#but yes placing this here & slinks off to train the pups ]

[lunaetis]

inbox call ! pls specify muse(s) ! length will vary from a paragraph to a few paras. multis pls specify who it's for as well !

[heresathreebee]

The One Where She Got A Dog

Yelena Belova X Reader

Summary: how Yelena became a dog mom Masterlist Part 2

Tags: E | 1.8k words | scary movie, winter, secret pasts, sapphic

AN: Black Widow movie really got me in my feelings about those characters, Yelena in particular. I havent watched The Thing in almost a year please look the other way if movie events are out of order.

Pretty Russian girls are not usually your type, but fuck if you weren't absolutely obsessed with this one. You laughed when she told you she was from Ohio.  She laughed when you said you were too. 

Aquavit and your grandma's biscuit recipe brought her into your cabin on the edge of the world where she admitted to you she had never seen John Carpenter's The Thing before. You turned it on just as the snow storm set in and wrapped up in your thickest blankets with her. You're trying not to get your hopes too high but she's not shy about asking you to scoot closer. 

"Skäl," you cheer just as the ominous opening credits end and they find the mysterious ship in the frozen wasteland of antarctica. 

"Have you ever been?," Yelena asked. 

You grimace at the strong taste of aquavit. It's like vodka but with caraway for 'flavor'. You look at her from the side and poor yourself a second shot. "Been…?" 

"There." She points at the screen. 

"I have actually," you admit in a way you hope is flat and uninteresting, "have you?" 

Yelena shook her head. It's possible she might think you're being sarcastic (you cross your fingers under the blanket and hope she does). She's smiling at you, thinking something (but still watching the screen with interest). 

She drops the subject until you have to pause the movie to pee. You unwrap yourself from the cocoon of blankets and as you stand she asks you another question. 

"What were you doing there? in Antarctica, I mean." 

You sigh and pretend to brush something off of your pants. "Science trip with my parents. Shitty vacation for me I'd rather be in the Bahamas." 

You resist the urge to look at her. After taking care of business, you come back just in time to put the biscuits in the oven. You hear Yelena lean into the kitchen archway as the floors creak immensely here. 

"No timer?," she asked. 

"No timer," you confirm. "I use the timer of my heart." 

Yelena scoffs. "Please don't burn them, I'm curious about these… what are they– pastries?" 

"Something like that." 

The two of you went back to the movie just as the gang on screen is trying to decipher who is human and who is not. You feel like something between you has changed and sadly not for the better. 

But she can't know. 

"I hate this part," you say, making absolutely no move to avert your gaze. 

Yelena is startled when the doctor's arms become trapped in the bear trap belly mouth of the "man" on the table. She quickly covers her eyes and giggles manically, slapping your chest for the vague and unhelpful warning. You realize she's not as close to you as before…

There's 20 minutes left of this movie and you haven't seen a single thing on screen. Yelena stopped asking you questions when you stopped being coherent with your answers. All you can think about is telling her. 

But you can't tell her. She would never understand. You barely understand and it's about you. 

"I lied." Your heart beats in your throat as you see her face you but you can't look at her directly for fear of losing your nerve. "About the science expedition? That's not why I was in Antarctica…" 

Yelena seems to wait for you to continue but… 

"Eh, no offense but, " you gesture with your hand, "I don't really know you like that." 

Yelena gave your reply a single nod. "I suppose that's fair." 

You can't help but fidget in your seat. "Idliketo" 

"What was that?" 

You cleared your throat. "I said… I said I'd like to. Know you like that, I mean…" 

Yelena gives you a smile. "I would like to know you like that, too." 

The movie ends, the biscuits are not burnt but buttery soft and golden brown, and the blizzard outside has subsided some. It's still going but at least it's not buffering the doors and windows like before. 

"How can you watch that film in a place like this?" Yelena cannot get enough of those biscuits, stuffing them in her mouth 2 at a time. "Does it make you paranoid?" 

"Yes it does," you say, putting your coat on, "I think that's what makes it so much scarier–  looking outside and being scared every person you come across ain't who they say they are. Sometimes its not a bad thing though... I think it is rather… poetic, too." 

Yelena's eyebrows furrow. "Where are you going?" 

You put on your boots and hope the duct tape stays on the hole you covered earlier. "Dogs are out in the shed. It's heated and they have food, but not for days and I'd rather have 'em in the house where I can take care of them." 

As you finished your sentence you reached for the door,  but stopped when you noticed Yelena getting dressed too. She gives you a nod as soon as her hood comes up, and you give this brave thing an appreciative once over. 

The snow that nearly all melted before is up to your knees now. Fresh, white, and fluffy. It muffles sound like the world's sidelong turning. The odd snowflake wafts lazily from the sky, but for the most part it's died down. You teach back and take Yelena's gloved hand to keep from staying too far apart. 

"You know I always wanted a dog," she said. She could have said it in a whisper from 100 yards away and you still would have heard her–  that is how eerily quiet it is. 

Yelena squeezes your hand and you squeeze back. She's probably remembering the movie. You try to distract her by saying, "Oh yeah? You can have one of mine then." 

Yelena laughs, then stops. "You serious?" 

"As a heart attack." You finally reach the door to the shed and unlatch the door. A chorus of barks begin and you charge forward to nudge them back to give Yelena space to come in as well. "I do some breeding up here–  just a side job. They're usually working dogs but they can be pets too." 

Buck licks your face from chin to forehead and you push him back. "Down, boy! Show some respect!" 

Yelena has two of the mongrels circling her, sniffing all her clothes and demanding to be pet. "That's Burt, Barney, and Bella. Buck's my stud, but these heathens are going to a farm. They've got sheep to watch." 

Yelena chuckles as her hands get covered in slobber. "I love them." 

They're almost grown, three quarters the height of their father. Buck didn't even look in Yelena's direction because he knows you give him treats. You take your scarf off as the heat of the shed threatens to smother you and search your pockets for jerky.  

"She's in there with the new puppies." You point to a darkened closet. "Don't get too close now, she's still a little protective." 

Yelena creeps closer. You see her look at you from the corner of her eye. Probably terrified by the morphing dog scene from the movie. You give her an encouraging smile and tell her where to find the light. It's a pull cord and it bathes the room in a warm golden yellow light. 

Yelena's heavy, controlled breathing turns into a coo. Mama dog is laying on her side watching the newcomer closely. There's a pup asleep in the nest of her legs, another chewing on the hay that litters the ground, and the last one is biting their mother's ear. Yelena looks back at you with an adorable pout on her lip. 

"So cute…" 

You chuckle and put your arm around her. Buck knows to steer clear of mama dog and slinks off. You make your guest walk closer with you to show mama she's got your confidence. 

"Yelena, this is Beyonce." Mama dog's ears perk at the sound of her name. "Beyonce, this is Yelena. Be nice." 

You reach down and scoop up the hay eating puppy at your feet. "This one's always hungry." 

You put the pup in her arms and scoop up the biter. "This one likes to play. All the time. Got more energy than the blue Energizer bunny actually." 

The pup in question is literally trying to wriggle out of your hands in its eagerness to climb you and eat your hair. 

"And that one sleeps a lot?" Yelena nodded her head at the last pup. 

"Pretty much." You put the writhing excited puppy down before it hurts itself and look up into the rafters. "And then there's the climber…" 

You both turn your heads when you hear a tiny bark. A cute little face stares down at you from the rafters and there's a feather stuck to its nose. You shake your head knowing this pup got it from ripping up pillows in another part of the dog house. 

"Better go get her," you said, not moving an inch to do so.  

Yelena sees your challenge and rises to it. As if trained to do exactly so, she assesses the wooden interior for foot and hand holds. You can see the wheels turning in her head as she calculates what will and won't support her weight. In the sweep of a single moment, she rises from the door and swings herself into the rafters using a build up a momentum to propel her fast in an upperward direction. She completes the climb and balances with ease, reaching out to collect the happy wagging miscreant from her mountain top, tucks her in her jacket and climbs a different way down. 

You stare at her. "Were you raised by trapeze artists?" 

Yelena laughs. "I thought everybody was." 

The pup is safe and happy and eager to explore its new friend. Yelena lets her lick, sniff, and scratch at her skin, her clothes, her hair. The pup catches Yelena with a tiny lick right on the tip of her nose and Yelena looks back at you with adoring eyes. 

You smile. "Got a name for her already don't you?" 

"Yes," Yelena whines, "no, are you sure about this? I should probably tell you I've never had a dog before…" 

"I can tell your good people," you reply. "And smart as a whip. You'll adapt, just call me if you ever need anything." 

~

Three weeks later you get a phone call from an unknown number. It's Yelena giving you an address and making you swear never to tell anybody about it. You don't have any friends so it's an easy secret to keep. 

You drive a few miles south and stumble upon a stationary trailer in the middle of nowhere, nothing but clearings and trees and sky. Actually very similar to your own home. 

The door opens and Yelena greets you with a beer and the pup under her arm, already almost a foot bigger than she was before. 

"Her name is Fanny." You both laugh yourselves hoarse and pile into the trailer to puppy proof the place. 

[jaskiersbow]

Make You Happy

(again, housekeeping and moving things to the new blog. Ignore me!)

Explicit, Warnings: knotting, virgin Jaskier, sex slave Jaskier, a/b/o. Geraskier.

Anonymous asked: Virgin Sex Slave Jaskier to the Wolves. Maybe his first introduction to fucking a Witcher and their MASSIVE cocks after his purchase? Dubcon to oh fuck yes. So, learning about sex, breeding and lots of cum? A/B/O or knots (don't have to be combined) for flavour if you'd like. (age is up to you, but since you didn't mention it, 18+ is perfect.)

Anon, I have to apologize a little here.  I went off script.  I can definitely be talked into writing a follow up where Geralt shares his slave with the other wolves, but I felt like he needed to take what was his first.  Have 2k of sassy Jaskier who has absolutely no idea what he’s getting himself into.  I wrote this picturing him as 18, but didn’t state it so let your mind go wild.

---

The omega is quiet as they walk back to Geralt’s campsite.  How the fuck does he get himself into these situations?  Who wins a sex slave in a game of Gwent?  He honestly hadn’t expected to win that game, but that obviously doesn’t matter now.

“Do you sleep outside all the time?” the omega asks quietly, breaking Geralt out of his thoughts.

“Not all the time, but towns aren’t often kind to me,” Geralt informs him, adding a rushed out “sorry” to the end of it.

“I like the stars” he says with a shrug, “Besides, whatever you want I want.  That’s kind of how this works.”

“Sorry if I’ve never owned a sex slave before,” Geralt scoffs out, cringing when the boy looks a bit heartbroken at that.  He hadn’t asked for this, to be tied to a witcher of all things.  Geralt vows to be a bit nicer if he can help it.

“I just want to make you happy,” the omega mumbles, pouting a bit.  Geralt realizes he never actually got his name, which is probably bad form, but to be fair he was shocked at having won a slave in a card game.

“I’m sure you will.  This is just...a lot to take in. What should I call you?”

“My name is Jaskier, but the ones who trained me called me Pet if that pleases you more?” Jaskier replied.  Geralt thought it over for a moment, decided this was odd enough without adding that element to it.

“So Jaskier, unless you’re an idiot, you’ve noticed I’m a witcher.  Did they train you for that?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

“I was trained to be displayed at court, so no,” Jaskier says, frowning.  “Do I displease you?”

“Not at all,” Geralt rushes out.  “You...you look nice.  I just want to know what you’re ready for.  Alpha witchers can be a bit much.  What did your last owner do with you?”

“My last owner lost me in a card game on my first night with him, so I’m still fresh from training.”

“Fresh as in...virginal?” Geralt asks, his voice cracking over the word.  This is too much.  No matter how sweet and eager the boy seems, there’s no way he’s ready to take a witcher cock.  He’ll have to find a place for him, maybe set him free somewhere nearby.

“Only my ass.  I’ve had lots of practice with my hands and my mouth,” Jaskier says with a saucy wink.  “Sometimes they even let me get myself off afterwards if I was good enough with my mouth.”  Geralt can picture it, the boy taking his tiny omega cock in his own hand and fucking his fist to orgasm.  A shiver runs through him, and he has to push another wave a lust away and focus on setting things straight.

“No use in being modest, but witchers - especially alphas - are more well endowed than most. We might not be a good match,” he says tactfully.

“You don’t want me,” Jaskier sobs out, shooting Geralt a doe-eyed look.

“Look.  I travel alone normally. I’m not good with people. I have wanted nothing more than to fuck that tight little ass since I saw you in that tavern, but I don’t think it’s possible.  I’m not about to hurt you, and you can’t want this,” he waves a hand around at the campsite around them.  No reasonable omega would want to live in the fucking woods and trail a witcher around.  It’s ridiculous.

“Well that’s great, because I’ve thought of little else than you taking me since I saw you.  Now let me show you something and maybe it will change your mind.  Because I’m not about to lose two owners in one day,” Jaskier huffs out before stomping over to his bag.  He roots around for a moment before pulling out a rectangular box.  He kneels down in front of Geralt and presents it to him, grinning up at him.

“What this?” Geralt asks as he opens the lid.  His eyes go wide as he takes in the contents; a set of wooden plugs of various sizes.  The largest is as thick around as he is.  “You’ve taken these?” he asks as his blood rushes south.

