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#fangs talkin
droolfang · 3 months
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a shadowheart maybe?
bonus lzl
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padawansuggest · 5 months
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Time travel AU - Obi-Wan’s teething starts to pay off
Obi-Wan: *FINALLY gets a single fang cap out with his furiously concentrated teething… hands it to a confused Jaster because he is a small teen wtf is he supposed to do with a tooth cap???*
Jaster: *takes it with a wince* Thank you, Ob’ika, what a lovely gift for me to give your buire when they get home*
Obi-Wan: *grunts out thanks and goes back to concentrating on removing the other five fang caps* Thanks.
Jaster: *wiping his hands with a sanitary cloth and dropping the fang cap in the baggy Silas holds out for him* As I was-
Guy he’s in a meeting with: Um. Did your ad just lose a tooth? Isn’t he a bit big to lose teeth still?
Jaster: No, he didn’t lose a tooth.
Guy: …you lyin??
Jaster: I mean, he didn’t lose the WHOLE tooth-
Guy: IS HE OKAY?????
Jaster: *head in hands* He’s fine, this is normal for his species.
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michajawkan · 5 months
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If you wanna know what a peak Micha character in totality is just know that Baobao Fategrandorder is like 85% of the way there by herself
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noeggets · 11 months
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the new sonic game is gonna be a hit out of the question this is a good party game i do not care
ALSO AMY AND FANG LETS GOOOOOooo
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bokuwahyde-fanpage · 1 year
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k9wa · 23 days
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𑣲 RILE HIM UP ! ft BOOTHILL.
⠀ — your least favourite cyborg is brought back to you a mangled mess.
⠀ OR
⠀ — being boothill’s mechanic when you lowkey can’t stand each other.
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⚠︎ sweet sweet tension, a little suggestive towards the end, gn reader (no referring pronouns), can they fuck already, this was ib by his lightcone, wc 1.9k
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boothill's eyes flickered to life, emitting a faint glow of red as his systems began to reboot.
a pair of familiar red pupils met yours, two crosshairs fading into sight as boothill regained his sight and— to your dismay— consciousness.
as the cyborg regained his motion he attempted a step forward, only to realise he didn’t have the feet or legs to do so. the only thing keeping him powered on were some metal claws screwed into his back and a few loose cables connecting to your terminals.
“sugar plum,” boothill's scruffy voice cut through the silence. “do y'care to explain where my legs might’a run off to?”
you actually cocked an eyebrow. how the hell were you supposed to know? boothill was brought back to you in a mess of scraps and wiring— the damn hunk of metal was lucky you made him as blast proof as possible and he was left salvageable. 
“care to tell me how the hell you got this roughed up?”
you asked in turn, crouching down to look at the detached and ruined internals of boothill's torso where the stand-in wires were connected. you ran a finger carefully along the edge of his shredded metallic stomach.
“guess i didn't make you as smart as i thought. time for a newer model, maybe?”
boothill's eyes flickered down to his missing lower half, then to your hand that was more or less caressing him. it was amazing how much annoyance they could show in all their artificial glory.
“look who’s talkin.” the cowboy grumbled, pointy fangs poking out in an irritated grin. 
“how ‘bout, ‘gee, boothill! i’m real glad y’ain’t get blown to smithereens beyond repair!’” 
“it would've been less work for me if whoever blew you up finished the job.”
you sighed as you stood up, putting a hand lazily on your hip.
“how’d it happen?”
boothill bit back another argument with a gruff chuckle.
“some real cutie-pies i was huntin’ down had a lil’ more firepower than i expected. guess they didn’t appreciate me spoilin’ their party.”
boothill visibly cringed as his insult was substituted with some cutesy nickname mid explanation.
“and can you fix my beautiful synesthesia beacon already? this thing is drivin’ me up the wall.”
the request fell on deaf ears as your fingers typed something on your laptop, likely another string of code.
“you’re more concerned about your censor than how long it’s gonna take me to put your legs back on…” you sighed to yourself, still leaned over your workbench, eyes focused on your screen.
“i'm not touching it right now. you’re lucky i’m even letting you stay sentient after this.”
boothill snorted at the remark, brows furrowing in a steady grimace.
“well, ‘scuse me for wantin’ to speak freely–  i’m a grown man!” his pointy teeth shone as they peeked out again in a grin.
“y’know what? just leave yer lil’ tools and all the pieces there— i’ll get my legs back on myself. don’t need no charity work from the likes’a you.” he laughed. “heck, may even give myself a new pecker while i'm at it!”
the mechanic had half a mind to listen, sit back and watch boothill struggle to reassemble himself just to prove a point and simultaneously bask in his embarrassment when the former realised it wasn’t possible.
(not that he would’ve admitted defeat– you would have begrudgingly stepped in and helped before he inevitably messed up his wiring more.)
you stepped back over to boothill, hands moving to hold his cheeks so you could tilt his face side to side to check for any more damage.
“cool it, cowboy.” your eyes squinted in focus as they looked at boothill's, lightly tugging up on his eyelid to check for scratches or cracks.
“i'll get you back up and running, just lose the attitude already.”
boothill's eyes narrowed as he felt your touch on his face. the temperature difference of warm fingers on his cold, mechanical body stirring an oddity where his gut should have been. though he tried to ignore it, the sensation was there, clear as day against all his artificial nerve endings. 
“real easy for you to say,” he huffed, avoiding your eyes as he was examined like a broken toy. “let’s see how peachy you are when yer all strung up and legless, love muffin.”
that censor really was gonna drive him insane.
“just get it over with.'' boothill muttered in annoyance. “and try not t’fuss anythin’ up.”
it took quite some time, as expected, for you to successfully reattach boothill’s legs and fix his mangled midsection. when you were finally finished, you tugged out any leftover wires that connected boothill to your terminals and pushed back in your wheelie chair to beckon the cowboy forward. you pushed your glasses up to your forehead, some hair getting swept out of your eyes with them.
“feel fine?”
boothill rolled his ankles and bent his knees, giving his legs a good stretch to test their mobility.
“mighty fine,” he responded, satisfied to feel they were weighted and moved the same as before. “though i can’t say i’m lovin’ the breeze up my backside.” 
boothill glanced down at himself, steel body completely bare and lacking any of his signature clothing. 
“got my pants lyin’ around anywhere, sugar plum?”
you pointed to another table in the room, where boothills clothes— (or rather the new ones you had to go and get—) were neatly folded, his hat placed on top of them. 
boothill went to get himself dressed, hoisting up his bell bottomed pants and sliding on his jacket. he stole a glance in your direction every so often, resisting the childish urge to roll his eyes at the mere sight of you.
the artificial man hit a small bump in the road as he went to zip his jacket (could you really call it that with how little it covered?) up—  his fingers weren’t responding as well as they should have been. he could open and close his fist, but lacked the precision to pinch and hold the zipper.
