,” He says. Then, as if you don’t already know, he adds “They match your eyes.”

You don’t respond, biting the edge of your tongue, but Izuku is already preoccupied. Idly, his attention shifts towards the nape of your neck, his fingers dancing over the patch of scales that protect the top of your spine. He follows the shape, where it narrows and dips, guarding only what’s necessary before trickling to a stop completely, only to pick up again below your knees. With a discontented, throaty noise, he stabs his thumb violently into small of your back, his unoccupied hand clamping around your shoulder as you cry out, more out of shock than pain. Whatever he’s searching for, he doesn’t find, something he makes apparent with an unsatisfied purse of his lips. “No tail.”

You grit your teeth, but it fails to quell your anger. “Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed,” You spit, raising your voice before you can make yourself regret the action. “I thought you had eyes--”

Izuku doesn’t care for that. Before you can find a proper end to your insult, something flat and sharp bites into your skin, the vulnerable tissue of the back of your thigh. There’s an eruption of flame beneath your skin, but it fades quickly, leaving a scalding, lasting pain in its wake. One that burnt more than it should’ve. One that hurt more than you’d care to admit. A whip, you realize, just in time for the second blow. You don’t remember when he picked it up, but you don’t particularly care, either. A weapon is a weapon, and the fact that he has the gull to turn one against you at all is enough to make your broiling hate boil over.

“That’s not the kind of language you’re going to use with me,” He coos, his voice nothing short of benign, as if he hadn’t just struck you for no other reason than his own perceived superiority. “We’re friends, are we not? There’s no reason to take that tone with me, not when you and I want the same thing.” Slow, deep circles are pushed into the dip of your shoulder, Izuku’s half-hearted attempt to comfort you. It does little to erase the furious red streaks now decorating your skin. “You want to survive, and I want to see you flourish. If I have to hurt you, it’s only because you’ve done something to warrant discipline.”

“It’s because you’re a sadist,” You grunt, flexing your claws, testing the strength of your chains. They hold true, rattling under their own weight at the slightest shift, reassuring you that you wouldn’t be able to escape them, not without giving Izuku time to do something much worse than inflict a momentary pain. “If you didn’t enjoy this, you wouldn’t--”

Another strike forces your breath to hitch, colliding with your shoulder and seeping onto your chest. Your scales distance the pain, but that only means it lingers, carving out a place in your memory before it began to fade. You don’t cry out, for fear that any sound of displeasure will earn another blow.

Izuku doesn’t bother with a warning when he takes up one of your wings, instead, tearing it away from your back until the appendage is stretched to its full length. It flutters, attempting to tuck back into a position more in tune with its twin, but Izuku’s grip is firm, keeping it in place as he idly runs a finger down a prominent ridge, following the shape from the bend of your wing until it disappears into leathery sinew. You shudder, and Izuku pretends not to notice. “Beautiful wings,” He notes. “It’s a good pair. If I cut them off and sell them to the highest bidder, I’d make a small fortune. Enough to fund your upkeep, and a little extra... It’d only be fair, wouldn’t it?”

It’s involuntary. You don’t say anything, you’re smart enough to bite your tongue and keep quiet, but there’s a twitch, a delayed effort to keep yourself docile, and that’s enough for Izuku. With a light chuckle and a step back, his foot implants itself in your spine, knocking you forward, your chest crashing haphazardly into the stone pillar. The edge collides with your chest, slotting itself between your ribs and refusing to move until a bruise is blooming across your diaphragm. You scream, the noise high-pitched and cut short by your own pride, but Izuku doesn’t pull back. If anything, more of his weight comes to rest on you, the sole of his boot making itself at home on your skin. Taking pleasure in doing so, at that.

“You’re mine,” He growls, the declaration a ridicule in itself. “I paid for you, I brought you here, and now, you belong to me. You’re a monster, and I am the loving, caring hand that’s going to make sure you don’t stumble into another trap or get skinned for your hide. I’m doing you a favor, and you will be thankful for it.” He grinds his heel down, driving a small, pathetic whine from somewhere deep in your throat. Tiny, insignificant, and exactly what Izuku’s looking for. “You’re going to be happy, and I’m going to take very, very good care of you. We’ll work hand in hand as master and pet, and you’ll enjoy every minute of it.”

“I’m not an animal.” It takes more restraint that it should not to hiss the words, not to make a fact into a warning. If you hadn’t been captured, restrained and collared like an unruly mutt, you would’ve strung him to the nearest tree branch with his own intestines hours ago, and you would’ve done so with joy. It’s a difficult feat not to let that impact the way you speak. “I’m not human, but I’m not a monster, either. I’m not mindless.” You swallow dryly, remaining quiet for a moment, but Izuku fails to cut in. It’s a relief, and yet, his silence is enough to make you shrink into yourself, your confidence unshaken but suppressed. “You can’t treat me as if I am, not if you expect me to be grateful.”

A second passes, and you begin to hold your breath. But, Izuku’s eventual response comes without malice. “Yes, I can.”

It’s all you can do to remember how to talk. “What?”

“I can.” He pulls away, the pressure falling away from your back, but you don’t move, staying slouched over the pillar as if it was a lifeline, rather than a hindrance. Slowly, he circles to face you, and for the first time, you can see him clearly. His attire, all well-worn tunics and clothes made to guard against creatures much more imposing than yourself, his pale skin, littered with scars from his neckline to his wrists, and his eyes, dark and foreboding and so terrible, focused on you and unwilling to center on everything else, even when you manage to rip yourself away. Your head bows before you can summon your courage, but Izuku’s quick to correct your posture, his fingers soon rooted in your hair, wrenching you upward and forcing you to meet his gaze. He’s done giving you a choice, if he was ever willing to. “And I will. You might’ve been something before, but now, you’re one of my beasts, and I intend to train you appropriately. You’ll be grateful for my generosity, or I’ll make you act like you are. Regardless of how much I have to shave away to reach the golden, obedient core I know you have.”

Instinctually, you bare your teeth, but the gesture is feeble, much too little and far too late. Izuku only smiles as he leans forward, pushing a quick, chaste kiss into your forehead. You’d say it seems apologetic, but his broad, remorseless grin crushes your hope before it can start to take shape. “Be thankful,” He says, standing to his full height.

Somehow, he seems so much taller than he was, seconds ago.

“I might be the only person who sees you as human enough to warrant such thorough efforts.”

[djarinslover]

Pretty Lover

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x F! Reader (no y/n)

Warnings: swearing, bdsm dynamic, male feminization, Dom/sub, male penetration, food play, fluff, SMUT 

Word Count: 3K

A/N: I finally finished writing this after, what? A few months? I’m sorry, I SUCK at keeping up with writing and I’m trying to do better. Please enjoy this and let me know if you wanted to be tagged or untagged. Part two of Good Boy Xxxx

Part one here:

Maxwell went home earlier than you did that night. You had a few things to catch up on in the office. Plus, you wanted to keep him anticipating what the night would hold. He had his instructions - set the table, have dinner ready (though the chef would take care of that), and be kneeling in front of the door with his leash and collar in hand when you got home. Naked. You couldn’t wait.

Finishing up paperwork with a sigh, you stretch and check your watch. Quarter to six. You shove from your desk, slipping your heels on as you call the limo driver.

“Richard, I’m done.”

“I’ll be waiting outside for you, Mrs. Lord.”

‘Mrs. Lord.’ The title bounced around in your head as you walked to the elevator. You and Maxwell were an item, yes. But he had never mentioned marriage, or even hinted at it. You didn’t mind; he was Maxwell Lord, known for hustling and charming as many women as he could. Marriage wasn’t exactly something you thought of a lot, either. Sure, it would be nice to call Maxwell your husband. In fact, the thought had your cheeks warm. But, until he brought it up, you wouldn’t say anything. You didn’t want to scare him away with one of the most vanilla things in the world. That wasn’t his style; he was kinky more than anything.

Richard was holding the door open for you when you stepped outside, gaze focused on the ground. You slid into the car, resting your head back as you blow out a breath. It had been a long day (your sexcapade aside) and all you wanted to do was curl up with Maxwell. Then, you remembered he was wearing a cock ring. He was probably waiting for you at the door now, cock hard and dripping as his knees hurt from the hardwood floor. The thought made heat race through your belly, warm and not so subtle. Biting your lip, you pull your phone out to send him a message.

‘My pet better be ready for me.’

It took exactly a minute to receive an answer. It was a picture of him on his knees, mouth hanging with drool running down his chin. You could see he was shirtless. Another picture followed. This was of his hard cock looking so pretty in the pink cock ring. Your thighs clenched, pussy tingling with arousal.

‘Be home in five. I can’t wait to see how well you’re sitting for me, pet.’ 

You didn’t receive an answer back, but it just excited you more. You couldn’t stop thinking of all the things you wanted to do tonight.

Exactly five minutes like you said, you arrived home. Richard parked the car, then exited to open the door for you. You thanked him over your shoulder, too eager to get inside. Luckily, the door had been left unlocked for you. When you stepped in, your bag and jaw dropped.

There sat your boyfriend, looking so pretty and delicious. He was still wearing the pink cock ring like the good boy he was. The leash and collar were also on. But what really caught your eye was something you hadn’t seen before, especially not on him - lingerie. He was wearing a gray bra and panties with pink flowers and white lace, along with a garter belt attached to gray stockings. He also had on a pair of black heels. A smirk curled along his lips as he watched your expression. He sat up straighter, holding his leash out with a glimmer of glee in his eyes.

“Welcome home, Mistress.”

“Wow, darling. Did you have this planned for a while?” you ask, finally managing to walk towards him. You circled him, eyeing up every angle.

“It was rather spontaneous. I bought all this after our session in the office.” He stuck his ass out as you walked around him, a purr in his voice. “Dinner is ready, if you are hungry, Mistress.”

You gather yourself, picking up your bag. “Yes, pet, I am. Put my things away, will you?”

Maxwell crawled over to you, leaning down to press a kiss to both of your feet. He peered up, lashes framing the dark look growing in his pupils. Arousal licked at your insides, spreading along your spine and tingling down your fingertips. He stood, taking your bag and heading to the dining room. You followed, admiring the way his ass looked in the panties and the way the heels made it looks more defined. You bit your lip, thinking you two will have to invest in more lingerie for him, along with heels. You didn’t understand why seeing him dressed like that got you all hot and bothered, but you couldn’t bring yourself to complain. You even noted he walked pretty fucking well in those heels.

Dinner was laid out with candles and rose petals. You laugh, picking up a petal. “How cliché.’

“You love the cliché.” 

“Mmm, I beg to differ.” You stalk up to him, looping a finger through his collar to bring his face to yours. He blushed, lip caught between his teeth. “You dressing like this isn’t very cliché, is it?”

He shook his head, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. You let go, sliding away to sit down. He quickly joined, the two of you eating dinner in silence. He had the chef prepare you a steak, potatoes and green beans just the way you liked it. Not a super fancy dinner but something that would give you energy for the night ahead. You ate slowly, making sure Maxwell was watching the way your lips wrapped around the fork, the way your tongue licked it clean. His eyes followed every little move you made.

After about half an hour of eating in silence, he cleared his throat. “May I be excused, Mistress?”

“You may.”

You offered your plate to Maxwell and he took it, scurrying off to the kitchen. When he returned, he was carrying a small box and a can of whipped cream. You cock an eyebrow, watching as he came closer with a small smirk on his cute lips. The box contained chocolate covered strawberries. A favorite treat of yours.

“Shall we have dessert in the bedroom?” Maxwell asked, extending a hand to you.

You smile, reaching for his head. The two of you walk to your bedroom, giggling from the excitement you were feeling. Max let you step into the room first, letting you see the various toys laid on the bed, plus more candles and rose petals. It made your heart flutter, a blush warming your face. You turn to your boyfriend. He was smiling, holding out the box of strawberries.

“Oh, Maxwell. What is all this for?”

“For knowing what I always need. For being my partner, my employee, my best friend and my Mistress. I figured after you treated me this morning, it’s only fair I treat you as well.”

“You always treat me, my love.”

You reach out to him, inviting him into your embrace. He nuzzles a cheek on your palm. You open the box, plucking a nicely covered berry and pressing it to his lips. He opens his mouth, eyes fluttering and a soft moan leaving his lips as he bit down. You took the can of whipped cream from his hands, shaking it before pouring some in your mouth. You press your lips to his, and he licked into your mouth, trying to get every last hint of cream, hands gripping the fabric covering your hips. He was whining, pawing at the clothes you wore. It burnt you up to realize he was practically naked, only wearing lingerie while you were fully clothed.

You break the kiss, moving hair out of his eyes. “Kneel.”

He fell instantly, so hard and fast you were sure his knees would be bruised by morning. You observed him, taking another berry out and eating it. His eyes never left you. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you slowly eat the treat, pondering what to do with your boyfriend. You look at the toys laid out when one in particular caught your eye. An almost evil smirk crossed your lips. Finishing eating, you stand and begin putting away toys you won’t need.

Maxwell watched, patiently sitting on his haunches with his hands clasped. When you were finished, all that was left on the bed was a bottle of lube, a Hitachi vibrator and a strap-on. The strap-on was a pretty light blue, 5 inches long and 2 inches thick. One of Maxwell’s favorites. His body began to go pink with excitement, starting at his neck and continuing down to his belly. His cock was twitching in the panties, aching from the pressure of the ring.

“Come here, Max.”

He crawled as quickly as he could to you. You invited him up onto the bed, reaching to stroke his cock. He shuddered, shoulders slumping as he practically curled in on himself. You took pride in how well he was handling the touch.

“Is it okay if I use the strap on you tonight?”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” he begged.

“Alright, love. Get comfortable.”

Maxwell scooted to lay back against the pillows. You took one of the many pillows you had and placed it under his lower back to elevate his ass. He spread his legs for you, and goddamn, you could have started drooling from how good he looked. On his back, dressed in such a gorgeous set of lingerie, heels on his feet, legs spread, cock hard and poking through the panties. You wanted to take a picture. Or never wanted the moment to end.

