#joint care dog treats

[earthgenics]

When selecting calming chews, it’s important to look for products that are GMP sealed and made in the USA. At Earthgenics, our Ultra Calming dog chews are manufactured under strict supervision and undergo verified laboratory testing to ensure the highest quality standards. We stand behind our products and offer a customer care department that is always available to answer any questions or concerns you may have.

[twizzie-lairs]

My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 14- FINALE!)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |

Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 - Final

Part 14:

A few weeks had passed by the time you were fully recovered. In those weeks, the hotel was busy and bustling in preparation for the wedding.

To make sure you recovered properly, Charlie insisted that she and Vaggie be in charge of wedding planning during this time. You didn't have any objections to it, your only requirements were that it was kept low-key (meaning a small wedding with only those closest to you guys) and that it was to be a simple and short ceremony with Charlie as the officiant.

While the rest of the gang were busy going about their normal lives and helping out with some preparation here and there, Alastor had your belongings moved to his room and took care of your injuries and saw to your recovery personally.

It broke his heart to see how badly you had been injured prior to your arrival at the hotel. He also felt extremely guilty about how roughly he had treated you, accidentally making some of your injuries worse temporarily. To heal his heart and mind, he had to heal your body first.

The two of you spent so much time together, hardly ever spent a moment apart- you two had a lot of lost time to make up for after all. Often as Alastor tended to your injuries, changed your bandages, and even helped bathe you to ensure you wouldn't slip or fall as you got in and out of the tub- you two exchanged stories of all kinds. Stories from when you were both alive, your pasts when alive, and so much that had happened in the decades in Hell that had passed when the two of you were separated.

As the date of the ceremony approached, after you had mostly recovered, matters required you to leave the hotel more often.

For example, when it came to dress shopping, Alastor was very insistent that he had to come with- he was still very paranoid that if you were separated from his side that you would come to harm. Though with enough pestering- Charlie was finally able to convince him to stay at the hotel so that the wedding dress shopping party only consisted of you, Charlie, and Angel.

Shopping with the two of them was a fun memory you'll never forget, with lots of laughter because of the hilarious contrast between Charlie's wholesome comments/tearing up and Angel's teasing/cat-calling (in a loving way- of course). Though when you finally tried on the dress, even Angel had no witty comebacks to respond with, both him and Charlie were left speechless.

Angel and Charlie weren't the only ones speechless - when those who were invited to the wedding showed up the hotel, they all had their mouths gaping open at the amazing decor. They few guests assumed that the invitation they received in the mail was a prank!

(Charlie may have needed to ask some favors from Lucifer for the decorations- though he couldn't hide his disgust as to who his daughter was asking him to do this for... His distaste for Alastor was always apparent. But who are we kidding- Lucifer can't resist Charlie's puppy-dog begging eyes no matter what.)

Jovial jazz music filled the air as Alastor walked out into the main lobby, "Why hello! It is so good to see you, Rosie! ... Mimzy."

"Oh Alastor! How come ya never introduced me to ya darlin' (y/n) before!" Rosie flashed her signature smile and sauntered over to give Alastor a tight hug.

"Yeah! Geeze, Alastor, after all we've been through, you never thought to bring her over to my joint or ya know, let me know she was even down here! I've missed the gal too, ya know!" Mimzy stomped on over to Alastor, hands on her hips as she glared at him.

"Hmmmm. Ah yes, Mimzy. How could I ever forget to bring her over to your... "sophisticated"... bar where she "definitely wouldn't" be in danger?" Static noises started to interrupt the music that had started playing earlier. Alastor would be lying if he said he was happy to see Mimzy. He knew she was important to you, but part of him can't help but blame her for your early death. Not only that, but she always had a habit of bringing trouble wherever she went, forcing him to clean up her messes. He didn't trust her to keep you out of danger.

"Well! If I do say so myself, I am parched! Where can a lady quench her thirst in this joint?" Rosie piped up to break up the tension as she walked around the room and examined the decor some more. "Alastor, I really love what ya guys did to this place- stunning work, really!"

"Oh my gosh, hi, Rosie! Nice to meet you again, Mimzy! It's been so long!" Charlie seemingly burst out of nowhere and shook both Rosie and Mimzy's hands. For once Alastor was thankful for the princess's ability to not read the room.

"This way, this way! The ceremony will be held in one of the ballrooms, follow me!"

After being relieved of Rosie and Mimzy's presence, Alastor disappeared into the shadows to retreat into this radio tower where he would remain until it was time.

With Rosie and Mimzy's arrival, the last of the guests had arrived. Yup, it was a very small group- just as you had requested (much to Alastor's relief. He could easily handle people, but you knew large groups of people irritated him much more than he would let on).

Meanwhile, Angel was helping you get ready. He knew his way around makeup and beauty the best out of anyone in the hotel after all.

You sat on a stool as Angel fussed over all the little details of your hair and makeup. As he did so with remarkable speed (due to his many arms), you found yourself smiling.

Not only was it the day that you would finally exchange vows with your beloved Alastor, but you found yourself smiling as you reminisced on the journey that led up to this moment- how you've come to truly cherish your newfound friendships with everyone at the hotel.

Angel, who became a very close friend to you after you two had many heart-to-hearts and shared a fondness for cracking jokes, something you discovered over many nights at the bar together. Often after you two were done at the bar, you'd have beauty/spa nights which often led to more gossip sessions- something you were never able to indulge in when you were alive. Occasionally even Cherri joined in on the gossip sessions- practically bursting the door down if she ever felt like stopping by unannounced.

Husk, was someone you could always trust him to give his honest and objective opinion on anything you asked- which you found to be invaluable whenever you showed him any of your art. Though he often didn't understand the abstract complexities you drew, it was always a great source of entertainment for you- his confusion apparent as he tried to interpret it seriously before giving up with a "Fuck it, I don't know anything about this bougie shit!" - always causing you to erupt in laughter every time without fail.

Charlie, of course, was always your ray of sunshine and was someone you very much respected. She saved your life without knowing who you were, regardless of the potential danger. You feel as if you'd never be able to repay her kindness, so you offer to stay at the hotel even after you recover and help work however you can after the wedding.

Vaggie, you felt a kindred spirit in and also respected a great deal. Someone with such an intense sense of justice and duty was truly a sight to see, you could always see it in her eyes. She was often busy, so you hadn't been able to spend as much time with her as you would have liked to so far, the few times you were able to sit down with her were always a pleasure. Whenever she needed love/relationship advice, she came to you. Funnily enough, Charlie did too, so you were flattered that the two girls liked and trusted you so much.

Even Nifty, who always made sure to dust you or pluck some random out-of-place hair whenever she saw you, stopped calling you stinky! You wondered if it was because you spent most of your time around Alastor...?

"Alright! Hehe, you look absolutely stunning if I do say so myself, doll face!" Angel stood back from you to admire his work with a huge satisfied grin on his face.

He spun you around to face the mirror that your back was previously facing, "Hey, whaddya think? One of my best works yet!"

You chuckle and lean in closer to the mirror, "Wow... Angel! Gosh... you never cease to amaze me!"

You then stand up and give Angel a hug, "Thank you... Angel... this means a lot to me..." Angel pulls back from the hug and nudges you in the shoulder, "Hey now toots, no crying on me now! We just finished your makeup, don't go ruining it now!"

"I know! I know! Haha!" You laugh and smack him back playfully.

"Ah shit, it's almost time, we gotta get a move on, come on!" Angel quickly grabs your bouquet with one hand and takes your hand wit another and leads you down what feels like a maze of corridors. He lets go of your hand when the two of you reach a set of double doors that indicates it's one of the ballrooms and not just a regular room.

Upon hearing your arrival, you see Charlie's head peek out of the door. After seeing you standing there, she quickly sneaks of the ballroom. "FIrst of all- oh my gosh (y/n)! You look BEAUTIFUL! But it's time for your entrance, lets go!" Charlie offers her arm out to you. You link your arm through her's, then you look over at Angel who hands you your bouquet, "You got this ,(y/n)." He said with a wink before slipping into the ballroom.

You took a deep breath and looked at Charlie who gave you a heartwarming nod as she took a step closer to the door, hand grasping the handle. "Ready, (y/n)?"

"I've been ready for decades."

Upon entering the small ballroom, soft jazz music filled the air and you gasped as you took a look around the stunningly decorated space. Charlie was very insistent that this be a surprise and by god, you were speechless- you never could have dreamed of a more beautiful space to finally exchange vows with your beloved Alastor. You were starting to get misty-eyed already!

The very same Alastor who was now all dressed up in a new formal outfit and stood at the other end of the ballroom with his hand outstretched towards you. It took all the self-control you had to keep you from running into his arms right then and there.

Walking to the front, you pass by the small group of friends both you and Alastor had invited to this exclusive occasion. You could see Rosie clutching her hands to her chest in awe, Mimzy was trying to fight back tears as she kept dabbing her eyes (ruining her makeup in the process), and the rest of the hotel members. Angel was clinging onto Husk for dear life as you heard a quiet whisper from the spider that was accompanied by a dramatic sniffle, "Oh god I never knew I was capable of feeling so sappy."

You chuckled at the sight of Nifty, who volunteered to be your "flower girl". She was scurrying all around, scattering petals but then immediately picking them back up again like it was the best game ever!

"Oh, be still my dead-yet-beating heart" You thought to yourself as you finally reached the front of the ballroom and were able to place your hands in Alastor's. You'd never seen Alastor this dressed up before. You always thought he was attractive but oh my god, was this a whole new playfield that you didn't even know was possible!

Charlie then went to stand next to Vaggie, who were both your officiants for the wedding. A bit untraditional, sure, but this was Hell- everything's a bit unconventional here.

The music fades to a quiet level before Charlie pipes up, starting the ceremony, "Thank you all for coming to celebrate this momentous occasion with us today! Today we are here to commemorate the marriage between (y/n) and Alastor!"

"In a shocking twist of events, the last few weeks have proven us wrong that yes, even the Radio Demon, is still capable of love." This remark from Vaggie earns a few chuckles from those sitting in the guest seats, earning a glare from Alastor as he tightened his grip on your hands. You rub your thumbs over his hands in reassurance, causing his grip to relax again. You smile at Charlie and Vaggie, nodding as you signal them to continue.

Charlie cleared her throat before she continued, "Ahem! Yes! But with that, we also gained an amazing new friend here - (y/n)! And I just want to say (y/n) that I am SO proud of you, you've done nothing but bring lots of joy and laughter into this hotel. I think I can speak for everyone when I say that we love you and appreciate you (y/n)! Alastor is a very lucky man and we are honored to be a part of your journey!" You could hear some applause and a holler that likely came from Angel- because you heard a scoff from Husk that followed immediately after.

"That's right, Charlie! Because we respect you both so much, we'll not delay you two love-birds from finally exchanging your vows any longer." Vaggie said as she dragged Charlie away to take a seat in the audience.

You take a deep breath and look into Alastor's eyes, your heart racing a mile a minute.

"I honestly thought I would know what to say by now! I've been dreaming of this day for decades!" You nervously laugh out loud before continuing, "All I can think about now is how thankful I am to have met you when we were alive. You gave me a spark of light and hope in the darkness that I never thought was possible in my life. Meeting you gave me the courage to break free from the cage that kept me trapped like a poor little bird who couldn't fly free. You showed me what true love should be like- even if it meant eating a few people along the way... haha. But you treasured me, you gave my life meaning again and I'll always love you. I'll always be your's, Alastor."

You look down at the floor, embarrassed that you spilled your heart out in front of so many people. Now it was Alastor's turn to reassure you with a gentle squeeze of the hands.

"My dearest (y/n), now, I am not usually one to be so 'sappy'- especially in the company of others, however, I think I can make an exception for you this one time."

Alastor took one hand, the other still holding your other hand, and gently lifted your chin back up so that your gaze would be back on him. To say that this made your heart skip a few beats would be an understatement!

"It may still shock you all, but yes, (y/n) is indeed my beloved that was taken from me all too soon back when we were alive. When I buried her body and held her in my arms for what I thought was the last time- I said these words that still ring true to this very day and will continue to do so forever more-, ' In life and in death, I am forever yours, as you are forever mine. I love you, (y/n)' " You feel the tears start to well up even more, threatening to burst forth at any second, all while not breaking eye contact with him as he continues on.

"I truly relish in this opportunity to finally make you mine, as I had wished to do so for what feels like an eternity. Much like you had described dear, your surprise appearance in my day-to-day life truly shook my world. Why, upon meeting you for the very first time, hearing your voice felt like it was akin to listening to most beautiful music I had ever heard- truly! As a radio host, I was very familiar with many musicians, but no instrument or vocalist ever held a candle to you my dear. No ever has and no one ever will, and I will be sure to protect you at all costs this time, ma chérie ..."

As he trailed off, your face immediately flushed red all over at Alastor's vows. But before you had time to process what was happening, Alastor manifested a new pair of rings and slid one onto your left hand, replacing the previous one. Then with a snap of the fingers, the other matching ring appeared on his left hand.

Somehow the rings were even more beautiful than the one you had before. Upon seeing the sight of both your and Alastor's hands finally wearing matching rings, you burst out into tears, overcome with emotion.

Alastor chuckles before pulling you in for a kiss- shocking everyone in the room, everyone making a collective gasp. Even your own eyes were wide open in shock, before you then relaxed into the kiss in Alastor's embrace.

It wasn't before long that the room was filled with cheers, hoots, hollers, and clapping.

Pulling away from the kiss, Alastor leaned his forehead against your's- just a brief sigh of contentment escaping his lips as he stared lovingly into your eyes. You sniffle as you return the smile, chuckling at the sensation of your cheeks feeling sore from smiling so much and so intensely.

"I truly adore you with all my heart and soul, dearest. Thank you, for being the one to complete me."

Tag List:

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[orionremastered]

hi! I was wondering how the bats would be with a reader who is disabled or has prosthetics? they're all just very protective of people they care about since...everything, and how maybe that could start to feel sufacating at some point? Or something, idk dude

(also-the way you write is realy cute and sweet for all of them, makes them feel a lot less heavy when they have someone to hold them <33)

Masterlist

Batboys with a Disabled S/O

Dick Grayson [Fully Deaf]

A gentle touch on your shoulder prompts you to slowly turn around, a smile stretching across your face when you realise your boyfriend's back from work.

You pull him into your arms, threading your fingers through his hair. Pulling away reluctantly, you give him a kiss on the tip of his nose.

But he's not smiling; only a sad smile that makes you tilt your head in a silent question.

Don't worry about it, he signs. Have a good day?

You nod, though your frown remains when he moves to the kitchen, always adamant that he cooks whenever he's home. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, frowning at the caller ID and puts the phone on speaker as he begins cooking.

Dick gets more and more angry as the conversation goes on, his hands waving wildly around the small kitchen, only stopping to return to the cooking.

Finally, he hangs up. You tap him on the shoulder and he turns, watching as you sign;

Who was that?

Dick's shoulders raise and drop. A case I'm working on. I'll figure it out.

You nod slowly, satisfied with his response.

Jason Todd [Fully Blind]

Mornings with Jason always start like this. They always start with you gently running your fingers across his face, mapping it out and imagining it in your head. Over his nose, his lips, his stubble.

"Did you clean the apartment?" you ask, lying on top of him as your guide dog sits next to you on the mattress. "I almost knocked one of your guns off the counter yesterday."

"I did," he murmurs. You rest your fingers on his lips and feel that they're stretched into a smile. "I'm sorry for letting it get messy."

"That's okay," you reply quietly, "Ollie picked it up before it hit the floor."

Ollie, your guide dog, makes a huffing sound beside you, causing you both to chuckle.

"Good boy," Jason says proudly, feeling him shift underneath you, mostly likely to pat Ollie.

"You're both good. Too good, maybe."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jason asks.

"Hmm."

Tim Drake [Classical Ehlers-Danlos syndrome]

"Love? Can we go for a camping trip on the weekend with my friends?"

Tim turns his head slowly as he sits in his study chair. He taps the pen he's holding against his lips. "What happens if you get exhausted?"

"We can go back to the tent and rest."

"You can get bruises. A lot of bruises," he frowns, gesturing for you to walk to him. You comply.

"That's fine, they're just bruises," you respond, sitting on his lap. He begins gently drawing shapes on the bare skin of your thighs.

"You could dislocate something," he says to you, quieter now.

"You know how to put it back. You do it for me all the time."

Tim's brow furrows at the reminder of having to put back in dislocated joints more often than he'd like. "Fine. But if you even start to get a little tired, you tell me. Okay?"