“hey, honeybun,'' boothill called over to you with a furrowed brow. “didn’t i tell you not to go fudgin’ anythin’ up?”
you, in all your overtired glory groaned, turning around in your chair and waving boothill back over.
“what are you talking about?” 
“my cute lil’ fingers ain’t workin’ that’s what i’m talkin’ ‘bout!”
boothill's footsteps were clunky and loud as he stomped his way back over to his mechanic.
you reached for his hand, an uncharacteristic gentleness in your touch as you examined five mechanical fingers.
“make a fist,”
boothill obeyed, curling his fingers into his palm.
“open it,”
he obeyed again, letting them open and relax.
“hold up two fingers,”
boothill tried, but his fingers got stuck halfway into the motion, locking at the joints.
“son of a bitch.” you sighed, turning for one of your tools. “sit back down.”
boothill grumbled and went to hoist himself back onto the workbench.
“least one o’us can say it…” 
“do you want me to fix you or not?”
“i'm sittin’ ain’t i??”
you pulled boothill's shirt off his left shoulder and popped open a tiny panel on the curve of his neck, sliding your glasses back on to the bridge of your nose. with a lean forward you began carefully looking at a few thin wires that filled the space.
boothill tapped his fingers against the tabletop while you worked, that same oddity as before settling in his now repaired gut. he rarely got messed up enough for you and him to spend this much time together, or for you to have to really be in such close proximity.
it’s not uncomfortable, but the feeling is by no means familiar. it’s actually a little embarrassing– a galaxy ranger, a space cyborg and expert hunter, feeling almost flustered at some close contact like some kind of shy little girl.
“something the matter?”
boothill nearly jumped as you spoke up quietly to check on him, voice quiet and so close to his ear he had to refrain from leaning both closer and away.
“nah, everything’s just dandy.” boothill’s voice followed yours– quieter and a little softer as a result of the closeness.
“you’re sure?” you looked up from the small mess of wires, eyes glancing up at your cyborg over the rim of your glasses. “might as well fix anything else that’s bugging you while i’m here.”
boothill would have swallowed if he had the need to lubricate his throat. he shook his head, turning to look somewhere— anywhere else.
yours lingered on him, albeit briefly, observing the clench of his jaw and the way he tried to shift in his seat without being disruptive to your work. he didn’t see the little smirk tug at your lips as you refocused on the task at hand.
boothill’s cybernetic limbs felt almost human in their sensitivity, sending faux shivers up a spine he didn’t even have. the mechanics fingers running down his forearm are doing him no favours as they move to hold his hand again.
“close your fist…open it…two fingers up…”
each command was obeyed, ten gunmetal fingers finally holding up a little peace sign.
“that should be it, come see me if they start acting up again.”
you stood up, tentatively reaching out to fix boothill’s jacket and begin to zip it for him.
boothill didn’t protest the act, but it was…confusing, to say the least.
“reckon i’ll just start seein’ those auto bots again,” he leaned back on his palms as your fingers fixed his collar, straightening it out.  “much as i love our lil’ visits.”
you only hummed, smoothing out a few wrinkles and neatly tucking his scarf into it’s neckline, as he liked. “you could,” you mused, hooking your finger lightly into his collar and giving a gentle tug forward. “they don’t take as good care of you as i do, though.”
this time boothill caught the little smirk on your lips, clear as day and enough to make him question if short circuiting was possible.
you’re doing it on purpose, he knows. the careful touches to his hands and body against the sensors you put there, quiet voice leaving him with a frisson you made it possible for him to have.
boothill returned the smirk, albeit a little wobbly.
“you tryin’a rile me up, sugar plum?” 
he entertained you with a lean forward, two white crosshairs looking right at you while he considered if a hand on your waist was too forward or the perfect cornering move. 
“just like watching you squirm.”
you were gone as quickly as you’d arrived, finger unhooked and going to pick up his hat.
“but say i was,” you didn’t bother with a glance over as you made sure the brim was straight and unharmed. “i hardly have to try.” 
boothill hopped down from the table, following your path and offering a scruffy chuckle when you reached up to place it on his head.
“yeah? and what makes y’say that?” his hand found a place on his hip.
you didn’t respond— not verbally, anyway. a quick flick of your eyes downwards was all he received. 
so he followed, looking down as well, to the very appendage he had insisted you give him over and over again pushing against his trousers. 
his own dream, now his downfall. 
boothill pushed passed you, pushing his hat further down onto his head while he stomped away. the profanities that left his lips filled the air— or rather their replacements. something something i love you blah blah peach cobbler something cutie-pie or meow!
“remind me t’settle for them lovely auto bots next time!”
he opened the door with a firm kick of his boot, stomping out with a scowl. 
as if he wouldn’t be back. you took better care of him, after all.
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⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?
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killerpancakeburger · 1 month
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Imagine: Ghost giving you the shovel talk after Soap and you made your relationship official
It's the evening, you two are smoking outside in companionable silence, taking in the star-spangled sky. Suddenly his voice pulls you out of your daydreaming.
"So... you n' Johnny, eh?”
You feel an ominous shiver run down your spine - you do not like the turn this conversation is taking. His tone is steady, like it usually is, but it means nothing when that specter is involved. He could be slicing a throat and his voice wouldn't waver a iota.
If there was anything you learned about The infamous Ghost, in the absence of his identity and the face beneath the mask, it was that the names he used for the people he considered his family were anything but random. Soap was the most common way he refered to his Sergeant, but a Johnny could slip here and there. "Johnny" was personal; intimate; vulnerable; and possessive all at once. Not in the way an insecure lover would act - although...? Maybe...? -, but in the way a pack member would bare his fangs at a newcomer to protect his mates.
There was something animalistic buried within him that would resurface from time to time, when the risk was too great, when the survival of the 141 or of any of its members was jeopardized. Something you would not risk to vex. Simon was extremely protective behind closed doors, it wasn’t a scoop, but you thought yourself safe from his fangs... or at least you did until now.
"Yeah?"
How you hate the interrogation in your voice. As if you were seeking his permission. Like a child knowing they're asking for too much but doing it anyway.
You busy yourself with your cigarette, trying to look unfazed.
"He may sound like a fuckin' playboy most of the times, but he's actually a sensible kinda fella. Doesn't go around givin' his heart to just anyone, y'know?"
You gulp. Take a deep breath. The only way out is through. Might as well be done with it.
"So, is this the part where you swear that no one will ever find my body if I hurt him?"
You're proud of how casual you managed to sound.
He actually chuckles at that. A relaxed, raspy, unbothered kind of sound. Maybe you will walk away with your life tonight after all.
"Got it all figured out, don't ya? But that's good. Saves us some time."
He tosses his cigarette and, for the first time since you’ve been outside, he turns to you and look you in the eye. His stare is as intense as ever.
"We're in agreement, then? Ya'll treat mah boy well?"
"Wouldn't dream of anything else."