You start kissing at his left ankle, following up his leg until you get to his cock. Then you switch to the other leg, at the ankle. He groans, hips thrusting up as you come back near his cock. Instead of paying attention to it, you keep kissing up his belly, sucking at his nipples and leaving a bruise on his collarbone. You reach his lips, hovering just far away enough he couldn’t kiss you. He knew better to try, anyway. Your tongue flicks out to lick his lips, moving over to kiss his cheek, up to his ear. You do this to the other side of his face as well. His eyes are scrunched up in frustration until you kiss him properly.

He’s Jell-O under your touch, limp and compliant. You began palming his cock, going back to suck his nipples when he whines.

“Mistress, please,” he cries.

“Please what, pet?”

“Please just fuck me already!”

You tut, pinching the nipple you were sucking on. “How impatient, dear. I’ve barely touched you.”

His face falls. “I just want to feel your cock in me.”

A scintillas of heat pooled in your pussy, catching you off guard. The words that came out of his mouth made your body tingle, your clit throbbing and heart pounding. But, you weren’t going to let him get to you that easily.

“Oh, Maxwell. You really thought all this nice decorating and flattering would get me to fuck you that quick, huh?”

You reach for the Hitachi, flicking it to the highest setting before placing it on his covered cock. He whimpered loudly, hips rising in the air to the meet the vibrations. He thrashed about until you moved it away, giving him a disappointing look.

“Can you stay still for me, Maxie? I want to see how good you can be for me.”

With a whine, he nodded. His bottom lip was caught tight between his front teeth, hair messy and a gorgeous blush on his cheeks. A wicked smile formed on your lips as you pressed the vibrator back onto him, relishing in the way he fought to keep himself still. You kept edging him until you knew he couldn’t take it anymore, until you could tell he was right at the edge of climax. Turning it off and putting it aside, you crawled up to kiss him. He turned to you with such a hunger, it knocked the air out of your lungs.

“You did so good for me, Maxie. I’m proud of you for not cumming.”

He beamed, looking so stress free and beautiful. You pet his hair as you press kisses along his face and neck, waiting for him to calm down.

“I’m ready, Mistress,” he said in a soft voice.

“Are you sure, pet?”

“Yes. Please fuck me.” The request dripped with arousal and to prove his point, he held his legs open wide.

You bite the inside of your cheek as you sit up and pull his panties to the side. You pour the lube over his hole, then your own fingers. You start slowly, one finger even though he was baring down for more.

“Please, please, Mistress! More!”

“Shh, shh,” you hush, putting a second in him. You work him up to four fingers and continue with those four for a few more moments. When you feel he is properly prepared, you slide your fingers out, which makes him groan at the empty feeling and wiggle his ass. You stand up, shedding your clothes as fast as you could. You didn’t care about teasing him with stripping slowly, you just wanted to make him squirm under you as soon as possible.

Once stripped down to only your underwear, you fiddle with the harness and strap-on, watching Maxwell’s reactions. He was watching you with bright lust in his eyes, the submission taking a backseat as he admired you. You admired back, waddling up the bed on your knees once you have the harness adjusted.

You soothe your hands down the back of his thighs, taking one hand to hold the strap-on. “Are you ready for me, pet?”

“Yes!” he cried, thrusting his hips down towards the plastic cock.

You laugh, pressing his left thigh to his tummy as you begin pushing into him. You push and push until your hips meet his. You both moan as you bottom out, just sitting there as you watch his face, searching for signs of discomfort or pain. Instead, he took a deep breath, met your gaze with a cheeky grin and pushed his hips down. You smirked, retaliating with a hard thrust back. His eyes rolled to the back of his head.

You let his legs fall to wrap around your waist as you place your hands by his head, leaning down to kiss him. You thrust as hard as you could manage, making him let out the most delicious noises against your mouth. He tried his damn hardest to kiss you back with an open mouth. Each thrust you gave made a moan or groan punch out of his lungs. It was the most beautiful song you’d ever head.

“Harder, please, harder!” he begged, hands going down to grip your ass.

You press your hips against him and make rough thrusting movements. It seemed to satisfy him as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, his mouth hanging open mid moan.

You couldn’t help but grin to yourself. You loved to see him in the throes of pleasure, and this had to be the most satisfying session of sex you’ve had yet. The strap-on was pressing on your clit in the best way, making you move to chase the pleasure you were feeling.

“Mistress, may I cum? Pl-ease!”

You watch Maxwell’s desperate face, pumping your hips harder. He had tears in his eyes from holding back, lips red and pump, face pink. You wanted him to always look like this.

“Yes. Cum for me, love.”

With a final thrust, Maxwell was cumming all over his stomach and panties. He was crushing your biceps in a tight grip, head thrown back as he let out the loudest shout of your name. You kept humping against him, chasing your own climax but the overwhelmed whimpers from Maxwell made you stop. You slowly pulled out of him, pressing kisses to his face. He seemed to be far gone at the moment, not registering your presence. You press one last kiss to his forehead before getting up.

Tossing the dildo in the sink for later clean up, you run a washcloth under warm water, then walk back to your boyfriend. He was still semi-out of it, eyes post-climax cloudy and glossy. You wiped his cum off of his stomach, folded the washcloth and then wiped the lube off him. He twitched, still so sensitive. You pull the panties off and unhook the bra. Taking his shoes, garter belt and stocking off, you sat the outfit in a pile next to your toybox. As you’re taking the harness off yourself, you notice out of the corner of your eyes that Maxwell was moving to watch you.

“Oh, hello! You’re back.”

He nodded, then made grabby hands in your direction. You slid up next to him, resting his head on your chest. He clung to you, snuggling his face into the base of your neck. He mumbled something into your skin.

“What was that?”

“I said, did you cum?”

“No. But that’s okay, you can make it up to me later.”

You hold him until he fully comes back to reality and gathers the strength to sit up. He holds a hand up your cheek, caressing your face. “Care to join me in the shower?”

“Of course, babe.”

The two of you head to the bathroom, hands intertwined. After you turned the shower on, Maxwell grabbed your face. He pressed his lips to yours softly, thumbs running over your cheeks. You smile into the kiss, fingers tangling in his hair.

“What was that for you?” you whisper as you part from his mouth.

“I can’t kiss my lovely girlfriend?” He rolled his eyes as you giggled. “Just a thank you. You took good care of me tonight.”

“That’s my job, Maxie.” You look him in the eyes, pushing hair aside. “I love you.”

A smile lit up his face. “I love you, too.”

And while you were distracted with the declaration of love, he opened the shower curtain and splashed water on you. You squeal, trying to glare at him. 

“Cold?” he laughs.

You roll your eyes, laughing yourself. “No, goofball. It’s perfect, lets go.”

You two shower, enjoying the intimacy of showering together. You could tell he loosened up from this morning and you silently patted yourself on the back. After the nice relaxing shower, you lay curled up in his arms. He was already snoring, damp hair sprawled on his pillow. You press one last kiss to his lips before snuggling up to sleep. 

Tagged: @pajamasecrets @heather-lynn @zeldasayer @talesfromtheguild @ben-is-a-hoe @kaetastic

[freefallingup13]

✋ and/or 😌 with Toni?

B O T H (A hand carding gently through their hair and/or Someone gently brushing their hair)

PS; Okay I'm writing this halfway through writing this drabble... it has now become a bigger scene than I intended it to be als;dkjf;aoeijfdk;f Oh well it's a full drabble now instead of just one scene

Jaren’s Puppy Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Toni looked around the tent that her new Master brought her into. It was cleaner than the other ones, and it seemed to be an actual tent. The fabric was white, and there was a lot of room to accommodate many beds.

"Cora," her Master called out, drawing her attention. "I need you to take care of this one real quick."

"What?" A blonde woman looked up from leaning over a mass of fur on one of the beds, furrowing her eyebrows. "Jaren, I am in the middle of somethi-"

"And I just got her, and I'm giving you an order," Master replied cheerfully. Toni felt the hostility beneath his tone, his tight smile, and lowered her head. It may not have been her he was mad at, but he could lash out at her at any second. She was there for it, after all.

She only looked up with her eyes as the leash was held out to the woman - Cora. "Do you want me to take care of your sick wolves or groom them?" Cora growled, leaning over the bed again.

"Order, Cora."

Groaning in frustration, Cora dropped her instruments, quickly wrapping whatever wound she had been working on. Toni heard her murmur soft words to the wolf on the bed, reassuring them she would be back soon. Regardless of her gentleness, Toni couldn't help but flinch as Cora snatched the leash from her Master.

"Ten minutes. Maximum." Cora glared at Jaren as he laughed in response. Shaking her head, she turned to Toni.

She forced herself to relax as she saw how tense the girl was. Her hands were behind her back, and her ears were lowered. Her gaze was turned down and away, trying not to anger Cora.

Cora reached her hand out to the girl. "My name is Cora," she said quietly. "I'm the lead doctor, here. Do you have a name?"

The girl looked up at her, then at her hand. She reached out slowly, almost painfully so, to shake Cora's hand. "Uhm - M-Master calls me Puppy," she said sheepishly, glancing at Jaren before looking back to her.

"Your name, kid." She sure did look like a sheep. With her ears pinned down so low, and her tail curled close, she-

White ears. White tail.

Cora's eyes widened as she reached out, touching the girl's ear. The girl yelped at the contact, but Cora was already brushing her fur with her fingers. She pulled her hand back, checking for powder, but there was no such thing. She hadn't felt anything on the girl's head, either...

Her eyes flicked to Jaren. "... How much did you pay for her?" she asked lowly. "How much?"

Jaren rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "Didn't pay a single coin, actually," he scoffed. "She was a gift."

"You stole her."

"She was a gift."

Toni looked between them as they glared at each other, trying to resist the urge to shrink away. Master wouldn't like that - Masters didn't like that, did they? She thought so, at least.

Finally, Cora shook her head, turning and putting a hand on Toni's shoulder. She guided her to one of the beds, patting the edge of it. "Up," she muttered.

As Toni sat on the edge of the bed, Jaren took his leave, calling over his shoulder. "I want her looking pretty when I'm back!"

"I'll show you pretty, asshole!" Cora shouted back, glaring daggers at his head until he disappeared. Letting out a low growl, she turned back to her new patient.

The girl was looking at her with wide eyes, one of her ears perked up curiously. "You can yell at Master?" she asked quietly, almost whispering.

Cora sighed. "Sure," she replied, picking the girl's wrist up to check her pulse. "As long as he lets me."

"But nobody can yell at Masters," the girl whispered, tilting her head. "Isn't that bad?"

She ignored the girl as she recorded the pulse, beginning to check her reflexes and looking for scars. "Who trained you?" she asked boredly. Whatever had led to Jaren getting this 'gift' clearly took some planning.

"No one." The answer made Cora pause. "... My family," the girl admitted, rubbing her arm guiltily and looking away. "Uhm - m-mostly my aunt."

Cora couldn't help but wrinkle her nose. "Your parents put you into this life?"

With a slight gasp, the girl shook her head roughly. She didn't talk for a few minutes after that, allowing Cora to check her teeth and breathing.

"... Toni," she said as Cora moved her to sit on the side of the bed rather than the end.

"What?"

"My name is Toni." The girl glanced nervously at her, hunched over with pleading eyes as if looking for approval.

After a few moments, Cora nodded, picking up the hairbrush she'd set aside. "It's nice to meet you."

"... Nice to meet you, too," Toni replied meekly. She tensed when she felt the bristles of the brush poking at her back, but the action repeated over and over, gently. It felt... nice.

Her body relaxed as Cora continued to brush her hair, gently working upwards to work out the knots from the bottom up. "Whoever did your hair before made it look nice, but they were an idiot," Cora muttered as she worked through a particularly annoying knot, hidden under the rest of her thick hair. "They didn't get it all."

"'s okay," Toni mumbled, looking up a bit, but remembering that Cora was behind her and she probably shouldn't disturb her hair while it was being fixed. Lowering her chin again, she decided to shrug instead. "It was the first time they brushed it."

"They let an amateur groomer do this?" Cora snorted. "I wouldn't be surprised.

'No,' Toni thought with a flick of her ear. 'It's just been a long time since it was brushed.' But she had said enough to Cora - this girl was clearly her superior. She was a vampire, and she had to respect vampires. That meant no talking back.

By the time her Master returned, Toni had been poked, prodded, brushed, and had her hair tied with a pretty ribbon as it was laid over her shoulder. She pressed her lips together, feeling her face heat up as her Master whistled. "Ten minutes and all of this?" Jaren asked, leaning down to look at Toni curiously. "You work quick."

"Full bill of health, no sign of disease, only scar I can find is the one keeping her ear down," Cora said, setting aside her tools and beginning to walk back to the other wolf from before.

Jaren raised an eyebrow, pointing at Toni's left ear. "You mean the left one?" he asked. "I thought she just keeps it down."

"It's scarred," she assured him as she began to unwrap bandages from the wolf's arm. "Whatever it was, it sliced a few muscles in her ear. She can't lift it up anymore. Nothing I can do about it."

She heard him hum, and his jacket shifted as he lifted his arm. "Oh, well," he muttered as Toni made a small sound. "It's rather cute, isn't it?"

Cora glanced over her shoulder. Jaren's hand was curled, and he was running his fingers through her hair by his knuckles. The sound that Toni had made was apparently in... bliss. She hoped that the way the girl whined at the second pass, leaning into Jaren's hand, that the girl's reaction was genuine comfort.

"Come, Puppy," Jaren said as he backed away, tugging on her leash. She leaned forward, her eyes slowly drifting back open. "Now, are you afraid of heights?"

"... Mm-m - No, Master," Toni quickly corrected herself, looking dreamily up at Jaren. Cora hated that look - something wasn't right about that girl being in this place. She was quiet, and naive, and... and she looked at Jaren like he was her whole world, no doubt having only known him for a few hours.

Cora turned away, going back to patching up the other wolf. Knowing Jaren, he would force that girl to make him her whole world. Cora didn't want any part of it. She would do her best to not care about it.

