#i just love dogs with dark muzzles

[yeyinde]

(sighs dreamily) i loooove the way you write fucked up and gross simon. the size kink and somno drabbles have been living rent free in my mind for almost two weeks now. the recent stalker piece was also so deliciously terrifying, i actually had a dream/nightmare today that was a mixture of stalker!ghost and not-dog!soap 😭

are you planning on writing any more for either of those?

ahhh thank you!!!! this had me wondering how i could maybe blend the two and this happened.

stalking. HEAVILY implied noncon somno. size difference.

Simon decides your dog, your baby, needs a man in the house. and since you like to call yourself his 'mama,’ then it’s only right that he becomes the daddy both of you need.

Your dog does not like strangers.

He's a rescue and the sort of life he lived until now, until you, is mostly a mystery. You found him on a rainy day, panting under your awning - a gnarled mess of matted fur glued to bone. Too skinny to survive another winter. You took him in right away and gained his trust. His love. But whatever he had left to spare (lots, it seems) is strictly reserved for you. Everyone else is a threat, a worry. Even the vets he's known since you found him all those years ago still get the same wary glances, the same growls then they lean in too close to whisper something in your ear.

He's just—special. The sweetest thing ever when it's just you. Your baby. People joke—slightly nervous—that he treats you like his mother. Following you closely with his big, glossy eyes tilted up to stare at you. Loving. Cuddly. Rests his big head on your lap at night with a great, big sigh. Tired from a long, hard day of protecting his house from squirrels and the stray delivery driver.

But when it comes to others—anyone, really—he’s aggressive. Territorial. All the vets and trainers say that it's his breed. That he just needs to be trained. Exposure therapy. Behavioural. And it works for all of two weeks before he's back to his stubborn self. Snapping at anyone who gets too close to you.

You post warnings on your fence. Your front door. Take precautions when you walk him. Warn anyone who gets close that he doesn't like anyone. Full stop. No exceptions. And it works. Helps ease the stress. He still goes to therapy. To training lessons. But he's smart enough to trick them into thinking he's learning.

And it's fine. People can't get too close to you. To his house. His territory.

Or so you thought.

But he's been acting strange lately.

You caught him barking at something through the fence a few months ago; spittle flying from his muzzle as his lips peeled back, snarling and vicious. If the fence wasn't reinforced, you think he would have broken it down to get at whatever was behind it.

It continued like this for a few days. Each time you went to check and see what was there, all you find is littered cigarettes. The teenage son of your neighbour, you think. He likes to hide in the dense woods so his parents can't find him. You'll talk to him about it later. Ask if he can do it a little further away from the fence so he isn’t disturbing Baby. 

As the days grow, his growls and snarls diminish before stopping outright. In the interim, your unease grows.

It's small—at first. 

He wants to be outside more. Always whining at the back door, scratching at it with his paw. When you let him out, he runs right to that spot by the fence. Sits down, and just stares. When you go out to look, there's nothing there. Just a dark, sprawling coppice. Cigarettes on the ground. But something catches his attention. Keeps it. Holds it.

He leads you to that spot sometimes, too. Nudges you with his big, furry head to your thighs. Shepherding you to the fence, and then sits back, clearly preening. Proud.

"You're mama’s silly boy, aren't you?" you coo, scratching his ears. It must be the neighbour. Maybe a stray deer wandered by. You catch a flash through the tree line. Twin puddles of black peering through the tangled weeds. Your dog perks up, looking towards it. A deer, you think. A stray buck. You huff, patting his head. "Made a new friend, huh?"

But you can't shake the feeling that something else is out there. That something is staring at you.

Nothing, you tell yourself, fighting off a shiver. It's fine. Fine. He sneaks off at night sometimes. You hear him playing in the hallway. Wandering around the house. The tack-tack-tack of his nails against the hardwood as he walks back to your bedroom lulls you back to sleep. You feel the bed dip. Something warm against your back. You sigh, melting into the sheets—

There's nothing to worry about.

He'll protect you.

But the next morning, you find him locked outside. The patio door shut. The deck is dried from the sun, but his fur is wet. It rained last night. You drifted in and out to the patter of it on your window. The soothing weight of his body curling around you—

He must have gotten out in the morning. Rolled around in the grass. But when you put him in the tub later to scrub the rainwater off of his cost, his belly is dry.

It's nothing. He was in bed with you last night. It's fine. Fine. Everything is easy to explain away as coincidence. Nothing usual. The feeling of being watched. The missing food from your fridge. The creaks of the old house at night. Things shifting around—keys missing only to turn up somewhere else. Rodents chewing through your landline. 

The panties you shed, tossing into a corner before getting into the shower going missing—

They’re just—lost in the wash. You must have thrown the leftover food away when you cleaned earlier and forgot. The lingering scent of cigarettes. Smoke in your bed. The cloying scent of loam, humus. Fresh dirt. The stains on your bed. The strange smear in the gusset of your panties when you peel them apart.

Something thick, firm between your thighs—

Fine. You tell yourself. Everything is fine. At best, it's a gas leak. At worst—well.

Baby will protect you. 

Always. 

But the next day, he brings his favourite toy to the back door, asking to be let out, and this isn't—

It's not normal.

He's possessive over his toys. Keeps them on his daybed and refuses to let anyone touch them. Only you. He doesn't bring the. Outside, either.

But when you peer outside a few minutes later, the toy is lying by that spot near the fence. He's sitting down, tail wagging. Happy. Excited. It continues like this for the next few days. He brings his toys to the fence, coming in later, licking his lips. When you brush his teeth at night, you smell something gamey on his breath. Meaty. 

Getting out of bed a few hours later and playing in the hallway. Going to sleep with you at night, but somehow getting out in the early hours of the morning, waiting for you on the patio when you remember the huff of his breath over your neck less than an hour ago—

No. You're just—

Getting the time wrong. It's fine. He'll protect you. He doesn't like anyone but you.

You hear footsteps in the hallway at night next to the click-clack of his nails. When you jump out of bed to check, it's just him. Sitting by the back door, head craned over his shoulder when he heard you coming. His favourite toy is sitting on the ground in front of him. You fight a shiver. The feeling of eyes burning into you churns your stomach.

"I'm going crazy, sweetheart," you coo, but feel the threads of your sanity begin to snap one by one. "But you'll keep me safe, right?"

His tail wags. You pretend not to notice the gap in the patio door. Opened just a crack. You shut it, forcibly telling yourself to remember to close it next time and fight the memories of locking it before settling on the couch to watch old re-runs. You drag him back to bed, burrowing your head into his fur, listening to the thud-thud-thud of his heart in your ear. 

When you dream that night, it's of a big, scarred hand making its way between your thighs. A rasping, masculine voice in your ear commanding you to be good—

You wake up with your thighs sticky, wet. Your cunt pulsing. There's an ache there; a sting. It twinges when you move, tapering into a sore throb as you swing your legs over the side of the bed, woken up by the strange dream—fingers between your thighs, a head resting on your belly, calling you a good girl—and a noise.

A low murmur comes from the living room. You wince with the first several steps, forcing yourself to ignore the uncomfortable feeling between your thighs. The wetness that drips down your leg, some of it already dried, sticking to your skin. It’s fine. You just had a—

A wet dream.

—everything is fine. Fine. Your heart lurches. Lodges in your throat. Each beat feels like a fist against your tissue trying to break down the prison of your flesh to flee. 

You slowly inch toward the hallway, the sound, making excuses for the fear that curdles in your belly. The itch in the back of your head that calls you stupid. Demands you go back to bed. To sleep. You’ll wake up in the morning to Baby slobbering over your chest, drooling as the time ticks away in a slow crawl towards his usual breakfast. 

It’s tempting. The sleep congealing in the corners of your eyes, weighing heavy—molasses-thick—over your sense of awareness: cobwebbed in that strange, uncanny realm of sleep and wakefulness; hypnagogia turning shadows on the walls into human shapes. The whisper of wind into the brassy drawl of a voice. 

Through it all, the prickle rears. Says something isn't right. Hasn't been right for a while now. It's fine. Everything is—

It doesn't make sense at first. Your brain tries to wrap around the images your eyes feed it. Untangling the dizzying sense of confusion that runs along your hindbrain like a jagged knife; grazing tissue, scraping over nerves. The picture comes together quickly. There's no misinterpreting the shapes.

A man is lounging on your couch. Legs kicked up on the coffee table, ankles crossed. The remote is held in one hand as he lazily flicks through the channels on your television screen. The picture of ease. So relaxed, so comfortable in your space, that you begin to feel a little bit like an intruder. A voyeur peering between the curtains.

This feeling is reinforced when you peel your eyes away from the horrifying mask on the man's face—a black balaclava—and find your dog lounging beside him. Resting with his head over this stranger's thick thighs. His head perks up when you approach, tail wagging, but he doesn't get up from his spot. Content to bask in the half-hearted attention the man doles, a hand buried in his fur. Dragging over his ears. Down his back. Monotonous flicks of his thick wrist, nearly the same width as the barrel of a baseball bat.

And that just trembles down your spine in the worst way.

He's the same height as you are sitting down. Takes up two cushions on the couch with his absurd bulk. Massive, you think. And then it all rushes through you. The knife slips into your cognisance.

There's a man in your house. Petting your dog,

your dog who tries to bite the same vet he's had for years. Who trusts, who likes, no one but you—

You make a noise. Something strangled in the back of your throat. Muffed, unable to escape through the clot of your heart getting there first. It tangles around your pericardium and is too late to take back. To swallow down. 

It doesn’t matter, though. 

The man has been watching from the beginning. 

Dark eyes (a dark, black flash between the leaves—) drill into you. Staring. That familiar, unease feeling is back again, creeping up your spine. It's been him the whole time, you know. The thing behind the fence. Must be. The same brand of cigarettes you found on the opposite side is sitting on your coffee table, right beside his feet.

His chest expands with his inhale. You smell stale smoke. Something wild. The scent of the forest after a summer's rain shower.

"Finally up, are you? Thought you were gonna sleep all day." His voice is deep. Brassy. The growling roll of an approaching thundercloud. You shiver. Jerk back, but—

Baby growls.

He's never done that before. Never barked. Never snarled. Never nipped.

But right now, his teeth peel back, muzzle wrinkling as he lifts his lips. And you know it's playful. Seen this look on his face when you throw the ball across the yard. It's just him being his silly self. He won't attack you. Won't maul you. 

The man lifts his hand and your dog limbers up. Shakes. He jumps off the couch and trots toward you. Nothing is threatening in the way he moves. It's the same lumbering gait, the same happy wag to his tail, but he moves himself around you. Stands between you and the only escape.

"Baby—?"

"Taught 'im a few tricks," the man drawls conversationally—like he wasn't a stranger in your house. "Got a good boy on your 'ands. Jus' needed a bit o'trainin'—”

He snaps his fingers and Baby moves. Bumps his head into the back of your thighs. Pushing you. Nudging you toward the man. It’s so horrifying familiar that you find yourself moving without a thought. Following along. 

"He jus' needed a man in the house, didn't he? A father figure—" 

You're going to be sick. Think you would have been already if your heart wasn't lodged tight in your throat, keeping everything down. 

The man lifts his hand. Curls his fingers. 

"C'mon, mommy," he taunts, voice a derisive roll. "Come sit on Daddy's lap. It's movie night tonight."

Baby pushes you forward happily, tail wagging, wagging—

Happier than you’ve ever seen him as this stranger reaches out, grabbing your waist and hauling you onto his lap. You think about fighting immediately, struggling to get out of his hold, but he moves back and the unmistakable, blunt press of a gun sends shivers rolling down your spine. You still instantly. Back drawing tight. Fear is a wet, hot pulse behind your ribs. 

“Don’t fight it, birdie—” You feel the warm, damp press of his mask against the shell of your ear. The ridges of his lips move beneath the fabric as he speaks. 

You hear him inhale, drawing in the scent of your shampoo—your fear: an oily thick miasma pooling behind your ears, against your nape—and feel tears pool against your lashline when a surge of familiarity wells up at the solid, firm weight of his chest against your spine. His thigh slips between yours, spreading them wide over the arch of his muscle. Limp, dizzy, you fall back into his chest when he pulls you in, slotting a burly arm over your ribcage. Locked in tight. A shackle. 

“Ain’t go’ nothin’ t’worry about,” he continues, hips shifting. Moving. And—

It’s a not gun. You know it isn’t. When you whimper, it throbs—

There’s the echo of a groan in his voice when he huffs, lips pursing into a kiss. “Nothin’ at all. C’mon, Baby—” 

And Baby obeys eagerly, jumping up on the couch beside him. His snout is warm, wet, when he presses it to your arm, sniffing. Please, you think, staring into his eyes as tears swell, pooling down your cheeks. Please—

But the man lifts his arm, and Baby circles the cushion before falling against his side with a deep, content sigh. Hope is snuffed out of your chest in an instant. The man’s hand falls to his head, rubbing his skull affectionately. 

“Good boy.” Baby perks. His happiness is a palpable thing that swells around you as he melts, eyes slipping closed. “Gonna be a good boy while mum an’ dad spend some time together, ain't you, boy?”

His arm tightens around your waist. Chin notches over your shoulder as he shifts back, legs kicking out to spread your thighs further apart.

"Now," he drawls, hand sliding down to the mess between your thighs. You shiver against him, toying with the idea of running, fleeing—but he must know. Senses it, maybe. He lifts his hips, pressing the gun into your spine. A threat. A warning. But with the way he swallows you up—broad chest closing in on you, trapping you on all sides—you know it's futile.

He has you.

Your submission makes him purr.

"Baby's sleepin', so now let daddy take care'o mommy—"

[boolger]

A lapdog at a farm - chapter 2

<-former chapter ~ AO3 link ~ next chapter-> I will block any ageless blogs. Call of duty. Explicit, 18+, minors do not interact. read the tags. wc: 6181.

Farmer!John Price x Hybrid!Reader, hybrid! Kyle Gaz Garrick x hybrid! Johnny Soap MacTavish x hybrid! Simon Ghost, John Price x Nikolai.

tags: Rape/non-con elements, dub-con, dog!hybrid!people being kept as pets, alternative universe - farm, dark, farmer!John Price, working-dogs, punishments, mating cycles/rut/heat (no omegaverse), the dove isn't dead but its dying, reader is a brat, knotting, animal tails and ears, mentions of trauma, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, biting, threesome, foursome, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers, chubby reader, reader has a pussy

Author's note: reminder that reader is kinda a bitch at some points, thinking mean, unjustified things about our 141 once in a while. Unreliable narrators, my sinner. Apologies for any grammatical errors , the bad russian and such. So uh, this got waaay longer than intended so here you go. It will be a couple of days before the next chapter, so enjoy this snack for u all, my sinners.

chapter 2: Delivery from the Hybrid's Den!

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“I have a friend coming over for a while,” John softly said next morning, hand resting on your head, fingers stroking your long ears now and again,, “to help us with getting the boys settled.”

You were on the floor, half way beneath the kitchen table, snuggled up against Price’s leg, feeling much more needy, knowing the ‘boys’ as your owner called them, would be delivered later today or tomorrow. They needed to be chipped and Price had asked for a full health check from his vet, as well as vaccinations and dental care. John was a caring owner; the mere fact that he did this from the get go was proof of that. He had done the same when getting you, made sure that any recent wounds or scarring were taken care of - getting your teeth fixed and your nails checked.

You didn’t have much of your fangs left when he got you; your earlier owners had taken those, the memories still haunting you once in a while. They had done it without anesthesia, not even by professionals. Same with your claws, that wasn’t beneath your nails anymore, thanks to former owners as well. Price had gotten the wounds cleaned and fixed up; they had almost grown closed by now. For most of the time that you lived with John, he had made sure your nails were always done nicely, however you wanted them.

John was a good master. You loved him, more than you knew you should, desperate for his attention, acknowledgment and praise. You didn’t want to share him, not with these hounds he had decided to get…

… not with this apparent friend.

You didn’t answer with anything but a displeased sound, tightening your grip on Price’s pants; when he offered you another piece of sausage you were quick to eat it, licking at his fingers while he chuckled. For a moment your tail wagged, eating the food and pressing against his hand.

He couldn’t be serious - abruptly changing so many things? and you were just supposed to accept it? Finally, you replied.

“Do I know your friend?” You didn’t bother to seem excited in any way, your skepticism seeping into your voice like poison. Price took another sip of his tea, not commenting on it.

“You’ve met him before but it’s been years. First year I had you, I reckon. Remember Nikolai?” 

Nikolai. Nikolai. Different faces flashed for your eyes, trying to pinpoint who you had met that bore that name. 

“No,” you finally admitted.

“Can’t blame you, lass. You were a little mess when you met him.”

You let out a huff at his words, embarrassment making your toes curl. It was true, your mind was muddled when it came to the first half year or so together with Price. You had been wary of every single person, desperately acting out and having to wear a muzzle, slowly getting used to the gentleness and rules of John. How he was fair and didn’t change his rules, didn’t punish you without reason.

You heard the front door open, ears peeking up a little, a small bark leaving you on instinct.

“‘Morning,” Laswell called out, making you settle again with a huff. While Laswell was strict and sometimes a meanie, she wasn’t a threat. Only to you and John’s private time.

“Good morning,” John called out, “I’ve made coffee.”

“Ugh if I wasn’t a lesbian I would marry you,” Kate groaned happily, by now so comfortable with John that she simply moved to take a cup in the cupboard, helping herself to the coffee and some food. They had known each other when younger, that was all you knew. Their stories always changed when you asked.

“Morning puppy,” she greeted, leaning over to give you a small pat that you leaned into, tail wagging once more, “are you going to misbehave again today?”

“Hopefully not,” John hummed, picking up his tea cup once more, “Nikolai is arriving in a couple of hours.”

“Ah, your old crush,” Laswell mused happily as she sat down across the table, once again making you wonder how long they had known each other, “going to pull yourself together this time?”

Wait. Crush… crush? Your head whipped up to look at your owner and oh fucking hell, John fucking Price was blushing. You huffed, clearly not pleased at all with this new knowledge.

Wonderful, wasn’t that just fucking wonderful? Now he was going to abandon you fully, to run around being a lovesick puppy and playing with the new hybrids.

“Don’t tease me,” John answered, clearly embarrassed, a rare sight indeed, “that’s none of your business.”

Kate just laughed. You let out a grumble, trying to snuggle even closer to Price, practically clinging to his leg by now. Price returned his hand to your head, petting you once more, looking down at you. You returned his gaze, doing your best puppy eyes, letting out a little whine. He smiled at you, his other hand scratching you beneath your chin.

“It’s been years,” he mused and you were pretty sure that he wasn’t even talking to you, “he had to return to Russia. His mother passed away.”

Russia? A memory appeared in your mind. A small party. Champagne, treats. Praise from Price’s friends and colleagues, attention and love that you had basked in. Other hybrids that sent you longing and lustful looks. A tall, broad man with a loud laugh and a strong accent. Wearing a gold chain. Long hair, rough hands when he scratched you. He would almost make your owner shy with his teasing but he would shower you in love.

“Did I meet him at a party once?” You asked, “big guy, strong accent ? Wearing a gold chain?”

John laughed, “yes, that would indeed be Nikolai.”

Huh. It was not much you could remember about him. You remembered liking him, but despite that, you weren’t really interested in him getting here.

“He is going to help with Soap, Ghost and Gaz,” John then said, almost as if to convince himself that was why he was here. You rolled your eyes at their names. Not that you had any say, you were usually just called different pet names, but you no longer bore the name your mother had once given you. It wasn’t unusual for pets to get their names changed with every new owner. Your legal hybrid name, with John, was Daisy, even though the man rarely ever called you that. He called you so many other names, Princess, Darling, Sweetheart, Birdie and so on. But apparently he had decided not to change these working dogs’ names.

“Sure,” Kate answered with amusement in her voice, taking another sip of the coffee before adding, “whatever you say.”

Price didn’t answer with anything but an annoyed grumble.

“Those are stupid names,” you muttered. A sharp tug on your ear made you yelp, one of your hands grabbing onto his wrist to get him to let go of your furry ear. 