“All but the largest.  I’ve not been properly fucked, but they wanted to make sure I was able to be.  They’re also for if my owner wants to...keep me open for them.  I’m made to serve, made to be ready.  Now can we please get to the part where you stick your cock in me?  I’ve been wet since we left town,�� he whines and chews at his lower lip, drawing Geralt’s attention to it.  And there’s no reason to say no, no reason to deny himself this pleasure, so he just nods and sets the box aside before moving to his bedroom.

“Strip. Let me see you,” Geralt orders, his voice lower than normal.  Jaskier smirks at him and makes a show of undoing his doublet and sliding out of his trousers.  He hadn’t lied, Geralt can see the slick on his thighs and it sends a wave of need through him.  Geralt tugs his own clothing off and sinks to his knees.  “Come here, darling,” he whispers.

Jaskier slinks over to him and drops to his knees, hands reaching out as if he’s afraid to touch.  Geralt makes the decision for him, leaning forward and running his own hands down his arms, fingertips reveling in the impossibly soft skin.  He smells so good like this, sweet and cloying like honey and clovers.  Geralt bends down and nips at his skin, right below the black collar wrapped around his neck.  There’s a hoop there, meant to carry his owner’s mark, and Geralt has to bite back a moan when he pictures a silver wolf pendant hanging there.

“Do I please you?” Jaskier asks breathily.  Geralt meets his gaze and realizes the boy is unsure of himself.  He has no idea how much Geralt is fighting the urge to just sink into him, fuck him and take what’s his.  He shivers and runs his hands over Jaskier’s hips before cupping his little omega prick in his hand.  Jaskier cries out and goes limp against him, whining, “no one’s ever…” against his chest.

“Fuck.  No one’s ever touched you like this?” Geralt asks in shock.  Jaskier nods, trembling as Geralt starts to pump his hand, slowly working over his little cock.  He’s red and leaking, just a mess of pre-come, and Geralt just wants to worship him.  For all his training, the omega is falling apart, just shuddering against Geralt as he fucks into his fist.  He’s gorgeous like this, and Geralt can’t fault him his pleasure, just speeds up his hand and watches in awe as Jaskier comes.

“Geralt!” he shouts, nearly sobbing as he spills over Geralt’s hand.  He’s shaking, clearly overwhelmed with it all, and Geralt just works him through it, milking every last bit of come that he can.  Geralt ducks down and noses at his scent gland, drowning in his strong smell.  He’s never smelt an omega this sweet before.  It’s like he was made for him.

“Can I fuck you?” Geralt asks, and Jaskier just laughs at him.

“I’m yours to do what you please with, but if you’re asking if I’d like it, yes.  I very much would,” Jaskier murmurs against the side of his neck.  Geralt can’t wait any longer, just grabs Jaskier by the hips and sets him on his hands and knees.  His thighs are glistening with slick and Geralt has to squeeze the base of his cock to keep his mind clear.

But then Jaskier leans forward so he’s resting on his shoulders and reaches back, grabbing his cheeks and parting them.  He’s fucking <i>presenting</i> like a bitch in heat and it’s too much.  His hole is pink and dripping slick, and Geralt growls and is lining up and sinking into him before he can think about it.  Jaskier whimpers and it goes straight to his dick, throbbing as he slides deeper.

“Fuck, you’re so gods damned tight,” Geralt growls as he gives the omega a moment to get used to the feeling.

“I’m so full,” Jaskier shudders, struggling to get back up on his hands.  He sighs and rocks back, sucking Geralt even deeper into his wet heat.  “Didn’t know it would be like this,” he pants out.

“Didn’t know you’d be perfect.  Like you’re made to take my cock,” Geralt says quickly.  He pulls back and slams his hip home, loving the way the smaller man whimpers and clenches around him.  He’s not going to last long, hasn’t fucked an omega this tight in years.  Every thrust of his hips is sweet agony.

He knows in the back of his mind that he should be going easy on him because it’s his first time, but he just can’t help it.  Jaskier is gushing slick now, the sounds of their joining echoing around them.  His hips move on their own, finding a ruthless rhythm as he plows into Jaskier.  The omega - his omega - is taking it so well, a chorus of breathy gasps and moans flowing from his mouth as Geralt fucks him.

“Please, oh please,” Jaskier whines.  “Am I good?  Can I come when you do?  Am I good for you?” he’s babbling mindlessly, begging for a release that Geralt won’t deny him.  He’s too sweet, too perfect, his hole too hot and tight around him.  For a split second Geralt wishes he could breed him, see his belly round and full with pups, and the thought makes him move faster.

His knot is growing, catching on Jaskier’s abused rim with every slam of his hips.  He leans down, bracketing Jaskier’s body with his own, rutting into him like a man possessed.  There’s a fire burning in his gut and he starts to lose his rhythm, hips stuttering as he chases his release.  He thrusts once, twice more before his knot takes hold and he falls over the edge, emptying his seed inside Jaskier’s sweet little body.

“Come for me,” he hisses.

Jaskier sobs out his name and the scent of his release fills the air.  He gets even tighter, body gripping Geralt’s knot so fucking tight that his eyes roll back and he can’t do anything but grind into him, fucking him with his knot.  It’s rough and sloppy and everything Geralt’s ever wanted.  He scrapes his teeth over Jaskier’s scent gland, a promise of what’s to come, and shoots burst after burst of come into him.

They collapse to the bedroll and Geralt rolls them to their sides.  Jaskier is shaking, whining deep in his chest as he reaches back and clings to Geralt.  “I’ve got you,” Geralt says, voice hushed and rough.  He runs a hand over Jaskier’s belly, pleased to find it bulging just a little.  He wonders how many rounds it would take to make him ache with it.

“Nothing prepared me for this...I didn’t know it would be so good,” Jaskier whispers.  Geralt reaches down and takes him in hand again, tugging him into another orgasm just to feel his hole tighten around him again.  He bites Jaskier’s shoulder as another rush of seed flows into him.  He’s never liked being locked to another, stuck with them for far too long, but he feels like this won’t be long enough.  He wonders if the boy has another round in him tonight; how many times he can make them both come before morning light.

“I think we’ll like travelling together,” Geralt promises him.  Jaskier just shudders and presses back against him in agreement.

[dandelion-vines]

Hello! I love the public bus scene so much, so here's another prompt for it: either Geralt or Jaskier is filming a porn with his people inside the bus while the remaining one of the two just entered the bus and gets pulled in to join them (can have him be unwilling or not)

Something insanely hot about slutty Geralt. Virgin kink, age difference, transmasc jaskier, genitals referred to as clit and cunt, exhibition kink, cunnilingus, handjobs

--

Cold bites at Geralt’s skin as he holds onto the pole of the bus. It’s stupid cold, and his shorts barely cover his ass, much less the length of his legs. It’s a simple enough scene, though, he has to jack off on a bus; he’s done a lot worse, and besides, they’ve rented out the bus entirely.

Or at least, he thought they had till a kid walks up the two steps, confusion written on his face before his eyes train on Geralt with his legs spread widely and a hand shoved down the front of his pants. “Fuck,” he whispers, shock in his eyes as he looks away, “I’ve obviously got the wrong bus, sorry,” he laughs nervously and begins to walk away.

Geralt’s already on his feet. He can feel eyes bore into his back as he walks towards Jaskier, shorts unbuttoned, torso bare. He cups his cheeks as blue eyes stare up at him, and draws him into a kiss. He doesn’t know why, just that this boy is insanely adorable, with his wind-tousled brown hair and silken button down and bashfulness. “Do you wanna stay?” Geralt asks, wrapping an arm around the boy’s face— because he really is a boy, isn’t he? Barely seventeen, probably while Geralt’s nearing thirty eight. It only spurs to turn him on more.

The kid’s lips hinge open and close, and Geralt chuckles at how adorable he is before he draws him into another messy, filthy kiss and begins to unbutton his shirt.

He can hear shuffling behind them, likely lighting and cameras being re-positioned now that he’s towards the front of the bus. “Who are you?” Jaskier asks, letting Geralt rub warm palms up his side and down his front.

“You can call me Wolf, pup. I do porn.” Jaskier blinks up at him and fucking whimpers.

“Yes, Wolf,” the pup replies dutifully. Geralt’s hands go to Jaskier’s jeans, palming between his legs. “I—” he squeezes his thighs together around Geralt’s hand, knees turning inward as his hands slip down to hold Geralt’s wrist. “I’ve never been touched,” he whispers, blushing bright red as Geralt gently thumbs over his clit. “What the fuck am I doing here,” he mutters, nose scrunching up. Geralt can tell that he’s melting into doubt and quickly finishes unbuttoning his pants.

His cunt’s dripping, swollen and flushed and from where Geralt’s been rubbing him through his pants. Geralt falls to his knees in front of him, gently guiding away the boy’s hands when they come to cover himself up. “Wolf— are they recording us?”

“Yeah,” Geralt mutters. He makes sure to arch his back before he leans forward, presses kisses up the kid’s thighs, closer and closer to his weeping cunt. Geralt doesn’t know the last time he’s had a virgin and the thought that the pup’s untouched, all for him, makes him feel heady. A hesitant hand gently settles sweetly in Geralt’s hair, and he smiles into the kid’s inner thigh. He generally hates having his hair pulled, and the gentle patting has him melting into the kid’s touch.

He uses the tip of his tongue trace the lips of the boy’s pussy, listening to his breath hitch. “Wolf,” he sighs, looking ahead of him and at the cameras. The kid looks fucking debauched, flushed and pink, his shirt’s half unbuttoned to show off the thick hair on his chest and the way his pants and boxers are shoved down to his knees. He makes such a pretty sight that Geralt knows he’ll be jacking off to this for fucking months.

Geralt licks up the pup’s pussy, tongue broad as Jaskier moans when his tongue catches on his clit. Fingers keep petting through Geralt’s hair as if comforting him; he smiles into the kid’s skin. Truly, he’s just too sweet, Geralt almost can’t take it.

He picks up his pace, flicking his tongue and lapping between folds as Jaskier’s legs shake and he simply holds on. The boy sobs as Geralt’s tongue circles his clit, on the brink of overstimulation as he works in a single finger into his cunt.

“Wolf, please,” he whines, inanely cute as he tries to squeeze his legs together. He’s close, Geralt can tell. He stops before the kid cums and gets back to his feet.

“What’s your name?” Geralt’s voice is rough, as if he’s been the one licked senseless— gods, what’s this kid doing to him?

“Jaskier. Will— will you—”

“Jaskier.” Geralt smiles, looking at the stuttering mess of a boy in front of him. “Do you want to cum, boy?” Geralt towers over him despite them being nearly the same height. Jaskier nods, licking his lip. And Geralt grins, wolfish. He takes the boy’s hand and places it on his own dick, sighing at the warmth of his skin. “Care to get me off, then?”

The boy’s hand is hesitant, exploring and curious as his fingers brush up the side of his cock and thumb over his pink, dripping cockhead that peeks up the waistband of his shorts. “That’s good,” Geralt praises, “my good boy, aren’t you?” Jaskier sinks to his knees, blue eyes peering up at Geralt.

“Your good boy,” he echoes, nervously biting his lip. He eases Geralt’s cock out of its confines, eyes widening marginally at the size of it before he grows adorably determined. His hand barely fits over the width of his dick as he smooths down the ridiculous amount of precum that’s dripped.

Geralt groans at the tight, wet heat of his hand as Jaskier explores, tracing veins with the pads of his fingers and trails a light brush all the way down to his balls. He starts stroking then, looking back up at Geralt to gauge his reaction, and grins so fucking brightly when he sees Geralt’s face twisted in pleasure. Geralt finds himself wanting to see that smile till the end of time.

His hand slips between his own legs, playing with his cunt as he builds up rhythm with Geralt’s cock. It’s the hottest fucking thing Geralt’s ever seen. He’s so fucking close, hasn’t been on edge since he was a decade younger and when Jaskier presses a shy kiss to his cockhead, Geralt cums with a shout.

Jaskier gasps as cum lands on his face, and Geralt uses the half a mind he’s got left to grunt at him to close his eyes before he’s fisting his cock desperately and squeezing out every bit of cum from himself and dripping it over the boy’s face.

“Fuck, he grunts. When’s the last time he’d cum so hard he couldn’t breathe. A quiet tug to his shorts pulls him out of his thoughts; Jaskier holds the fabric in a loose grip, one eye squinting up at him as cum drips down his face. Geralt swears again, and sees to getting he face cleaned up with a cloth. As hot as it is to see the boy wearing his cum, he knows that this is the kid’s first time and wants to make it as pleasant as he can for him. By personal experience, Geralt knows that getting semen into your eyes is absolutely no fun.

“You did so good, kid,” Geralt mutters, pressing a kiss to Jaskier’s head when he’s all clean. “Do you want your reward now? For being such a good boy for me?” Jaskier blushes red as he looks past Geralt’s shoulder and at the camera and directing crew, as if he’s really realizing for the first time that he’s having his virginity taken in front of other people by a fucking porn star. He turns back to Geralt, so adorably embarrassed but nods yes anyway.

His knees are pink when he stands, and Geralt’s palms return to his sides as backs him up against a wall of the bus. “I’m going to get you off with my fingers, is that alright?” Jaskier nods, too far gone for words.