"Good lass."
A pause, then:
"This works both way, y'know that, right?"
"Hmm?"
Too busy celebrating your escape from the valley of the shadow of death, you haven't been completely paying attention.
"If he gives ya trouble, I'll knock some sense into that thick head of his."
You look at him again, your face beaming and your chest tingling with a newfound joy.
"Thank you."
You smile, unable to stop the motion of your lips. Your gratefulness is not for the threat he proclaimed, but for the friendship he extends to you.
He doesn't answer. He doesn't need to.
Suddenly a burly arm wraps around your neck.
"What were ya guys talkin' about!? You’ve been there for ages." Pouts Soap.
Glancing over at Ghost, you can see that Johnny has tried to grab him by the neck too, with a lukewarm success, considering the height difference between the two of them.
"Nothin' ye need to concern yerself with", retorts Simon, lying as easily as he breathes.
As Johnny turns to you in hopes of finding an easier target that will confess everything, you nearly miss the conspiratorial wink Ghost sends your way. The action is so far removed from his usual character, you understand that the discrepancy is made to amuse you. So you giggle.
Tonight the sky is full of stars, and your heart full of bliss, the way you feel like your chest might burst with happiness at any moment, with those two men at your side.
A/N: Platonic!Reader x Ghost my beloved 😫 🖤 Tried to make Ghost the less OOC as possible, as usual >_< but man its not a walk in the fookin park.
Trouple potential tho? 👀 sorry not sorry, I can't help it, I love the ambiguity...
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cupidzgf · 4 months
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FACETIME | SATORU GOJO
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☁︎‎‎‧₊˚ summary: have you seen those tiktoks with girls talking about how they've been "traumatized" on facetime because their boyfriends said, "keep talking" while secretly getting off to their girlfriend's voice over an innocent call? let me set the scene for you…
contents: mdni, nsfw, afab reader, male masturbation, a little bit of sub satoru, voice kink, basically one-sided phone sex, lmk if i missed anything, w/c: 1.5k
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SATORU lies on facetime with you in the late hours of the night. he's been across the country for the past two weeks due to a cursed womb (or so he says; you never understand what he is talking about). so you two settled for calling one another any night he was available, even though he loved to rub, "aww, did you miss me, sweetheart? i bet you're bedridden with sadness over my departure," in your face.
week two comes to a close on saturday night, and still, he's stuck with another sorcerer he claims "gets in the way of his technique" and is "virtually useless." you try to remind him to be kind, but it goes in one ear and right out the other.
he had already recounted his day to you, albeit tiredly, but he filled you in with the same happy-go-lucky attitude you're used to from his luxurious hotel bed as he turned his attention to you for you to do the same. throughout your recollection of the past three days, he grows increasingly antsy, fidgeting too much for it to be nothing. his phone constantly scrapes against the bed sheets as he adjusts the angle, but you don't comment on it, more focused on how nice it is to talk to him after three days since your last call.
no matter how much gojo is gone, it never ceases to leave a hollow hole in your chest, crawling with pits of negative emotions. knowing bits and pieces of the danger he faces does nothing to ease your worried consciousness over his well-being when he's away. he knows this and does well to accommodate the loneliness and anxiety that follows his absence, ensuing these calls when he can. not that he isn't as obsessed with you as you are with him, but he's more considerate than most people give him credit for.
you continue recounting the details of work and its latest drama, something satoru is usually very attentive to. in his line of work, drama comes in a much different form, which is why you assume that yours is a distraction from his. yet his lack of response begins to raise warning flags. his typically energetic and reassuring demeanor is replaced by eerie silence. questions about his behavior start to filter and infiltrate your scrambling thoughts.
it was easy to assume that it was your fault. maybe he was tired and didn't want to hear you ramble? perhaps he doesn't want to be rude and tell you to shut up? what if you're annoying or boring him? even as he's assured you hundreds of times before how he loves to hear you talk and share your life with him, the insecure part of your mind starts to turn on you with bared teeth and fangs.
as you finish your sentence, a beat of silence passes, and you wait with bated breath for a huff of laughter that never comes. he doesn't respond, heavy breathing filtering through your phone's speakers so quietly you have to strain your ears to hear it. you furrow your eyebrows, biting your nails as the silence stretches on.
"toru?" you softly ask, tilting your phone screen to get a better angle of the dark room staring back at you through the screen. the hotel room provided little in the way of light.
"yeah?" he replies, his voice strained with a tinge of breathlessness.
"are you okay? you're not injured, right?"
a shaky hum vibrates your phone ever so slightly, and you catch a glimpse of his spikes of white hair in the darkness. "yeah…yeah, sweet cheeks, just keep talkin' f'me, alright?" i'm close, goes unspoken, but he's too focused on the sound of your voice that could have only been gifted by the heavens and his hard, leaking cock to dwell further.
it's been two weeks, and he feels like he will go insane before the semi-grade 1 he's supposed to supervise exercises the curse.
suguru had recommended that the kid be moved to a grade 1 sorcerer, which was fine with him. he didn't interact with his juniors often but figured his calmer other half had a plan. why should he care? that was until he'd been put on assignment with him to exorcise a special grade halfway across the country, and suddenly, he cared a whole fucking lot.
it had only been because of suguru and leiri that he didn't whine and complain until they assigned someone else about why he, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, was given something so….so….(suguru hadn't let him finish the sentence before he was given a cold glare). but the old bastards had a way of making his life hell, and now he was left to sleep in a rundown hotel (the kid insisted it was the fanciest thing he'd ever seen), pent-up and irritated out of his mind.
you, however, had been his saving grace when after a particularly long day, you called him. sporting the cute pajama set he likes to smack your ass in, how was he not supposed to find your voice attractive? i mean, come on, he hadn't even had time to jerk off in those two weeks; what was he supposed to do? not as quietly as possible, take his cock out of his pants?
at your end of the call, his out-of-character attitude makes you suspicious. however, for the sake of conversation, you attempt to brush it off until it hits you, and you pause for your next word. "what are you doing?"
silence. you are met with piercing silence and then an unsteady chuckle. you can imagine him shaking his head as he clears his throat uncomfortably. "listening to you, whad'ya ask?"
"you're really quiet…and i can't see you. if you don't want to listen to me, just say so," you murmur softly, delicately even. the next second, there's a poorly concealed grunt, teetering on the edge of a whine. both of you pause at the same time, the humming of the air conditioning outrageously loud in the stillness that follows.