You rest your forehead against his and murmur, "Okay."

Damian Wayne [Prosthetic Arm]

"I'll take those—"

"Damian, I love you, but I can put shopping bags into the car just fine." This and many similar conversations have been going on practically since the start of your relationship. And while you do find it endearing that he cares, sometimes you just want him to treat you like you didn't lose your right arm in an accident.

The man scowls. "But—"

"I'm not going to hurt myself, really."

He watches you warily, weighing the outcomes of the situation. "Fine. Only the lighter ones."

You suppose it's better than not being able to do any of them. Still, he watches you like a hawk as you put the lighter ones in the back of the car he bought you (you protested but that man has the most selective hearing).

He closes the trunk/boot after the bags are inside.

"Can I drive?" you ask, hoping you'll get luck there too.

"No."

"I know how."

"No."

[writingwisterias]

Day 3: Cock Warming

RE4R! Leon Kennedy x AFAB! Reader Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, Cock Warming, Desk Sex, Dom Leon, Sub Reader, Unprotected Sex, Oral (M Receiving), Slight Dd/Lg Dynamic Masterlist

You could hear his footsteps going between the office and bathroom as Leon tackled his never-ending stream of paperwork and emails. Never mind the fact that you had partly been the reason it was taking him so long but ever since he's been back from Spain he seemed so distant. He wasn’t ignoring you but trying to get through the reports he had to type so he could spend time with you, but after you made too much noise or fidgeted on his lap constantly distracting him, he kicked you out of the office with a stern look. You could have accepted defeat and waited until he was ready to shower you with love, but that wasn’t fun. With the growing arousal from your thoughts and plan you waited until you heard his footsteps pad towards the bathroom again. 

Once you heard the soft thuds of his feet leave the room you dashed as quietly as you could. Sneaking your way under the desk making sure you were tucked away hidden until he returned. You could hear him groan slightly as he stretched out his muscles, his joints clicking audible from how long he had spent at his desk. The chair scraped across the floor as he pulled it out ready to sit on it for another few hours only to smirk and let out a low chuckle when he saw you curled into the space with an innocent smile. “And how may I help you?” He joked when he sat in the chair, watching you uncurl yourself slightly so you were sat obediently on your knees. You rested your chin against his knee looking up at him with doe eyes. “Well?” He added, his voice slightly lower. His eyebrow quirked up as he waited for a response. “I just missed you” You whined. He almost caved, he could feel his chest ache at your words; at the display of your devotion to him despite what he did for work. His hand ran through the strands of your hair, petting you like some dog. You didn't care he was showing you a slither of attention. Leon smirked at your effort not to move, to keep still as you received the affection he was offering to you. “How about you keep me company under here and I’ll treat you afterwards?” He said. 

You thought about it, you had no idea how much work he had left or how long it was going to take him. However, all doubts left your mind as he freed himself from his sweats. His cock was always such a pretty colour to you, a long vein running up the length becoming more prominent the longer to look at him. “Don’t be shy” he teased as tapped the tip against your lips, the pre cum smearing like it was a lip gloss. You welcomed him in, your tongue flattening on the underside of his length. You adjusted your breathing through your nose, resting your head against his thigh as you settled in between his legs. Your pussy throbbed in excitement the walls clenching over nothing as you tasted the saltness of him. Leon grunted slightly, the only sign he gave off that you were affecting him. However, after he composed himself he adjusted himself in the chair ‘accidentally�� thrusting himself further into the back of your throat, a small smirk grew on his face as you choked slightly. 

Your jaw began to ache, you had made a mess of the grey sweat as your drool dribbled around his length and down your chin. He was now painfully hard inside your mouth, his cock twitched every time you attempted to swallow. Leon was now leaning forward as he proofread his document, his hand playing with the ends of your hair in a comforting manner. You were almost ready to fall asleep, completely content with being in his space. That was until he jolted again forcing his cock further into his mouth. Leon’s control was loosening the more he looked down. His balls were soaked with dribble, the fabric now cooling as the evening temperature began to settle in. He watched you smile around his cock, your mouth stretched so perfectly and willingly for him. “Doing so well, I’m almost done” he spoke looking down at you with a smirk. You whined around his cock, whimpering at his tip twitching at the back of your throat. His fingers slowly gripped the back of your head, helping you move your head up and down his length as he read the last paragraph. Making sure he was well-prepped for what he was about to do. 

Leon tapped your cheek, and your eyes flicked up to his widening at the darkened stare he was giving you. His eyes were blown out with lust. You heard the laptop shut, the draw beside your head opening as he slid the device inside. He tidied the papers, each time he stretched or moved his cock jolted inside you. Your whimpers vibrated around the length; making sure to gather every inch that slipped from your lips as he moved. He gripped your head again, slowly dragging you off his cock with a pop. He grinned at the line of saliva that connected your lips to him, your jaw aching now it was no longer filled. Leon helped you stand up, holding you as you stretched out your knees. Once he was satisfied you were loosened up he pulled you in for a kiss, his body backing you up towards the desk. You gasped as you tripped, your back hitting the cold wood. Leon smirked at you his teeth instantly grazing your neck as his fingers searched for your drenched underwear. The pads of his fingers swiped at the drenched fabric admiring the way it looked in the light as he pulled away with a smirk. “I promised I would reward you didn’t I if you were a good girl?” He spoke against your ear, his hands looping inside the waistbands of your underwear as he began to tug them down your leg. “Do you think you were a good girl, keeping my cock warm like that?” 

You nodded smiling at the attention he was finally giving you after days. “Such an attention whore” He grunted, his cock entering in a fluid motion. You were both more than ready, the wet sounds of your activities filling his office, the wood beneath becoming damp as your arousal dribbled out. Leon’s hands gripped at your waist, admiring the way your breasts bounced with every movement. His hips drove into you with such force you were propelling up the desk. Your eyes were hazy as they met his, babbling nonsense at him as you smiled. White hot pleasure thumped throughout your system, and your clit twitched as the cold air breezed passed it. Your eyes took in Leon’s muscles clenching, watching as his mouth opened letting out deep primal groans as his release drew near rapidly.

You threw your head back, breathless moans leaving your lips as you arched yourself into him. Your body went limp as your orgasm finally shattered throughout you. Leon took advantage and moulded you into the position he needed, your legs thrown over his arms as he took a deeper angle dragging your body across the desk to meet his thrusts. Soon enough he buried himself deep inside of you, his seed coating your walls and spilling out into the mess you had already made. You could feel the bruises already forming on your hips from his iron grip, your eyes finally met his. Though he held such lust that you knew you were in a round two as he scooped you up in his arms- his cock still snugly inside you as he carried you through to the bedroom. The door slams shut behind you both with one kick.

Taglist: @kasueli @luvrgreyy @michellekmsh @miss0giarra @cinnabunnysavvy @redollface @my-loved-figure-skates @drawboo22 @luvlouiee @moth-quasar @nyxxoxo

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Follow You Anywhere 8

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: double chapter friday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You put on the outfit Sy picked out. The lilac skirt and the matching razor back tank top are a bit mismatched in style but the colour is almost exact. You add a silver necklace to add a bit more to the top and even out top and bottom. 

You take out a pair of white keds and slip them on. As you do, Sy stand on the door mat with Aika prancing excitedly around him. He deepens his voice and tells her to sit. She obeys, still trembling with elation as he hooks her leash into place. 

As you stand, you find his attention on you. His eyes scale up and down your body as you brush your hand up and down one arm. He tilts his head and his cheek dimples as he exhales through his nose.  

“Well, let’s go,” he commands and Aika jumps to her feet as you nearly leap in place. 

He opens the door, your keys already in his pocket, and he waits for you to go ahead of him. He turns to face the door as he shuts it. He has the leash around two fingers as he slides the keys in the lock and turns. 

As he turns towards the hall, he stops and looks at you. You waver, uncertainly, cautious of a single misstep. He offers the leash. 

“Why don’t you take her, sweetie?” He says, “two of you needa get used to each other.” 

You take the leash as Aika waits patiently. At least she’s trained well. You only ever had cats so you’re not entirely sure about dogs. They’re cute, sure, but a lot stronger. 

You continue down the hall and to the stairs. Sy walks calmly beside you. You’re happy at least that the rage no longer roils off of him, though a tension remains. You sense it in the subtle twiddle of his thick fingers and the way he keeps popping and cracking his joints. 

Outside, the sun glints blindingly above, casting a shine much too bright for your mood. Aika stops and the leash tugs in your hand. You turn back as she pees in the grass and step closer to slacken the leash. Oops. You make a face. 

“It’s okay, sweetie, you’re doing good,” Sy encourages, “she can be a bit wild when she wants to. Probably more like you than you think.” 

His suggestion makes you want to frown but you won’t let him see your discomfort. You continue down the sidewalk, keeping pace with the sniffing dog as Sy lazily swaggers behind you. She stops again then crosses to the other patch of grass. You follow her. 

If it wasn’t for your company, you might enjoy the day. There’s bumblebee’s digging into stores of pollen, buzzing around vibrant petals, and birds cheeping from the interior of bushes, and wispy clouds across the sky. You might have taken a picture or two, even though your phone lens rarely catches the true beauty of the world. 

You continue around the corner and suddenly Aika darts forward. She pulls you nearly off your feet and you stomp clumsily after her, trying not to topple. You see what she sees only as she gets within snapping distance of the fluffy cat. The feline hisses before dashing away and you pull back the barking dog. 

“Aika,” Sy says firmly and quiets the canine, “good girl.” 

The silt in his voice makes even you freeze. You peek back at him and hold out the loop of the leash. You recoil as you notice the phone in his hand. Your phone. The little pearly wrist band hangs from the corner of the blush pink case. He has the lens aimed right at you. 

“Say hi,” he waves from his side of the phone, “got my girls out for a nice walk in the sun.” 

“What are you--” you quiet, realising what must be going on. 

“Your fans want to see you, sweetie,” he chimes. “Isn’t she cute? My lady. Waited for me so long.” 

He turns the camera around, holding it at arm’s length as he comes to stand beside you and faces the sunlight. You gulp as his hand goes to your hip and he pulls you close, leaning in to press his jaw to your head, angling the phone up to capture both of you. You try to smile. 

“Finally going public,” he sounds almost giddy, “military sh—stuff. Couldn't disclose it til I got home but here we are.” 

He turns his head and presses a kiss to your temple. He purrs and slowly releases you. He stands straight and backs up, once more aiming the camera at you. You feel like you might shatter into pieces. 

“We’re gonna grab some coffee. There’s a cafe around here. You’ll remember it. She did a live back in March. Got the vanilla chai, didn’t you, sweetie? I been waiting this long to get back and try it with her,” he commentates, oblivious to the people who glance in his direction. He keeps his arm extended. “Go on, Aika’s getting antsy.” 

You look down at the dog and she looks up at you. You spin and continue down the pavement. You should scream and shout and tell the world that this man is crazy. Yet it doesn’t matter. There’s probably a single viewer, if any. You realise now, he was probably your only fan. The others you’ll chalk up to bots or other weirdos. 

A trickle of ice flows through your chest. He knows where the cafe is. How long has he been here? How long has he been watching, not just on the phone? You don’t know why you keep asking. It doesn’t change a thing. 

You approach the short iron fence that marks off the patio of the cafe. You slow and Sy stands at your side, showing the tables and patrons to the camera. He rubs between your shoulder blades. 

“So how ya wanna do it? You wanna wait with Aika or you wanna run in?” He asks. 

You gulp. There is not better option. It’s all just the same. 

“I’ll get the coffee,” you offer and untangle the leash from around your wrist. “What do you want?” 

“Hm, good question,” he says, “why don’t ya surprise me. You know I got a sweet tooth.” 

“Right.” 

He takes the leash and you turn, stiffly marching through the gate and up to the door. You enter and as you’re shut in, you clutch the sides of your neck and blow out through your lips. No, you don’t know he has a sweet tooth. You don’t know him. As much as he scares you to death, he’s starting to make you really angry. It’s just how he talks as if you actually know who he is! He’s a stranger. A creep! 

You stand in line and only remember to step up for your turn as someone taps your shoulder. You mumble an apology and step up. You hadn’t even checked the menu. You look at the specials board and try to wet your dry tongue. 

“Um, white mocha,” you order in a croak, “and a uh, a lavender latte. Thanks.” 

The barista offers to add on items from the bakery. You decline and pay, already spending enough on the overpriced coffee. You shuffle along to await your order and mull your options. None. You have none. 

When your number is called, you grab your drinks and quickly spin around. You follow another customer to the door and he holds it open for you. He smiles as you step through and you thank him. 

“Not at all,” he steps out after you. “You got your hands full.” 

“It’s really nice of you,” you say as you walk just ahead of him, turning your head to glance over your shoulder. 

“Pretty girl like you. How could I not,” he says as you reach the gate, “have a good day, miss.” 

“Uh,” you’re surprised by the compliment, “you too, sir.” 

You give an awkward purse of your lips as you stand in the open gate. You look around and find Sy watching you. You go to him and hold up the drinks. 

“Um, I got the white mocha... not sure if you like that.” 

“Ooh, white mocha, sounds delicious, just like you,” he purrs, “and what did you get?” 

He takes the cup, Aika’s leash around two thick fingers. You stand dumbly, staring at the phone he keeps pointed in your face. 

“The lavender latte,” you answer flatly. 

“Well, the lady and I are gonna have our coffee date,” he says to the camera as he flips it around, “walk the pup and all that. Hope you all have a good day. Right, sweetie?” 

He once more puts you on the stream. Your lip trembles, “sure, yeah. Have a good day everyone.” 

You hold a shaky smile and he taps the screen several times with his thumb. He slides the phone into his short’s pocket and tastes his mocha. He waves you down the sidewalk and Aika takes the lead. He’s quiet as he slurps from the plastic lid. 

“That boy,” he speaks at last, “said you were pretty.” 

You blanch and turn the cup in your hand. The heat seeps through the sleeve and adds to the sheen across your skin, “er, I guess. I don’t know.” 

“Who was he?” Sy asks harshly. 

You flinch and peek up at him. He’s not happy. His entire demeanour has shifted. 

“I don’t know. A stranger. He just held the door,” you shrug, “guess he was being nice.” 

“Being nice? Shouldn’t be talking to strangers,” he reproaches. 

You nearly choke. Yeah, you shouldn’t. He taught you that well. 

“You are a pretty girl,” he says, “so I’m just lookin’ out for you. Some men...” 

You keep your eyes ahead as you fight to hold your composure. You drink from the cup, tasting the floral foam, and swallow. You force the breath from your chest and steady your nerves. 

“Sorry, I... won’t do it again.” 

He hums and reaches to grab your hand. His large one swallows yours. You don’t pull away, even as you desperately want to . He walks along with you, swing his arm slightly. 

“Isn’t this nice, sweetie?” He purrs, “you and me and Aika. Like a little family.” 

You grit your teeth and your aching cheeks fall. You can’t smile any long. You try to hide your face as you hover your mouth over the cup, “yeah,” you wisp out, “it’s nice.” 

💜

When you get back to the apartment, you’re exhausted yet adrenaline has you wide awake. Sy lets Aika off her leash and feeds her as you toss your empty coffee cup. You linger around the bin nervously, uncertain what to do next. You’re trapped again within these walls that once spoke of your freedom. 

Sy groans and stretches his neck. He runs his hands over his shaved head and combs his fingers through his thick beard. You step away from garbage before he notices you hiding. 

“Hot out, I’m beat,” he yawns, “what about you, sweetie?” 

“Yeah, uh, kinda,” you hug yourself and sway, “but um, not too bad.” 

“Ugh, one thing I was happy about was gettin’ outta the heat,” he pulls on his shirt and lifts it over his head. The fabric is darkened around the chest and arms with his sweat. More of it glistens in his body hair as he strips away the tee.  

You chew your lip and go to turn the fan on, turning it to oscillate. You sense him in the edge of your vision. He hangs the shirt across the back of a dining room chair then comes back to the living room. You stay close to the wall. 

“Er, Sy,” your heart jumps as your doubt clogs your throat. 

“Mhmm,” he flops onto the couch and leans back. He’s shameless and shirtless. His muscles flex along his arms and chest. He’s huge.  

“Do you think I can have my phone? I wanted to check my messages,” you push your palms together and twist your hands. 

“Don’t got none,” he says, “forget about that. Let’s disconnect. You and me, sweetie, let’s enjoy a quiet night in.” 