It’s stupid easy to get him off; he cries out when Geralt touches him again, fingers digging into Geralt’s arm. One of his hands trails to grip Geralt’s wrist again, to keep it in place as Geralt fingers his weeping cunt and plays with is clit. He squeezes his knees together as he cums, eyes squeezing shut as he tenses and shakes through his orgasm— Geralt works him through it until his little clit is too sensitive to the touch.

“Wolf,” he stutters out, and falls into Geralt’s arms when he tries to take a step. The cameras cut from behind them, the crew beginning to pack up.

“Where were you going, Jaskier?” Geralt asks him, sitting them both down on a seat. The boy’s still shaking slightly, curling into Geralt’s chest from where he’s rested in his lap.

“Home,” he whispers. One of his hands slink back between his legs, and he buries his head into Geralt’s neck in embarrassment as he touches himself again. Insatiable, but then again, Geralt remembers being seventeen.

Geralt eases his hand away and starts stroking his clit between his thumb and forefinger, casual as Jaskier shudders and tucks himself closer.

“Do you want me to take you, pup?”

Blue eyes peer up at him, legs squeezing together.

“Y-yeah.”

[yungidreamer]

Claimed

Summary: An intruder enters the territory of Chan and his pack, attacking people and causing havoc. Seemingly by chance he saves a victim that turns out to be his mate, but as fate would have it, he happens to be a wolf at the time. How will he protect her, come clean, and claim his mate?

Word count: 8.2k

Content warnings: slightly dark themes, a werewolf serial killer who is a vindictive asshole, impregnation kink, marking, minor descriptions of violence, sort of stalking, sort of possessive behavior. Some cursing.

Music: Come Out by Lenise Morales and War of Hearts by Ruelle

“Come on, boy,” she said, patting her leg and holding out the leash. “Let’s go on a walk before it gets too late.” Chan hopped up off his round dog bed near the couch, wagging his tail as he came to her. He sat patiently, turning his head to let her reach the leather collar she had put on his neck. Jesus, his pack mates would be in hysterics if they saw him like this, he thought to himself. But he could have endured the embarrassment for her.

How had he ended up like this? Really, it was a mix of destiny and bad luck on  both of their parts. He honestly never thought he would meet his mate when he was in his wolf form and hurt on top of it. Fights weren’t something he got into that often and something he avoided when he could, but that night three months ago he had caught that piece of shit lone wolf stalking her.

Why the loner had picked her, he had no idea, but Chan had to be grateful in some ways. How long would it have been before he ran across her if not for that? Jesus, what if he had gotten there too late? He didn’t want to think about it.

That night he had been sent to track the interloper that had been causing havoc in their territory. He was the first of the pack to actually find him, which must have been luck since Minho was generally the best tracker and Changbin a close second. They had taken the two days before and barely missed catching him at the no-tell motel he had been staying at and at some restaurant where he had mauled some poor woman heading home after her shift. Changbin had been furious with himself for not tracking him fast enough and had been the one to find her bloodied and crying near the back door of the restaurant. He had shifted back to human and called 911, telling them he had been passing by when he heard her crying, a plausible enough story not to raise any suspicion. Besides as far as anyone involved knew, it was a rabid dog attack… a massive rabid dog.

Tracking was exhausting work and got shared amongst all the members of the pack. The third night had been his job and he had taken a neighborhood near the one he had been stalking, suspecting he had moved his hunting grounds but not that far. His hunch had been right, but it was pure luck that he had come across the scent of the intruder as he patrolled, just hoping to catch some hint, some clue.

That whiff had pulled him down an alley and into the strip mall parking lot of the craft store. For the life of him, he could not figure out why on earth he would pick this sort of place. The parking lot was half empty since most of the stores were already closed… except the big hobby shop. The sodium orange lights of the parking lot had flickered and buzzed, bothering his sensitive senses and it must have done the same for the lone wolf… so why on earth would he choose to hunt here.

Chan had spotted him, in human form, leaning casually on a planter half a dozen meters from the entrance to the store taking a drag on a hand rolled cigarette. He had let out an involuntary huffing sneeze, hating the smell as it drifted to him. That had given him away. Even if he hadn’t been able to sense that he was a fellow werewolf, no dog would have been wandering around alone in a parking lot here, like this, at this hour.

“I’m surprised you found me, rover,” the loner had chuckled, self-satisfied and amused. “I would have let you guys be, but you couldn’t just let me hunt a little.” Chan had growled as he watched him stand up, letting the shadows and flickering lights obscure his face as he pulled himself into a standing position. He had moved fast, charging at Chan and drawing a knife just before he got within an arm's length of him. Chan dodged but not fast enough, and the knife caught him in the ribs, grazing over a couple of them before he could dig his teeth into the man’s arm.

“Fuck,” the man yelled, punching Chan in the jaw to force him to let go. Stars sparkled in his vision and pain sliced through him as the knife slid along his collarbone and upper leg. He had gotten one last swipe in before retreating, leaving Chan bloodied and limping.

A safe place to shift was what he had needed, there surely would have been someplace nearby, a little alcove or alley between a couple of the shops, but before he could get very far, she had stepped out of the store, locking up and leaving for the night.  Chan froze. He had been slinking away, slowly trying to get out of view, but was still very clearly in view when she had stepped out. His pain had blinded him to other sensations at first, but even before she turned and saw him, it hit him like a freight train.

Mine the sensation said with a ferocity he had never felt before. Why he had to find his mate like this, he had no idea. He wasn’t particularly unlucky. He didn’t spend tons of time as a wolf either. His pack was pretty chill and was pretty careful to stay below the radar. Their territory was safe and they were known for not being overly territorial, letting people pass through without a problem so long as they left and didn’t make problems. So how he ran across her while he was shifted and injured was just stupidly bad luck.

She had gasped when she finally turned around and saw him, but who wouldn’t when they turned around to see a massive dog behind them limping and bleeding. A moment’s fear had shot through her at the sight until Chan had whimpered, flattening himself on the pavement to look as unthreatening as possible.

“Hey puppy,” she said softly, putting out her hand for him to sniff as she leaned down, slowly coming closer. “Can I take a look at you?”

Yes please, he thought, rolling gently onto his uninjured side.

“What on earth happened to you… boy?” She asked, catching sight of his belly. “I don’t suppose you are going to make this easy on me and would just get in my car if I brought it around?” She sighed and patted his head. Rubbing his head into her hand, he rolled back over and pulled himself up to stand again. “Maybe you can just come with me, hmmm?” Standing up, she started to move towards her car, keeping an eye on him as he slowly limped behind her. She opened the back door to her car and patted the seat, inviting him to hop in, which he did quite happily. “Well at least that was easy.” She observed, closing the door behind him as he laid down on the back seat. “Now we just have to go spend my whole paycheck at the emergency vets.”

Sorry, he said to her in his head. I’ll pay you back when I can. Pain pulsed through him as the city lights swished over him in the back seat. The emergency vet clinic was only a half an hour away but that was way longer than he would have ever wanted to have to lay bleeding in the backseat of a car. In fact, he really was sure he could have gone his whole damn life without knowing what that felt like.

He was tough, he was the alpha of the group, though he didn’t enforce a hard hierarchy like some did. They were more family than anything else. They looked out for each other, did their part, contributed in any way that they could. It worked well for them and everyone was pretty happy with the arrangement. It was just his job to be the final voice when decisions needed to be made or to speak for the group when dealing with outsiders.

“Can you get up, pup?” She asked when she opened the door in the parking lot of the vet’s office. Chan nodded, though it probably didn’t look like it, what with being a dog and all, and stood up on slightly shaky limbs. Thank god they were close, he thought to himself as he stepped out the door and onto the pavement.

“I need some help please,” she said as they stepped through the automatic sliding door of the clinic.

“Oh my god,” the woman behind the counter said when she caught sight of him, picking up the phone on the desk and hitting a couple of buttons. “Doctor West we need you in reception now please, and bring whoever is back there to help.” She hung up the phone and dashed out from behind the desk. “What on earth happened?”

“I don’t know,” she said looking down at Chan as she kept a hand on his head. “I was just coming out of work and found him like this in the parking lot. Maybe he got cut getting out of a yard or went through a window or something?”

The receptionist had shrugged, it seemed like as good an explanation as any. They had taken him back, stitched him up and scanned him for an ID chip, which, shocker, he didn’t have. With no one else seemingly accountable for him, she had decided to take him home, saying she would try and find his owners. For now, she would pay for the vet bills and she just had to hope whoever owned him would pay her back. Though honestly, given the shape he was in, she wasn’t holding out hope there was someone, or at least someone responsible.

That was how he had ended up here and stuck in his canine form way more than he was used to. The one upside was that he was with her. She had spent a couple of weeks hanging up posters with his picture, but eventually just decided to adopt him herself, leaving him in the weirdest bind he could imagine.

The first few days he had stayed just because everything hurt too much to do anything else. I’ll change back soon, he told himself, I just need the stitches to heal a little first. Then one evening when she came home he could smell him and cigarettes on her and his heart had clenched. The loner had been there for her? For his mate? At that moment, that realization he had a feeling he never would have thought possible. Thank god I was the one that got stabbed. That had settled it. He had to be there, he had to stay and protect her, at least until the intruder was caught.

Not long after that he had shifted when she was off at work, finally getting in touch with his pack. After the understandable chewing out he let Jisung give him since he had basically disappeared without a word for DAYS, he explained what had happened and told him to pick someone to shadow her while she was out or at work. Jisung agreed, letting out a low whistle at the story and the news that he had found his mate. Chan left the details to him and the others, still not feeling even 50% if he had to be honest. He trusted them and for now, he was stuck.

Now it had been three months and the loner was still on the loose and still in their territory. They had no idea why and he had only attacked one person since that night. Now and again, when she came home from work, he would smell him on her, and still other times, he would catch the smell of the loner when they walked through the neighborhood. But it was never enough, never that fresh, and he had no idea how he was flitting around so close yet so far.

Jisung had the brilliant idea of getting one of them hired to work with her at the craft store. Chan had to admit, it had been a good idea, it kept someone close, but it probably wouldn’t have been the solution he would have wanted. Smelling Changbin on her every night when she came home from work rankled him an unbelievable amount, despite the fact that he knew nothing was happening with them. But between smelling his pack mate and the loner on her, and being unable to do anything with her aside from pretending to be her pet was going to drive him mad.

How on earth was he supposed to tell her who he really was? Buck also couldn’t just disappear. And yes, she had named him after the dog in Call of the Wild which was both adorable and painful. She was attached to him...just the wrong him. He needed to come clean but, aside from breaking to her that werewolves existed at all, something that would most likely freak her out, saying, surprise (!) you know that dog you’ve been letting sleep in your bed and changing in front of… well, he’s actually a guy. Because, you know, that would go over really well.

So that was how he ended up on the end of her leash, heading out for a walk. If he didn’t have to do this as a dog and have to make a show of going to the bathroom on these walks, he would be far happier. It was nice being out with her, he just wanted to be able to do it as a person, maybe holding her hand, though he might have tolerated a collar and leash if she really liked it for some reason.

Chan walked ahead of her, scenting the air as they made their evening loop of the neighborhood. All seemed well and normal for the most part, at least for the first half of the walk. But as they made the turn that would head them back towards home the scent of the loner drifted across their path. Chan stopped, causing her to bump into him and make a little sound of surprise as she accidentally stepped on one of his back feet.

“What’s the matter, Buck?” She asked, looking in the direction he was looking. “Did you see something?” Unsurprisingly, he didn’t answer and, after pausing for a few seconds, she moved past him, trying to snap him into moving again. Chan stepped in front of her, preventing her from going as he tried to place where the scent was coming from. “Come on, boy, I want to go home.”

I know, he said mentally, willing for her to understand him. Trust me, me too. Suddenly he saw it, the shape of another of his kind skulking on the other side of a cinder block wall. It’s dark chestnut fur moved slightly in the breeze as the animal stayed stock still. In a split second, it dashed back behind the wall and Chan gave chase. He pulled his leash out of her hand, sending a mental apology to her, and immediately gave chase. He couldn’t let this just keep going on. She called out his name, well the name she had given him, as he disappeared behind the wall, giving chase.

Quick as a flash, he saw the tail disappear around the back of the house on the other side of the block wall. He skidded around the corner, keeping the scent trail of the intruder under his nose. The chase led him through alleys and back yards as they ran and dodged. Finally he saw him disappear over a high fence and Chan lept after him, feeling like he was finally gaining on him.

When he landed he heard a snap and knew immediately that he had made a mistake. A sharp pain shot through his front leg. It had all been a plan, been a trap to get him here, to get him trapped… and to leave her alone. He had never really felt as stupid as he did right now. He finally gathered the will to look down at his leg to see it clasped in a leg hold trap, cut and bleeding, but thankfully not broken, probably by sheer luck. He couldn’t run like this and he had to get back to her.

With a gulp, he changed back, needing the dexterity of human hands to get out of the contraption. It pinched harder, stinging his nerves as his leg turned into an arm, thickening in the vice like grip. It took him a moment to stop seeing stars and then another to figure out how to press down the sides of the trap to open it. When he was finally free, he looked around. He had to get out but running around naked and bleeding was a great way to get the cops called on him.