“Be nice, Princess. You’re going to behave, am I understood?” You didn’t meet his eyes, a little whine merely escaped from you.

“She just needs to be shown her place,” Laswell carefully said, John not letting go of your ear, much to your dismay, but he didn’t tug on it - just kept it there as a warning, “maybe they’re better at that.”

“Hopefully they’ll be better at it than me,” he muttered and you whined - the grip didn’t loosen and he didn’t look down at you.

“Nikolai is going to help with that too?” 

“He had ideas, at least.”

Fucking wonderful.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Nikolai was the first of the four men that you already hated, to arrive. 

You stayed inside the house, watching John appear from one of the stables, almost lighting up at the sight of the man who exited the car.

He still looked like the old memory you had of him; big, long black hair and a grin on his face. He was taller than John but not by much, Almost seeming completely opposite to your owner. While John wore working clothes, a grey T-shirt beneath his blue flannel, dirt on his pants, Nikolai was wearing a pair of blue jeans, white T-shirt and leather jacket.

Even inside the house, you could hear the booming man that was Nikolai - he greeted your owner with a loud “John!”, before hugging him, even spinning him around. You couldn’t help but stare; John was far from small but the other man had swung him around like he had been a teenage girl. 

John was blushing like one too. The sight made you curious - just like you wondered how he and Kate met, you wondered how this Nikolai met your owner.

You couldn’t help but wag your tail at how happy they looked. Despite how you hated the idea of the man staying here, even just for a little while, you liked seeing John happy like this.

Then two pairs of eyes suddenly looked directly into the window, both staring at you. It made your ears tip back a little. Your tail kept wagging, eating up the attention. 

When they moved, you moved too - rushing towards the entrance, stopping in the doorframe to the living room. 

“My my, if it isn’t the famous puppy,” Nikolai mused, his Russian accent strong, eyes almost twinkling as he looked you up and down, “up to trouble, da?”

You huffed, crossing your arms, though you felt your tail betray you by wagging a little, “I’m never up to trouble.”

Both of the men laughed, making you growl a little. 

“Unruly - just like last time I met you!” Nikolai mused, looking over at John by his side, “you gave up on training?”

John shook his head, “don’t even get me started, mate.”

“You told enough over phone,” Nikolai answered, waving his hand at John while pushing his shoes off with his feet.

Ah. So he had talked about you with Nikolai already? The fact made you scrunch your nose a little. Maybe Nikolai was just as stupid as John when it came to realizing why you were upset.

Nikolai stepped into your personal sphere with no warning, almost backing you up against the door frame, making you panic and growl a little. Tail no longer wagging - you could see John tense up in the corner of your eye, but you were too distracted by the stranger.

“Nik—“

A part of you expected him to hit you - you had met plenty of strangers with your former owners, who didn’t even let you sniff their hand or anything. Some hurting you and —

He offered his hand. It didn’t hit you, but raised to your nose instead. You squinted at him, before taking a couple of sniffs, still not quite sure what to make of him.

“Don’t like you,” you growled in warning, showing your teeth a little, not even attempting to be polite. 

“You don’t like farm life yet, puppy?” He asked, tipping his head to the side, voice demeaning, stupid smile still on his face. You wanted to slap it off his face. “Stupid little puppy.”

Instead you chomped down on his hand, Price instantly scolding out your name, moving to drag you away. But Nikolai didn’t even flinch - didn't move besides laughing again. 

It made both you and John confused.

“If you want to hurt me, you would have to bite harder, Princess,” Nikolai crooned, “now let go.”

You wanted to piss in his shoes and rip his socks to pieces. Maybe scratch up that leather jacket of his. Yet you found yourself letting go of him, your teeth barely even having made a dent in his skin.

“Get your ass into your room,” John hissed, a redness in his skin that you weren’t sure came from embarrassment or anger from your action.

“No harm done, John,” Nikolai laughed; he scratched you behind your right ear, just a tad to the left and it was like your brain melted for a couple of seconds, your body reacted on its own, tail wagging and right leg moving as well, “she just attempt to be dangerous no?”

John let out a small sound that you weren’t sure  what to make of before he grabbed you by the collar and dragged you away from Nikolai, “and that’s the kind of behaviour I don’t want.”

“He was being mean,” you whined in self defense, unable to not follow the hand dragging you into the living room, “he almost dared me to!”

Perhaps an overstatement, but you already knew what was going to happen the moment that Price pushed you over the armrest of the couch, “I bit him to defend myself!”

“You will not, and I repeat myself, not bite my guests,” he pulled up your skirt and down your panties with such a quick movement that you didn’t get to point out that you didn’t care, one hand grabbing your tail; his other hand collided with your ass cheeks, once, twice and then a third time, before he snapped out, “got it?”

A defiant bark left you, because while you knew it was bad behavior, you also wanted to prove that you weren’t afraid of this Nikolai. You twisted a little, knowing your ass and pussy was basically on display for both men. 

The grip on your tail tightened making you cringe with pain, jaw tensing.

“Apologise.”

You shook your head in defiance, ears hitting your face. Price leant over you a little, hissing out, “I would advise you to apologize, princess. Now.”

A part of you knew he was upset because he liked Nikolai. If he actually had feelings for him, as Kate had pointed out and several things pointed towards, you knew he wouldn’t like being embarrassed too much. Your ass still stung a little.

You were the actual victim here, weren’t you? It wasn’t your fault he decided to change everything you loved and then accept that he had his lost love over, who immediately tried to push your buttons.

“‘m sorry,” you mumbled after two seconds.

“Louder.” John demanded, straightening up, so that you were no longer hidden.

"I'm sorry."

There was silence for a moment - then the sound of a lighter and as you dared to glance over at the bigger man, who was leaning against the door frame, you saw him staring right back at you, a lit cigarette now between his lips.

“Is okay, Lapochka.” He said, stupid smile still on his face.

With that John finally let go off your tail, pulling up your underwear and your skirt down, ignoring your whine. He didn’t even touch your pussy! Didn’t even give you some love!

You pouted as you looked over at them, sliding down from the armrest of the couch, hands going beneath your skirt to rest against your warm skin on your cheeks.

“Sorry Nik,” John once again apologized - as if it was him who John had just spanked! The audacity! You let out a little displeased bark.

“She usually doesn’t bite people,” he continued as he ushered Nikolai as if you weren’t right there, needing love and attention.

“Is okay,” Nikolai answered with a shrug, casting one last glance over at you, smirking for just a second, “some of it was my fault - wanted to see what she would do.”

Asshole.

“Room, princess - now.”

“But he literally ju—“

“I said now.”

“You’re being so fucking mea—“

“Crate then.”

“I’m going, I’m going.” You might have slammed the door to your room, growling as you plopped down on your big fuzzy dog bed. 

It was about 30 minutes later than you dared to wander from the room to the kitchen again, standing in the doorway, watching the two men talk. Eyes moved to watch you again, as you whined and got on your knees. crawling to the two men, shamefully settling between Price’s legs on your knees - tail carefully wagging, sending your owner a pitiful glance.

“‘m sorry,” you whimpered, knowing John was easy to sweeten up, “‘m sorry, sir.”

A hand moved down to scratch you, though it wasn’t John’s-  you carefully licked his hand, a pleased rumble leaving the guest.

“Smart one,” he muttered, giving your cheek a little pinch, “knows how to be sweet, da?”

“Always,” John answered, looking down at you with his usual loving eyes, “soft lass is hard  to stay mad at.”

“Perhaps you need some more company,” Nikolai pointed out, “I worked with military pets before, they’re much different than you, milaya.”

“We don’t need them,” you whined, having no idea what Nikolai had just called you, “John will forget about me, will be too busy, he –”

John’s foot ever so gently pushed against your stomach, “don’t start that again.”

“Just insecure,” Nikolai suggested, making you huff.

“Am not,” you argued, but you still nuzzled closer to John, starting to move your hands to his inner thighs, moving to look up the best you could, looking from under the edge of the table, sweetening your voice a little, “It’s just a mistake, that’s all.”

“Spoiled, that’s what you are, darling,” John pointed out, but he still reached out to gently pat your head, “however, the boys will be here in a couple of hours and there is nothing you can do about it.”

You whined pitifully at his words, upset that your clear dissatisfaction with them joining the farm wasn’t clear. It was like John didn’t want to realize at all that he didn’t need to stay out on this farm. He needed to go back to the city, to the fancy penthouse apartment, to the parties that lasted out to the late hours of the night, where you could gossip with all the other hybrids.

“Milaya,” Nikolai repeated again, rustling with something in his jacket that hung over the back of the chair he was currently sitting on, pulling a little package from it. You watched curiously, though trying to seem disinterested. That was until he opened it and the most wonderful, mouthwatering scent you had smelled in a while appeared and you instantly moved from between John’s legs to Nikolai’s, making your owner chuckle.

The piece of jerky looking meat that Nikolai held in between his thumb and pointer finger, looked simple but oh the smell of it made it known that it was good.

“You behave and let us look through papers now, da?” 

“Yes,” you said, unable to look away or stop your tail from wagging, “I’ll behave.” 

The moment Nikolai offered you the piece, you were on it, barely missing his fingers with your teeth as you stole it from his grip. Nikolai was chuckling, putting the bag back into his jacket, while you chewed, a pleased moan leaving you as you settled beneath the table. 

Hopefully these mutts would prove themselves too difficult - so that John would send them away again. You would happily wave goodbye to them. 

With the sweet aftertaste of the meat in your mouth and their soft voices discussing fences, you closed your eyes.

You weren’t going to help with the pack settling in - that was for sure.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

You barely got used to your owner’s crush, before there were once again new things happening. Kate appeared, greeting Nikolai like an old friend as well. You hadn’t figured out much about the man, other than he had worked with a lot of hybrids throughout the years. And with helicopters. However that all fit together, you didn’t know… didn’t really care.

The big truck that arrived a couple of hours later, stood out against the farm houses; a colorful logo was painted on the otherwise steel gray vehicle.

THE HYBRID’S DEN! helping owners find their perfect hybrid pet since 1960!

You remembered seeing their logos everywhere when you were sold to the auction, years ago. The auction houses and facilities had often felt like an intermission from your former life to your new; never knowing what was going to happen, treated with the minimal care, but kept healthy enough for the auctions. 

The staff wore the colorful logo on their black uniforms, exciting the truck a few moments later. You almost wanted to tell them to ‘get the fuck back into that truck and drive off’ again, but you figured it wouldn’t result in them actually doing so.

You kept your distance, standing on the steps of the front door - strategically keeping Nikolai between you and the closed metal crates that were inside the truck. There were nothing more than a few air holes in the boxes, from where some different sounds appeared. Barks and a growl or two, though they all sounded a little slurred. Nikolai moved, giving you a better look at them, as he joined John who was nodding along to some of the information, while looking through and signing some papers. Though you were mostly distracted by the crates, you could hear some of their conversation, catching words like sedated, muzzles, stressed. Your own trip hadn’t been nice either but a part of you wanted to point out to your owner that this only proved your point of this being a bad idea.

Some of the auction workers helped move the crates to one of the bigger empty sheds that Price had apparently been renovating without your knowledge. So apparently not so empty any longer. Not that it had been hard to do that, you ignored most of the different renovating and building jobs that both John and the helpers did.

Still… he could have told you. God, did your master tell you nothing anymore? It didn’t really help your mood, your growing annoyance clearly amusing for Nikolai if his smiles back at you were anything to go by.

Despite your repeated frustration with this entire situation and these new hybrids’ mere existence, you followed along inside the shed. It was nice… Isolated, with a tiny bathroom, an area padded with mattresses, which was clearly for them to sleep together, pillows, blankets… you wanted that too. Sure, you had loads, but this only made you want more, want more from Price, so that he could prove he still loved you. 

There was a radiator, several windows, lamps and electricity outlets. You scrunch your nose with displeasure. They didn’t deserve that. At least they weren’t inside the main house. 

There was a little notch in the other corner opposite the bed area, almost like a tiny expansion, another door next to it; it was almost like a small horse stall - a deep layer of hay covered the floor. You didn’t even step into the place, but you knew the hay would itch.

You wanted it. Not the itching of the hay, but the entire place, simply for the sake of having it, so that they couldn’t. Speaking of them, you watched from the main entrance as the metal boxes were opened.

The Belgian malinois and German Shepherd mix was the first one to stumble out of the box; he fell two steps later, directly into the hay, a deep sigh leaving him, eyes darting around. You could barely see him from the amount of people inside the stall. 

“It’s alright, Gaz,” Price comforted, while you stayed in the door, keeping his distance to the hybrid, “You’re okay, boy.”

Gaz didn’t answer, just panted a little, ears tipped backwards - his eyes looked a little blown from what you could see.

“When will the sedatives wear off?” Laswell asked one of the workers, but you didn’t look at them, eyes instead at the other hybrid. 

When you had arrived, you had been scared and angry, drugged as well. But you had been alone. While you grew up with your parents, in a nice enough place, you hadn’t seen them for years - and while you had befriended a lot of other hybrids throughout the years, you had never been a part of a “pack”. You were alone — but this Gaz wasn’t and a part of you envied him, even for that.

“In an hour or two,” the worker replied, pulling you from your deeper thoughts, “they weren’t too happy to settle down before we left. It was necessary.”

A small bark left the man in the hay. It was answered by the two other hybrids, who still hadn’t come out of their respective boxes. Nikolai gently tapped on the top of one of the boxes with a knuckle.

“Come join your friend,” the Russian suggested, voice not as loud as earlier.

A moment later the border collie mix, Soap, crawled out of his box, eyes instantly on Gaz, letting himself lay halfway on top of the other. A little growl leaving him, muffled from behind the mask. Not even a second later, Ghost got out of the last crate. The Great Pyrenees almost got on his legs, growling despite the muzzle and swaying from the drugs.

You watched the staff pull back the metal boxes, letting the hybrids get some space. Ghost didn’t stay on his legs for too long, eventually sitting down next to his pack mates, the lower half of his face hidden from view as he looked around the shed.

His gaze stopped at you; you were unable to sense the reaction from seeing you again, if there even was any.

“We’ll let you have some minutes, okay? Then we’ll take the muzzles off.” John gently offered, pulling the giant from the moment, so that he looked away, giving Price a small nod. Your owner was at the edge of the hay filled area but he didn’t step into it.

You stepped back, letting the staff members from the auction pull away the boxes, Laswell and another farm worker helping them. Nikolai looked from the pack, then over his shoulder at you, barely even trying to hide a smile.

Then he winked. You sent him an unimpressed look back, tipping your chin up a little, looking away from the three hybrids in the hay, pretending you weren’t curious about them.

Some more rustling in the hay and then a half croaked, “mah held hurts,” left Soap, voice a little slurred - you couldn’t help but look over at him. His accent was weird. His ears were tipped down, some hay already stuck in his hair. With the pathetic look on his face you didn’t understand how he was supposed to be a big bad soldier.

You weren’t being petty at all.

“It’s the sedatives,” John calmly answered the hybrid, who let out a big breath from behind the muzzle.

“If I take the muzzle off, will you behave?”

“We have water for you,” Nikolai added, keeping his distance - you kept him in between you and the dogs, not risking anything. You trusted the men to be able to defend themselves. But with no claws or fangs, you weren’t a fighter - more a runner. Even if you didn’t like running.

The two muzzled ones, Soap and Ghost, sent each other a look - but it was Gaz, half hidden beneath Soap, who let out a tired “please.”

Ghost gave a small nod then. John stepped into the hay, unhurried as to not spook them, and it was Ghost who tipped his head down first to let Price open the lock with a small key. The moment he was free, he smacked his cracked and dry looking lips. 

Clearly, the man had never heard of chapstick.

Though, much more apparent, where the colony of scars on his lower half of the face. Trailing from around the lips, one over the nose as well - cheeks and chin. As he smacked his lips, you saw he had lost a fang in the bottom of his mouth. It wasn’t just sanded down like yours, the tooth was fully missing.

Price repeated the action with Soap, the hybrid instantly opening his mouth wide with a yawn, his jaw even making a popping wound.

Nikolai appeared with three bottles of water from a little cooler in the shed - you didn’t have your own cooler, which meant you would be demanding one… not that you needed it but still — giving the hybrids each one, that was always immediately opened. Gaz pushed Soap away and sat up too, while John backed away.

“My name is John Price -we met shortly at the auction. I’m the owner of the farm and you will all answer to me. Got it?”

“Yes sir.” For a moment you were impressed with the three hybrids’ synchronized answers. Only a short moment however. They were probably just beasts trained to answer like that. Yeah, yeah, you could do that too, if you wanted. But you didn’t.

“This is Nikolai, my friend, he will stay with me for a while, helping you all to settle in properly. You will follow his orders too - as well as a mean looking woman, Kate Laswell, who will appear at some point.” Humour tipped into the last part making Soap snort and Gaz give out a half-slurred giggle, while Ghost just let out a grunt.

“And this,” Price suddenly turned over to you, looking a little amused from the distance you kept between all of them, “is my pet, Daisy.” 

“Well hellooo, bonnie lass,” Soap said, his tail immediately wagging, grinning at you, as he slurred, “aren’t ye a sight for sore eyes.”

Nikolai and John dared to laugh at his words, his rather pathetic attempt at being charming, while you growled, watching Soap get an elbow in the side from Gaz, while Simon just stared, almost differently than the scot, like a hungry beast. If you were fully inside the shed, you might be able to smell if they were turned on. Disgusting. 

“Come’ere, sweetheart,” John crooned, clearly pleased with the reactions from the men, while you scrunch your nose, tipping your chin up a little - giving it a shake to reject the command.

“Do not be like that, milaya,” Nikolai suggested, “thought you were going to behave, no?”

You just growled a little again, unable to help your tail go between your legs a little; you didn’t really want to be spanked again, but you didn’t really want to become acquainted with these hybrids either.

“My princess isn’t too pleased with you lot being here,” John calmly explained without taking his eyes off you - they were still all staring at you - as John raised a hand, making a ‘come-hither’ motion that had you swallowing some spit, “but she isn’t going to chase away any wolves, are ye, pet?”

You huffed, crossing your arms before stepping inside the shed. The scent in there was nice and clean, even with the vague scent of the newcomers, and you walked to John, stopping halfway hidden by him.

However, as John’s arm snaked around your soft waist in a strong grip, you whimpered as you were pulled forward a little, unable to hide behind him. Both Gaz and Soap were wagging their tails at you, while you tried ignoring the scent of the room the best you can.

“I’m expecting you all to get along - and not hurt each other too badly, understood?”

While the others answered in agreement you just hid your face in his shoulder, twisting a little in his grip.

“No playin’ too rough,” Nikolai added, “Puppy isn’t used to other hybrids.”

“I am!” you snapped, “Just not…”

The shed was quiet for a moment as you mulled over your next words. What to call them. Military dogs. Strays. Mutts, un –

“Not what?” Nikolai almost seemed entertained by your declaration and you looked away, before finally mumbling.

“... working dogs.”

Simon huffed. You shot him a sharp look that he didn’t really seem to be affected by, in any way.

“I’m sure you all will get along,” John just mused, before looking down at his watch, “A certain princess has become too bored now we’re no longer in the city -” he ignored your mutter of ‘have not’, “- and I can’t entertain her all the time. Mentally or sexually.” 

You whined with embarrassment, a little angry growl seeping into it, but Price didn’t really react, barely moved as you twisted in his grip, ignoring the grin of the several males in the house. 

“ - Now, I will leave you three to get acclimated a little. But, there are a couple of rules that I expect you all to follow, if not there will be punishments.”

Synchronized nods. You still twisted, digging your fingers into his arm to no avail - then a hand snagged onto your collar from behind, choking you shortly as you were pulled back, Nikolai pressing against your back. Now free, Price pointed to a little map over the area, that you hadn’t noticed on the wall.

“Your jobs will essentially be to help keep the place safe. We have had problems with wolves and foxes, and so has the neighbors, since there lives a bunch in the area. You three will help keeping them away and Soap will help around my sheeps and goats in particular, given you’re a herding dog–”

Soap nodded, tail wagging, all three dogs staring at the map intensely.