You want your phone but you know better than to push him. You’ve seen what happens when you do. You peer over at the dent in the wall. 

“Sure,” you go to him and sit on the couch, keeping a foot between you. “Do you wanna watch something?” 

You reach for the remote and he stops you. He snatches your hand back and wraps his arm around you, pulling you to lean into the couch with him. He crowds you as his scent suffocates you. It smells like sweat and generic deodorant. 

“We don’t need TV, sweetie, let’s just enjoy each other,” he reaches across you and rubs your upper arm. 

“Um,” you nearly choke, “it’s almost dinner time--” 

“It’s early,” his voice is rocky, “sweetie, it’s alright. Just relax. It’s finally just us.” 

“Sy, I... I should get some work done,” you sniff. 

“You should take it easy. You work too hard,” his hand brushes along your shoulder and to your neck. He drags his knuckles up your throat, “you’re gorgeous, you know that? This colour,” he slips his hand back down and touches the top of the tank, “looks so good on you.” 

“Thanks, I, er,” you squeeze your thigh and gulp. You can’t help the tremor that rolls through you, “Sy, please,” you reach up and grab his hand, “I should--” 

“It’s okay to be nervous. I am too, sweetie,” he rasps as he leans in, “but I can’t wait any longer.” 

He frees his hand from yours and cradles your face. He dips his head and you press your hand to his chest, helpless to stop him as he smothers your mouth with his. You let out a muffled gasp as he crushes his lips to yours, his tongue poking around eagerly. His hand crawls around the back of your head as he traps you against the couch. 

Your fingers curl against the muscle of his chest and he groans. He pulls you against him, falling back with you until he’s flat on the cushions. He brings you over him, and arm hooked around you as his other hand stays on your head. His tongue invades your mouth as you struggle to breathe past his hunger. Your brain screams at you to bite him, to smack, to do anything, but you’re paralysed with futility. 

[klausysworld]

Cg klaus x little babyspace reader where she is like 1 and pretty non verbal and Klaus is Busy so he get a babysitter bc his siblings are busy too but she get abused by the sitter and is now scared of something she loved like her crib and after that elijah babysit her and when he wants to put her in her crib she start crying and sobbing out something like "n-n-n-no-no 'Ib" and holds for her dear life on him. After he put her in klaus bed and Klaus was back again he told him about it.

How would he and his siblings react to it 💖

(Abuse mention, please don’t read if you may find this triggering and know you are not alone)

Too Perfect To Be Sorry

Y/n had never been able to keep her she regression a secret. She couldn’t help when she slipped into it and she never knew how young she could get. More often than not she was unable to do anything for herself, sometimes barely able to sit up or lift her bed so there was no chance of pretending it didn’t happen. If she felt safe, she’d slip. If she was scared, she’d slip. If she was upset, she’d slip. Almost every emotion was a trigger.

Thankfully for her, the Mikaelsons had been around for centuries and had first hand discovered most things, age regression being something they already knew of and had been apart of within a relationship.

Klaus in particular took interest in the dynamic. He enjoyed having full control over someone, and their willingness for it was what made it so much better. Knowing that someone felt so safe in his hold that they would let him care for them completely. It was a level of trust that he hadn’t been able to find anywhere else.

The hybrid had been with multiple littles over time, but often found that he moved around too much to actually keep them happy so began to pull away and succumb to your standard one-night stands instead.

However when he got to New Orleans, the place he had always loved most, he found that he wanted to stay again. Additionally, his siblings were all with him and he was in a joint rulership with Marcel, his son-like figure and favourite of hundreds and thousands of vampires he’d turned.

So when he came across a girl who was very clearly slipping into her little mindset, he was keen to sweep her away from any eyes and take her somewhere safe. Well…his home so somewhat safe depending on the day.

Y/n was barely conscious for the encounter and came out of her little space hours later.

She woke up from her nap to find that she was curled up on a man’s chest, in a bed she did not know, in clothes that weren’t hers but with a Disney film on that she definitely did know.

She looked around slowly, frightened as she carefully peeled herself off of the man. His eyes were closed and chest moving with ear deep breath so she knew he was asleep. She crawled to the edge of the bed and dropped down only to land on a pile of pillows making her smile and pull herself up onto her feet which were covered by the footsie pyjamas she was in. She could feel the confusion creep through her as she felt the babygrow, it was soft like a teddy and covered every inch of her body except her hands and face.

A gentle stirr sounded from Klaus making her startle and scurry toward the door, her steps making near to no sound against the soft carpet. Despite her lack of noise, as soon as she opened the door, arms were lifting her up. Without hesitation Y/n let out an ear piercing scream and her legs began to swing, her hands shoving at his forearms desperately.

Klaus’s eyes went wide and he quickly got her back to his bed, putting her down and reaching for the pacifier he had gotten. “Easy love, come here” he beckoned, holding out the object like one would hold a treat to tempt a dog. But Y/n wasn’t an animal and didn’t take his bait but instead scrambled with all her energy to get away from the stranger, resulting in a very serious game of hide and seek tag.

Klaus didn’t want to use his vampire abilities and terrify the girl and so chased after her at a more acceptable pace. Eventually she ran tied and he caught her in his hold but instead of harming her like she feared, his fingers attacked her with tickles. Her body lurched and curled as she giggled and squirmed against his hands.

Finally, when she began to scream that she would pee herself if he didn’t stoppit, he gave in and put an end to his torture. Once she calmed down and rest her head against the ground, she glanced up at him. Klaus was already looking back at her, ready for her to try and escape him again but she didn’t.

Instead she just stared and curled up though her body was much less tense now and she didn’t seem so stressed nor afraid. He smiled gently and rubbed her arm soothingly.

He stayed on the floor with her for a while, just petting her while she took him in. Only when the sound of a door slamming did he pick her back up but she didn’t bother struggling. He brought her back to bed and sat her down. “Stay here for me little one, I won’t be a minute” he whispered with a kiss to her temple.

Y/n watched as he left and was left with her thoughts once again.

Confusion was the most obvious feeling inside her but she couldn’t deny the comfort she felt when his hands stroked her soothingly and his scent filled her nose. And so she waited for him to come back.

When he did he was a little grumpy so when he sat back down with a sigh, she hesitantly crawled back over to him. He smiled at the gesture and pulled her into his lap, his arm wrapping around her body and his chin resting on top her head.

“Such a sweet girl, even when you’re not in little space” he murmured and she smiled shyly.

“I’m sorry” she whispered but he shook his head

“You’re too perfect to be sorry” he stated and she giggled. “I’m very serious little one, you mustn’t ever apologise for being so lovely. You’re a pretty little baby, you know that?” He muttered, encouraging a nod out of her. “That’s right my love” he smiled.

Y/n let herself relax against him and she took comfort in his hold.

And from that day, she spent more and more time at his house. Whether it was because she kept coming back or because Klaus never wanted her to leave was unclear.

Either way it was why Klaus ended up needing a baby sitter sometimes.

After finding that she was little almost always, which of course he adored, however when something overly important was happening that involved both himself and his siblings, he couldn’t risk leaving her completely alone in the abattoir.

To begin with the woman who came to look after her seemed nice. She was polite to the Mikaelsons and smiley. Apparently she only did that for the money.

As soon as they were all out, she was taking the piss. She’d raid their cupboards and snoop around. Y/n was left to care for herself while the ‘sitter’ did just that. She lounged around and made a mess only blame it on Y/n when Klaus came home. Klaus would just sigh and pick his girl up, her features would show distress so he would tell her he didn’t mind the mess and kiss her better. The sitter took advantage of this.

She could do whatever she wanted and just blame Y/n. Klaus wouldn’t ever hurt the little girl so it didn’t matter and Y/n wouldn’t dare tell the truth, not after she was threatened.

“You think he’s going to believe a freak like you?” She spat, giving Y/n a dirty look “you fucking dare tell him a thing and I’ll make sure that entire family hates you”

“They wouldn’t-“

“Not even if you were violent? Say you bit me? Or what if you weren’t pretty hm? What if I shred your hair and burn your face? You think that Klaus will want to look at that?” She laughed and Y/n’s eyes welled with tears.

The baby sitter would tell Y/n every time that she didn’t deserve someone like Klaus, that men like him didn’t really want girls like her and that the real reason he hired a sitter was so that he could go fuck real women and get away from her clingy self.

It made Y/n pull away from Klaus. She would hide in her crib that he deigned and pretend she was too little to sleep in bed with him. Often she would actually slip into her little space when she was in her crib, she would snuggle her teddies and eventually drift off.

But she wasn’t ever relaxed enough to go as young as she truly needed to be. Not when she was anxious that Klaus didn’t like when she behaved like that: “incompetent and pathetic” the sitter described it so Y/n tried to not go any younger than a toddler as of late. And when the sitter was actually there was even worse. She tried so hard to stay in big space but sometimes the stress and discomfort caused from the woman would cause Y/n to accidentally fall into her little mind.

That was when everything got worse.

The babysitter would treat her like an animal, installing more fear which only made her cling onto her little side to try and block out what was happening. But again this made things worsen. It was a viscous cycle.

The sitter had dragged Y/n by the wrist, ankle, hair or whatever else to get her out the way.

On the occasions the mikaelsons had the sitter stay over night, she would throw a party and force Y/n into her crib and put something big and heavy over the top so she couldn’t get out. Like a caged animal.

Y/n would scream and cry for hours, the sitters friends would laugh and poke fun at her until eventually she passed out from exhaustion.

But again she wouldn’t tell Klaus, she didn’t know how and she didn’t want to bother him. She knew of the sorts of things he dealt with and she didn’t think this would compare to life and death situations.

However that didn’t mean she wouldn’t try and ask for someone else to watch her if they could. Which was why Elijah was looking after her today.

He was more than happy to watch her, especially when Klaus spoke to him and was concerned with her recent behaviour.

“She’s been acting odd, she won’t sleep in her crib but she doesn’t want to touch me, she won’t drink from her bottle but can’t hold her glass stable enough. She won’t snuggle her teddies but won’t let go of a pillow instead and she won’t…she won’t call me Daddy. In fact she tries not to address me at all.” He whispered to his brother, his expression showing clear upset and confusion.

“I’ll look after her Niklaus, perhaps I can see if she’ll say anything to me? She might’ve done something bad and think you’ll be upset?” He questioned but Klaus shook his head

“She knows i wouldn’t ever hurt her, punish her maybe but it doesn’t hurt her. Somethings wrong, she won’t talk to me…she might trust you” he muttered, his voice broken at the thought of his girl trusting his brother more than him but he gave in and asked for help.

Elijah nodded and they spoke a small while more before Klaus went off out and Elijah went up to find Y/n.

She was dressed in some of Rebekah’s clothes though it was clear that she wasn’t comfortable in them and she kept her eyes on the floor even when he addressed her.

With a small sigh he came over to where she sat on the bed and squatted down infront of her. “Y/n?” He repeated softly, locking his eyes on hers “are you alright my dear?” He asked and she nodded silently. He gently cupped her hand in his and caressed the back of it “how about you put something a little comfier on today? We aren’t going anywhere this morning, it’s better to be warm and snuggly” he offered, going over to the drawers and pulling out some joggers and a pretty top that read ‘I 🩷 my Daddy’.

Y/n quietly did as she was asked and let him help her get changed, he frowned when he saw her wearing such an uncomfortable bra. She rarely wore a proper bra, it irritated her when she got little and they all knew it from times she would be out in public and would whimper to Klaus about it. It was why he bought her so many soft, wireless ones. But now she was subjecting herself to it when she was in her own home?

Elijah gently moved his hand round to unclip it, Y/n knew Elijah was safe and wouldn’t dare ever look or touch her in any way that she found uncomfortable so she didn’t react much though she couldn’t deny the little moan of relief when the item was removed and her top was slid on.

Shyly she look up at him, seeing him fold the other clothes and put them aside before turning back to her and lifting her up. He pulled her against his chest, ignoring how she tried to get down. He took her downstairs to the kitchen and got out her baby bottle, filling it with chocolate milk and sliding it towards her but she only stared at it.

He frowned and came back over to her. “Y/n, darling, what’s wrong?” He whispered, concern painting his face. “You aren’t yourself little one” he murmured, in response she only glances at him, her eyes showing an element of hurt.

Eventually he managed to get her to suck on the bottle and after many hours, he finally got her to slip fully. Which was how he ended up with her babbling in his arms as he made his way upstairs and to her and Klaus’s bedroom. “Such a good girl” he smiled as he went over to her once adored crib.

Just as he laid her down in it, a switch seemed to flick. Her eyes suddenly went wide and her breaking shattered. A cry left her lips and she clambered back up his body hysterically. Elijah let out a sound of surprise as she clung to him, shaking her head and sobbing. She begged him not to put her there, her poor body shook and she began to cry for her Daddy.

Elijah held her tight, quickly calling Klaus who hurried home but despite Y/n wanting him, she still wouldn’t go to him. Her mind told her she was embarrassing for him.

Klaus grew more distressed as he tried to make her look at him, to have her attention and provide her comfort.

It took far too long for her to get into his lap, still sobbing her apologies repeatedly.

“Baby girl” he whispered, his tone so gentle it broke her heart “you’re too perfect to be sorry” he uttered, a reminder of the first time she was with him. He rocked her soothingly, his hands all over as he tried his very best.

Slowly, her tears came to a stop and she settled against him. He kept her wrapped in his hold for a while before coaxing some words out of her.

With much effort he was able to figure out it was something to do with the baby sitter, he promised that nobody bar himself and his family would ever look after her again.

When she fell asleep in his arms, her face stained from crying and her clothes ruined from how much she had sweat from the panic, he cleaned her up and got her changed back into the same snuggly onesie as the first night she spent with him.

He didn’t put her down but instead carried her around, even when he went to his siblings and told them that he needed them to get the sister over immediately.

When the disgrace of a person arrived, Elijah quickly took Y/n into his hold while Rebekah also sat with them. She stroked Y/n’s hair comfortingly and listened closely to what was happening. Klaus and Kol had the woman by her throat compelling her her for answers on what she’d done to Klaus’s girl. After being forced to admit every horrible thing that she had done to Y/n, Klaus and Kol did their worse. Borderline maimed her.

Klaus then destroyed every last thing that the monster had used to destroy and ruin Y/n’s feelings of security and happiness.

He had to get rid of all her clothes, he refurbished his whole room and got her all new little things in an attempt to make her feel better.

Y/n appreciated the gesture but couldn’t just slip back into her ways. It took a lot of time from all the Mikaelsons. They cared for her as well as they possibly could and did everything possible to help her feel comfortable.

Slowly she felt safe enough to slip.

Klaus was ecstatic the first few times she went all the way. He wouldn’t ever let her go, he’d have her in diapers so that he could take care of everything and have her without an ounce or worry. He’d bounce her, rock her, feed and nurture her.

Klaus frequently reassured her that he loved her being little and that he never wanted to feel uncomfortable again. He just wanted to love her and keep her safe forever.

[marvelous-slut]

Call Back - Chibs Telford x Reader

YALL!! I can’t lie, I am a hoe for this troupe if you can’t tell from my other works. Like the close friends daughter? Idk it makes me feral. I swear to god I don’t have daddy issues, like I have the best dad ever so idk why I’m like this but here’s this work that has been stuck in my drafts for weeks.

MINORS DNI. 18+ ONLY! Age gaps & smut.

You watched the club members make their way into the club house as you puffed on the joint that rested between your fingers. Chucky had kept you company while you waited for them to come back from a run. As much as you wanted to slap the shit out of Chibs when he come through the door, you held back. Knowing you couldn’t risk Clay finding out that one of his most trusted members had been with his daughter right under his nose. Even if through all the rage you felt right now toward him, you’d never want him to get hurt.

While the MC was on a run, you’d realized you’d forgot many of your things at Chibs house the night before they left. He told you were the extra key was through text for you to get them back, a part of you wished you’d never went in. You found your things and as you did, the phone rung. Before you shut the door to leave, you heard a voice mail being recorded and decided to stay and listen. Sure, maybe it was a little bit of an invasion of privacy but you wanted to know who else needed to talk to him besides the club and you.

“It’s Fi. Fillip, I want our family back. Jimmy is gone, hasn’t been here for months. Haven’t heard from him either. There’s no sense in us stayin’ apart now. Let me know when you get this, please.” Family? What family? The only family you’d known Chibs to have was the MC. You cursed yourself for not listening to Clay and Gemma more when they’d talk about the members and their lives. You’d think the feelings you’d had for Chibs through the years of being around the club would have made your ears perk up when they’d chat about him. Maybe it was a detail you’d heard and didn’t care about, as you’d never met or seen him with a woman, thinking it was an old fling. Chucky filled you in once you brought it up, telling you how Chibs had been married before with a daughter. He didn’t know much more besides that.