Still, though, her heart fell when she started wondering what wounds the girl would come in with first.

[aelin-queen-of-terrasen]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 | 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤

Rowaelin modern AU ▶ Masterlist

note: hi, this is my first multi chaptered fic so constructive criticism is always welcome. quick shout-out to @pansexualharrypotternerd for the invaluable help! Love you! 💖

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The only thing redeemable about a high school with a bunch of brats who had sticks shoved up their asses was recess. Half a day had passed and Aelin was already swarmed with homework, previous assignments still pending and she needed to prepare for the upcoming Maths test by the end of the week. Recess offered a much needed break.

It would go better if Lorcan stopped being such a hard ass though. "Please?" Aelin whined. "I will fail Math if you don't help me."

The bastard snorted. "You will fail Math either way because you refuse to listen to me when I teach." Lorcan was not wrong but Aelin shot him a glare anyway, picking at the miserable stuff they dared call food in this cafeteria. With the amount of fee the school charged, you would think they would serve quality food here but nope. It tasted worse than it looked which was saying something.

The two of them were the only ones at their usual table today. Fenrys had taken a leave because of catching the flu, Connall was sitting with his teammates today and Aedion and Lysandra were a no show, likely making out in some vacant classroom.

Lorcan had finished his lunch already and was waiting for her. Aelin chewed slowly, more like swallowed (the food was disgusting but she was hungry), eyes flitting from one table to another until they landed on a hooded figure sitting alone by the corner, the scowl on his face visible from a distance.

Rowan Whitethorn.

Lorcan followed her gaze to the corner, then said, "Whatever you are thinking, Ace, drop it. He is trouble."

He certainly looked like trouble with wicked looking tattoos covering half his face and his right ear pierced. The hood was pulled over his face, eyes trained on the empty tray of food. She had never seen him have lunch with someone else. Hell, she had never seen him talk with someone else. Most of the school was convinced Rowan communicated in grunts and nods, not words and that he was either a werewolf, a gang leader or included in some very shady business.

Aelin lifted her shoulders in a shrug, then changed the topic. She did not need Lorcan to go all overprotective brother on her. "You are sure you can't help me?"

"And have to spend extra time with you? Gods, no!" He made a dramatic show of throwing his hands up in the air.

Aelin smacked his shoulder, grateful that Fenrys was not here to join in on the teasing today. She pouted, rising from her seat and apparently, done eating. "I hate you, Salvaterre."

He rolled his eyes, walking beside her with his own tray towards the trash bin. "You love me, admit it."

Aelin scoffed, even though she did love him, rude bastard and all. "Not a chance," she said.

She wasn't sure what happened next or how but she slipped on some wrapper, there was a loud scream (likely her own), strong arms stabling her—probably Lorcan—and her tray of half finished food went flying through the air, the contents spilling on someone's clothes and hair.

Aelin froze when she realised who she had spilled her food on. Rowan had a blank look on his face, lips pressed into a thin line. With the notorious reputation he had, Aelin could not have chosen a worse person to pick a fight with. It took her all of one moment to summon that insufferable swagger that drove others mad, chin lifted and shoulders squared back.

She did not need anyone to know how nervous she was. "I am sorry," she said.

"I am sure you are," he drawled, the deep voice heavily accented. The scowl on his face deepened when she looked again, letting her know she had made a remarkable first impression and quite possibly pissed off the one guy she should not have fucked with.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Lorcan step beside her. He said, "She said sorry already, it was an accident."

"And I said I am sure she is," he stressed.

If the situation were different and her heart wasn't pounding so hard inside her chest, Aelin would have taken a moment to appreciate the lovely voice, the rich accents or the muscular build. Being around fitness freaks like Aedion and Lorcan had her used to towering male hunks but god, it suited him. He was a real package.

Too bad manners weren't included in it because he walked away after sending her a scornful glare.

"What an ass," Lorcan grumbled. "Let's leave before you manage to set off another hulking brute." He was still cackling when they parted ways for their next class.

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This was ridiculous. English had always been Aelin's favourite class but now she was trying to find reasons to avoid it because she did not want to run into Rowan. He didn't scare her, of course, but she did not feel like subjecting herself to his insults and temper after the day she had had. She tried to convince herself that they had been in the same class for years now. If he had never bothered anyone before, he wouldn't start now but as luck would have it, she reached the classroom five minutes late to find two unoccupied seats - one beside Rowan and the other beside her ex-boyfriend Chaol who was trying his best to look like he didn't know she was staring at him.

With a sigh, Aelin made her way to the back, sitting down beside Rowan. She turned to him. "I am sorry, you know?"

He had ditched the stained hoodie in favour of a white uniform shirt that outlined his muscles in a flattering way. They were only supposed to wear uniforms on a special occasion, founders day or on inspection days but his shirt was especially tight, sticking to the sculpted chest beneath the fabric.

"If I wanted to hear excuses, I'd have asked." Gods, why were all hot guys assholes?

She frowned. "It was an accident!"

"You stumbled on thin air, managed to right yourself but spilled your food on me and ruined my shirt," he retorted.

Her temper snapped at it's leash. Aelin had to grit her teeth to keep herself from barking out an insult. Why would she ruin his clothes on purpose? Before she could ask as much, Gavriel called the attention of the class towards the front. Her Uncle made a point to look at her in warning as if he had knew she had been fighting someone she shouldn't be fighting minutes ago.

She sneaked a glance at Rowan again, whorls of black ink peeking out from beneath the collar of the white shirt. She would be angry too if someone embarrassed her in front of everyone.

In good spirit, she offered, "Why don't I make it up to you by buying coffee?"

He ignored her.

Aelin didn't know if she was being brave or stupid as she poked him. "I could wash your hoodie or buy you a new one! Please, Rowan?"

He ignored her again, eyes trained on the blackboard. She was about to poke him again when Gavriel called from the front, "Miss Galathynius, will you please pay attention instead of chatting Whitethorn up?"

Some of the students snickered when Aelin rolled her eyes, cheeks flushing with colour. Just like him to draw all attention towards her and embarass her in front of her classmates. In his defense, she did claim her revenge every time by refusing to address him as anything other than 'Uncle Kitty-Cat.' She had a sneaking suspicion he liked it.

Minutes later, Gavriel announced, "You will all be partnering up for the next project. It determines twenty five percent of your grade so work hard."

"Are we allowed to choose partners?" Kaltain asked from the front.

Her Uncle answered, "Partner up with the person sitting beside you."

There were a few audible groans and excited whispers before class was dismissed. She would be partnered up with the guy who was intent on ignoring her. She was about to offer to do the whole project by herself (because that was a much better option than working with Rowan when he hated her guts) when Rowan rose from his seat with lightning fast speed and made his way towards the teacher's desk.

She made it in time to hear his request: "I would like to work alone on the project, sir. I won't want to drag Miss Galathynius' grade down with mine." His tone held enough bite that Aelin knew he knew she was listening in.

Gavriel scoffed. "Non sense! Aelin will be more than happy to assist you, Rowan."

She smiled tightly in confirmation before Gavriel left, the class almost vacant now. Students were filtering out of the door but Rowan stood with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

"I have cheer practice next but we should meet up after that," Aelin said. "We can go to the diner nearby?"

Rowan only grunted in confirmation, sent her one last scathing look and turned on his heel, walking out of the door with his usual annoyed expression etched onto his face. Aelin sighed. If Rowan refused to even utter a word, it was going to be a real treat working together on this project, her only consolation being that she hadn't been paired with Chaol. Though maybe that would have been a better option.

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Tags :

@thesirenwashere // @judexcardanxgreenbriar //@fangirltrash74 // @the-dark-swan // @julemmaes // @rowaelinforeverworld // @mymultiversee // @queen-of-glass // @strangely-constructed-soul // @mijaldraws // @http-itsrebecca // @aesthetics-11 // @lord-douglas-the-third // @flowersinvegas // @towhateverend17 // @aelinchocolatelover

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged.

[blog-sliverofjade]

Of Doms & Subs 19: The End is Just the Beginning

Pairing: Angus Hopper x OFC

Summary:  What’s a submissive female to do when she fights her nature and goes on the run as a Lone wolf to avoid being assimilated into a pack?

Word count: 2213

Of Doms & Subs Master List

Ellie anticipated a panic attack.  It had been some time since she’d been underneath a man, and she expected to feel trapped as she had so often with Will.  Maybe it was because there wasn’t much difference in their sizes but was more likely due to the fact that he was the polar opposite of Will.  Unlike her ex-husband, he’d shown his teeth from the very beginning.  Was that only four days ago?  Her wolf didn’t care; she’d found their mate.  She let herself settle into that easy bliss and release her human hang-ups, if only for a little while.

Mickayla had warned her that her sex drive would crank up to 11, but no warning in the world could have prepared her for this.  A few minutes of a semi-naked make out session and her body felt wound to the breaking point.  Heat washed over her like waves lapping at a shore.  Excitement, wonder, and love burst inside her, deliciously sharpened by a hint of fear.  The kind of adrenaline charged fear she felt when free climbing, knowing that no anchor kept her from falling.  Only she wanted to dive off the precipice she teetered on and fly.

She disentangled her leg from his to cradle him between her thighs.  Even through their underwear and his pants, he undoubtedly felt how damp her panties were.  Though she was too far gone to feel embarrassed.  A button on his shirt scraped against a nipple and her breath caught.  Angus released her mouth and she nearly whined at the loss.  The usual sternness dominating his features had melted away and he appeared vulnerable for the first time, soft even.  His thumb brushed over her swollen bottom lip.  She caught his wrist to press a kiss to his palm, which made him smile.

Cupping the side of her neck, Angus turned his attention to her breasts, heaving as she panted.  The white mounds moulded easily to his hand even as they overfilled it; he lowered his head to a pert nipple that was practically sitting up and begging for attention.  She jerked towards him as if a jolt of electricity shot through her.  He licked and laved the rosy bud to a stiff peak and then moved to the next one.

When she settled again, he slipped a hand between her legs and brushed her clit.  Her back bowed at the light touch.  When did she become so sensitive?  Was it the werewolf thing?  Or was it because it’d been so long?  He dipped a finger into her slick petals.  Oh God, she was dripping.  Her hips tried to follow him on the withdrawal.  The need painted across her face resembled a grimace of pain.  He stilled and pulled back to look at her.

“Are you all right, mo cridhe?”  The hand on her neck moved to stroke her hair.

“Yes!” cried Ellie, squirming around his finger.

“Are you certain?  We can stop.”  Angus began to withdraw, but she gripped his wrist with supernatural strength, keeping him within her walls.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” she panted.

“Oh?  What am I doing?”  The hunger on his face was at complete odds with his innocent tone.

“You’re trying to give me an out,” she scowled.

“Well then, while we’re on the subject,” his dark eyes were lit with his sly humour that she was learning how to read, “Do you want this?  Because I swear to God I’ll not stop until your legs are quivering and the neighbours are very well aware of my name, to say nothing of the pack.”  She bit her lip, torn between arousal and mortification.  His finger shifted ever so slightly and either she’d closed her eyes or her vision had short-circuited due to the pleasure from the minute movement.

“If you stop, I will bite you,” she hissed, glaring up at him.

“That’s hardly a deterrent.”  The gleam in his bottomless eyes filled her mind’s eye with flashes of fangs and entwined bodies that had her tossing her head back, exposing her throat.  He nipped at the velvety flesh and she thrashed under the overwhelming pleasure that washed through her, whining softly.  He smiled into her pulse point and added another digit, crooking them and beginning to pump in and out.  The knot low in her belly wound tighter and tighter.  She gasped when he hit one spot in particular.

“Ah, there we are,” he whispered in a voice like dark chocolate and velvet.  Rocking on his hand, she gripped one of his shoulders like it was a lifeline, nails digging into his skin through the shirt.

Her silken walls fluttered around his fingers and her mewls grew louder.  He and his wolf were one in their smugness.  Her reactions made him wonder if her ex had ever seen to her satisfaction.  The thought that he would be the one to give her such pleasure had him grinning ferally.

“Tha gaol agam ort, m'eudail.”  Long ago, he’d taught himself to use his voice like a tool: he could crack it like a whip or light fires in people’s hearts.  Or he could intimately caress someone.  She’d seemed particularly affected by it, especially when she first submitted to him.  The carpet still smelled like her.  “Cum for me, a leanbh.”

There was no need to draw upon his dominance, even if he was willing to use it in bedroom games.  He curved his fingers again and she bowed off the bed with a scream that only died out when she ran out of breath, but her orgasm continued, drawn out by his deft hand.  Blunt fingernails dug into his thigh.  Though they would heal in moments, he purred internally at the possessiveness of it.  In turn, he bit the juncture of her neck and shoulder, almost breaking the skin, but not quite.  He laved at the small hurt as she came down, his strokes slowing.

Sitting up, Angus drank in her ample curves, her arms flung around her head, and unbuttoned his shirt.  She drew one leg up so she could turn and ogled him in kind from a better angle.  He stood and reached for his belt; white teeth nibbled a slick, pink lip.  The way she watched him, as if in need, was a seduction unto itself.  A faint clink of the pants falling to the floor and he was nude before her.

Werewolves quickly learned to shed any discomfort they had with nudity, but pink still spread across Ellie’s face, slackened in awe.  He smiled with certain amount of male satisfaction in knowing that she was with him because she wanted to be, and not because she wanted to jump the hierarchy.  Knowing that she worried about the pack and for him, even challenging his arguments, filled him with a pride and admiration.

“Hmm, I’m not terribly familiar with the mating habits of wolves.”  Her voice was husky from screaming and hunger.  “But how long are we supposed to stare at each other?”

“You’re going to have to learn to watch that mouth,” he rumbled and slunk across the bed with eyes that glowed wolf.

“Oh?”  The shape of said mouth as she formed the sound made him wonder if she would manage such arch coyness if that same mouth was wrapped around his cock.  In reply, he sank his teeth into her bottom lip, lapping at the crimson beads that welled up.

“You bit me.”  If she was trying for indignation, her tone was far too breathy to be effective.