"fuck, i'm sorry, i'm so sorry. i just can't take it anymore." moaning, the vulgar sounds of wet slick fill the air, and it's then the realization comes crashing down.
your jaw slackens, utter shock overtaking your now stiff body. "what the fuck?" you breathe, astonished. "h-how long–"
"since you started talking," he strains, and the familiar build of an orgasm from his hand frantically pumping his length drenched in pre is a lewd sight. spreading his legs further from where he lies on the bed, he whines back, arching as the tightness in his balls makes him feverish, his cock impossibly hard. he's become desperate to hear you speak, pleading for you to give him that push off the edge and into the insanity of release. "oh, fuck, keep going, please--"
"oh my god, you're such a perverted freak! i wasn't doing anything sexual, and you're beating your cock to my voice—"
he knows he's depraved, but cumming to the sound of you degrading him over the phone has to be a new low. especially the way his pent-up release feels like heaven crashing over his body in a tidal wave and sweeping him off his feet. he moans, shuddering with a sweet cry when you gasp in that cute voice of yours as you realize he came.
panting, satoru slumps on the bed, his hand and the bedsheets drenched in his seed. his eyes follow the mess he made to his phone, where spurts of sticky white land where your face is on the screen.
"you're sick." he knows you don't actually mean that. you're just in shock, right? turned on? maybe you'll even take off your pants, and he can get a glimpse of that sweet pussy… "i'm breaking up with you."
satoru is violently ripped out of his lust-filled fantasy as he grabs his phone in a flurry, cringing at how his fingers stick and smear over the metal. "no, no, no, no. i'm sorry, pretty baby; i didn't mean to make you mad."
pouting, a face that he knows garners your sympathy, he attempts to coo his words in a sickly sweet, desperate voice he knows you love. "i've just been so pent up without you and your pussy that i couldn't help myself. you were being so good for me, i couldn't hold it in anymore. :("
he holds the camera to his face, praying it captures not only the sad tone but also his frown and sad eyes of apology. "i'll be better next time, sweet girl, i promise."
your eyes move across your face before you stand and pace around your shared room, rubbing a hand over your eyes. "i hate you," you murmur, and his face lightens up with an ear-splitting grin as you grumble about how he could have at least done it with you. all was forgiven as far as he was concerned.
"ugh, you're disgusting. just… go clean up." sighing, you sit back on the bed, side-eyeing him when he doesn't move.
he perks up, grinning as his following retort comes to mind. "only if you talk me through it."
automated beeps from the now-ended call are the only things that reply.
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©2023 cupidzgf. do not copy, translate, modify, or repost my content onto other sites without my permission
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privitivium · 2 months
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hihi :3
okay so I'm kinda obsessed with dog hybrid!reader, (and yes this is going to be a teacher/student the g why wouldn't it be?) so like we get a question right our tail wags, talkin with a buddy: tail wags, talking with Teacher? tail wagging so much ommgg dont get me wrong tho as much as i love dog hybrids and stuff i strongly dislike the petnames pup & puppy. so if/when u do this request i ask u steer clear of those PLEASE....(mutt, dog, hound idc)
so scene is maybe we're hangin out with him whether or not his break, after, before school etc etc, perhaps we already have this 'on the down low' relationship and he gets frisky one day and wants to play with us heheh, maybe like grabbing our tail or ears (or petting, and yes "sensitive ear+tail trope is in the room) and moral of the story is maybe he makes us cum without touching our dick (ie tail, tails, nips, neck even?)
sorry its so long dude 😭, love ur drabbles !!
— 🍸
me w cat hybrid dudes.... no worries, thank you for kind words.... both amab, cw for good boy/sweet boy, teacher/student relationship - 18/23, reader has sensitive dog ears and tail.
dom teacher/sub doghybrid reader
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at his house on a weekend... or just before school at his desk. it was a bit routine, already having an ongoing loving relationship with his darling little dog boy... so excitable and so easy to manipulate. playing with your body damn near whenever he fucking pleased - you were just so happy to provide pleasure, weren't you? it's a miracle that he loves you as much as you love him. jerking off to the sounds of your whimpers of your own orgasm over messages. sending pictures of himself messy with cum all over his abdomen - saying it was all because of you,,,. and even routinely teasing you throughout the day. he couldn't help himself-! passing you and giving your ears a soft scratch before continuing down the hallway and leaving you to shrink in embarrassment as your pants grow tighter. always having to keep a huge hoodie on standby...
so, merely soaking in each other's presence. sitting at his desk and watching so intently as he fiddles on his computer; your tail wagging so ferociously, so clearly happy to be around him. he hums softly at the quiet sound of your tail fwipping back and forth... taking a brief moment to admire you as you watch the screen - he couldnt help himself... reaching over to stroke along the furry tendrilㅡhe thinks it's obvious what he wants. heat pooling to his crotch at the memories of you hollowing around his prick - accidental, truly!! he didn't mean to get all horny, man, it's just the natural effect you have on him... it's your own fault... muscle memory and all.
it was just so fucking cute to him. you were too obvious. and you didnt even know it! waving your hand in greeting as your tail whips behind your back at lightning speed... having to act all nonchalant with him, but you couldnt quite control the way your tail fwips back and forth unrelenting... you- you just need to have a little emotional training is all... absentmindedly petting you - very much conscious of the soft little pants leaving your lips - all hot n heavy so suddenly? was it him? his touch? so predictable... he's glad.
"so sweet..." he had the gall to mumble, grinning widely as he tugs you gently to sit on his lap - helping you slide off the desk. so eager to follow orders and sit on his thighs - fangs poking out from your toothy smile. back propped against the edge of his desk... and erection prominent. humming softly, unfazed by the sight of his prized, precious students' bulge that was the product of his teasing. "let's give it some air." he suggests, slowly unzipping your jeans. your head bobbing up and down ecastatically - your eyes nearly glazing with tears of excitement - christ.
you were so much thicker than he was... your half-hard cock dribbling pre and you were breathing so heavily - feeling his own bulge against your ass. he was jealous - damn your genes... but- it was so lovely to tease. and... he'd make quite the show of doing the opposite of that. hands dipping underneath your shirt - careful not to graze your cock... hand reaching up and rubbing along the inner of your ears. tongue nearly lulling past your lips at his affection... just so fucking cute.
your tail nearly defying logic with how speedily it fwips... pulling you forward and reaching back just to tug your tail into view. fluidly stroking it... a soft hum leaving his throat at your closed eyes and furrowed eyebrows... lips parted as he cruelly ignores your aching prick weeping like a broken fountain that needed maintence. so soft... he couldnt help losing himself as he gently pets you - so lovingly... knowing what exactly to make you fidget and squirm on his lap... his hand leaving your tail - just to push your shirt up. revealing your chest ,,, your puffy, hardened nipples he takes no time to abuse. rubbing and pulling... head dipping in the crook of your neck and gently kissing... sucking as he moves back to fondle your tail.,,,
ㅡwith a low whimper escaping your saliva glossy lips - the coiling of your lower intestines - the fluttering feeling of his fingertips ghosting over your overtly sensitive nipples - you just couldn't h-hold backㅡ"ah,,, and look at that..." his voice,,, mumbling. in a trance, as he watches the overflow of cum dribble from the slit of your cockhead with admiration - all that, without touching your prick... so sensitive. you must like him a whole lot, huh? or maybe, you were just that easy,,,
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theflowerrooms · 9 months
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To Request • Miguel’s Masterlist • Main Masterlist
Running Red
Miguel O’Hara x spider-person!reader (gender neutral)
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Summary; Miguel was a fair leader and a fair lover, never did he blend the two titles, never had he taken his anger from work on you, until now.
