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#i should get a tail .. and a collar
mvttslvt · 18 days
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ruff ruff υ´• ﻌ •`υ
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shotmrmiller · 4 months
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Simon is enthralled by you, John Price's cat. Oh, how beautiful you look on all fours, rubbing your face on his jeans. How lovely the mews that spill from your lips sound— music to his ears.
He grabs you by the hips to lift you onto his lap, mindful of your tail and brushes his covered nose against your cheeks. "Aren't you just precious?" Simon lifts his mask enough to expose his lips and nips the tip of your human ear. "I wonder if this pretty kitten has a pretty pussy, too," he softly says. Your half-lidded eyes look at John, who's chosen to be just a spectator tonight.
"You heard him, kitten. Show Simon what he's asking for." The bell in your collar clinks as you lift to turn yourself around in his lap, and he grabs your waist with his large hands to assist. "Careful, I don't want you falling off and getting hurt." Simon extends his long, thick legs which gives you a bit more space to work with.
Keeping your knees together, you place your bare, dainty feet on each shoulder, and with a trembling exhale, your knees drop open.
Simon intakes a sharp breath through his teeth at the sight of your glistening cunt spread open— a flower in full bloom. The grip on your waist tightens to what should be considered pain, but to you is just acute pleasure.
"She's a fuckin' sight, sir," he admires without looking up. He drags a blazing trail with his fingers from your waist to your mons, pad of his thumb hovering over your swollen, slippery clit. "I'm curious, though, kitten," You look at him, cheeks flushed, and answer him with a tiny little mewl. "I'm curious if you'll purr for me, too," and draws agonizingly slow circles, that is exactly what you want, yet not enough. The whimpers slithering out of your throat make his cock achingly hard, and if you turned around, you'd see a sizeable tent in John's trousers too.
John's voice is thick with arousal as he says, "She likes it when you let saliva dribble from your mouth onto her pussy, isn't that right, kitten?"
You bob your head, mouth open, a bit of drool at the corner of your mouth. Simon's touch is magical. You've got liquid fire in your veins, every precise circle rubbed onto your nub tightens that coil in your lower stomach, and when he spits onto your pussy, the warm glob of spit that lands directly on your clit almost has you coming from it alone.
Simon notices how your hips start moving on their own, picking up speed, forcing more friction on your clit when he stops touching you, removing all stimulation. The keen you let out is primal, a high-pitched whine. "Oh, I know, I know," he coos at you, "I just gotta ask your owner for permission, s'all."
He tips his head to the side, looking over your shoulder, and nods. John must've agreed to whatever he's thinking because Simon's dark eyes gleam as they meet yours, a feral, toothy smile on his lips.
Simon taps your hips lightly and orders, "Hips up." Your feet lower from his shoulders to flatten on the couch— thighs spread wide from how broad, how wide his body is. Your hands rest on his knees behind you, and you rest your weight on them to lift up. Simon lets out a snarl and completely hooks your knees over his shoulders forcing your arms to give way. Your head lolls on his thighs, upper body almost completely upside down, and his hands cup your arsecheeks—mindful of the tail— and raise. What—
His warm, wet tongue licks through puffy lips, and flicks at your clit. The arousal that had waned comes back, and it comes back harder, faster, more intense. He's eating you like you're his last meal, and now you definitely sound like a cat, albeit a dying one.
Simon gives your bud a suck and your neck cranes back at the sensation, and that's how you see John, upside down, leaning back, one arm on the backrest holding his drink— the other stroking his cock through his trousers. He looks—
A sharp slap to your arse has your spine curling, legs tightening around Simon's half-covered face, stubble prickling into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. "Eyes on me, kitten."
Your spine curves and you realize that you can see Simon, his dark eyes locked onto yours, and that he can see you. You wanted to care about the unflattering angle he's got you in, but it all melts away when his mouth opens wide to lick a stripe from your hole to your clit, and his lip is curled on one side, so you can see his unnecessarily pointy canine.
Once Simon realizes he's got your full attention, he eats. Unrelenting as he chases your climax like it was his own. The pulse of your heartbeat is deafening in your ears, your vision darkens as he forcibly drags you to your finish line, and with one final lap at your stiff bud, he tugs on your tail, and you burst.
Mind-numbing pleasure sweeps through your body, wave after wave of ecstasy crashing into you, prickling at your nerve endings, leaving you a shaky, slobbering mess on his thighs.
Simon doesn't even give you a moment, doesn't grant you reprieve because, within seconds, he's manhandling you and sinking you down onto his massive cock, spearing you in half, stretching your soaked channel to its absolute limit. It burns, it stings and yet the only thing that comes out of your mouth is an airy moan.
"Atta girl. Your pussy's suckin' me in like it wants to keep me in it forever," and his head tips back as he groans, "You're squeezing me so tight, m'not gonna last."
John's gruff voice comes from behind you, commanding. "Then don't, Simon. Fill her up."
Simon's answering smile is, honestly, a bit scary. He looks like the predator he becomes on the battlefield, the one who snuffs out life like a fire on a candle wick. Vicious, cruel, ruthless.
"Yes, sir."
He spreads his thighs, feet flat on the floor, and picks you up with his forearms, only to bring you back down on his cock. Impaling you. The tip of his cock is hitting so deep, you vaguely wonder if the flared head is being pinched by the tiny hole of your cervix. He's destroying you, but at no point in time does it ever turn into physical pain. Simon is using you like a pocket pussy, yet is angling your hips to hit your sweet spot. And oh so sweet it is, because it takes you exactly seven (7) thrusts of his hips to make you come around him, frothy, milky essence coating his cock.
"Fuckin' hell, pet. Fuckfuckfuckfu—" and he brings you down harshly, grinding his hips up, as he shoots rope after thick rope of cum into you.
Simon's exposed chin is dripping sweat, as he pants harshly in front of you, trying to catch his breath. Your body begins to slump tiredly when you feel your tail being caressed, beard scratching your neck as John peppers your damp neck with kisses.
"It's my turn now, isn't it." The bell on your collar chimes as John pulls you to kneel on the floor, face pressed in near Simon's softening member. Faintly, a zipper opens, and the swollen, long length of John's cock pushes into you, pushing out Simon's cum, dripping down your abused cunt to make space for him.
"Mewl for me, kitten," and grabs you by the hair, craning your neck to look up at Simon, who's gazing down at you with heavy-lidded eyes. He curls two fingers underneath your collar, restricting your breathing, and says, "Go on. Let us hear you."
what a delightful day to be John Price's cat
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the-travelling-witch · 3 months
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𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒
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summary: having your period is already stressful enough and being in a magical all-boys school doesn't make it any better; luckily, your boyfriend is here to help
pairings: leona :: jade :: jamil x gn!reader
warnings: period comfort; mentions of periods and different symptoms (but gn pronouns), mentions of reader having hair in jade's part
twisted wonderland masterlist || similar writing: bloody hell [obey me]
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𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑
It was decidedly too early for this.
You rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you walked through the hallways, head down to keep from making eye contact with the beastmen staring at you as you passed them. After tossing and turning all night, kept from finding sleep by painful cramps, being ogled at by students at an all boys school that could smell the blood on you was the last thing you needed.
And it wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to avoid this. When you had realised the predicament you would inevitably find yourself in, you had downright begged Crowley to let you stay at Ramshackle. After all, a certain Ignihyde dorm leader also never attended class in person. But, really, you should have known better. As if the headmage would let his number one therapist stay home for a few days each month or as he put it, he 'couldn’t rob a precious student like yourself of the opportunity to learn'.
At least Sam was an actual help and had magically procured just the stuff you needed.
So, with heavy eyes and burning cheeks you speed walked towards your first class of the day, dodging students at the last second on more than one occasion until you eventually ran straight into a sturdy chest. Looking up briefly to apologise, you blinked at the familiar emerald eyes sizing you up.
“Leona! What are you doing here?” Most people’s first reaction to seeing their boyfriend would probably not be bewilderment, but running into your boyfriend inside the school during class hours was as likely as Ace making it through a week without being collared by his housewarden.
“That’s funny, ‘cause I was about to ask you the same thing,” the lion drawled, ears flicking to help convey the incredulousness painted on his face. “So, what do you think you’re doing?”
As imposing as he was with his athletic build and the unimpressed expression, causing the students around you to serve around the two of you, you weren’t affected at all, used to his grumpy exterior.
“Uhm, going to class?” You deadpanned, putting your hand on your hip to mirror his stance. “Unlike someone else I know.”
“Yeah, you’re not doing that,” Leona stated matter of factly.
“Excuse you?” When he tried pulling you along by your arm, away from the direction of your classroom, you dug your heels into the ground. “I hate to sound like a broken record but what are you doing, Leona?”
“Making you get some rest, obviously.” You couldn’t see it from where you stood but you could practically hear the way he rolled his eyes. 
“Listen I can’t just skip class, I talked to the headmage–”
“Crowley can solve his own problems for a day,” his voice rumbled low in his throat, almost sounding like a growl, “you know, like an actual adult. And don’t try to play dumb with me herbivore, it’s not a good look on you. I know you sleep like shit when you get your period and I also know that the people around you don’t take your health into account when they get up to some stupid idea.”
“Yeah but-”
You saw the annoyed flick of his tail before he turned around and braced his hands on your shoulders without ever applying any pressure. By now the last bell had rang and the corridor was deserted, leaving you to be the only people standing in the early morning light.
“Don’t give me this self-sacrificial nonsense,” Leona said, words harsh but you knew him well enough to read the protective feeling behind them. “We both know you need to rest. What good would it really do you to go to class in this state?”
As if to agree with him, a nasty cramp pulled at your lower stomach and the ill suppressed grimace on your face must have been all too apparent to your boyfriend. Giving your arm another light tug, Leona coaxed you towards the Hall of Mirrors again with a tempting ‘C’mon’ and this time you let him pull you along willingly, even handing him your backpack when he reached out for it.
Sometimes, it was hard to forget the kind of culture Leona grew up in, one where women held a high position of power in general, so really you shouldn’t be surprised by how… normal he was about all of this. Part of that was probably also because it was a very gentlemanly excuse to skip class in favour of a nap, if you were honest.
“If you’re that worried about missing class, Jack can give you his notes.” His offhand comment made you snort. Of course, he would offer someone else’s service to you before anything else.
“Or my third-year boyfriend could tutor me,” you teased, a playful lilt swinging in your voice.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” the lion shrugged. “Weren’t you just on my case about my attendance record?”
“Because the first-year curriculum is just too hard for someone who can turn an entire stadium into dust,” you jabbed.
“You’re yapping a lot for someone who’s this tired,” Leona grumbled, a large palm pushing your head down, careful not to hurt you. With a giggle you decided to drop the topic. 
Crossing the Hall of Mirrors and stepping through the Savanclaw portal, you were greeted by the  warm breeze of dry air typical for the dorm’s daytime. After the trek through the savanna past the spring in the common room and across the wooden bridges, you reached Leona’s room and you could already feel the tension seep from your body as you stepped into its comfortable familiarity. 
When you unbuttoned your uniform’s blazer, you caught a glimpse of your stomach through your shirt, slightly extended further than usual due to the bloating. And rationally you knew it was a normal bodily reaction to your period but paired with the new bumps on your face and general exhaustion, logic wasn’t quite enough to calm your mind.
The clothes being plopped down on your head, however, certainly did rip you from your thoughts. Lifting the ends of the black material covering your eyes you threw your boyfriend a questioning glare.
“I can tell you’re thinking something stupid,” Leona offered as an explanation. “Just get changed and come to bed.”
Huffing under your breath, you stepped into his ensuite bathroom to do as he said, pulling on your boyfriend’s shirt and sweatpants. While you didn’t feel like agreeing with him quite yet, you had to admit, royal loungewear was a league of its own in comfort. And probably in price.
When you emerged, Leona had just tossed his phone on the nightstand before devoting all his attention to you. The ears on his head flicked as his gaze wandered from your head to toe and back up, a grin tugging at his lips and an appreciative glint in his green eyes. 
Then, the second you came within reach, he’d already wrapped you in his strong arms and pulled you into bed with him, not without a surprised squeal from you. You could feel his deep chuckle as much as you heard it with your head resting on his chest and resigned yourself to merely sighing fondly. 
With two firm hands stroking up and down the length of your back purposefully, their warmth spreading through your body, and his chest rising rhythmically underneath you, you finally allowed yourself to relax as you traced random patterns onto his biceps and pectorals and followed the movement with heavy-lidded eyes.
“You weren’t seriously looking down on yourself earlier, were you?” Leona mumbled, a serious care in his words he didn’t offer many people. 
“Well, you can’t really help it when your body goes through this many changes, can you?” you drowsily replied, your eyes already falling closed with no conscious work of your own. “Besides, periods are not the time you feel generally great about yourself.”
“No matter how you might see yourself, I don’t want you to doubt for even a second that I like you the way you are.” At his heartfelt confession, you peeked one eye open to study his expression.
“You can be quite the romantic if you want to huh?” You meekly chuckled, not able to help yourself.
“Go to sleep, herbivore, you’re talking crazy.” Even as he put one of his hands on the back of your head to keep you cradled against him, you didn’t miss how his ears flicked or the fondness with which he looked down on you.
“Alright, alright. I appreciate it though, really.” With a big yawn you shifted to get comfortable, your cramps far from your mind as you sunk into your boyfriend’s natural warmth. “Love you.”
By the time you’d wake up, Ruggie would have dropped off lunch along with some other essential items. But for now, Leona was content to watch as your breath evened out and your chest rose and fell in the rhythm of his own, careful not to disturb you when he draped a soft blanket over you. With the rising sun peeking through the arches of his room, he truthfully answered you in a whisper. 
“Love you, too.”
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𝐉𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐂𝐇
Once Jade had taken an interest in you, he would seemingly appear out of thin air in your general vicinity a lot more often than it was usual to run into a fellow student. On your way to the school store, in line at the cafeteria or when you were carrying supplies for Professor Crewel, the moray would coincidentally round a corner to lend a hand.
So it really shouldn’t have come as a surprise that, as his courting became more serious and you had become aware of what was going on, even reciprocating the sentiment, you found the sophomore waiting for you before your classes started. Your time table was well-memorised so he could greet you with a serene smile each day and walk you to your first class of the morning.
Now, as a moray eel with naturally sharp senses, it was somewhat inevitable he’d pick up on the scent of blood once your period rolled around. In contrast to beastmen who were mostly mammals in their anatomy, however, the Octatrio did not grow up on land and periods weren’t exactly a thing for merfolk. Moreover, seeing as they had only been on land for roughly two years and were attending an all-boys school, it was not a phenomenon they were likely to run into.
So, having his dear pearl approach one morning, the smell of iron heavy in the air, paired with their already soured mood and his lack of knowledge on the societal stigma around the topic, misunderstandings were bound to happen.
“I really don’t think it wise to attend class in your state,” the moray had stated after greeting you, an eyebrow raised at your stubbornness to continue with your day even at what, in his mind, must have been a grave injury. 
“I’m fine, Jade, I just want to get this day over with,” you had groaned, trying to push past the tall student and drop the topic, embarrassed enough that a sizable chunk of the student body would be aware of your predicament in the first place.
But who would he be to let a person he actually cared about go on their way with a bleeding wound? 
“Prefect, I must insist you seek medical aid immediately.” You remembered the uncharacteristically genuine furrow of his brows as he had blocked your path. “Please, go to the school nurse or at least let me tend to your needs. I’m certain I could be of help if you share your problem with me.”
“If you want to hear me say it so desperately,” you had huffed, “I’m on my period. Happy now?”
“Your period?” Jade had echoed with wide eyes, unknowingly speeding up the burning of your shortened fuse with his lack of knowledge. “Yes, I’m aware we are to attend class but I fail to see–”
“Very funny,” you had deadpanned, pushing past him with a cold shoulder and leaving the moray to his own confusion. “Now if you excuse me, I have better things to do than stand here and humour your feigned ignorance today.”
Yes it wasn’t your proudest moment, you’d admit that. And when Jade approached you later that day with a genuine apology, explaining how he had researched the topic and was deeply ashamed of his uninformed remarks, you felt like the worst person on the planet and apologised more than he had. So in the end, you came to an apology truce, where you noted he shouldn’t have prodded further when you didn’t want to talk about it and you shouldn’t have exploded on him like you did.