“You threatened to bite me first.”  His shrug was met with bright laughter.  She spread her thighs in welcome and he settled into the cradle of her hips, which pressed up against him when his length fell against her crease, brushing her clit.  Panting, she threw her head back with a low moan.

Looking into her caramel apple coloured eyes when she could focus again, he pressed into her wet heat.  Impatient, she wrapped her legs around his hips and squeezed him deeper into her channel.  He resisted and chuckled at her frustrated pout.

“This is our first time together,” he smiled, propping himself up on one elbow and stroking her cheek with the backs of his fingers.  “There’ll be plenty of time for animalism in the second round.”

“S-second round?” she blinked.

“Supernatural stamina means a refractory period of minutes.”  He took advantage of her open mouth to caress her tongue with his, pushing deeper into her until he was fully sheathed.  She snaked her arms around his neck and writhed under him, trying to coax him into moving faster.

Ellie rolled her hips, savouring the perfect fit as if they were made for each other, returning his kiss with interest only to pull away with a gasp as he moved again.  He rocked into her aching core, kneaded the meat of a thigh curled around him, and the way he licked his lips was downright indecent.

Their slow, smooth rhythm soon had her squirming with bliss; Angus watched with a face slack in awe and lust, an expression which she no doubt mirrored.  Yet he maintained a firm grip on his self-control and she wanted to snap the leash.  Clenching around him as tightly as she could, she dug her feet into his marbled ass for leverage to drive herself up his shaft.  He snarled at her impatience.  Once, she would have shrank from the aggression; instead, she did it again and arched her head back to flaunt the line of her throat.  The way he’d reacted whenever her neck was vulnerable hadn’t gone unnoticed.

With a roar, he sank his teeth into her sensitive flesh and slammed into her, the bed thumped into the wall in time with the snap of his hips.  The knot in her lower belly snapped and she came with a scream, gouging furrows in his corded back.  He didn’t let up, pounding into her quivering pussy, forcing her to climax again and again until it all blended into one.  Only after she was a trembling wreck did he delved as deeply as he could, pulsing as he filled her to overflowing, their combined fluids painting her folds.

They lay there for awhile to catch their breath, still connected, foreheads pressed together.  She shook occasionally, her inner walls fluttering around him.

“I think I love you,” whispered Ellie.

“You’re still capable of thought?  Then I haven’t done my job properly,” he smirked.  She laughed throatily; he kissed the bite mark, which was already fading.  “If you change your mind and want to leave, I’m not sure I’m strong enough to watch you walk away.”

It wasn’t a flowery speech, or a grand declaration of his affection.  He all but admitted weakness.  To her.  A wolf who’d been told since her Making that she would never have any power in their world.  And an Alpha had placed himself in her hands.  That knowledge stole her breath, her thought, and most of all, her heart.

The next day, Angus mobilized Ian, Jim, Mickayla, and Shane to pack up her little apartment.  They picked up her brother, Peter, from Vancouver (Washington, not British Columbia) to help.  He’d volunteered even after she’d confessed that she turned furry every full moon.

“She’s been through hell.”  Peter’s growl was worthy of a werewolf, unaware that she overheard through the open window as she packed.  Apparently, not all of their attributes were public knowledge otherwise he would have lowered his voice.  “If you hurt her, I will pump you full of silver.”

Ellie peered down into the packing lot where they were supposed to be loading the SUV.  Her brother loomed over Angus, using his larger size in a blatant attempt at intimidation.  Angus nodded solemnly, and she had to stifle a laugh.  Her Alpha could eat him for breakfast.  Literally.

Later, she thanked him profusely for not murdering her brother for his temerity.  He said something about “not disciplining foolhardy pups” for trying to protect their family, but he accepted her gratitude with fervour.

Her meager belongings looked shabby in Angus’s- their- condo, even with her new, albeit small, wardrobe.  Yet he didn’t bat an eye at her tablet with the cracked corner, or her ancient   laptop, instead placing them next to his own shiny devices to charge.  Nor did he hesitate to place her dog-eared novels next to his first editions.  He returned her keys and her lime green jalopy received a place of honour next to his Tesla.

The following days passed in a whirlwind and before she knew it she was standing in a conference room of sorts in the pack’s warehouse.  Framed by a skylight, the luminous face of the full moon watched from above while she ritually consumed his flesh and was bound to the pack.

While they prepared to shift, several members handed cash over to Mickayla.  Ellie arched a brow in her direction.

“They thought you’d mate our fearless leader tonight,” she shrugged and forked over a portion of the winnings, which disappeared into a back pocket.

“There’s no need to rush.”  Ellie’s smile lit up her face as Angus came up from behind and wrapped his arms around her.  “We have forever ahead of us.”

Tha gaol agam ort, m'eudail - I love you

[sabraeal]

Happiness Is Just Around the Corner

The Wide Florida Bay | Previous

Written for @bubblesthemonsterartist for her birthday! This was...not the fic I thought I’d be writing, but this is where this subplot needed to start >:3c

There is an improbable amount of fireworks on the lawn.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure none of it’s legal,” Kiki assures him, taking a long drag of her Sam’s Summer. “Shiira took his ducklings up to New Hampshire yesterday, and they came back with two coolers worth of...something.”

Zen coughs on the dregs of his Magic Hat. “What? Should we even--?”

Kiki’s flat stare is more effective than a hand over his mouth. “You really think we’ll get in trouble.”

His gut instinct is yes, because there’s not a day in his life where his brother hasn’t caught him with his pants down just to prove a point. It would be just like him to send a cruiser around so that he could experience the heart-stopping terror of being on the other side of a two-way mirror. Sure, Haruka would be down at the station before he could even ask for a phone call, and all of this would slide off his permanent record like water off a duck’s back, but still-- trouble.

But he doesn’t say that. He takes a deep breath, thinks. It’s quiet here on campus. They’re rowdy, sure, but it’s just the frat there, not some rager with Omega Delta Nu. The campus cops are probably bored out of their skulls, but they’re not going to nail the honor’s frat for a light show.

“No,” he admits, begrudgingly. “Not unless they light something on fire.”

Her mouth twitches, following the spark in her eyes. “Well, there’s a non-zero chance of that.”

Ugh, of course Kiki would be excited by the prospect. “Well, as long as we don’t get--” Obi crosses the lawn, aviators looming over a wide smile, and hovers just at Shiira’s shoulder, perusing the goods. “UH.”

“Fuck.” Kiki hops off the porch, straight down into the landscaping. “I’ll handle this.”

Zen settles back against the porch swing and sighs, taking another swig of Magic Hat. “Yeah, please do.”

Kiki’s already halfway across the lawn by the time he’s finished talking, so quick that when Obi picks up a particularly patriotic package of pyrotechnics, she’s there to snatch it out of his hands. Even from here, Zen can see the jut of his pout, hear the faint whine of Ms Kiki on the air.

Mitsuhide’s lighting up the grill, surrounded by a crowd convinced cooking works by consensus. He takes a handkerchief out of his back pocket-- stars and stripes, stuffed there early this morning as Obi solemnly announced, you are America’s hat today, big guy-- and wipes the sweat beading on his forehead. Zen can’t tell whether it’s from the heat or from the effort needed to withstand six guys offering advice on proper grilling technique.

A cool breeze tumbles through the porch, carrying the muted voices of a dozen conversations. Zen closes his eyes, letting the smell of smoke and the heat of the day wash over him, the swing rocking gently on its chains.

It’s nice, having all this. People he can anticipate. People he can depend on. Friends. The real kind, not just kids whose parents went to the same prep school as his.

This isn’t where he’s supposed to be.

A year ago that would have sent him scrambling-- last minute tickets and crumpled up itineraries paired with the crushing guilt of never being enough. But now--

Now he knows this is where he wants to be. And there’s only one person to thank for that.

“Hey.” His eyes slit open, and there she is, brilliant smile and bright hair, peeping around the post. “Enjoying yourself?”

Zen drops his legs from the rail to make room. “I am now.”

Shirayuki’s mouth slants, playfully wry, and his heart strains against his sternum like a dog testing its leash. “It looked like you were before too.”

“Well, sure.” He wishes he had Obi’s obnoxious aviators right now, if only so she couldn’t see the eager way he watches her as she comes up, tucking herself neatly onto the opposite end of the swing. “But even more now that you’re around.”

Freckles disappear behind a bloom of pink, settling in on either cheek.  “Ah, w-well,” she stammers, staring at her bare toes. “It’s good to know you don’t regret staying here.”

“Instead of being with my family?” He laughs, incredulous, draping his arm over the back of the swing. His fingers just barely brush the freckles on her shoulder. “More like I’m thankful for the excuse.”

Her smile dims. “Oh, um, right. You and Izana...”

She hesitates. There’s a wealth of ways she could end that thought, but instead she says, “It must be nice. I mean, the place your family has, not...”

The fraught relationship you have with your brother. She doesn’t have to say it for him to know exactly what she means.

“It’s all right, I guess,” he allows, wishing she’d sit closer, that she’d give him a good reason to put his arm around her for real, and not just let him awkwardly hang here. “I mean, it’s just a house. The beach is nice though. Private, of course.”

That doesn’t stop his mother from inviting the paparazzi if she thinks it will make a good photo op. Last year he’d made the cover of the Inquirer, face scrunched and unattractive as Izana has splashed sea water in his face, with the words Final Frolic for World’s Most Eligible Bachelor? There had been a two-page spread inside, dedicated entirely to the relationship rumors Izana had accrued since Valentine’s Day.

Well, he didn’t have to worry about that this year. No paparazzo was going to stake out a college frat to take pictures of an illegal fireworks show. Now Haki could deal with having her picture slapped across the tabloids because mother thought candid shots made for better family photos.

“Ah, right...” Her laugh stutters out, awkward and endearing. “That sounds...good?”

Shirayuki’s still next to him, the heat from her skin humid against his fingertips, but she’s never felt so far. He grunts, frustrated, shifting closer.

“There’s an old carousel on the island too,” he offers, haltingly. He’s not sure why the impulse takes him to tell her; why he thinks she, specifically, might like it, save that when he looks at her it’s the same as when he saw those hand-carved horses the first time, well-loved and shining beneath antique lights.

“Oh!” She blinks. “My grandparents took me to one of those, once! Back when we visited...”

Her mouth works silently for a moment before pulling tight, the bittersweet twist making her smile more grimace than grin.

“Well, you’d love this one,” he assures her, sweat pricking at his palms. “It’s the oldest in the US. But it’s still really nice! I’ll take you next--”

His words slam to a stop, running headlong into the barrier of his teeth. She’s staring at him now, eyes wide and mouth parted, and-- and what can he say? I’ll take you next year, when my brother suddenly approves of you.

Yeah, he knows better than to hold his breath for that.

“I’m glad, anyway.” She folds her legs up on the swing, one arm hooked around her knees, and tilts her head back. “It’s nice for all of us to be here, together.”

Her eyes are closed, face serene in the evening light, like she could just sit here forever, breathing into the twilight. His heart flutters just looking at her, at the way she relaxes next to him, content with the slow rock he eases them into. No one can just be the way Shirayuki can.

“It is,” he agrees softly, because anything but a whisper might break this moment, might let the rest of the world in. “It’s going to be weird when you...”

He tries to stop himself, but her eyes fly open before he can. Of course, the one moment he’s gotten her to himself, and he’s gone and ruined it by bringing that up.

“I just mean...” He laughs, tipping his head back on scroll of wood behind his head. “It’s going to be strange when you and Obi are gone next year.”

A month from now, really. It looms over him, a ticking clock that chimes every evening, telling him he’s wasted another day if it wasn’t with her.

“Oh!” Her head snaps upright, cheeks flushed. “I-- I guess. I didn’t really think...” She bites her lip; he wants to kiss it. “Mitsuhide won’t be here either!”

He blinks. It’s true, but he’s never actually thought about that. Mitsuhide has always been in the house, it seems, never the president but a calming influence just to the side of him, and now--

Well, it’ll just be him and Kiki next year. And the rest of the frat, of course, plus all the new pledges.

Still, the future is distinctly more lonely than he’d like.

“He’ll be close, though,” he says, if only to hear the words out loud. “Harvard is a bit of a drive from here, but now that him and Kiki are, you know...”

Banging. That’s what he means to say at least, what he would say if he didn’t, last minute, remember who he was talking to. The last thing he needs is to get a scolding about taking feelings seriously and supporting their friends. Especially when he’d rather be talking about another relationship entirely.

“...Together,” he settles on, and she hums, approving.

“I’m glad that happened.” She rests her chin on her knees, surveying the lawn. Kiki’s abandoned the fireworks committee, instead shooing away the flock of fraters that have congregated around the grill. “They’re good for each other.”

“Made for each other,” he agrees, tickling her shoulder with his thumb. She squirms, a giggle bubbling out from her lips. “Just like...”

Us. He wants to say it, so bad it’s almost an ache, but-- it’s not fair. Not when they’re not really anything, when they can’t be anything, because--

I don’t know if being with me like…like that will be…good for you. I don’t think either of us are ready for that sort of…of attention.

-- Because everything about his life makes things complicated.

“I’m...happy for them,” he says, because he is, because there’s no two people in the world who deserve every bit of goodness they can wring from life more than they do. Even if that leaves him on the outside, again.

“Me too.” Shirayuki smiles, soft and fond, and it’s impossible to believe it’s barely been ten months since he met her, that she isn’t someone he’s known his whole life, not when she just slips seamlessly into every part.

Her hand reaches out, taking his, cool in the evening breeze. “I’ll miss you too.”

His breath catches in his chest, painful. Maybe she feels so familiar because he’s been waiting for her his whole life, too.

“I-I mean, all of you, of course,” she stammers, pink flooding her cheeks, and oh, he wishes he could just lean over now and kiss her, like he was some normal boy with a normal crush and normal expectations of privacy. “I’m excited to go, but...it won’t be the same without everyone.”