“- I will find other things for the two of you to help with as well, but your main focus will be on keeping the animals - and the rest of us - safe. One of the neighbors got some horses stolen not too long ago. I would like to avoid that as well.”

You didn’t even know that. What you did know, however, was the heat of Nikolai’s body behind you, keeping you close and tethered so that you couldn’t run off.

“Most of the wildlife will go away if intimidated, but at times you might need to attack them. I am not going to give you any firearms yet though,” John looked over at them, his voice  firmer than you usually heard it, “That will come along the way, if needed. We can discuss other weapons later on.”

The mere idea of John giving them any kinds of weapon made you want to throw up - or throw a fit. Had he gone fuckin’ mad?? giving them guns? They were going to shoot everyone, going to kill John and you. You really didn’t want to die.

“My farm includes these - and these fields. You will not and I repeat not, leave my land without a valid reason. There will be punishments if you do - you will all be given collars like another certain puppy–” all eyes watched you for a moment and though, you wanted to hide  your face in your hands, you didn’t, merely crossed your arms, ignoring the low laughter from Nikolai behind you, “that are fitted with trackers, so I will know if you do.”

Great. So hoping for them to run off wasn’t a possibility for now.

“Biting or attacking my staff in any way will result in severe punishments. You will lose privileges if you don’t do as told, without a valid reason. Is that understood?”

“Yessir.” 

“Good boys. Now, these upcoming days you will most likely be following me or Laswell around, while we get you in on all these. All dinners will be eaten in the main house and you will be given keys once I get them made one of these upcoming days. I will give you a couple of hours now –” Price looked down at his wrist watch, “Then call you in, an hour or two before dinner, so that you all can shower. Any injuries, allergies or anything that the Hybrids’ Den didn’t write down, that I need to know?”

They all shook their heads, behaving like synchronized swimmers in your opinion. 

“Good. You’re all free to relax here or explore the farm if you wish so, when the drugs wear off.” 

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

As you entered the farm house, you shrugged off your jacket and abandoned your shoes in the entrance, not caring to clean up after you, ignoring John’s irked huff.

“Insane!” you declared, walking further into the house, “You’ve gone insane! You’re all going to forget about me and those horny knotted mutts will be all up in my business!”

You flopped down on the couch, face first, continuing your ranting into the fabric.

“I might as well barricade myself inside my room - Because I dont have a tiny house!! but guns! SURE ! give them guns!” Your voice was muffled, but you were, perhaps a tad dramatically, loud in your ranting. You could just make out whispering between the two men but you didn’t care… not until you were forced to, quite literally.

“Little puppy,” Nikolai’s accent was heavy - his body even heavier as he settled on the back of your thighs, a fist coming to rest next to your head, that kept his full body weight from you, “Throwing a fit again, da?” 

You could feel the slight bulge against your fat ass, making you swallow - and tail wag, hitting Nikolai against the thighs, making the man chuckle. John as well, who settled down with a cigar in one of the arm chairs opposite the couch. You didn’t even need to look to know that he watched as Nikolai tugged at your skirt.

[gingersxng]

Puppy Love

Pairing: f!reader cocker spaniel hybrid x Ateez big!dog hybrids

Genre: smut 18+, fluff

Summary: how would the members act around you when you’re in heat? Some of them can handle it better than others but some have it a bit tougher..

Notes: breeding, breeding kink, pregnancy, bigdick!yungi, knotting, unprotected sex (don’t), degrading, praising, manhandling, marking, heat, much testosterone, aggression, muzzling, fighting, oral, anal sex, cuddling, kissing, bulge kink, scenting, humping, lots of creampies, teasing, bondage. May have forgot something!

a/n: this has been in the making for awhile and I’m finally done and before anyone comes at me.. I know I didn’t make Yunho a golden retriever, cause in this case I felt like a golden isn’t that big, I feel like a Pyrenees dog suits him better. They’re bigger and looks almost like a golden. Thank you!

Words: ??

Akita!hybrid Hongjoong

Hongjoong is a dominant akita hybrid.

He will stand between you and danger, growling and baring his teeth.

He likes to protect you and keep you close, always by his side.

Hongjoong is a bit rough in the bedroom.

He likes to be a bit aggressive and manhandle you.

He is not afraid to mark you, leaving little bruises and hickeys.

He likes when you are on your hands and knees, your ass in the air and your tail raised.

He likes to grab your hips and pound into your pussy, his cock stretching you.

Hongjoong loves taking control and being dominant.

He will pull you onto his cock and have you sit there, your tight heat enveloping him.

Hongjoong loves it when you ride him.

He likes seeing the faces and noises you make and how your tits bounce as you fuck yourself on his dick.

He loves hearing you beg and moan his name, your pretty mouth open and spit drooling down your chin.

Hongjoong also is into breeding kink.

He loves the idea of filling you up with his cum and knocking you up.

His eyes will be glued to your stomach and he will have a hand on it, rubbing the small bump.

Hongjoong would dote on you and take care of you throughout the pregnancy and after the pups are born.

The akita hybrid would be extremely protective and will growl at anyone who gets near you and his pups.

Bauceron!hybrid Seonghwa

Seonghwa is a pervy and dominant bauceron hybrid who loves to fuck..

He is a dom.

Seonghwa is addicted to how good your pussy feels around him, so much so that he could stay inside you for hours at a time.

He wouldn't even care if his cum was already gushing out of your hole, he wanted to keep you on his cock and locked to him, he wanted to pump your little tummy full of his puppies.

The sight of your body, so small and delicate compared to his own, it made him wanna fuck you till you broke.

Seonghwa also loves to fuck you in the living room where anyone could walk in and see you getting destroyed by him, the thought of other people watching made him cum so hard.

But he don’t want anyone else to touch you, only him, he was the only one allowed to fuck you and make you his.

He loves to mark you up, his big teeth would sink into the junction between your neck and shoulder while his knot would be lodged deep inside of you, he liked the taste of blood and seeing the dark bruise blossom over the bite mark.

It makes his alpha instincts purr happily, knowing that the others would be able to smell him on you and they wouldn't even dare try and touch you.

Seonghwa is just obsessed with breeding you and seeing the proof of his cum dripping out of you, he couldn’t get enough.

All perverse actions aside, when he finally got to be a father he would be the softest and happiest ever, he would protect you and the puppies at all costs and do everything to keep you safe.

Pyrenees!hybrid Yunho

Yunho is an excited pyrenees hybrid.

He is constantly bouncing around and wants to do something.

He likes to play games with you and chase each other around the house, his fluffy ears twitching and his tail wagging.

Yunho is a big dom.

He will take charge and flip you over onto your hands and knees and pound into your pussy.

His cock is slightly bigger than a human's and he will make you beg and cry out.

Yunho is a breed and breeding kink kind of hybrid.

He will always have his hands on your hips, squeezing the skin, and his eyes glued to your ass and pussy.

He has no problem with breeding you.

When you are in heat, he is more than happy to mount you and breed you, his cock pushing inside and his knot growing.

He loves to press down onto the huge bulge under your skin, feeling how deep inside he is, all the way up in your cervix.

He doesn’t care who is around when his dick is buried inside of you. As long as he gets to fuck you full.

Aftercare is a must for Yunho, he loves being rough with you but he always feels that he needs to show you the double amount of love and affection afterwards instead.

He’ll cuddle you in his arms, his warm chest calming you down after your highs.

Will be very protective around you and your puppies, but won’t be as aggressive towards other males as the other hybrids.

Dobermann!hybrid Yeosang

Yeosang is a very laid back but kinda rough dobermann hybrid.

He’s another hybrid that’s very protective over you and would do anything to keep you out of trouble.

He’s guarding you day and night.

In bed he’s very rough but also gentle time to time, there’s very much biting and marking during sex, he loves to sink his long whites into your skin and hear you whimper.

He’s more a dom than a sub.

He would never call you any degrading words ever, he would praise you to the fullest.

He loves to fuck you missionary when he can see your pretty eyes look up at him when he puts his cum into you.

He loves when you tug at his pointy ears as he goes rougher and harder, it gives him more confidence.

People would say he wouldn’t hurt a fly but this hybrid can switch from cute to scary very quick.

Tho he has a soft side he can get aggressive when his hormones are at its highest, he often ends up in a fight with some of the other hybrids when they’re in heat and is forced to wear a muzzle until he’s calmed down.

Nothing can come in the way of you two, he’s overly protective of you especially when you’re pregnant with his litter.

His little tail is wagging when he see how safe you feel in his presence.

Husky!hybrid San

San is an soft and laid back husky hybrid.

He also loves to play with you and chase you around, nipping at your curly ears and tail.

Once he has you pinned under him, he will rub himself all over you, scenting you with his natural husky smell.

He loves to eat your pussy, his long tongue lapping and licking your folds.

He has no shame, his big ice blue eyes staring up at you as his tongue swirls around your clit.

You love his perfectly dorito shaped ears and how his tail wags when he pleases you.

You don’t mind giving him attention and loving on him, letting him hump your leg and grind his cock into you.

He has no problem cumming early and then wanting to go again and again.

He is a very happy boy and has no shame. He doesn't care what others think and has no boundaries.

San is a switch.

He loves when you ride his cock, bouncing on his dick and grinding down on him.

He likes the sight of your tits bouncing and his cock disappearing inside of your pussy.

San is a bit possessive and a bit clingy. He will constantly be attached to you and has no problem scenting you, especially around other male hybrids.

No one is to touch his bitch!

He will give them a warning growl and glare, maybe even give them the “wolf smile”.

A real gentleman through your pregnancy, he’ll literally be on his knees for you and be very gentle with you.

Loves to caress your swollen belly, maybe even talk to it.

San will also give you little kisses and lick at your cheek and ears, nipping playfully and tugging.

He is the perfect daddy.

Great Dane!hybrid Mingi

Mingi is a big and intimidating looking but actually is a softy and himbo great dane hybrid.

His sex drive is off the charts tho and when he met you, a small cocker spaniel hybrid his hormones went through the roof.

He’d be kinda rough with you in bed and let’s not talk about his big cock pounding into your small cunt from behind..

He uses his power and big body as an advantage to manhandle you and hold you in place.

Mingi is an Alpha and a proud one. He loves when you get needy and clingy and even more needy during your heat, soaking wet and begging for his knot and cum.

He loves seeing your belly swell and your body change to accommodate his pups.

Mingi also loves to breed your ass, his long thick cock stuffing your hole full of his cum as you moan and whine under him.

He likes to be a little degrading, calling you names like slut and whore while he fucks you, making sure you know your place and that you are only there for him and his pleasure.

He likes to leave bruises on you, marking his territory, making sure everyone knows you belong to him. Sometimes tho he gets a little to testosterony and actually hurts you, a week or two with a muzzle usually helps him calm down.

When you’re pregnant with his pups, he is the most protective out of the hybrids. Usually shouts at strangers to “fuck off” with his deep strong voice when they’re nearing you.

Mingi has his nose pressed into your stomach every night, purring and cooing to his pups inside of you.

He takes care of you throughout the pregnancy and then he spoils you even more once the pups are born.

Mingi is all about you and the pups and you couldn't ask for anything better, and if someone as much as come near you or the puppies, the guard dog instincts kick in.

Dalmatian!hybrid Wooyoung

Wooyoung is a dalmatian hybrid and he is the biggest flirt.

He will constantly flirt with you and touch you, his hands running over your body.

Wooyoung will be the one to initiate sex.

He will always have a hand on your thigh or waist and will be the first to kiss you.

He is a switch.

He likes to take and be in charge but will also enjoy it when you take control and use him for your pleasure.

He likes being a good boy.

Wooyoung would enjoy being tied up and restrained, forced to just lay there and take your cunt.

He likes it when you sit on his face and use him.

You are never bored with Wooyoung around.

He is a very active person and enjoys having fun.

He is playful and loves to cuddle. Wooyoung would enjoy being tied up and restrained, forced to just lay there and take your cunt.

He would make you chase him around and wrestle, tackling you and pressing his nose into your neck and shoulder, breathing in your scent.

Wooyoung loves being taken care of, but he loves taking care of you as much.

He likes to act spoiled and have his head in your lap as you play with his hair as he whisper sweet nothings to you.

He’s one of the calmer hybrids when it comes to you being pregnant, as long as strangers don’t come too close to you, then he may have to step up but as long as they keep their distance it’s not a problem.

He’ll love to play with the pups and help as much as he can, he shows them the do’s and don’ts and how to be a good boy/girl just like their father.

You couldn't ask for anything else from this boy.

Leonberger!hybrid Jongho

Jongho is a big soft yet serious leonberger hybrid.

He loves spending time with you, just doing lazy stuff.

He has no shame when it comes to sex.

He is constantly teasing you and gives you stares.

Jongho is a huge dom.

He likes to take charge and use you.

He likes to tie you up and tease you.

Jongho also loves to praise you for being a good little girl.

Jongho loves eating pussy.

He can do it for hours.

He has a lot of energy and can last forever.

He loves the taste of your juices and can spend the entire night eating you out, his tongue deep inside of you.

He enjoys having you sit on his face and grind your pussy against him.

But to be honest he rather fuck you real good instead, giving you his pups.

He won’t be too protective over you but one wrong move and it’s over, doesn’t like going into conflicts but if he has to he will.

Jongho is an extremely caring hybrid and will always be there to cuddle and comfort you and the puppies, showering you in love and kisses.

He is an absolute giant sweetheart.

[dmitriene]

HEADCANONS ABOUT HOW SIMON RILEY, JOHNNY MACTAVISH AND JOHN PRICE SHOW THEIR LOVE TO YOU.

cw: tooth rotting fluff, comfort, vague smut (johnny's part), maybe a bit of emotional hurt on simon's part (not reader experience), established relationship, kisses, marking, intimacy, touching, pet names, everyone of them can seem slightly ooc, confessions, no femenine terms, just a big amount of love. pairing: bf simon, johnny and john x gn reader

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

SIMON GHOST RILEY:

SIMON'S love language is as gentle as it can be for a man of his coolness and frightening size, whose feelings are buried behind a broken ribcage, a place colder than russia, nothing more than the insides of a real ghost, but that doesn't mean he doesn't deserve love, that he can't be meek.

simon is meager with words, and you don’t blame him, you’re not in a hurry to open an old wound without knowing how it will turn out for you, so you give him time, he himself comes to you with affection, like a dog with his muzzle lowered into accepting warm palms, and you carefully stroke him, whisper reverent declarations of love, without demanding an answer, because one look from his dark, flaming eyes is enough to understand the depth of his affection. this does not stop simon from spending time and money on you, a little embarrassed, afraid that it will look awkward and strange from the outside — but you accept all the tiny manifestations of his love in gifts, new clothes, bouquets of flowers, allowing him to gradually teach what you like and what don't, and every time he gets better, more quickly he reaches out to express his gratitude for your love for him. gradually, the need to admit it trembles on its own, his tongue is knotted with the desire to voice these three words, but he constantly puts it off until later, sets it aside for a few minutes later, promises himself that on a certain day, evening, in a certain place, maybe a restaurant, he'll confesses to you for the first time and forever, but in the right moment he is overcome by such fear that his heart seems to want to come out of his throat, the tips of his fingers sting from the cold and makes them painfully curl into a whitened fist under the table, and he says again to himself — “later, tomorrow, next week„ just to confess this night. it’s been dark outside the window for a long time, your body is enveloped in soft sheets and a warm blanket, warming a little worse than simon’s body next to you, a twisted ball of muscles just to lay his head on your chest, listening to the heartbeat of your heart, he thinks that you’re sleeping, he consoles himself with this thought, while the warm alcohol he drank earlier is flows through his veins and tempting him to take a desperate step, for him this is a cliff, because he does not suspect that this is actually a new streak, but one way or another he firmly goes to stop right in the face of the abyss and wheeze out tensely — “i love you„ he is sure that you are sleeping, he is sure based on the peaceful beating of your heart and the heaving of your chest, but when your hand silently rises and runs through his blond hair, tangling in the strands and sliding to the back of his head to press his face deeper into your chest, tracing a path to his jaw to scoop, his chest bursts at the seams and suddenly blossoms, following the words spoken from your lips — “i love you too, simon„ and your palm burns from the warm moisture of the salty tears that left his eyes for the first time.

JOHNNY SOAP MACTAVISH

JOHNNY'S love language is boyish, bright and daring, like the lights in his blue eyes, a flame that does not burn, but warms, as well as his tremulous touches, bordering on the edge of too enthusiastic, hasty, as if an little puppy running around your legs and whose eyes are focused only on you, he is not interested in anyone else, only you. he feels like a bright flash, as dazzling as his bright smiles, causing his eyes to squint pleasantly at the edges when he looks at you and openly chuckles when you scold him for not being able to hold back even when in public, a massive hand brazenly examines your butt and periodically even squeezes your clothed flesh, and how can you be angry with him when he purrs so flirtatiously, sickly sweetly — “sorry, honey, couldnae handle myself, coud a? ye juist leuk sae pretty„ a real devil, but one way or another, yours, so you allow him to express his love for you in touches that make areas of your skin burn and remember the imprints of his wide fingers, in hot kisses that heat your lips and make them tingle while his tongue intertwines with yours, and your teeth collide and clash in an absurd hurry. johnny does not skimp on signs and, be it his views or words, actions — he is active more like a boy than a man, with a vague, almost wolfish grin, plucking and giving you a single street flower, something small, but so charming, sprinkled sweet words that sizzle on your tongue like candy every time you listen to his speech — “a pretty flower for the love o ma life„ but johnny becomes even more loving at home, it’s amazing how much more affectionate and soft he becomes as soon as you cross the threshold, that insolence, that sparkle — recede to demonstrate his obedience, he sticks to you from the back, his hands constantly squeeze you in his arms, not letting you go from his muscular body even when you are busy with something and scold him for it — “johnny, baby, you're stopping me from laying out the dishes„ but he doesn’t care at all, there is endless adoration in baby blue eyes, he places his chin on your shoulder and bats his eyelashes in a ridiculously seductive way, making you sigh heavily one way or another and drop whatever you were doing, because there is nothing wrong with giving him a little more attention, no matter that it always ends the same way, in the same scenario where you both end up in bed for the whole day ahead. johnny will endlessly cover your body with soft kisses, somewhere biting the skin, somewhere running his tongue, despite the light layer of sweat on your body and the possible unpleasant saltiness, anyways, these are all the tricks of his early actions, but you can’t say a word, except to bury your fingers in his chocolate strands of hair, hidden behind the blanket that covers his body, while he lies half weighted on you and looks into your eyes with a slight squint, kissing, biting and purring again and again — “a love ye„

JOHN PRICE

JOHN'S love language is courteous, confident that he knows how to behave around the person he wants to take care of and whom he loves, this can be seen not only in his words or actions, but even in the warm, peaceful look and stern aura that follows him always and everywhere, and you immediately understand that this is the man who can not only care about you, but also fulfill your every whim. sometimes, looking at him, everything around begins to seem somehow surreal — too good to be true and at the same time enough to remain true, he knows how to not only appreciate people, but also take care of them, support, cherish, everything you can dream of and what his partner, you, knows better than anyone. he does not hesitate and does not regret when it comes to financial expenses — do you want to buy something for your home? you know where his bank card is, as a last resort, send him a list, do you want to buy something for yourself? he will be more than happy to let you do this and later find out about your new purchases out of pure interest, are you interested in going on vacation somewhere with him? john hasn’t rested for a long time and is more than happy with this idea, the main thing is tell him where and for how long, he’ll take care of the rest himself. you may not lift a finger once in your relationship, but this does not mean that he will not be happy if you do something around the house, go grocery shopping, naturally, he usually insists on accompanying you if you need to go somewhere, not because mistrust, but out of care, an instinct instilled in him as a captain responsible for his soldiers, but you are not just a person under his supervision and control, you are a person who has taken his love and devotion for yourself. he loves to please you, strives to support you in any endeavors, hobbies, or just during sudden mood swings, john focuses most of his energy and time on you as a priest would do with the deity he worships, and if there was the same scenario here, he would have no qualms about sacrificing everything to get your blessing, and this is the man who would kneel down in front of you on both knees without shame. it’s also worth noting that john is not at all embarrassed by the demonstration of his love in public, nor by other people’s glances, ordinary or sideways, he is never embarrassed to walk with you by the hand, bend down to softly kiss you on the lips, scratching your skin with his facial hair and smiling warmly, or even hold you on his lap — the only thing he is focused on at these moments is you, especially if it is a special day for joint relaxation — sit at home, go somewhere, have dinner in a good restaurant. the main thing is to be prepared for the possibility that he will not let go of your hand for a minute, stroking the back of it with his thumb and listening to any of your babbles and stories, his blue eyes are focused on your face, the corners of his lips are stretched in a smile and are lost against the background of how his beard and mustache stretch, while he presses your fingers to his lips and gently kisses them up to the knuckles, each time awakening butterflies in your stomach that never get rest in his presence, especially when he whispers in a slightly smoky, but so gentle voice — “i love you so much, dear, your voice is the loveliest sound for me„

[seaspringangel]

a place along the flowers — tartaglia

summary: you give your loving boyfriend the greatest birthday gift of all time in a field of flowers.

word count: 1.9k

content warnings: fem!reader ✦ reader wears a dress ✦ childe is called by his birth name ✦ outdoor sex ✦ fingering ✦ biting ✦ creampie ✦ some possessiveness ✦  pet names (love / good girl / baby) ✦ childe is a needy feral freak but that’s why we love him 

notes: belated bday gift for the ginger-haired menace <3

In the summer haze, Ajax laid his head in your lap and breathed you in.