“You gotta go home, no need for you to be here.” Clay says, throwing his bag on the pool table. “And put that shit out, this place reeks of pot cause of you.” He walks past you, just like you were a stranger in the house. You didn’t know what happened on the run, but it had to be something tough. Clay typically treated you and Gemma both like dirt on his shoes when a run went bad or an issue come up with the club. It didn’t make the coldness he came off with sting any less. The hurt was plastered on your face, you put your joint out in the ash tray and ran out of the club house in tears. Pushing past Chibs as you did. Jax looks at him, confused as to what happened.

“Think it’s somethin’ with Clay. I’ll go make sure she’s okay.” He says, Jax nods his head and follows the rest into the house. Jax cared about you, sometimes both of you thought he cared more about you than Clay but right now he had to fill his role as VP.

“Love,” He begins to say. You turn around, laughing as you did. Between the new found information of him being married and your fathers cold demeanor toward you, something snapped inside of you.

“Shut up!” You yell at him, he’s confused and shocked as you’d never talked to anyone this way before in your whole life. Even if you had Gemma for a step mom you weren’t quick to yell out in anger or use your fists to resolve issues like her, even sometimes being like a dog that keeps getting beat down makes anyone eventually explode. “Don’t you have a fucking wife to get back to?” You ask, Chibs eyes widen. He’s speechless and you take the opportunity to get in your car and drive off from the club. Wanting to be anywhere but here.

_____

You laid on your bed looking up at the ceiling, unable to think of anything other than Chibs. Even your father snapping at you today didn’t hurt like this did. That you were used to, being lied to by someone you trusted deeply wasn’t. It was 12:42AM, not a word from Chibs or Clay. You were shocked that Gemma hadn’t been crawling up your ass to find out where you were. Typically you’d go over to visit before heading to your house but today you just wanted to be alone. Trying to sleep hadn’t worked out in your favor and you’re forced to lay in bed with only your many racing thoughts. Before anything else can cross your mind, you hear a knock at the door. You grab your pistol, not knowing who would be here at this time of night. When you look through the peep hole, you’re somewhat shocked at who you see.

“What do you want?” You ask, opening the door. A part of you was excited that he was here so the two of you could talk, but the anger in you didn’t want to see him at all.

“I want to talk.” He says, pushing past you into the house. You couldn’t lie, it was kind of hot that he asserted himself like this. It was always sexy when he did it, one of the many reasons you liked him. He sits down on the couch and you sit on the other end, looking at him. He was looking at you, almost like he was waiting on an explanation. You chuckled, slapping your hands on your thighs as you did.

“What?” You ask sharply, he leans back into the cushions, placing his hands on the top of his head.

“I listened to the voicemail that you heard, and deleted it as soon as it was done playin’. I married Fi when I was in Ireland and younger, a man named Jimmy O got me kicked out of the IRA and married Fi. Raised my daughter, Kerrianne.” This was a lot to process right now, your head still swimmy from the tears youd shed through the day. “Also, did this to ma face.” He says, pointing at the scars that ran over his cheeks. You sit, listening to everything he’s saying. It sounds like some kind of TV show, how the hell do you get kicked out of a country unless you’re a terrorist?

“Listen lass, I should have told you about Fi and my Kerrianne, but it just wasn’t something I thought about bringin’ up to ya. You make me forget all the bad shit in my life, when I’m with ya I don’t have to think about any of it.” He moves over to sit beside you, brushing a piece of hair out of your face. “Fi hasn’t had a hold on me since the day you decided to spill ya drink on me.” You smiled at him and laughed. It was your first night back in Charming after moving away for college, Chibs only faintly remembered you when you were younger but you’d made an impression on him your first night back. Being drunk out of your mind, staggering everywhere and eventually bumping into him and your drink flying all over him. You sigh deeply, looking away from him as you attempt to hold anymore tears from coming out. He turns your head back to him, resting his forehead onto yours.

“I know it’s wrong and I know Clay would put a bullet in ma head if he knew about this, but I love you lass. I can’t help it.” He says, at this moment you don’t need to hear anything else he has to say. You lay your lips onto his and he returns the favor. You feel his rough and calloused hands run up your leg, shivering as the coldness from his rings hits your skin. You let out a soft whimper as you’d missed this familiar feeling of his hands on your body.

“How I’ve missed that noise.” He breathes out, breaking the kiss. You stand up, adjusting your clothes. You don’t know why you did, sooner rather than later they’d be scattered across the floor anyways. You reach a hand out and he accepts, following you to your bedroom. Once the two of you are in, he sheds his kutte and lays it on the desk that sits in your corner. The familiar scent of whiskey and cigarette smoke takes over your senses as he places his lips to your neck, kissing gently and carefully not to leave a mark on your precious skin. Before you knew it, your shorts and underwear were scattered on the ground along with his clothes. You lay down on the bed as he hovers over you, typically you got things rolling by landing on your knees for him but he felt like he needed to make this about you. The beads that hang from his neck are hanging in-front of your face, a sight you’ll never get tired of seeing. You feel his hand sliding to your dripping cunt, he slides in two fingers and you arch your back in pleasure. He would have started off with one, but he knew you’d immediately tell him to add another just like you always did.

“So beautiful.” He says as he’s kissing the inside of your thighs. “So wet.” The kisses, how his fingers curl inside of you, hitting your spot just right it was all enough to send your head spinning. His fingers are buried deep in you, but he’s moving them at such an agonizing pace. Knowing you were going insane and silently begging him to spend up his movements. He leans down to you, placing his lips onto yours. This time it’s messy, almost sloppy but you don’t mind.

“Always takin’ my fingers so well, can you still take this cock just as good love?” It had been a few weeks since the two of you had sex due to him being on the run and you’d longed for this moment since the day he left with the MC for Tacoma. You nodded your head yes, knowing if you tried to speak you’d just embarrass yourself by stammering around. He slides himself into you, your hands tighten around his arms as you feel yourself stretch around him. Once he’s buried himself into you and sees the pleasure across your face, he starts to thrust into you slowly trying to set his pace.

“Fuck.” You manage to moan out, he moves the hair from your face so he can take in your beauty. To the both of you, the sex you had was like a drug. Once never being enough. The first time it happened, he insisted it would be the last as well. The minute he slid himself inside of you, seeing your face and feeling you clench around him he knew he’d made himself a liar. Every-time was sensual, even when it was a quick fuck it was always meaningful.

“You always take me so well, love. Almost like this pussy was made just for me.” He lets out as the grip on your hips tightens. You feel your stomach begin to tighten, your face burning and you know you’re there. He knows it too, pumping into you steadily but harsher. “Be a good girl and let go all over me aye?” The words sent you over the edge, bucking your hips against him to intensify the experience. It sends him over the edge, watching you like you can’t get enough of him and he releases into you. Not worrying wether there was a condom on or not. He pulls himself out, grabbing a towel to help you clean up and get himself situated. You wrap yourself up in a silk robe as you watch him dress, knowing the worst moment of him leaving was coming.

“You know you can stay right? Dad shouldn’t be down this way anytime soon.” You tried your best, hoping he’d give in. He sighs, tightening his belt. He walks over to you, kissing your forehead.

“I’ll see you tomorrow love. I have some things to take care of tonight.”

Chibs rides home, it’s almost 3AM and he’s feeling it as his eye lids become heavier and heavier. He silently thanks God when he makes it inside that he didn’t crash his bike into a semi on his way here from the fatigue. He sits on the couch, staring at the phone. He listens to the voicemail from Fiona once more, thinking of her and the life they had. How they had a shot of getting that back. His mind then went to you, he loved you and he couldn’t shake the feeling. He hated to lie to you, but at this moment he didn’t know which path to go down. Telling you the voicemail and feelings for his wife were gone was better than saying “I don’t really know what to do”. He couldn’t bare the thought of hurting you as he’d already seen how that went earlier in the day at the club house.

He didn’t fear anyone, but he knew it would be tricky with you due to Clay. He knew he’d never be able to boast or call you his old lady. Things would be a secret till the day Clay died, and Chibs didn’t like keeping those. He picked up the phone and dialed the familiar number, praying he’d get the mailbox before he had anymore time to think.

“Hey Fi. It’s Fillip. Just wanted to see if you still wanted to talk.”

[leviathanleva]

Cujo

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Supersoldier!FemReader

Description: A monster in human skin, a weapon disguised as a person, no thoughts, no emotion, as per design. He despises you and everything you stand for. He’s tried to kick you out of his squad and failed, he’s made it his mission to break you no matter the cost.

It comes as a surprise when he asks you to lie and say you love him.

[4.5k words]

[Angst, Blood and Injury, Graphic Depiction of Injury]

Chapter 4 "Brandy Bonbons"

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The abocath in your arm is pumping a translucent fluid in your veins, the medics refused to tell him what it was because he had no clearance. They also refused to put you in a cast in case you woke up and decided to fix your broken bones and displaced limbs yourself.

No matter how much Simon had insisted and yelled, they’d still refused, because apparently someone above him was pulling strings and had them all on a leash. Of course there was a big fish involved, your life was on the line after all and even through your hypothetically final moments they still refused to leave you in peace.

So he was stuck just helplessly lounging next to your bed in the cramped room they’d set you up in, nursing his bruised ribs and glass cuts while you lay there, silent and scarily motionless.

It’s been a week already and he hasn’t moved an inch despite John’s insistence that he at least get some proper sleep. He’d been glued to you since they’d extracted you from the remains of that car, all bent joints and speckles of blood. He’d been right next to you, rushing in with the doctors who tried to wheel you away but couldn’t get him to budge no matter how much they’d plead and tried to apply force. He refused to leave, not after what you’d done for him.

Your life for his.

You’d abandoned your primary mission because of a mistake he’d done, thrown your well-being to the side just to preserve the rotten heart he nurtured. You’d jumped from the roof of a twenty-story building for him, no protection, no plan, no fear, just for him, because it at least gave you a small chance at saving him. You’d selflessly thrown him to safety, thinking of him before yourself as always, and had taken the full fall all by yourself.

He should have been there with you, you should have just perished together and been freed of the limitations of your lives.

Now you were bed-bound, your body was shattered, you couldn’t breathe without a special apparatus they’d wheeled in to try and preserve you. You were blue and black all over, pummeled to a pulp. Simon wanted to touch you, caress your cheek tenderly and whisper in your ear that it’ll all be okay, that he won’t leave until you’re better, but he was scared that even your skull was fractured.

He was scared to breathe in your direction.

Even though you were their best soldier, they still treated you like a dog, didn’t even add any pain suppressants to whatever concoction they were feeding your bloodstream. Whether it was because they didn’t know exactly how to help you or because they knew you’d eventually rise again and couldn’t be bothered was uncertain.

But what about the pain you endured? Did nobody care?

He cared…

All of this because of him. He couldn’t stand the thought.

No matter the lack of expression on your face in the presence of any injury, he knew you still hurt. He’d do anything in his power to make it better, would take you away if he could, somewhere far away where the clutches of your creators couldn’t reach you, somewhere where you could be free to do whatever you wanted.

And if you still wanted him around even after he’d set you free, he’d happily oblige.

But he couldn’t. He had no power here, he was as useless as they came.

All Simon could do was keep you company and renew the cluster of orchids placed on the nightstand by the bed. You’d said they smelled the best, he hadn’t forgotten.

It was a gut-wrenching existence, but one he was willing to soldier for you. He was ready to do anything for you. Just like you were for him. The only difference was that his devotion came from the heart while yours was embedded into you during training and was strictly professional.

But then again, you’d gone against everything you stood for a week ago, just for him. You’d blatantly disobeyed orders in favor of his life. This gave him hope that maybe somewhere deep down, there was still a small flicker of humanity left in you.

It gave him hope that there was still a chance for you… and for him.

He’d never realized just how human he was before he’d met you. He’d thought himself a stone-cold military weapon. Then you’d come along and everything he’d believed in had been wiped off the board.

The more anomalous you were the more human he became so he could bring you back to the world you’d left behind with your augmentations.

He sighs and shifts uncomfortably in the foldable chair that’s too small to hold his large frame properly.

The sun is finally rising, he sees it peeking beyond the window – lazy and unbothered. Another day of sitting around waiting is ahead of him.

Simon rubs the sleep from his eyes and stretches the stiffness out of his joints before standing, and even though you can’t hear him, he still mumbles that he’ll be right back.

He’s at the door, holding onto the frame absentmindedly because he has to duck to walk through it.

One last longing glance in your direction before he heads off to grab a cup of coffee and sober up. The staff probably have it prepared already, it’s become a ritual, every day at sunrise he was at the coffee machine waiting his turn for a cup full of a bitter, scalding dose.

But then your eyes shift beneath your lids and he’s frozen in place for half a second before he’s at your bedside. His hands are looming over you, desperate to glide to your shoulders and shake you awake, but he doesn’t dare. Too much is whirring in his head that he wants to say, but he settles for something simple.

“Hound?”

The first signs of awakening begin. You groan, throat most likely parched, then shift slightly, and your breath hitches and he can’t fathom how much discomfort you’re experiencing at that moment.

You barely manage to roll your head on the pillow to face him and when you see it’s him the haze in your eyes starts to dissipate.

“Lieutenant?” The word leaves you as a weak rasp and he reaches for the water bottle sitting on top of your nightstand.

The distinct deaf sound of your bones popping back in their correct order makes him sick, he sees your bent wrist snap back into place, your legs move under the thin white blanket, creaking softly until all damage is repaired completely. It’s amazing as it is cursed to see something so unnatural – regeneration polished to perfection. You roll your neck, cracking it thoroughly before taking the needle out of your vein and the oxygen mask off your face. Supposedly, the black eye, bruises, and cuts were superficial injuries you’d deal with later.

They’d never set up a heart monitor for you because why would they? The odds of you dying were unfathomably low.

“Easy now, luv.” He coos and leans forward, wrapping an arm around your upper back to help you sit up when you begin to fidget restlessly. He has the lid of the water bottle pressed to your lips next and you’re chugging it down so quickly he’s worried it won’t be enough to sate you. “Want more? I can – ”

“ – They’ll move me.” You say between hungry breaths, interrupt him sharply, and look up at him as your cheek comes to rest against his shoulder.

His jaw tightens under the mask and the hand that’s gently kneading your back halts.

“What?” It’s stupid to ask, he already knows the reason, but a part of him refuses to believe it. The same part that dotes over you and doesn’t want to let you go. So he asks anyway in the hopes that the words about to come out of your mouth are different from his expectations.

“They’ll move me from your Squad. I didn’t manage to secure the target. Failure is not an option for me.” You deliver the devastating information as if you’re reading numbers off a chart.

“They won’t. Won’t let ‘em.” He twists the now empty plastic bottle and tosses it at the bin with visible malice.

He feels the invisible shrug that rolls off your shoulders. There isn’t a spec of anxiety on your face, you’re at peace with the outcome, having accepted your fate already.

And he’s thrust right back to the start where you don’t care who leads you as long as they do their job right. His absence wouldn’t matter in the slightest to you. It forces the breath out of his lungs, how uncaring you are, how you can just brush him off after risking your life for him.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“The fuck do you mean it doesn’t ma’er.” Ghost bristles up at your lack of retaliation. The arm that’s been keeping you up retracts and crosses with its twin in front of his chest. “Course it fuckin’ ma’ers.”

“You’re alive.” You say as if that fact would make it all better, that it was a fair trade to lose your position due to his well-being. “I’ll take my consequences.”

He leaves your side, paces back and forth next to your bed and you, the ever-watchful dog, follow him unblinking as he contemplates silently.

The heating system buzzes softly, accompanying his thoughts with pleasant white noise which he doesn’t succumb to. It’s not enough to quell his anger.

His heart bleeds from your words, it shows in his slouched shoulders and jittery steps.

You can’t just say that his life is worth yours, your job, everything. You can’t do this to him and then expect him not to drown on thoughts of you before he goes to sleep every night.

“What the fuck were you thinking, Cadet?” He growls finally, voice like gravel as he turns to look at you over his shoulder.

“Please…please say you did it because you wanted to…”

But you don’t. Because of course, you don’t. I can never be that easy.

“I was told to protect my comrades in combat. That’s what I did.” You answer matter-of-factly, cool and collected even after nearly losing your life. It was irksome, he’d hoped that after such a close call with death, something would have changed in you, but he was as usual wrong.