Good. He smothers a grin. This whole trip is a great opportunity for her, he knows that-- how could he not, when Izana keeps reminding him about the connections she’ll make-- but--

Two years seems excessive. After a year, she’ll realize that too. And then she can come back for senior year, live in the frat, graduate, spend the summer with him in the Vineyard, and--

“We should do something together,” she says, fingers knotted around his, shoulders rounded shyly.

“Yes!” he blurts out, squeezing way too hard. “Definitely”

“All of us!”

“Ah...” That wasn’t what he thought she was going for. “I mean...”

“One last big adventure.” Her lips spread giddily. “Just the five of us. For now, of course,” she adds, “we’ll be coming back.”

“Oh, ah...” He blinks, staring down at where her hands are tangled with his. She has little over a month left here, and what he really wants is to be doing this, this whole...being together thing, but--

But it’s not like this is going anywhere either. Two years is a long time, but they’ll be sitting here just like this when she gets back. Well-- with more kissing, he hopes.

He can wait. He’s not the only one who will miss her. “Yeah, that sounds...nice.”

His eyes flick up, catching her just as she sinks teeth into the soft pillow of her lip, leaving a dent that begs to be soothed. Zen swallows, hard.

Well, a friendly getaway will have its opportunities for some, ah, private time too. He just has to create them.

“I was thinking,” he starts, lifting a hand to ruffle his hair, trying to be, you know, casual. “What if we--?”

“Hey.” Kiki perches herself across from them with a deftness that says she’s been hanging out with Obi too much. “Burgers are off the grill.”

“Great,” Zen grits out with a glare. “We’ll be down in a minute.”

Kiki hums, brow raising dubiously. “What are you two up to out here?”

“Nothing.” He glowers at her, wishing she would just take a hint. “Just talking.”

“Ah.” Her mouth twitches. “I see.”

“We were just talking about taking a trip!” Shirayuki blurts out excitedly, red-faced and glowing. “All of us! One last adventure before me and Obi go to Lyrias.”

Kiki blinks at that, cocking her head. “What were you thinking?”

“Oh, um, I don’t know.” A giggle burst nervously from her as she smooths the hem of her shorts over her thighs. “We hadn’t really gotten that far.”

All right, it’s time to drag this conversation back on track. Zen clears his throat. “Kiki, doesn’t your dad have that house in the Berkshires? We could go for a weekend, maybe take in the--”

“Why? We’re already in western Mass. What will a forty minute drive get us?” She wrinkles her nose. “It isn’t even peak foliage season.”

Privacy, he wants to say, but he knows how poorly that idea would fly with her. For someone who always seems to find time to be alone with her boytoy, Kiki’s awfully invested in seeing that he never has any with his girl...thing.

“Hm, I wasn’t really think a trip-trip either,” Shirayuki admits, crushing his dreams of a nice afternoon alone in a hammock, just the two of them and their bathing suits. “But something like an, ah...activity. Like an amusement park.” She perks. “Do you have something like that out here?”

“Six Flags!” he blurts out before he can even consider what he’s saying. “It’s only a half hour away, and the coasters are supposed to be some of the best. I mean, if you, ah, like that sort of thing.”

Which he doesn’t, but there’s really no need to mention that. Not when she lights up like she does, hands clapping together over her heart.

“That sounds perfect! I’ve never been to one of those.” She leans in, conspiratorial. “Opa always got vertigo on the Turkish Twist.”

He may not know what that thing is, but it sounds gut-wrenching enough to keep in head in the trash for a good ten minutes. Zen plasters a smile on his face, steadfastly ignoring the arch look Kiki gives him-- god, that’s the last thing he needs, Kiki deciding it would be funny to tell the story of when they rode the Tower of Terror in middle school-- and says, “I’ll go on any ride you want.”

Kiki makes an unearthly noise, somewhere between a cough and a choke, and he braces for it, for the you know, Zen can tell you the location of every trashcan in Hollywood Studios--

“When were you thinking?” she says instead, mouth just barely twitching at the corner. “It’s going to be busy this weekend.”

“Oh!” Shirayuki’s eyes round, matching the curve of her mouth. “I didn’t think of that. It doesn’t have to be right now. Maybe in another...week? Or so?”

Kiki whips out her phone, flicking through with one finger. “How about...the seventeenth?”

“Ah...” Shirayuki squints, eyes rolling upward like her brain is an open book she can skim for answers. “Y-yes. I think that’s all right.”

Zen stares. “Did you just...pick a random date?”

“No.” Kiki clicks her screen off, slipping it back into her pocket. “This weekend will still have traffic from the fourth. Next week we’re supposed to submit our paperwork to the student affairs office for this semester, and I know you haven’t started. I don’t want to go during a weekend rush, and Thursday is far into the week where if we have any last second problems with student affairs, we won’t have to reschedule.” She holds out a hand, ta-da. “The seventeenth.”

It’s not fair how she can just...do all that. “W-well, all right. But we still have to make sure that Obi and Mitsuhide--”

“Hey, Obi,” Kiki calls out, catching his attention as he cuts across the lawn toward them. “What are you doing on July seventeenth?”

In full sunlight, in the view of every member of the frat, Obi stumbles over absolutely nothing. “W-what?”

“July seventeenth.” she repeats archly as he slinks up beside her, arms resting on the rail. “Are you doing anything.”

When he thinks of Obi at rest, he thinks of languid limbs, of a frustratingly canted smile and glittering eyes, but--

He’s not any of that now. His troublesome mouth lays in a tense line, the corners of his eyes creased and wary. “Why?”

“We want to go somewhere, all five of us,” Shirayuki informs him giddily, mouth stretching from ear to hear. “And Zen suggested Six Flags--”

“Oh no.” He holds up his hands, shaking his head. “No way. Hard pass. I don’t do amusement parks.”

Kiki arches a brow, unimpressed. “Is that so.”

“Yeah.” He tosses his head, mouth straining towards casual derision and falling short. “Not my scene.”

“Oh really.” The mild look Kiki levels at him had leveled lesser men, but Obi only flinches. “Too cool for them, huh?”

His shoulders twitch. “Sure, we’ll go with that.”

“Ohh,” Zen grins, enjoying the way Obi squirms like a cat with his head caught in a fence. “So you mean that’s not really the reason? You have some other secret, terrible Bugs Bunny trauma in your past, maybe?”

“Well, I have to tell you,” Obi says loftily, “I’ve never really cared for Yosemite Sam.”

Shirayuki frowns. “We really don’t have to--”

“I think we all know this is just to obscure your Lola Bunny fetish,” Kiki deadpans.

“Excuse me?” Obi presses a hand to his chest, aghast. “Space Jam is a formative experience. To say any of us don’t owe Lola Bunny--”

“Hey.” Mitsuhide hops up the steps, wiping the sweat pouring down his neck. Zen valiantly doesn’t notice how Kiki stares. “The burgers have been done for a bit. What’s keeping all of you?”

“Obi is allergic to fun,” Kiki informs him, earning a shocked gasp from Obi.

“That’s not it!” he protests. “You just want to go to Six Flags--”

“Oh, Six Flags!” Mitsuhide’s mouth break into a guileless grin. “I love amusement parks.”

Obi stares, jaw slack. “Big Guy, don’t do this to me...”

Zen grins. “I dunno, Obi. Looks like you’re outvoted.”

Shirayuki shifts beside him, wringing her hands. “Oh no, I don’t think-- if Obi doesn’t want to go, we can just pick--”

“Nah.” Obi waves her off, one hand clasping at his shoulder. “You guys can do what you want. I’ll just sit this one out.”

“Obi--”

“I better check in on Shiira,” he says, stilted. “Don’t want them blowing up the front forty by accident.”

Shirayuki half stands, but it’s too late, he’s already sauntering away, laughing at he calls out to the brothers on the lawn.

“Don’t worry, Shirayuki.” Mitsuhide assures her with a clap on her shoulder. “He’ll come around.”

“I...” Zen watches the way her mouth sets, too knowing, a grim white line cutting through the flush of her face. “I don’t know about that.”

[xxpadfootxx]

🐾Since When Do Heroes Have Paws? Part 5/6 (Lightening in a Bottle - KamiJirou)🐾

Summary: Jirou & Kaminari go to a place from Jirou’s childhood where they both learn a little bit more about each other and themselves.