Making his way to the edge of the neighboring yard, he looked over the wall to see laundry hanging on a line outside. He hopped over the wall and took a t-shirt and some pants, promising to try to remember to bring them back when he could. Once he was dressed, he ran. He ran towards where he had left her; ran like his life depended on it. Ran because hers probably did. His feet barely touched the ground as he rushed back to where he had left her.

Suddenly he heard a scream rend the air and he felt his whole body go cold. So stupid, he berated himself as he willed his body to move faster. Turning the corner a couple of blocks from where he had left her alone, he saw her… and him. The loner had cornered her against a fence in the front yard of some house, a hand around her throat and a knife pressed against her ribs. Without a second thought, Chan rushed forward with a guttural growl. The loner heard him and turned. Momentarily distracted from her, he didn’t notice when she jerked herself down, loosening his grip enough on her neck to fall in the direction opposite the knife he held on her. With his attention torn between two people now, Chan had the upper hand and wrestled him away from her.

“Run,” Chan commanded her as he tackled the loner to the ground. They rolled and grappled like gladiators, vying for dominance, both ignoring her. Something that turned out to be a mistake on the part of the loner. Just as he rolled on top, pinning Chan by gripping his injured arm, she rushed toward them, picking up the dropped knife and driving it into his back. The loner let out a rage filled scream and rolled away from them both as he changed back into his wolf form. Running away as quickly as he could manage and disappearing into the neighborhood.

“Are you okay,” Chan asked, getting up and grasping her upper arms. Her face was a mask of shock, eyes wide and not really seeing anything. “Look at me. Tell me that you are okay.”

“I have to find my dog,” she said, her eyes flashing around them, yet she didn’t pull away. “I think he tried to chase that thing away. He ran off and I need to make sure he’s okay… he was already hurt and…”

“I’m okay,” Chan said to her, giving her a little shake to get her attention. “I’m Buck. You found me in a parking lot and saved me. It’s me.” Her eyes snapped to his face and she went white. “I was following him that night, trying to figure why he was here. That’s how I got hurt, but that’s how I found you.”

“You were looking for me, too?” She shrank back, her eyes searching for something in his face.

“No, but,” Chan sighed. He needed to come clean but this wasn’t the place. Not in the open, not in someone else’s yard. “Let’s go home. Please. Can we talk there?”

“Home?” She asked, looking at him suspiciously.

“Your home,” he corrected. “Just, let me explain. Give me a chance.”

She looked down at the arms that were holding her, finally noticing his cut arm. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s not that bad,” he let go of her arms, trying to hide his injury a little.

“Let me take care of it,” she offered timidly. “Then we can talk.” Chan let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. With a nod he led them both back to the house, keeping a gentle hand on her wrist as they walked. He needed the assurance that she was there, that she was safe.

She followed, letting him take the lead, slightly unsettled by how well he knew the way to her house. Part of her still didn’t believe him. But then again, she had just seen a man change into a dog or… wolf maybe, and she couldn’t explain that. She had never seen him before and yet he knew her dog, he knew where she lived, he had saved her. She wasn’t 100% sure, but something told her to trust him.

When they got to her house, she let them in and Chan pulled her inside, locking the door behind them before tucking her behind him as he scanned the room and tested the air inside the house for anything amiss. When he was satisfied that it was safe, he stepped further into the living room and headed towards the bathroom to care for his arm. He really knows where everything is, she thought as she watched him head there without hesitation. Stepping up to the sink he started running warm water, dipping his arm under the spigot to rinse it. He hissed as the water hit the wound, a tingling pain shooting outwards from it.

“Here,” she stepped up beside him, dampening her hands and lathering them so she could gently wash his wound. Chan sucked in a breath between his teeth at the sting. “Sorry,” she said softly.

“No, it’s okay,” he assured her. “I appreciate you helping me. I owe you my life twice over now.”

“Seems like both times it was because of me anyway so…” she didn’t meet his eyes, focusing on what her hands were doing.

“It’s not your fault,” Chan soothed. “We should have gotten him out of here long ago. He just… he keeps slipping away.”

“So what are you?” She asked as she patted his skin dry with a towel. 

“Werewolf,” he replied softly. “But I won’t hurt you.”

She nodded and pulled some gauze and tape out of the cabinet behind her. Kneeling down in front of him as he sat on the toilet, she spread some anti-infection cream over one of the wounds before putting gauze over it and taping it down. She did the same with the other side, then wrapped both with a sports wrap to keep it secure on his arm.

“What’s your name?” She asked, finally looking up at him.

“Chan,” he replied gently, reaching out to cup her cheek. “My name is Chan.”

“That fits better than Buck,” she gave him a nervous smile and laugh.

“God I love hearing my name on your lips,” he admitted. He leaned forward hesitantly, giving her a chance to pull away, taking her lips with a gentle firmness. She tasted like heaven, even better than he had dreamed those nights when he lay beside her in bed pretending to be her pet.

What am I doing, she asked herself, feeling a fuzzy, intoxication filling her brain as his lips pressed against hers. His tongue darted out against her bottom lip, begging her to open to him. Why did he taste so good, she wondered as she shivered under his touch. He was hardly the first guy she had kissed but he felt different and she didn’t understand it. She didn’t know him at all, despite the fact he seemed to have been living in her house for months.

“Love, I… I need,” Chan pulled back and stepped away from her. “We need to talk.”

“Sorry,” she leaned back, not meeting his eyes, wiping her lips to try and erase the distracting sensations.

“No, don’t apologize,” he soothed, reaching out to her. “I just need—” he broke off. “I need you to understand.”

“What do I need to understand?” she asked him, frustration coursing through her.

“You’re mine,” he said, taking her face in his hands. “I knew it the moment I saw you that you were supposed to be mine. I protect what’s mine. But I need you to choose me. I can wait. I can send someone else to stay here and protect you. Just… I need it to be your choice because once I have you. I’m not letting you go.”

She should have been afraid, she should have made him leave and run as far as she could as fast as she could. But something in her trusted him. No that wasn’t strong enough. Something said he was right, they were a part of each other.

“Okay,” she nodded as much as she could, still restricted by his hands on her face.

“What?” He asked, his eyes searching hers, trying to divine what she was saying.

“I understand,” Her hands came up to loosely grip his wrists, guiding his hands down from her face. She leaned forward, bringing her lips to his.

“Wait,” Chan took a step back, having to use all his willpower to do so. “You’re sure?” She nodded and his will broke. It had taken so much of him to pull away, to do the right thing. He hadn’t expected her to accept him and what he was. With a desperate hunger, he smashed his lips into hers as he lifted her and carried her to the bedroom. He already knew the place well enough he didn’t have to take his lips from hers as he took them both to her room. He tossed her onto the bed and crawled in over her, pressing her into the mattress with his body. He was pure muscle as he pressed himself against her, she could feel it even through the odd mismatched clothing he was still wearing.

“Chan,” she breathed when he shifted to kiss along her cheek.

“Say it again,” he groaned, grinding himself against her. “Say my name.”

“Chan,” her hand tangled in his hair, holding him close. He pulled back, only long enough to strip off the shirt and to slip the borrowed jeans off his hips. He covered her still clothed body with his, drawing her arms around his neck. She moaned underneath him, parting her thighs to let him settle between them.

“I think I’m a little overdressed,” she pointed out.

“I can fix that,” he grinned, rolling them both over. With hurried hands he pulled off her shirt and unhooked her bra before sliding it off her arms and tossing it across the room. His pupils widened as he took in her bare breasts. They looked soft and inviting and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out to cup them. She giggled and covered his hands with hers. Sliding backwards off him, she unfastened her jeans and stepped out of them.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Chan propped himself up on his elbows and took all of her in with his gaze. Her hands lifted to cover herself and he sat up, grabbing her wrists to stop her. “Don’t hide…” he blushed slightly as he admitted it, “You’re so beautiful.” He pulled her down to straddle him, running his hand over her waist and thighs.

She leaned down, bringing her lips to his as his hands wandered over her body. He had thought about this moment for months. Being so near her and having her not notice him, not see him had been killing him. So close, yet so far. Every night when she changed for bed, he had done his best not to stare as she stripped and put on her pajamas, only peeking a few times. Everytime she wrapped her arms around him and cuddled into his fur as she went to sleep. He had wanted to change, to confess, to throw himself on her.

Now he had her holding him as his human hands wandered over her soft curves and it was even better than he had dreamed. She smelled like heaven. Like the forest in summer and fields of wildflowers. He wanted to take her in every way possible. Kissing along the side of her neck, he buried his face in her shoulder, pressing her body against his tightly. He wanted to taste her, to feel her flesh in his mouth, to see if she tasted as sweet as she smelled.

He knew why. It wasn’t that he wanted to eat her. The bite would mark her as his to any other wolf that might cross her path. It would meld them together according to their customs and the rules of the pack. The mark would claim her as his alone and give her the protection of the pack.

Breathing deeply, he fought the urge. He needed to do this right. I’m not an animal, he reminded himself, rolling over and moving them both to the center of the bed. Her pleasure had to come first.

“Close your eyes,” he commanded softly. “I just want you to feel me.” She looked into his eyes for a second before nodding and closing her eyes as she laid on the bed beside him. Kissing her lips, he tasted her with a slow and lazy sense of leisure, reminding them both they had all night. He licked and nibbled at her lower lip, letting out an involuntary whine as he asked her to open to him. She parted her lips and let him in, still allowing him to set the pace, to guide her. His tongue thrust into her mouth with a hungry confidence. He devoured her like a sweet dessert, enjoying her taste with a slow deliberation. As he did, one hand played lightly over her chest and collarbone. His touch was as light a feather, teasing her with the contrast of sensations.

Leaving her lips, he slid himself down her body, dragging his lips and tongue over her neck to the center of her chest. He could hear her heart beating under her delicate rib cage, fluttering like a wounded bird. The sound stirred the animal inside him. Was she afraid? Her scent tickled his nose telling him that she was mostly aroused but underneath it was a faint sliver of fear. It wasn’t a fear of him, or at least not a real fear of him. It was the type of fear that makes a rollercoaster fun or that tickles your stomach when you stand near the precipice of a mountain and take in the wonder of the view. That frisson of a potential danger that was entirely unlikely, but not impossible. Looking up her body, he saw her bite her lip in anticipation of… something, of him.

He slid between her legs and moved lower on her body. He kissed and nipped at the flesh of her belly; so soft and vulnerable. The wolf in him loved that she trusted his teeth there. His wolf could have ripped that flesh with such ease and the fact that she trusted him like this made pleasure rippled through him. Moving lower, he settled himself between her thighs, lifting her legs to rest on his shoulders.

“Can I taste you?” He asked, nuzzling against her inner thigh.

“Yes,” she nodded, squeezing her eyes tightly as her hands fisted around the blanket beneath her.

“Show me what you like,” he instructed, licking a line up the slit of her body. “Let me know how to please you.” She nodded, her hands fidgeting with anticipation. “Baby girl, you can look at me now.”

Opening her eyes, she looked down the line of her body to see his hungry eyes fixed on her. Chan’s hand reached up to take hers as he held her hips down with the other, keeping eye contact as he made a testing thrust of his tongue into her. She gasped and squeezed his hand. Satisfaction settled in his chest and he threw himself into pleasing her as he read her body. He licked and nipped and sucked at her until she came apart underneath him with a strangled cry. She was beautiful and he had never felt as powerful as he did in that moment.

He needed to take her, to fill her with his seed until he was sure she would bare his child. An image of her, round with child, floated through his mind. Yes, the wolf inside him growled, take her. Chan slid up her body and positioned himself at her entrance as he pulled her into a kiss. She could taste herself on him as he stole her breath.

“Are you ready for me, baby girl?” He asked, brushing hair off her face.

“Yes,” she nodded, eyes hazy as she looked up at him. “Please, I want you in me.”

“I would give you anything you asked for,” He admitted, coaxing her thighs around his hips. “Have you… done this before?”

“Yeah,” she assured him. “Don’t worry.”

“Okay,” he nodded, a little relieved he wouldn’t have to hold back. Holding her face in his hands, he looked into her eyes as he curled his hips into hers with a slow deliberation. He watched as her face filled with wonder at the feel of his invasion. When he was finally seated fully inside her, he paused, taking a moment to enjoy the way her body stretched to accommodate him. It was like she was built to hold him.

“Can I move?” He asked softly, running the pad of his thumb over her cheek.

“God, yes, please,” she nodded, digging her nails into the skin and muscles of his back. Smiling down at her and keeping eye contact, he pulled himself half way out before thrusting back inside her. She sighed at the delicious friction. His body felt so good inside her, felt like it belonged, or perhaps that they were becoming a part of each other. Chan moved slowly, relishing this moment. She shivered, her hands grasping at his wide shoulders as he moved.

“Please,” she said again. “I need more.”

“Anything for you,” he soothed, placing a few kisses across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. He pulled his hips back and plunged inside her, going as deeply as he could. Setting a steady rhythm, Chan buried his face in her neck as he began to let go and lose himself in the feeling. She filled every sense of his. Her smell, her feel, and the taste of her skin under his lips. Even her pants and moans filled him as they teased his ears in the quiet of the room. Her limbs held him close, gripping him like he was the only thing keeping her from falling. 