Since the incident, however, Jade had been a dream to have around. Not to fall short again, he had done a fair amount of research, both on the biological aspect of what was happening to your body but also on the lived experience and its numerous complications. Then, doing what he did best, he observed your reactions, moods and symptoms to better cater to you specifically.
Every month he put both his cooking and alchemy skills to good use, whipping up whatever meal you desired and brewing a painkilling potion with just the right dosage for your current situation. Being Jade Leech, he could also assert his presence in any given situation with as little as a simple glare if you did not want to be bothered.
Your favourite part of the comfortable rhythm you two had fallen in, however, were the evenings where Grim was otherwise engaged and you had Ramshackle to yourselves. On those nights, soft music and fond laughter would mix with hushed whispers spilling from under your bathroom door.
A few months prior, Azul and Jade had sat down for a ‘pleasant chat’ with the Headmaster concerning the state of Ramshackle dorm and soon thereafter, funding had been provided to remodel vital parts of the dorm. No more caved-in roofs or stairs giving away under people’s shoes. Together with the money from the VDC, the old house had finally started feeling like an actual home; one you felt welcome and comfortable in.
It also meant you finally trusted your new bathtub enough to sit in it and actually also relax without any anxieties of whatever you could possibly contract from the exposure. 
With his natural fondness of water, it hadn’t taken long for Jade to propose the idea of shared baths and you hadn’t regretted your decision to agree since. It wasn’t like he gave you any reason to either; it was the opposite, really. It didn’t take the moray long at all to figure out the perfect temperature or what fragrance you preferred, if any. 
He also never made you feel inadequate or like you had to be ashamed of yourself, even when your body went through change throughout your cycle. Your skin tingled from his featherlight touches where his fingers traced your curves, never hiding the fact that he appreciated what he saw but always pairing it with a reverence that made you feel loved and desired, rather than ogled at. So when you sank into the water after him, cosying into his space to lean back against his chest, it was like sinking into a warm, secure embrace.
The water helped soothe your aches and washed away the tension which had built over the day and the easily flowing conversation with Jade let you focus on anything other than the thoughts in your mind, listening to his rich voice rather than the doubts trying to crawl to the surface.
When his hands massaged the shampoo into your hair, you always teetered on the edge of falling asleep right then and there. The atmosphere paired with his skilled fingers applying just the right amount of pressure as his nails gently scraped over your scalp banished any headaches you could have had and had you practically melting against him, a sight that tugged on his heartstrings more than it should have. But to see you put so much trust in him, someone who wasn’t exactly known for his benevolence, it stirred something fond in his heart and it made him want to work harder so you would keep showing him this blissful expression.
After scrubbing your bodies down, paying special attention to any sore spots, he helped you out of the tub, never failing to comment on how wrinkly your hands had gotten in comparison to his, which didn’t seem to be affected by the water exposure at all. Wrapping you up in a fluffy black towel he claimed was from Octavinelle -though you were fairly certain you’d only ever seen pale lilac ones there- he padded you dry and helped you into your clothes, mindful of the routines and products you had shown him previously. 
Needless to say, you felt like a new person each time without fail as you lay snuggled up with your boyfriend in bed later on, listening to his breathing and the steady beating of his heart. 
“Thank you so much for always doing this much for me, Jade,” you said, earnest gratitude and unspoken adoration lining your voice. “I’m really lucky to be with you, huh?”
“On the contrary, I am the one luck seems to favour seeing how you chose to be with me,” he chuckled and you didn’t miss how his strong arms pulled you closer against him even if it wasn’t physically possible. He’d be damned if he didn’t try. “And you needn’t feel conflicted about receiving my affection. Just know I enjoy doing these things for you and with you, pearl.” 
“I stand by my earlier statement,” you smiled, making him laugh along with you. Looking into his heterochromic eyes, you traced the contours of his face with the same delicacy he showed you earlier. “Is it selfish to say that I feel happy about having this side of you all to myself?”
“Not at all. It is reserved for you only, dearest.” His gaze was heavy on yours as he loosely curled his fingers around your wrist and pressed a searing kiss against your palm. “After all, I do not intend to share this side of you with anyone else either.”
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𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋 𝐕𝐈𝐏𝐄𝐑
There have certainly been times where Jamil lamented having to basically babysit his dorm leader. Well, pretty much all the time. But being unable to stay by your side while you were hurting was generally one of the most annoying parts of his duties to him, especially with the daily workload of being a student on top of it all. 
Jamil being Jamil, however, he soon worked out a schedule consistent enough to let him visit you somewhat frequently. 
You were lying on one of Ramshackle’s rickety couches, nursing your lower stomach with a -at this point already lukewarm- water bottle, when a familiar knocking pattern brought a smile to your face.
“Come in! It’s open,” you shouted across the hall, adding your sarcastic comment under your breath in order not to worry your boyfriend more than he already was. “Not like the lock’s ever doing its job in this place.”
“Hm? Did you say something?” Jamil made his way straight over to where you were sitting, his footsteps quieting down as he reached the carpeted floor.
“No,” you shook your head, smiling up at him as he leant over the back of the couch. Ignoring his raised eyebrow, you reached up, so you could cradle his cheek as you sat up to meet him for a sweet kiss. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.” Seemingly appeased, your boyfriend mirrored your fond expression, tracing your face with his grey gaze while his hands moved to your shoulders, deft fingers working out any tension you might be having. “How are you feeling?”
“A lot better now that you’re here,” you laughed, though it wasn’t merely a sappy joke, as indicated by Jamil’s scoff behind you. “I mean it though. I’ve been feeling a lot better since I’ve been receiving your royal treatment.”
“It’s nothing that fancy,” Jamil assured, his eyes softening at the way you melted into his touch. “I’m just trying to take care of you.”
“I know you don’t think much of it but I really appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule to look after me when I’m not even facing anything out of the ordinary,” you sighed, rehashing points you had raised in vain before.
“Oh hush,” your boyfriend playfully shushed you the way he had also done many times already when the topic came up. “Compared to what I usually deal with, this is like taking a vacation, especially since I get to spend time with you. Now speaking of my normal chores, I brought some leftover food.”
“Have I told you that I love you?” You swooned, causing both of you to laugh as Jamil headed over to your kitchen, one he was already familiar with. Not only because he often came over for some much needed peace and quiet but because Kalim was literally the reason you had it in the first place. A relationship-warming-gift of sorts for a relationship that wasn’t even his.
Besides, ever since courting and dating you, Jamil’s measuring skills when it came to meal prep seemed to have worsened because -coincidentally- he’d ended up with too much food and subsequent leftovers so often, you wondered why you even stocked your own fridge anymore.
What you had also noticed though was that, whenever you were on your period -something he seemed to track himself-, the food he brought over was a lot less spicy than usual and rather light. Something someone prone to a sensitive stomach, nausea, reduced appetite or a disturbed metabolism could still comfortably eat. 
The phenomenon of suddenly appearing sticky notes had also made itself known, labelling new containers in your fridge, medication on the counter or your coffee machine with reminders like ‘Remember caffeine makes your cramps worse’ written on it in neat handwriting. 
One or the other bar of dark chocolate and some of your favourite snacks had mysteriously found their way into your bags or onto a bowl in your kitchen as well though, making you smile at Jamil’s thoughtfulness when you caught a peek of them. 
During the day, whenever his schedule allowed it, he’d also drop by to check in on you between classes or during lunch, something Kalim wholeheartedly supported. Normally, Jamil refused all of Kalim’s offers to take a break from his duty but when you were feeling under the weather, he took the white-haired student up on it when no imminent disaster was on the horizon waiting to happen.
When your plate was empty and made its trip to the sink, Jamil refilled your hot water bottle but unlike you earlier, he waved his magic pen over it, which you had realised significantly expanded the time in which the water actually stayed hot.
“Thank you,” you said for possibly the millionth time as you took the bottle from him, then gave him a mischievous grin. “You know what would make me feel soo much better though?”
At the tilt of his head, you scooted over to make space between you and the back of the couch. Getting the hint, Jamil settled in behind you and you got comfy again with your back to his chest. This too had become somewhat of a ritual of yours, one that wasn’t limited to while you were suffering from cramps. 
After all the chore-y part of the late afternoon was taken care of, you liked to spend the evening snuggled up on your couch with the TV playing some show you liked to watch together, read: a show which you started and dragged Jamil into. Well, every now and then your boyfriend also made sure you didn’t fall behind on your studies, though he was more lenient when you were on your period.
“This is nice,” you mumbled, your eyelids heavy now that you had eaten and were surrounded by warmth and your loving boyfriend, whose hands stroked along your sides in a soothing, continuous motion, his chest vibrating underneath you with his affirming hum. 
“I could stay like that forever,” he agreed.
“Well I certainly wouldn’t mind.”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t.” The smile in his voice was auditory even if you couldn’t see his gorgeous face. You could, however, feel his soft lips on the crown of your head and his breath fanning over it and you reached to intertwine one of your hands with his before a yawn you couldn’t suppress any longer filled the air. “You should get some rest, I’m sure you’re tired.”
“But I wanna stay with you longer,” you protested, sleep clouding your tone. 
“Don’t worry, I will be here when you wake up,” Jamil promised. And with that you drifted off, the warmth from around you settling cosily around your heart. A heart that wasn’t really yours alone anymore.
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v3lvieraven · 3 months
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𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐳𝐞
(Riddle, Floyd, Leona, Malleus, Lillia)
Synopsis- reader tends to give really big and tight squeezes similar to Floyd whenever they hug/cuddle/get excited
Warnings- cursing, mood swings (Floyd), accidentally pushing away (riddle)
𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞
•he collared you for the first time
•this didn’t really do shit though considering you have zero magic.
•takes him a second to realize then un-collars you!
•After a few times of him lying through his teeth about not liking it, you figured you should stop.
•But those squeeze times had found their way into his schedule, literally.
•so when you stop squeezing him it messes his schedule up! Which is absolutely unacceptable.
•usually he wouldn’t straight up tell you his feelings but his poor poor organized schedule was falling apart! And all because you stopped the squeezing.
•“Why aren’t you doing the squeeze thing anymore?”
•You opened your mouth to answer but seeing his unusually upset expression you kept it shut
•With a shake of your head you bring him into your arms with a big squeeze.
•”Awww you like my squeezes!”
•”shh… you have three hours to make up to me”
•that meaning he made you squeeze him in bed for three hours (after his already busy schedule)
𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐝
•he fell in love the moment you squeezed him.
•obviously it wasn’t as tight as he does it.
•but he still loves it nonetheless!
•he definitely pouts whenever you arnt squeezing him. Which makes it very inconvenient for Jade and you.
•he’s very clingy though, but if he saw you squeeze someone else, even if it was in a friend way. He gets so jealous!
•when you went to give him a squeeze a few hours after he saw it, he probably would yell at you.
•He has really bad mood swings so it’s not surprising but it didn’t hurt any less.
•depending on your personality this could go two ways-
•first way: you give him space
•he would be more aggressive towards everyone at first.
•Azul and Jade had begged you to calm him down but you stood your ground.
•not wanting to cross his boundaries.
•but after he gets his anger out one way or another, he realizes he royally fucked up.
•Definitely starts crying and finds you, drags you into a bed, and squeezes you. VERY HARD.
•ends in you either passing out or he falls asleep.
•second way: you wait like thirty minutes and give him another squeeze
•after about thirty minutes he should have probably calmed down
•other than his pout and occasional muttering he is actually holding onto you for dear life.
•both ways he bites you tho.
𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚
•HE IS LOVIN IT
•When you found him in the botanical garden asleep you thought this was the perfect time to cuddle with him
•momentarily forgetting about your habit
•it woke him up, he probably hisses at you, even when he realizes it’s you.
•Almost shoved you off until he notices that he really likes this.
•often orders Ruggie to escort you to him whenever he is in a bad mood or a squeeze mood.
•I’m gonna be honest I actually can’t imagine if he were to get mad at you for squeezing him, ironic considering his temper
•like Floyd he can and will bite you to get what he wants.
•he flops on top of you often and demands it with light insults.
•Maybe you should try squeezing him whenever he overblots that might work.
•soon finds out he can’t really sleep without the pressure around him.
•one night when you were on a small trip somewhere he couldn’t sleep, so he tried to squeeze himself with his tail.
𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐮𝐬
•craves it more than anything.
•please don’t stop. He will actually cry.
•he’s really touch staved, so whenever you show up and squeeze him, he returns the gesture
•thinks of it as a human way of expressing love
•which it is to you.
•he’s so adorable, you can’t understand why anyone is Afraid of him. Of course he can be scary but not to you
•He also cries when you do squeeze him, but out of happiness. So either way, if you do or don’t, he will still probably cry.
•Sebek scolds you a lot because you started this and now he often gets really mad and causes thunderstorms.
•sneaks into your dorm and kicks grim off the bed and onto the couch
•poor grim :(
•Sometimes when he’s had a particularly bad day and he needs to unwind he will come to you. Which usually ends up with him letting out some of his more dragon features.
•Not fully though, unless you are okay with him destroying a bit of your dorm house.
•overall he loves you dearly, wouldn’t trade this for anything at all.
•please keep going!
𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚
•he teases you all the time for it.
•the first time though he was genuinely surprised but wiped that expression off his face VERY quickly
•he sleeps upside down so sometimes he will ask you if you wanna stay upside down with him and do your thing
•most of the time your squeezing sessions will turn into play fight or tickle session instead
•he gets really giddy when it happens
•don’t be fooled though, he will threaten anyone you squeeze.
•also might curse them or something but you don’t need to know that!
•He’s smitten for you though, and even when it sometimes doesn’t feel like it because of his playful demeanor, he truly appreciates these moments with you
•might sometimes mutter things under his breath before he falls asleep in your arms.
• “don’t let me go..”
• “your squeezes are mine…”
•he means the second one in all seriousness though.
•this is one of the most vulnerable times when he is too sleepy to keep his silly facade
•not saying he isn’t silly naturally, but sometimes he covers up his problems with his cuteness or calm demeanor.
•He’s usually not as silly when he’s not with you, but again, sometimes he uses it to cover that he is hurting
•so please don’t call the things he is saying at the moment “silly” because he means them with his whole heart.
•just keep squeezing and reassuring him, and he will open up!
Note- totally not based off the fact I squeeze ppl when I hug/cuddle
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charliemwrites · 5 months
Text
Woof woof yall.
No content warnings
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You’re out in the woods one day, taking photos and going for a little hike. Stupid mental health walk or something; whatever, it’s a nice day and you’ve gotten some good shots. You’re just about to turn back when a huge brown and black wolf lopes out from a nearby thicket.
There aren’t any wolves in England though! Hunted to extinction - it’s why you feel safe bebopping around the forest alone in the daylight. So you see this big fuck-off sized “dog” and coo at the pretty puppy.
“Hello handsome boy, aren’t you just gorgeous! Will you come say hi?”
You do all the right things that you’re supposed to do with an unfamiliar dog but he just barges right through. Trots up to you, nose shoved into your crotch. You startle, bark a laugh, shove at his big stupid head.
“A little forward,” you tease, scratching under his chin, “but it’s better than biting.”
You feel all around his neck for a collar, but no luck. He must be someone’s though, huge blue eyes too intelligent and focused on your words. And his coat is so well maintained, glossy and shedded.
“Do you know how to… sit?”
An adorable head tilt, and the big dog settles onto his hind quarters.
“What a good boy!” you croon. “So smart!”
He licks at your palm and wrist as you scratch at him, huge tail thumping. A canine grin, tongue lolling out as he waits for your next command.
You hum.
“Well, guess we can check if you’re microchipped, huh? Or at least I can get you some water. See if someone recognizes you…”
You make a kissy noise at him. “Let’s go, big boy. Come.”
And to your delight, he falls into step with you. He weaves along the path ahead and behind, but always loops back to you, brushing against your thigh as if to reassure you he’s still there.
You hum as you walk, giggling when you see his ears twitch and swivel towards you. Tease that he should do better if he doesn’t like your version of Jolene.
You only cross paths with two other people on the walk, a pair of guys clearly out for a more serious hike. The dog plants himself between you and them, ears pinning back and a low growl erupting from his chest. You startle a bit, carefully burying your fingers around his scruff in case you need to grab him quickly.