Flowers surrounded the both of you, but to him, you were the meadow's loveliest one, a perfect bloom for his flaming, hungry teeth to tear into.

Because for every berry he ate from your fingers, Ajax was determined to leave behind a small, stinging nip with his teeth, soothing each little nick with nectar-sweetened kisses.

“If you keep on doing that,” you grumbled down at him, his long legs stretched out in the long grass without a care, “I’m shoving these berries down your throat and leaving you here.”

Ajax grinned up at you then, his smile as saccharine as the berry juices staining the corner of his mouth, a celebration of summer blotted much like blood.

“Sorry,” he murmured, but his tone was as light as the summer breeze playing in his hair. “Guess I’m too hungry.”

You squished his face, making his freckles bunch together like a cluster of starry apples. Ajax only peered up at you innocently, his eyes sparkling. He truly was as adorable as he was irritating, and you thought about taking a bite out of him as revenge, but you knew doing that would only thrill him into acting up even more. 

“And annoyingly spoiled. You’re lucky it’s your birthday,” you snapped, but you still dutifully lowered a berry to his lips, waiting. Ajax wasted no time, darting his tongue out and licking the treat from your sticky fingers—no better than a starving dog that wanted nothing more than to shred your flowered dress into pretty ribbons and clutch the ruined tatters as a prize between his salivating teeth. 

But even when your boyfriend acted this greedy, you couldn’t help but feel something unspooling inside you—something syrupy and warm, as if you were laying in a patch of cozy sunlight.

Until you felt his damn teeth nip at you again.

You quickly retreated your fingers from his maw and clamped a hand over his mouth. You glared down at him. “Next birthday, you're getting a muzzle.”

But Ajax knew how to soften you up just as he knew how to agitate you. He pressed a kiss as soft as petals to your palm, and you felt yourself unfurl, warmth spreading sweetly and slowly like honey through your veins. 

Ajax then grabbed your hand and kissed the inside of your wrist, feeling the lively thrum of your pulse against his lips. “And keep me from kissing you everywhere? I didn’t know you could be so cruel.”

You roll your eyes, but that doesn’t stop the blood from rushing to your cheeks; that doesn’t stop him from peppering more kisses on your arm, looking up at you adoringly. “You know, there’s a certain gift you could still give me before it gets dark and we head home…”

Heart fluttering at his suggestion, you watch the sun sink behind the hills, slowly blanketing the world in silky shadow. “And what makes you think you deserve that?” you scoffed.

One second you watched the sky brighten with the glitter of lantern lights; the next second your world was blurring over, and your boyfriend was hovering above you, trapping you beneath him. 

Backlit by the fading golden light, Ajax’s eyes were clouded with devotion and desire for you, bluer than the sky he mounted you under. You felt his hardness against your thigh, felt his cock throb against you, and your stomach became alight with a thousand crystalflies. “I think I can work for it,” he said, smiling down at you and you feel yourself warm instantly.

When Ajax smiled at you, it was like the sun shining beyond the white fleece of clouds. 

Dimpled, warm, and sweet, he had that boyish smile that leaves golden dust over everything like a ray of sunshine, making the day much brighter and your heart so much warmer. 

But he also had a smile that could burn hot enough to start a forest fire—flickering and wild and unrestrained, but still so beautiful that you couldn’t help but lift your palms to feel the scorching heat kiss your flesh. 

When he looked at you with that kind of reverence blacked by the flames of his hunger, you didn’t have the strength to deny him what he wanted; so when he requested to eat berries from the palm of your hand, you indulged him, and when he began to stroke you from your knee up to your thigh with bruising fingers, you let him; and now, when he yanked at the ribbons that tied the bodice of your dress together in his fervent quest to fuck you in the warm, darkening air of the meadow, you had no choice but to grant him his wish.

After all, he was the birthday boy, and who were you to keep the present he yearned for the most away from him?

Ajax's kisses left a fire trail, open-mouthed and searing, from your collarbones to your neck to your lips. You moaned as he roughly palmed your breasts through your dress, and you felt his urgency, his utter hunger, burning beneath his skin like an inferno. 

“I’ve been waiting for this all day,” Ajax groaned against your mouth, a desperate, sultry hymn that made your heart race and heat rush to the aching place between your thighs, already weeping with your desire. “I’ve been wanting you all day.” 

Trapped in the arms of your wild lover, the one who’ll scatter your sweetness among the grass like petals, Ajax tore your dress down, exposing your breasts to his mouth. It was like a feast, with him latching onto one nipple and sucking and biting until it bruised plum purple like the night sky before repeating the same action to the other. Pain and pleasure sparked to life in you like the lantern lights up above, twinkling gemstones encrusting the night sky.

When his fingers slid into you, you gasped into his mouth; his strokes were fast and vicious but electrifying, pushing deep inside of you and hitting that heavenly place that yearned for his brutal caress the most. You felt hot all over as if you had swallowed the sun. But Ajax was the sun, igniting you from within, his touch and kisses spreading like wildfire over your body. You desperately wanted to be consumed; you wanted to be razed down, leaving nothing behind but shifting ash at his feet. 

And you did melt away to nothing beneath him, your vision flashing white and bright when your body shook as you came undone upon his fingers, pearling them with your wetness. You clung to him, trying to catch the breath that he stole. 

“Ajax, please, please,” you whimpered, and Archons above, you wanted him inside you; you wanted him to sink so deeply into you that you didn’t know where he ended and where you began, entwined forever with each other in this hazy summer dream.

Ajax chuckled, nuzzling against the crook of your neck. "Please, what, love? What do you want me to do to you?” 

You were not above begging at this point. “I want you to fuck me, please. I need you.” You ground your hips against him in need, but Ajax just looked down at you, his sunny smile edged with something darker. 

“Wanna clean me up first?” He said, brushing the fingers that were inside of you against your lips, urging your mouth open, your wetness shimmering on them, an opalescent string catching the light from the moon, much like precious dew drops clinging to a flower.

You opened your mouth and took in his fingers, your essence coating your tongue with its husky sweetness. Ajax groaned as he felt your tongue wrap around them, hungrily licking him clean with grazes of your teeth. You were no better than him from moments earlier; you both were wild, wanton things that desired nothing more than to bite the hand that fed you. 

Letting go of him with a lewd pop, Ajax’s fingers were shining bright with your saliva, and he reverently rubbed his lips against them, leaving behind a gleaming shine of your essence on his mouth. 

“Good girl,” Ajax murmured, kissing your forehead softly. “You taste sweeter than berries.” His fingers gently caressed your wet folds, his eyes dark with wonder. “You’re already so wet for me. You want me that badly, huh? Do you know how much I want you?”

He grabbed your hand and pressed it firmly against his crotch, making you feel the hardness of his cock beneath your palm, the precum dampening the fabric of his pants. With his guidance, you unbuckled and pulled down his pants, revealing what you craved most—his cock, red and weeping at the tip, desperate for the sweet relief only you could give him.

Lifting your legs onto his shoulders, Ajax’s grin burned bright, full of ravenous, flaming need. “I want everything to hear how much you want me,” he growled, lining himself up at your entrance. “From the sky to the trees to the flowers, I want everything to hear how much you need me.”

Ajax thrust into you abruptly, roughly, passionately, and you arched your back at the intense pleasure of finally, finally being filled to the point of breaking. His body covered yours, pinning you beneath him like a pressed flower, attempting to envelop you completely.

“You feel so good,” Ajax breathed deliriously against your neck, thrusting as deep as he possibly could into you, bottoming out before pulling back to go even deeper. “You’re so fucking tight.”

His name escaped your lips in strangled gasps as you sank your nails into his shoulder blades, overwhelmed by the warm air licking at your burning flesh, the pleasant friction of the flowers and grass scratching your back beneath you, of Ajax’s cock thrusting ruthlessly into the depths of your slick walls as you rocked against his brutal rhythm. 

The lewd sounds of wet skin against wet skin created a beautiful, sinful harmony with the wind whistling through the trees, filling you with a brightness that outshone the lantern lights sailing through the sky above, a destructive flame roaring to life within as you hurdled toward your climax.

Ajax growled a dark, thundering sound that sent shivers through you, making your walls clench even tighter around him. You could feel he was close, too—his muscles stiffening, his pace becoming more erratic and desperate. 

“Cum, baby, cum,” Ajax breathed in your ear as you babbled incoherently, your stomach tensing and tensing with pleasure, “Let yourself go, I got you, I always got you.”

And so you let yourself become undone. 

Vibrant, blinding colors spotted your vision as your orgasm seared through you, your bones melting away with what was left of your senses. Ajax unraveled too, long ropes of his cum coating your walls in its warmth and he bit down on your shoulder, burying the sounds of his release into your skin as his rutting into you slowed down. 

You vaguely felt the pain, but you might as well be weightless, your soul soaring away with the lanterns floating in the sky.

You felt Ajax’s love weep out of you, dribbling languidly down your thigh, wetting the earth beneath you. Ajax’s face swam into view, lovingly flushed. He collected his seed seeping from you with his fingers, spreading it around on your battered folds. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispered, entranced. “Beneath me where you belong, all my cum leaking out of you…”

Through the haze of your vision, you could see your blood blotted on Ajax’s mouth like a crimson cloud, and he licked the ichor from his lips as if were berry juices. 

tags: @tetsuskei ✦ @houseofsolisoccasum ✦ likes and reblogs are very much appreciated, i hope you enjoyed <3

[gravehags]

let the devil in

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator!Reader)

Rating: EXPLICIT, MDNI

Tags: OH THEY FUCKIN, PinV, loss of virginity, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, improper timing of satanic prayer, lots of ooey gooey feelings, secondo being a real one, stelline the rat makes a brief return, sister imperator being unsettling as shit

Words: 6,803

Summary: You have just about had enough of dancing around one another. It's now or never.

a/n: bro writing this had me shaking THIS IS IT, THE BIG ONE god i hope it lives up to my hype

The remainder of your time off passes without incident - for better and for worse. 

Copia has been lovely - a perfect gentleman - but as much as you appreciate his sweet words and his kind heart, you’re left wondering why he hasn’t made any…advances towards you. When your kisses turn heated he shies away and you don’t pursue the issue, wondering if you’re just coming on too strong. Wondering if he regrets the evening you spent together on New Years Eve. You try not to let it get to you but every night you lie awake, staring up at the ceiling worried that he has regrets. Part of you - the part that sees the sincerity in his eyes when he dotes on you, the logical part - tells you that he’s just being cautious. The other part of you…well. That little parasite is constantly in your ear telling you he’s just being kind - too kind to rip the bandaid off and break it off with you. Back and forth these two sides play tug of war and you’re the one left to suffer in silence. And it’s not just your mind that suffers but your body. Your body aches for him, your fingers frantically pressing against your clit in a poor imitation of the curve of his cock. You crave his touch and are filled with sadness as you watch the bruises his fingers left on your thighs yellow and fade. You want to bring your concerns up to him but the fear that the awful little parasite in you has been right all along keeps your mouth shut. So you let him court you - bring you more flowers (dark red peonies this time, you dried the roses he gave you the moment they began to wilt and now the bundle hangs from your bedroom mirror), hold your hand on your daily walks, eat by your side - and hope that through sheer force of will he seeks out your embrace once more. You’re almost relieved when you start back at work again, able to keep your hands and mind busy with something other than your unsettling thoughts and anxiety-fraught fledgling relationship.

–

Copia feels as if he’s going mad.

Not from you, never from you but…his desire for you. The way his body and his mind relive the feel of your cunt pressed up against him, the heat and wet pushing against his clothed cock. He clenches his fist and shifts in his office chair, the wood creaking beneath him. He’s trying his best - his very best - to be good and sweet and docile for you. To treat you like he wants to, like he knows you deserve. But his want for you is all-consuming, dogging him day and night, in your presence and without it. He wants your body - wants to corrupt your body - true, but more than that he wants…you. Hungers for your soul, your love. Wants to crawl inside your veins and make a home in your heart. He’s told you he loves you, true, but would the extent of it scare you off? He’s torn by wanting to confess the darkest parts of his passion to you and keeping you at a safe distance, like a porcelain doll on a shelf. New Year's Eve left him reeling, dizzy even as he slept beside you that night and you curled into him. You’re so good to him - far better than he deserves - and he can feel the lust radiating off of you whenever your kisses become heated. The devil whispers for him to let go, let you untether that beast inside him that he tries so hard to muzzle. The chain that holds him back weakens day by day, every moment you give him that look from across the couch or the dinner table he’s closer to ruin.

Which leads him to today. 

You’ve popped by his office on your lunch break, standing by the windows and holding his hands in yours. 

“Come over to my place tonight?”

He’s about to answer when there’s a knock on the door and it swings open. When he sees Secondo standing there he drops your hands as if burned and takes a step away from you.

“Mi scusi, I’ve interrupted something,” Secondo turns to leave but Copia calls out.

“No, no. Eh, nothing interrupted. She was just leaving - weren’t you, signorina?”

He immediately regrets his choice of words when he sees you jolt as if slapped at the cold tone of his voice and the return of your old title. Secondo’s sharp gaze flicks back and forth between you and him but he remains silent.

“Y-yeah. Okay. Sorry, Secondo. Goodbye, Cardinal.”

Ouch. He deserves that. As does he deserve the way you leave and shut the door behind you without a second glance back to him. Anxiety sinks heavy in his stomach as he lowers himself to slump on the end of his desk. He nearly forgets his fratello is there when the imposing papa clears his throat.

“Che cazzo, stronzo?” he barks, making Copia wince and fold in on himself. He’s not sure if it’s wiser to play dumb or fess up to his feelings but judging by the steely look in Secondo’s eye, he’ll take nothing less but the truth.

“It’s…a long story.”

“No it isn’t,” Secondo snarls, stalking over to him and jabbing him in the chest with a long finger. “You’re being chicken shit, aren’t you?”

Leave it to Secondo to suss out the reality of the situation in a heartbeat. Copia shifts himself out of poking distance and rounds the desk to collapse in his chair.

“I…eh…sì.”

Secondo crosses his arms and stares down at him imperiously.

Copia reaches up and rubs the bridge of his nose, unsure of how much detail to give him. Judging from the look on Secondo’s face, he wants to hear all of it.

“So we…got together. The night of the Yule gathering. I walked her back to her rooms and we… eh…made out along the way. We got to her place and she invited me in and I…I wanted to treat her as she deserves, sì? Flowers, dates, chocolates, the whole shebang. So I told her that. Then she–”

His voice cracks and he clears his throat, the mere memory of the incident enough to rile him up.

“She tells me she’s a virgin. A virgin, Secondo. Sathanas, I nearly grabbed her and had her in the damn hallway.”

Secondo makes a noise, his eyebrows rocketing up. He’s clearly not unmoved by this information either.

“So after that I…I try my best - my fucking best - to keep my composure. And maledetto inferno she did not make it easy, the little minx. And then I asked her out on a date. Our first. We went to Lucia’s on New Year’s Eve - came back, opened a bottle of champagne and well. Things escalated.”

“Did you…?”

“No,” Copia says hastily, “I mean…we didn’t do nothing but she remains ah…intact. Since then I-I don’t know what to do. The way she looks at me, the way she kisses me, touches me…”

“Fratello,” Secondo says, leaning against the wall and crossing his legs at the ankle, “forgive me but I’m not seeing the problem with a beautiful, young virgin desiring you.”

“No, no, no, that’s not it,” Copia says, “it’s not what she wants that scares me…it’s what I want. Secondo, I love her more than anything, desire her more than anything but…I’m afraid if she sees the extent of my passion, my obsession with her I’ll…I’ll drive her away. Like everyone else, sì? So I restrain myself at every turn.”

Secondo nods, quiet for a moment before speaking carefully.

“Copia, have you considered telling her any of this? That perhaps maybe sharing your fears with her - someone who loves you very deeply in return - will help alleviate your angst? Not to mention you’re probably driving the poor girl mad with lust, vecchio cane.”

Copia snorts and Secondo smiles.

“You two were so blind for so long, unwilling to see the feelings you had for one another when to everyone else it was obvious. She was made for you, and you for her. I’ve seen you chase after a few people over the years, fratello, and you looked at none of them the way you look at her. So tell her. Show her, for fuck’s sake. You know full well how many in this abbey would kill to be in your position, huh? Terzo, for one, which is why this stays between us, sì? You need to make your move before he catches wind of her…condition.”

Copia nods vigorously, heaving a deep sigh and tipping his head against the back of his chair.

“Grazie, Secondo. For listening, as you always have.”

Secondo nods solemnly before pushing himself off the wall and making to leave.

“W-why did you come in originally?” Copia asks.

Secondo shrugs and winks his white eye.

“Brotherly intuition. Ciao, Copia.”

With a little wave the papa is gone and Copia sighs.

He’d come see you tonight. It was now or never.

–

You make sure to stay out of Copia’s way the remainder of the day, more confused than angry. When he’s with you he’s hot and cold - professing his love but ultimately shying away from your touch - and when you’re around others, well. With Terzo he’s possessive, with Secondo he’s jumpy. What is going on in that head of his? Well. Doesn’t matter. You’ve already made your mind up to go to him tonight and sort things out. He’s got confession duty until eight which gives you plenty of time to…prepare. A shiver runs through your body at the implication that if you play your cards right, tonight could be the night. Perhaps…you look at the small bundle of keys on the lanyard around your neck, sorting through them to find a specific one. He gave you the key to his rooms last week. Perhaps he would be more ah…pliant…to your desires were you to simply be…waiting for him. You giggle, actually giggle aloud, in your empty office. He’s not going to know what hit him.

You’re distracted the rest of the day, head filled with plans and scenarios, and you move through your tasks mechanically. When Sister Imperator drops by to give you a heads up about another painting she bought at auction she gives you a curious look. She’s been kind of weird around you since after the break - looking at you shiftily during meetings - and you’d be unsettled by it were your head not already filled with other things. When she turns to leave your office, she casually tosses “why don’t you take the rest of the day, hmm?” over her shoulder. You sputter, baffled as to how she seemed to know, and she turns around to give you a tight smirk before leaving with her red stilettos tapping on the marble. You’re holding your breath watching her retreat down the hall and you look at your watch.

3:21 PM

You’ve got hours but there’s a lot you have to cram in before then. First to head to the dining hall and wolf down a meal, then to Primo for a restock of your…meds, then to your quarters to shower and figure out what you’re going to wear. 

Better get going.