Pleasure rose inside him and he knew there was only so long he would last like this. He wanted to feel her come around him, feel her body milk him as she came beneath his touch again. Her heels hooked around the back of his thighs as she arched against him. The slight change in angle let him brush the sensitive spot inside her, making her quiver and gasp.

“Harder, there,” she begged, a desperation growing inside her.

“Are you close,” he questioned, his face tucked in against her neck.

“So close,” she whimpered, her nails raking his spine.

“Cum for me, baby girl,” Chan panted. “I need to hear you cum.” She whined and moved restlessly against him as the warm pleasure pooled in her stomach. He put his lips to the thrumming pulse of her throat.

“Chan,” her voice was barely a whisper when the knot of delight finally snapped inside her. As her body gripped him, he bit the flesh where her neck and shoulders met marking her as his. The shock of pain melded with her orgasm sending a cascade of sensations through her. With a final thrust he came inside her, filling her body with his emissions. He stayed like that until he felt her move restlessly beneath him and only then, reluctantly pulled out and moved to curl up beside her on the bed.

Her hand went to the bite on her neck. It still stung slightly but not nearly as much as she thought it should. Chan splayed a hand over her stomach, rubbing it in small circles.

“Are… are you okay,” he asked, looking at her lovingly as he laid beside her.

“Yes,” she nodded, taking her hand from her neck. “I didn’t expect you to bite me.”

“Just this once,” he promised, pulling himself closer to her. “It marks you as mine, gives you the protection of my pack. You’ll carry a little of my scent now.”

“Oh,” she blushed and looked at him. “Am I supposed to feel different? I don’t feel any different.”

“No,” he chuckled and smiled at her. “It’s something only my kind would notice.” She nodded and laced her fingers with his where they laid on her stomach.

“Did you do it so that he, whoever he is, would know?” She questioned. “Was this all just to, I don’t know, put him off?”

“No, although I would be happy if it did,” He gave her an adoring look. “This was because you were meant to be mine. Meant to be the mother of my babies; to be by my side for as long as we live.”

“So you want children,” she laughed.

“I want to see you filled with my child,” he admitted, his eyes going to where his hand lay on her. “I want to see it grow inside you. I want to raise it with you, watch it grow into someone as beautiful as you are.”

“Someday,” she nodded. “But I’ve been on birth control, so I don’t think we could just yet.”

“The bond,” he explained. “When I claimed you with my mark, it sort of…” he paused, searching for the right wording. “It opens you to me.”

“Oh,” she blinked at him a few times, trying to process what he was saying. “Even if we just… this one time?”

“Maybe,” he furrowed his brow slightly. “If  you don’t want, at least not yet,” sitting up, he moved to help her walk to the bathroom. “We can try to clean you out, maybe prevent it.”

“No, it’s just a lot to adjust to,”  she explained. “A lot has sort of happened since this morning.”

“I know, baby girl,” he laid down again and pulled her into a spooning position against him. “Let’s go to sleep for now and figure out the rest in the morning.”

Over the next few days neither of them left the house. She called in sick to work, not wanting to put either of them in danger by going out to a place he could so easily find and potentially corner her. Even with Changbin there, with so many people and such a big space, it would be possible to miss him, or at the very least, to not notice him until it was too late. Instead his pack mates came over to plan their next move. Chan spent most of his time planning with Minho and Changbin, setting patrol schedules and scout missions for everyone. Hyunjin was assigned the duty to investigate at the hotel and talk to the woman who had been mauled. Maybe it wasn’t a random coincidence that he had picked her, Felix had suggested after their second meeting. After all, if he was just looking to hurt people and just stir up trouble here, why target her? Sure it could have been a coincidence if he had just been foiled and chosen another target, but he hadn’t.

The suggestion had made Chan go cold. It made sense, but what had made him target her? There wasn’t something particularly special about her, except that she was his mate, but even he hadn’t known that yet. Was it possible the loner had some way of knowing even before Chan did? As far as they knew, it wasn’t possible to know but, still the thought lingered.

As the meeting was drawing to a close, Chan’s phone rang. Hyunjin was calling him from the hospital where he had gone to talk to the other victim.

“Chan?” There was a slight edge of panic to Hyunjin’s voice as he spoke.

“What’s the matter?” Chan asked the other boy, worried immediately by his tone.

“She’s… she’s my mate,” Hyunjin whispered into the phone.

“What?” Chan had a sudden sinking feeling in his chest. He stood up, needing to see his mate, to touch her and know that she was there and fine. He found her sitting at the table in the kitchen, snacking on something as she read.

“I’ve never met her before,” Hyunjin started to explain. “But I felt it the moment I walked into her room. She was just lying there, still sleeping, so hurt, and it just hit me. Her scent and just her presence; I know she’s mine.”

“How did he know?” Chan asked, pulling his own mate against him as he spoke.

“I don’t know, but this can’t be a coincidence,” Hyunjin insisted.

“I know,” Chan agreed.

“Look,” Hyunjin sighed. “I can’t leave her alone here. I have to stay for now.” Chan understood, letting him stay with the promise to send someone else to keep watch over her tomorrow so he could get some rest and come back to discuss what to do next.

“I hate this,” Chan said, as he sat at the cafe a block away from the craft store.

“We can hear everything that is happening,” Jisung assured him. “She’ll be fine, but we need him to come out.”

“I know,” He shifted in his seat. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

They spent the afternoon waiting, and waiting, and waiting. Over an open line, Chan, Jisung, Changbin and Jeongin listened as she went about her day like everything was fine and normal. She helped customers, stocked shelves, and worked at the register, all while Chan was on the edge of his chair, waiting for something to happen. But, it seemed, it was all for nothing. The sun set and the store closed and seemingly all was well. She locked the front door and set about closing everything down by herself.

Chan relaxed a little, hearing her calm humming as she closed down the register and counted out the money in the back of the store. After the money was counted and locked in the safe, she just had to make one last pass through of the store to make sure no one had left something behind or left a mess and then she could head home. Over the radio, Changbin and Jeongin started joking around, getting playful after a tense day. Everyone was relaxing, at least until a loud crack broke over the mic followed by her surprised squeal. The jokes stopped and everyone froze.

“I know you all are out there,” the loner’s self-satisfied voice cut through the silence. “Don’t worry. I won’t make her suffer, but sadly, you will.”

Before the words were even finished coming out of the loner’s mouth, Chan was up, running as fast as he could to the store. He had to get in, he had to protect her. Jisung was on his heels as they ran across the street and into the strip mall parking lot.

“Why?” She asked, her voice slightly strained.

“Why should he have you when my mate was stolen from me?” He growled.

“What did they have to do with that?” She asked, keeping him busy for as long as possible. If he was explaining things, he wasn’t killing her.

“Nothing,” he admitted, dragging her towards the back door. “But neither did anyone in the last three territories I went through. This one was the first one that figured out it was me though.”

“What the hell is the matter with you,” she spat. “You think you can take something from others just because it happened to you?”

“Why should I be the only one who has to be alone?” He demanded, pushing her against the wall by her neck.

“The only one,” she scoffed, realizing this was probably not the ideal way to handle this, but she couldn’t help it. “You know most people don’t have some beacon to tell them who they are supposed to be with. Even those who do, people lose the people they love all the time. Car accidents, illness, crime, no one needs your help suffering, you selfish, shitty person.”

“What do you know,” he hissed back. 

“I know that your mate was lucky not to have had to spend a lifetime with someone who would do this,” she challenged. “No one deserves that.”

Shock and rage vied for dominance in his expression as he stared at her. He made a sound of pure rage and pulled back a hand to strike her. Never having been the sort to just lay down and give up, she kicked out catching the side of his knee. It didn’t really hurt him, but it was enough to unbalance him and make him catch himself, giving her the chance to break out of his grip. She knew she wouldn’t get far, he was faster and stronger, so she just tried to get as close as she could to where Chan and the others were. They would come, she had faith.

The loner came up, grabbing her from behind. “I’m glad, even if this is the last thing I do, I’m not just denying him his mate, but I’ll take his child, too.”

On the other side of the glass door, Chan felt half a second of numbing terror. He had to get inside, for both of them. Changbin picked up a part of a broken concrete curb stop and smashed it against the window, cracking the safety glass into a million little pieces, still stuck together by the coating, but weakened. He hit it again, opening a hole the size of a fist, and again, until the tear in the inner plastic layer got bigger. Impatiently, and perhaps a little recklessly, Chan covered his hand with his jacket sleeve and tore at the shattered glass. Finally the hole was big enough and he crawled through onto the display on the other side of the glass. He had to find her.

Their scuffling was audible and he found them quickly, rolling on the floor a few aisles into the store. She had curled into a ball, only moving to thwart his attempts to move her or drag her further to the back of the store. They all leapt on him, pulling him off her and dragging him away before they made sure he could never hurt another person. Chan stayed with her, trying to get her off the floor where she lay. He needed to hold her, make sure she was okay, make sure the loner hadn’t done anything to her that needed an ambulance.

She peeked out from under her arm, checking who it was before throwing herself into his arms. Relief coursed through her like she had never felt before. She breathed his name and threw her hands around his neck. Pulling her to his chest, he held her close for a moment before pulling her back to get a better look at her. Bruises were blooming on her neck and wrists, but that seemed to be the most serious injuries inflicted upon her.

“Baby girl,” he looked into her eyes, trying to find the words to express how sorry he was he hadn’t been there.

“I knew you would come,” she assured him.

“I will always come for you,” he promised, his hand dropping to her stomach. “For both of you. I will always protect my loves with everything I have.” Over the past few days he had been so preoccupied with their hunt and their planning that he hadn’t noticed the subtle change in her scent.

“How do you know,” she shook her head. “I don’t feel any different.”

“Nothing much, just a little change in your scent… hormones and all that,” He smiled and shrugged. It wasn’t really something a person could sense themselves. “Are you happy? I know this has been… too much.”

“I am,” she nodded. “I may not have chosen this way to meet you and fall into your world, but I don’t think I can imagine ending up anywhere else.”

“You’re mine,” he assured her. “And there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do just to see you smile.”

Masterlist

[boogiewrites]

Choking On Sapphires 36

Title & Song:  Beast of Burden

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Word Count: 5500+

Summary: Genevieve wants to thank Alfie for behaving so well on her behalf, but as it usually goes, he gives her something she didn’t know she needed. 

Warnings/Tags: Language. Explicit Sexual Content. FLUFF.

**Chapter song is Beast of Burden by The Rolling Stones..**

Positive feedback is MUCH appreciated! Reblogs, likes, asks and comments feed me to write more! Let me know if you’d like tagged in my work.

My Masterlist. (Includes Parts 1-35)

Alfie had been so nice to you that morning. Unusually so, and it was hard not to give away your secret in your smile as his compliments came with cheek kisses and shoulder squeezes. Getting both unprovoked at breakfast wasn't something he'd done before. He had sat you down after he came in from work that same day. His eyes showed pity and his face showed his hesitancy to share what he thought Thomas was trying to do to you. You sell it and sell it well. You leave him in a similar fashion to the night he'd filled your house with lavender. You thank him, tears threatening to fall, with a single kiss, your thumb rubbing his cheek as you sigh and excuse yourself. The poor lad was never the wiser.

After seeing how revealingly kind Alfie had been, in both what he said to Tommy and what he'd told you had happened, you felt a lingering pang of guilt knocking around in your head along with your reasons for doing it. You had to be certain about his loyalty to you if you were to truly accept this new gangster lifestyle. You hadn't had a choice. A woman in this life didn't get a second chance if she trusted the wrong person. You already owned one street, working on a second and you couldn't move forward without knowing you'd have him in your corner. You wanted to thank him, and there was one way that you could that you knew he'd appreciate.

It's almost ten, you're in Alfie's room, looking out the window to the forest and rolling hills. The sound of summer storm moving across the land rumbles the panes and sends a calm throughout the house. You thought he'd be home by now, your nails tap on the glass as your teeth worry away at your lips. You were starting to chill with the thin fabric of the gown you wore. You'd planned on slithering right up to him as he walked in the door and spending the night thanking him with your body for being such a good boy through this whole ordeal.

By the time he gets home, it's hours later. You'd fallen asleep in his bed, determined to see your plan through, and the need to warm up after your choice in pajamas fell short on the coverage of your body for warmth.

"What the fuckin' hell ya doin' in 'ere Genny?" is what you're woken up by. You sit up with a grunt, running your hand through your hair.

"Waiting for you..." you grumble, voice heavy with sleep. You rub your eyes before focusing them on the clock, seeing the surprising hour.

"Well I kept ya waitin' dinnit I?" he says, tossing his jacket unceremoniously onto a chair. His brow is furrowed, circles under his eyes making him look gaunt. You can see the redness appearing on his neck as you could tell he'd been fidgeting and scratching himself in thought too often. You found a different sort of urge come over you from the intended one you'd come in with.

He sits on the opposite side of the bed as you laid on. He grunts with the impact, stretching his neck from side to side, triggering a huge yawn. You crawl over the bed and slink off the side to stand before him.

"Looks like you could use some kindness, darling." you say softly, fingers starting to work at the buttons on his vest.

"Ya got any to spare?" he asks, tired eyes looking up at you, you give him a sweet smile.

"I might be able to find some around here somewhere." you chuckle softly, moving to the buttons on his shirt.