“Ye? And what about your other orders?” He barks back viciously, pushing desperately for something, anything that would steer away from your typical answers. “Unless the target is within direct eyesight.”

“If you’re worried about being punished, don’t.” You try to sooth him in your own heartless way, but your direction as to his malady couldn’t be more wrong. “They’ll do nothing to you.”

It’s not his hide he’s worried about, but yours. He could care less about what your stuck-up superiors had in store for him. They could try anything, but he was an old dog in this industry and he wasn’t going down without a fight.

“Tha’s not…” He scoffs, shakes his head in disbelief and clenches his fists to maintain his boiling outburst. “I can’t bloody stand you sometimes.”

Why was it so hard for you to admit that you’d done something based on emotion? Why were you so ashamed of harboring a fondness for him?

“Your feelings toward me mean nothing.” It’s your turn to berate him now and you spare no expense, malevolently beating down on him and reminding him how little he truly mattered to you. Trying to shatter that ignorant cocoon he had encased himself in because you were bored of being his scapegoat. “I need a guide, whether you or someone else it makes no difference to me. I need a leader, not man who cannot separate work from personal interest and misunderstands indifference for acceptance to his advances” He’s staring you down, trying to seal your lips with a searing glare, but it’s ineffective and you spit out one last batch of venom before going quiet. “You've failed me”

Fuck the coffee, he needed a smoke.

He pats his pocket to check if his pack is still there before ripping his eyes off you and turning for the door.

“Where are you going?”

Simon doesn’t answer, just briefly stops before disappearing behind the door. It shuts with a bang behind him, he takes a deep breath of hospital air as soon as it does, lets his lids flutter for a second to compose himself. He gets a few questionable glances, apparently, your argument hadn’t gone unheard, but he didn’t mind. Nobody would approach him, they had no right sticking their noses in his business as much as he didn’t in theirs.

He trudges through the hallway, passing by various medical staff bringing in patients or rushing to deliver tubs of medication. The coat of white paint over everything overwhelms his eyes, makes them sting and dampen and he squints to blink back the moisture. The world feels like it’s speeding around him, passing away while he’s stuck in one place.

A group of suits step by him on the way out, all of them spotless in their attire, suitcases in hand, hair combed to perfection, and slicked back to free their unfriendly faces. They stick out like a sore thumb on the base, even Ghost’s superiors couldn’t match their confident stride – all business. His gaze hardens at the sight of them and he looks back once they’ve walked past him.

They enter the room he’d just left, your room. His pulse speeds up at the inclination and he has half a mind to turn back and come to you for aid because he suspects who the men are.

Your bosses, maybe your makers even. People that didn’t belong on his base and had no business talking to his Cadet without his supervision.

But who was he to intervene when you so desperately wanted to be rid of him?

He sighs and listens to his own boots squeak against the spotless floor as they carry him forward instead of backward. Shadows rush past him, faceless entities he cares little for, a blurred cacophony of voices, some calm, some throwing out rushed orders. The fluorescent lights above his head bade his splotchy shadow, his only companion in this sickening place.

Simon fucking hates hospitals, always has.

The chill of the morning welcomes him when he finally pushes through the entrance doors and comes face to face with the sunrise.

He shoulders the wall and pulls out his cigarettes before tugging down his mask enough to free his mouth and securing one between his lips.

He lights it, takes a long drag and puffs out a breath.

“Fucking ‘ell, Hound…”

He felt like an idiot for having hung around your bed for a week worrying over your condition, thinking that once you woke up you’d cling to him for help, that your leap of faith had meaning behind it besides orders.

But the way you’d spoken had crushed those dreams completely and now he was left questioning everything.

Maybe he was harassing you. Pushing you to your limits and trying to drag you into something you truly didn’t want. Somewhere between wanting to prove that you’re still human, he’d lost himself. His mission was no longer to find out if you still had a heart, but that that heart beat for him as much as his did for you. He’s not sure when his obsession with you evolved into infatuation, when his orders for you to smile became orders to kiss him.

It was unnerving to think back on his actions if your words rang true and you felt nothing but loyalty to him as your Lieutenant. He was abusing his power over you, he was a fucking menace…

Another drag of his cigarette, a longer one to calm the thundering thoughts that are beating down on him for being just another disgusting man taking advantage of you.

He digs the heel of his shoe in the dirt, kicks out a pebble and stares down at it absentmindedly, he’s not really there, he’s busy giving himself a mental whooping for his actions.

The realization sinks in slowly, like a disease it takes over his every fiber until he’s nothing but self-loathing.

How had you even managed to stand him for so long without an outburst?

Because that’s how you were taught, take everything being thrown at you without a care. Nothing matters but your missions and performance.

He sees Johnny and Kyle pass by in the distance, they notice him and give him a nod, the good lads, too soft of heart to try and pry him out of the infirmary unlike their Captain. He nods back and continues smoking, decides then that maybe he’ll get his coffee from the cafeteria and have breakfast with his Squad. Quit sulking and praying for your reciprocation and finally leave you in peace. You were fine, after all, it had taken you a whole of five minutes to recover after you’d awoken.

You didn’t need him, you never had. If anything, he was a hindrance to you, all of them were, but you ignored that fact and acted as if most missions didn’t fail because of their incompetence compared to yours.

Yeah…

He’d had enough of chasing fairy tales, it was time to come back to the real world.

Ghost feels the wall behind him vibrate with a sudden thud and pushes off it suddenly. His first thought is an earthquake, but the ground beneath him wasn’t shifting or shaking, it was just the wall. The medical bay had shuddered.

It dawns on him and he’s rushing back inside in an instant, his cigarette discarded on the dirt and forgotten. He speedwalks through the hallway, past the shaken-up staff, his large strides take him directly to your door where he’s prepared to barge in. But he sees the damage done through the small round glass and stops dead in his tracks.

A spider web of cracks covers one of the walls, the side of your fist at the center. And your superiors don’t seem to be completely unphased. They stand opposite of your bed in a cluster, a few feet away, briefcases to their chests, papers scattered on the floor. His jaw clenches at the sight of them – contracts for other organizations, they’d given you ample choice now that you’d proven your usefulness.

“Fucking bastards…”

There’s nothing on your face to indicate what had transpired while he was away.

Though your actions speak loud enough to make his hands shake.

You’d refused whatever they’d said. You’d rebelled.

You’d chosen him.

And it wasn’t like these sorts of people to just accept an uprise, but maybe coming from you it was too much to handle at present. Maybe they hadn’t been prepared for the minuscule chance that you were slowly starting to develop a mind of your own. He was almost proud if not for the bubbling malice at the sight of them.

A handful of muffled words are exchanged and you feign a lunge off the bed to which Ghost sees one visibly shudder. Before long they’re out the door, disappearing as mysteriously as they’d appeared. He moves to the side not to bump into them, wants to take a shower after being within such close proximity to them.

You’re pulling your clothes on when he enters, having discarded the lanky hospital robe you’d been adorned with while unconscious. The uniform hasn’t looked worse on you yet, everything hangs, you’ve melted in the week you’ve been asleep. He took a mental note to drag you to the cafeteria after you were done gathering your things.

Your visage is calm, but your eyes are razor-sharp when you lift them to greet him.

“What the bloody hell ‘appened?”

“Classified.” You shoot back almost automatically and straighten up once you’ve tied your boots in place. “I won’t be getting moved though.”

You stand to stretch, roll your wrists and then your ankles and it’s unbelievable that you’re ready for another mission already, but you are. Aside from the lost weight, you were as good as new.

Sometimes he grew jealous of your recovery time and resilience. Here he was with bruised ribs he’d have to take care of for weeks while you’d been near your last breath a few days ago and now you were talking around with nothing ailing you at all.

“So why the long face then?” Ghost watches you shuffle through your discarded duffle bag, pulling out an old rations bar before sinking your teeth into it like a famished mutt.

You don’t answer. Instead, you wolf down the rest of your snack and sling the bag over your shoulder before trying to walk past him. Casual and unbothered, typical for you, but something lingered beneath the surface, he could smell it and he wasn’t about to lose his chance.

He steps in front of you and crosses his arms, puffing out his chest to reestablish his post above yours.

“You’re in my way.”

When he doesn’t move, you sigh and try to squeeze past him but he purposefully takes up the entirety of the doorframe, trapping you in the room with him.

Damn him and his broad frame.

“Cadet.” He begins evenly and cocks his head to the side in mock confusion and it makes you nearly lash out at him for it. “Wha’s wrong?”

After everything he had the audacity to ask you what was wrong as if he didn’t already know. The countless secretive conversations he kept in store in his mind for as long as the memories would stay, to the forced kisses to the lingering glances you knew he wanted returned.

You try to escape, avoid this conversation altogether, because once you started there would be no stopping you and a tiny part of you that you didn’t acknowledge didn’t want to hurt his feelings. You refused to cause him pain be it physical or emotional, you’d rather cut your own tongue off before ever going against your precious Lieutenant.

Because that’s what good dogs did…

But he was a stubborn man, even in the face of pain he wouldn’t stand down.

If only you could understand why he pushed your buttons so fervently…

If only he could understand that this was not the way to your heart because there was no way…

You try again, one last attempt at sparing you both from the hefty conversation to come, but he’s persistent in his search for the truth and you finally snap.

“You’re what’s wrong, LT.” you hiss sharply, breaking the silence filled by the soft buzz of the heating system. You shake off the thoughts screaming in your ears to spare him, be gentle with him because he was gentle with you always. But you can’t anymore. Because all you want is to love him the same way he loves you but you just fucking can’t. “You keep poking and probing me trying to get something out of me that isn’t there!” Your voice falters, the frustration dissolves as quickly as it had erupted and now there is nothing but melancholy. He thought he was dreaming, but no, your eyes truly were wet with restrained tears. “What do you want from me?”

This…

Him…

He was the first and only reason for you to regret your augmentations. Because he just had to come into your calm life and turn everything upside down with his gentle, calloused hands and soothing words. Because he had to take you on a date and bother you constantly with meaningless talks, asking for your opinion, and caring for you. He had to go refill your tray with food when you couldn’t be bothered, he had to push you behind him on missions and be your shield even though that was literally your job.

He had to keep adding fresh orchids to your med bay nightstand that had lingered in your nostrils for the whole duration of your stay. All of this because you’d simply said they smelled nice once.

He was so kind, he was your angel, your reason to work as hard as you did to succeed in every mission and solidify your spot in his team. This way you could protect him, take bullets for him so he could keep being by your side. This was your way of showing that you weren’t indifferent to him, but he just had to push for something you could not give.

And as much as you wanted to give him whatever he wanted you couldn’t because what the hell did it mean to love him?

“Love me.” He says softly, whispers it out, and lets it hang in the already unbearable air that’s choking both of you mercilessly. “I want you t’ love me.”

“I do love you!” You exclaim, desperate to prove that his love wasn’t the only love that existed and even if you couldn’t reciprocate, you could do everything else to salve over the wounds your rejection caused him.

“Not like a dog.” He laughs a bitter laugh that makes your knees weak with pain and your face burn in irritation. “Like a woman.” He swallows thickly and finally lifts his chocolate brown eyes to meet with your crystal white ones. “A wife.”

You bite into your bottom lip so hard you feel the metallic twinge of blood on your tongue, having sucked it inside your mouth instead of letting out the alien sob that was trying to push its way up your throat.

“I can’t…” You whimper out, regretful, mourning what it could have been if you were both just two normal people. “You know I can’t, Simon. I want to… I just can’t.”

But the bliss of civilian life was unreachable, neither of you could escape the jaws of military life, not while you were both still breathing.

You wish so desperately for a new start, another life, a second life where you could just be happy together, where you had boring jobs, and shared meals in the cozy home you’d managed to save up for and purchase together. You wanted to have a family together, but even that had been taken away from you.

You couldn’t have kids.

Not anymore…

Not after the augmentations had burned your organs to a crisp.

Maybe someday you’d be happy…

But not in this life, this one was already spoilt for the both of you and all you could do was push forward until blissful death found you one day and then you would pray that the next chance you got, you’d find Ghost again no matter how long it took you and you’d finally have your happily ever after.

He stares at you so sincerely, there’s so much vulnerability there you have the urge to collapse into his arms and stay there forever sobbing out your woes.

“Then lie to me.” He says and you squeeze your eyes shut and cover your ears to block out the rest.

<<< Chapter 3

Chapter 5 >>>

Masterlist

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about my zombie au but make it modern.

Where he doesn't get it from zombies, rather then failed testing so now his cancer is literally coming to the front of his skin and "rotting off" it was supposed to be an experimental cancer treatment but now he's got almost every symtom of a zombie minus the feralness.

His muscles are regenerating so quickly from the rotting that he has an obvious limp, he struggles to hold or carry heavy objects, his jaw isn't working properly, he needs help to swallow, he STINKS even MORE but Logan is nose blind to it by now. Overall, it's the same Wade just way, way more disabled, of course Logan becomes his caregiver.

But Wade still needs to eat a lot of meat, infact he's borderline carnivore now. The only "Feralness" he has now is like Eddie when he first was bonded with Venom, and he kept eating dead meat, only to eat a lobster raw. He doesn't exactly NEED live food, Raw food definitely makes him more "Full". Hank is still trying to figure out why, but he thinks it has something to do with the enzymes breaking down the virus. Logan's seen him "go feral" and eat a rat, tho. Which.. yeah, that was weird, but it was before Logan figured out that Wade needed meat to survive.

One of the ideas I have is Logan holding his wrist and taking sentiant "zombie" wade through the store only for him to wonder off from the cart and Logan sighing, having to gently drag him away from the ground beef packages like "No sweetheart.. I know you're hungry. I'll feed ya when we get home." Only for Wade to groan in protest but follow obediently.

Because of this constant changing, his mind has become very priority based, experiencing less complex emotions and understanding less concepts too. For example, He sees Logan. Wade likes Logan. Logan is holding puppy. Wade loves puppy!! Wade is happy because he saw Logan and Puppy. Simple.

Someone gives him a look at he's dead ass staring at the rotisserie chicken and Logan just pulls the "Sorry, he's not allowed out of the house much" and sighs, letting him hold chicken. "Wait, Wade. Wait." He tells him, like a dog waiting for its treat.

He tries to eat his chicken in the store before they pay for it, but Logan dosn't let him. Wait, why was Logan taking his chicken? Was he bad? He said he could have the chicken? Why can't he eat it now? Why does he have to wait? Wade doesn't understand that devouring an entire chicken in the store is socially unacceptable.

Have you ever seen a zombie happily (and food reactivly) hold their chicken staring at it all the way to the car like a kid with a toy? The moment they're in the van, Logan lets him start to eat it, helping him swallow at times and taking the small bones out. "Careful Darlin'. Not too fast. You don't wanna throw up again, do ya? Good. Slow. There ya go."

Logan reaches over to take some bone away knowing Wade will try to eat it and Wade holds the container close, glaring and growling at him.

"Oi, don't you growl at me! You and I both know you can't eat this!"

Despite being much simpler, though, he still has much pain and often tells Logan how much he hurts, sometimes even coming to him smiling, just informing him of the devastating feeling in his legs and arms, joints mainly.

"Logan. This hurts." He points to his knee and then just.. limps away.

"Oh.. wait what? What hurts, bub? Wade? Mmh....Well I'm proud of you for telling me anyway.." as he already left the room to go back to what ever he was doing.

Fortunately for Wades sake, This "zombie" disese isn't contagious unless the other person has a lot of cancer too, so Wade can still sit on Logans lap, giggling and kissing him to death.

It's just so innocent. Him kicking his feet and holding his neck, Kissing his lips over and over with such a happy grin.

"Oh yeah?.. another??.. yeah? Oh, man. So many kisses today. Someones happy to see me- wait what did you do? Did you eat a rat again?"

"...."

"Waaadde those rats have diseases!"

"Mmh..."

Some days, when Logan comes to check on Wade from his long naps, he freaks out because there, laying in front of him, is Wade with his eyes rolled back, jaw open and not breathing. The stench of death is always around Wade, but it is far more intense. Logan would shake him. Scold him. Beg him to wake up. Plead with Hope to give him back. He was terrified for the day that she kept him from his arms without a word. When and if Wade finally COULD die and stay dead, Logan wanted told- scratch that.

Since his body is on over drive with trying to regenerate rapidly, he's always starving and often is tired. If he's not eating, he's sleeping.