“I’m guessing he doesn’t belong to either of you, then?” you ask.
One of the guys shakes his head. The other gives you an odd look. “He’s not yours?”
The dog barks, loud and rough. You shush him, explain the situation to the hikers. But the dog never stops rumbling and they quickly go on their way, keeping a wide berth.
You huff. “Don’t like men, huh?”
Poor thing. Maybe he was abandoned by a mean owner?
“S’alright, bud, I’ll be good to you.”
He follows you all the way back to your home. And when you open the door, shoulders right past you.
“Ah, shit,” you groan. “You weren’t supposed to come in!”
He gives you an almost betrayed look. You try not to huff in amusement.
“So help me, if you bring nasty things in this house I will shave you. Shave you. You’ll look so silly. Like an overgrown raw turkey.”
The dog turns, trots back to you. You didn’t realize just how big he is until he’s got his big paws on your shoulders. You blink, have to take a step back to brace against the weight of him. In his hind legs he’s taller than you. Really could pass for a pure bred wolf.
A big, rough tongue licks from your jaw to your forehead. You scrunch up your face but end up laying a kiss on his muzzle in return.
“Alright, you big nasty. Down you get.”
You shut and lock the door behind you, brushing leaves and dirt off.
“Okay, shower first,” you say aloud, already tugging off your clothes. “Then we’ll run into town, see if we can track down your family.”
You don’t mind the dog staring, unblinking, as you strip down right there, balling things up to avoid tracking a mess through the house. Nor do you mind him following you to the bathroom, though you do push at his snout when he licks the back of your knee. Just normal dog things, really. They don’t get people stuff like clothes or boundaries.
“Stay out of trouble, bud. I’ll be right out.”
As you wash up, you consider the merits of adopting. Only if you can’t find the dog’s actual family, that is. It’s lonely in your little house sometimes - and a bit spooky at night. A big, protective dog might be just the thing.
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rowarn · 9 days
Text
hybrid au part 3 - FINAL
other parts: one | two
cw: major character death, angst, happy ending tho, lack of communication, loving!kyle agenda, mentions of price finally
a/n: SO THAT'S IT. i hope it was worth the wait!!!! mwah!!!
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Kyle noticed the way your light dimmed the following days. He was at a loss, one day you're bouncing off the walls and filling every room with the sweet sound of your purrs and the next it's cold and quiet. 
He tried everything, bringing home fragrant, expensive food and snacks, toys, whatever he could find that he thought would make you smile again. But nothing seemed to work. 
When you spend the entire day curled up on the couch, blankly watching TV, he decided he had enough. 
The following day, he was hooking your collar around your neck and forcing you to go outside into the sunshine. 
Your eyes burned as you stepped out beneath the sun's blazing beams. Days spent indoors, sleeping most of the daytime hours away, had accustomed you to darkness. It was hot and you already wanted to go back inside but one pitiful look towards Kyle told you that you were not getting out of this easily.
So you hang your head and allow him to lead you down the sidewalk. The military housing area was surprisingly quiet, the only sound was a lawnmower somewhere nearby. 
Kyle was silent, content with keeping his hand on the small of your back, a kind, protective gesture to assure you that he was still there as you glared at the sidewalk. 
Before you knew it, the quietness of the neighborhood grew louder and louder until you were walking through the gate of the hybrid-park. 
You looked around, watching all the happy hybrids and owners running around and playing lighthearted rounds of soccer or football. Casting a glance to Kyle, he gives you a crooked, boyish smile. 
“What do you wanna do?” he asks, glancing around, “We can take a lap around the park if you'd like?” 
You shake your head, “Can we just sit?” 
“Sure, sweetheart,” he coos, nudging you in the direction of an empty bench. 
You both take a seat, and look out across the park. While the nights still got quite chilly, it was beautiful during the day - a soothing breeze that rustled the green leaves in the trees and clear blue skies that you could look at for hours. 
You hated to admit it but - Kyle was right. You were starting to feel better, like a weight was being lifted off your shoulders. Being cooped up in the house didn’t help anything, in fact it probably made things worse.
A hand patted your head and you looked over to see Kyle beaming, as if he could see the tension just melt off of you. 
“I'm going to get us something to drink,” he muttered as he stood up, “Lemonade okay with you?” 
You nod your head, fluffy ears bouncing atop your head as you do. Kyle has to resist the urge to reach out and pet them, forcing himself to turn around and find a drink stand to get the lemonade from.
You're staring off at a dog hybrid and a young boy playing a heated game of soccer when you hear your name being called. 
Your head whips around to see Johnny standing there, tail wagging and eyes wide in shock. It's obvious he ran all the way over to where you are from the way his shoulders heave up and down with his heavy panting. 
“I-” he clears his throat, thinking over what he wanted to say, “I've missed ye.” 
Your heart was pounding in your chest, making the blood rush in your ears, “Johnny…”
“Come home,” he says, desperate and breathless, “I miss ye and I want ye to come back.” 
“Simon doesn't want me, Johnny…” you mutter, feeling shame burn at your cheeks as you look down at your hands - nails neatly filed down by Kyle just a few days ago. 
“To hell with him!” he spits, “I want you back, isn't that enough?” 
Your frown deepens. His selfishness ignites irritation within you, tears pricking at the backs of your eyes. 
“Why?” you ask, voice breaking as the word slips past your lips, “Why should I have to live like that? Being hated while you get to be loved?” Johnny says your name but you cut him off before he can say anything else, “That's not fair, Johnny. I have Kyle now and he loves me! I'm happy with him.”
“Can't ye be happy with me too?” he asks, sad, teary eyes cutting right through your heart. 
“Of course I could Johnny but…” before you can continue there's a sharp call of the pup’s name and both of you freeze. 
Johnny looks over his shoulder to see Simon jogging up behind him, a fierce glare in his brown eyes. A rough, gloved hand grabs the back of the hybrid’s collar. 
“What the hell do you think you're doin’ runnin’ off like that?” Simon snaps, anger masking the clear worry he had experienced at his missing companion. 
“I was just…” Johnny’s eyes drift to you and that's when Simon acknowledges your existence. 
The sneer on his face is clear even through the mask and it makes you shrink in on yourself, ears flattened back. Even after all this time, the sting of his rejection remains strong and hurts just the same. 
“What’s a gutter rat like you doin’ here?” Simon snaps. 
It annoys him that you're always at the source of his problems with Johnny. Whenever the pup misbehaves, you're always there. A bad influence. Typical cat. 
You look at Johnny. He doesn’t meet your gaze, instead staring up at his owner with an apologetic expression. You want him to speak up. You want him to defend you, to tell Simon to be nice or to apologize or tell him what you mean to him. 
But Johnny just sighs, “Sorry, Si.” 
The lack of defense towards you in the face of Simon solidifies everything for you in that moment. You look down at your lap, the crack in your heart only aching and stinging more and more with every beat of silence that passes between the three of you. 
Something ice cold touches the back of your neck and you yelp, launching yourself off the bench and onto the ground. Laughter fills your ears and you turn to glare at Kyle who holds a large plastic cup of lemonade - the cold thing he’d just surprised you with. 
“Sorry, love!” he apologizes but the laughter shows he's anything but. 
Soap speaks up then, asking if Kyle knows you. Your owner’s brown eyes shine with pride as he affectionately ruffles your hair.
“Found them on the street and brought them home!” Kyle tells them, sounding much like a proud father, “Best decision of my life!”
Your cheeks burn at his praise, his kind, loving words remedy the painful stinging in your heart that had been brought on by your previous owner. You take the cup of lemonade when he offers it to you, taking a sip and cringing at the sour taste that hits your tongue – much to Kyle’s amusement.
“You guys are welcome to come over anytime,” Kyle says, smiling as he affectionately pets your ears, “I’m sure this cute kitten would love to have a friend to hang out with.”
“Yeah…maybe,” Simon mumbles, sending you a sidelong glance that was cold and empty – telling you everything you needed to know without saying it. Absolutely not.
You find that you don’t mind that much. The idea of never seeing Simon or his painfully hateful gaze was nice. But when you looked at Johnny, who was staring at you in despair – you find yourself mumbling in response, “Maybe someday.”
The hope in Johnny’s eyes seers into your mind, even long after you’ve parted ways and gone home for the day. 
The days pass in relative ease. The depressive rut you found yourself in melts away and Kyle is thrilled to see that you’ve returned to your bright, bubbly self. You greet him at the door when he walks in, sit and purr beside him while you both eat dinner together, curl up against his side and happily snooze the night away. 
It’s peaceful bliss.
But one evening, Kyle returns home and tosses his heavy duffle bag onto the floor with a thunk. You get up to greet him, stretching your arms high above your head before padding over to him with a sleepy smile on your face. Kyle opens his arms for you, letting you tuck yourself into his chest for a hug. A loud purr emanates from your chest that only seems to make Kyle’s shoulders drop.
“What’s the matter?” you ask when you catch a look at his face when he pulls away; brows furrowed and lips in a tight line.
“Just got some sad news, that’s all, lovie,” he mutters, patting your head before he moves into the kitchen to start preparing dinner.
“What news?” you ask, following after him, tail swishing nervously behind you. 
Did his parents pass away? Did a friend get hurt?
Kyle sets out some vegetables on the counter, hunting around for a knife before sighing, “You remember Simon and Johnny? We met them at the park the other day?”
You nod your head, “Of course.”
“There was an accident a couple days ago,” Kyle explains, slowly chopping up the celery on the cutting board, “Johnny got hit. He didn’t make it. Simon’s tore up about it.”
It feels like everything freezes right then and there for you. You no longer hear the chopping of the knife, no longer hear Kyle's voice or the sound of traffic outside on the street. All you can hear is the pounding in your ears and the sound of your own breathing.
Images flash behind your eyes in your grief. You can see Johnny’s boyish smile and his boisterous laugh emanating down the hallway. You can see him so clearly, wrapped around you as you snuggle and snooze together as the rain falls outside. You can hear the animated way he would tell you stories, waving his hands around and his tail thumping loudly on the floor.
You don’t even realize you’re crying until you feel a hand cup your cheek. You blink away the tears and Kyle’s face comes into view, worry etched onto it. 
“What is it, lovie? Why are you crying?” he asks, clearly concerned.
“Johnny’s dead?” you ask, voice broken and wobbly as you fight to talk through tears.
“Yeah, love,” Kyle coos, thumbing beneath your eyes to rub away some tears, “Why are you so upset?”
Everything tumbles from your lips then. You tell him about how you lived on the street, how your life changed the day you met a rambunctious pup who wouldn’t take no for an answer until he had himself a friend. You tell Kyle about how, even though Simon was awful to you, Johnny was a light in the dark and how much you adored him and how much he meant to you. You tell him how Simon threw you out like trash and how much it hurt and how much you missed Johnny despite everything. 
Kyle held you through it all, tucking you tenderly against his chest as you cried it all out.
“I had no idea, lovie,” he whispers into your hair, pressing sweet kisses to your forehead when your breathing becomes erratic. 
“I-I never got to settle things with him,” you wail, “He wanted me to come home and I-I couldn’t give him an answer.”
Kyle sighs, cupping the back of your head, rocking you back and forth until your cries quiet down to hiccuping sniffles, “It’ll be alright, sweetheart. Everything will be okay.”
Truthfully, he doesn’t know what else to say. He doesn't know how he can make this hurt go away or help you soothe the grief you’re experiencing. All he can do is hold you close and comfort you whenever you need.
This time, when Kyle notices how sad you are as the days pass, he doesn’t force you to leave the house or do anything. He just lets your sadness run its course, doing what he can to ease your burden by making your favorite dishes and letting you watch your favorite movies over and over again until he can practically recite them by heart.
There’s a knock at the door that startles the both of you one evening. Kyle’s on his feet in seconds, hand drifting towards the firearm he keeps nearby before he looks through the peephole on the door and relaxes. 
You peek over the back of the couch as he opens the door. Simon stands there. 
Although he is masked, you can practically see how worn down and utterly devastated he is. 
“What’s up?” Kyle asks, hand twitching to reach out for the older man but thinks better of it. “Do you need something?”
“I wanna talk to that one,” Simon nods in your direction, where you’re still peeking over the couch. 
Kyle turns to look at you over his shoulder, asking your consent. You think it over for a few seconds before you nod your head. Not like Simon would do anything with Kyle here. 
He steps aside to let the larger man enter and closes the door, giving an excuse about getting drinks before disappearing into the kitchen.
Simon’s heavy boots vibrate the floor as he takes a few large steps towards you. You scoot to the other side of the couch when he sits down, the couch bouncing with his added weight.
His hands are folded between his knees where he rests his elbows on them. His tattooed skin ripples and flexes as he nervously fidgets with his hands. 
“Johnny wanted you to come home,” he starts out, staring intently at the floor. You swear you can see tears beading at his lower lash line as he says his companions name, “So I’m here to see if you will.”
“You want me back?” you ask softly, anxiously pulling a pillow into your lap.
Simon nods, “It’s what Johnny wanted. He cared about you, loved you. You’re all I have left of him.”
You’re silent at that. 
Despite everything, your heart aches for Simon. He adored Johnny more than anything – even if he hated you, his love for the pup was palpable. You could see it in his face every time he saw Johnny, eyes scrunching up happily. Johnny was his world and now that world was gone and Simon was left with nothing but bitter emptiness and a void that he was desperate to fill. 
You found yourself opening your mouth, ready to agree – ready to be the one to soothe your ex-owners devastating hurt. But then you found yourself looking into the kitchen, to Kyle’s back. He was hunched over the counter, vigorously mixing something in a bowl and you realized that you didn’t want to leave him. 
Kyle was yours. Kyle was everything you could ever need or want. He wanted and loved you when you thought no one else would. He didn’t give up on you even when you were difficult and cold. He cared about you, thought about you every day. He gave you everything you wished for so desperately during your time living with Simon. 
“I can’t,” you find yourself whispering, tears filling your eyes at how much it hurt to turn Simon away, “I know Johnny would want me to be with you, to make sure you’re okay without him but…I love Kyle and I want to stay with him.”
“So that’s it then?” Simon asks, voice small and weaker than you’ve ever heard it before. You know there’s a crushing weight on his heart right now, knowing he will be going home alone to a painfully empty and cold house. 
“Yeah…” You whisper, unable to look up at him as he rises to his feet. 
Kyle comes out of the kitchen with a steaming bowl in his hands, asking Simon if he was okay as he passes by him to the front door. The larger man just grunts in response and opens the door. The quiet click of it closing is all you hear of his departure before the warm bowl is in your lap. 
It’s a bowl of broth that makes your mouth water. The fact Kyle had made it for your just because warmed your heart.
“Is everything okay?” he asks, sitting down next to you, arm tossed over the couch behind you, fingers mindlessly stroking over the fuzzy surface of your ear.
“He wanted me to go home with him,” you respond, taking a sip of the broth.
“You said no?” he asks. You catch the worry in his tone – like he was scared you were going to tell him you were leaving him soon.
But you nod and his body relaxes in relief, “He only wanted me back because I reminded him of Johnny. He didn’t really want me, just the image of Johnny.”
Kyle nods, leaning over to kiss your temple, “That man loved that pup. But I’m glad you’re here to stay.”
You look over at him from over the bowl of broth as you sip it, “Yeah?”
“I would have let you go if that’s what you really wanted but…” He looks a little sheepish as he continues, “It would have hurt to see you go, kitty. I meant it when I said adopting you was the best decision of my life.”
You place the bowl down on the coffee table before launching yourself into his arms. He grunts as your weight slams against him, knocking him back onto the couch as he laughs. His arms wrap around you in a bear hug, squeezing you so hard that your ribs ache but you don’t even think about trying to pull away.
Though you don’t say it, he knows that you’re his to keep and that you love him just as much as he loves you. He couldn’t imagine life without you now. 
BONUS: 
“I think my boss is gettin’ impatient to meet you, you know,” he mumbles in your shoulder.
“Your boss?” you ask, voice almost too quiet to hear over your loud purring.
“Yeah, the old man’s been dyin’ to meet the cute kitten I talk about all the time at work,” he explains.
“You talk about me?” you ask, peeking up shyly.