wordcount: 1.8k
Warnings: angst, arguing, Miguel is a bit aggressive, insults, hurt/comfort, very slight ATSV spoilers
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Miguel had three different modes. The silent, brooding kind, seemingly displeased at all moments. That was his default mode, the one most everyone saw, the one most often associated with his name. And then there was his stressed mode, where he would rant, and rant. A loud string of blurred Spanglish that was intelligible to anyone but himself as he paced back and forth anxiously. That wasn’t seen by too many, mostly yourself, Jess and sometimes Peter. Finally, there was the gentle touches that would lead to more, soft smiles and sweet words. Intimate kisses, goosebumps, and whispered ‘I love you’s’. That was reserved for you
This was new, whatever this was. Silent for a while, and then loud venting, eyes glowing scarlet, slight lisping because he was so angry he couldn’t retract his fangs. It wasn’t like you didn’t understand, he was carrying the entire world on his shoulders. But then again, that wasn’t something you could ever fully understand. You’d been by Miguel’s side for nearly all of it, but you’d never been in his place.
“Miguel, baby, please try to calm down-” “No!” He snapped loudly, cutting you off faster than you could process it. That only made it worse. Miguel was a pessimist, and you were a mediator. You’d defended Gwen- and Miles, every chance you could. You didn’t think they were entirely in the wrong.
You reached a hand out to him and he only jerked away from it, that felt like a blow to the chest. He was acting like you were against him, like you were the opposing force and you weren’t, it was stressing you out.
You sighed and chewed your lip. “None of this is Gwen’s fault, you know this.” You pulled your arms closer to body, making yourself seem smaller, but still not backing down from the conversation-turned-argument.
He dragged a palm down his face and turned slightly to look away from you. “I was an idiot. I took a chance on her. I was an idiot for taking a chance on her.” He growled, fingers twitching at his sides.
“You took a chance on all of us- You took a chance on me-” your voice shook slightly and he cut you off quickly. “I wouldn’t have if I’d known you would turn out like this, so stupid.” He spat, voice laced with venom and resentment.
Your arms dropped to your sides and your lip wobbled. You wanted to yell and fight, you wanted to be angry. But you were only sad, hurt, more insecure than you’d ever been in front of Miguel.
The features of his face, aged with stress, softened just slightly, his tense shoulders sloped as he realized what he’d said, how it affected you.
The image of your partner in front of you blurred as your eyes welled with tears. He had yet to say anything else and you weren’t going to stand there and wait, so you turned on your heel. You wouldn’t let him see you cry.
He watched you walk away and you could feel his eyes on your back. Part of you was grateful he didn’t put up a fight against you walking away but a bigger part of you wished he’d apologized immediately, or begged you to stay there with him and explain that he didn’t really think you’re stupid. He watched you walk away instead. Did he really think you were stupid?
✽-
You had no interest in staying in his universe, and your own universe wasn’t quite an option. That’s how you found yourself sitting on the floor of Mayday’s nursery in Peter’s world. She squished her little head against yours, wild hair tickling your cheeks which were soft from crying. ‘Baby-love. Cures all types of sad.’ Peter had said. You had to admit he wasn’t all that wrong.
“Do you feel like talkin’ yet? Or…” Peter offered, leaning against the doorframe with two cups of coffee in his hands.
You smiled weakly. “Thank you for letting me borrow your baby.” You squeezed Mayday in a gentle hug. He took it as permission to hand you a coffee and sit on the floor with you, which you were entirely fine with.
It was quiet for a bit. You sipped your coffee and pulled your knees to your chest as Peter’s baby clumsily made her way over to him. He stared at you, his eyes kind and inviting. “Peter we’ve known each other for a good while, worked together a ton. Have you ever thought of me as stupid?” Your voice wavered toward the end of the question.
Peter tilted his head and furrowed his eyebrows. “Of course not. Why would you even ask that? It’s been an honour to fight alongside you. You’re so intelligent, you’re a wonderful teammate and a wonderful person. You’re far from stupid. I mean- Obviously. Miguel wouldn’t give you that much responsibility if he thought you were stupid.” He laughed softly, but the mood shifted and his demanour had entirely changed. He must've sense of change in your expression when he said Miguel's name. "Did Miguel say something to make you think that? Did he call you stupid?" He looked mad, and although it rose your anxiety, you knew none of it was directed at you.
“He said he wouldn’t have taken a chance on me if he’d known I turned out this way. ‘So stupid’ he said. I’m not sure if he meant taking a chance on me was stupid or I’m stupid but-”
“Either way.” Peter cut you off, finishing your sentence. He shook his head. “He shouldn’t have said that, Miguel doesn’t think you’re stupid.” He scoffed and you only shrugged. “Don’t let what he said make you think that. He doesn’t think you’re stupid- and even if he does, you aren’t. Understand?” He rose his eyebrows and you nodded with a sympathetic smile. While you loved Peter, and valued his opinion, you weren’t worried about what he thought right now. Miguel’s words were replaying in your head.
‘I wouldn’t have if I’d known you would turn out like this, so stupid.’
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
✽-
You’d spend the night at Peter and MJ’s that night, in their world. Alone in their guest bed rather than wrapped safely in Miguel’s arms like you were used to.
You were mostly over it now, having gone over everything in your head again and again, with each word Miguel said repeating in your mind. You’d mentally given him a million excuses, just desperate to be over it so you could forgive him and then everything would be fine.
Of course you had yet to forgive him, and nothing was fine. You weren’t sure if you could sleep in a bed so cold and lonely.
“Amor?” Miguel’s voice startled you and you scrambled, sitting up in the bed. You hadn’t heard or sensed him anywhere nearby. Did Peter let him in? “Can we talk? Please?” He spoke monotone, straight faced. This was the cold, emotionless Miguel that others were used to seeing. For a moment you worried he was still angry with you, that this front was to hide emotions he was feeling because he was about to break up with you- for being so stupid. Though, would he have addressed you that way if that was the case?
You nodded and chewed your lip. “We can talk.” You wanted to return the straight, monotone voice he'd given you, but you stumbled over your words. You wondered if your eyes were still puffy from crying- and that's when you noticed his were too. He’d clearly been crying. You’d never seen Miguel cry before, you were witnessing entirely new parts of him today.