"Ya don't gotta, sweetie I'm fuckin' barely still together after tonight." he yawns, his arms moving slowly and possibly subconsciously as you slide the layers off of him.

"I've been going through it this week as well, Fie." you kiss the top of his head, a grunt escaping from deep in his chest at the gesture. You get another grunt as you kneel down to pull off one of his shoes.

"Not that it ain't fuckin' heavenly havin' a creature like you tend to me, but ya ain't gotta-" he protests weakly.

"Hush, Alfie. I was trained to take care of men for most of my life, you know. I'm very good at it." you say with a bossy smile that slumps his shoulders in defeat. You move to place his shoes together at the foot of the bed for the maids to pick up to clean. He'd been somewhere disgusting tonight, the metallic smell of blood drifts by as the bottoms of his shoes have become disturbed. You move back to kneeling in front of him, grabbing his big toe playfully and tugging at his sock before rolling it down and off. The feel of your silken skin touching and tending to his sensitive never touched nerves of his ankles draws a heavy sigh from him as you ball it and toss it into a basket across the room. A single nod in victory as it lands where it's supposed to. You seamlessly move to repeat the action on the other foot.

"You are that, yeah?" he says with a half smile, watching your soft polished hands move delicately across the rough natural fabrics of his clothes. "But I recall you cursin' about that trainin' when ya's drunk, love. 'Bout how much you hated it." his eyes move away from you.

"You know I don't do anything I don't want to do. Best you just let me do something that's nice while I have the urge to be so, eh?" you give another soft smile, meeting his eyes to let him know you weren't doing it out of some expected gender role exchange. You did it because it came to you naturally for him, you were so bold as to think that it also came naturally to him to treat you much the same.  Still on your knees, your hands go for the closure on his trousers.

"Luv I ain't got it in me tonight." he says, his voice gritty, hand holding your wrist before you shake it out of his grasp.

"I might've come in here with the intention for such a thing but I'm not trying to give you any trouble tonight am I? Now lay back." you say with a smirk to go with the chuckle his suggestion makes, shaking your head and standing after you push him back onto the bed by the shoulder. He lands with a grunt.

"I'm a grown fuckin' man ya don't gotta-" you shush him again, yanking his trousers off him, and loom above his solid form. His eyes close but brow still furrowed

"Stop being so difficult," you say with a laugh. "You've taken care of me before, let me do it for you." you look him over him, considering your next move.

He grunts in response, opening one eye first. "I 'ave taken care of ya before, 'aven't I?" a smug, lazy smile comes across his lips.

"Yes, you have. Now scoot up and get your head on the pillows you silly boy." you almost baby talk him. "You keeping these on?" you ask with a raised eyebrow, one finger tugging at the waistband of his underwear.

"Gotta keep you offa me so yeah." he says with a snort. You laugh as you walk to the other side of the bed, he turns his head to watch you.

"I'm certain I can control myself." you grin at him, hand resting on the book on the table by the bed you'd brought in, planning to take it with you and go back to your bed.

He moves too fast for how tired he claims he is. He almost rolls over, grabbing your wrist and yanking you back into the bed. You land with a plop on your hip. Giving him a scolding look he can barely read in the dark. "But count on you to not." you snicker.

"Nah I want ya to do somefin' for me and it requires you gettin' back in bed so I just took the liberty of just fuckin' pullin' ya back in meself." You lay propped up on your elbows, looking at each other.

"What am I doing back in bed with you then?" you give him a smile that he feels in the dark, he hears you wet your lips and hears the quiet pops of your tongue as that smile grows as he grunts and reaches out to find your knee.

"I may not have voiced it at the time but I found myself real fuckin' fond of what ya's doing to me hair and face after you fixed me back," he says in a grumbled way you find endearing. "I wanted ya to do it again." he leans in closer to you, voice quieter now. "I know 'is a favor, yeah? I know ya ain't much on it at night. But how can a man help but want ya to keep ya hands on him in such a soothing way." he admits, his lips pouting with his annunciation.

"I'm not opposed to a good cuddle. Touch is vital for humans. I just don't tend to crave it in such a way after sex like a lot of people do. Just not something I've made a habit." you scoot yourself up, your chest close to his face as you hear a deep, relaxing sigh. "But just good, old-fashioned affection? You have only to ask, darling." He grunts and nods at you. You move to lay on your back slightly under him like you had the last time, scooting yourself closer to him. Your fingers moving into his beard. "Most like getting cooed and cuddled when they feel bad. The touch helps you recharge, I believe." his eyes roll back and shut as your nails scratch his scalp lightly.

"And I do feel fuckin' bad." he groans out.

"Then lie down next to me so you can fall asleep." What a heavenly thing to hear in the sound of your voice, he thought.

You adjust yourself after he plops his head onto the pillow you move towards him to share so you can see him properly. You busy one hand in his beard, rubbing his neck lightly. The others move through his dark hair, you mess it up on purpose, looking forward to the bed head he'd have in the morning. He was so boyishly handsome, all disheveled. You're cut out of your cycles of stroking and scratching as a snore of him nodding off escapes his popping lips, triggering an involuntary smile from you.

"Goodnight you big pup." you whisper, thumb rubbing his cheek before you slowly separate yourself from him. You lay on your back next to him, shutting your eyes and listening to his breathing as it's even pace helps you start to feel sleepy again. You feel him move, bringing the covers up over you both. You feel a warm paw reach out, grabbing your waist as he settles in closer.

"Another favor." he mumbles, smiling a smug closed mouth smile, not even opening his eyes. As he lays his head on your stomach, his big arm over you, his body weighing heavily on you. He hums contently as he feels you laugh, knowing he's gotten his way. You put a pillow behind your head, laying back and propping up slightly, your fingers go back to play in his hair. You most certainly were right in calling him a pup. The big, bad Alfie Solomons everyone feared curled up for a scratch behind the ears. You don't think anyone would've believed you even if you did tell them. ---- You'd separated at some point in the hours you'd been sleeping. He wakes up to see you still deeply asleep, laying on your side, facing away from him taking slow breaths. Your shoulders bare, he can see the handful of freckles that scatter across your back that in the dim light of the morning sun, just barely intruding on the light in the room, are enough to draw his attention to them. He slowly stretches, a grunt as his body goes back to rest. He looks down to see the usual morning intrusion between his legs, insisting he touch you. His hand reaches out, covering your shoulder, his face hovering over your hair. You stir at the warmth he brings over with him. You don't open your eyes, you remain still except for the deep breath you take, triggering a yawn as you hum and nestle back into the bed. His arm reaches around your stomach as he scoots himself closer. The heat of him is almost searing against your skin, still chilled from being bare against the air of the room.

"Matin." you mumble, moving your face into the pillow. Your voice is weak and breathy.

"Mornin', luv." his sleep-heavy voice naturally sends a warm sensation down your spine with it's impossibly seductive, deep tone. He plants a kiss on your shoulder first, hesitantly as if he's testing you for a reaction. When you make no sign of rebuttal, you feel the heat of his hand as it moves to your upper arm, the weight comforting and warm, his thumb making idle trails over your back. You take a slow, indulgent deep breath, resettling your body under the thin covers, your hips wiggling against a clear sign of his intentions. You hear him grunt as you make the, at first, unintentional contact, the low noise near your ear. You reach up to tuck your hair behind it, giving a clear invitation he does not hesitate to act on as you feel his lips against your shoulder once again, now not leaving but moving in languid, indulgent movements, leaving trails from his peeking tongue behind that send chills as the air hits them.

"Mmmph, Alfie." you exhale, your eyes opening just slightly, you sigh and relax against his large form. His hand trails down your arm to your stomach, fingers splayed across the soft silk of your nightgown. That tenderly feminine way you said his name fuels him as his eyes roll behind his lids. Leading the way with his nose, he moves to your neck, breathing you inaudibly, nose on your ear, lips on your throat. You wondered if you could talk him into waking you up like this more often.

His hand moves up your ribs, grasping at you in a firm hold as he pulls you closer, you feel him against your bum, shifting against him as his hands glide with purpose to your chest.  His strong square-tipped fingers curl around the neckline of your nightgown. They grasp and tug, pulling it down to spill your chest out into his eagerly kneading hand.

He breath is heavy against your ear. "Fancy a fuck this mornin', luv?" he rasps in your ear, that velvet voice making parts of you he'd referred to as velvet tense. As he buries his face in your hair he hears you let out that low hum of approval he's grown fond of.

"It's what I came in here for, isn't it?" he raises his head to see that sly smile on your face, he presses his lips against the side of your face as you turn your upper body just slightly, reaching behind you. Your hand moves down his stomach, fingers moving, searching and finding him twitching and waiting. You grasp him over the thin fabric you'd left on him the night before.

"It is." he groans, your chest being turned up towards him more now, he leans over you to engulf one of your hardening nipples with his warm mouth. He sucks gently for a moment, a weighted sigh builds in your chest. "How's about..." he begins, moving from your breast to kick off his underwear. "We take the lazy way out this mornin'." his hands move back to your hips, his mouth to your neck once more. "We can revisit this and we can proper take out all that stress from work on each other tonight, eh?" his voice is slow and low, confident but still requesting permission.

"What does this lazy way out entail?" you ask, your lashes fluttering before your dark eyes meet his. You wore a soft expression on your face despite how your hand was currently cupping and fondling his balls, making his eyes want to shut again at the feeling.

"It means we don't wear ourselves out, but we both still get off, luv." his speech gets less articulate the longer you tug at him, the head of his cock wedged between your cheeks, his lids going heavy, lips parted.

"Mmm." you hum. "You're so hard this morning, Fie." you whisper out, eyes closed, lips in a smile as you tighten your grip around him. "Are you planning on making me come like this?" you ask almost innocently, pressing back on his cock, burying him deeper between your thighs and bum. He lets out a low grunt of approval, hips bucking slightly at the gesture.

"I am. Why?" his voice is back to aggressive, you feel the breath huff from his flared nostrils, a rough hand back on your breast.

"Good. You'll hit where you should if you fuck me like this." you purr back, you're still quiet and soft, although not from sleep any longer.

"You think I don't know how to make you come by now?" he says in a condescending tone you welcomed, he reaches down to yank up one of your legs by the knee, opening you up to him. You feel the heat of his hands running down your inner thigh in a clear taunt.

"That's not what I said." you say with a pouty, playfully defensive tone, your hips swiveling. "I was merely supporting the decision." you keep your cool demeanor as his fingers move between your lips.

"I would say yer lyin' but what with how wet you are I can tell yer proper fuckin' supportive innit ya?" he says in that perfect mixture of predatory and charming.

"Don't use that tone with me when it's your fault I'm wet," you say with a taunting smile, he returns the expression, leaning down to kiss you, lips only lightly manipulating yours. "You aren't going to shame me..." you say in a tone that makes him smile into the kiss. "Not when I know how much you love how wet I get for you." you purr at him.

He exhales forcefully out of his nostrils, "I do fuckin' love it, dunnit I?" his lips work forcefully against your own as he moves his fingers tips back and forth, grazing over your clit. Your eyes roll back behind their lids as you continue pulling away at him, his hips bucking with your movements. You feel him resituate himself, his fingers only leaving your body for a second as one teases you before he slides it inside you. Immediately drawing a sharp inhale against his lips, he cuts short the moan he causes as he hooks his finger into you. He slips an arm under your neck, holding you tightly and pulling you closer, his kisses almost overwhelming enough of an experience to make you forget his fingers. You maneuver your arm out and up to grip your fingers into his hair, pulling him hungrily closer with an encouraging moan as he slips another finger inside you.

You swear in a breathy exhale as your hips buck, "Fuck." you say weakly, his fingertips starting to press and roam over the spot inside you that he's learning so intimately that it's almost an unfair advantage at how quickly he can render you helpless with it.

"So eager already." he says in that condescending tone you love, pressing harder as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, those skilled fingers pulsing and drawing a higher pitched, helpless, "Fuck." in response. "You hear how fucking wet you are?" the tone of his voice, deep and shaming makes you moan loudly against his mouth, hovering over yours, greedily watching you give yourself over.

"Oui." you choke out, so intoxicatingly submissive to his ears that craved those sounds from you, your thighs tense as he brushes over your clit with his thumb.

"Should I make you come like this? Or should I fill you up and make you come around this throbbing cock you've caused."

You let out another breathy moan, your brow falling, eyes opening and piercing straight into his. "Around that throbbing cock of yours." the seductress was back behind your eyes, he knew you were close as he sees your eyes dark and focused.

He doesn't hesitate, and how could he after that request. HIs fingers are out of you in a flash, hand tight around his cock, covering him in your wetness, dripping from his fingers. You tilt your hips back, leg bent and knee up, opening you wide, a clear and open invitation that he answers swiftly, his hips dipping down to line himself up with you. Your bodies now familiar with each other, notch together with less and less conscious effort each time.

You let out a guttural moan, your hips involuntarily twitching as you feel that satisfying pressure of his head making its way inside you. Your fingers are taught in his hair, you wet your lips at the sensation of him slowly filling you up. He pulls your hips back towards him, you feel him fill you up entirely, holding himself in you as deeply as he could. His arms snakes up to your breasts, holding one tightly, an assault of kisses soon following. They're deep and intense, doing his best to stimulate you to the point of being overwhelmed, giving him what he desperately worked towards in fucking you so thoroughly that you'd never forget how good he made you feel. His fingers pinch and roll your nipples, he feels you pulse around him and he curses in a growl you tense even more in reaction to, he moans from the things your body does to him, you falling apart, making him do the same.