He grins, “All the time. I think everyone’s sick of my voice at this point. But the Captain's really been begging to come and meet you. I’ve been waiting for a good time to bring it up. He’s a bit of a lover so you’d have to put up with all the pets and hugs he has to offer.”
Your eyes shine in interest, “I want to meet him!”
Kyle chuckles, reaching up to pet one of your twitching ears, “I’ll make the call then and set up dinner.”
You were excited to meet a new person. You hoped he was as kind and gentle as Kyle was. And even though the idea of Simon sitting alone and hurt in his house with nothing but the memories of his best friend, you weren’t going to let that stop you from opening up new chapters in your own life. 
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do not repost on other websites, translate, or modify. reblogs welcome!
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Note
Maybe a blurb about the leclerc kids reaction of getting leo the puppy 💕
Note: I already had another request for this that was sent in first, so I tweaked this one a little! I hope it's okay 🫶
"Mama, can we give Leo food?", Hervé asked as Amélie carried the puppy around in her arms.
"He ate an hour ago, guys, he can't have too much food!", you reasoned, "but you can give him water if he wants to", you smiled, grabbing the dog bowl and filling it with water before you handed it to Thomas, "Careful with it, amour, okay?".
Since Leo joined your family, the kids had been the most doting to the little puppy, always playing with him and making sure he was happy.
"Can you believe they're so quiet when they're with him? Like, they're so gentle and worried and they barely fight", Charles whispered on your ear as you watched them play with Leo on the garden, the dachshund puppy following them, almost hopping cutely behind them and letting out little barks.
"Was this the secret all along? Getting a puppy?", you joked as you cuddled up to Charles, hugging his side.
"Mama! Papa! Leo just rolled over!", Thomas yelled, "Look at his tail, it keeps wagging!".
"That's because he's happy", Charles informed as the kids smiled.
"Are you happy in your new family, Leo? Oh, mama! We all having matching bracelets, we should make one for him too!", Amélie pointed out.
"I don't think that will be a good idea, Amélie - he could bite on it and swallow the beads", Hervé reasoned as he saw the little girl's shoulders slump.
"Why would you want to eat it, Leo? It's our family bracelet, papa has one, mama has one, we all have one, but you need to match us", she mused, "we can get him a little collar with the same colours!", she solved the issue, smiling happily at her idea.
(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)
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heartfullofleeches · 8 months
Text
Loser Catboy Streamer gets paid big bucks to promote the reopening of a fancy cafe by hosting a meet and greet for fans. They're insulted - offended the owners think they'd sell themself for some quick cash and demean themselves further by throwing on a maid dress for their pathetic simps, but a few more zeros helps them squeeze into the outfit a lot easier.
In the same venue where they're being smothered by fans and exchanging handshakes for entire life savings, an important business meeting takes place. Most of the table is annoyed that their peaceful spot had been overrun by some bad-mouthed stray and the folks who enable their ways, but the head of the table sees something different. They rise from their seat to address the commotion as the steamer harshly shoves a guest who'd grabbed their tail without permission out the booth they shared.
-
"Cat."
Fixing your skirt and hiding your tail beneath, posion sits on your tongue directed at the next person to bother you quickly swallow as you turn your eyes towards them. A chilling ran down your spine from their cold stare and physique to uphold their hardened look. Defined muscles salient through the binds of their tight suit, healing scars over the bones of their knuckles and fists. You will your terror into a smile as you shrink under their gaze.
"S-sorry if we were being too loud. The last customer pulled on my tail pretty hard and-
You flinch as they slam their hand down on the table - sliding a rolled wad of bills towards you.
"Come here...."
Eyeing them cautiously, you snatch the money as they sit in the booth inches from you. You scoot over, hairs on end as their large hand shuts the short distance bewteen you. You expect brute force to snap your neck like a twig as their fingers come into contact with your skin - curling upwards to scratch light at your chin. You purr softly - smile forming on their scarred lips.
"Good kitty. You're coming with me."
"But, my contract says I have to be here for another-"
The strangers places another stack of bills in your apron.
"I'll... go get my coat."
-
Where their underlings see a wild beast that should be locked in a cage, the boss sees a lost kitten in need. All that attention on them yet nobody's taking care of them properly telling by their diet and inability to groom themselves on a regular bases. The boss takes them in and handles these faults while catboy reader wonders what sort of hell they've gotten themselves into. They can't be too upset with frequent spa trips and fresh home-cooked meals, but sometimes they do miss being able to stuff garbage into their mouth. Living with their new "owner", they still stream everyday which their caretaker uses to monitor them while at work. They're given odd glances for watching a cat streamer stream video games in their position, but no one is brave enough to even whisper about their odd behavior.
Loser Catboy sometimes joins them at the office, sitting in their lap as any normal cat would. They absolutely hate wearing their collar, but diamonds do look amazing on them
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mochinomnoms · 4 months
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How do you think the beast-people and the Octavinelle trio will react to a person who's love language is biting them ? (I just want your opinion on the question, have a good day)
I talk about it a little here and here with reader on the receiving end, but in regard to them on the giving…
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Mating/pairing marks are fairly common amount beastmen, particularly the predators. The ones best known for their marks are wolf-beastmen, but almost any beastmen with sharp teeth are pleased with the idea of being bitten (aka: claimed) by their partner. So imagine Jack's surprise when you bring his hand, shyly laced with yours, up to your lips for a sweet kiss on his knuckles. Only to be startled, an uncharacteristically high-pitched yelp leaving his lips as you nipped at the tips of his fingers. Your loving gaze is cute, but not disarming in the least, as you take his fingers and teeth at them like a chew toy. It's with a deep, but pleased, flush and expression that Jack explains to you what biting insinuates between partners.
Ruggie, when you were teetering the line of friends and partners, liked to fluster you with soft, coy nips at your ears and neck, purring at your darken cheeks and shy glare. He was a shy flirt, hoping you'd get the hint and make the first move. Why it was such a spine tingling shock when you, at your wits end with him, decided to reciprocate with a bite into his cheek, he'll never know. Nowadays, Ruggie will happily let you drag him away to either of your rooms to cuddle and bite into his neck, leaving wet, red marks all over his neck and collar. Mr. Bucchi is on cloud nine, dazing off as you bicker with Leona at the door over who should most monopolize on Ruggie's precious time. Hint: it's almost always you, until Leona offers a pay bump in exchange that Ruggie finally gets the fuck up and do his Leona's chores.
Speaking of the lazy lion, Leona does so adore your bites. It's the one of the few PDA that he'll let you do, as it lets you two subtly mark you as each other's partners, but it's mostly because you get kinda pissy about it, and it's funny. You're not pissy about the biting itself, rather, you're massively annoyance that he's laughing at your attempts to mark him up as much as he can with his sharp canines. Your teeth are nowhere as sharp as his, yet you randomly decide to dig your teeth in his bicep and forearms, like Cheka when he was teething. The thought of it makes him bark in laughter, which only pushes you to gnaw on him further in spite, rather than affection. It becomes less funny when the thought of a mini-you with deep green eyes, teeny-tiny ears, and a flicking tail teething on his thumb flashes through his mind. Then he's abruptly yanking his arms back and telling you that he's going to take a nap by himself with a confused look and a thousand yard stare.
Between the Octavinelle trio, none of them have the same instinct to bite into their mate as the beastmen, though they know of some merfolk that do. No they, the twins especially, like to softly bite into your soft bits because such forms of affection signify the upmost trust in the deep. Likewise, only their family and closest loved ones can do the same, namely you. The twins are the most fond of your biting affections of the trio, particularly Floyd. He thinks it's soooooooo cute that you like to bite him! He can hardly feel a thing, your teeth are so dull and flat compared to his. You can't leave a matching mark like the one he's left in your thigh…it's still awfully cute that you'll meet his squeezes (soft just for you) with a bite to his chin. He's suddenly flooded with thoughts of shrimpys nomming on morays in the sea and is clenching tighter at your with coos and squeals of having a cute, personal cleaner shrimp. Happily, you'll meet his demands for more bites into his cheeks until his mood changes, and he decides he's bored and tired of letting you nom. Maybe he'll take a turn and nom on you instead!
Despite being more reserved, or pretends to at least, compared to his brother, Jade is also fond of wearing your bite marks around campus. He even dares to wear his pristine, neat uniform untied and unbuttoned, just so he can see your horrified expression as your classmates ask about where in the hell he got all those gnarly looking purple bruises hickies from. You refuse to leave any more marks on him after that, settling for soft nibbles on his cheeks and knuckles. That last for all of a week before Jade's giving you a (fake) teary-eyed pout, wondering why you aren't giving him affection anymore? No, he's not talking about kisses. No not hugs. Noooo not that either, get your mind out of the gutter, he's a respectable eel! No! Why aren't you biting him like you used to, all his bite marks have faded away and are barely visible now! He thought you loved him 😢. Jade only lets you bite him you know, because he trusts his sweet human… no one else other than his brother and parents get to bite him, and only you get the privilege to bite into such intimate parts. Don't you love him anymore? Oh! Woe is he who-oh? You'll bite him again? Yay~ Please do so right here, right at the base of his neck, he's verrry sensitive there, so please be gentle 😊.
Azul is oh so very tame compared to the eels, even compared to the other beastmen. Really, he doesn't get the appeal if he's being honest. The twins used to teeth on his arms when they were children as their baby teeth fell out to be replaced with their adult ones. He's tired of being a chew toy and taken to smacking the twins hard enough to bruise to prevent further chomps. Azul is, unfortunately, weak to you and your big pleading eyes, despite his protests and denial. He's quick, especially after a tiring day after classes and work to let you drag him into bed and curl into his side. He sighs in bliss as you press sweet peeks into his cheek, neck, and hair, up until he feels your teeth tug at his earlobe. A brief shiver and heat pooling in his stomach makes him gasp, before he huffs and rolls his eyes as he realizes that you've taken to just gently nibble on his ear. Azul grumbles, still happy though, as you affectionately pull at his ear, moving down to nip at his neck, then settling on gently biting on the softest part of his cheek. He supposes he can give you an exception, his sweet human. After all, you're so soft and sweet about it with him, no matter how drooly you get it's kinda cute, and he's greedy with all forms of your affection. Azul will let you, as long as you don't bite down too hard.
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bam-here · 1 year
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//Random Obey Me NSFW Headcanons// (Explicit)
Literally random horny headcanons. Should I add the other characters? Feedback is appreciated.
TW/Tags?: size kink, domination, anal, cum play, unprotected, roleplay/dress up, 3 way, and mention of collar and leash, female MC anatomy
Mammon likes to cum on your face and clean it off for you because he gets to look at your beautiful face and admire you covered in his seed
Asmo loves taking you from behind in front of mirrors. He loves watching how your facial expressions change as he pleasures you
When cuddling with Belphie, he likes to rub his dick against your thighs and ass to tease you
Levi now prefers anal because you let him cum in you and he loved watching it drip out of your hole
Lucifer is usually the one in charge, but you convinced him one time to wear a collar and leash. He secretly enjoyed it so much, he wears it sometimes when he jerks off
Beel likes to press down on your belly when he goes deep so you can feel all of him in you
When Satan needs to calm down you help him by giving him head as he reads. He loves it slow so he can feel your tongue
Diavolo is so big that he has to use toys on you to prep before putting it in. You both learned that the hard way and he felt so bad about it
Solomon uses his magic to enhnace your assests while fucking you
Barbatos likes playing with your chest and absolutely loves how much of a blushing mess you become when he gropes them and tells you how lovely you are
Simeon loves going down on you and hiding between your thighs, tasting your sweet privates
Mammon likes wearing jewelry while doing you, specially a necklace
Lucifer moans loudly mostly to let his brothers know you are with him
Yes, Asmo has both and he will absolutely over stimulate you until you're both covered in cum and sweat
Belphie likes grabbing your ass when he hugs you just to see you flustered
Levi makes you costumes to wear when you two role play with special access for him
You and Satan almost got caught by Lucifer going at it in the kitchen when you two were making dinner
Wthout fail, anytime you and Beel try to watch a movie and cuddle, you end up getting plowed from behind or bouncing on his lap. Weirdly enough beel still pays attention to the movie and tells you about it the next day
Barbatos will fuck you with his tail. Especially when you're so impatient and he has other things to do
Solomon sometimes invites Asmo to a 3 with you. So much in fact you guys all have a session at least once a month
Simeon loves when you ride him Specifically when you slowly grind and bounce on him while making out
Diavolo gets so busy with work that he doesn't see you for days on end and requests videos from you touching yourself
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lipglossanon · 12 days
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Shimmer
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Leon S. Kennedy x Fox Fem!reader <one shot>
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, very little world building, smut a plenty 😆, Leon POV, hybrid reader, teasing, flirting, kissing, dirty thoughts, dirty talk, nipple play, oral (f receiving), breeding kink, mommy kink, unprotected sex, creampies
not proofread ✌️ just a smutty hybrid au
title from Shimmer by Fuel
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Leon couldn’t believe his eyes. You wind around the trunk of a tree, bright eyes locked on him as a little smile hovers on your lips like a secret. He swallows, tracking your movement, tenebrous colored tail flickering in and out of the tree line. He didn’t know he’d see a pretty little fox this far out. 
Leon planned for his four day weekend to be a relaxing hike in the local mountains, camping for a night (maybe two), and then heading back home to veg out in front of the tv before the next work week starts. He’s been out here in the forest for a few hours now and finally found a place to bed down for the night when you appear. A gray fox isn’t as common as the red, but he’s heard people in town talk about the few that have been spotted out here in Arklay. 
Leon doesn’t consider himself a hardcore outdoorsman, but he at least knows enough about the local wildlife. The closer you get to his little campsite the more enraptured he becomes; you’re absolutely captivating. His fire crackles and keeps him warm despite the chill permeating the night air; he’s afraid to move once you take a graceful seat on the opposite side of his fire pit, flames highlighting the hollows of your face. 
“Hi,” you smile, sharp little fangs glinting at him. 
“H-hi,” he croaks, throat dry so he tries to clear it.
“Camping, hmm?” Your gaze lazily drifts to his tent and satchel before landing back on him. 
“Yeah, needed a break,” he shrugs, hands clasping together to give them something to do, “you live near here?”
“Now why would I tell a stranger where I live?” You laugh, a throaty sound that makes Leon’s blood run hot. 
A flush overtakes his cheeks, “Sorry, I-I’m just making small talk.”
You laugh again, tail shifting to drape across your lap, “You’re cute. What’s your name?”
“Leon. What’s yours?”
He listens as you answer but his eyes can’t stop darting between your perked ears and soft tail. 
“Do you want to pet me?” You grin, tail swishing back to your side. 
“What—no, I mean, maybe,” Leon’s sweating bullets, mesmerized by you but also terrified you might rip his throat out with your sharp little teeth.
Smiling even broader, you stand up and make your way to him, folding down into a crouch in front of him. This close up, Leon quickly takes in your facial features before noticing the small black collar wrapped around your neck; his eyes trace down the modest sundress to your bare legs and feet. 
“Aren’t you cold?” He murmurs, blue eyes roving back up to your curious gaze. 
“No,” you smile, “but I’ll be sure to let you know if I am.”
Leon blushes and you look delighted, kneeling closer to peer up at him. 
“You’re pretty far out for camping, little Leon,” you fingers graze over his jeans, sharp nails making his pulse race, “aren’t you scared you’ll run into some big scary animal?”
Swallowing, he shakes his head no, “I-I brought bear mace and I’m sticking to the game warden trails.”
He watches your head tilt as one of your ears flick back, listening to the dark forest behind you. 
“Hmmm, you should be safe enough then,” your smile returns and Leon feels your tail brush across his arm, “want to see how soft it is?”
With hands steadier than his heart, Leon carefully strokes over the soft fur. It’s more silver than grey with a streak of black that ends at tip of your tail. Some white highlights catch his eye as his hand softly glides down the length. 
“It’s lovely,” he murmurs, dazed eyes coming back up to lock on your bright ones. 
“Thank you, Leon,” you purr, flicking your tail away behind you, ears perking forward, “you’re no slouch yourself.”
You let your nails brush across his sandy blonde fringe before pulling away. Leon doesn’t know what it is but he’s so drawn to you that his defenses are completely down. So he makes no move to stop you when you drag those sharp claw tips across his scalp and down his neck. 