By the time you finish your tasks and return to your quarters, it’s 5:36 PM. You were waylaid by a group of siblings after you left Primo’s greenhouse who politely asked you to help them take pictures for the Ministry’s social media account. Dropping your keys and phone on the side table, you strip and leave a trail of clothes on the way to the bathroom. Your shower is swift but you still make sure to use your best smelling products. You go through your skincare routine and step out to look at the clock next to your bed.

6:17 PM

Shit. You feel like you're pushing it and you’re glad you ultimately decided not to wash your hair tonight. Padding out into your bedroom, you open your drawers and rifle through them. You wanted something that gave the impression you were…his for the taking. Something soft and well…virginal. When you pull a knee length cream colored silk nightgown out of your pajama drawer you make a loud noise of appreciation. A little wrinkled, maybe, but you doubt he would care. Tossing your towel on your bed you pull the slip over your head, shivering at the touch of the cool material. Your eyes travel to the top of your dresser and you spot your perfume - the one you know he loves - and give yourself a few spritzes before touching his gold grucifix on your collarbone. That should do it. But now you have to get from your quarters to his and somehow you think doing so in a thin nightgown isn’t the wisest decision so you grab your robe and wrap it snugly around you. Stepping into your slippers you walk out of your room and grab your phone and key, taking a deep breath.

It’s now or never.

The journey up the two floors to Copia’s quarters passes without incident, unless you count the siblings who saw your attire and gave you funny looks. Your hands are shaking - actually shaking - as you reach his door and unlock it, stepping inside. It’s dark.

“Shit,” you hiss, fumbling for the switch. When you manage to locate it and flip it on, the room is bathed in a soft yellow glow. His quarters are nice - not that yours are a dump, by any means - but the level of decorative detail has you inspecting every corner of his living space. Looking around you remove your robe and set it on a chair by the door. When you hear a few squeaks you shuffle over to the large rat cage in the corner, cooing at the little faces peering up at you. Stelline stands on her hind legs, nose snuffling in your direction.

“Hello, little loves,” you murmur, “I’ve got to be nosy for a second so you stay put, okay?”

When Stelline lets out a particularly loud squeak it makes you laugh so loud you clap your hand to your mouth. Before any more objections can be made you head to the other side of the room, past the wall of leaded glass windows, and through a doorway on the left. A small kitchen. Cute. Which means the other doorway leads…your heart thuds as you approach the darkened alcove and turn on yet another light switch. 

Copia’s bedroom.

It feels forbidden to be in this space and you step in cautiously, expecting at any moment to get busted for breaking and entering. It’s a decent size room - bigger than yours - with dark wood paneling and tapestries on the walls. There’s an empty fireplace on the left and a large dresser, as well as a high backed chair. There’s a doorway which undoubtedly leads to his bathroom and…there it is. A large four-poster bed with dark red hangings and matching covers. You swallow thickly, stepping over to it. This could be it, you think, running your hands over the duvet. This could be the place where y—wait, what’s that?

There’s a scrap of black peeking out from under his pillow and curious, you reach for it. When you pull the item out, your jaw drops.

Those. Those are yours. Your…

“That little pervert!” you crow, veins flooded with warmth at the thought of what he did with your underwear. Your dirty underwear. Filthy man…filthy delicious man. Well who are you to deprive him of his simple pleasures, you think as you stuff the garment back under the pillow. Should everything go right tonight you’ll tease him about it…afterwards. Shaking your head you look down at your phone.

7:21 PM

Still got about forty minutes to kill, assuming confession doesn’t go over. Suddenly you’re kicking yourself for rushing all day and walk over to the chair to plop down. Hopefully a little time on your phone will pass the minutes.

You’re on your…how many games of solitaire was this?...when you hear the distinct sound of a key in a lock. You can feel the blood drain from your face as you set your phone aside and grip the arms of the chair. When he enters and shuts the door behind him, making his weird little noises, you can’t help but smile. 

“Buonasera, i miei bambini!”

You can hear him scoot over to his rats, sighing deeply. He talks to them for a few moments before his footfalls begin to approach where you are. He’s got his biretta in hand as he spots you and stands frozen in the doorway, mouth agape.

“Hey,” you say, slowly rising out of the chair.

It takes him a moment to speak, too distracted by your outfit.

“Cara…” he breathes, setting his biretta down on his dresser, “I-I was going to come to you tonight.”

“Hmm, well,” you shrug, “beat you to it.”

There’s a ringing silence between the two of you, your heart thundering against your ribs. You take a step towards him.

“Copia, you don’t have to hold back. You don’t have to…have to hide from me. I love you. You know that.”

“Sì,” he whispers, “but do you know how much I love you? How I would do anything for you - to you - if you let me? Dolcezza I–”

“So what if I let you?” you ask, taking another step towards him. “What if I want you to? What if I’ve always wanted you to? What if you’re the only one I’ve ever–” you take two more steps towards him until you’re a breath apart, “--wanted to?”

He exhales shakily, breath stirring the hairs around your face.

“I’m giving you permission, Copia,” you breathe, “I want you to take, and take, and take from me until I have nothing left to give. I’m yours, my love. I’m–”

You don’t finish your declaration - don’t get a chance. Copia lunges at you like an animal, wrapping his arms around you drawing you snug against his chest with his lips pressed against yours. He’s never kissed you like this before - like a starving man - lips and teeth and tongue mingling with yours and peppered with groans and growls. He’s holding you so tight he squeezes the breath from your lungs as he nips at your throat, ravenous.

“Mine,” he growls, “amata mia. I’m going to make you sing, bellezza.”

When he licks along your carotid you gasp, and gently push at him.

“Let me undress you,” you breathe as you pant, “please Copia I want to see you.”

Copia pauses and pulls away to rest his forehead against yours before nodding. When he takes a step away from you, you mourn the warmth of his body.

“Go on, amore mio,” he murmurs.

“I-I don’t know where to start,” you confess with a smile. He offers his hands out to you.

“Here.”

This act alone is far more intimate than anything the two of you have done before. You know how he is about his hands and when you reach for them your own shake. Your fingers slide up the palm and wrist, taking the zipper and pulling. Gently, you ease each finger out of its sheath and pull the leather away. His hand is…beautiful. Large, freckled - like the rest of him - with a dusting of fine brown hair and–

“What happened?” you ask quietly, index finger tentatively brushing against the scar tissue in the center. “Copia is that–”

“Sì,” he answers simply and you reach for his other hand to repeat the process. You want to know, want to ask why but stay silent and save your curiosity for another time. Once the other one is bare you take them both in your hands and look at him.

“Beautiful,” you say softly, keeping your eyes on his as you raise each palm to your lips and place a firm, lingering kiss at the center. Some of the raw hunger leaves his eyes - replaced with utter adoration.

“What’s next?”

“This,” he points to his grucifix. It takes you a minute of peering at his pellegrina before you see where the bejeweled accessory is hooked. Delicately you detach it and set it on the dresser.

“Next?”

“My fascia,” Copia whispers, gesturing to his belt. When you loosen it from his waist, the long red material sliding through your hands, he watches you intently. You fold the garment up neatly and set it aside.

“Cassock?” you ask.

He nods, guiding your fingers to his neck. Each button feels like an eternity and by the time you reach his waist he can sense your quiet frustration.

“We can cheat with this one,” he murmurs, grabbing the sides and inching them up his body before pulling the garment over his head. When the red wool falls in a pile on the floor, you regard it fondly.

“I don’t know if I can wait any longer, amore,” he says, standing before you in his clerical shirt, suspenders, and trousers.

“One last thing, please,” you say before darting away and into the bathroom. You rummage around in the linen closet for a moment before pulling out a rag and turning on the sink. When you return to him with the soaked cloth he looks perplexed until you raise it to his face.

“If I’m going to see you naked,” you say, gently wiping away the paint on his right eye, “I want all of you naked.”

He chuckles, hands behind his back as you remove every bit of the Cardinal you can find. When you finish, he takes the rag from you and tosses it to the floor.

“On the bed, amata,” there’s a darkness, a self-assuredness in his tone that would feel almost foreign to you if you hadn’t heard it first on New Year’s Eve. It makes a shiver run down your spine as you step over to his bed. He follows, toeing off his shoes and reaching down to remove his socks, mismatched eyes watching you like a hawk as you clamber onto the red duvet. He pauses at the foot of the bed and slides his suspenders off his shoulders so they hang by his sides before unbuttoning the first few buttons of his clerical shirt to expose a pale sternum covered in more fine brown hair. You blink up at him before taking a deep breath, sitting up on your knees, and pulling the nightgown over your head. The garment falls to the rug in a whisper and there you are. Bare. Your heart is in your throat as you lean backwards against the pillows, presenting yourself to him.

Copia doesn’t look hungry anymore. 

He looks feral.

When he presses his knee on the bed and slowly begins to crawl towards you, your breathing comes in pants. He urges your legs apart, spreading you open for him and eyeing the thatch of curls at the juncture of your thighs before situating himself between your knees.

“Dolcezza,” he growls, bare hands ghosting over your hips without actually touching you, “will you join me in prayer?” 

Your mouth falls open.

“N-now?” His eyes fall to the heaving of your breasts as you continue to take ragged breaths. The drag of his gaze along every dip and swell of your body makes your face heat up.

“Sì, amore mio. For when else am I to give thanks to Sathanas for this most blessed gift? What better place than right–” he touches your knees, making you jump, “--here?” His hands slide up your thighs as he shuffles forward to loom over you, breath dancing with yours. Mismatched eyes bore into yours, the corner of his lips curled slightly in a wicked smile.

You nod.

“Unholy Father,” he begins before leaning down to slot his lips against yours. The kiss is unhurried, decadent even, and when his tongue slides hotly along yours you whimper into his mouth. The chuckle that reverberates into you has your body arching into his, eager for his touch. You think he’s about to do just that when he pulls away, a lewd string of saliva connecting the two of you. 

“Today I give thanks for this–” he inhales deep through his nose “--glorious favor you have bestowed upon me, a most faithful son.”

He lowers himself towards you once more, to press open-mouthed kisses along your throat. With some hesitancy, you bring your hand up to his head and drag your fingers through his hair, causing him to groan. His tongue traces a path across your clavicle - briefly pausing to kiss the gold grucifix that rests there - and continues down your sternum. 

“For what greater honor–” he pauses to suck at the swell of your breast, “--can you provide than an eager–” his lips drag torturously close to where you need him, “--willing–” his tongue darts out to graze the taut bud, “sweet–” he hovers over your nipple, eyes trained up on yours, and his hot breath makes you shiver, “--virgin.” When he finally, finally lowers his lips to slip the hardened bud into his mouth you let out a keening moan. He sucks hungrily, teeth teasing at it and tongue soothing the catch of bone on flesh. 

“Copia, fuck,” you breathe, fingers buried in his hair to cradle him against you, “mmm just like that. Just like that, love.”

He rewards the endearment by bringing his hand up to your other breast and cupping the soft flesh in his large palm. When his thumb brushes over your nipple your hips buck again, and you can feel him smile against your skin. He wetly pulls off of you and you let out an undignified whimper at the loss.

“I have her heart,” he says, and you’re wildly confused for a moment before it dawns on you that he’s not done praying. The realization makes your head fall back against his pillows, your tongue sliding out to wet your lips. He’s abandoned your breasts now and has slid further down, hands on your waist. 

“I have her mind,” he places a soft kiss to the curve of your belly once - and again - before sliding down even further.

“Her soul–” he kisses the underside of your stomach once more, his mustache tickling you, “--I’m working on—“ 

When he glances up at you with a grin you smile back, deliriously enchanted, “--and her body…” 

His breath stirs the curls between your legs and your heart pounds. “...Is now mine.” The low, almost sinister tone of his voice makes you gasp, knowing full well what comes next. 

“Nema.”

“N-nema.”

He bows his head in reverence and taking his thumbs, spreads you open and drags his tongue through your slick folds. The sensation sends a shockwave through you, your back arching off the mattress as you squirm.

“Copia!”

His hands fly to your hips, gripping and kneading the flesh as he continues to work his tongue against you. He’s content to lap at your entrance for a couple of minutes before dragging the muscle upwards slightly and–oh. When he curves the flat of his tongue along your swollen clit he really has to hold you down. Your fingers cling to the silvered brown strands on his head, holding him against you and through your lowered lids you can see his hips minutely grinding against the mattress. You’re laughing, high and breathy, as he flicks the tip of his tongue against you, better than your fingers or any vibrator. When he moans into your cunt, fingers digging into your flesh you gasp.

“Fuck, my love, right there. Don’t stop, don’t stop, Copia please.”

He grins against you, mouth returning to gather the slick at your entrance and the tip of his long, large nose grinding against your clit. The sensation is overwhelming as your body thrashes and, you think deliriously, he’s definitely going to leave marks with how firmly he’s holding you. When he pulls away from you - no doubt to catch his breath - he leans up on his elbows a little and gives you a wolfish grin. 

“Dolcezza, what a sacrifice you make. Ave Sathanas.”

You laugh, grinning down at him as he returns to his task. When he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, again and again, you know it’s over. You’re babbling nonsense, sweet little words of praise at your lover, as you feel that familiar wave begin to crest inside you.

“Copia, oh fuck Copia I’m so close honey.”

He hums around you, hips continuing to rut into the duvet as he devours you. When you no longer have the ability to form words, you moan, higher and higher as you grip his hair and the covers. He pulls away slightly, making you cry out in desperation but when he returns he gently nudges the tip of his finger inside you. It’s not enough to make any real impact but the knowledge that he’s simply toying with you as you thrash below him has you letting out breathy, hysterical laughter.

“So good for your Cardinal,” he pants, and when you meet his gaze you can feel yourself clenching around his finger. “So tight for me and I haven’t even filled you yet. Tell me - did you use your own fingers while thinking of me?”

“Copia pl–”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chastises, licking his lips. “I won’t give you what you want until you answer me, amore mio.”

You’ve only seen glimpses of this side of him before - hints at what lurked below the surface but now that you’re being fully exposed to this Copia - self-assured and smug in his power - your hunger for him increases tenfold.

“Yes, I-I did.”

“How many?”

He asks the question with all the casualness of asking for the price of apples at the farmer’s market.

“D-depends. Sometimes two. Sometimes thre–ah!”

He doesn’t even let you finish before he’s easing a second finger into you, stretching you open.

“My fingers are much bigger than yours, amore,” he says as he begins to slide himself in knuckle deep. “We’ll start with two today to eh, warm you up, sì? Would you like that?”

He’s right - his fingers are a lot bigger than yours and when he pauses to gently crook them inside you your jaw falls open in a desperate moan.

“Y-yes. Yes! Fuck, Copia just like that. Please, my love, please.”

“You beg so prettily for me, dolcezza,” he growls, lowering his face to your cunt once more, “keep going.”

The sounds he draws out of you as he licks and sucks and fucks his fingers into you are unlike any you’ve made before. Somewhere in the back of your fuzzy mind you wonder if people passing by in the hallway can hear you but that only makes your hips buck into his touch even harder. You do as he asks and begs, promising him anything, anything as long as he doesn’t stop, please don’t stop. When you finally come apart, your muscles burn and you scream his name - fuck now you know someone heard that - as he presses against that sweet spot inside you. You don’t even notice him removing his mouth and pulling back so he can watch your face contort as you pant and sweat against his pillows. Your vision has gone blurry as you stare at the canopy above you, only somewhat aware of him sliding his fingers out of you and pulling back. You look up at him, sitting on his haunches looking both smug and full of affection, as he licks at the mess on his hand.

“C’mere,” you say, crooking a finger at him. He obliges with a smile, and when his face approaches yours you grab him by the back of the head and pull him in for a slow, wet kiss. 

“Mm–like the taste of yourself, ragazza mia? Filthy thing.”

You can feel his cock nudging you through his pants and you grind upwards against him. He growls into your mouth before pulling away.

“Don’t finish me before I get started, amata,” he purrs, leaning down to run his tongue along your jaw.

You laugh.

“That wasn’t you getting started?” you marvel, and he pulls back to give you a lewd wink. “Take these off, my love. I want to see all of you.”

He nods, sliding backwards off the bed to stand. You watch him intently as he finishes unbuttoning and untucking his clerical shirt before unfastening his pants and sliding them and his underwear down to step out of them. He’s…gorgeous. You always knew he was but seeing him like this - bare and freckled, the brown hair on his body abundant - you sigh. Something dreamy and romantic sits on your tongue until your eyes travel to the juncture of his thighs and your mouth runs dry. He crawls on his hands and knees towards you, settling in between your legs and stroking his thick, reddened cock.

“You, eh. You like it?”

You nod dumbly, unable to form anything coherent. His body is clearer now in this light - he’s got a scar on the right side of his abdomen and on his left pectoral you see–

“A tattoo?!” you splutter loudly. 

The self-satisfied smile on his face drops as he lets go of his cock and it bobs in front of him.

“Really? That’s what you’re focusing on?”

The ridiculousness of the whole situation hits you at once - the two of you nude, you being a virgin, him with his tattoo, both of you in this fucking Satanic abbey - and you tilt your head back and laugh. He growls and throws himself forward, caging you in underneath him.

“I show you my cock and you laugh?” he chastises you, mustache twitching as he fights back a smile. “Have some dignity, piccola vergine mia.”

Your laughter dies and you take in the flushed face of the man above you, strands of hair falling into his eyes. 

“I love you.”

His eyes get misty, as do yours, as he reaches up to cup your cheek.

“Amata mia, dolcezza mia, vita mia, tutto mio. Ti amo. Per sempre.”

He leans down and places a sweet, soft kiss on your cheek before nuzzling into it.

“Are you ready?”

You cup his jaw and run your thumb over his cheekbone.

“Have your wicked way with me, Cardinale,” you smile, your hips shifting up against his. The drag of his wet cock against the heat of you makes him groan.

“Diavoletta mia,” he growls, leaning back and taking himself in hand. You spread your legs wider, still soaked from your earlier activities, and present yourself to him. When his cockhead prods at your entrance, you jump and his eyes fly to yours for confirmation. You nod and gently, slowly, he pushes himself in. There’s no pain, only pressure, as he slides in, his breathing ragged in an effort to maintain control. When he bottoms out, your bodies flush to one another, you pant up at him.

“Y-you okay?” he stammers, clearly trying his hardest to restrain himself. You watch a drop of sweat slide down his temple.

“Copia,” your voice is calmer than it’s been all evening, “don’t hold back.”

You feel his arms wobble on either side of you at your words as he slides nearly all the way out of you and pushes back in. He repeats the action, each thrust gaining more force than the last. The feel of him stretching you is divine, hypnotic, and watching him slowly come apart above you even more so. He’s moaning desperately with each slide of his cock, his eyes frantically searching yours.

“That’s it, baby,” you breathe, canting your hips upwards to meet his thrusts. “Just like that. Don’t stop.”

When you experimentally clench around him he whines, his hands seeking yours to entwine your fingers. He fucks into you a little harder, little deeper with a shift of his hips, making you arch your back and press your breasts against him.

“S-so good,” he whimpers, “so tight, amore. So–ah–sweet for me, always.”

All you can do is moan in response as he jerks against you. You’re full - so deliciously full of him - and wildly you wonder how you went this long without him. This man that you adored so deeply - who adored you back - who always cared, always listened. You can feel tears prick the corners of your eyes and you whimper as you wrap your legs around his waist as tight as you possibly can. His movements are limited now by your actions but you don’t care - all you care about is keeping the two of you joined as close as possible.

“Amore, amore, amore,” he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours. Despite his thrusts no longer being quite as deep, they are no less forceful.

“Thank you,” you manage to eke out, “thank you. Vita mia. Mondo mio. You’re perfect.”

He chuffs out a noise between a sob and a pant, clearly moved by your use of language. The snap of his hips picks up and you can feel that pressure building inside of you once more. 

“Copia,” you whimper, “Copia I’m close, I’m so close, don’t stop. Please, my love.”