"Fuck me, Alfie." you whine and reach between your legs to your clit. You hear him rumble out a groan at your needful words "Make me come." you say in a much more seductive and less demanding way, moaning as he feels you touching yourself, drawing out of you and pushing back in with a hiss.

"Your cunt feels like fucking silk, luv." he says quietly, breathily into your ear, lips moving along the side of your face. He only takes a few strokes to adjust to your tight grip around him.

"Yes, 'Fie, more." you moan as you let your head fall back, your fingers working in circles around your clit. His pace filling you up with a shove, dragging himself slowly in and out of you and pushing every spot you wanted on his way. His arm across your chest moves to the side of your head, pressing you against him, your entire body moved when he pumped into you. A flush travels across your face,  you buck against him, lip bitten in concentration. He pulls your face just a breath away from his own, eyes dark and hungry, meeting yours as he watches them roll and flutter when he reaches down to yank your leg up by your thigh, hand strong and firm against the soft flesh.

"You feel so tight like this," he groans out. Hand moving to slap where your arse meets your legs. "Fuck." he growls as he hits into you harder, making you squeak, the slaps and slams making you seize around him and threaten to end this too soon. His hand moving back quickly to your face again, his tongue greedily invading your panting mouth. Devouring your already helpless moans.

He feels that first roll of your body against his. That wave of pleasure your body takes so literally, every soft bit of you pressing against him as you writhe. You head falls back again, his temple rests against yours. "You are as hard as a fucking diamond." you moan out in praise. "You feel so good." you moan out in a soft way, his lips findings your bare skin again, pressing against your face, nostrils flared as he huffs out breaths timed with his thrusts. "Fuck I'm close." you whisper out, but he doesn't dare not catch the warning.

"Come on then." his tone cocky and  challenging and you shudder against him as the hot breath following his words connect your lips as he pulls back to look at your face, your body heat, mixed with the heat from the friction you both create forms a thin veil of sweat over your bodies, his hair limp and bouncing across his forehead in time to his thrusts.

Your moans turn to cried swears, he moves his hand to your chest, holding you down, holding you close as he fucks into you with a loud slapping thud each time, making your mouth gasp open. You make a squeaking sound he isn't sure of at first, but the lustful almost roar that follows it makes him pant into your ear, growling at your sinful sounds.

Your hand, surprisingly to him, moves quickly from between your legs to grasp at his forearm. "That's it." you cry out, lip slightly snarled as you used your grip on his arm to push back into his hips causing the devilish wet slap of skin to skin to echo throughout the room. "Yes, make me come all over that fucking cock." your teeth clenched, voice with no innocence to be found in it any longer. He isn't sure how but he lasts through the sensual show you put on as you pulse around him. He can hear every breath as your head falls back again against his, he takes the shell of your ear between his teeth. He holds you down yet again, your shaking hands letting his forearm go with no resistance to your soft mound, he holds himself deep inside you, making your eyes cross as he prolongs the blissfull fluttering of your hips. He slows, but he does not stop, the same can be said for the small little moans that follow your panted breaths. The drawn-out, full tilt moan that blooms out of your mouth, so close to his ear hold his full attention. "Oh she's still got more in her, does she?" he asks, a wet kiss pressed to the side of your face.

"Yes. You feel so fucking good." your hand moves back to in his hair as soon as his grip moves back to your hips. "Alfie, don't stop." you plead, he feels your juices starting to make their way down his balls, his tongue laps at the skin under your ear in a purely animalistic reaction to your body's wordless praises along with the pleading call of his name from your sweet lips.

"I won't. I won't." he coos in your ear. The unexpected softness in his raspy voice makes you shudder in his arms. His hold tight, his hand moving up to the side of your face again, pushing back the wet hair that's stuck to your face in your writhing. He keeps it there, his mouth working just under your earlobe, forehead pressed against your temple as he keeps pumping into you at a much gentler pace than what drew the first orgasm from you.

"Just like that." you barely rasp out, your request for something softer surprises him but he's more than relieved at the news. This slow build, this slow burn that felt like it was threatening to become untamable at any second was new. You always wanted it harder, faster, rougher. Here you were, trembling, almost two orgasms deep in a man's arms asking him to fuck you slowly. If this is what slow was like maybe you should stop shunning slow. The point is driven home when you feel that magnificent cock of his push you just where it needed to to make sure you took the hint that when done right, perhaps slow wasn't something you should look down upon.

He's not witnessed you come like this before. You don't convulse, you don't shout or scratch. Instead, a building, needful moan comes in waves with your deep breaths as he feels you reach some bewitching mixture of wet and tight. Hard, sudden squeezes draw swears from his mouth against your skin. His eyes are kept open, watching your lips, panting, licking, calling out his name as you roll like a serpent against him. He knows he isn't going to last forever, but if he could have stayed right there and orgasmed you into dehydration, he would.

He sees your eyes shoot open, fluttering and rolling as they try to focus again. "Holy Shit, Solomons." you pant out, taking a noisy gulp. "Fuck, you're good." you moan out, taking a moment to shake your head before turning your face to his and kissing him.

In his already close state, your actions catch him off guard. You move away and off of him to his confusion, but you don't give him time to even get in a vocal rebuttal as you push him to the bed by his hip, moving to take the tip of him into your mouth and all he can manage is one hand at his side and the other moving your hair out of your face so he can see whatever magic you are working on him. Your hands play with his balls, eliciting a deep moan from him, his head thrown back, your nails just grazing and manipulating the flesh before they go to wrap around his length, joining forces with your mouth, rendering him useless.

"Fuckin' 'ell, Genevieve." he eventually manages, bottom lip hanging down, line of teeth exposed, both hands next to him on the bed as you suck and stroke him to his end. "Fuck, luv you're gonna-"

Your eyes shoot up to his, your hands, slightly overlapped, and wet work on his length, your pink lips framing your tongue, which currently had the head of his cock being slapped against it and he moans like a bloody woman at the sight. "You've been such a good boy I think I'll even swallow all your spunk this time, Alfie." he doesn't know if it's the visual, the auditory stimulation or the filth of the words, but in combination with  the sound of you saying his name with his cock in your mouth makes him cum, and hard with no further warning given to either you or him about it. As he spurts out against your tongue and lips you suck him down again, you meet your nose with his pelvis as he shoots into your mouth, all you can make out is a random assortment of "Fuckin" "hell" and "Gen" in cycles.

You make that obscene pop that causes his balls tingle with your mouth as you slide off him after his hips still. He watches you put on a show for him, his mouth open, pink and panting like yours, eyes not changed from dark yet, face relaxed and spent. You crawl back up the bed, your index finger wiping the bits of him that had caught you both off guard, as you lay next to him, facing him, you suck the rest of your finger, that same wet obscene pop making his cock twitch even now. You give a filthy smile, everything about it naughty as you look up at him from your lashes. Now laying back on the bed and looking at him with a smile that looked like you knew a secret he didn't.

"You're a fucking angel or the god damn devil and I can't decide which," he says, voice still exasperated and you grin, moving to your side and reaching for the blanket to cover both of you as you'd started getting chilly again already. "We were supposed to just lay and get off and then ya had to....do all 'at." he says, hand motioning to his crotch. "Ya really didn't have to do that sweetheart." he turns his face back to you. It holds a curious expression, your eyes slowly blinking at him as he returns the expression.

"I suppose I would have to say my odds are on the devil." you grin. "Seeing as you know how much I love to do that sort of thing." your eyes swing to his cock with a raise of an eyebrow and back up to his eyes.

"I can see the logic on 'at, yeah?" he gulps and lets out a noisy breath. "But my odds are on angel because sayin' that just made ya fuckin' perfect dinnit?"  a slow, lazy smile forms across both of your faces as you lay in the afterglow together.

Pt. 37 Filth/Gorgeous (NSFW)

@fangirlfreakingout @jaegeeeeer @cosettewinchester@lookuptheskyisfalling-blog @brianaisasongbird @cry5t4l-w4rri0r@iliveonchocolateandnetflix @jess2464 @hardygal69@thegarrisonpublichouse @a-flock-of-angry-pigeons @pootle@negansdirtygirl22 @musingsby-night @wtf-is-wrong-with-this@shine-dont-shadow @inkinterrupted @vale0413 @lafayettes-baguettes-1 @sxlomons  

[bloodxredxwolf]