A/N: The song I used for Jirou’s shining moment in this fic is called “Howl” by Florence and the Machine. I highly recommend listing to it if you haven’t already, it’s one of my favorite songs which is why I wanted to use it! So enjoy! That’s my song rec of the day 😂

~~~

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” Jirou said to herself as she glanced around her feverishly, her eyes roving all over the street around her for the stupid dork she was supposed to be looking after. “Kaminari where the hell are you!?”

Hoisting the duffle bag she carried higher up onto her shoulder, Jirou began moving through the throngs of people, asking around and looking for any sign that Kaminari had passed through the streets. Minutes quickly turned into hours as she asked around, her nerves spiking. Forcing herself to remain calm and using the skills she had learned as a hero in training, she schooled her features and moved to the nearest pet store, focusing on getting as much information as possible.

The pair had gone on a walk just like a lot of their friends had done, finding it to be the easiest way for the students to spend time with their canine counterparts. Jirou had decided that the energetic Shibu Inu could use the energy release and had taken him to a deeper part of town where very few of the students usually roamed. She had brought the duffle bag with her, carrying some new clothes for Kaminari, assuming that he wouldn’t have clothes on him when he transformed back into a person. They had walked together for a while, enjoying the sights and sounds of the city that they almost never got to see, trying new foods and listening to the most interesting music they had ever heard. Jirou had been to this part of town before, her father taking her there often for music concerts, and had felt a soft warmth in her heart at seeing the bright sparkle in her friend’s eyes when he experienced her favorite places and tasted her favorite foods. It wasn’t until Jirou had paused to look at some records displayed in a shop window that Kaminari had wandered off, the musical girl turning around to find the shiny gold dog missing amongst the swarm of people in the streets.

Opening the doors to the first pet store she came across, Jirou made her way to the counter, fear pulsing in her heart. She wanted him to be okay, NEEDED him to be okay, but she needed a place to start before she’d be able to find him. She hoped that he had just smelled the scent of food wafting through a shop window and had lost track of her in his excitement. Leaning an elbow on the desk and twirling a finger in her earphone jack nervously, she cleared her throat, waiting for the young man behind the desk to look up from his phone.

“What can I do for you?” the man asked, not looking up.

“I’m looking for my dog, have you seen a gold-colored Shibu Inu anywhere near here?”

The man looked at Jirou then, his dark brown eyes locking on hers and gazing at her with a bored expression.

“That was your dog?”

“Yes! You found him?” Jirou asked, hoping that his tone of contempt didn’t mean Kaminari had done something wrong.

“Not exactly,” the man said, looking back down at her phone and scrolling mindlessly through the contents of the screen. “I saw him walking around, trying to get into a bunch of the shops so I called animal control and had them pick him up. He is in Cherryton, go left and then make another left at the old church and you will find your precious pup.”

Jirou felt a flash of hot rage at the situation but forced her features to remain polite as she bowed to the man behind the desk.

“Thank you,” She said, backing away with a nod before spinning on her heel and running towards the pound.

_________________________________

Kaminari whined softly as he peered through the cage bars, trying to see out of the grimy truck windows. The vehicle bounced on the rough road, making Kaminari jump a little. Kaminari began to pant, his anxiety getting higher and higher by the minute.

“Damn it!” Kaminari barked into the air. He was alone, and he knew that nobody would be able to understand him anyway but it felt good to vent his frustration into the air. Why hadn’t he just stayed with Jirou?

Kaminari laid down on the cold metal of the cage floor and rested his head on his paws, whimpering as he thought back to his time with Jirou. The normally reserved girl had been bright and happy all day, excited to show him the wonders of her childhood in this very musically affluent neighborhood, paying for his food and taking him all around town so that he could experience the outdoor concerts and street performers alike. He had really come to enjoy it, the music thrumming to the beat of his heart, the food overwhelming his senses with delicious scents and tastes, the constant background noise of people talking, laughing, and having a good time all around him. He whimpered again as dread and regret filled his heart, nother bump on the road making his whole body jolt painfully against the bars of the cage. He had left Jirou’s side only because of a sausage a small child had dropped for him across the street, the smell just as intoxicating as the rest of the food in this part of town. He had never meant to be gone for long, but had bounded over without thinking, zigzagging through cars and people alike to make it to the stick of meat on the sidewalk. The sausage had indeed been just as delectable as he had imagined it would be, but when he lifted his head, Jirou had been nowhere to be found. He had gone back to the record shop where he had left her but amongst the vast crowds of people he couldn’t find her. Kaminari had then spent his time wandering the streets, trying to get a good look into every shop to find his best friend. That was when he had been horribly surprised by the feeling of a metal loop wrapping around his throat harshly, a tall, burly man holding onto the other end of the loop with a thick metal pole and pulling Kaminari gently towards his truck.

Kaminari lifted his head as the vehicle took a sharp left turn and then slowed to a stop. He heard the sound of boots crunching on gravel and moved his head in tandem with the sound as the man made his way to the back of the truck. Throwing the doors open, the man held the metal loop in one hand and the keys to his kennel in the other. Kaminari rarely acted aggressively towards anyone but when he saw the man reach for the lock on his cage, Kaminari slunk back to the corner of his cage and bared his teeth with a low warning growl. He had zero intention of biting the man, but he needed the man to move aside so he could go find Jirou, the truck probably having taken him miles away from her. He hoped she was worried about him, but he honestly had no idea.

“Take it easy, buddy,” the man said, unlatching the cage and using the metal loop to grab ahold of Kaminari before the electric dog could make his escape. Kaminari let out another low growl but felt powerless at the hands of the man, not wanting to electrocute the man and either kill him or electrocute half the block, his quirk nearly uncontrollable in his dog form.

Having no choice but to follow the man, Kaminari allowed himself to be dragged half-heartedly out of the truck and towards a large brick building. Kaminari’s eyes widened once he saw the sign on the front. He was at the pound. Immediately, he began to struggle against the metal wire, his legs pushed out in front of him and his back arched. With a normal leash, he would have been able to either hold his ground or pull out of it, but with the metal loop around his neck, all he succeeded in doing was cutting off the air supply to his lungs, eventually relaxing just to breathe.

“That a boy,” the man said gently once Kaminari relaxed, tugging on the loop twice to bring him inside. The noise that erupted as soon as the doors opened made Kaminari whine a little, the sound of several dogs barking and howling striking his overly sensitive ears like a mallet.

“It’s alright buddy,” the man said as he led Kaminari to one of the kennels lining the walls. “They are just excited to meet a new friend. I know it can be stressful but knowing you, you won’t be here long. You are a beauty, someone will scoop you up within the next day or two.” The man made sure Kaminari was all the way in the kennel before he removed the metal loop and quickly secured the latch, locking Kaminari in. Kaminari immediately placed his large front paws on the chain links of the kennel, looking after the man as he walked away.

“First time here?”

Kaminari stiffened in surprise as a voice slid through the kennel bars behind him. Whipping his head around, he stared at the small black chihuahua that had spoken to him from the cage behind him. He hadn’t even considered the possibility that he might be able to understand other dogs in this form. Releasing the cage bars from his grasp, he turned around slowly and sat down, giving the chihuahua his undivided attention.

“Yeah.”

“Got a family?”

“Yeah,” Kaminari said, thinking back to his parents and his fellow students at U.A. The thought of Jirou made guilt, love, and sadness hit him so hard he shifted uncomfortably, desperately trying to sort through his feelings.

“They leave ya?”

Kaminari’s incredulous gaze snapped back to the chihuahua at the question.

“No, I got lost in the crowds, the person I was with is here, she just doesn’t know where I am.”

“Ah,” the chihuahua said softly, looking down at her paws. Kaminari studied her then and noticed the thinness in her appearance. He knew that chihuahuas tended to be thinner than most other dog breeds but even just looking at her, he could tell she was malnourished.

“Where do you come from?” He asked.

“I had a home once,” she said quietly. “They grew tired of me when they realized my frail body wasn’t strong enough to handle their young children’s rough playing.”

Kaminari felt an arrow shoot through his heart as he heard her dejected voice. She looked him in the eye as she lifted one of her small front paws up in the air, the limb obviously twisted from an old injury, most likely a broken bone. Kaminari growled but immediately lightened up when she shrank back, her body starting to tremble.

“Sorry, I was mad at your people, not at you,” Kaminari said in a warm voice. He had always heard about what it was like for animals at the pound, especially pets that were dumped unmercilessly at places that couldn’t really afford to give them the care they needed. Despite this, he had never pictured it to be this bad. He had never experienced this before. The chihuahua licked her lips and looked around nervously, her trembling subsiding slightly but not leaving entirely.

Suddenly, Kaminari set his face into a determined doggy smile, his eyes bright as he watched her.

“I promise you will find a home. I don’t know when, and I don’t know how, but the right person will find you.”

The chihuahua wagged her tail a little bit only to jump with a small yelp as the loud sound of the main door being slammed open echoed loudly throughout the space, sending the other dogs into a furious bout of barks and whines. Kaminari resisted the urge to join them with his own loud barks and glanced around the bars of his cage to see who had opened the door to the pound only to feel his face break out in the brightest smile he had ever had. Standing at the entryway was Jirou, her chest heaving and her sweat glistening on her skin, obviously having run from wherever they had parted all the way to the pound on foot.

‘Kaminari!”

“May I help you, miss?” The man that had taken Kaminari asked, standing up from a lone chair he had been sitting in, discarding the newspaper he had been scanning.

“Yes, the shopkeeper at Pony’s Pet Place told me she called you to collect my dog because he was wandering around aimlessly. We got separated while walking around town. Did you collect a golden Shibu Inu earlier today?”

The man considered her for a moment.

“Do you have proof of ownership?”

Jirou froze, her eyes wide. Of course she didn’t have proof of ownership, Kaminari wasn’t supposed to be a dog! She glanced down at her shoes, unable to think of a proper solution.

“No…” Jirou mumbled quietly.

“Then how do I know you aren’t just trying to get a free dog? They are only fifty bucks you know,” the man said.

Jirou sat still for a minute before twisting her body around to reach into her bag. Kaminari felt his mouth drop open as she opened up her wallet and pulled out the proper cash, holding it out to the man with a determined look on her face.

“The golden Shibu Inu, please.”

The man observed her for a second before taking the money from her and walking down the aisles to open Kaminari’s cage door. He leaned down, ready to secure a leash around his neck, only to be bowled over as the energetic dog darted past him and bolted straight into Jirou’s arms. He was in complete shock at her reaction to finding him, her arms wrapping around him tightly and even a few tears dripping from her eyes to slide down her cheeks and land with soft taps on his fur. Suddenly, she leaned back and tapped his nose with one finger sharply, causing him to jerk back in surprise.

“Denki, never leave me like that ever again, you hear me? I was worried sick about you!”

Kaminari was overwhelmed. He was overwhelmed by her reaction, her calling him by his first name, her crying over him, and his swelling love for her. He leaned forward and nuzzled his face into her neck and soft hair, breathing in her sweet scent and wagging his tail like a propeller.

“I am sorry for letting them take you to this place though,” Jirou whispered softly enough that the man couldn’t hear her.

Kaminari nibbled her ear comfortingly then, his tail wagging harder as he tried to tell her in his own way that it was alright. Blushing slightly, Jirou stood up and motioned for Kaminari to follow, waving goodbye to the man. Just before she could leave, she felt the man tap her shoulder. Jirou turned to confront him only to have her money shoved back into her face. She looked up at him quizzically but the man merely shoved the money into her hands.

“It’s pretty clear he is actually your dog, take him and have a good day,” the man said, disappearing without another word.

__________________

Jirou and Kaminari had been on their way to the train station when Kaminari’s transformation back into a human began. It had started when he had been able to talk to her in a language she could understand, something that led the two teens to run into the nearest building to look for a bathroom. They made it just in time, Kaminari rushing into the bathroom with the duffle bag strapped across his back just as his body started to shift. Jirou waited outside the bathroom for him, gazing around the small bar and restaurant they were in curiously. A few people sat sporadically at the various tables in the space and a lone musician was beating a lazy tune on her piano on a very small stage at the front. She finished her song just as Kaminari came back out of the bathroom, fully changed back into a person and dressed in the rockstar themed clothes she had brought for him. The pair hugged as the spattering of lazy clapping could be heard when the woman finished her song, the patrons in the bar going back to their own affairs shortly after.

“Thank you, thank you,” the musician said, her voice beautiful if not underused. “This next one is one of my favorites!”

Jirou ignored the musician at first and tried to help Kaminari to the door but her friend stopped her, his eyes gleaming as he looked up at the musician on the stage.

“I know it’s late but we have some time before we really have to leave. Why not enjoy it here for a while? When I was a dog I didn’t really get to see much and I really want to see more of what you grew up with.”

Jirou blushed but allowed him to drag her to a nearby table without any resistance as the singer struck up a chord once more, her beautiful voice filling the tavern with joy and energy. The pair sat in a comfortable silence, their eyes trained on the beautiful singing on the stage, her voice sending shivers up the spines of everyone in the bar.

“This is what you grew up with?” Kaminari leaned over to ask as the melodic tune sent another bolt of energy through his body.

“Yeah,” Jirou said with a nod. “My mom and dad would bring me to places like these when I was a little girl just to hear and feel the music. I always loved it when we played together at home, it was like our own personal concert and it was special to me too but out here, it just… feels different. It’s hard to explain, but the energy and the emotion and the aesthetic, all of it just gave me goosebumps. It was my favorite thing to do, come out here, sit on my dad’s lap, and feel the music take over.”

“Wow,” Kaminari said in an awed whisper. “I have my own set of special memories, but if there was one thing I wish I had experienced as a kid, it would be this.”

Jirou smiled and turned back to face the singer as she belted out the highest note in the song in a gorgeous arch, earning some short-lived applause and even a few cheers.

“But then again,” Kaminari continued after a moment. “I wouldn't’ have been able to experience it with you if I had already been here as a kid. Thanks for opening my eyes to something new, Kyoka.”

Jirou whipped her head around to look at him, her eyes large and her lips parted slightly.

“I only called you by your first name earlier because it would’ve been weird to call a dog by a last name,” she protested.

“Yeah I know, but I’m calling you by your first name because I think it’s pretty.”

Jirou snapped her mouth shut and turned away from him, a slight blush blooming on her cheeks. She was grateful in that moment for the dim lights and darkness outside as she fought to control her emotions.

The singer finally finished her song, her fingers hitting one last dramatic note on the piano keys before the bar broke out into applause, their smiles bright and eyes wide, still trying to take in the beautiful song they had just heard.

“Thank you so much everyone! You have been such an amazing audience tonight!” More cheers echoed throughout the restaurant to her words. “Now I have a question for y’all, are there any people who have been here before? I see a lot of new faces but not too many old ones, anyone here who’s from the area?”

Jirou was going to ignore the question and suggest they leave when a few people from the restaurant raised their hands, only a few, but some. Before she could react, Kaminari touched her palm with his fingers and jerked his head in the singer’s direction. Rolling her eyes and sighing in mock annoyance, Jirou raised her hand up for everyone to see. She had been doing it for the hell of it but soon regretted it as the singer’s eyes landed on her raised arm. Leaning down, the singer spoke up into her microphone.

“Hey, you in the back, with the earphone jacks, I haven’t seen you before, are you from around here?”

“Oh, no but I used to come here as a child,” Jirou said, shoving the embarrassment that bubbled up her throat back down into her stomach. She could answer a simple question, no need to feel flustered.