A low groan slips from his mouth and he jerks away, an embarrassed blush crawling up his neck. You laugh and inch closer, hands moving down to skate up his jean clad thighs before resting on his chest.  
“Little Leon,” you coo, “are you feeling flushed? You look red.”
“I’m,” he coughs, trying to cover up his nerves, “maybe I’m just too close to the fire.”
“Do you need help to your tent?” You hold his gaze, your little grin showing off an incisor, “don’t want you to pass out.”
Your fingers drum across his pecs and he has the intrusive thought of you ripping into his shirt to tease his nipples. Biting back another groan, he nods jerkily. 
“I should probably lay down,” he clumsily stands, watching as you easily stand next to him, hands hovering over his shoulders. 
“I’ll help,” you take his arm and guide him the few feet away over to his accommodations for the night.
Pulling back the flap, you help Leon ease down onto his knees so he can kick off his boots before placing them inside next to the opening. Before he can thank you, you crawl in next to him, tail brushing across him as you splay out on his sleeping bag. 
“Comfy,” you pat the space next to you, “come lay down, Leon.”
His cock twitches in interest and he quickly zips the tent closed; the light glow of the fire can still be seen through the mesh. Moving over to you, he copies you, lying on his side with his head propped against his arm.
“Figured you might like some company tonight,” your eyes drop down to his mouth, “don’t want you to feel scared.”
“Thank you,” he murmurs, pulse thundering in his neck as you shift closer, legs tangling with his. 
“Maybe,” you murmur, lips ghosting across his, “you should get comfortable for bed.”
Without any other prompting, he quickly shucks off his jeans and socks before taking his shirt off just leaving him in his briefs. His cock sits half hard against his thigh and he watches as your greedy eyes take him all in.
“Mmm, not bad,” you grin at him, tail waving back and forth behind you. 
He settles back where he was and you move into his space, lips kissing across his jaw before pressing softly against his own mouth. With a groan, Leon lets your hot tongue lick into his mouth, hips rolling forward until you finally push him on his back and lay atop him. You break the kiss once to stare down in his face while you rock your wet little cunt against his bulge before lapping at his parted lips. 
Kissing you messily, Leon can’t stop from moaning and groping your ass through your sundress. The hard press of your nipples against his chest makes him grind against the apex of your thighs even rougher. Pulling away, you raise up into a sitting position over his lap. Your sharp nails tease across his pink nipples and his whole body jolts like he got an electric shock. 
“Oh, Leon,” you grin. 
He feels powerless while your fingers pinch and tug his stiff buds until he’s mewling and rocking up into your ass. Hands grabbing onto your thighs, he presses your dress up until he can see your bare cunt coated in clear slick that makes his mouth water. 
“Sit on my face,” he pants, “fuck, sit that fucking chubby pussy on my face, please.”
“What a dirty boy,” you lean forward and bite his nipple. 
Leon keens in his throat, a sharp high noise he’s never made in his life. Fuck, he thinks he might cum from just you abusing his nipples. His eyes flutter as your wet little mouth decides to suckle and tease his swollen buds; your sharp teeth scraping across them has his cock weeping precum, staining his briefs. 
“I-I’m gonna cum if you keep that up,” he finally gets out, hands tangling in his own hair, “fuck, please baby, sit on my face.”
“I guess since you’re being so good,” you sigh, sitting up to pull your dress up and off, nude body coming into view for the first time. 
“God, you’re beautiful,” he breathes out, eyes sweeping down your body. 
Your ears twitch and you smile, “You’re so sweet, Leon. Now sit back so I can ride your face.”
“Please,” he whines, helping you crawl up his body.
As you move, Leon shimmies his briefs down and off his legs. Your knees then rest on either side of his head and you gently sit your fat dripping cunt down onto his face. With a moan, Leon’s lapping and sucking up all of the slick coating your pussy lips, tongue running up and down your slit. Settling more of your weight down, you relax against him and he humps the air, cock drooling everywhere as he licks your pussy. 
“So good, Leon,” grinding your cunt down on his mouth, he flattens his tongue letting you rut against the slick muscle. 
He moans, hands cupping your ass to keep you from moving off of his face. Even if he suffocated, Leon would die a happy man. Chillbumps race down his body when your tail brushes over his chest and stomach. The soft fur of your tail eventually drapes itself over his stiff and leaking cock making him lap eagerly into your cunt, tongue fluttering against your pussy walls. 
“Right there,” you purr, nails carding through his hair and scratching at his scalp, “suck on my clit and I’ll cum all over your pretty mouth, Leon.”
More precum leaks from his slit, cock so swollen it aches. His eyes shut in an effort to control himself, control his thoughts before he cums all over himself like some virgin. You rock and grind down on his tongue, low moans filling the tent as he laps along your clit before sucking it into his mouth. Keening, you press your bodyweight down, making sure he stays suckling your swollen bud until your orgasm finally overtakes you. 
Leon moans just as loudly as you do, drinking up your slick like he’s a man dying of thirst. You undulate in place until the overwhelming feeling of his mouth has you shifting back down into his lap with a pleased little hum. 
“Fuck, you taste good,” he rasps, eyes blown out as he takes in your relaxed posture.
“Glad to know,” you tease, running your hands down his pecs and across his puffy nipples. 
He lets out a low hiss but doesn’t stop your touches. Your soft hands drift down to the thatch of hair at the base of his cock before sweeping down his thighs. 
“Finally,” you sigh, one hand slowly stroking his dick while the other cups his balls, “a nice fat cock.”
Said cock jerks and leaks even more into your palm, balls throbbing as Leon watches you play with his dick. 
“Fuck,” he whimpers, slowly rocking his hips up, “you like it?”
“Mm hmm,” you purr, “I’ve had lots of men over the years, but you have the prettiest cock I’ve ever seen.”
A spark of jealousy lights in his chest but it’s washed away by the twist of your wrist around his tip making him lose all train of thought. 
“I’ve been looking for someone like you,” you whisper, eyes flashing, like it’s a secret— Leon supposes it might honestly be, “someone to mate.”
His cock kicks, a glob of precum dripping over your fingers where they’re wrapped around his length. You use the sticky wetness to glide your hand more easily up and down his dick, slowly jacking him off. He groans, hips pumping but you only loosen your grip with a sly little grin. 
“Please,” he murmurs, “it hurts.”
“Does it?” You pout, hand softly massaging his sac before tracing the seam down to his taint, “poor little Leon wants to cum?”
“Uh huh,” he drops his head back with a broken moan, “please, w’nna cum for you.”
“Oh?” 
The way your voice piques with interest has his gaze lasered back in on your face. Your attention is focused on his cock but he sees the want sitting as heavily on you as he feels.
“Since you’re being so sweet,” your eyes flick to his and you hold the connection as you rub his cock over your slippery clit, mouth dropping open to pant. 
“God, you feel so good,” he grunts, hands grabbing your waist, thumbs digging into your hip bones, “please, please.”
You press his cock against his stomach and glide your soaked cunt up and down—the world's most torturous pussy job he thinks dazedly. His tip leaks so much there’s a small sticky puddle of precum forming on his stomach as your slick coated pussy lips part around his cock, hole dripping and rubbing against him. 
“You’re going to stretch me open so much,” you coo sweetly, tail swishing excitedly behind you, “hope you don’t cum too soon.”
Before Leon can even argue, you tilt his cock up and sink your pussy down on him; he knows he’s gripping you too hard, but he can’t let go when your hot little cunt’s sucking him in so agonizingly slow. 
He’s babbling too, but fuck if he knows what he’s saying; whatever it is, you don’t mind since you’re giving him that same throaty laugh from earlier that makes him wanna spill deep in your greedy hole.
It feels like a lifetime before you start to bounce on his lap, pussy squelching deliciously, making his mouth flood with saliva knowing what you taste like. The pace picks up and before he can blink, you’re riding him rough and fast, pussy clamped down on his cock like a vice. 
“I’m gonna cum,” he grunts, hands going to your hips ready to pull you up and off so he can spill all over your pussy.
He feels like a fucking teenager, not able to hold back on cumming inside your pussy like he’s never fucked a woman before. Hybrid pussy must be something else, he thinks dizzily, cock throbbing as your slippery walls pulse and throb around his thick length. 
“Cum inside,” you moan, nails digging into his forearms so harshly blood runs down his arms. 
The pinprick of pain makes him buck up harder into your spasming hole. His brain fizzes in arousal, dick buried balls deep in your soaked cunt. 
“Can’t,” he gasps, “fuck, what if you get pregnant?”
His cock thickens at the thought, balls tight against his body, at the hint of knocking you up. You laugh, that throaty sound that makes Leon throb, and you grind harder down on his lap. 
“Then mate me, little Leon, spill your seed deep inside and give me kits,” your lips spread in a smile so wide your fangs show, “breed my pussy like your cock’s begging you to.”
“Oh god,” he whines, “I-I can’t,” but he doesn’t stop himself from fucking into your pussy harder and deeper, balls aching to shoot his load.  
“Aww you can’t?” You mock, guiding his hands up to grab your breasts, “can’t fill my cunt with your thick cum? Can’t breed a wet pussy that wants it so bad?”
He’s losing the battle. It just feels too good inside your fluttering walls while he rabbits his hips against yours, cock stuffing you on every thrust. He squeezes his hands until your tits spill over his fingers, nipples hard against his palms. 
“Make me a mommy, Leon,” you croon, voice saccharine sweet in his ears and he nods before even realizing what you’ve said. 
“M-mommy?” He slurs out, body flushed and overheated as he fucks up into your cunt. 
You giggle and lean forward, “Mm hmm, you like mommies, Leon?”
He gasps, eyes rolling back as he leaks heavily inside your hole, “Ye-yes. Love mommies.”
“Good boy,” you murmur, dropping a dizzying kiss to his lips and he chases your mouth with a moan. 
“Mommy, want you to be a mommy,” he babbles out, brain complete mush now from the arousal, “want you to be my mommy.”
“Ohh?” You sigh gustily and lean forward more, pressing your breasts into Leon’s face. 
Taking the hint, Leon’s hand shift down to your ass so he can mouth and suck at your tits, licking and suckling your nipples as he thrusts sloppily. 
“Mommy,” he murmurs, tongue lapping at the soft skin of your breasts before sucking a nipple into his hot mouth. 
Whining, his eyes flutter shut. If he breeds your cunt, you’ll leak milk from these gorgeous tits. He moans loudly, the thought turning him on so much he can’t stop sucking your nipples. He pumps his hips up into your soaked cunt, feeling you drip slick down his cock to drip off his balls. 
“So hard, Leon,” he distantly hears your voice, “being such a good boy for me, fucking your mommy so good.”
Mewling against your breasts, he bites the puffy bud in his mouth, tongue lashing against it until you’re squeezing and rocking down on his dick. He could fill you to the brim, bust his load deep in your pussy and keep you on his cock til it takes. Eyes rolling in pleasure, he swaps to your other breast, mouth greedily suckling the hard nipple into his mouth. 
He pulls away, mouth brushing across the stiff peak as he looks up at you, “Mommy, gonna cum for you, gonna cum so hard in your pussy.”
“Good boy,” you smooth back the sweaty strands of hair sticking to his forehead, “if you fill me up you can keep me, a mommy all to yourself.”
His eyes drop to your collar and you grind down hard on his cock making him moan. 
“This is to keep people from getting any ideas,” you smooth your hands down his chest, nails scratching at his abs and making them tense, “you can put your own collar here if you want.”
Leon closes his eyes, trying his best to behave. Having you in a collar he picked out? Coming home to you waiting for him, maybe even splayed out in his bed, wet and wanting his cock. Shuddering, he blindly mouths at your chest nuzzling until he finds your nipple to pull into his mouth with a rough suck. 
“Mommy, ‘m so close,” he groans, “wanna keep you on my cock forever.”
You pull yourself from his lap with a loud wet suctioning noise that makes his balls draw up tight. The words to keep you sitting on his cock die in his mouth as you kneel down at his feet with your back facing him. You dip at the waist to press your chest into the sleeping bag as you arch your ass into the air. Your tail mesmerizes him for a minute before he scrambles up onto his knees behind you. 
“So pretty,” he slowly strokes his hand down your tail and you moan longingly, spreading your knees to present your wet little cunt to him. 
“Breed me, Leon,” you look back at him, ears twitching and teeth biting your bottom lip, “want you to fill me up.”
“Fuck,” he hisses, notching the head of his cock at your opening before slowly sinking inside. 
His hands grip the fat of your ass, eyes unable to pull away as he watches your pussy eagerly suck his cock back into your slick soft heat. The first few thrusts are slow and deep, letting him luxuriate in the feeling of burying his cock in your hot little pussy. 
“Harder,” you whine, hips pushing back, “give it to me, Leon.”
He lets out a pained grunt as he pumps his cock in and out of your tight hole. Leaning forward, he braces one hand on your shoulder to pin you down as his other grips your hip. The new angle lets him piston his dick deep and hard into your slick greedy hole. Moaning, Leon rabbits his hips faster and faster, balls smacking your clit on every thrust and making you squeeze his dick. 
Moving the hand from your hip, his fingers seek out your slippery swollen clit and rub soft circles across the pudgy bud. 
“So good, such a good boy,” you pant, nails clawing his sleeping bag to shreds, “god, you’re gonna make me squirt.”
The words turn Leon on so much he nearly blacks out. Chills race down his back and he teases your clit from side to side, dipping down to wet his fingers from the slick leaking from your stuffed cunt before pinching your bundle of nerves.
“Your pussy is so perfect,” he gasps, leaning back as he slides the hand from his shoulder down to grab the base of your tail, “gripping me so fucking tight.”
He tugs lightly and you keen, body thrashing wildly as your pussy clenches rhythmically around his cock. 
“Fuck that’s hot,” he groans, chin dropping to his chest to watch him fuck your cunt. 
The more he pets and tugs on your tail, the harder you squeeze down on his dick. Leon’s fingers also never let up on teasing and rubbing your clit while the fat tip of his cock kisses your cervix and makes you squeal. 
“Leon, ungh— fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you slur out, drooling on the slick material of the sleeping bag.
“Please cum for me,” he keeps the same breakneck pace paired with circling your clit and tail, “want that fat pussy creaming my cock, mommy.”
Your body locks up underneath him and Leon feels a gush of slick push his cock out and wet thighs; quickly recovering, he shoves his dick back inside your spasming walls and humps your pussy fast and hard. 
“You fucking squirted,” he whines, “never had a girl squirt on my cock and you fucking—god, I’m cumming, fuck, this chubby fucking pussy is making me cum, oh mommy—”
Leon nearly collapses as he presses himself as tight against your ass as possible, balls drawn up tight and pulsing as he spills deep inside your cunt. Your slick walls milk him for every drop— his dick spurting rope after rope of thick hot cum until it’s dripping from your used hole. 
When he goes to pull out, you whine and press your ass back against him. 
“Stay,” you sigh, “don’t want a mess just yet.”
Shuddering, he groans as your walls flutter and hug his cock. In no time, he’s just as stiff and hard as he was ten minutes ago. 
You moan low in your throat, “You can go again?”
“Yeah,” Leon’s breathless reply surprises himself, cock flexing inside your pussy and making you whine. 
The second time Leon creampies your pussy is rough and nasty. 
Pulling out, he flips you onto your back and slips his cock back inside your cunt. Slick and cum ooze out around his fat cock, but he’s too busy pressing your legs up and over his shoulders to notice.  
Mewling against his messy kisses, you clench and whine from Leon’s rough fucking. At this point, he can’t stop himself from giving it to you hard and fast.
“Gonna fuck your little cunt all night, mommy,” he knows he has no filter at this point, completely pussy drunk, but it doesn’t stop him from talking, “you’re gonna be stuffed to the brim, stuffed full of my cum.”
“Leon,” you moan, nails digging into his back and making him buck harder, dick knocking into your cervix roughly. 
“Yeah? Like that? I’m gonna pound this hot little pussy til you can’t take it anymore. Fuck, ‘m gonna give my mommy what she needs,” he growls out, feeling your heels bounce against his back with his thrusts.
“Want it,” you grin wickedly up at him, “give it to me, Leon. Be a good boy for mommy.”