His fingers tighten in yours, palms slick with sweat and you feel yourself falling, falling. Your cunt spasms around him as his thrusts become wild, erratic and you feel wave upon wave of pleasure spreading from your core through your limbs and into your fingertips. It’s different from your usual orgasms - less violent, less frantic - but no less intense. You can feel the tears sliding down into your hair as you buck up against him, desperate to wring out every last moment of the feeling.

“Cara,” Copia’s voice is hoarse, “I’m–I’m going–”

“Let go. Show me how much you love me, Copia.”

Your command is all the permission he needs and lets out a low, broken moan of your name as his hips spasm into yours and you feel his seed pulse inside of you. Idly, you think about how glad you are that you visited Primo before this. You look up at the man on top of you and reach up to push his hair out of his eyes. His eyes are bright, white eye glowing, as he shakes and struggles to hold himself up. Gently, you ease him to the side, making sure to keep the two of you joined as he collapses next to you. You’re simply not ready to let go yet. The two of you tremble in each other’s arms, content to bathe in the heavy emotion. Your tears have dried and now a calm washes over you.

“Hey,” you murmur, fingers raking through Copia’s sweaty hair. He’s watching you carefully - every dart of your eyes and twitch of your cheeks - as if he’s anticipating something.

“Hey,” he says softly, reaching out to run his thumb over your bottom lip. “So was that, eh. Satisfactory?”

You snort and tug lightly at his hair.

“I think I can now say I’ve been thoroughly and successfully ravished, Cardinal. This must be quite a feather in your cap. You’ve made your Unholy Father proud.”

Now it’s his turn to snort.

“Just be thankful no one else found out about your, eh, former condition. You’d have had clergy and siblings and ghouls all lined up for you.”

“Oh,” you begin with a not-so-innocent tone, “so that’s why you romanced me, huh? Wanted first dibs?”

“Cara, no,” Copia says, deadly serious all of a sudden, “this isn’t–I would never–”

You laugh, dragging your fingers through his chest hair.

“My love, it’s been almost a year, I thought you’d be used to my stupid jokes by now.”

“Ah!” he rolls his eyes and waves at you dismissively, making you laugh even harder.

You finally have to separate, his softened cock sliding out of you as you push backwards. When you try to swing your legs over the bed and stand a hand wraps around your bicep and hauls you back down to bounce on the mattress.

“And where do you think you’re going, signorina?”

“Well I was gonna go pee and then–”

Quick as a cat, he rolls onto you, grinning down at you.

“Bellezza mia,” he purrs, “I hope you didn’t make plans for the next few days. We have, eh, lots of time to make up for. And you,” he leans down and runs his tongue over your pulse point, feeling it thunder against your skin, “have so much to learn.”

When the two of you text Sister Imperator with suspiciously matching illnesses the next morning, she smiles to herself. 

All in Lucifer’s plan.

[chuuminn]

Holaaa Minnie!

Its 🕯 nonniee hereee

omgomgomg I'm getting so addicted to your recommendations 😭.

Would you pretty pls recommend beast dazai or beast chuuya fics? nsfw, angst, fluff anything. I'm just too obsessed with beast au here as I just finished the manga and sobbinggg.

🕯 nonnie !!!! candlelight of my lifeeee, i am so so so sorry about how long this took. your ask made me realize how little beast canon fic’s i’ve read, so i wanted to do some diving before making a rec list. most of these dazai-centric, though chuu does get to have some fun with you in rec number four !

i’m sure this goes without saying - it is the beast canon after all - but these get dark. please, please, read through the content warnings and stay safe, mwwwwwaaahh !

spoilers for bungo stray dogs: beast below !!! waterloo by @osarina infinite universes, infinite possibilities. across them all, only one thing remains constant: you and your fateful meeting with dazai osamu, a whirlwind of love and romance that seems to always end in tragedy. ( mumble: okay i know i’ve recommended waterloo before. but i cannot rightly make a beastzai list without including it. side b, ‘unreal unearth’, is within the beast canon and it’s delicious. ) not a second thought, oh, romeo by @yawarakaizai “this was a dangerous game to play. how you were going to go about this was a gamble, one that could either go in your favour - or horribly otherwise. danger thrilled you. and perhaps maybe that is why you paraded right into dazai's office wearing nothing but his black trench coat.” i’ll have you muzzled and caged, i’ll put you right in your place, you want it by @hopelessdazai “..puppy ears?” the velvet headband was clutched between your fingers. a gift box on the table in front of you from the boss of the port mafia. dazai, your personal trainer. he didn't reply at first, simply smiling down at you - before stepping beside you and taking a layer of crinkled tissue paper off. “there's a tail in there too.” perverted by @bsdawgz “dazai has always been calculating and cruel. Perhaps it was one of the things that drew you to him the most, as twisted as it were, knowing that these bloodies hands could sometimes hold you so tenderly, and that you of all people were the one he chose to see him naked at the end of the night.

and some bite-sized pieces as per usual, cause i adore them 

this one and this one by @lacunazai this one by @that-weeb-in-your-closet this one by @chuulyssa

be show to show your authors some love ! they work their butts off to feed us. writers, if you see this i'm giving you the sweetest knuckles kisses, we owe you so much (｡>\\\<)

[gayaristocrat]

*Walk Him Like A Dog*

Summary: Mike wants nothing more than to fuck his boyfriend’s ass into oblivion. But in order to do that, his boyfriend must teach him patience and obedience first

Warnings: Sub Top! Mike Schmidt, Dom Bottom! Male reader, pet names (ex. good boy, pup, puppy, precious), use of leash and collar, begging, gentle use of muzzle

———————————————————————————————————

“Have you been a good boy Mike?”

Mike couldn’t help but let out a whimper as hot tears rolled down his heated face. Your grip tightened on the leash that was latched onto the black leather collar locked around his neck. You had to admit, be did look good with a leash and collar on, as well as a muzzle.

Mike didn’t give a response as he just sobbed looking down at the decorative red rug below him, feeling so needy for your touch.

“I asked you a question!” you demanded giving a tug on the leash, the metal tags linked on the collar jingling and he was yanked forward, knees scratching against the rug. His chin lay on your knee as he looked up at you with glossy red eyes and furrowed brows, giving a silent apology begging for forgiveness. He them looked at you with those big glassy eyes with love as he began to speak.

“mhmm” Mike gave a raspy muffle, failing to blink away his tears. He wants to speak so bad, to tell you how good he feels. How he wants more, and beg to treat like the dog he is. Wanting to please and obey your every command literally on hand and foot. But every time he tries to speak his voice gets silenced behind the leather muzzle around his mouth.

“speak up puppy, you know I can’t hear you” You say in a sickeningly mocking tone tugging on the collar once more

“mmm…mhmm!” He says pathetically nodding his head in a frenzy.

Smirking at the state the man kneeling legs spread at your feet is in. His red kissed knees against his ivory skin from the slight carpet burn. He looks at you with those big dark teary eyes of his tugging at your heart strings. You softly moan as you feel your dick twitch in your pants as you yourself are even hard from this experience.

You run your free hand through his disheveled black hair humming in satisfaction and gently undo any tangles you may come across. After a few minutes you sat the leash down on the bed next to you and reach both your hands behind his neck to unlock the leather muzzle from around his mouth. The hairs on Mike’s neck stand and he shivers. Mike’s breath quickens and his heartbeat picks up and you get ready to remove the restrictions. A string of saliva breaks away as you remove the mouth piece tossing it on the bed behind you as well.

“there you go baby, look at you precious”

You hold his scruffy chin in your hand gently rubbing the skin as you speak, and feeling the patches of black facial hair. Giving him little scratches under his chin you say in a baby voice. “Who’s a good boy huh? Are my good boy?”

You look at him, pleased at how his leg bounces at the scratches you give his chin.

“I…im your good boy *hic* I…’m your good boy” he mutters in a raspy wet teary voice, swallowing and wincing at the burning in his throat.

“Yes you’ve been so good. Taking anything I give you like a champ. I’m so proud of you precious”

“M/N, please let me fuck you. I need *hic* …I need my cock in you! I’ll do anything *hic* pl..please I’m begging you. I…I wanna feel you around me”

He sobs again, tears uncontrollably running down his face. He grabs hold of your leg and rests his head against your thigh again looking at you with those doll-like eyes as his wet eyelashes stick together each other

Your voice that was once soft and sweet like honey, quickly turned to one that wasn’t pleased. As Mike watched your face that once looked at him with a smile and adoration, now looked at him with utter disappointment, a look which only make him feel his heart break in half as his eyes swelled with even more tears. Mike knew he messed up by loosing patience like that.

“tch…you’re not being a good boy for me anymore” you say in an irritated manner “bad boys get the muzzle remember?” reaching behind you for the muzzle again

The aching in his chest didn’t go away. He didn’t mean to, please don’t be disappointed with him, he can’t handle it.

“P..please…no more muzzle…no more. I’ll be good I *hic* I swearrr” he whimpers, his hands desperately pulling at your pants leg. “m’sorry, ‘m a good boy! a really good boy!” he whines.

He always seems to know just what to say and do to make you go soft on him. You’ll give in to his begging just this once, but it seems like you two will definitely have to do some more training in the future. After all, you are a man of your word and you did promise to let him fuck you.

Your face softens as you let out a soft sigh, putting the muzzle down again you hold his chin once more so his eyes meet yours and you say calmly yet sternly

“Good dogs speak when they are spoken to, have patience, and do what they’re told. Understand pup?”

He bites his bottom lip and nods his head with a defeated choked whimper. Muttering ‘please please please’ in his head over and over again.

“You wanna feel your cock inside me Mike? Do you wanna fuck me?”

Mike begged as he rolled his hips, grinding his angry red cock against the front of your boot moaning with the slight relief. The veiny shaft twitched with anticipation and excitement as beads of pre-cum leaked from the angry red tip landing on your shoe.

“Well Mike-”

He’d been a real good boy when taking the treatment you’ve been giving him, and everyone knows that good dogs deserve treats so-

“You better bark like you want it”

[1nt3rnalpu7ref4ct10n]

tumblr wont let me post anymore pics for the night so

✨Random Xmen Hcs that i just thought up recently based on xmen tas s1e3 and 4✨

(these are mostly sabretooth related cause big angry kitty man got my brain)

Harnesses: Logan actually (based on the animal) loves harnesses, but probably has bad past experiences w harnesses, so hed need positive reinforcement training (like how you train dogs to not hate muzzles or crates). Victor however L O A T H E S harnesses, based on those videos of cats being unable to function when theyre wearing those walking harnesses for the first time

Scott doesnt know how to properly interact with pets, hes the type to just awkwardly start petting a cat or dog thats sat on his lap and he doesnt know what to do

SCOTTS SO AUTISTIC I DONT CARE WHAT ANYONE SAYS HES AUTISTIC AS FUCK

Vic does that flehmens response thing whenever he smells somethin, its not that its a bad smell (half the time it Is a bad smell *cough cough logan*) its that hes trying to process the smell and what the source is

not based on the episodes i just think its fun: kurts like a weird and adorable mix between a cat, gecko, n owl (i saw fanart of kurt with owl feet and i fuckin love that idea, and hes flexible, he can probably turn his head almost 180 like owls)

OH ABOUT CATS VIC DOES THAT MOUTHING AFFECTION THING BIG CATS DO CAUSE PRESSURE ON TEETH FEELS NICE

Victor also has the tapetum lucidum thing (like logan) so i cant help but always imagine he n Logan are fighting or something in the dark and when they hear a noise they just look up and 2 sets of blue-ish green/copper-red eyes are reflectin whatever light there is

When Victor stretches, he stretches his hands and claws, so his claws like grip onto a table or somethin and he stretches so hard his arms do that shakey flex thing and his claws just rip and tear whatever theyre stuck on, i think theres a video of a tiger doin this somewhere

Logan prob also does the claw stretch thing, hes gotta, claws are the entire length of his fucking forearms, and kurt maybe if he does have claws

idk, this is mostly just talkin about victor bein a 7ft tall cat

KURT IS DIGITIGRADE, kinda/somewhat, ive seen kurt in some of the cartoons be shown as digitigrade and it should be talked about more

not a hc but actually kinda canon SCOTTS A REDHEAD, HIS HAIR COLOR IS LIKE THE SAME AS ROGUE AND GAMBITS

another hair hc/somewhat canon: MAGNETO ALWAYS HAD WHITE HAIR, THATS WHY PIETRO HAS WHITE HAIR ITS FUCKING GENETIC

[thediaryofaurora]

General HCs:

𐬻Jeff the Killer (Jeffery Woods)𐬿

- 19, maybe 20.

- 5’10 but he tells very one he’s 6’1. (no one believes him.)

- Waisian, Korean mom white dad. Both of his parents were super strict so painting his nails or dying his hair feels rebellious to him.

- I think he still has his eyelids, or at least most of them. He also didn’t cut completely through his face, it’s just like a deep ass scar.

- Allergic to dogs and cats. He thinks cats are assholes, though. Loves big dogs that look like if they don’t have a muzzle they’d maul you.

- Favorite movies are the Texas Chainsaw Massacre and The Terrifier.

- He seriously drinks MAYBE one bottle of water every few days. Exclusively drinks gatorade and monsters.

- Cannot cook for shit. Burnt, undercooked, too salty, or just the wrong ingredients all together. He doesn’t measure or even bother to think logically about what should be in a certain dish, he just wings it. And doesn’t succeed. He just ends up getting fast food.

- VERY chapped lips. He has chapstick, he just doesn’t bother to use it.

- His room is messy as hell. Dirty clothes, blood stains, chinese takeout containers, empty red gatorade bottles, and empty monsters EVERYWHERE. He also like, never changes his bedding.

- Bed wise, I think he probably has like on pillow (that doesn’t even have a case,) one blanket, and a sheet that is super torn up.

- Absolutely AWFUL driver. Since slender took him in so young he never had an actual test. Other creeps did teach him the basics, but he does whatever the hell he wants. Goes way too fast, drives on the wrong side of the road, takes the sharpest turns, and hits the break so hard. He knows how to drive good, but he thinks it’s lame. Also doesn’t wear a seatbelt.

- Cuts his hair himself and it’s choppy as hell, but if anyone points it out he says ‘that’s what he was going for.’ It’s not.

- His hair is naturally dark brown, but he dyes it every few weeks with Ben’s help. Sometimes he dyes the tips red.

- Speaking of Ben, they’re inseparable, to the point that they are SICK of each other. Despite being close with Ben, Jeff has no idea how to play any video games that aren’t Mortal Combat.

- Paints his nails black. He steals buys any colors he thinks look cool, and then never uses them and they expire.

- His favorite color is red, but purple is his second favorite. He won’t admit it because he thinks it’s gay.

- VERY obnoxious about how straight and masculine he is. He won’t eat hotdogs or mayonnaise. Closeted bisexual that he isn’t even aware of.

- Has worn the same pair of converse since he was like 14. They’re covered in sharpie and have mismatching laces. (they’re also tearing at the seams and super gross.)

- When him and Liu were little he was the ‘rebel’ and Liu was the token child, even though Liu tried to get along with him Jeff was bitter about it.

- Listens to heavy metal and super emo music at the loudest volume possible. Has a bunch of speakers in his room which makes it even worse.

𐬿𐬻𐬽𐬻𐬻𐬿𐬻𐬽𐬾𐬼𐬻𐬿𐬻𐬽𐬾𐬾𐬼𐬻

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

On The Hunt: You Broke and I Shattered

Summary- 3.9k Alpha Steve x Little One. You and Steve find where Ulysses is storing his stolen goods; vibranium from Wakanda. Scouting the building, you and Steve separate and Steve struggles with this lone wolf mentality.

Warnings- Steve being upset and lashing out about your relationship with Pan. Reader goes into her heat finally and confronts Steve during it.

A/N- Okay I know it's been a while, LONG WHILE since I have posted these two. Part of me is still apprehensive about your Steve feelings. Be mad and hate him if that is the vibe! I get it, honestly, I do. I can't help but love him as strongly as I always have because I love a broken character that I created. Thank you so much @yenzys-lucky-charm for walking through this and holding my hand with them. For always giving me reassurance to continue this story. You, my dear friend, are a saint for all you do behind the scenes. Dividers made by @firefly-graphics Enjoy, and if you did, please share and reblog. I also love hearing your thoughts and rants about them.

Chapter Seven / Masterlist

It smelled bad. 

The Little Wolf’s nose wrinkled as she scouted the side of the large warehouse. You lost track of Steve after he shifted, the Alpha whisking his muzzle against the Little Wolf’s and then leapt away along the edge of the warehouse. As large as the Alpha was, he was easily able to meld into nothing when he didn’t want to be seen. A skill from many years of hunting. 

The Little Wolf weaved through the large piles of garbage and pallets, using them to keep her hidden from the multitude of cameras outside of the building. The installers had attempted to keep them hidden, but your time working with T’Challa had taught you where to look. 

The Little Wolf was also good at getting by unnoticed, the smaller stature and slinking nature could make her easily pass for a street dog that ran wild. 

The scents assaulting her were so foul and strong. The heavy acidic scent of fear permeates the stone and steel walls, making the Little Wolf’s ears lay flat against her skull, her nose wrinkling in discomfort. 

A scuffle of footsteps caught her attention, sending her into hiding with her radar-sharp ears swiveling towards the footsteps scuttling down the alleyway towards where you were hiding. 

“The shipment’s ready, just need the boss's sign-off.” You heard the man say into a phone and the Little Wolf pricked her ears to catch the last of the conversation. “Yeah, Klaue is expected in a couple days.”

He is not here yet. You mentally sighed, frustrated that there would be a period of waiting around for you and Steve.

<But he will be here soon for us. The Alpha should be coming around any moment, maybe we can get inside.> She was quiet in her movements, easing away from the rambling man whose conversation turned elsewhere, giving them no more vital information. Catching sight of the unlatched door, the Little Wolf paused, glancing around to see that no one was nearby. <Should we wait?> 

We could lose our chance. You urged her, unwilling to wait now that the opportunity of getting inside was just so available to you. 

<The Alpha…> The Little Wolf hesitated, glancing back at the direction Steve should be coming around. 

Will catch up. He can follow our trail and we might lose this entrance if that man comes back to lock this door. This is our chance to see the inside and be prepared for Ulysses. 

She finally relented, using her muzzle to ease the door open further and sneak into the dark interior of the warehouse, a sliver of light the only source into the belly of the beast. 

It was easy remaining out of sight on the main floor, various containers of weapons that all smelled tinged with vibranium littered haphazardly around and in the center of the building were cages, all emptied but you could see that they had been recently used. All providing cover even as a silent snarl flirted across Little One’s muzzle, anger simmering in your chest as well as sadness that you had been too late to save those souls from whomever they were sold too. 

Flashes of your old life, the sales floor clouding your memories while you wandered between them. The fear and pain at being dragged in front of buyers, their hands running all over your naked body and the false promises of giving you a better life if you just bonded with them. 

The vileness of it made the Little Wolf shiver and a soft barely there whine escape. <Never again.> She assured you, the fur along her back bristling in agitation. 

Never again. You agreed with her, calming once more. You escaped, you had known love and safety with your pack and with Steve. Even now with you two separated, you knew Steve still wouldn’t ever allow anyone to use you like that again. 

The Little Wolf eased closer, edging along the last line of containers holding vibranium and weapons, trying to map the building. 

There was a huff nearby and you caught sight of silver fur rows back. Steve found us. The Little Wolf stopped, the tip of her tail wagging in a greeting but the Alpha stalked nearby, his eyes blazing furiously at the Little Wolf. 

She lowered further, feeling the anger roll from him while he slid up next to her, pressing in against her for a moment just to feel her before he silently let his nose wander along the edge of the containers. 

Loud shouts just out of sight called out directions to load pallets onto the truck, making you and the Alpha both freeze for a second. The Alpha turned away and returned to the Little Wolf’s side, rumbling enough so you felt the vibrations rising off him. Not an order from the Alpha but a suggestion that it was time to go. 

You pulled back, leading the way out, and once back outside, no one the wiser, you both bolted away from the warehouse. 