“Well, welcome back!” The singer said, her teeth gleaming and her face almost glowing. She radiated confidence but it didn’t seem overbearing. She seemed sure of herself but modest and gentle. Jirou smiled at her but immediately felt her heart drop to her stomach and her embarrassment skyrocket with the musician’s next words. “If you used to come here when you were younger, you would know this next song, why don’t you come up here and help me out with this one?”

Jirou froze, her mouth hanging open as a few heads turned to look at her. Her eyes darted to Kaminari, begging him with her gaze to have him drag her out of here but he only smiled mischievously. Stupid dunceface…

Jirou fought to keep from lashing out at him when he gently pushed her between the shoulders, sending her towards the stage. Forcing herself to face the stage, she fought her excitement and embarrassment with every step, actively telling her jelly legs not to shake or collapse. She walked up beside the singer and leaned down so she could whisper the next song title in her ear. Jirou perked up as the sweet woman told her what the song was, nostalgia flooding her heart and her veins. The musician then turned to the piano and prepared to play, Jirou making her way up to the microphone at the front lip of the stage. Her eyes roved over the bar to find everyone’s eyes on her, making her nerves skyrocket. She took a deep breath and managed to calm down slightly when she saw Kaminari’s encouraging thumbs up. The musician then struck the first chord, her fingers gracing over the keys as if they were made of glass, each touch filled with love and care. Jirou knew that feeling, loved playing each of her instruments as if she were caring for a child. She felt her heart lift at the sight and turned back to the microphone, her mind set and her embarrassment locked away.

“If you could only see the beast you've made of me I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free Screaming in the dark, I howl when we're apart Drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart.”

Jirou closed her eyes as she let the song flow through her body, her heart setting the tempo as she began.

“My fingers claw your skin, try to tear my way in You are the moon that breaks the night for which I have to howl My fingers claw your skin, try to tear my way in You are the moon that breaks the night for which I have to Howl, howl Howl, howl.”

Kaminari’s jaw dropped as she sang, her voice sounding even more beautiful than the musician at the piano, at least to him. The lyrics of the song made him blush, their meaning hammering into his heart until it ached with his love for her. Even though the musician had made it clear that this song was an old one, he felt as if it were specifically meant for him. Aside from the fact that he had just spent the last few days as a dog, he felt as if the lyrics of love and desperation were meant for him. He had no reason to think this, but he felt it anyway and only hoped to the gods it was true. She was so beautiful and the joy on her face as she reaccustomed herself with her roots made him feel like he would never be sad ever again.

“Now there's no holding back, I'm making an attack My blood is singing with your voice, I want to pour it out The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallowed ground Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins I want to find you, tear out all of your tenderness And howl, howl Howl, howl Be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers Starts so soft and sweet and turns them to hunters Hunters, hunters, hunters Hunters, hunters, hunters The fabric of your flesh, pure as a wedding dress Until I wrap myself inside your arms I cannot rest The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallowed ground And howl!”

“If you could only see the beast you've made of me I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallow'ed ground.”

The bar went silent as the last glorious note rang out of her vocal chords before exploding with applause and cheers. Jirou’s face was flushed and she was breathing heavily but her eyes were filled to the brim with happiness, Kaminari could see it from all the way in the back of the bar. Jirou bowed to the audience and then to the singer before jumping off of the stage and jogging up to Kaminari, her face still glowing.

“Sorry Kaminari, I didn’t mean to mffffh!” Jirou was cut off as Kaminari covered her mouth with his own, his love for her overflowing as her beautiful song still rang through his head and rippled over his heart, filling his bloodstream and flowing throughout his entire body. Jirou pulled back in shock, her eyes wide and her mouth agape. Doubt suddenly flooded Kaminari and his eyes darted to the floor with a nervous chuckle.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me, you just looked and sounded so beautiful and you came to save me today and-”

Now it was his turn to be cut off as Jirou roughly grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him to her in a passionate kiss. Kaminari only hesitated for a second as the shock of what was happening washed over him before he snapped out of it and grasped either side of her face in his hands, bolts of electricity that had nothing to do with his quirk running up and down his spine at her touch and taste. When they broke apart, they were panting heavily, their eyes lidded lovingly and their fingers leaving teasing touches along each other’s arms.

“Let’s go home,” Jirou whispered in his ear.

“Hold on, I want to do one more thing first,” Kaminari said, grabbing her wrist and dragging her out into the street.

____________________________

The man had seemed surprised when they gave him the money back but hadn’t questioned it, merely moving to the back and coming back out with a small black chihuahua in his arms.

“This the one you want?”

“Yes,” Kaminari said, his smile bright as he saw her tiny black tail wag hopefully.

Jirou gave him a questioning look but he didn’t say anything as he handed over the fifty dollars Jirou had lent him and held his arms out for the little dog. He held the chihuahua to his chest as the teens made their way out of the pound and headed for the train station, tired and ready to go home.

“What was that all about?” Jirou asked once they sat down on the train.

“When I was a dog, I found out I was able to communicate with other dogs. This dog was in the kennel next to me and was left there after she got injured. I decided to bring her home where she will have my parents as loving owners. My mom has been wanting a friend ever since I started staying in the dorms at U.A. so I thought someone small and low maintenance would be good for her and my dad to share.”

Jirou watched her new boyfriend in surprise, a small smile adorning her lips.

“What are you going to call her?”

“I think… I think I will call her Melody,” Kaminari said, his eyes sparkling as the small black puppy curled up to sleep in his arms. Jirou leaned into him and rested her arm on his leg while he wrapped an arm around her waist.

“I think it's beautiful.”

“Kyoka?”

“Yes, Denki?”

“Thank you, for everything.”

“Anytime dork,” she said, snuggling into his side as she too drifted off, surrounded by Kaminari’s comforting warmth. He may be a dork but he was HER dork.

[meetmeinthematinee]

Pushed Buttons

AN: This is a requested story.  Dom!John x reader, 18+, NSFW. Warnings for hitting with an object, swearing, facial (yes, you read that right. I kinda went off. oops!) Anon, hope it’s close to what you wanted. “I asked you to pick up one goddamn thing for me and you forgot. I take care of EVERYTHING ALL THE TIME. All you had to do was pick up the fucking milk. Like I asked. For fucks’ sake John!”

“Watch your language.” He said through gritted teeth. He hated when you swore, which was a pity because it was like a second language to you. The fact that he’d call you out on it now? You could hear your pulse pound in your ears. 

“Or what John? I’m fucking pissed. I don’t ask for much. I know work takes up a lot of real estate but just once...”

He cut you off with a hard stare. The kind that let you know you’d crossed the line. Normally you’d heed that warning if you weren’t already so angry you could feel your blood boiling. 

“You -- need to calm down. You know I don’t like when you talk like that. Stop acting like a spoiled child.” He didn’t yell. His tone was even but there was an icy detachment that kept you from continuing your ranting. He grabbed his keys off the counter. “I’ll get the fucking milk. We’re going to have a talk when I get back.” 

For a while you angrily paced the kitchen. You didn’t really know why you were so upset with him. Maybe it was because he’d been away so much lately. Or maybe you were just bored and felt like pushing his buttons. Whatever it was suddenly the house felt suffocating -- remarkable considering how open it was. “Fuck it, I’m going for a walk.” You leashed up dog and headed out into the woods behind your house, leaving your phone behind. Purposefully. See how it feels to be forgotten about John, you thought as you made your way between the trees. 

It always amazed you how different the air was in the woods. Much cooler, damper. It smelled fresh but also earthy. Dog loved it here too. Bounding around, chasing after small birds and the occasional chipmunk. You could feel the tension melting out of your chest. Your pulse steadying, your breathing back to normal. Though, you knew you’d be in for it when he got home. You’d broken not one but two cardinal rules today. A sharp whistle cut through the air and dog was off through the trees like a shot. “Thanks buddy.” You said quietly as you watched him head in the direction of the house. 

When you finally turned around John was storming towards you. He roughly grabbed you by the arm pulling you against him. You yelped in surprise. “What’s the matter with you? You know you’re supposed to tell me if you’re going somewhere. You’re acting like a real brat today. Now that you have my undivided attention little one, I’m not sure you’re going to like it.” Keeping hold of your arm he walked quickly in the direction of home, tugging you along with him. “I was just outside.” Even to you that sounded pathetic. “Did I say I was looking for excuses? Stop whining!" He walked faster, one hand gripping your arm so tightly you knew it would leave marks. He was walking too quickly for you to keep up in your sandals. You stumbled and almost lost your footing. "John, slow down!" He barely even broke his stride as he sneered at you and then roughly slung you over his shoulder. You squealed as you hung upside down. “ENOUGH!” He shouted. “Daddy’s angry!” You wheezed out as your body bounced against his broad, muscular back with every step. Blood rushing to your head. He stopped walking and you felt the sharp sting of his hand against you ass. And then again. It echoed against the back of the house. “Had enough?” “Yes, Sir.” 

He slung you onto the bed. The sudden change in position was dizzying and you landed with a bounce and a huff. John leaned down over you and gripped your face with one hand. Curling his fingers around your jaw, forcing your face upward to look at him. Your eyes went wide. “Oh, so the brave little brat has vanished has she? Playing shy won’t save you. Not after your little temper tantrum today.” You flushed with shame. And excitement. 

He let go of your face and roughly stripped off your leggings nearly pulling you off the bed with them. Grabbing your hips he flipped you over and pulled you up onto your knees. 

“Did I say you could move?!?” He barked as you tried to lay down.

“No, sir.” 

His belt jangled and then you felt it -- the smooth leather coming down on your bare cheek. You cried out in pain but also in pleasure. 

“That’s for swearing.” He hit you again. “That’s for not telling me where you were going.” He brought the belt down again. “That’s for being a little brat.” You knew you were going to be uncomfortable sitting for a while. “And that.” He whispered into your ear as your cheeks burned from that last smack. “Was just because I wanted to.”

You whimpered and pressed your thighs together. He smoothed his large hands over your cheeks. Across the raised and red marks he’d just laid across them. You groaned and pushed yourself back into his hands. He slid his fingers down, dipping into the wet, heat of your cunt. 

“Someone’s eager.” He murmured as he slid a finger inside you, his others brushing teasingly against your clit. You couldn’t help but moan as he added a second finger. You rocked back against his hand. Fucking yourself on his fingers. 

He flipped you over and knelt at the foot of the bed. Throwing your legs over his shoulders. 

“I’m going to ruin you, darling girl.” He said looking up at you with a smirk before pressing his tongue against your cunt. He took his time. Alternating long, slow licks with little laps. Exploring you with his mouth as if it were the first time. Wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking while sliding his fingers deep inside you. Curling against your g-spot and making you gasp for air. Your hand tangled into his hair while you played with your tits with the other. 

“Please John. Please. I’m so close.”

“You can wait.”

He withdrew from you. Standing up and taking off the last of his clothes while you whimpered.

Desperately, you slid your hand down to run your fingers over your clit but he roughly grabbed your wrist and stopped you.

“Now I’ll make you wait longer.’

“No!” It came out more of a moan than a command. 

“My bratty girl.” He smirked down at you. He loved how desperate you were. For him. 

“See how hard I am? What you do to me?” He said, running a hand over his hard cock in his boxer briefs. He let go of your wrist and fixed you with a glare.

“Try anything and that’s it for today.”

You nodded and twisted the sheets around your fists. Watching with parted lips, taking uneven breaths as he took off his underwear. He had the most beautiful cock you’d ever seen. It was hard not to drool when you thought of it, let alone when it was right in front of you. “Please. I need you inside me.” You whimpered. 

He grinned at you as he stroked himself. “Oh, you do? I don’t know about that.” His head dropped back as he moved his hand expertly up and down his length. Catching his lower lip between his teeth. “PLEASE. SIR! Please. I need you. I need to feel your cock inside me.” 

He groaned and looked at you through lust glazed eyes before he finally climbed on top of you. Pressing you down into the mattress. His hard cock teasingly slipping between your folds as he rocked against you. “Is this what you want little one?” You moaned and arched against him.

“Or is this what you want?” He asked as he guided himself inside inch by inch before pulling out completely. He slid back in slowly. This time bottoming out before he pulled out again. “God, you’re so wet.” He plunged back into you. He repeated that a few times until you were a mess under him. Mewling and begging for more. This time he stayed inside you, thrusting hard. Snapping his hips against yours hard enough that you knew your thighs would be bruised tomorrow. “Lookit you. Soaking wet. God. Your cunt feels amazing around my cock. Fuck.” He moaned into your ear. “Uh hun” was all you could manage to get out in between moans.  

“Come for me. Come on. I want to feel you come all over my cock babygirl.” He rasped as his fingers found your clit. His hair tickling you face as he leaned down to kiss along you neck. You’d been desperately hanging on. Not wanting to disappoint him and as soon as he gave the command you let go. Arching your back and pulling hard on his hair. Your muscles contracting so hard that you almost managed to push him out of you while you gasped his name. As soon as you were together enough to move you pulled his hand away from your clit. You met each of his thrusts with one of your own. Whimpering softy as you became more and more oversensitive. His thrusts were becoming deeper but more erratic. You knew he was close. You pulled him tighter against you. Clawing your nails down his back. “I want you to fill me up. I want to feel you come inside me John.” Instead he pulled out. He moved so that he was kneeling astride your chest. Pinning your hands to your sides with his legs. “That’s only for good girls.” He growled as he jerked himself off over top of you. You gasped and managed to wiggle out a hand from underneath him. Dipping your fingers into your wet cunt and working circles around your clit. “Do you want to come on my face, sir?” His moan was answer enough. His hand gripped lightly around your neck. Holding you in place. You panted and closed your eyes, finding your way to another orgasm as you listened to his groans and hitching breaths. His come splattering across your face and neck as he moaned your name. 

He leaned his forehead against yours. Catching his breath for a moment before pulling a wipe from the nightstand drawer and gently wiping his come off your face. He pressed another one into your hand before flopping down beside you. Winding his arm protectively around your waist. Chuckling softly as you twitched through your aftershocks. “I almost had a heart attack when you asked if I wanted to come on your face.” “Well, don’t do that. I want you to be able to do it again, John.” You grinned at him slyly. 

He trailed his fingers down your now clean face and pressed a soft, loving kiss to your lips. “You’re incredible. I’m sorry that I made you feel unimportant today. I know those little things matter. I don’t take you for granted, ever. If that’s what you were upset about.” “I honestly don’t know why I was so upset. Maybe I just needed this? But, thank you, love. For saying that.” 

Tags:

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@i-cant-remember-my-old-login

@en-absoluto

@fanficsrusz

@baphometwolf666

P.S. If anyone else wants to be tagged when I post a fic lemme know! I’m happy to oblige my fellow thirsty folks.

[mythopoeticreality]

The Road Goes Ever On - Chapter 3

And our adventure continues!^^ Everything is starting to come together now, meanwhile no one has any idea what’s actually going on xD

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22900423/chapters/55152814

Chapter 3

By the time he’d woken Huan and set down the track himself, Curufinwë was a good several yards ahead of them, a swiftly shrinking shadow-speck becoming lost in the twisting corridors and narrow passageways the arching branches above created as they wove within one another’s grasp.

“Iron hells!” Tyelcormo nearly spat the words,swinging himself onto Huan’s back. Not a word needed to pass to the great wolfhound before he went sprinting off, the earth between the two of them and Curvo devoured in Huan’s great, loping strides.

Grasping twigs and low hanging branches snapped and snagged against his cloak and the hair whipping out behind him. Tyelcormo pressed low against Huan’s back, fingers digging into his fur.

“You need to stop him. He goes the wrong way,” Huan said. Spoken in the language of Hounds, the words came out a rumbling growl, one Tyelcormo felt in his bones as much as he heard in his ears.