He NEEDED told. He needed to say goodbye. Forever. If she took him without letting him bid his lover bye, he didn't know what he would do, and he knew it would hurt. He knew he'd hurt others in a blind fit of rage, But Wade deserved to be told goodbye. Esspecially if he was still in this stage of brain deteriation where he wouldn't understand until it was too late.

When Wade does finally gasp to life and is pulled from his deep sleep, He hugs Logan tightly, telling him he was okay and was just sleeping. He sleeps so deeply now that his heartbeat is practically non-existent, and sometimes it does.

People say it's a miracle that Logan stayed with him. How 'brave' he is for 'putting up' with Wade's more advanced special needs, how gross wade is now, and 'Who would wanna have sex with that?', but Logan didn't understand. It's now that Logan is realizing just how much people said to Wade in private because they used to tell him all these things, just in secret. But now they were telling Logan to his face.

It enrages him. Why would they ever say that? He loves Wade. So why in gods name would he ever leave him? He said till (permanent) death do them part. And he means it. Wade was already disabled when they met. Why would it matter if he was more disabled now?

[earthgenics]

How to choose the right calming dog chews for your furry friend

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[shwaesar]

Share those thoughts concerning the human ape similarities please!

I COULD DELVE SO DEEP INTO THIS OK SO

Obvs it helps that human history and evolution are something that I've always been very interested in anyways. Done a lot of research, seen a lot of documentaries, and there's a lot of specific details that I think would translate BRILLIANTLY into a dialogue between the reader and their ape pookie.

For example; Lucy. The skeleton of one of our most distant ancestors, which some believe to be the separation point between other apes and homosapians (humans). The fact that humanity took the time to salvage her remains, protect them for other humans to see them, and recreated what they think she'd look like? That would hit our bois DEEP - because it not only gives evidence to the clams that we're apes, but shows that it's a part of our species' history that we value and care about, don't think less of ourselves for. I can see this point resonating with Caesar especially, considering his complicated history with identity and figuring out who (and what) he is.

AND THERES SO MANY THINGS WE STILL HAVE FROM BACK THEN! The urge to pet animals? Leftover grooming instinct from when we were monke. Our feet are literally deformed hands that could once grab onto tree branches. Apes in general all have almost identical arm and shoulder structures, humans included, making us one of the few creatures with free rotation around the shoulder joint. All our internal organs are organised in the same way. Human babies have been seen to use communicative primate gestures, and adult humans have a 50% average accuracy in understanding those gestures when performed by other apes. This side of it would likely interest Noa the most - he's inquisitive by nature and would be fascinated by the similarities and differences, the ways humans changed to become what we now are.

As you can probably imagine, Koba would despise the idea that you're the same in any way whatsoever. But there's a certain allegory I think would make it click for him, and would also cause him to look at you - look at humans as a whole - a little differently. The comparison can easily be mate between our evolution and that of dogs from wolves. He knows what a dog is and knows what a wolf is, and he is able to somewhat recognise the relation. If you were to explain your claims by likening apes to wolves; strong, capable, to be treated with respect and caution, and humans to dogs; domesticated, needy, generally requiring a more 'capable' companion, he'd definitely be more receptive to the notion. He still won't like it, mind you, it honestly would make a part of him feel sick. But it's still step in the right direction in terms of better understanding.

[idyllicwillowtree]

Smitten Kittens

Genre: Eddie Munson x fem!reader; fluff

Summary: Eddie helps out a very special cat who turns out to be yours. 

Word count: 3.3K

Warnings: light drug-use, swearing, illusions to bad parental relationships/toxic parents, reader is called ‘Ms. Y/L/N’ at one point, Eddie-centric, Eddie being a crazy cat lady

Author’s note: Loosely based off of me and my cat <3 ; pictures found on pinterest

Main Masterlist

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4:37. Every morning Eddie’s body wakes him up at 4:37 and no matter how long he lays in bed or how late he stays up he can’t go back to sleep. He could have his eyes closed, unmoving for hours and still his mind would not allow him anymore rest. 

That’s where his little friend Mary-Jane comes in handy.

His uncle, Wayne, is usually still at work at this time so Eddie doesn’t bother being gentle as he swung the front door open, a joint dangling from his chapped lips and a couple cans of tuna in his hand. 

Stepping out of his muggy trailer, he took a deep breath of fresh morning air as goosebumps emerged on his skin. In preparation for the sun to rise, the night sky became a dark blue mixing with the yellow street lamps, light enough for Eddie not to use a flashlight. He plopped himself down on his front steps, his sock covered feet avoiding the dewy grass below by setting them on the last wooden step.

He lit up his joint, taking a deep inhale and enjoying a short moment alone before gently tapping the tuna can with his lighter.

“Purrrrow?”

“Jesus Christ!” Eddie clutched his chest before turning towards the noise, “Oh, there you are Ozzy.”

When Eddie started using weed to help him sleep in the middle of the night he slowly made some new furry friends. Once he set a precedent that the stray cats could come to him for a snack, he became the unofficial cat-guy of the trailer park. 

Something about taking care of the mangy little beasts of the neighborhood made him feel important. Knowing there were four starving cats out there that turned to him for comfort filled him with a sense of purpose. Something he doesn’t always get with the people in his life.

As he starts filling the large dog dish he leaves outside with the fishy treat, the rest of his cat gang arrives, greeting him with quiet chirps, excited purring, and vertical tails. 

Ozzy was the leader, a short-haired tabby that was pure muscle. He usually sported an intimidating glare as he watched over the other cats, keeping them protected and in line. His right-pawed man was a skinny gray cat Eddie named Dio. He was the only one who let Eddie hold him, never clawing to get away, but still preferring to keep all four paws on land. Then there was Dungeon and Dragon, two orange cats attached at the hip and always getting into trouble. Dungeon was very talkative while Dragon was the most affectionate. 

Eddie continued smoking his joint, blowing the smoke in the opposite direction of the eating cats. He listened as their loud smacking and happy purrs echoed in the dish.

Ozzy abruptly stopped eating, eyes zeroed in on something under Eddie’s trailer porch to his right. The cat’s back immediately puffed, fur standing up on its own. He let out an aggressive hiss followed by a yowl that sent a chill down Eddie’s spine. The rest of the cats perked up in curiosity. 

“Please don’t be a raccoon,” Eddie mumbled to himself as he leaned over to get a better look.

Suddenly, a tentative black paw emerged from the shadow of the porch. The most beautiful cat Eddie had ever seen revealed herself, delicately sniffing at the fishy morning air.

Ozzy was not about to share his food with this new cat, making it known through his loud yowling that Dio soon joined in on. Dungeon and Dragon’s ears were pulled back, hissing at the new arrival.

Eddie watched as the cat timidly backed up under the porch again, not wanting any trouble but still eyeing their leftover tuna. 

“Alright guys, that’s enough,” Eddie began gently shooing the clowder of cats away. They all snapped out of it and scampered off to do whatever it is they usually do when they’re done with their breakfast. Not before Ozzy could send one last hiss in the direction of the black cat.

 “Yeah, yeah, we get it. You’re a big tough guy. Go on.” 

Pleased with himself, Ozzy trotted away in the direction of his pack. Once they were gone, Eddie finally got a good look at black cat who, once again, was making her way out of hiding.

In comparison to the rest of the cats, this one stuck out like a sore thumb. While the others were matted flea-covered strays, this cat had perfectly groomed long hair that looked particularly soft and fluffy. Her neon green eyes were clear and bright and her ears remained pointed and intact. 

After she made sure all the other cats were gone, she immediately perked up and began approaching Eddie with her fluffy tail pointing towards the sky.

“Meow?”

“Hi there,” Eddie said gently. “You’re new.”

Eddie slowly lifted his hand, pointer finger stretched out towards the feline. She sniffed at it attentively before dragging her cheek across his short nails repeatedly. Eddie got the hint and started scratching behind her ears and down her spine, watching happily as she leaned into his touch before getting distracted by the leftover fish. 

She was even softer than he imagined.

Eddie knew she didn’t belong out here, she’s too healthy and social to be an outdoor cat or a stray. His heart ached at the thought of someone out there looking for this sweet and loving companion. He knew he needed to help her find her home.

“In the meantime, I bestow upon you the title of ‘Sabbath’. Pretty metal, huh?”

“Purrrrow?”

“Exactly.”

Eddie cautiously scooped her up, pleasantly surprised by how easy this was for her. She immediately settled in his grip and turned to wrap her paws around his neck, nuzzling affectionately into his long hair. 

Eddie took a moment with her, enjoying the feeling of her vibrating purrs against his chest, before heading back inside and to bed. The purring heals his heart a bit, it’s nice having someone around who offers their love to him without needing anything in return.

As soon as Eddie sets her down on the comforter, she spins around a couple times before passing out, Eddie falling asleep not long after.

 _______________________________________________

Eddie was sitting in class hunched over his notebook, planning out the next Dungeons and Dragons campaign for Hellfire. He was so focused he didn’t even realize the rest of the class packed up their things and left already.

“Mr. Munson, class is dismissed,” the teacher pointed out tiredly.

“You sure you want me to go, Mr. K?” Eddie said slyly, knowing Mr. Kowcheski hates the nickname, “we could talk about our feelings? Who have you been crushing on these days?”

Mr. Kowcheski deadpanned at the delinquent for a long moment before looking past him.

“You too, Ms. Y/L/N. Class is over.”

Eddie turned around, noticing you were still there for the first time. You sat slumped in your chair with a slack expression and wet dull eyes as you stared at the linoleum floor. You jumped slightly and blushed from the attention, eyes jumping around the room.

“S-sorry Mr. Kowcheski,” your voice wavered as you shakily gathered your things and made a break for it, Eddie following close behind.

He’s not sure what possessed him to approach you, but he knew he needed to make sure you were okay. 

 You never gave Eddie a reason to hate you, always sending him shy smiles and letting him borrow a pencil whenever he asked. You were a breath of fresh air in a school full of stale and rotten posers who made his life a living nightmare.

Everytime Eddie’s eyes wandered to you in class, you were always paying close attention and absorbing the lecture through taking notes and asking questions. He always admired that about you. That’s why it was so strange seeing you so zoned out that you didn’t even realize the bell had already rung.

“Hey, you okay?” Eddie said, catching up to you in the hallway.

“Huh? O-oh hi Eddie. What’s up?”

Now that Eddie was closer, he could see your red-trimmed eyes and dark bags as you avoided his gaze. Your usual up-beat tone of voice was now scratchy and tired. Eddie felt sadness and worry flip through his stomach at the sight.

“Nothing, I just wanted to see if you were okay,” he tilted his head, trying to catch your eye, “You don’t seem like your normal self.”

Eddie could tell by the way your eyes widened and your breathing stuttered that he caught you off guard. Once you gather your bearings, you offer him a shy smile that comes as quickly as it goes.

“Thanks, Eddie. I’m fine,” you looked down at your shoes, shaking your head solemnly. “It’s…it’s stupid. But thanks anyway,” you said, voice breaking along with Eddie’s heart.

You walked away before he could press any further. 

_______________________________________________

Now that school was out, Eddie could finally head home and brainstorm ideas on how to return Sabbath to her rightful home.

 Eddie sauntered through the trailer door, shopping bags full of canned cat food in tow, as he shook the rain from his wet hair like a dog. He turned to Wayne, lounging in his usual spot on the armchair, only this time he wasn’t alone.

“Boy, if you don’t get this damn cat off of me…”

Sabbath looked perfectly happy, stretched out on Wayne’s jean covered legs. Blissfully unaware that he wanted her off of him. Or maybe she just didn’t care. She sent Eddie, what could only be described as a smile as he walked over and delicately scooped her up. She protested a little with a long closed mouth “mew”, then settled into his arms, hugging him around the neck once more.

Wayne looked up at Eddie, ocean eyes flooded with disapproval.

“I know, I know. It’s the last time I swear,” Eddie defended.

His Uncle stayed silent.

“I couldn’t just leave the poor thing, she wouldn’t have survived. She’s a lover, not a fighter!”

Wayne's face stayed the same, only lifting the corner of his brow at him.

“I’m looking for her owner, I swear. She definitely belongs to someone.”

At that, Wayne lifted himself from his armchair with an “old man grunt”, as Eddie liked to call it. His Uncle gave him a loving pat on the shoulder as he walked past him, heading to the bathroom to get ready for his night shift at the plant. 

Eddie spent the rest of the evening making posters out of cheap printer paper, writing on them with a giant black magic marker. 

“Found Cat

Black, long hair, green eyes”

Eddie added his phone number and called it good. It wasn’t much to go off of, but he figured there couldn’t be too many missing black cats out there in Hawkins.

Eddie flicked the pen cap towards Sabbath, watching as she swatted it off the edge of the table and chased it around. Soon she riled herself up so much that the zoomies overcame her, running from one end of the trailer all the way into Eddie’s room and back again. He found himself completely entertained just by watching this cat do cat things that a couple hours went by without him even noticing.

Eddie was hoping the rain would subside but this was Indiana, the weather never did what you wanted it to do. He wanted to get the word out sooner, but it’ll have to wait until tomorrow. Not that he was complaining. Fondness blossomed in his chest as Sabbath trotted over to him and rubbed the top of her soft head against his chin. Then she settled on his lap for the rest of the evening.

_______________________________________________

6:14. This morning, Eddie managed to sleep in. Although he would’ve much rather slept longer, he was pleasantly surprised to have a couple extra hours. 

That was until he realized why he had woken up. Sabbath was meowing continuously, barely stopping to breathe. Jumping back and forth from the pillow Eddie was resting his head on, to the top of his dresser that was set in front of his bedroom window. When she leaped up, sliding a bit on the smooth surface, she scratched at the window overlooking the front yard. Eddie sluggishly pulled himself up and out of bed to see what Sabbath was getting so worked up about.

You were riding your bike in the soft glow of the morning, tires crutching in protest as you slowly pedaled. You kept your eyes and head moving, scanning the area diligently. In one hand you gripped the handle bars, in the other you held a small bag of cat treats that you were shaking every few seconds. Hope lightens your eyes at the sound of Dungeon’s meows, but it dissolves instantly when he’s not the one you’re looking for.

Eddie watched as Sabbath propped herself up on her back legs and began scratching at the single paned glass window like she could dig her way through. When she looked back at Eddie, begging him to understand her pleas, he patted her head softly and moved towards the front door.

By the time Eddie stepped outside you had stopped your bike and were silently sobbing in the middle of the road. Your back was partially turned to him but he could tell by the quivering of your shoulders and the slouch of your neck that you were overwhelmed with emotion.

“Hey Y/N!” Eddie greeted, louder than he intended.

Eddie cringed slightly as you jumped three feet into the air, dropping the open bag of treats in the process. The clowder of strays devours the fallen snacks in seconds before running off into the woods. Not before Ozzy could send Eddie a look that portrayed his disappointment in him for not feeding them earlier in the morning.

“Ah, shit. Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, no it’s alright,” you sniffed hard and vigorously wiped your face before turning to Eddie, playing it off like you weren’t just weeping.

As Eddie got closer he noticed the plastic cat carrier zip tied to the back of your bike and the pile of clothes in the basket attached to your handlebars. You watched him scan your bike, his eyes sparkling with what you misinterpreted for judgment. 

“Sorry, I’m just looking for…for my cat,” you sent him a tightlipped smile and sniffed back your tears. 

“She must be some cat, huh?” Eddie couldn’t stand to leave you hanging for any longer, watching your face crumple as you nodded. He smiled softly, “she wouldn’t happen to be a fluffy black cat, would she?”

Your head snapped up, eyes wide and hopeful. The last remnants of your tears sliding down your cheeks as you blinked owlishly at him. Your mouth was agape in an attempt to respond, but all you could manage was a frantic nod.

Eddie walked backwards slowly and smiled playfully, dimples on full display as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. He swiftly spun around before jogging up his front steps to open his front door. You watched him curiously before you noticed what emerged from his trailer.

“KITTY!” a sob ripped through your throat as you lurched forward, bike clattering to the ground in the process.

“Kitty?” Eddie mumbled to himself incredulously.

He watched as the relief you were feeling had a physical effect on you. Your knees wobbled, feet crossing over each other as you ran forward. It would’ve taken you down had you not been so eager to reach the feline. Whimpers cracked through your chest when you finally met in the middle, ‘Kitty’ being just as excited to get to you. You expertly scooped her up and let her snuggle into your hair as you clung to each other. The way you held one another reminded Eddie of how a caring mother would hold her child.