It had been a while since you had returned to the apartment, Steve had been silent most of the time, both of you sketching out the warehouse's interior and tensley comparing notes with one another. But you could feel the tension crackling between you and Steve. All his responses clipped in a tone that you were just not used to from him. 

It was making your Little Wolf uneasy in your mind, pacing back and forth in a skittish way, making you feel like you were about to snap. 

You finally pushed away the notes and sketches of the warehouse, making Steve’s gaze snap to you curiously. “What’s wrong Steve?” 

His brows furrowed together and his mouth thinned with whatever he wanted to say being held back. “Nothing is wrong Y/N. We should contact T’Challa to let him know what we found.” He pulled away, going to grab his phone when you grabbed his forearm to keep him from avoiding the question. Steve stiffened, a shiver going through him and you saw his nostrils flare a bit, dragging in a breath of you. 

“Stop the bullshit Steve, you’re pissed and I don’t know why.” Your Little Wolf yipped anxiously, making you tense up all that much more. 

Clear blue eyes snapped, flaring slightly in a glowing color as the Alpha in him rose to challenge him before he turned to you with a slight bare of his teeth. “You didn’t wait for me Y/N. You charged into that warehouse alone.” 

Your hand dropped from his arm and you immediately snapped back, if you had hackles, they would be raised at the tension finally breaking. “This is what you are pissed about Steve? I was doing the mission. I don’t need your permission to do that.” A snarl emitted from you, daring Steve to bite back. “Not anymore.” 

He rose to the challenge, rounding onto you, his size a sheer force but you held tight, refusing to step back from him. “That’s right Little One, I gave you up and set you free from me.” 

A warning growl escaped you as a bit of tears threatening to well up hearing him. “That you did.”

“You have no regard for your safety, we are supposed to be hunting together and you just go into that building without me and that wasn’t the plan, I don’t care that you went in, but I didn’t know where you were, I just happened to catch your scent in the open door. What if they found you and caught you, what if I couldn’t follow you in?” He pulled away with a yank of his hand through his hair. 

You squared your shoulders, anger making your tone bite in your words. “It’s not your fucking job Steven to keep me safe. Why are you always trying to shield me?” 

“Cause Little One! It still feels like you’re fucking mine, even now while we are unbonded all I feel…” His hand slapped against his chest, where you knew his heart pounded its rhythm. 

“Well that sounds like your problem that you need to figure out. I’m not your Little One.” You tossed out, the pain searing into anger at the Alpha in front of you. “You ‘set me free’ which is utter bullshit, you don’t get to dictate how I work now.” 

It was like whiplash, his brow wrinkling as his sadness seeped through before anger masked his features once again. “Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten. You remind me, you had moved on right… to him?” 

You knew exactly who he was talking about and that made those tears finally fall, your hand lifting and slapping sharply across Steve’s face hard, enough that his head turned with the impact. 

“How dare you, Steve, Pan was my friend when I was broken. My friend Steve, he was exactly who I needed when I was alone. You did this to us. You and that fucking drive to keep me safe. Newsflash Steve, my whole life I fought and I’m never going to stop. Now I’m doing it alone without you. You just thought of how you hurt me while being collared, it was NOTHING compared to what you did in that hospital room. I lost you that day and had to learn how to live without my mate because he didn’t want me anymore.” 

“Fuck Y/N, I never said I didn’t want you.” Steve’s jaw clenched tightly, but the anger from his features was gone, disbelief crowning his features now. His hand reached out to draw you in, but you stepped away, unable to handle the contact.

“You broke me that day Steve and now you don’t like this version I turned into? You have no right to be mad about that.” Your voice cracked, a shiver wracking up your body while the Little Wolf started singing in the back of your mind, her own pain breaking in the song. “I survived being used, I survived beatings in attempts to make me submissive, I survived other Alpha’s scarring me with their bites, I survived all the times they tried purposely to break me into bowing for them and being this meek little pup. But you, Steve I barely survived you.”  

You let out a breath, feeling your chest lighten as Steve stood before you like he was at a loss for words for a moment. Before you would let him say anything, you turned away to your room and let the door shut him out. Exhaustion hit you like a ton of bricks and as you crawled into your bed to sink into that dark place you yet again were hovering in, your Little Wolf crooning to you, you curled into a ball in your bed and let yourself go. 

Steve sat on the edge of the uncomfortable bed in the apartment. It had been hours since you just dropped it all on him, which he knew but hearing it come from you, how your voice became so vulnerable like you were laid open and left to pick up the pieces. To top it off, he knew he was an utter asshole for what he said to you, wishing he could take it back. But it was out there now and he knew he couldn’t take back what he said in a moment of frustration. 

There was no way to take any of the last year back, he knew he acted on instinct back then and he was wrong. All of it was wrong, but he had to live with his actions. Actions had consequences and all he could do now was live with those choices, and give you that freedom. You were right, he couldn’t be mad at what you turned into because he was a part of it all. Something in him shattered that day, hard broken shards that fed all his fears and he was still struggling to not give in to them.

It still didn’t make it easier for him, or the Alpha. The Alpha was furious with him once more. A snarling beast who lashed out to make Steve wince at the rage. But he felt he deserved it, he took each one without a snap back. 

To top the whole fuck up of a day there was a soft wail through the wall of disbelief and it hit every one of Steve’s senses.

Your heat finally arrived and right now you two were stuck together, with no way to give one another space during this vulnerable intimate time. 

And it was almost torture to Steve as his muscles cramped with restraint, resisting the urge to go to you. 

The Wolf simmered somewhere, Steve sensed him close, but he was still staying away from the conscious side. Your scent was heavy with need and that made a ping of guilt well up in him that your heat was going to be worse for you because he was there. 

If you were back in Wakanda he would slip away, leave you in peace to choose the partner you would want to help you through this. But not in the middle of a mission like this.  

<Coward> The Wolf snarled at him, his ears laid flat against his skull and showing his fangs with a snap of his jaw, jolting Steve back to his awareness of his beast. <You would run away instead of staying to take care of her.> 

His head hung from his shoulders, gritting his eyes and clenching his jaw as his own beast tried to take over, howling your song to call for you. His rut was going to be rough, more of his wolfish side coming through, the overbearing need to fuck and take care of his mate would be a whole other torture. 

“Fuck off.” He snarled loudly, aiming at the Alpha but your soft voice cut through his snarl, making his head snap up, his hair disheveled and eyes flashing a brighter color as his nose tilted up to catch your warm honeysuckle scent. 

“Steve.” Your voice was soft in tone and loud in every other way as it broke his inner battle, your hands clutching at a blanket around you, miserable looking. “She won’t stop…” 

Steve guessed, as much as his wolf was trying to take over, the Little Wolf would be too. You were so distressed-looking, shaking in the blanket even though it wasn’t cold. He straightened up, holding out a hand to you. “Come here Y/N.” He growled, unable to contain more of the Wolf coming through. 

It was all it took, the blanket fell from around you, your body to sensitive for anything on you, as you streaked to Steve, his arms circling around your waist and made you straddle his lap. Getting as close as you could be without pinning you underneath him in the bed. His clothes felt so constricting as you settled in close, tears starting to race down your cheeks while your hands slid up his chest, pulling his shirt over his head so you could get skin to skin, which he was thankful for. “I tried Alpha, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” You leaned into him, your breasts pressing against his chest as your face tucked into his neck, hiding away. 

“For what Y/N?” he let his nose press against the back of your neck, inhaling deeply. That alone made the wolf ease back, and let him regain control. Heavy calloused hands went up and down your back as you started sobbing in his neck, your thighs squeezing against him as you rocked your hips slightly to rub against him. 

“For being here with you.” You pushed against him and stared at him with sorrow and pain that Steve couldn’t stop the kisses he flushed over your eyes as more of your tears escaped, tears that he caused. Salty on his lips as they escaped into his beard. His gentleness at the moment, although both of your bodies were screaming to mate with one another, seemed to break you. 

“I’m so mad at you for doing this to me.” You dug your nails into his shoulders, rocking again as he matched your movement, pushing up to give you some relief in your grinding. “I did what you said, I left you alone and you followed me here. I couldn’t escape you with the pack and I still can’t Steve. Why do you make this impossible for me?” You hissed as your mouth sought his, while his kiss stayed gentle, you bit at him, gasping against him as your nails clawed into the muscles of his back. “You left me Steve and it broke me more than anything else that has happened.” If this was your punishment, Steve would take it. Every sharp claw and hissing bite you lashed at him. 

Steve clenched his jaw, unwilling to defend himself and his choices. He did this to you and it was the least he could do was listen. Instead, he pressed you in closer to him, touching you in all the ways he knew made you feel safe and cared for, his lips pressing against yours while you broke because of him. Your pain you lashed onto his back with your nails sharply dragging up to grasp his shoulder and rock yourself in against him once again, he welcomed the pain as he would any of your touches. 

You shook in his hold, pushing away from him enough to look at him, your anger melding into sheer pain. “Was I too weak to be an Alpha’s mate, your mate? Do you regret taking a broken and used Omega? I need to know Steve.”

This he couldn’t stand, not from you of all people. With a sweep of his hold, he twisted you to the bed, on your back while he hovered over you with a bare of his teeth at you, all the long hair falling forward around his face, making Steve look wild above you. Your hands went to cup his face, studying the man you and your little wolf still fiercely loved, your fingers pushing up to weave into his hair. “Is that what you actually believe Little One?” Steve’s tone was graveled, a mix of his voice and the Alpha growling at the same time. “Do you?” He said sharper, making you roll your body up into his solid one, giving a nod when you couldn't say anything. 

His hands caught your wrists and let his nose trace the inside on each one, you went pliant against him finally and he let his whirlwind of emotions settle. He had you and wasn’t planning on letting you go till you knew in your soul that he never would have left you because of those reasons. 

Your hands were pinned swiftly, slamming them into the pillows scattered around his bed. “Little One.” He growled when his lips descended to the soft warmth of your neck column. Kissing behind your ear with much more gentleness than how his hand caged yours over your head. “You really don’t know do you, how much power you have.” His growls were edging on violent, wracking through your body while his touch remained loving, each glide of his hand tracing your side passionate while the other encircled your wrists above your head with controlled strength, the flick of his tongue gliding on your skin and light pressure of sharpened fangs all affection in worshipping you. “How I would do anything for you. You think me walking away didn’t destroy my sanity, made the beast try to claw from his cage?” 

You whined under Steve, your heat simmering on unbearable but his words were making you want to scream. All this time he felt this way and he still managed to walk away, leaving you shattered, your fingers curled, digging into his palm keeping you pinned down. He hissed at the pain but never loosened or pulled away from you. “You still did it, you claim to protect me from you.” 

Steve rose above you, his touch on your waist going to your face, turning your head till you couldn't look away from him. So much filled his gaze locking with yours and your unshed tears of anger, frustration, and pain were mirrored in his. “Because I am weak, scared, and broken. All I could see in that moment was you dead at my feet, that I had destroyed my mate, half of my soul. Alpha’s might seem powerful, but actually, we are empty without our other halves, made to serve our packs but never finding anything beyond that. That day I almost killed mine and I was powerless to stop it." His throat bobbed, swallowing past the emotion that almost seemed to overtake him. "I made a mistake and I see that now Little One, I let fear control me, and look what it did to us. I can’t take it back and will always live with what I did. You are right, I can’t be mad about who you are now because of it, you became stronger. You don’t need me, not really. You, my mate, you have all the power. Fuck, that day I was breaking down thinking I was powerless to control myself...”  His shoulders sagged like admitting this out loud to you took everything out of him. “I should have talked to you about what I was going through instead of running.” 

You eased up the grasp of your fingers digging into his palm, allowing yourself to soften slightly under him. Pulling a hand from his hold, your touch drifted up, sliding around the curve of his neck while you silently counted every little ragged scar circling his throat. Every little barb that dug into him and controlled him. This shattered your Alpha and he was struggling to be better. "I see you Steve." You whispered up at him while letting your thumb wipe under his eyes, clearing away the moisture welling up in those sharp blue eyes.

He reached up to take your palm, curling it against his jaw while he tilted into it, pressing his lips to the center. "I see you too Y/N, I'm so sorry I pushed you away."

Your Little Wolf called out his song again while his eyes scanned over your face, feeling the change in you. Your legs wrapped around his waist, holding him closer. “I could throttle you.” You chirped with a crack in your voice and Steve gave a soft sad chuckle as his head dropped to lean his forehead against yours, giving a little sniffle.

“I know I deserve it.” 

“And what do you want now Steve?” You asked softly, almost a whisper between you two. 

The Alpha was silent, his inhales drawing you in to smother all his other senses, if he could drown in you, he would so happily. “A chance for us, to be the Alpha and your mate you deserve from me.” He pulled away to catch your eyes, such a sharp blue with tinges of yellow melding to give hints of green, the Alpha bleeding through, showing while Steve gave you the answers you sought. “To give you all of me, even the broken parts that need fixing Little One.” 

“If I said I need you to talk to me Steve, you need to let me in instead of just trying to keep me safe from the world.” Your hand twisted in his hold, sliding your fingers through his above your head. “That you won’t shut me out because you are trying to keep me safe.” 

“I will spend my life showing you I can be your partner.” This next kiss was gentle, a brush of his lips to yours as you pulled him back into your hold, his heavy weight on you making you finally feel like you were where you belonged. “And I will wait, as long as you need to be ready for us again, if that is what you want.” 

Ready to be us again… You repeated to yourself, letting his words really take hold. The Little Wolf was a calming presence now, the heat sated enough in just this rebonding moment for you two. You pushed up your hips enough to push against Steve and he instinctively released his hold on you to fall back and take you with him, letting you straddle him while he laid underneath you now, his hands caressing down till they settled on your waist, content to let you decide what you wanted from him next. “I missed you, Steve, we missed you.” 

Your touch slipped up his chest while you moved to settle in against him, ease relaxing through you as his arms slipped around you, hugging you to lay against him and nothing more in the moment. You let your cheek lay against his chest, your head tucked under his bristled chin. You could feel his words as he spoke them out loud. “We were wanderers without our home Little One, we missed you too.” 

[steventhusiast]

STWG daily prompt 27/9/23

prompt: horse

pairing/character(s): steddie

-

Steve's never been to a LARP festival before. If he's honest with himself, when the kids had asked him to come with them (AKA asked him to be their ride and then abandoned him as soon as they arrived), he hadn't wanted to come. He's just weak for Will's particular brand of sad puppy dog eyes.

But now that he's here... He's having a good time.

That's not to say it's his kind of thing. He doesn't think he'd come again. Too much chance to bump into someone wanting to roleplay a medieval conversation that he won't be able to follow, and strange nerdiness. But he's found an area of horses, so he's managing to have a good time.

"Aren't you pretty?" He coos at the particular horse he's found. All of the horses in this area are unattended, but kept in a small pen. Steve assumes the handlers have gone off to eat food or use the restroom or whatever.

He holds his hand up near the horse's muzzle, and holds it there for a moment to see if it'll spook. When it doesn't, he gives its pretty brown coat a gentle pet.

"Very pretty." He mumbles to himself as he continues petting it.

"Why thank you." A voice sounds from directly behind him all of a sudden, and he flinches so hard that the horse spooks a bit.

He whirls round to come face to face with possibly the prettiest man he's ever seen. He's in one of the dumb cosplays everyone here seems to be in, but the ridiculous getup of multiple belts, an old fashioned tunic and obviously fake potion bottles hanging here and there, are working for him. His wavy dark hair has small plaits scattered through it with tiny flowers woven through them, and-

Steve realises he's staring as his eyes finally move to the man's face to find him smirking at him. He becomes re-aware of his closeness to the man, and promptly blushes before clearing his throat and looking away.

"Sorry. Didn't know if I was allowed to pet the horses or not." Steve offers awkwardly.

"You're good. Muffin loves the attention, don'tcha girl?" The man reassures, and that amused smirk melts into a happy grin as he steps around Steve and pats the horse's face a couple times.

"She's called Muffin?" Steve asks, baffled.

"I know. Not very fitting for the theme. The other horses get stage names, but Muffin here refuses to listen to any other name." The stranger explains, and then ceases his gentle patting of Muffin to look at Steve again, "Speaking of names.. What's yours, handsome?"

The flush is back on Steve's cheeks.

"Oh. I'm Steve. You?"

"Eddie."

It's quiet for a moment, and then Eddie glances down at his wrist and pulls back his costume to look at his watch. He nods to himself, pleased, and Steve wonders what he's happy about.

"It's my friend's turn to look after Muffin. What do you say I give you a tour of this joint? You look mighty out of place, Sir Steven."

Eddie bows and holds out a dramatic hand to Steve as he speaks, and Steve finds himself charmed. On anyone else, he'd find this so embarrassing. But Eddie is throwing all his usual standards out of the question.

"Sure." He says, and takes the offered hand.

Maybe he will find himself back at one of these festivals, after all.

[shes-some-other-where]

Rain and Apple Blossoms

[ID: a banner featuring bright red apples, prison bars, and medieval looking text of the story's title, Rain and Apple Blossoms. End ID.]

A nameless convict suffers in a prison camp, sentenced to years of hard labour for his crime. There, he is tormented by cruel guards and an even crueller chief overseer who seems to enjoy humiliating him. Eventually, he escapes, and he finds himself cared for by a kind stranger who is on her own journey of grief and self-discovery. With soldiers still hunting for the fugitive, every moment he spends in his unlikely caretaker's company is a risk to them both.

Heavier on whump than plot. Heavier on hurt than comfort. But it's all there.

Full list of CWs at the bottom of this post.

Written for The Merry Whump of May 2024. All drabbles, exactly 100 words. All connected, but many can be read as standalone pieces. However, if you want to read it as a full "narrative," the suggested reading order is below. (Alternatively, find the list of prompts in event order here.)

Suggested Reading Order

🌫️ The Camp

Day 9 - “You’re nothing.”

Day 27 - C for “convict”

Day 8 - A proud, arrogant fool.

Day 2 - Snake venom and molten sand

Day 2 - “Don’t you dare.”

Day 7 - “Forget about them.”

Day 10 - “I don’t have regrets.”

Day 11 - “Pretty little thing.”

Day 12 - “Let me hear you.”

Day 3 - “See what happens.”

Day 14 - “Leave him alone.”

Day 16 - Your neverending insolence

Day 16 - Twenty-nine and one

Day 16 - “Naïve fool.”

Day 1 - Swallowed by the dark

Day 28 - The indistinct phantoms of nightmares

Day 14/23 - Deserving sinners

Day 5 - The chance to flee

Day 6 - Disobedient dogs who try to run

Day 13 - “To know you'll only fail again.”

Day 8 - “I’m fine.”

🌫️ The Escape

Day 13 - Leave no trail.

Day 7 - The world beyond

Day 6 - A sombre dawn

Day 15 - A fool, a dead man

🌫️ The Cellar

Day 4 - “Who are you?”

Day 15 - “Let me help you.”

Day 17 - “Wait, are you afraid of me?”

Day 24 - “Lean on me.”

Day 23 - Cursed, hunted, condemned

Day 27 - “You’re trembling.”

Day 12 - “I’m dangerous.”

Day 17 - “You’re not a prisoner here.”

Alt Prompt - “No one knows you’re here.”

Day 15 - Her foolhardy selflessness

Day 25 - “Is that wise?”

Day 24 - “Just forget about me.”

Day 30 - “I think you might be a good man.”

Day 29 - “Just another few days.”

Day 15 - Endless pools of sorrow

Day 20 - “Are you alone here?”

Day 24 - “What’s with all the apples?”

Day 13 - “I just wish I could repay you.”

Day 28 - “You've found your smile again.”

Day 25 - “I’ve always loved the rain.”

Day 2 - “What are you doing in my house?”

Day 1 - “What were you thinking?”

Day 18 - “Why do you love him?”

Day 11 - “An arrangement, and nothing more.”

Day 6 - “He would never hurt me.”

🌫️ The Recapture

Day 18 - “Nowhere to run, crook.”

Day 19 - “Rot in hell.”

Alt prompt - “It was her.”

Day 4 - He with no future

Day 20 - “Don’t tell me you forgot about me.”