He sat on the side of the bed and rested a large palm on your shin through the blanket. “I am so- I shouldn’t have- I’m so sorry. I do not think you’re stupid.” He kept eye contact with you. It was important to him that you understood how serious this was to him. “I didn’t mean to say it like that. I’m so grateful to have you by my side- and I- you’re not stupid-”
“Miguel- I’m not mad at you, you have so much on your plate, it’s okay-”
“It is not. I should not have said that to you- I didn’t mean to say it like that. I don’t think you’re stupid, I think I have been stupid, I could have prevented all this and I didn’t.” His voice shook. He was showing you insecurity and vulnerability; two things he’d made you feel already. You appreciated what he was doing for you right now and you understood how hard it was for Miguel to give himself to you like this.
You moved to your knees and took his face in your hands, smoothing your thumb over the worry lines between his eyebrows. “It’s not your job to save the world Miguel. I think it’s incredible that you’ve made it your job, but still it doesn’t have to be. You haven’t done anything wrong, and you haven’t been stupid.” You pouted slightly and let him kiss the pout off of you. One kiss releasing all the tension and stress from you both.
You rested your forehead against his and then two of you stayed like that for a while; breathing each other in, basking in the closeness. “You really don’t think I’m stupid?” You asked, the corner of your mouth quirking up into a smirk.
“No, no, lo siento carino, lo siento- te amo, mucho mucho mucho-” He rambled in a tone similar to baby-talk, peppering kisses all over your face until you were giggling and pushing his big head away.
“Te amo! I love you too!” You laughed, leaning against him. “Don’t ever speak to me like that again.” You still had a soft smile on your face, but you were being serious and he knew.
A kiss to the top of your head “Never.” He replied. You hummed, head against his chest and palm against his lean torso.
“Good. Because if you do, I’ll turn evil and start causing problems by tearing holes in all kinds of universes. And Jess and Peter won’t help you stop me because they think I’m cooler than you.” You joked and he fake laughed.
Gently, with faux annoyance, he pushed you away from him. “Is there anything I can do now to persuade you not to do that in the future?” He inquired, leaning toward you.
“Hold me?”
You weren’t doomed to sleep in the cold, desolate bed all on your own anymore. Gifted with Miguel’s arm thrown over your body and holding you tightly, he pressed his nose lightly into your hair and his heart beating against your back. You hoped Peter wouldn’t mind Miguel having a surprise sleepover.
He didn’t mind at all.
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droolfang · 8 days
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actually fuck it send me doodle requests my characters characters from fan media kinks whatever gimme some horny stuff to DOODLE
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anchoeritic · 1 year
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babes what we thinking; mean! dad’s bsf! jake when reader is tsu’tey’s daughter? 🙈😵‍💫
him being an asshole while his cock's still sitting inside your tight cunt, ramming in and out of you with a hand slapped over your mouth. tsu'tey is only a few feet away, talking to your mother about how he caught you talking to one of the other boys in the clan.
jake's even more fucking mad now bcs he was the one who found you with the boys and ran over to tell your dad. "you think you're so cute, huh, baby?" his hips are slamming into you, balls slapping up on your ass. he has your face pressed up against the tree with your back arched like a cat, his hands roaming all over your body.
"talkin' to other boys now?" whispering into your ear, "this cock not big enough for you, sweetie?" he asked, pulling your hair back and making you let out a quiet whimper. "n-no, no, jake. please," your nails are scratching into the wood, trying your hardest to stay in place.
"tell me who this pussy belongs to," he's biting at your ear lobe, the tip of his fang digging into the cartilage. "don't make me ask you again." only a cry escaped from your throat, the feeling of his cock brushing over your cervix sending you into a bundle of babbles.
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milkyybuns · 1 year
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the best christmas present arataki itto x reader
contains: smut! (MDNI 18+ only), fem!reader, pet names, heavy breeding + pregnancy k!nk, talks about having kids, tummy bulge, size k!nk (itto is an oni), creampie, l-bomb
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"Hahh think I...know what I want for Christmas." Itto groans against your skin.
"W-wha?" You let out a confused yelp from under him, barely coherent as your big oni boyfriend pressed deeper into you, your walls squeezing him tightly with each push and pull of his hips.
"Mmhmm I want, hahh...babies." He growls into your ear.
*Lots 'n lots of 'em, yuh huh...l'm talkin…...a whole. damn. gang." His slurred words punctuated by heavy thrusts, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.
You whimper at the thought, paired with the sensation of his body melded against yours it was all so overwhelming. But he wasn't done talking yet.
"Just think about it baby, cute half-oni kids runnin' round everywhere." He babbles on as his hips ruts into you faster and faster.
"I'd be a real good dad, promise. And... fuck, you'd be such a pretty mommy." Itto curves his large hand around your hip, pressing down on your tummy, specifically on the slight bulge there as his fat cock moved in and out of your twitching cunt.
"Oh fuck sunshine, think you just, ah, squeezed me just then. I knew it, you want me to make you a mommy too yeah? Fuck I don't think I could, oh shit, k-keep my hands off you if you get pregnant, gonna make sure you stay pregnant and...fuck more kids into ya, one after the other." Itto practically growled his last sentence as he used his body weight to push as much of himself into you as possible. You saw stars in the ceiling as his cock reached so deep it felt like it was in your damn throat.
His big clawed hands grabbed at the softness of your sides, the loud sound of skin against skin filled the room as he rambled on.
*Love ya, love ya so much, my pretty sunshine, gonna make you the prettiest mommy! Oh f-fuck."
"Itto I'm-!"
Your mouth opened in a silent scream as your hands slipped down his sweat-covered back. You squeezed around him like a vice, taking him to the edge with you. He's never cum this much before. You feel it filling your insides and seeping out at the base, you shuddered at the thought of being so fucking full of his warm, potent seed.
Itto grins, fangs shining in the dim lamp light as he takes a second to admire your fucked out state, as he presses your knees to your ears.
"Now let's make sure it takes."
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coffeeghoulie · 21 days
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T4T swisstom with 20 for the kiss prompts if you comfortable with it
pls and thank you (your writing is amazing)
Thank you so much, and thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy this!
#20: Kiss on a scar from this prompt list
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It's sticky and hot, middle of July heat making everything miserable. Even with the air conditioning cranked, the ghouls lament their normal piles, breaking off into pairs or alone. (Rain, however, whines with frustration when most of his mates aren't keen on cuddling together, his lower body temperature making the summer heat much more bearable.)
Swiss and Aeon find themselves on one of the couches in the common room, comfortably high and plastered together. Swiss, part fire, runs a little warmer, but Aeon's too clingy to really care. They chuff, rubbing their cheek against his chest, the scrape of his coarse chest hair just on the right side of too much stimulation.
Swiss raises his head lazily, gold eyes locked on them. "You comfy, bug?" He says, voice languid and slow.
"Mhm," Aeon hums, tongue too heavy in their mouth for longer answers. "You're pretty."
"Hmm?" Swiss says, a purr kicking up in his chest. Aeon giggles, pressing their face closer to him. His heartbeat thuds against his ribs, and Aeon lets their eyes shut, feeling it pulse against their cheek.