The Fall of The Wolf

The Breach awakened more than just the Dread Wolf. Now, a vampire roams Thedas and she has a score to settle. Darkness, we all know it, we all feel it, we all fear it. But how long does one have to spend in the darkness before it becomes a part of you? How long before it slowly eats away at everything you are-were...how long before you forget the sound of laughter, the warmth of a smile? How long...before you become that cold, empty void we all fear? It has been ages..She had almost forgotten she was asleep...but now? Now, it’s not the darkness you need fear, sweet child….it’s what the darkness has awakened… Chapter 1: And So It Begins… It was midnight, a time when most things are at peace; little ones tucked snugly into bed, their parents embracing each other while sleeping in the room down the hall. The lone guard patrolling an empty street even though there is no sign of crime. A lone wolf howling at the brilliant moon while her pups are nestled safely in her den. For some, however, midnight was the peak of existence. A lone ship was sailing across the Amaranthine Ocean, leaving Nevarra in her wake and heading toward Ferelden. It was quiet on deck, most of the crew were below, while only a handful remained to mind the rigging. All seemed quiet and routine, save for the figure crouched atop the mast of the main sail. Nothing could be made out except for a pair of glowing yellow eyes. It seemed to be watching the crewmen below, the way an eagle sits in a tree watching its prey, waiting for an opening to strike. Suddenly, without warning, the figure dropped to the deck, landing without a sound and slinking alongside the canons. The eyes were as bright as the sun, with pupils so thin and black one almost felt as if they were looking into a bottomless abyss. It waited, crouched, remaining almost lifelessly still as one crewmember slowly, unknowingly, walked closer. Instantly, the figure lashed out, breaking the crewman’s neck and retreated under the staircase leading to the captain’s cabin. The moonlight shone through the slats of the stairs, reflecting off the creature’s dagger-like fangs before they sank deep into the dead man’s neck. Blood dripped from its mouth and even more fell onto the wooden panels of the floor as it gorged itself on the lifeless carcass. Then, as quickly as it had happened, the figure was gone and a not so distant splash was heard behind the ship. The figure returned to the perch in the mast as the crew seemed none the wiser that they were now one man short. A sweet aroma, reminiscent of lilacs and lavender wafted through the air before the night returned to her usual, calm self. Morning arrived and the crew slowly began to emerge from the bowels of the ship. Many had not even reached their stations before “LAND HO!” was heard from the crow’s nest of “The Drunken Lover”. The captain emerged from her cabin, her dark skin and even darker hair causing her to stand out from her crew, as if her gaudy (if not scanty) attire failed to do that on its own. She looked out over her crew and saw that they were almost in a daze, as if the ship were manned by nothing but tranquil. She sniffed the air and caught the faint scent that had been so much stronger just a few hours earlier. She sighed in frustration as she put her hands on her hips, “If you keep this up, I won’t have a crew to get us into port.” A young elven girl dropped beside her before standing to her full height. She looked young, mid to late twenties, hair blacker than night, lips as red as blood, and eyes that shone like the sun. Her skin was pale, as if she had scarcely seen sunlight, her Vallaslin was red as her lips and curved elegantly around the curvature of her face. The markings continued down her chin, onto her neck, and, although you couldn’t see it, down the entire length of her body. Her ears were long and poked out from underneath her chest-length hair. She kept a hood up, enough to shade her face from the sun, but not hide it completely. She lifted a slender hand and gently touched her lips, “Be glad I have controlled my thirst enough to leave you a crew at all. After all, if it weren’t for the untimely death of their captain, you wouldn’t even have this ship. A shame really, mauled by a wild animal,” she smirked, “such an excruciating way to die.” The captain shook her head and put up a hand, “I don’t need or want to know the details, but a deal is a deal. You got me my ship, I gave you passage to Kirkwall, meals included. Once we land, my crew is off limits to your...cravings?” The elf chuckled, “Yes, Isabela, I will leave you and your crew alone. I don’t intend to stay in the city long, my hunt is leading me elsewhere.” She mock bowed, exaggeratedly throwing her arms out, “If the captain doesn’t mind, I shall take my leave. And you’ll not see me again, this I promise you.” Before she could even respond, the girl was gone. Captain Isabela stood at the stern of the ship and watched silently as they sailed into port. It had been several years since she first set foot in the city and met her dear friend, Marian Hawke. So much history stood before her, yet she had no desire to stay and reminisce. As far as she was concerned, they were replacing the men who had “mysteriously fallen overboard”, restocking supplies, and leaving. True to her word, the elf slipped off the ship without a sound and vanished among the crowd. She clung to the shadows as she maneuvered her way through Lowtown, her hand to her nose to keep as much of the awful smell out as possible. She quickly made her way from the slums to the markets of Hightown and the gates of the Viscount’s Hall. After the invasion of the Qunari and the death of the previous Viscount, several changes had been made, including more highly trained guardsmen. As she approached the closed gate a guard stepped in front of her, “What business do you have here?” “I have business with the Viscount.” The guard looked down his nose at her, “What business does a knife ear have with Her Grace?” Before his mouth was finished moving, her hand was around his throat and holding him above the ground and against the wall. Her pupils were dilated and her hood had fallen around her shoulders. “Call me ‘knife-ear’ one more time, you bloody swine.” she snarled. The second guard spun to face her and drew his sword. She turned her head and he trembled as her eyes met his. The air grew cold as her golden eyes turned black. “You will sheathe your sword and take me to your Viscount. You will remember neither my coming or going and you will forget that you ever left your post.” Both guards, as if in a trance, replied, “I will take you to the Viscount and remember neither your coming or going.” She placed the first guard back on his feet and replaced her hood on her head as the guards opened the gate and walked into the courtyard. They led her up a large stairway and before large, intricately carved doors. They knocked twice before opening the doors, revealing a large room with windows looking out onto the city. Books lined the walls in every direction. In the center of the room was a desk, where a woman with crystal blue eyes and raven hair sat, her hands to her chin, fingers interlaced. By her side stood a man with orange hair, his hand placed cautiously on a mage staff leaning behind the Viscount’s chair. The guards bowed and closed the doors as they exited the room. The elf removed her hood and bowed. “My Lady, it is a pleasure to finally meet you. I have heard much of the Champion of Kirkwall.” The man was first to respond, “What business do you have here, demon?” The Viscount raised her hand to him, “It’s alright, Anders. If she meant me any harm, she would have attacked instead of introducing herself. What is your name?” The girl glanced at Anders, “Ana, and you can put your staff away. As she said, if I wanted to hurt either of you, you would already be dead.” Anders snarled, but Marian nodded for him to lower his staff. “What can I do for you, Ana?” Ana glanced at the shelves of books and sighed, “I’m looking for an artifact of my people. I heard whispers there was one here in Kirkwall.” She peeked out of the corner of her eye at Marian and Anders, “An Eluvian?” The Champion and Anders both looked at each other before Anders took a step forward. Ana began to walk to the window to her left, acting as though she hadn’t noticed their postures become defensive. She ran her hand along the windowsill before turning to face them. “I take from your silence that you know of what I speak. Then you must also know of the young elf who built it? The Fade has many things to say of her. Do you know where she is?” Marian stood, “I think you need to leave.” Ana smirked as her eyes met the Champion’s. “As you wish. You have told me everything I needed to know. Enjoy your day, Ser.” She bowed again as she pulled the doors open and left the room. “Anders, what was that? I have never felt magic like that before, even with Orsino.” Anders watched Ana walk through the courtyard, his eyes staying on her as he answered, “Old. Very old and dark magic. Even Justice feared it.” “And she wants the Eluvian? I don’t like this. Follow her, find out what she’s up to.” Anders nodded and left the room. Marian walked to the window on the furthest end of the room. “She wanted her presence known. That was all this visit was.” she said to herself. “Oh Merrill, I hope you haven’t done anything foolish to bring her here.” ***** The sun began to set and the streets were beginning to clear out. Anders stood in the middle of Hightown Market searching for any sign of Ana. How could she have just vanished? He already checked on Merrill and she had not seen any sign of anything unusual around the Alienage. He searched Lowtown, the docks, even Darktown, it was as if she had completely vanished. He had no choice but to return to his home with the Champion and tell her the news, or lack thereof. Merrill performed her usual rounds in the Alienage, making sure each family was taken care of before returning to her home. She thought she would miss being with her clan, but she had found solace in helping the elves here better their livelihoods. As she approached her door, she felt a chill in the air. She shuddered as she rubbed her arms and hurried inside. It was dark, so she used magic to light the lanterns in her home along with her fireplace. A startled gasp escaped her lips as she saw a figure sitting next to the fire. “I thought I would find you here.” “Wh-who are you?” Merrill said cautiously. “How did you get into my home?” The figure stood and walked over to the Eluvian against the far side of the room. “Oh Merrill. You young, foolish thing. You should have listened to your Keeper. This magic is too old and dangerous for the likes of you.” Merrill reached for her staff, “You need to leave. Now.” The figure turned, her red lips and yellow eyes reflecting the light of the fire. “I guess I should at least tell you my name. Not that it will matter soon. I am Ana, and I am here for the Eluvian.” “What do you know of my Eluvian? Hawke and I killed the demon, it cost me my clan. It hasn't been touched in over a year.” Ana caressed the intricate metal frame holding the glass. “Poor, sweet child. You toy with things you do not understand. You do not need to ‘touch’ it. Its magic is old, it called to me from lands beyond your knowledge.” Merrill squinted as she tensed her body, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I won’t ask you to leave again. The Eluvian does not work, now go!” “It needs a key. It doesn’t work because you haven’t used the key. Here, let me show you.” “Wha-?” Before Merrill could speak, Ana flicked her wrist and pushed Merrill against the wall. Merrill grunted as she fell to the ground. She waved her hand as a wall of ice shards flew in Ana’s direction. Merrill smirked as Ana made no attempt to dodge and the ice pierced her abdomen. The smile quickly faded, however, as Ana sighed and shook her head. She stepped back, pulling the ice shard from her body and threw it to the ground. Merrill’s eyes widened as the wound closed, not so much as a scar left behind. Ana brushed her hands together, “Please don’t make this any harder than it has to be.” Merrill spun her staff before slamming it to the ground. Electricity crackled as it ran across the room, but Ana was gone before it ever reached her position. Merrill gasped and spun just in time to see an orb of fire rushing towards her. She screamed as the flames burned her clothing and skin, the force of the impact throwing her across the room. She was shaking and gasping as she braced herself on her hands and knees. “What are you?” she choked. Ana walked to her before grabbing her by the back of her head, exposing her neck. “Darkness.” she replied before she sank her fangs deep into Merrill’s jugular. Merrill screamed, but only for a moment. Ana quenched her thirst as Merrill’s lifeless body hung from her grasp, her empty gaze facing the Eluvian. After a few moments, Ana stood and wiped the blood from her lips before placing a hand in the pool of blood at her feet. She held her palm to the surface of the Eluvian and the mirror began to glow. “Foolish child.” She whispered as she stepped over Merrill’s body and into the Void beyond the glass. As soon as she had passed through, the light from the Eluvian died and the glass shattered, leaving nothing but a metal frame and a lifeless body at its base.

[poop4u]

Puppies and Dog Parks in the Time of Covid-19

#Poop4U

So many good questions. About how to socialize puppies. About whether to go to dog parks. So few good answers.

But here’s a perspective that I hope is helpful: Risk management. It’s all about risk management.

FOR PUPPIES what are the risks if you have a puppy and can’t follow the usual guidelines for socializing your puppy? What are the risks if you do? We all know the risks by now of not following the advice about social distancing and avoiding contact with others as much as possible. We’re all (or should be) trying to avoid this freight train of a virus flooding medical facilities such that people end up dying simply because there were no beds, doctors, nurses or ventilators available. It’s not going to stop the virus from spreading so much as it will stop a surge in cases that overwhelms our ability to deal with it medically.

The risks to our puppies of social isolation are less dramatic, but exist nonetheless. Some young dogs who are isolated during early developmental periods will develop a fear of unfamiliar people or other dogs. Some will become aggressive. Many, of course, won’t. But it’s hard to predict exactly how any one puppy will respond to having social contact restricted.

So . . . Here are some thoughts about how raise a healthy puppy in this very unhealthy climate:

WALKS WALKS WALKS Strictly speaking, “socialization” refers to a young animal learning to identify members of its tribe. But as currently used, it’s been broadened to mean exposing young dogs and cats to a variety of stimuli, from unfamiliar people and dogs, to new sights (statues!), sounds (train whistles! trucks!) and smells (perfume?!).  Take your puppy on lots and lots of walks outside, trying to vary the sights, sounds and smells as you do. This is easier to do, of course, in the country or the suburbs where there are fewer people, but do all you can to get your pup out and about while maintaining a safe distance from others. We took the (leashed) BCs out last Saturday on a trail that we’ve seen one other couple on in about 6 trips total. This time the tiny parking lot was full, and people were parking on the road. About half of them had dogs with them. Silver lining! So many happy dogs!

Granted, it’s harder to walk a young puppy on leash than an adult, because that means you’re also training it to walk on leash. Silver lining number two! (With acknowledgement that you may need a more relaxing walk later after the pup has gone to sleep!) Your walks can be the equivalent of your puppy class exercises–I love training “in context,” so ask your pup to sit, stay, lie down, leave it, etc while out walking.  That’s when you’re going to need it any way, right?

HAVE A COSTUME PARTY Part of “socialization” is getting puppies used to the vast variety of humans that they are going to meet. And to dogs, “variety” often equals “shape”, so have a stash of hats, coats, sunglasses, feathers–you name it–in your car or garage and return home to greet your pup looking like Elton John. Please send photos.

CROSS FIT YOUR PUP Young dogs who live in the country experienced a vast range of environments and substrates. They have to push their way through tall grass, get stuck on wild raspberry thorns, run through mud and gravel, and negotiate downed trees and branches. But they sometimes don’t learn to navigate slick floors, rooms with ceiling fans (oh the horror) and noisy appliances that go on and off. City and suburban dogs grow up with that, but haven’t learned how to scramble their way over a wood pile, or slink under a hedge.

Think about what your pup has to do physically to get around in his world, and create challenges that not only expose him to a variety of challenges, but that also help him develop strength and coordination. And, of course

TRAIN WITH LOVE AND PATIENCE Your pup is learning whether to trust you or not, plain and simple. Do all you can to train using positive reinforcement, understanding that the trainee always gets to say what is reinforcing at the time. What any individual wants varies at any given time, so always ask yourself what is the best way to reinforce your pup at that moment. To chase you after coming when called? A super good piece of food for responding correctly to Leave It? A belly rub after lying down on cue? Your pup will tell you, honest. You just have to pay attention.

CAN YOU SAFELY HAVE YOUR PUP PLAY WITH ANOTHER? We’re back to risk management here, and to everyone making the best decision that they can. Can you set it up so that you and the other owner stay well apart? Are you sure you won’t both need to jump in and separate the pups at some point? Has the owner and the pup isolated themselves for two weeks? Can you wipe your pup’s coats down with soapy rags after they play? What risk category are you in?  Only you can decide what is best for you and your pup, and what level of interaction you feel is safe for you, your pup and the community.

AND WHAT ABOUT DOG PARKS? Is it safe to go? Are they even open? Dane County, WI dog parks are open, while Decatur Dog Park in IL are closed, so be sure to check before you go. If your favorite park is open, going or not is again a question of risk management. What do you lose by not going? What do you gain?

IF YOU GO, use the obvious precautions about touching anything–the gate, the latches, picnic tables. Use an approved sanitizer to clean your hands. Touch any public areas with something you can dispose of. Wash your hands before and after. Stay at least six feet apart from other people. (This means that you simply shouldn’t go if you have a dog that you have to manage physically rather than by voice. If Moxie runs up to other people and jumps on them, you can’t go get her. If Sammy plays a bit rough, how are you going to stop him?

I’d be very cautious myself about going to a dog park, but I do have sympathy for those who have dogs who pretty much implode without some off leash exercise. If that’s you, read what I wrote for puppies above, and last weeks post that encourages us all to teach our dogs new tricks. (Dogwise has some great books on trick training if you need some new ideas.) Take it from someone who lives in snow/blizzard/sleet country: Teaching a dog a new trick tires them out as much as a long walk.

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: Like everyone, we are doing our best to adapt to the strange world that we live in now. Jim and I are grateful for so many things, including that we live in a beautiful place in the country where we can walk out our door into the fresh air anytime we want. Granted, right now, that often means massive quantities of mud needs to be washed off of dogs when we come back in (I’m talking to you Skip The Mud Sponge), but still. Lucky us.

Jim, the oak tree, cruises along steadily, while I, the wind, cycle between We Can Do This Warrior Mode, and Does Sucking Your Thumb Count as Touching Your Face? (Answer not required.)

I am ridiculously lucky to have flowers blooming in the house right now. Given the bleakness of the usual March Mudmare going on, they lift my spirits every time I see them. This first one is a Christmas cactus that missed the party in December, but is doing it’s best to make up time.

Lucky me with blooming African Violets in the house! I just happen to have the perfect window for them, and once I moved them to it, all it took was a little fertilizer to wake them up.

This deep purple one is very special, because it belonged to my friend Donna’s mother, who passed away a few months ago. Donna asked if I’d rehome it, I said yes and she brought it back on the plane with her. Since then it’s flourished, and has graced us with these gorgeous flowers.

This is an orchid from a dear friend, and after a rough start, is blooming like crazy. Generally I think of myself as an African Violet Whisperer and an Orchid Killer, but after moving this one to the kitchen window, it went crazy. Not really a convenient place for a plant, but, hey, I’ve gotta keep my priorities straight.

By the way, Jim bought the flowers in the background from the supermarket when he went out for our now rare grocery runs. I know they are not considered an essential item, but we all have our definitions of essential, right? I’m admittedly a bit greedy about flowers, it feels like they help me stay sane.

What are you greedy for?  And how are you doing? Sending love and warmth to all of us in this very special global village.

  Poop4U Blog via www.Poop4U.com Trisha, Khareem Sudlow