Watching this reunion was something special. Seeing these two beings who were unconditionally in love, coming together after days apart sent a warmth through Eddie’s heart. He felt a bit selfish for being proud of himself for making this happen, but quickly shook it off. That cat definitely wouldn’t have survived if it weren’t for him and you would still be heartbroken.

“I was s-so w-worried about you, Kitty,” you blubbered as you pressed kiss after kiss on her soft little head. Your happy tear-filled eyes blinked up at Eddie, “t-thank you so much, Eddie. You have no idea what this means to me, thank you-” before you could back out you gently held Eddie’s face and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. 

Eddie’s face tingled with heat as a blush crept up his neck. He was just standing there, dumbfounded, not expecting the affection but not hating it either. He moved to touch his burning cheek to savor the feeling, but it made you cringe seeing the moisture you left behind.

“S-sorry,” you said with a wet laugh.

“Don’t apologize. I should be thanking you,” Eddie said, still in a lovesick daze.

“What? You’re the one that saved my cat!”

“Yeah, but you’re the one that kissed me!” Eddie would like to say that his flirting was smooth and intentional, but really he was just flabbergasted that someone as sweet and pretty as you would give him any sort of attention. 

You barked out a surprised laugh as Kitty moved to nuzzle her face into the other side of your neck. You wiped at the tears and snot still caked on your face, suddenly feeling embarrassed by your emotional outburst.

“Sorry,” you apologized again, “I feel kinda stupid for crying so hard over a cat.”

“You keep saying that,” Eddie said with a smile and a soft head shake that made his curly hair float around his shoulders.

You sniffed, “saying what?”

“That your emotions are stupid. Like it’s some offense to be sad and worried about the greatest cat in the world.”

Eddie’s words surprised you. You scanned his face, looking for anything that would suggest he’s teasing or making fun of you. Luckily, it wasn’t there.

“You…you think she’s the great cat in the world?”

“Yeah! What’s not to like? She’s affectionate, entertaining, and really fucking cute. I’d probably lose my mind if I was the one to lose her. I mean, she’s a cat that hugs. What’s better than that?”

You gasped dramatically, turning to look at the cat still in your arms, “you hugged him? What a little traitor! She usually only hugs me,” you giggled.

Eddie was shocked, yet flattered. “She must be a good judge of character,” he said with a smug grin.

“Yeah, that explains why she hates my parents.”

Eddie erupted in laughter, catching you off guard. You didn’t mean to make a joke but it was kind of funny. Your chortles mixing together and echoing throughout the quiet trailer park. 

Your cat pulled back from your neck so she could look back at Eddie and send him a grateful “meow” and a slow blink. Eddie reached out to stroke behind her ears lovingly. It made you tense for a second, scared she’d take a swipe at the metal-head but instead she leaned into his touch.

“You like that, don’t you Sabbath?” he cooed, the pitch to his voice raising an octave.

“You named her Sabbath?”

“Oh, uhh y-yeah,” Eddie said, scratching the back of his neck bashfully. “Yeah, it was just a placeholder name until I found her owner.”

You nodded slowly as a knowing smile slithered across your lips, “Black Sabbath. Very clever.”

Eddie could have proposed to you right then and there. Instead, he would have to settle for dinner and a movie.

_______________________________________________

Thanks for reading!

main masterlist

[firebeez]

I had a dog, Athena, who was obsessed with these rubber pigs that make noise se when you squeeze them. She'd carefully carry them around, gently boop them to make the noise, and cuddle with them. Athena has some health issues that meant she often had days where she felt really bad, and she'd always gather up her multiple pigs to cuddle for comfort. She loved those pigs.

When we got another dog, Burt, she diligently taught him to be gentle with the pigs. To not wrestle with them or risk breaking them. They would certainly play with them together, running around playing keep away. But it was always very careful compared to their other toys. Beyond that however, Burt never bothered much with the pigs.

Athena unfortunately passed away rather young, a consequence of her health issues. And after she passed, we got another dog, Briar. Briar never met Athena, never learned anything from her directly. Nevertheless, Briar seems to have taken up Athena's love for those pigs. I'm sure Burt taught her to be gentle with them, that they are special. But Briar also goes to the pigs for comfort. She treats them like babies, the way Athena used to. She carefully arranges them in a nest and snuggles them when she's feeling bad.

And it's just so magical to me. These two dogs who never met, connected through their joint comfort found in these silly little pig toys.

[mychlapci]

Day 0 for reactive k9 Prowl living with the Prime is Optimus getting Ratchet to take a look at his new “dog.” Ratchet, of course, protests that hems not a veterinarian—until he actually sees Prowl. Sedated and whining on his stomach on a medical berth, optics hazy with drugs and also visible fear. Mutilated door wings hiked as high up as he can manage to tell everyone to Stay Back. Prowl even bares his teeth as threateningly as he can manage, lips curling over his fangs.

“Oh, hell, Optimus,” Ratchet just sighs. The Prime can only nod gravely. Prowl is, at least, better behaved for medical professionals than any other people. But he’s also feral, terrified, and in pain. He manages to bite Ratchet juuuust a little, holding the medic’s wrist almost gently in between his jaws. Looking kinda stunned that he managed to catch it. Ratchet just tilts his head like “really?” and waits until Prowl releases him with an almost sheepish whine. There are some very tiny tooth-shaped dents left behind, but no real damage. Ratchet ends up having to call in a door wing specialist, but the rest of the damage and stressed systems he takes care of. And then promptly prescribes Prowl anti-anxiety medication because the poor mech is so high strung.

In the weeks to come, feeling infinitely better than he can ever remember feeling, Prowl keeps trying to figure out what the Prime wants him for. He has such a diligent, considerate new owner. Prowl needs to behave and perform well so The Prime knows he’s grateful. After a few weeks, Prowl can only figure he’s supposed to be some kind of cross between a guard dog and a companion animal—why else would anyone treat a k9 so well? Sure The Prime keeps talking to him like he’s a people, but lots of civilian pet owners do that… so perhaps this is normal.

Prowl considers himself quite spoiled these days, actually. Everything here is infinitely nicer than at his precinct, as is befitting a Prime. Definitely not because they were giving the k9s the last and least of everything, no sir. But the food here is Good and Prowl can have as much as he wants. The door to the washrack is left open for him to come and go; dogs don’t open doors if they aren’t propped for them. One time he did get trapped in the washracks when the door shut and had to wait until he heard Prime calling him to bark and whine for help. And also. Prime insists that Prowl is allowed on the furniture. This is the height of luxury. His wings don’t send shoots of fiery pain anymore, his joints don’t ache, there is food *whenever he wants it*! Prowl could literally not be more spoiled.

Optimus, however, could cry at seeing how little it takes to make Prowl happier than anyone has ever seen him. This poor mech is clearly intelligent, and he withers without enough mental stimulation. Prowl is perfectly happy to heel and accompany the Prime anywhere. But he won’t get up and walk and he does not form words no matter what Optimus tries. Clearly it’s too soon to try convincing Prowl that he isn’t a dog, but it grates at him. Still, he tries to provide Prowl with as much dignity as he can. And that includes letting him bite the shit out of Jazz, sometimes.

The day he introduced him, Jazz became Prowl’s mortal enemy number 1. Because Jazz refuses to stop calling him Prowler, invades his personal space, teases and pokes at him, and won’t stop casually touching Optimus. All of which Prowl very visibly hates. He growls at Jazz and revs his engine, and the mech just laughs in his face. Sometimes Prowl’s teeth chitter from the force of trying not to bite him. And then, one day, Optimus simply says “if he bites you, it’s your fault.”

Which Prowl correctly interprets as permission to discipline this interloper! This absolute miscreant! Harrasser of working animals and invader of Primal space!!! And so obviously he bites the shit out of Jazz for sticking his fingers in Prowl’s face. Because saying “aw, he wouldn’t do that, would ya Prowler?” in such a condescending tone of voice is obviously a challenge. Ironically, this is pivotal for Prowl starting to learn that he is, in fact, a person. Prowl’s first real word will be “NO!” in response to Prime trying to invite Jazz over. This is both hilarious and also crucial for his development, so they go out for drinks instead.

Optimus is happy that Prowl has started establishing his own preferences and boundaries, of course. But he nearly cries from joy the first time he finds Prowl curled up in a praxian donut at the foot of his berth pretending to sleep. Subtly watching for his reaction, waiting to see if he’s in trouble. Finally, progress.

Owww… Optimus is so heartbroken that all it takes to make Prowl happy is literally the minimum of decency. He’s probably not constantly in pain for the first time in his life, no longer having to wait for access the washracks, he can go and leave as he pleases, energon is left out for him and he can drink as much as he wants, no longer having to sleep hungry just because the enforcers got busy and forgot to feed the units. Optimus does not know where to go from here… Giving Prowl agency was supposed to make him feel more like a person, but he seems to be convinced he’s just getting spoiled… Of course, this means Prowl is doing his best to be good and obedient for his new master, staying quiet and bowing his head to him, kneeling at his side like a good dog, always doing as he says. Optimus doesn’t know how to explain that he doesn’t need anything in return….

ahsjsjwjs I love that Jazz helps Prowl realize he’s a mech with his own boundaries and opinions. Stupid, annoying idiot! He wants nothing more than to bite him whenever he carelessly touches his owner and Prowl. This disrespect towards his role as the Prime’s companion dog is unacceptable… Jazz and Optimus are so proud.

I love to imagine Prowl sleeping at the foot of Optimus’ bed, testing the waters, pushing the boundaries, maybe… maybe showing him that he too, can sleep in a bed, just like Optimus does.

[takami-takami]

Let Me Take Care of You.

includes— hawks x reader. minors dni. hurt/comfort.

warnings— brief unhappy childhood/life mention. keigo making you feel safe if you'd just let him :(

"Let me take care of you?"

Keigo knows what it's like to be the kind of tired that aches in the marrow of your bones. He can see it in the slump of your walk, in the drag of your feet like you're wading in water. It's the kind of exhaustion that can't form in a single night. No, this is the crumbling that results from years of battering. Years of bruising. Of a childhood suitable for wild dogs, of a mind tattered by the weathering of a life unkind.

Broken, you tell yourself.

Not to him, he thinks. Never to him.

You want to hiss at him, wrench your hand away from his as he rubs the pain away from your joints, like if he's tender enough with your skin it'll heal what's underneath. Yet, you also want to melt into him, to dive into the pool of his love like it'll keep you afloat somehow.

You don't know what you want. But it's okay. He can do enough thinking for the both of you. He can do that if you'll let him.

Keigo is born and bred for the self sacrificial, you think. It runs through his veins, evident in the way he used to return home from work at the endturn of evenings just before the sun began to rise. Nothing in his life, nothing in his body, ever belonged to him, really. It was all just fodder to be sacrificed to someone else. For the greater good, so others can rest easy.

It was only when he met you that he began to unravel this unhealthy mindset. His 4 a.m.'s of waking to the shrill screech of his alarm ringing off the walls of a cold, empty bedroom were long gone. In their stead now are hazy memories of waking to sunrays peeking through the blinds at the highest point of noon, of the pleading look in your lovesick, sleepy eyes as he gives in to your "come to bed?" for another night.

You treat his emotional wounds with the reverence and love that could stitch together aches he never noticed he had.

Why couldn't you let him be that for you?

Why couldn't you let him in?

You suppose you don't want to be a burden. You don't want him to give any more of himself than he has to, don't want him to return to those old habits of giving until he's empty. You don't want to scare him away. Keigo is more astute than you give him credit for. You don't need to utter those words for him to hear it.

His hands tremble with the weight of his empathy for you. When your lip pouts the slightest bit, when you look anywhere but his pleading eyes, he can feel the pangs of ache in his heartbeat, the buzz of tenderness that threatens to spill out and overflow.

"This," he starts, speaking with a gentleness one would use when approaching a stray animal. You suppose you are one, these days. "This helps me too, you know."

He doesn't miss the way your breath hitches in your lungs— like you're starting to believe him. His words crawl over you, making a home underneath your outer layers.

He's confessed before that you are his healthy outlet for it all, for all those urges he can't scratch himself. To protect and provide.

Caring for you isn't a sacrifice, it's home.

"Please. Let me take care of you?"

Finally, finally, you utter the word he's been longing for.

"Okay."

[13as07]

Little Mouse #1

(Orochimaru)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to Watagashi710]

Requested by: Me :)

Word Count: 4,364

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Name Calling: Mouse, Crybaby, Darling, Pet

Biting

Description of Blood and Wounds

Gentle Degrading

Orochi being a bit of a sadist and horn-dog

Medical use of a knockout drug

There's going to be a part two :)

———————————————————————

     I softly hum as my hands work through my locks, a hairbrush carefully untangling it as my fingers trail after it, shifting it to enjoy the glossiness. It's not as glossy as usual, courtesy of it being the end of the month. The first day of every month is left to 'pamper' myself. A day full of appointments to keep my skin soft, my hair glossy, and any other possible upkeep I might need to maintain the perfection that keeps the Lord of the village happy.

     Orochimaru is... a lot of things. A person’s appearance is at the top of the list, which means I need to keep my appearance in check to. He calls me his 'little mouse'. It's a fitting name. I'm kept around for his enjoyment and his enjoyment only. Kept to make him happy, to entertain him, to please him. I serve him no purpose aside from that; no better than a pet.

     A little mouse he keeps in the cage of the Sound Village. A mouse that he constantly gives checkups too like a vet. A little mouse he spikes the food for with different vitamins and other things he thinks I need. A mouse whose fur he constantly cares for and pampers with cute outfits. A little mouse he likes to bring treats home too and travels with on safe journeys. I'm nothing but a pet. Orochimaru's pet.

     Kabuto stretches, a few of his joints popping as he shifts in my bed. It's as luxurious as everything else Orochi has gifted me. Crafted from beautifully dark redding wood, different swirls and designs are carved into the bed frame. The nightly black curtains are pulled back, and tied to two of the posts so I can see the mattress and bedding. It's a bed that reminds me of something you'd see in old-time art. Or maybe one of those beds you'd imagine while reading a royal-themed love story.

     "My Lady?" Kabuto mutters, glancing up from the scroll he's been reading. I cut off the soft lullaby I'm humming, sparing him a glance before I look back in the mirror hung over my vanity. "Lord Orochimaru has returned."

     "How can you tell?" I ask, my voice soft so it doesn't echo off the stone walls.

     "I can sense his chakra. He will be here soon, I believe."

     "You believe?"

     Kabuto leaves my bed, straightening the comforter before he starts the walk toward me. The young boy stops behind me, his footsteps still echoing in the room for a moment. He takes a second, his hands hovering over me before settling on my shoulders. "I believe he will stop in to see you, but there are many other rooms down this corridor."

     I let out a short hum, running my hairbrush through my locks once more before setting it on the counter. "Thank you, Kab-Chan," I thank, reaching a hand up to rub my fingertips against his cheek.

     The young boy's face flashes, his eyes tearing away from the mirror to look away from me. "Of course, My Lady," he mutters, soaking in my soft touch for a second before he steps away from me. Kabuto's hand falls to my chair, pulling it out and offering his hand to me.

     "Thank you," I repeat, gently taking his hand to help pull myself to my feet. My robe slides against the floor as I stand, the black feather ends of the material rubbing the stone and the skin of my wrists. The material melts down my body as I move, the layers falling into place like a river. The robe is fancy, expensive, bought in excellent taste just like everything else I have to my use.

     He drops my hand, taking a wide step away from me. There's a soft knock on the door, my signal from the guards that I have a visitor. No ask for approval follows the tip-off that Orochi is my visitor. No surprise there; the only two people that visit me this late are him and Kabuto and well... the younger of the two is already present in my room.

     The doors creak as they're being tugged open, filling the room with the sound of the wood scraping against the stone floors. Kabuto falls into a bow as the doors open. My hands cling to the silk material of my robe, balling it up as I drop into a curtsy.

     "My darling Little Mouse," Orochimaru's smooth voice greets, his heavy footsteps bouncing off the walls. "How many times do I have to tell you not to bow your head to me?" He asks, snatching my hands in his, and using his grip to pull me out of my curtsy.

     "Apologies, My Lord," I mutter, tilting my head to look up at him. My hair curtains to the side, the necklace around my throat jingling. The pendant around the chain matches his earrings, a stamp of ownership coating my body.

     "Don't call me that either, Little Mouse," he coos, lifting my hands to butterfly kisses across my knuckles. "I am just your Orochi. I am not your Lord."

     "As you wish, Orochi."