"Said you're pretty," Aeon repeats, rubbing their face against him like a cat. Their nose runs along the well-healed scars under his pecs, and they can't help themself but to press a kiss to the long line of faded scar tissue.
Swiss laughs, the sudden motion jolting them. "Nah, you're the pretty one, bug, you're all starry and shit."
Aeon whines, curling closer to him as their tail finds his, spiraling around it. "Not fair that you're good sweet-talkin' while you're high."
"Got lots of practice," Swiss coos, hand coming up to run through their sweaty hair. "Besides, you're doing pretty good at it too."
Aeon lifts their head, their purple eye meeting his gold, both of their pupils inky and swallowing up most of their irises. "Yeah?'
"Yeah," Swiss confirms with a little nod.
Aeon preens, giggling as they settle back down against Swiss's bare chest. They press little kisses under his pecs. "The best pillows," they declare, startling another laugh out of Swiss. The flash of teeth is a victory. "Switties."
"Dork," Swiss's hand skates up their back, skin clammy with sweat, fingers playing with the hem of their binder.
"Your dork," Aeon counters, mouthing at his chest, the barest hint of fangs against his skin. "'M your dork."
Swiss sits up a little, just enough to kiss the sweaty hair between their horns. "Yeah, bug, you're my dork. I'm not your chew toy though."
"Aw," Aeon whines, leaning back to prop their chin up on his chest, pouting as they make eye contact again. "Thought you liked it."
Swiss throws his head back and cackles, and Aeon can't help but laugh along.
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lewdimagines · 14 days
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𝓗𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐓 . . . 🐾 ( 18+ )
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pairings : kazutora x fem!reader
content . . breeding king, big d tora :(( , jealous sex, rough treatment, pet names, nip play, marking, choking, mean tora 🙁!! Praising
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this all started because kazutora couldnt help but to be clingy and attached to you.. his harsh thrust meeting with your ass as loud plapping sounds would echo the room, moans and mewls could be heard from your mouth as his lanky pale hands wrapped around your neck making you gasp as the flashlight from his phone would be shined onto your tight hole taking this thick cock, it hurted so good but so bad at the same time you hated when he was rough with you he knew that you could barely talk half of his cock you hated how easily he got jealous just because some lousy guy from some random store was cat calling you, your moans got louder and louder as each thrust went deeper into your velvet walls hitting your g-spot continuously.
you were in a new position now having your back facing him in a doggy position “ heh..ya like making me jealous kitten? Yea you like just pissing me the fuck off? “ his voice rang in your ears as the only thing you could do to respond to him was to let out a loud mewl and hiccups “ im talkin to you kitty. “ his whispers made you even more turned on its like he knew your body more than you did, his hands playing with your sensitive buds as if he was trying to milk you. “ uh..ugh~ y-you know i wouldnt do that to you kazzyy~ “ you mewled out as his thrust got rougher liking the way you promised him your love “ oh yea~? Tell me how much you..ngh love me momma “ he moaned out as his thrust got sloppier from your tightened up cunny, his sharp fangs biting into your neck making you met out a silent scream “ love you..love ya so much g’nna cumm~ “ he loved the way your moans would get scratchy from how much you screamed just from his cock only. “ wanna be a momma~? Bout time i filled you up and marked you with my seeds~ “ your legs started to shake violently as you squealed your orgasm hitting you harder than a bat “ NGH~ yes!! Make me a mommy! “ you said as he gripped on your waist holding you still as he spilt his cum into you.. maybe getting him jealous wasnt this bad.
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YALL THIS IS MY FIRST FIC SO PLS GIVE ME TIPS ☹️‼️‼️ REPOSTS ARE WANTED PLSS..
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littlebluespoon · 7 months
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Choices
Werewolf!Soap is here! Apologies for how long it took, I couldn't figure out how to end it.
2K words, tw: werewolves, cheesy romance books, chasing, kinda kidnapping, scaring, if there's any you think I've missed let me know
Look, I'm Scottish and I hate writing Scots and the accent, so you're just gonna have tae deal wi' it awright? 😅
There might eventually be a part 2, depends on if y'all like this part
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You couldn’t believe your luck when you found the rental listing. A two bedroom, guest house on 4 acres of land in the middle of the countryside. Your only neighbour being your landlord who lives in the main house but was away on deployment most of the year. It was like a dream come true for you. Plenty of privacy and space for you to write, beautiful views of the loch and there was even enough space for you to finally have an office space. The best part about it all though was your landlord, Johnny. When you first saw him you were scared, this massive hulking guy in the middle of nowhere and you. He made you feel small, and he had this aura around him, something you couldn’t quite understand but it made the hairs on your arms stand up. When you learned he was military, you figured that was it but the feeling never quite went away completely. He showed you around the place and the more you talked, the more he cracked jokes, the more you got to know him, the more charmed you were by him. Before the tour was even over you were asking him when you could move in. It was a dream come true for you and it was even better when Johnny was home. 
The house always seemed to wait for him to come back to break but that was alright with you, it meant you got to see him under your cupboards and up ladders fixing whatever went wrong. It certainly gave you plenty of material to write about. In the eight months you’d lived with Johnny you hadn’t stopped writing. Your publisher was ecstatic because you were churning out best seller after best seller all with Johnny as your muse. Seeing as you were using a pseudonym you were careful with the details you used to describe Johnny as well, knowing that he could be followed back to you but this time you just couldn’t help yourself. Your bestselling books were dark romances and taboo themes but your new one was your first about supernatural creatures. 
‘Loosely inspired by every vampire romance out there; Stain the head vampire of his coven seeks a mate. One day he comes across a young female who’s just perfect for him. But she’s not charmed by his rugged mohawk or his deep Scottish brogue. Just how will Stain win over his bonnie lass?’
The dark erotic scenes and the cliff-hanger ending almost guaranteed that it would be another best seller for S.P. Wraith. But what really sold the book was the concept art for Stain, you’d commissioned an artist and you had them draw a likeness as close to Johnny as you dared. Within weeks of publishing you had a contract for a series of books and art of Stain was everywhere.
___
“Hey sergeant! You got a modelling gig we don’t know about?” 
“Soap! Show us yer fangs!”
“Let’s see you sparkle Sergeant!”
Soap was confused and starting to get a little annoyed at all the comments the recruits had been shouting at him. He was used to banter and camaraderie between everyone but this felt almost mocking. As he walked into the 141’s meeting he noticed Gaz was waving a book around and reading from it aloud,
“’You don’t like my mohawk?’ Stain said, shocked at the admission from his little pet. ‘Why I thought it complimented my roguishness and charming smile’ he went on to sa.. Soap!” Noticing Soap’s entry Gaz struggled to hold in a laugh as Price looked at him in disappointment,
“You know son, if we’re not paying you enough I’m sure there’s other options before whatever this was,” Price says waving a hand towards the book but Soap knows he really wants to say ‘What the fuck Soap?’