He’s too wound up from earlier so in no time at all Leon’s cumming inside your pussy for the second time that night. His fingers pinch and rub your slippery clit until you’re clamping down tight on his cock, milking him into overstimulation as he finishes spilling his seed in your sticky walls.
Pulling out with a grunt, Leon collapses next to you with a sigh. Laying there in the quiet, he lets his heart rate drop back to normal before turning to you.
“You really want to get pregnant?”
You smirk and it makes his pulse race. 
“No, that little issue has been fixed,” you kiss the tip of his nose, “but it’s fun to pretend, right?”
Leon’s cock twitches against his thigh and he nods. 
“Yeah,” pink blooms across his cheekbones, “I liked it.”
Curling up into his side, he softly runs a finger across one of your ears. 
“Can I really keep you?” He whispers.
Night sounds slowly seep back into his awareness as a cicada screams nearby. 
“Can you truly keep a wild thing?” You muse humorously, head tilting back so he can see your bright eyes. 
At his contemplative silence, you run your hands through his hair with a half smile, “But I want to go home with you, Leon. If the offer is there.”
“Please,” he blurts out, not caring if he sounds desperate or whipped, “I’d love for you to come home with me.”
Smile softening your features, you brush the fringe from his eyes, “Then, I’m yours.”
Relief and excitement fills his chest and he grins, “Perfect.”
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sh1-n0bu · 8 months
Text
hhhhhhhhh
no no no you guys just don’t get it. irl i’m fucking small, okay? like i’m 163cm. 5’3 or however that would turn out to be. and you guys need to understand that being that small and having an s/o who’s an absolute giant compared tk you (bonus points if they’re in a position of power and commanding) and yet to have your powerful s/o become nothing more than a pathetic whining, whimpering mess who’s just begging for your touch while on their knees with tears welling in their eyes *bangs head against wall bangs head against wall bagns head against wall*
imagine being the lover of jing yuan. he’s a powerful man, a literal general of an entire army and yet the moment he sees you, he’s tugging on your sleeve, pouting as he asks for you to touch him. he’s been such a good boy and holding himself back for you, please help him out? he can get you your favorite snacks! or do you need shoulder massages? jing yuan is running around like an errand boy, trying to please you jusg so he can feel your hand tightly wrapped around his cock.
imagine being the lover of blade. he’s a scary guy. quiet, reserved, cruel and most definitely won’t hesitate to resort to murder if he wants something. or simply if he felt like it. imagine him crawling on your lap with loud whines and soft whimpers, grinding his hard on on your thigh. you always tell him to learn how to use his words but bladie just never seems to get it. maybe you should edge him again until he learns his lesson?
imagine being the lover of gepard landau. he’s the captain of the silvermane guards. the most trusted man and silvermane guard in the entirety of belebog. the people adore him and his subordinates look up to him, wanting to be strong and reliable just like their captain. if only they knew their captain was wearing a hidden collar underneath his high collared undershirt. one that said just who he would kneel to.
imagine being the lover of sampo. he’s a cheeky guy. lies and manipulation tactics ready up his sleeve. he knows how to weasel his way out of every dirty situation. but he would never lie to you. never you. not when you made it clear on just how rough you can be in the bedroom after finding out he lied about not tricking one of the astral express crew. but sometimes, sampo wants to lie again and have you know of it just so he can be put in impossible positions while he sobs and drools deliriously.
imagine being the lover of imbibitor lunae. he is the high elder of vidyadhara, the most respected individual amongst his own race. he’s elegant, divine, ethereal, calm and collected. a person of authority and power. if only the people knew just good you wreck him with only just your fingers. how his tail would curl around you asking for more while he sobs for you to be gentle. he’s always so sensitive in his vidyadhara form. just tug on his tail or guide his head to between your legs by his horns, he would become a mindless, pliant baby in no time.
imagine being the lover of welt. he’s a calm and serious man of the astral express crew. often being their guidance and pillar to lean on when things get a bit too much. heck, sometimes he even acts like a tired dad (that “maaarrrcchhhh” scene in xianzhou quest). hell, he was even formerly the second herrscher of reason, a being that’s literally able to bend the physics of reality itself. and yet he would do anything just so he can feel you around him. he wouldn’t hesitate to try and please you so he can be inside your warm walls, moaning and trembling as you ride him.
imagine being the lover of kafka. she’s a scary woman, no doubt. just a single whisper and you would be nothing more than her cute little puppet. and yet she uses her powers for more… different reasons when with you. ordering you to fuck her cunt, finger her open in the dark alleyway, to let her sit on your face so she can ride herself into overstimulation. kafka loves when you’re in control. especially when wringing orgasm after orgasm from her shaking body.
imagine being the lover of himeko. she’s the one who rebuilt the astral express, a respected and well known genius of a beautiful lady. anyone would be lucky to meet her. but the only luck himeko wants is to feel your fingers inside her. how she would give everything just so she can hear you whisper all sorts of vile things in her ear as you pinch her clit, telling her to keep quiet so she won’t wake up the others.
in conclusion, reverse size kink my beloved🥰🥰
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house-of-daena · 9 months
Text
how to milk a cow [alhaitham x gn.reader]
contents: no pronouns specified, dom reader/sub alhaitham, nsfw, degradation, humiliation, spanking, dacryphilia, overstimulation, (wc: 2.8k), tell me if i miss anything.
꒰ cow lingerie with alhaitham.... also r u guys ok with fics this long? ig i just have a lot to write about. i'll try to write something shorter and fast paced. (@niverine sorry for the tag i just thought you might enjoy this) rqs r open btw꒱
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this was just beyond embarrassing.
all ahaitham wanted to do as soon as you laid your eyes on his body was to crawl into a corner and hide. his clothing, something you had offhandedly mentioned, was nothing but obscene.
he was wearing lingerie with patterns of a cow's spots, tightly hugging the curves of his pecs so deliciously, it seriously looked like he had a huge pair of tits. the set didn't have an appropriate size for him (they don't make them with a man with a big body in mind), so every time he moved, it felt like his bra straps would snap. and the panties that came along with it were struggling to keep themselves intact, the pretty black and white lace straining against his raging, leaky cock.
around his neck was a leather collar with a small cowbell that rang at his every movement. and to top it all off, a cute little butt plug that fit snugly in his hole, a tail akin to a cow's, swinging behind him.
his face was burning hot, his skin reddening from his cheeks and all the way down to his shoulders. at first, it was satisfying to wear such a vile set of lingerie when you first saw him, eyes blown wide in shock as your jaw dropped to the floor. pride swelled in his chest to see you so taken aback since it was you who usually surprised him by a lot.
but since the size was too small for him, his bra could barely handle his chest. the lace rubbed against his sensitive nipples at each breath he took, his shoulders slightly trembling as he tried to maintain his confident facade. but archons, curse the soft lace of his lingerie for feeling so good—he wanted to stop himself from moving any further, the lace of his bra and panties just kept rubbing against his most sensitive parts so lewdly.
his nipples, puffy and hard, and the slit of his cock head drooling with copious amounts of precum, forming a shameful wet spot on his panties. not to mention the butt plug that his hole kept puckering in and out, unintentionally dragging the cool metal against his velvety walls.
he had planned to put up a show for you. to perhaps take control tonight and impress you, but it seems like his own clothing was sabotaging his plans. and at the mere brush of your fingertips over his nipples, through the lace, he had arched his back and let out a humiliating, high-pitched moan.
your look of surprise slowly morphed into something smug, and he could feel his stomach do flips at the way you smirked at him. you eyed him so intently, trailing up from his head and down to his toes, digging heat all over his body with your predatory gaze. and with the lick of your lips, alhaitham felt faint from the excitement at the thought that you'd devour him, his cock twitching adorably in his frilly panties.
"someone's sensitive today." you teased with a chuckle, grabbing his waist and pulling him closer to the edge of the bed. alhaitham let out an annoyed huff, trying his best to not rub his thighs together, cock painfully throbbing for any sort of friction. "you must really like the lingerie you graciously bought for me."
"i-i didn't buy this for you," shit, he was already out of breath, the tail from his plug seemed to slightly wag as his body continued to disobey his mind, sucking in the plug as deep as it could get. you tilted your head, amused at how determined he was to keep pretending. there was a slight tremble in his movements, straddling your lap as his alluring, turquoise eyes bore an unimpressed gaze. "you should be grateful that i'm letting you see me like this."
"oh? that so?" you hummed as the hand that rested on his waist slowly slid back to the small of his back, making him shiver at your touch, and down to the plug. he shot you a questioning look, before lightly tugging on the fake tail, making him choke out a moan, his thighs giving out on him, and he falls against your chest. you cooed into his ear as you pressed the plug deeper into his hole, then slowly pull it out with a pop! "then who did you buy this for, hm?"
"for myself, of course." oh, and he still had the audacity to roll his eyes at you, acting as if nothing had happened. his hot breath tickled your neck as you watched his hole wink at the sudden emptiness as if it already missed the feeling of being filled. it was quiet, but you heard him whine and grip tightly on your shoulders, his ass wiggling a little in hopes to entice you enough to plug his greedy hole. being the kind lover you were, you pushed the plug back and grinned, alhaitham letting out a pleased sigh.
"well, is that all you got for me?" you chuckle, a teasing lilt in your voice as your hands roamed all over his wide back, nails grazing his skin and making his body twitch in anticipation. his heavy cock rested against your abdomen, smearing some of his juices onto your shirt.
alhaitham looked a bit conflicted. he desperately wanted to have you under his control tonight, to have you moaning his name again and again. the thought of you bending to his will thrilled him, his heart pounding against his chest. but then you'd have his overly sensitive nipple in a pinch, tugging incessantly, and pressing your hot tongue flat against the other through his bra, and he's easily reduced into small mewls and whimpers that he tried so hard to hold back.
"s-stop that- ngh! then i can actually do as i planned... haahhh..." if only you stopped attacking his chest, then maybe he could actually think straight. he was already so needy, his body screaming and begging for you to just fuck him dumb into oblivion, but he was stubborn. he refuses to give up until he's had this night in his own way.
but then your eyes darkened as an idea formed in your head. you gently moved alhaitham off of you and told him to get on all fours. he was going to argue with you, brows furrowed and a pout protruding his bottom lip, but you hushed him, promising him a reward.
oh, he's so cute, obeying at the simple premise of a reward, ass perked up in the air.
alhaitham narrowed his eyes at your sudden shift of behavior, growing more and more flustered as the seconds go by. sitting up on your knees, you gave him a soft smile, but your eyes twinkled brightly with mischief.
"looks like a stray cow escaped the barn," you mused, lips curling into a wolfish grin as alhaitham's mood quickly shifted from shock at the absurdity of your words, to embarrassed offense as his cheeks burned into deeper shades of red as he glared daggers at you. wearing the lingerie, losing his composure, and now getting on all fours by your command was already humiliating enough, but roleplaying?
alhaitham tries to ignore the way his cock jumps at your condescending stare, your grin mocking him in this degrading situation that puts his title as the acting grand sage of the akademiya to shame.
"i'm not going to-"
the loud sound of skin slapping against skin reverberated across your shared room, cutting him off as the sheets crumpled in his grip. alhaitham's breath got caught in his throat, along with his words, jolting at the sudden, harsh impact against his ass.
you tutted as you knead your palm at the reddening handprint on his cheek, the tingling pain lingering on his skin as he let out a deep breath through his nose. he turned his head to look back at you, glaring at you, a scowl prominent on his lips.
he may be pissed at you for catching him off guard, but you don't miss the way his bottom lip trembles as your hand soothes the surface of his skin. "cows don't talk," you remind him, tilting your head as your eyes darkened, "c'mon haitham, what sounds do cows make?"
alhaitham's adam's apple bobbed as he gulped nervously, body shaking both from anticipation and fear of what was about to come. his heart was beating erratically the more you look at him, almost convincing him that he was, indeed, lowly cattle that managed to escape the confines of your barn. he always felt so unbelievably helpless when you talk down on him.
"i'm not a-" he tries to speak, but it was only met with a slap on his ass. alhaitham gasps, his back arching as his thighs begin to restlessly rub against each other. he could feel his panties about to tear.
"stop, i-" you slapped his thigh, hard, and he accidentally let out a squeal. you don't even allow him to finish his sentence! you forced his legs to separate and his arms grew weak, his elbows now propping himself up against the bed. "let me talk-" each word he spoke, the harder your hand hits his skin.
fuck, the burn felt so good. he can't take it anymore. his cock kept drooling from the pleasurable pain of each slap you land on his ass, and it slowly oozed down the bed, dirtying your sheets. the thought of leaving marks on his skin brought tears to his eyes, lashes glittering with unshed tears as he pressed his lips tightly together.
you were mesmerized at how the fat of his ass jiggled at each slap, wanting to hit him more and more until it was as red as the prominent blush on his face. but you were dissatisfied at how quiet your dear alhaitham was, gritting his teeth and only whimpering under his breath, panting softly.
you huffed at his stubbornness, your hands now tenderly rubbing his poor abused skin, chuckling at how his neglected cock twitched and throbbed between his legs. "looks like i have to punish this misbehaving cattle for forgetting how to moo," you faked a disappointed sigh as manhandled alhaitham to lay on his back, relishing the shameful glare in his eyes, "but i have a different approach to remind my prized cow to moo again."
you didn't give him a moment's rest. after all, he was just cattle. a piece of meat for you to ravish, all for yourself. you laughed condescendingly at him as you looked at him with eyes clouded with a lustful haze, leaning down and capturing his lips into a loving kiss. all the while, your hand slipped inside his panties, fingertips playing with his sticky tip.
alhaitham was quick to return the kiss, his big arms wrapping around your neck as you tilt your head to deepen the kiss. he pliantly gave easy access to your tongue, moaning at how rough you were kissing him, his hand pushing the back of your head to taste you more.
then you pull away, wet kisses trailing down to his jawline and onto his neck, nipping on the sweet spots that make him cry in bliss, before dipping your head down further. your teeth made work to move his bra up, to finally reveal his perky buds to your awaiting, hungry mouth. you cast alhaitham a cheeky glance, his eyes half-lidded and seductively biting his lip, he looked so gorgeous with his eyes twinkling with the same hunger as yours, pretty reds painting his cheeks.
pressing your wet tongue flat against his nipple, you hear him moan your name in a sultry tone, and you hastily began sucking on his hardened bud, slurping lewdly and tugging on it with your teeth. his dick was pulsating in your hand, aching with fervent need as he utters how desperate he was for anything, quietly pleading.
and as much as you loved watching alhaitham reduced into nothing but a needy slut, it wasn't what you wanted to hear from his lips, and he still has ignored your request. so you didn't spare him any mercy when your hand suddenly grabbed hold of his fat cock, digging your thumb onto his slit, his juices dripping all over your hand and down to his shaft.
he keens at the feeling of your warm hand finally engulfing his length, airy groans leaving his lips as you moved your hand up and down at a rapid pace, unrelenting, tightening your grip as you continued to suckle on his nipples.
you know his body more than he does, you've taken your time analyzing everything about him; what makes him react the most, what makes him moan, cry and scream—with just your hand tugging on his cock made his luscious body arch his back beautifully as he held onto your shoulders, digging his nails and leaving pretty crescent marks.
it was so easy to make him unfold, your thumb teasing his sensitive glans as your hands jerked him off. his cock endlessly leaked with his juices, so much so that you're practically using his pre as lube to speed up, your shared room now only accompanied by the lewd schlck! schlck! shlck! of your hand and alhaitham's cries and moans as it grew louder and louder.
and yet you didn't stop when he finally spurts out ropes of his cum onto his tummy. he was trying to catch his breath, vision blurry from his tears. no, you only intensified the way your hands pleasured him. you pressed the palm of your other hand on his angry, red cock head and began rubbing, cooing at the way his hips jerk back at the stinging pain from the overstimulation.
it felt like his body was in flames, body squirming and thrashing, the bell on his collar ringing as you kept jerking and rubbing his poor cock, gathering his cum into your hands to make your movements slicker. his eyes rolled back as his mind went completely blank, his toes curling as his body convulsed at how sensitive he was. he was screaming, squeezing his eyes shut as his tongue lolled out of his mouth.