“What? What do you mean? That path-”

“Does not carry the pup’s scent. Of what scent it does carry, I cannot say but...” The hound only trailed off, grunts and snarls transformed into a low whine.

Celegorm frowned. It was not like Huan to be confused. How far had he traveled? How much had the both of them encountered? Some things even now Tyelcormo did not think he could adequately describe to others. For Huan to not be able to identify a scent…

Tyelcomo pressed his lips together, for a long moment just frowning at the blur of silver and shadows about him before quickly shaking his head, urging Huan on.

“Curvo!” He called out as they neared, “Curufinwë! Stop! Slow down!”

Curvo ignored him. Tyelcormo cursed again.

“You know what to do.” He grunted to Huan.

Tyelcormo braced himself, but even so his breath still came in all a rush as Huan lunged forward, breaking into full speed. His face pressed down against the hound’s thick, ropy coat, as Huan rounded on Curvo, cornering him like a deer.

As he pushed himself back upright, he was met with a glower that could likely melt stone. Ah, well, they did always say that Curvo was most like Atar…

“Get out of my way, Tyelcormo.”

“Not until you listen.”

Curvo’s brows shot up at that, slowly his head turned on it’s side. His eyes remained ever fixed on Tyelcormo. “Until I listen?” He repeated. His voice remained level, even, but there was a blade hidden in those words. Meanwhile, Curvo’s thumb kept flicking, like one of Kano’s metronomes, over the blade held in his hand. “Forgive me brother, but were you not the one who alerted me to this matter? My son is --”

“Not down this way.” Tyelcormo cut in, “Or, at the least, Huan does not pick up upon his scent.”

There was a sharp hiss. Curvo sucking the air in between his teeth, as the knife bit down into his flesh. Were it not for that tight grip, that leash-like control he held over himself always, Tyelcormo was sure his brother would have bolted by now. He could see it, lurking there just below the surface, in the sharp ridge of bone that stood out along his knuckles and that flicker of worry just behind his eyes.

“We waste time, then.” Those were Curvo’s only words before he turned on his heel and began driving off back the way they had come.

Tyelcormo sighed. He trotted up Huan beside his brother. “We will find him, Curvo.” he insisted. “You must believe that.”

In an effort to comfort him, Huan leaned his head towards the elf, nuzzling against his chest.

“Tch.” Curufinwe raised his arms to push the hound away. Only to freeze.

Huan had gone still. Huan was growling.

In the next moment Huan rounded back on the trail again, lunging down it.

“Huan! To heel!” Tyelcormo cried, “What is the matter with you?”

“That scent. It is on him.”

“What? You mean--”

“Yes, whatever it was that took the pup, it has come down this way. And recently.”

Tyelcormo’s breath came in sharp. He swung around, calling over his shoulder to his brother, “Curvo, come! We have found something…”

~*~

“If it is another world you are from, can the same be said for those Hunters you spoke to earlier?”

By now, Fëanáro expected the answer. The silence that followed, that vague turn of the head, a gesture of the hand, halfway between a balancing scale and a dismissive wave. It hadn’t been long, perhaps an hour or so at most since first he’d encountered the Stranger, yet he felt he was beginning to understand -- not the man himself, of course, not really, but what he was like, at least.

And so he continued on. “If they are, then I imagine they would have come here through a similar path, yes? And that is the route we look for now?” He’d just remembered the lead Huntsman saying something of the like to the young man earlier. It had slipped his mind before, but, as it was, Fëanáro was rather concerned with other matters at the time. “But if that is the case, then I should hardly think you would need me to find it…”

The Stranger was simply watching him as he asked these things, eyes resting upon him in a lazy half-lidded stare. The corner of his lips quirked upwards.

Fëanáro snorted, catching the man’s look, “By all means,” he drawled, “if you have anything to say, your input would be quite welcome.”

“If I felt any need for it, I would.”

Fëanáro fixed the stranger with a flat look. With a slow shake of his head, he returned his gaze to the surrounding trees and mushrooms poking out of the leaf litter. They at least provided answers if one knew what to look for.

“I will say this.” The stranger said after a moment or so, “you are nearing the truth of it.”

“Am I, now?”

“You are. They are not of this world. But it is theirs more than mine.”

“Of course.” Of course, that should be the answer the Stranger gave him. The man seemed completely incapable of speaking in anything but riddles, should he expect anything different?

The mushrooms along the way were growing more thickly now, in long clusters forming lines to either side of them. Fëanáro remembered passing this way, beneath Laurelin’s light he had first seen it and it had struck him as odd then, as if something were trying to guide the walker somewhere. Now, the world bleached of all color save for Telperion’s pale cast, it was almost eerie.

He knew at least, he was going in the right direction. He began picking up speed, his step more assured as he led the Stranger onward.

“You have followed this way before?”

Fëanáro glanced up as the Stranger next spoke. It was the tone in the man’s voice as much as anything -- surprise, just laced with a faint air of judgement (or atleast what he interpreted as such). It made his hackles rise. “Yes…” He said, drawing out the word if only to hold back his own frustration.

A low, thoughtful sort of hum, that was the entirety of the man’s response as his eyes played along the trail of mushrooms.

“And if I had not?” Fëanáro pressed, “Where would you be then?”

The stranger’s gaze flickered back to the elf. There was something piercing in that gaze, searching. As though he were looking into Fëanáro, rather than simply at him.“I would find my way.” he said, before simply turning to look straight on ahead. “Do you really have no idea where this road leads? No tales that tell of such places?”

“What? Of mushroom strewn paths that lead off to other worlds?” But there were tales. Half forgotten in Valinor, dismissed by scholars such as himself as mere misinterpretation, encounters with Maiar upon Middle-Earth, or vauge glimpses of Oromë’s company before anything was understood. Folklore on the same level of the Black Rider. And yet those words began to whisper in his mind now, Nermir, Nandini, Orrosi, Oromandi… “Children’s tales.” Fëanáro insisted. “You cannot be serious abou--”

A high, ringing bark broke through the woods at that moment. It happened so fast, there was no time to react. A blur of white. A grunt and a thud.

Turko?

It was the only thought able to register in Fëanáro’s mind in that split moment.

Tyelcormo sat, crouched over Huan’s back, his hair streaming about his face, his eyes a wild reflection of the Hound’s own. Huan himself stood growling down at the Stranger, now pinned beneath the hound’s great paws.

“Tyelco, call your hound off!” Curufinwë’s voice. A moment later, he too came crashing out through the trees, “We need answers now, not the bastard’s blood streaming out over--Atar?!” He cut himself off, his eyes widening, gaze flickering between the stranger so near to Huan’s teeth, and his own father.

~*~

“Where is he? What did you do with him?” The words were a low, rolling growl, the sort that stretched on, and twisted at some deep, animal part of him. The part that was a frightened hare, and only screamed to run, over and over.

Wild eyes and gleaming teeth. Long, snaking flows of silver hair. Hot, reeking breath huffed into his face and creeping along his neck. In those first shocked moments, there was only impressions. The ground tipping up over itself, the bite of stones and twisting tree roots into his back. The weight pressing into his shoulders.

He blinked, staring up at the towering creature that now loomed over him. His mind still reeling -- he was not used to being surprised, not like this. He should have known, should have heard whisperings of something -- it took him a moment even to separate hound from rider.

Hound. It was a hound wasn’t it? The size of a horse, yes, but still undeniably…

There were voices shouting off, a way back. The voice of the first man he’d met on the road --his guide-- rising. The Rider twisted around, barked something to the other two. John Uskglass would not have understood it even were he paying attention. As it stood, the hound’s growling had grown only lower and more insistent, especially as the rider now turned back, and demanded something of the Magician.

“Do not just lie there! Answer him! Where did you leave --”

“Who do you think I am?”

The hound’s ears pricked, and for a moment the sharp little pins of pressure at his shoulders --the hound’s claws digging in -- eased up just slightly. John could feel the weight of the Rider’s stare upon him as well.

“You speak to me?”

“As you speak to me.”

This earned John another low growl, “You try to distract me. To win my trust against those of my pack.”

“No, I do not.”

“Then why do you not speak to me?” This time the growl had a much more human quality to it. John’s eyes flickered upward to find himself staring down the Rider. “I could have your throat torn out right now, and yet rather than answer, you reply to my dog?”

It was a threat few would have dared to make in any of his own realms, and it struck the Raven King as rather ironic. What could he have done if of a mind to do it? A faint smirk quirked at his lips. But he only shook his head, shut his eyes, pressed a long breath out through his nose. “I reply to the one speaking to me in a tongue I can understand.”

A sharp bark of laughter from the Rider, “And what? Were you raised by hounds that you cannot speak as one of the Eldar?”

“Wolves.” The Raven King replied.

And perhaps he had pushed too far. It was not a comment to win trust, even on his own world. The Rider’s eyes flashed. The Hound began snarling again. Somewhere behind them voices started to murmur and a call was shouted in this direction.

To the Raven King, it grew all too tiresome.

And so he vanished. Fell into the drowning dark of the Hound’s own shadow looming over him.

The Hound yelped, leaping back as though afraid to vanish himself.

The Rider made a sound like a strangled squawk.

As the Raven King emerged from the shadows between the trees (as though he were stepping from a doorway. Striding through and solidifying as though from a dream or some othere where entirely) it was the companion he first met upon the Road who’s eyes landed upon him first -- and those eyes were now blazing,just as bright as the heart of any star.

“My grandson.” He ground out, “Where is he? Speak, and speak quickly.”

[jj-lives]

Inktober - Husky

Day 6 done, on day 12 yay!

A blare of a car horn sounded. Yang jumped and on reflex moved further from the curb. Heart racing she took in her surroundings. A bright red sports car nearly drove into oncoming traffic to get around an older couple at the crosswalk just ahead of her. Tires screeched as smoke billowed up from the burning rubber. Other motorists honked; some going as far as yelling out their open windows to make their disapproval known. The driver ignored it all, continuing down the street at breakneck speeds. 

She would have stayed to help if anyone was injured but since there didn’t seem to be a reason to stay she picked up her pace. She only had an hour to pick up her package from the post and get home before Ruby. Turning the corner her mind was still occupied by the previous scene. In Yang’s distraction her foot caught on something. She barely registered a high pitched whine before self preservation kicked in. Propelling herself forward she tried to bring her feet back underneath her before she crashed to the pavement. What felt like a rope wrapped around her other foot. Unable to do anything Yang prepared for the worst as she was pitched forward, but instead of the hard impact she was expecting her body collided with something softer. 

Another voice cried out in surprise and both Yang and the other toppled to the ground together. Pain laced up her arm as her elbow connected with the sidewalk. Gritting her teeth she forced her eyes open once the worst of the pain subsided. 

"I am so sorry!" She apologized to the stranger below her. She failed in her first and second attempts to stand, realizing quickly that her feet were still tangled in the rope that tripped her in the first place. A groan from the body below her captured Yang's full attention. "Are you hurt?" She tried to make out the others face but it was obscured by both of their hair. 

"Probably," was Yang's answer. "Can you maybe get off me?"

She stared at the girls covered face, not believing her ears.

It couldn't be.

"Blake?" Blake’s body stiffened beneath her, surprised at being recognized. Her hands came up to brush her own hair from her face and Yang’s eyes connected with her golden irises. Yang smiled. “Hey.”

“Yang? What are you doing here?”

“I was-”

“Ugh,” Blake groaned. “Can you get up first? This isn’t as comfortable as you might think. I’m pretty sure I’m laying on a rock.”

“Oh!” Yang tried again. This time using her arms to propel her up instead of her tangled legs.  She knew she was strong enough to do it and she would even have been successful if it weren’t for the damage she’d forgotten her right arm incurred in the fall. With a barely swallowed cry she crashed back down. Yang heard the air rush out of Blake’s lungs when their bodies met once again. “I am so sorry.” Her apology rushed passed gritted teeth. 

“Are you okay?” Blake wheezed, realizing there was a reason Yang hadn’t jumped up right away.

“I knocked my elbow and my legs are tangled in some stupid rope.”

“Well that’s a relief.”

Yang’s body lifted rhythmically as Blake tried to catch her breath.

“I’m glad my pain brings you relief?” 

She tried to free her legs once more but the rope only tightened, trapping her further. Giving up she rolled to the side her back coming to rest on the pavement. If she couldn't get up she could at least give Blake the space she needed to recover.

She stared at the sky for a moment trying to slow her racing heart. Laughter brought her focus back to the girl beside her. 

“I didn’t mean I was glad you were hurt. I meant I was happy to hear the leash was wrapped around your leg.” Blake sat up and was immediately attacked by a massive black and white ball of fluff. Her laughter grew as the dog started licking her face, obviously glad to see she wasn’t injured after being attacked by Yang. Blake pushed to dog aside and it sat obediently. “I was not looking forward to chasing after him if he’d gotten loose.” She finished explaining, smiling down at Yang.

“That makes me feel a little better.”

“Yeah, Rosco is usually pretty good at listening but he’s smart enough to know when he can get away with something. Me being distracted is normally all he needs to take off to do his own thing.” Scratching Rosco’s ear had him tilting his head into Blake’s touch and his tail whipped rhythmically against Yang’s thigh. “Good boy.” 

Yang never thought she would find herself jealous of a dog, but here she was. What she wouldn’t give to be on the receiving end of Blake’s affection.

“Oh! How bad is the elbow?” Blake asked, gaze turning to worry.

“Not horrible. I’ll live.”

“You just enjoy laying on the sidewalk?”

It still surprised Yang to be on the receiving end of Blake’s teasing. It wasn’t as if she didn’t enjoy it. It just felt like there was a familiarity there that Yang was continuously trying to catch up to. She sometimes seemed to be withdrawn as if she didn’t want to be bothered, but other times, like this, she appeared to be completely at ease and comfortable in Yang’s presence.

I would love to get up, but your dog has me captive still.”

Blake’s smile stretched, eyes sparkling. “Let me help then.”

Yang could have sworn she heard Blake whisper another ‘Good boy’ to Rosco as she leaned over to free Yang’s legs from his leash. She wondered if it was for him sitting so patiently or if it was because he tripped her in the first place.

“Can I pet him?” Yang asked once they were both standing?

“Yes. He’s very friendly.”

Rosco’s head was at the perfect height for Yang to pet without having to bend over too far.  He seemed to appreciate her pets almost as much as Blake’s.  When she turned her attention away she felt Rosco shimmy over to lean on her leg while he nuzzled her hand for more scratches.  

“He likes you.”

“What can I say? I’m a very likable person.” 

Blake rolled her eyes but the smile never left her face so Yang took that as a good sign. She seemed to appreciate Yang’s confidence.

“I didn’t know you had a dog.”

“I don’t. He’s my parents.  I’m just looking after him for the weekend. They had business in town but couldn’t find a hotel that would allow him.”

“Did you walk here from your apartment? It’s quite a distance.”

Blake shrugged. “I would rather have gone for a run in the park but I had errands to do and I felt bad leaving him alone.”

“Lucky boy.”

“Why lucky?”

Yang blushed and swallowed the words on the tip of her tongue. Because he gets to spend the day with you.

“Getting that good exercise! I’ve been too busy with classes to make it to the gym lately.”

“Do-” Blake seemed to debate her next words. “Do you want to join us?”

“Umm,” Yang was shocked at the invite.

“I’m almost done with what I have to do and then we were going to head back home.” She explained. “Might stop at the park to let Rosco run a bit.”

“I can’t.”

“Oh.” Disappointment evident in her tone.

“I would love to, really.” Yang was quick to clarify lest she ruin her chances at a second invite. “I just have somewhere I need to be.” She glanced at her watch, disconcerted. “Which I’m going to be late for. Maybe next time?”

“Sounds good. Rosco and I should be on our way as well.” Blake brushed her off, stepping passed her.

“Seriously, next time I’m all yours.” 

“It’s okay. I know you’re busy. I’ll see you around.”

Yang didn’t know how else to salvage the situation.  Blake went from playful and teasing to aloof in the matter of minutes.  

“You and Weiss are still coming over next weekend, right? I’ll see you then if I don’t catch you sooner.”

“Maybe.” Blake responded, still making her escape. “Bye Yang.”

She watched as Blake turned the same corner she rounded before their collision. Rosco’s wagging fan of a tail the last thing she saw before both were completely out of sight.  

Yang’s eyes turned to her feet, head spinning from the sudden change in conversation.  A large pebble caught her eye.  Her glare intensified remembering Blake mentioned she landed on one. Disappointed in herself for not being able to rectify Blake’s sudden sour mood she took her frustration out on the rock. She kicked it and watched it tumble off the curb and come to rest in the middle of the street.  

If it got run over, so much the better. It deserved it anyway.