“I didnae do it! I don’t even know what ye’s are talkin’ ‘bout!” Soap tries to defend himself while grabbing the book and reading the cover: ‘The Life of Stain, Volume 1; A Beating Heart by S.P Wraith’ and staring back at him was a drawing of his face, right down to the scars from his first transformation. Before Soap can respond Price takes pity on him and starts their meeting, the bear shifter easily grabbing the attention of the other team members.
Soap finished the book in record time, in fact it takes him longer to work out who had written it and once he does he kicks himself a little because it should have been obvious. His sweet little tenant who can’t keep their eyes off his arse whenever he’s over fixing up the guest house for you. For the rest of his deployment he can’t stop thinking about you. What he’d do to you, how you’d look wrapped up, naked in his sheets, covered in his marks, completely his. So he fantasises, he reads as much of your writing as he can get his hands on because it’s obvious to him that you’re writing out your own fantasies, waiting for someone, him, to come along and make them real. By the time he’s heading home he has a plan for how to make you his.
___
You’re cleaning your kitchen when you see his car drive up the long path between both your houses. Freezing behind your window, as if that would stop him noticing you, you watch as he hauls his bags out the boot and ambles his way through his front door. You don’t move until even his shadow is gone from your sight and once it is the only thing on your mind is dinner. 
It’s tradition now, the first night Johnny’s back from deployment you make dinner for both of you and carry it over to his house. It started after you realised he never had any food in the nights he comes back because he’s never sure if or when he’ll get back so you made it your mission to welcome him home with a good meal and if it let you be in his company for a while, well that was just a bonus. Tonight you made a spaghetti bolognaise, quick but tasty and headed over. Like every other night, you ate together, chatted long into the early hours and watched as he slowly relaxed his posture and got used to being home again. When it came time for you to head to bed he watches you go and says goodbye with a 
“I’ll be over in the morn’ to check that gutterin’ o’ yours,” 
It’s the hammering that wakes you the next morning, taking two cups of coffee out to the front you find him just finishing up,
‘Early start Johnny?” you ask, handing him the cup and giving him a once over.
“Aye, can’t sleep in even if I tried,” he gives you a nod in thanks for the coffee and continues, “Well, that’s yer gutterin’ fixed at least, Wraith” You watch the smirk on his face grow at the same rate your confusion does,
“Wraith? Is that some new nick…” Your face drops in horror and you pale, “you know?” His smirk turns into a full on belly laugh at the expression on your face,
“Did ye really ‘hink I’d never find oot?” He takes the cup out your hand and crowds you into the wall, “Ya know, lass, if you wanted some monster inspiration all ye had tae do was ask. I only bite sometimes.” With your back against the wall and his hand sliding up your neck, holding you in place, you’re transfixed as you watch his canines lengthen before his face changes shape and ears sprout from his head, 
“Ye git thirty seconds tae run lass,” a voice growls out, it could only be him but it doesn’t sound like the charming Scottish accent you’ve come to love.
His hands drop and he steps away so you can see everything. The tail, his clothes being ripped, the giant paws for hands, “30, 29, 28… run!” the screeching is what gets you moving as you bolt towards the forest in your back garden. You can still hear him counting as you dart between the trees and jump over logs, not daring to look back because you know that’s how you’ll fall. Catching glimpses of a shadow in your peripheral vision you decide your best action is to climb, aiming for the first tree you can feasible climb quickly you do so. Hauling yourself up into the branches and trying to remain as quiet as possible with a hand over your mouth to quiet your heavy, panicked breathing.
The panicked breathing turns into full on sobs when you hear a loud howl, there are no wolves in this part of the country, no normal wolves that is. Hearing the sound of branches being snapped, you freeze in your hiding spot praying that he can’t see you but Johnny’s a werewolf, he’s never needed to see to know where you are. All you can do is sit there and watch as a giant, black wolf stalks around the base of the tree sniffing at the ground. The wolf circles the tree a few times before settling down at the base of it and looks directly up at you. It’s eyes, you notice, are oddly human. They’re still Johnny’s eyes.
For hours the two of you exist in this silent standoff. It’s not until the sun begins to set and the cold begins to make itself known that a move is made,
“Come oan lass, give it up. I dinnae want to drag you out the tree” Jolting awake at his voice your fear returns, “Lass, get down now.” There’s a bite to his words now, a command that you’re sure he uses on recruits, and it would have worked on you had your limbs not been frozen with fear.
‘Fine, dinnae say ye weren’t warned,” is the last thing he says to you before he walks away.
You’re shocked at this turn but you take the opportunity. Once you can’t hear him anymore you scramble out the tree and make a dash for your home. If you can just get to your car. Get to the car. Car. It’s all that’s on your mind, your car is synonymous with safety now. But you barely make it three feet from the tree when the wolf returns. With a single pounce, you’re face down in the dirt, the wolf is on your back and the growling in your ear causes you to pass out in fear.
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It's the heat that wakes you up eventually, smothering like a weighted electric blanket. Completely unaware of where you are you go to try and take your pyjamas off only to find a furry weight pinning you down. It’s the fur that brings your memories back, Johnny knows about your writing, Johnny who turned into a wolf in front of you, Johnny who chased you through the woods. It startles you into alertness and you open your eyes to find a sleeping wolf on top of you.
Moving slower than a snail and as smoothly as you could manage with the full body shakes you’re battling, you manage to slide out from under him. Finding the door you get to it on shaky legs and are, reaching for the handle when a growl makes you freeze. You can hear his claws as they scrape across the ground, feel his teeth as he snags your shirt in them and his arms around your waist as he pulls your back against his chest,
“Yer no goin’ anywhere sweetheart. I’m no lettin’ ye” Johnny buries his face in your neck as he talks, muffling his last words.
“Johnny, I’m sorry. Okay, I’ll give you the money from the book, whatever you want,” you can’t decide whether to pull at his hands or push at his face, “I’ll find somewhere else to rent,” it’s something you’d hate to do but right now your life is more important.
“Leave? Lass, I ‘hink you’ve got the wrang end o’ the stick. Ah dinnae want ye tae leave, in fact imma gie ye a choice,” he pulls away from you, pushing you back against the door and caging you in between his arms, “I’ll even gie ye some time to ‘hink aboot it, awright. Ye can be my wife, and live happily with ev’ryhing ye ever want… or ye can be my pet, and this room will be the only thing ye ever see again.” The kiss that comes is surprising and gentle. He leaves you in a state of shock for a few seconds before grabbing a handful of your hair and dragging you across the room, “Just a little preview o’ yer options. Have a ‘hink, I’ll be back later sweetheart.” You’re too shocked to hear the door but what you do hear are the locks, three of them that signal no way out for you. All that’s left for you to do is sit in the dark and make your choice.
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What will your choice be?
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