Day 22 - “It’s been too long.”

Day 22 - A death sentence disguised as mercy.

Day 31 - “Enjoy your last night here.”

Day 31 - “Now you’re a broken man.”

Day 28 - “Hope you enjoyed the last taste of freedom you'll ever have.”

🌫️ The Pits

Day 29 - “You ought to be grovelling at my feet.”

Day 26 - A shambling spectre that once was a man

Day 21 - Leashed, muzzled, and ordered around like a beast

Day 3 - Half-lives in the dust

Day 30 - A creature soft, yet wild

Day 25 - “I’ll always love the rain.”

🌫️ A Free Man

Day 1 - Retribution well-deserved

Day 29 - “You are free.”

Day 29 - Charcoal and silver

Day 26 - Fading stars and blooming sun

Alt prompt - Rain and apple blossoms

Full List of Content Warnings

pain, angst, prison, prison camp, labour camp, forced labour, chains, blood, restraints, cruel law enforcement, branding, taunting, humiliation, physical violence, beatings, very brief minor whump, whipping/flogging, gag/muzzle, exhaustion, thirst/dehydration, mine collapse, minor character death, death mention, failed escape, torture, barbed wire, exposure, guilt, fear, grief, loneliness, prospect of a loveless marriage, betrayal, recapture

[itwasthereaminuteago]

I was at the store and saw this adorable big pupper tied to the pole at the entrance (safely in the shade ofc) and my mind jumped to a meet cute with Frank where he needs to step into a store real quick and when he comes out there's you, crouching next to his rescue pit pupper, doing the full doggy babytalk 🥺

Woman, OMG i've been hoarding this in my inbox hoping i could muster up a lil ficlet...

It's the deep brown eyes that get you first, that draw you in closer as you're walking down the street. Such a handsome face too, a little grey around the muzzle but what a gorgeous smile he has. That's it, you've fallen hard, you're in love. Then the tail wagging starts as you get near to the outside of the store where the friendly pibble dog is tied up under the shade of the awning and you melt a little more.

"oh my goodness hi!" you exclaim, patting your thighs as you bend down a little to say hello. "aren't you such a good boy?! who's the most handsome boy huh?! Is it you? oh is it you baby?"

"I was kinda hopin' it was me, but m'not mad if I lose out to this fella."

A gruff, gravelly voice draws your eyes up from the dog licking at your face to an imposing but equally handsome bearded man with an utterly panty-soaking smile, beautifully mesmerising dark brown eyes, an adorably huge broken nose, and hands that you're instantly daydreaming about being wrapped around your neck.

"uh, hi there."

"hey. I see you've met Harley, and you're right, he is a good boy. I'm Frank by the way."

You get to your feet, your hands still absently petting Harley as you fully take in the wall of hunk talking to you.

"well hi there Frank." you reply with a smile and then introduce yourself. "And what about you, are you a good boy?"

He chuckles and shakes his head, a gentle blush dusting his cheeks and his eyes crinkling in a way that makes you wanna find out what else makes him do that.

"S'not for me to say," he replies, flashing you a shy smile that just made your mind up for you whether or not you make an incredibly bold move.

"That's a very interesting answer," you counter, conscious of the way he's subtly checking you out as he un-knots Harley's leash from the pole. "maybe I could gather some evidence and let you know, over a drink sometime?"

Frank's smile morphs into a grin. "You free just now? Harley and I got this real nice regular joint nearby, they've got some good eats too if you're hungry." Frank tells you as he turns slightly to gesture along the street, inadvertently giving you a view of his ass in those well-fitting black jeans.

"Sure! lead the way, I'll follow that tail anywhere."

😅

[nettleclanstale]

Moon 100

Cw For:

-Offscreen Animal death

Spiderstar blinked awake. He was in the medicine den, the sweet scent of herbs flooding his nose and his vision blurred as he groggily looked around. Every time he moved his broken leg, a jolt of pain would shoot through his body, making him let out soft groans.

While he would've preferred to not have his leg broken, he didn't regret what he did to end up in this situation, saving a clanmate from a rather large dog. 

Twigsplash was talking to Petalcloud, her son. The calico tom was distraught, his sobs echoing through the enclosed space.

"I know, I'm sorry." Twigsplash meowed gently, shushing the distressed warrior and guiding him into a resting position. "But please, please understand...If we didn't remove your leg, you would've died..."

Petalcloud began to speak, but it sounded far away. Spiderstar lowered his head, and went back to sleep.

...

"Let...Cats.....Old enough.....Their own prey....Meeting!"

Drifting in and out of consciousness, Spiderstar's ears twitched at the sound of Crowheart's voice. He heard her say something about Spiderstar's condition, before softly calling Baykit forward.

Right. It was time for her apprentice ceremony.

At Baypaw received her official name and the cheers of the clan rang through camp, Spiderstar drifted off. 

...

When Spiderstar awoke again, it was night. He could hear voices outside, but they were muffled.

All he heard was "Newtbelly", "kittypet", and something about someone joining NettleClan as a warrior. 

Spiderstar felt confused. Was there a newcomer within the clan, someone he wasn't even able to meet just yet? He hoped he would be able to meet them soon...

Quicker than the last few times, Spiderstar's head flopped onto the soft bed of moss, and he fell asleep again.

...

When he awoke this time, Spiderstar found himself in the familiar, starry fields of StarClan. He groaned, hauling himself to his paws. It felt so nice to be able to move again, and be conscious. 

"Be careful, there."

A low, gruff voice made Spiderstar's head shoot up. An elderly tom, his tabby fur a light brown color, was beginning to stride towards him. Despite his graying muzzle and thin fur, a clear sign of his age, his amber eyes were bright and full of the life he had when he was young and living.

Spiderstar dipped his head in greeting. "Lightstar," he meowed, before looking around. "What's happening? Am I losing a life?"

Lightstar's expression shifted to one of pity, and he shook his head. "Fortunately, no. I wanted to show you something. I wanted you to see the truth." He replied, turning and starting to walk away. He flicked his tail, gesturing for Spiderstar to follow him. "Come with me."

The truth? About what? Spiderstar found himself thinking as he trotted after Lightstar. He looked around, watching as StarClan's hunting grounds began to shift and morph into NettleClan territory. Despite the familiarity, there was a strange feeling. A feeling that this wasn't the same place Spiderstar knew and grew to love.

Lightstar sighed, making his way through the strands of tall grass that lead to the river. "Now, this looks like NettleClan's current territory. But don't expect to see anyone you know. This was how NettleClan was many, many moons ago." He explained, turning his head and fixing his gaze on something Spiderstar couldn't yet see. "Come here and watch...Please, keep quiet if you can."

Nodding, Spiderstar took a spot beside Lightstar, following his eyes. A young, dark ginger she-cat was padding through the territory, her pawsteps brisk. Her eyes were wide as she looked around, before finally laying eyes on a large brown tom and bounding over to him. 

"That's Brokensnap, our medicine cat." Lightstar whispered, his tail swishing back and forth in mild annoyance. "And that tom is a loner."

"What's his name?" Spiderstar whispered back.

"We don't know. He never told us." Lightstar's attention went back to the two cats, his expression unreadable. "Keep watching."

Brokensnap purred, touching her nose to the loner's and smiling. The tom returned the affectionate gestures, the happiness on his face evident.

"It's so good to see you, Brokensnap." He purred. "How is your clan?"

Brokensnap's ears flattened, and she let out a soft sigh. "Our numbers are low. NettleClan is dying, and all I can do is watch..." 

The tom frowned. "Oh, I'm sorry."

There was silence, and Brokensnap spoke again.

"There's something I have to tell you."

"Go ahead."

"...I...It's two things, actually. Good and bad. Which would you rather hear first?" Brokensnap questioned, looking up at the tom.

"...The good first."

Brokensnap smiled, letting out a purr. "I'm expecting kits! Your kits! Isn't that great?"

The tom's face lit up, and he tackled Brokensnap with a purr, tail and ears perked with joy. "Really? That's...That's amazing news, Brokensnap! I'm so happy!" He nuzzled the ginger she-cat's face, before pulling away, his smile slowly fading. "But...What could possibly be bad about that?"

Brokensnap's face fell, and she looked away. "You won't get to meet them." She murmured, guilt and sorrow crossing her face. "We can't keep meeting anymore. Not like this. You've made it clear that you're not joining NettleClan, and I'm a medicine cat. Right now I'd rather make sure our kits have a home to stay in. Chasing you and begging you to stay would only hurt us both."

The tom got off of Brokensnap, taking a few steps back. Brokensnap rolled onto her side and lifted her head, looking at the speckled brown cat before her. 

"This...Is your last chance," She meowed, her voice firm yet gentle. "You can join NettleClan. We need new blood, anyway, and I'm sure you'll be accepted. We can stay together, and you can see your kits. Otherwise..." Brokensnap looked away, her tail twitching a couple of times. "You will have to leave. And never see me again."

The tension in the air was palpable as both cats went silent, staring at each other. Spiderstar looked up at Lightstar, who was staring forward with a hardened expression, as if he had seen this scene many times before.

The tom let out a sigh, before turning and slowly padding away. Brokensnap let out a confused, heartbroken mewl, as if she wasn't expecting the outcome.

"I'm sorry, Brokensnap, I really am." The tom stopped, turning to look back at her. "But you said it yourself, I made it clear. I will never allow myself to be tied down to a clan. I want freedom. This is the way things need to be." 

With that, he turned forward, dashing forward and vanishing into the shadows. Brokensnap sat there, stunned, before slowly lifting herself to her paws and padding away towards camp.

Spiderstar looked up at Lightstar. "That's awful!" He exclaimed.

"It is," Lightstar murmured, gesturing for Spiderstar to follow and walking away again. "Brokensnap was young. We were all shocked and mildly angered by her foolishness, but eventually we decided to let it go. To let her stay in the clan and raise her kits. Now..."

He pushed his way into the clearing of NettleClan's camp, and slipped into the nursery. Spiderstar followed. 

Brokensnap was now lying on the ground, a tired smile on her face as she looked down at a tiny brown bundle of fur. A white rosetted she-cat laid nearby, a black and white kit sleeping by her belly. 

"Oh, Brokensnap, that kit is beautiful!" The rosetted she-cat purred. She looked down at her own sleeping kit. "Badgerkit will be happy to have someone to play with...Though, he will be an apprentice soon..."

"Oh, Slatebird, that's fine!" Brokensnap chuckled, nudging her kit. "He's a tom...He's absolutely perfect, though...He was born without one of his legs."

The kit, a brown tom with darker speckles, shifted in his sleep and stretched his limbs, yawning. Spiderstar could see the stub of the missing limb on the kit's front leg. 

"Does he have a name?" Slatebird asked.

"Not yet!" Brokensnap shook her head. "I want to get a feel of his personality before I name him. I want it to be something truly special."

"I understand," Slatebird meowed, and the scenery faded. 

Spiderstar looked around, eyes widening as a new scene began to morph. The moon was high in the sky, a dim glow cast over NettleClan's camp. Rain poured from the ground, and the cats of NettleClan trudged through the rising waters, the flooding reaching their bellies as they stood before the HighStone and looked up at Lightstar, now living. He was still old, still frail, but his expression carried nothing but authority. Despite this, Spiderstar could see an oddly crazed look in his eyes. A look of desperation.

"Cats of NettleClan!" The tom called out, commanding attention. "As you all know, these rains have been persistent for moons, and now we are flooded! I have solid reason to believe that StarClan is angered with us, because we chose to ignore the medicine cat code's violation." His attention turned to Brokensnap, who was standing nearby, looking up at him with narrowed eyes. 

"Brokensnap." He sharply called, making the she-cat flinch.

"Yes...?" Brokensnap replied.

"Your actions, your kit...has caused this tragedy upon us! You must stop this horrid rain before we die!"

Brokensnap lowered her head. "What if we were meant to die?" She asked, earning gasps from the small gathering of cats.

"Medicine cats have had kits before, and StarClan never punished them!" Brokensnap insisted, raising her head again and looking around. "We may be being punished for trying to increase our numbers...Not for my violation of the code."

Lightstar's eyes narrowed, and he lashed his tail. "What are you implying?"

"I am implying that we need to die." 

More shocked gasps rippled through the clan, and Lightstar's fur bristled.

"Brokensnap, are you sure?" He asked. "Did you receive a sign of this? NettleClan has been around for moons! Why would StarClan want us to die out now?? Especially when there's only one other clan..."

Brokensnap hesitated, then nodded. "Yes, I'm sure." She said. "I've been having dreams. StarClan favors QuailClan. If we allow ourselves to die out, they will stop the rains and let every cat be at peace." She then padded away, slipping into the medicine den. Spiderstar saw her exit the den with her son, and run out of camp before anyone could see or stop her. 

Slatebird, who was sitting beside Badgerkit, wrapped her tail around her son protectively. "Lightstar, please, at least make my son an apprentice! It's the least you can do!"

"But he's too young. Five moons old is far too small to be made an apprentice." Lightstar insisted.

"I don't care! Please, my son should pass on as a warrior." Slatebird pleaded. "He's almost six moons old anyway! Please, do this for me."

"Very well. Badgerkit, step forward." Lightstar meowed.

Badgerkit waded forward, looking up at the leader with bright eyes. The rain water had reached his chest, causing his fur to cling to his frame.

"Do you promise to protect your clan, even with your life?" Lightstar asked, his voice shaky.

Badgerkit nodded. "Yep!"

Lightstar grimaced, then dipped his head. "Then I hope StarClan hears my blessing. NettleClan welcomes you as Badgerpaw, until you receive your...Your warrior name." He said.

Cheers and chants erupted from the small crowd, and Badgerpaw puffed out his chest. 

Brokensnap entered camp again, once again coming into the medicine den. Her son was gone. She came back out with a bundle of leaves, stepping in front of the gathered cats and looking at all of them.

"NettleClan cats, hear my words." She meowed, her voice muffled. "I have poppy seeds with me. This is an odd request but I must ask that you take them and fall asleep. When you wake up, you will be in StarClan's hunting grounds, where hunting is endless and pain is gone." 

Frightened murmurs could be heard, but the cats of NettleClan made their way forward, gathering around Brokensnap and taking their share of poppy seeds.

Spiderstar watched as Badgerpaw padded over to his mother, looking up at Slatebird with a purr.

"Mama, mama, look! I'm an apprentice!" He exclaimed. 

"I see, love." Slatebird sighed, touching her nose to Badgerpaw's forehead. A pained smile crossed her face as she looked at her son's joyful expression. "Now listen, Badgerpaw. We're going to take some medicine! You'll feel a bit funny, but...Afterwards we'll be happy. Come on."

As the two approached Brokensnap, the scene faded once more. Spiderstar looked up at Lightstar, eyes narrowed.

"What just happened!?" He demanded, and Lightstar slowly turned his head to the brown tabby.

"I wasn't myself. I was old." Lightstar murmured, expression mournful. "Don't you think I feel awful? My delusions caused the deaths of everyone, and I blamed someone else for it."

A new scene appeared before Spiderstar. The sun was shining through the trees, and the flooding had lowered. NettleClan's camp was destroyed, dens battered and broken. 

Spiderstar looked around, his heart sinking into his stomach. "Is this the aftermath? Where are the bodies?"

Lightstar nodded, expression stoic. "Yes. We were drowned. Fortunately nobody felt any pain, our bodies were swept away by the water, and we all woke up in StarClan when it was all over...Well, all of us except one."

A soggy lump of black and white fur pushed through one of the destroyed dens, and Badgerpaw poked his head out. He staggered to the center of the clearing, steps wobbly, and just stood there, looking around and shivering. Spiderstar's ears flattened as the tiny apprentice staggered out of camp, confused and dazed as he called for his mother.

"How did he survive?" He asked, glancing at Lightstar. 

Lightstar's whiskers twitched. "StarClan decided that he wasn't meant to die. I suppose they saw potential in him." He sighed, turning away. The scene of NettleClan faded for the last time, replaced by StarClan's territory once again. "But you know the truth now."

Spiderstar frowned. He now felt more confused than he did before. "Why did you show me that?"

"Because NettleClan is rebuilt now." Lightstar meowed in reply. "Now that Badgerstar, you, and even Hazelstar have formed a functioning clan again, it's only fair that you learned your history. I would've shown it to Hazelstar, but..."

"No. I know." Spiderstar interrupted him, lifting a paw. "Hazelstar doesn't need that information."

Lightstar nodded. "Correct. But now it's time for you to wake up. You have things to do."

"But I have so many questions!"

"Silence. More will come when you're ready." Lightstar's tail lashed, but he touched his nose to Spiderstar's forehead. The world around the leader began fading to black, and Spiderstar felt a strong drowsiness wash over him.

"Rest now, Spiderstar..." Lightstar's voice, gentle yet firm, echoed in the tom's head as he awoke. "Remember what you've seen. Remember the truth."

As Spiderstar woke up, still in the medicine den, he could feel his mind reeling with thoughts and questions. Careful not to put too much pressure on his broken limb, he began to think.

Was that just a dream? It was possible. He had been pretty groggy earlier, his injuries causing various states of consciousness. It made sense for him to have such a vivid dream.

But what if it wasn't a dream? Spiderstar laid his head between his front paws, the tip of his tail twitching. He was tired, and could feel himself drifting off to sleep again.

If it wasn't a dream, there was only one major question that flowed through his mind. 

If that was actually a vision, a story of NettleClan from so long ago...

Was any of it true? 

Spiderstar didn't know, and he was determined to find out.

End.

[daffi-990]

WIP Wednesday 📝

Me: oh yeah the Eddie breakdown fic will probably only be about 5k

Also me: is 6K into said fic with the end not even in sight 😅

Gotta love when a fic gets away from you haha. Anyways, I was going to share this snippet yesterday but opted for the Buck/Taylor one instead cos it felt more of a tease. This one … I really like the dog metaphors I used in the fourth paragraph and really want to share it with you. Enjoy!

“You planning on moving in?” Eddie jokes as Buck walks into the lounge room with his stuff.

Buck laughs but there’s not much humour behind it. “Uh maybe?” Buck dumps his suitcase on the couch and turns back to Eddie. “Taylor and I we- we broke up.” He spreads his arms to the side in a what can you do way, huffing when he drops them, the sound of his hands hitting his jean clad thighs loud in the silence that his news has brought.

Eddie’s face remains neutral, but his eyes flicker with emotion, the briefest flash of hope lighting up his irises and Buck wants to pause time, to take a moment and ask Eddie what it means. Is it the same hope that beats inside Buck’s own heart? Clawing at the cage of his own making every time Eddie’s touch or gaze lingers for too long to be brushed under the veil of friendship. But just as fast as the hope appeared it’s gone again, concern now etched all over Eddie’s face, his eyes also holding a small sentiment of relief.

Buck knows Eddie has never been a fan of Taylor’s. From the day she sauntered into the firehouse after they’d rescued her, Eddie’s hackles were up, like a dog when someone is unwelcome in their territory. He’d bared his teeth but Taylor had claws and wasn’t so easily deterred. At Buck’s insistence, Eddie had pulled back, grumbling and growling, and when Buck had announced they were dating, Eddie’s growling died down and he became impassive, making sure to be polite to Taylor when she was around. Buck has always suspected though that Eddie took his issues and dislikes about Taylor to someone else, needing to snarl and gnash about the interloper but not wanting to upset Buck.

Eddie has none of that reservation anymore, the news of Buck’s breakup unlatching the muzzle that’s kept his best friends bark quiet for too long.

“I’d say I’m sorry you guys broke up, but I’d be lying.” Buck snorts at Eddie’s honesty, the other man grinning sheepishly before his expression turns more sincere. “I am sorry you’re hurting though. I know you loved her. God knows why.” An incredulous look crosses Eddie’s face that Buck doesn’t think he meant to make and for some reason it sets Buck off, laughter bubbling out of him.

It doesn’t take long for Eddie to follow, his laugh such a wonderful and welcomed sound after last night. It’s a light among the darkness, a sign that Eddie is still here and fighting, not lost to him in the pain of his past.

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