"s-stop! i just- FUCK! ffffuck oh fuck! shit, oh archons, p-pleeassee!" alhaitham pleads, his body indecisive whether to pull away at the overwhelming pleasure that's sending electrifying sparks all over his body and down to his toes, or to pull away from the numbing pain it comes with. "i can't t-take anymore! i-i- AH PLEEASEE! i'm- i'm gonna cum again!!"
you didn't dare stop your hands, even if he came once more, so hard it seeped through your fingers. oh, you adored how much of a mess he and you haven't even done too much, grinning ear to ear as he doubles over. the loud squelching of his wetness was practically music to your ears. he was seeing stars at the back of his eyes, gripping the sheets for his dear life. he was shaking his head as he babbled nonsense, gasping for breath, pleading for mercy in between his broken moans.
you simply tutted at him, cooing mockingly at your boyfriend as you seized your movements for a short while, and you watched his chest rise and fall, catching his breath. "what sounds do cows make, haitham?" you ask again, making him cry when you squeeze his dick for an answer.
"c'mon baby," you hear him sob when you start jerking him off again, his body shaking like a leaf, mind drowning too deep into the sensations that spread all over his body that he can't even answer you. "you're usually so smart. i know you're not that dumb to forget something like that."
finally, it seemed to click in alhaitham what you wanted.
his bottom lip quivered, too lost in the pleasure, but not enough to that he's unaware now of how utterly humiliating what he was about to do. swallowing down a moan, he let out a long, and pathetic 'moooo'.
the laugh you let out was so taunting, it echoed in his mind, and your eyes held nothing but mirth and lust. he hoped that you'd spare him some mercy for obeying, but it was only a foolish thought, you wanted to hear more. so he did, his sinful moans turning into shameful moo's, his pride completely shattered to pieces.
it's not like he could be too embarrassed about it anymore. he's too dumb to realize he's began mooing loudly like a cow getting milk for all he's worth.
with another harsh jerk, more of his thick cum splattered all over his stomach, reaching up to his chest. swiping your thumb over his slit that leaked with beads of cum, you leaned down to kiss him on the lips.
"sorry love, i'mma make you cum 'till you can't anymore," you promised, and he whined pitifully, watery eyes begging you, whether to stop or keep going, you know he wasn't sure.
"after all, what else are cows good for except milking?"
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baby-dr1ver · 7 months
Text
kinktober &lt;3
oral
lando x fem!reader
warnings: smut!, male and female receiving, use of female gen., swearing?
Recieveing: 
It all started after Silverstone. He’d jumped out of his car, threw off his helmut and held it up to the sky. The pure confidence, cockiness and heat, coming off him was toxic. And you were begging for more. You watched him on the podium steps, licking the sweat from his top lip, spraying champagne over his friends beside him. A dull ache started to form, an unexplainable feeling stirring inside of you. 
You met him halfway in the garage, just as his engineers were packing away the car. He held your cheeks delicately and kissed you with passion, Lando had always loved slow and filthy kisses. Ones where he could feel your bodies reaction, listen to the little gasps and whines you let out, the way you hold onto him a little tighter. 
You could hear his engineers let out whistles and claps at the clear display of affection. You both pulled away, red faced, but happy none the less. You took him by the collar of his racing suit, and pulled him down a random hallway. “Baby, what has gotten into you?” He smirked as he watched you unzip his suit in a hurry. “Hopefully you in my mouth soon.” 
You got down on your knees, pulling his pants and underwear with you. You wasted no time in getting your hands around him, his head thumped against the wall, letting himself be taken care of for a change. 
“Fuck y/n, if this is what happens when I get a podium, I should do it more often.” Lando let out a strangled moan right after. 
“Couldn’t help it,” You leaned forward and kissed his tip a few times.” looked so fucking hot up there, a fucking podium at your home race.” You finally took him in your mouth and he preened. He pulled your hair away from your face and formed a pony tail. 
One hand held his thigh for balance, and the other reached up to touch is balls. You knew that was his weakness, that combined with a little suction on the tip? Feral. 
He started tugging on your hair, pulling you every which way to satisfy him. Drool and precum spilled out your mouth and down your chin, you looked up at his face and saw the most gorgeous sight. Landos eyes were squeezed shut, lips parted to let out quiet moans, his lean torso jutted out to get closer to you. You pulled away to speak, “C’mon Lando, cum f’me” You sucked on his tip hard and you could feel his balls draw up and the gasping moans he was letting out-he was gonna blow.
“Ah fuck- baby, oh my god.” You watched his eyes roll back as he came in your mouth. You grinned at the salty substance in your mouth before swallowing. You kissed his tip one  last time before tucking him back in his pants and standing up. Once he caught his breath, he switched positions and had you against the wall. But, just when things were starting to get fun, “Lando? Mate, you’ve got media duties, wrap it up please. Oh god no wait-not like that!”
Giving: 
“Lando wait-fuck slow down” You tried to get your barrings as Lando pushed you onto the bed and started stripping you of your clothes. “Can’t sweetheart,” he kissed the freckles and stretch marks on your stomach, pushing your dress up to reveal more skin and the pretty papaya underwear he all but ripped off. “Looked so good tonight, such an amazing girlfriend to put together a party just for me.” He lifted your legs over his shoulders, trailing kisses over your thighs, letting his hands wander up your body to play with your boobs. “Baby, it’s your birthday shit-” He let one finger drag through your slick, gathering it at your clit. “shouldn’t I be the one to give you a-a gift?” 
He pushed two fingers up so that sat on either side of your clit. He wriggled them left to right, left to right, so it moved side to side. You whined and grabbed his wrist to slow him down, or this night would end very quickly. 
He dismissed your question as he leaned down to kiss the crease of your thigh, letting his nose trail to the top of your pussy. He inhaled and his eyes rolled back for a second. “You okay with this?” He mumbled as he pressed himself against you. You nodded and gasped as you felt his fingers still playing with you. “I need words my love.” 
You huffed but spoke up, “yes please Lando, need it so bad.” You reached down to tug on his silky curls. He dove in, like a man starved, ate you like it was his last meal he’d ever have.
He was everywhere, fucking you with his tongue, teasing your clit by licking everything but it. He eventually gave in to your pleas and let the tip of his tongue glide over your button. 
“Jesus baby, how do you taste so fucking good every time.” You gripped into his hair harder as your hips bucked in time with his tongue. 
“Lanod please, please please please I need it so bad, please let me cum.” He smirked. Lando almost pulled away just to be an asshole but, he decided the need to make you cum tonight over ruled that. “C’mon then pretty girl, give me what I want.” He sucked your clit harshly and suddenly entered two of his thick fingers. You couldn’t keep still at that point, hips bucking, legs flailing. 
His hand found yours, interlaced them and gave your hand a squeeze, giving you the encouragement you needed to cum. You saw stars-no more than that. Fireworks, a forest fire, love. Nothing but love as Lando looked up into your eyes, letting you come down peacefully, whispering words of praise and adoration.
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dante-mightdie · 5 months
Note
Jumping aboard the 141 dog train bc woof. No need to make anything of this if you don't feel like it, just sharing my thoughts :)
Imagine reader being a show dog. I myself am picturing a Beauceron or a Red Belgian Tervuren, purely because they're just so gorgeous and striking, but feel free to imagine whatever breed you please. — Laswell finds you traipsing along the side of the road late at night, trembling from the cold and trotting in an oddly rigid manner—your head held high away from the ground and tail pointed skyward. That's weird. A high tail means confidence, but what could you possibly be confident about? And shouldn't a dog keep their head low, sniffing out their path?
She pulls over and you bound up to the car, which is another red flag for her. A lone dog out in the backroads should be a lot more cautious about random vehicles stopping right beside you, but you're only disinterested when the door opens and you see that it's only her inside.
It's then that she sees the thick, jewel-encrusted white leather collar buckled around your throat. There isn't a name or a number on it anywhere. It's purely for decoration. It's then that she also notices just how shiny your coat is, proudly wearing your healthy layer of silky fur like it was an expensive accessory.
Without the shadow of a doubt, you are a pampered little thing who is far, far away from home.
It comes as a shock to her that you're actually a hybrid, and not just some stray mutt. She only manages to get you in the car with gentle persuasion and the promise of a warm interior and some water.
Once inside, she shoots a message to Price and starts asking you questions.
"Am I correct in assuming that you're a... show dog?"
The haughtiness in your voice as you respond has Kate silently reminding herself that she was no better than whoever deserted you on the side of the road if she kicked you out.
"Tsk. Show dog. Ugh, please. I'm a consecutive eight-time international blue-ribbon champion of the World of Canines pageant. I'm a legend."
That reply is more than enough to convince Kate that silence would be much better suited for the duration of the ride. You don't agree.
"Where are we going?" You asked snappily once you realized you hadn't told her where you were going, "Why haven't you contacted my owners?"
"Sweetie—" Kate began patiently with a wry laugh, starting off with an endearment the way her wife would when she wanted to deescalate a situation "—you have zero contact information on you. I don't know who your owners are."
The incredulous look you gave her would've been funny if you hadn't been dead serious.
"What?" You all but yipped, "How on earth do you not know my owners? Actually— how on earth do you not know me?"
The thought of dumping you back into the snow for the wolves to ravage was a tempting one, but the image of Price and his boys putting you in your place was an even more satisfying one. At least, she hoped they would be able to manage you. There was also the chance that you would be so insufferable that you drove the boys to insanity, but she had seen her mutts stomach worse. She likes to think you'd make a nice little gift for them. They always loved a challenge.
She didn't bother answering you.
When you arrived at the top of a twisting path up a hillside—complaining every bit of the way about how the gravelly roads were giving you a headache and that you'd be getting eyebags soon if you didn't get your beauty rest—your nose crinkled in disgust. There were too many clashing scents that assaulted your powdered nose, having been far too accustomed to the poignant fragrances of the perfumes and potpourris you were bestowed in your vanity back at home.
"A cabin?" You sneered distastefully, huffing, "This is where you stay?"
"Nope." Laswell exited the driver's side and yanked the passenger door open, not bothering to hid her amusement when you almost fell out of the vehicle with a startled yelp. "It's where you'll be staying."
It was hard to miss the harrowed expression of dread that befell your features as those words met your perky ears.
"So until I can manage to get ahold of your owners, I suggest you behave, alright?"
She stepped back and pulled you out of the SUV—a birdlike screech of abhorrence exiting your lungs as she did.
"But in the meantime, boys, I've got you something to sharpen your teeth on."
You turned your head to locate who she was talking to, and felt your heart drop to your stomach when your gaze landed on a barrel-chested man standing proudly with a Rottweiler, Doberman, and a Rough Collie at his sides.
Your hackles stood on their ends. — I've got more to follow that's in a more sequential bullet-point style, but I'll cut it here for now bc I don't want it to get too long!
So, this post is just going to be me posting this ask. It arrived in 3 parts so i'll paste the second two parts under the 'keep reading'
@sugar-n-sweets said they'll post an edited version on their blog so please check it out :)
"This what you texted me about, Laswell?" The man asked, gesturing a finger towards you.
"Yeah, found her taking a late-night solo walk just a bit ago." Laswell readied herself to hop back into the car. "Figured you're more suited to house strays than myself."
The panic running rampant in your veins increased tenfold as you watched her slide in behind the wheel.
"No, you— you can't do this! You can't leave me here with— with them!"
Kate rubbed her temples and turned to you.
"Kid, you've got nowhere else to go. This is the only occupied property for miles, and I certainly can't take you back home to my wife. She's allergic to dogs."
A bold-faced lie. But you didn't need to know that.
You paled, looking back at the man and his dogs with wide eyes and a gaping jaw.
"This can't be happening," you muttered aloud to no one in particular but yourself.
"Sure it can," the man sang out to you as he trotted down the stoop of the porch. You didn't miss the glint in his eyes at your cowering as he approached.
"Now come on inside, love. We wouldn't want you to get sick out here."
You entered the cabin, but only to avoid that man's hand grabbing your collar when he reached out for you. You shuddered at how close he had been to grazing your precious coat. In a place like this with a mangy scent like that... only God knew where those hands had been.
You watched the man stalk off to a room down the hall, a manila folder tucked underneath his arm.
You just about shrieked when a cold, wet nose was pressed into your hip. You jumped back with your teeth bared.
"Look at tha' gait. Never seen anythin' more unnatural." The brogue was thick with the signature of Scots, rumbling from the chest of the Rough Collie as he spoke. "Y'got a name?"
Your shoulders tensed in apprehension when the question arose.
"Got a n— yes, I have a name!" You snapped irritably, "Just look at me!"
"Oh, I'm looking, alright." The Rottweiler chuffed from a distance, "Not much of a sight, if you ask me."
You could've given everyone else whiplash with how quickly you swiveled your neck to face the bemused dog.
"Excuse me?" You growled, hackles stiff and raised to their limit. "Do you have any idea who I am?"
The Scot rolled his eyes.
"If we did, ah wouldnae be askin' fer yer name." His eyes seemed to rake over your form, as if sizing you up. "What makes you so special, huh? What makes you so different from all the other mutts?"
Your eye twitched.
"Mutt?" Your voice began low, calculated and simmering in the rage that was about to boil over the edge and scald anyone standing too close. "Mutt?! I am no mutt! I am a purebred specimen of a luxury breed—"
"So you're stuck up," the Doberman snorted, sneering at you down the length of his snout. "Purebreds are only good for looking pretty. An aesthetic commodity."
The fury you felt with trying to get a word in with these dogs had your fur bristling with a type of rage that you had never before been acquainted with. "I am not stuck up! I am a consecutive eight-time international blue-ribbon ch—"
"Oh, so we've got a spoiled little whelp here, eh? Hope you don't expect us to pamper ye."
The frustrated squawk you let out hardly resembled anything that of a dog's cry. — Adjusting was not an easy feature to achieve.
As a show dog, you had no proper "domestic" life. You were a means of income—prize money. The only interaction you had with other hybrids, let alone animals, was with your competitions. So it was safe to say that things hadn't been going in your favor.
You struggled to keep up with them on their daily hikes around their property, as well as the only one who wore a leash. Even if there was no way you stood a chance at outrunning them, they found it amusing to tether you to a lead of rope and tug when you were falling behind—which was always. In order to keep a slim, show-ready figure, your owners never allotted you any more than ten minutes of a casual walk per day. If you even tried to speed it up to a slight trot, your time was cut in half. You did not have the muscle you needed to survive out here and it showed.
You were more humiliated than anything when Price had shoved you off the couch and sprayed you with a bottle, which especially irritated you because you weren't a cat! You were a dog! But fighting back was the last thing on your mind when you were struggling to find comfort on the hardwood floors while all three dogs were curled up with their Captain on his bed.
But over the past two weeks, you had more things to worry about than sore legs and a bruised ego. Since day one, these dogs had been cruel. They found joy in putting you through absolute misery time and time again, like a joke that never gets old.
Gaz made it his personal mission to inconvenience you at any available opportunity. He ate from your bowl, stepped on your tail, kicked you awake when you thought you were safe enough to take a nap—little things to just irk you in the worst way possible.
Ghost pissed you off by acting like you didn't exist half the time. He figured that since you were so accustomed to being recognized for your quote-unquote "achievements", being ignored was the equivalent of a swift kick to the gut. He was wrong. It was more like a sledgehammer to the kidneys in your case.
Soap was much more forward with his advances. He just wanted to piss you off and that was that. He would tackle you to the ground when you were outside, almost like a puppy trying to initiate playtime. He'd send you rolling into dirt, rocks, and snow—showing no interest in assisting you when you had to spend the next few hours picking dead bugs and bits of twigs from your hair. You couldn't be looking like some indecent pup when your owners came looking for you. You were raised better than that. You had a reputation and an image to uphold, and you were never one to disappoint.
And Price didn't do anything except watch with amusement as you were tormented left and right. Some handler he is.
It wasn't until the fourth week that things did began to take a turn.
There was still no word from Laswell about your owners. You'd almost thought that she'd forgotten about you, what with the radio silence regarding your situation and all.
It was a daily routine for you to wait at the front door—nose just inches away from the cold, dark wood in anticipation. It was as if you expected it to fly off the hinges and reveal your owners who you practically worshipped, arms open wide and ready to bring you back home.
You knew you'd be lucky to even get a reassuring head-pat if they found you, but the idea of their excitement at finally finding you was the one thing that kept putting you in front of that door every single morning.