     His hands shift on mine, moving to my palms to gently push on them. My fingers sprout out how he wants, Orochimaru's lips instantly dotting each fingertip with a kiss. "My beautiful Little Mouse. I missed you so much. We have so much to celebrate."

     "Your mission was successful?"

     "Yes, it was. Plans to kill Lord Third are all set in place. This time next month he shall be dead," Orochi almost cheers, his kisses growing more eager with each word.

     "Wonderful."

     "The most wonderful thing to possibly happen, aside from coming home to my obedient Mouse," he flutters, letting go of one of my hands.

     Orochimaru knots our fingers together, his other hand falling to my waist. He gently pushes on me, making me take a step to the side. He uses the step to start twirling us in wide circles, dancing us around my room in joy. My robes spin with us, the thin blood-red material whirling at our feet. My slippers click against the floor, mixing with the sound of his shoes slamming against the stone.

     He lets go of my waist, jerking our hands upward to spin me in circles. After a few go-arounds, I'm pulled backward, my arm crossed over me as Orochi's chest presses against my back. "What a joyous day, Little Mouse," he sighs, a hand on my hip, softly rocking the two of us from side to side. "I cannot wait to watch the life drain out of Hiruzen's eyes."

     "I'm happy that you're happy," I mutter, letting my head rest against his shoulder. I don't know who this Hiruzen guy is or why Orochimaru has such a vendetta against him but I don't care that much about the situation. Why should I care about a person I know nothing about? All I care about is my Lord, my owner, the man who holds the key to my cage. That's how it should be, how he wants it.

     My arm is tugged upward, the material of my robe sliding down and balling up on my elbow. Orochi's lips brush against the veins of my wrist before his fangs poke out. They slide against my skin, testing the blood-filled lines of life against the porcelain of his jaw. The teasing doesn't last long, the pointed ends of his teeth digging into my flesh.

Pain blossoms from my wrist, clawing up my arm and pumping adrenaline through my veins. I try to focus my breathing, keeping it even as Orochimaru shreds my skin. The pain forms tears in my eyes, the water sliding down my cheeks.

It's a weird comparison, the tears leaking from my eyes pinned against the blood dripping from my wound. My tears are cold and silent. My blood is warm, filling the room with the soft pattering of droplets falling to the ground. It slides down, painting the outside of my skin with the same red that coats the inside. If I didn't know any better I'd believe Orochimaru was a vampire instead of a snake.

Soon, a soft sizzling filters from his mouth, the feeling of a warm liquid filling my veins, mixing with the sensation. The feeling is nice, almost soothing as it coats my blood, making my body buzz with energy. I swear this feeling of peace, of power, is addictive. This must be why I stay, why I'm so submissive, why I don't test my Lord, because I know I'll get just an ounce of the complete peace his venom has to offer.

"Orochi?" I call like I'm supposed to. He's always told me to stop him, to scream, cry, or push him off if that feeling surfaces in his bites. I never want to, the feeling always turns my tears of pain into tears of pleasure. I love the feeling it brings me.

Orochimaru, on the other hand, doesn't like the mark it leaves after. He doesn't like the black inking on my skin. Doesn't like the shivering sweats it causes me in the aftermath. Doesn't like the chakra it gifts my body, chakra I do not know how to control.

Unlike the rest of the Sound Village residents, I'm not a shinobi. I don't have chakra reserves that can be used to make and control jutsus. I have enough chakra to live, to be a normal civilian, and that's it. Despite the situation I live in, Orochi refuses to show me basic ninja skills, insisting he won't let any harm come to me and that he likes me 'being a defenseless mouse in need of his protection'.

Slowly, he detaches his teeth from my wrist, his pearly whites coated in my blood. "My darling Little Mouse?" He falls quiet, his eyes scanning my wrist and his face falls. "My poor Mouse, you should have stopped me sooner," he sorrows, his thumb brushing over the three dark tomoes stamped into my wrist.

Orochimaru's head tilts back down, his tongue slithering out to brush over the puncture wounds settled just above the inking. The pleasure starts to melt away, pain quickly melts into its place. When he pulls away, my wrist is coated in his salvia, his spit mixing with the blood dripping across my skin. "Kabuto?" He hums, peppering kisses across the ache. "Fetch me a vial of ketamine and meet us in the lab five would you? And make sure you get someone to clean up the spill."

"Yes, My Lord," the boy mutters, heading toward the open doorway. He stops in the frame, bowing down as he throws out his exit greeting. "My Lord, My Lady."

In one swift moment, Orochi pulls me off my feet, his arm settling under me to hold me in the dip of his elbow. "My darling Mouse," he coos, keeping his grip on my wrist, brushing more kisses across the wound he caused. "You are such a defenseless thing, aren't you? Imagine if I hadn't stopped. Your pain would be immensely worse. You would have to survive with it so much longer. You know how fragile mice are and yet here you are, letting a snake sink its fangs into you."

The constant reminder of the pain I'm in makes it so much worse. My tears shift out of pleasure back to pain. My breath shakes as I try to keep it even, an attempt I'm quickly failing at. The pain isn't as loose or flowy as before. No, now my wrist feels like it's being stabbed with a thousand needles, a feeling that is quickly multiplying and inching down my arm.

"Oh, oh, oh, is my little Mouse crying now? I didn't know you were such a crybaby. Why the tears, Mouse? I didn't bite you that hard. The curse doesn't hurt that bad. You're fine, Mouse," he teases, his mouth shifting focus from my wrist to my cheek, lapping up the salty water from my face. "Your tears always taste so sweet. I adore them," Orochi compliments, his body finally moving forward to carry us to the lab.

The compliment barely registers in my head; my mind is too preoccupied with pain. The needles have trailed up to my shoulder, making me silently pray to any God that'll listen and gift me pain relief or just make my arm fall off at this point. My lungs are pumping over time, any attempt to keep my breath calm is gone. It feels like I'm overheating, sweat droplets trailing down my spine.

Why do I enjoy the feeling of Orochimaru accidentally cursing me? All it brings is aches and pains. It brings torment over the tears my body uses to respond to the pain. "Make it stop," I sob, leaning more of my body weight against him.

"Hush, Little Mouse. You're alright. It doesn't hurt that bad," he murmurs, adding a touch of pressure to the puncture wounds caused by his fangs. Orochi softly hums, nuzzling my neck as he winds around the lefts and rights of the manor, mazing our way to whatever lab he ordered Kabuto to meet us in.

"I think mice, are rather nice," he starts to hum, stalling in front of a dark metal door. "Their tails are long, their faces small," Orochi continues, clicking a code into the pin pad situated by the door, taking a second to peck a kiss on my cheek. "They haven't any, chins at all." A kiss is stamped on my chin. "Their ears are pink." His lips stumble over the shell of my ear. "Their teeth are white." My lips are pecked, an approving buzz spilling from the door, followed by the sound of air letting it open.

"They run about, the house at night," Orochimaru continues the lullaby, whisking me into the room before carefully setting me on my feet. "They nibble things," his smooth voice lulls, gentle nibbles teasing my neck as his hands wrap around my wrists. "They shouldn't touch, and no one seems, to like them much." I'm led further into the dark lab, his thumbs rubbing against the veins laced under his fingertips. "But I think mice, are nice."

The lullaby tumbles around my head, my feet feeling like I'm on a cloud as Orochi leads me around. "I'm a mice," I mutter, my mind foggy with the soft tale and the pain still wrapped around my limbs.

"A mouse. You're a mouse, Darling. My pretty Little Mouse," he gently corrects, sweeping me off my feet again. Orochimaru doesn't hold me for long, his arms around me long enough to set me on one of the counters in the room. His hand cups my fingers, head bowed as he lifts our connection toward his face. "I'll be right back, my Little Mouse. Be a good pet and stay put until I'm back," he softly orders, pressing his lips against my knuckles.

"Yes, my Lord."

"Orochi," he corrects me again, his voice still gentle despite his dislike of repeating himself. "You are your most beautiful while you're in pain, Little Mouse. I cannot get enough of this beautiful sight." My mouth clicks open, an empty sentence resting on the tip of my tongue. A whine of pain spills out instead of words, winding an almost silent chuckle from his lungs. "Exactly, Mouse," he hums, carefully resting my hand on my knee.

My blurry eyes trail after him, watching his outline descend around the darkness. "Close your eyes, Darling," his voice rings out in the dark, my eyelids drooping closed in instant obedience.

There's a click and then a soft buzzing before the fluorescent lights of the lab are waiting outside my closed eyes. A few moments pass, nothing but me, the waiting light, the pain attacking my body, and the sweat covering every inch of my skin. At least until Orochi's fingertips are settled on my lips, slowly sliding back and forth. "You are so pretty, Little Mouse. My pretty, pain-filled, defenseless Mouse."

"Thank you," I slur out, the aches of my muscles and the soft touches from Orochimaru quickly tiring me out.

I can feel his eyes burning into me, tracing the path his fingers forge against my lips. A soft sigh spills from him, his touch falling away from me. "Open your eyes. I want you looking at me."

Slowly, my eyes peel open, squinting against the rough light filling the room. Since they've been closed, he's pulled up a chair and settled in it right in front of me. Enjoyment flickers through his face before melting away, his usual expressionless features quickly back on his face. "This isn't fun-filled pain, Darling. Kabuto needs to hurry so we can celebrate."

My head lulls in agreement, tipping toward the side as I look at Orochimaru. He's not enjoying his time with me, not a single ounce of it. He's right, the boy needs to hurry up so I can feel better, so I can make him happy again. "Why is your face so sorrowful, Little Mouse? Why so sad?"

"I ruined your happiness," I slowly answer, trying to focus on getting my words out right.

Orochi chuckles again, still as soft and airy as before. "You are my happiness, Mouse. Well, aside from the lust for immortality, of course."

     "Of course," I echo, my voice falling short to the sound of the door exhaling and swinging open again.

     My head rocks to the other side, eagerly awaiting my pain medication. Orochi's lips chase after me, stumbling their way on top of mine. His kiss is sweet, still laced with the metallic taste of my blood. "Tasteful," he hums, his tongue sliding out to slide across my bottom lip. "I can't wait for our celebration." I hum in agreement, slowly nodding my head.

     Orochimaru pulls away from me, sitting back in his chair, but his hand still clings to my knee, gripping it like Kabuto is going to snatch me off the countertop. "My Lord, My Lady," the young boy utters, torso tipped down in a bow as he greets us.

     "You couldn't take any longer?" Orochi hisses, snatching the vial from his hand. "Fetch a syringe," he grumbles, waving his assistant away. Another bows comes before Kabuto wandering off to do as ordered.

     My Lord moves forward, his hand sliding up to my thigh. "My darling Little Mouse," he sighs, his long slim fingers toying with the material of my robe, pushing it out of the way so his chilled fingertips can rest against my warm skin. "You'll feel better soon," he adds, the vial between his fingertips being shaken back and forth. The liquid tumbles around behind the glass, the dark of it splashing as it moves.

     The boy returns with a plastic-wrapped syringe in tow. He tips it toward Orochimaru, who quickly snatches it. "Little Mouse, let me see your wrist." I lift my arm, the pins and needles of it amping up with the movement. He rips the plastic off the medical tool and twirls the top of the vial before sticking the needle into the liquid.

     After pulling out the needle, Orochi grips my wrist, his thumb breezing over the cursed marking his bite left. "How should we celebrate my victory?" He asks, eyes locked on his actions. He tips the needle into one of the puncture wounds slowly pushing it into my flesh.

     "Sweets," I mumble, leaning against the stone wall of the lab. "And... and the twinkles."

     "Stars, Little Mouse," he tells me, pushing on the device so that the liquid melts into my veins. "You wish to see the stars?" I nod my head, my tiredness lay heavier on my mind. "We can look at the stars once you wake. I'll make us a nice little spot in the garden and I'll read to you," he coos, carefully pulling the needle out of my wrist.

     My mind is foggy, making it difficult to focus on his words. I think he's agreeing with me but I'm not a hundred percent sure. "Sleep, Mouse," he utters as my eyes fall closed. The chill always haunting Orochimaru’s body envelopes me but does nothing to stop the unconsciousness racing through my body. "My Little Mouse."

                   ————————————

     My eyes slit, ears perked at the sound of Kabuto re-approaching. He took too long to fetch the ketamine. Left my pet in pain for much longer than I appreciate. It excites me, seeing my Mouse squirm and writhe in pain, but that's not the kind of pain my curse brings a person. That's the kind of pain that comes from me poking and prodding at her, from me exploring her most intimate parts.

     When my loyal assistant returns, he holds the syringe for me to grab. I take it, shooting him a side glare before my full focus is on my pet again. "Little Mouse, let me see your wrist."

     Her arm jerks up, discomfort coating her face in ugliness. My Mouse looks so much better being stretched to her limit, her chest pumping for air because I've pushed her to finish too many times, her body covered in sweat because of our physical activities, her body aching from the pretty bruises, bite marks, and swats I've left on it. I don't like her lungs overworking, her sweating because of a fever, or her in pain all because of the accidental curse I gave her.

     My fingers tear at the wrapping of the syringe, anger bubbling in my chest. This is all Mouse's fault. If she wasn't wrapped up in that flowy little robe I gifted her, if her skin didn't look so delicate in the light of the torches, if her blood didn't feel so warm against my tongue, I wouldn't be so drawn to bite her so often.

     My eyes flicker toward my Mouse, her eyes watery and almost empty beside the small spark of discomfort in them. My fingertips focus on opening the vial and dipping the syringe into the jar. I pull back on the plunger, being careful not to fill the hub with too much of the ketamine. I need her knocked out, not dead. It would be such a waste, having to dispose of her and train a new lab pet.

     The needle clicks against the jar as I shake it, knocking off any extra substance clinging to the point. My hand moves up, cupping my Little Mouse's wrist. I rub my fingertip against her, tracing my curse punched into her delicate skin. My anger melts away as I pet her, calmness feeling my chest.

     I hate how calm she makes me feel and how much the thought of her dying bothers me. It's a damper on my education, my mission in life, on my goals. She's nothing but a simple mortal woman. One that I can't help but feel a tsunami of freezing water in my chest every time my thumb rolls across her veins. "How should we celebrate my victory?" I mutter, focused on sliding the needle into one of the open wounds my fangs have left on her body. I don't need to give her another wound to heal.

"Sweets," her soft voice rings out, her pain evident on the edges of her words. My eyes snap close, another chilled wave stirring in my chest. Maybe I should kill my Mouse. If she's not around these feelings wouldn't surface. "And," her voice rings out again, making my eyes snap open. "And the twinkles," she murmurs, her voice uncertain.

"Stars, Little Mouse," I correct, my mind racing to remember the last time I took her outside. I was only gone a week and I'm sure I let her outside the walls of the manor before I left... I think. Maybe I didn't. I'll have to have Kabuto check and perhaps set up a schedule to have my pet taken on walks more often. I'll also need him to put some vitamin D in the sweets I have made for us, just to be sure.

I push down on the plunger, letting the ketamine drip into her bloodstream. "You wish to see the stars?" I know she does, I heard her ask to, but I can't help but crave her voice again, even if it's shaky with discomfort.

My Mouse's head shakes in a yes, the drug already working to make her movements groggy and her eyes heavy. "We can look at the stars once you wake," I hum, disappointment from the lack of a verbal response weighing on the ache in my chest. "I'll make us a nice little spot in the garden and I'll read to you."

I move slowly, inching the needle out of her arm. My eyes stumble across the silver of the needle, my tongue sliding across my teeth with the craving of her warm blood against my taste buds. A hum slithers between my Mouse's lips, pulling on my attention. Her eyes are closed, her head lulling forward.

"Sleep, Mouse," I coo, jerking into a stand. My hands grip the countertop as I lean forward, catching the weight of her warm body against mine. My eyes flutter closed, the weight and warmth of her calming the waves of the hurricane that have been licking at my rib cage. "My Little Mouse," I utter, filling my head to rest it against hers.

"My Lord?" Kabuto calls, ruining the calming moment.

     An annoyed sigh is shoved out of my nose, the peace in my chest melting away and being replaced with my usual indifference. "Get the table ready for the curse removal, have someone set up the gazebo for Mouse's attention feeding, and have the chef begin making those sugar things she enjoys."

     "Yes, My Lord," Kabuto mutters, bowing before he wanders to do as ordered.

     My body relaxes with the sound of the door swinging closed behind him, my attention falling again. "I do not require a pet, don't you know that?" I mutter to her, knowing she can't respond even if she can hear me. "And yet, here you are, my Little Mouse."

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