Everyone noticed your behavior, but Ghost was the first to let it fully clock that even if you were in insufferable little hellion—you acted the way you did because that's what you were raised to recognize as the norm. You didn't act like this because you wanted to, you acted like this because it was expected of you, and any disconnection from these mannerisms likely resulted in punishment when you were younger.
He didn't really know what to do with that information, so he didn't do anything. — Laswell's visit the next weekend was unwarranted, but most certainly not unwelcomed.
"You still got that show dog with you, or did you leave the back door unlocked during bear season?" She asked, her stalwart tonality clashing with the joke she made.
"Rest assured, the lil' priss is alive and well, Kate," Price coolly responded as he swung his ax down onto an upright log—splitting it in half.
"Good."
"Any reason for the sudden concern, or are you just feelin' sweet today?" Price set up another log and lined up his ax.
"I found her owners."
The hatchet met the cutting stump with a deep 'thunk', the edge of the blade burying itself much further than it was intended to go.
"Really?"
Kate nodded.
"Hm. Well..." Price paused, giving the handle of the tool a harsh tug and dislodging it from the wood. "...That's good."
"I wouldn't speak so soon."
"Why's that?"
Kate extended her phone to him, where a gallery of photos was displayed on the screen. There were two people—a man and a woman—smiling brightly with a pampered pooch sitting in front of them, donning a blue ribbon, and a leather collar identical to yours.
Except, it wasn't you.
"This was from the pageant last week. The one she was supposed to compete in."
"So why isn't she?" Price inquired, scrolling through the photos and finding similar images from different angles.
"She didn't win first place in her last show." Kate took her phone back from Price. "They never told her that she lost. They just took a 'detour' on their way to the next pageant, and picked up their next dog after dropping her off on the shoulder a month ago."
"So they just..."
"Left her, yeah." Kate nodded, chewing the inside of her cheek. "So, her position here may be a little more permanent than we thought."
You were raised by your owners to be the embodiment of elegance. That meant no barking, no scratching, no bouts of energy—none of it. You were so used to this way of life, ignoring your instincts, that you never had the desire to do any of those things.
But when you found out about what your owners had done—
Oh, how you wanted to raise hell.
You weren't even meant to know yet. You were simply inside as you practically always were, sitting on the rug of the living room because Price still wouldn't let you sit on the couches. You had the remote in hand, volume turned down low and closed captioning on as not to alert Soap, who was just a couple rooms down the hall.
You technically weren't supposed to be messing with the television, but today was the date of the pageant you were supposed to be competing in—the one you were supposed to win—and like hell were you going to miss it. You had memorized the listing and channel of every broadcasting service that would be airing it ages ago.
So there you were, kneeling inches away from the TV with an anxious grasp on the remote and your tail nervously stiffened behind you.
You were checking out the competition, rolling your eyes at snooty faces you recognized, mumbling about how you would've presented that strut so much better had you been there. One could only imagine your confusion when you saw a new dog. A spry, sleek-coated Irish setter with a shockingly familiar handler guiding her along.
Your jaw dropped.
That was your handler.
"No!"
You didn't care about keeping the noise down anymore. You rose to your feet in a flash. That was Sergei. Handling another dog. But that didn't make any sense. Sergei only worked for your owners, and only presented you at pageants. Had your owners fired him? Surely not—you loved him! So then why was he handling this new dog?
And why was there a new dog at all? The participation slots were full. You should know, because you took the last one, and pageants didn't take understudies in the event that a dog didn't show up. If a dog wasn't there, then they weren't there. It just counted as a forfeit.
Still in shock, you raised your hand to clutch your proverbial pearls—but when your fingers met your neck, you became acutely aware of the similarities between what you felt, and what you were seeing on the screen.
Ruffles. Jewels. Lace. Leather.
She was wearing your fucking collar.
You didn't need to see Sergei walk the Setter up to your owners after the circuit to connect the dots—nor did you need to see them slip the blue ribbon over her head, hear your owners fabricate a tale about how you were so ashamed after winning silver that you couldn't bear to compete again, and selected Dolores to take your place, or even recall how they oh-so graciously let you out of the RV to let you "stretch your legs" only hours before Laswell found you on the road. It was clear as day.
There were so many urges bubbling within you. It was confusing and pissing you off. You wanted to yell. You wanted to break things. You wanted to unleash yourself.
And because your owners weren't here to drop a phonebook on your tail as a punishment—you did.
"You fucking bitch!"
The clasp of your collar flew off and landed somewhere in the room as you ripped it from your throat. Doing so fucking hurt, but you weren't going to bother being gentle with the accessory that keyed you as property of your traitorous owners.
Soap tumbled into the room, footfalls heavy and uncoordinated from having just been crudely awoken from a midday nap. He only caught a glimpse of you storming out the back door.
He rushed to follow, ready to pounce and bury his teeth into your neck and subdue you like he had in the past, because you weren't allowed to go outside without permission, nor without the Captain.
But he froze in his tracks when he saw you in the snow, having taken on your full canine physique and tearing into your collar—or what was left of it—with reckless abandon. Pearls and gems flew every which way as you bit down on the leather hard enough to make you gag, shaking it like it was small prey with the most vicious snarl he'd ever heard come out of you.
"Lass, what's—"
The collar went flying into the air, and landed a ways into the distance, among the trees that surrounded the clearing of the cabin. You were panting as if you had just run a marathon, body trembling as you stool still. Whether it was from the cold, adrenaline, or fury—he couldn't tell.
"They lied to me!" He heard you scream.
"Who lied t'ye, lassie?"
"They never entered me into the competition— they nev—" you cut yourself off with an enraged shriek. "They already had a replacement!"
Soap couldn't tell if you were talking to him or yourself.
You were out there for a while, howling with rage while Soap apprehensively stood a few paces behind you. Your animalistic war-cries were enough for Gaz to come bounding up the hill from the cabin's lay of snowy plains below, fully alert and looking around frantically to locate the source of distress—only to discover that you were the cause of your distress. Well, somewhat.
He wanted to feel satisfied and amused when Soap filled him in on what had happened, but he just couldn't. You, a sheltered cash cow from birth, had been thrown away and replaced for some trivial mistake that you had made in you last pageant—the only thing you were good at and good for just not being enough, when you lived to appease them.
He couldn't help but feel sorry for you.
You weren't having it, though.
"No! No, you shut up!" You clambered onto your feet, pointing a finger into his chest. He was about to snap back at you, but you spoke to quick for him to overlap.
"I don't need your damn pity. I need to be a dog."
He blinked, expression faltering.
"What?"
"My entire life—" you inhaled deeply through your mouth as you roughly wiped away streaks of tears "—I have been nothing but a pretty bitch that pays the bills, and if they won't even let me have that—then it ends now."
They both stand silently, waiting for you to continue.
"Teach me how to be a dog."
The 141 were made up of honest men—a rare commodity in this day and age. No matter how you felt about something, you always knew the truth, and none of them hid anything about themselves unless absolutely necessary. Unfortunately for you, that mostly just entailed them openly voicing how annoying they thought you were, or how you wouldn't last a day in the wild—but they stood by their word in the following weeks, re-training you to embrace your canine urges.
It started with a bath, oddly enough. You figured the first thing they'd have you do was dive headfirst into a pile of mud, but instead you sat calmly in the tub as Price rinsed out the shampoo with the handheld showerhead.
"Have to say, you take to bathin' much better than any of my boys."
You huffed with an indifferent grumble. As a human, Price couldn't understand you in your canine form, but he'd been around hybrids long enough to get a general idea of what they try to get across. Grooming days were part of your routine. Of course you loved baths.
Sure, this tub wasn't as luxurious as the small pools your personal groomer used to lather you up in, nor did it have the elaborate tools to ensure that your coat absorbed all the nurturing properties of your expensive shampoos—but those fancy trinkets could be bought by anyone lucrative enough. Not everybody could say they had John Price's large, calloused hands scrubbing dog shampoo into their fur.
"I'm sure this isn't the salon-quality product you're used to," he mentioned as the soap foamed and bubbled up under his touch, "but it does the job. 'Fraid you won't be seein' much of name brands anymore, though."
You were apprehensive when he approached you with shears after towel-drying you off, never having anyone but Sergei trim the ends of your coat before. Your past owners liked to keep your fur long and shiny, but even you knew that such a high-maintenance coat wouldn't survive out here, so to the scissors it went.
"Don't you worry, dove," he coaxed. "Just a little off the top, yeah?"
It was odd, seeing yourself in the mirror after the chop. Price clearly knew what he was doing. You should've known from the start that he was practiced with shears, if Soap's well-tapered coat was anything to go by. He had kept some of the original length around your legs and tail, but did away with the longer areas at your neck, chest, cheeks, and underbelly.
You stared at your reflection, head tilting this way and that as you inspected your new appearance. You were still plenty fluffy with rich fur—but you didn't have those mane-like tresses that required extensive combing and conditioning to keep healthy. Less of you was hidden by your fur, and you came to notice just how lacking in muscle you really were. You'd work on that with the 141 another time, you were sure.
You didn't look like a pampered show dog anymore. You were just… a dog.
It didn't bother you as much as you thought it would.
"How'd I do?" Price smiled down at you, letting a big hand ruffle your head—ears flopping from side to side with the action. You chuffed shortly through your throat, an unsure vocalization before barking at the mirror with your tail wagging.
He laughed in that deep, rumbling fashion, "Make sure to leave five stars."
Next was going to be getting you to give chase and sink your teeth into something with a beating heart, but when Soap watched you stiffly trot up to the back door with your neck and ears vertical, and your snout parallel to the ground—he realized that there was much more work to be done here before he sent you off into the neck of the woods. He could leave hunting up for someone else to take care of later.
"Bonnie… what in God's name are ye dooin'?"
"I—" You cut yourself off to turn and glare at him. "I'm walking, jackass. What else?"
Soap wouldn't be caught dead admitting it aloud, but he loved the new attitude you gave him. It was still pretty much the same you would give him before, but it came off in different waves. Your voice wasn't as high-pitched, your vocabulary was less prestigious and haughty, and your responses weren't so long-winded (they always included you rambling about how your "elite" mannerisms were the result of a proper, exquisite lifestyle that Soap was too roguish and brash to ever qualify for). Your mouthy habits now consisted of sass and snark he was used to from the military, and was quite fond of with his pack.
"Ye call tha' walkin'?" He practically gawked at you, half-joking. "Nah, lass. Change of plans. Gonna teach ye how t' strut proper."
So that's how you found yourself trudging through icy mud, body trembling as you braved the chilly winds that flew over the marsh Soap had dragged you down to. You yapped in disgust as a fish swam over your paw.
"Och, haud yer weesht, hen." Soap crowed from a grassy patch of the wetlands. "Keep yer head on snug. 'S no more than a wee minnow. Willnae bite ye, ah swear."
You turned to sneer at him, ears laid flat against your head as you squinted. It turned into an eyeroll when he split his mouth into a cheeky grin.
You were trying your best not to complain. You really were. You wanted to be a dog, and if this is what it took, then so be it. Even if it meant your fur was wet up to your knees and elbows.
"Price isn't gonna be happy, you know," you barked over the howling wind.
Soap leapt from one patch to the neighboring one. "On the contrary, I think he'll be right chuffed t' see ye gettin' yer paws dirty."
"After he just washed me?"
"Especially after he just washed ya. Shows 'im that ye aren't afraid of keepin' an image anymore."
Your tongue darted out to wet your nose as you contemplated his words. The breeze was drying.
"Okay, but… why are we out here specifically?"
Soap smiled and wordlessly leapt into the marsh with you—no care for his white coat at all—making you rear your head back as the murky water splashed too close to your face for comfort.
"Glad y' asked," he boomed, the volume unnecessary with how much closer he was to you now. "Y' ever seen a dog walk normally with slippers on?"
The question caught you off guard.
"I—" you blinked at him "…no?"
"Exactly. The water has the same effect. Weighs ye down, forces you to do what's comfortable." He demonstrated what he meant as he spoke by marching through the water, bringing each paw above the surface to avoid the resistance of the liquid when he stretched it forward to take a step. He stopped to face you.
"Go on, then," he urged, "give it a try."
The sensation was awkward and disorienting when you tried to walk. Your body was moving faster than the water would allow, and your feet couldn't match the pace you demanded of them—resulting in you tripping over nothing but sheer inertia, and falling into the foggy marsh.
Soap laughed above you as you stood up—water dripping from every part of you but your head and back.
"See what I mean? You cannae be marchin' tha' fancy canter o' yours when yer up to yer knees. 'S no' a parade, lassie. Here—just follow my lead. You'll be canterin' in no time."
It took near to a week's worth of treading the marsh for Soap to see genuine improvement in your gait, and a couple days more of sprinting across acres of land for him to be satisfied enough with his work. Price, as you expected, wasn't super jovial to see your freshly-washed coat dripping with mud the first time around, but it wasn't anything that a a hose-down outside the cabin couldn't take care of.
You learned how to avoid getting caught on your own feet as you got better at running, and as a result, had significantly less incidents that left you wet and huffy—but today, Soap decided he was in the mood to play, and tackled you into the wetlands like the overgrown teenager he was. It ended with both of you sopping wet and out of breath.
Ghost had hauled you off of him with his maw latched onto your scruff as you rolled around in the mud with Soap's ear between your teeth. He was huffily growling that Gaz needed you back at the cabin, and snapping his jaws at Soap when the Rough Collie felt ballsy enough to playfully nip at his haunches like the sheepdog he was—speeding off before Ghost could get the bright idea of pursuing him.
You found Gaz perched on top of the cellar doors on the side of the cabin—a dark, warm spot that got direct sunlight for every waking hour of the day. You could always count on him being there.
His eyes snapped open when he heard your noisy footsteps crunching through the snow.
"There you are," he huffed impatiently. "It's about time."
You returned his attitude with equal lackluster vigor, "You could've let me know you were looking for me."
"Sent Ghost to fetch you."
"Too proud to do it yourself?"
The Doberman slid off the wooden basement doors, paws landing on the snow with an imperceptible crunch. "If I switch focus, I'll loose the trail," he bluntly stated before starting into the mouth of the forest.
These men and their need to answer in riddles. "What?" You asked in exasperated confusion.
"You hungry?"
You sighed. And so the puzzle continues.
"What are you yapping about?"
He once again ignored your question and continued talking, "Hungry or not, I'm locked on to a scent right now and you need to practice hunting."
Oh. So that's what this was about.
"I thought Ghost would be the one to teach me to hunt."
"You want him out here instead?"
"No."
Gaz scoffed out a laugh at your snark, "Don't complain, then."
"I'm not," you defended, "I just… figured he was more suited for this."
"Yeah?" Gaz hopped onto a fallen tree that blocked his path and jumped down just as quickly. "And somehow I'm not?"
You opted to crawl under the log. "No, that not what I—"
"Ah, hush. Just taking the piss." His trotting gait slowed to a strut as you caught up to his side. "I get what you mean. Simon's a big dog, and an even bigger lad. Can't really picture him doing much else, can you?"
You gave it a moment of thought before agreeing, "Yeah… no, I really can't."
"I don't blame you, but don't doubt me, either. I was a guard dog back in my service days. Hunting comes naturally."
You applied what Soap taught you as Gaz's speed picked up again, trying to match his pace. "Well, it doesn't for me," you reminded caustically, "so what am I gonna do here?"
Gaz's docked tail twitched as he nosed you in a new direction. The top of his snout came into contact with the right side of your skull and he jutted his head forward, nudging your orientation westwards. You grumbled in discontent as the gesture caught you off guard, and threatened to knock you over. You stumbled to the side—in a lowered stance as your legs splayed out more to catch yourself—and sneered up at Gaz before trying to nip at his side. He easily shifted out of your reach, which made you more irritated than you already were.
"Stop that," he gruffed. "Just come here."
You wanted to ignore him and pettily plop yourself onto the snow you stood over, but you noticed that Gaz had stopped right in front of a large bush decorated with berries a few yards ahead.
"What's this?" You asked, regaining your balance.
"Huckleberry, originally, but there's mistletoe in there. Parasitic plant… don't eat it," he warned, as if you were actually planning on doing that. He urged you forward with another nudge. "Take a sniff. Really try to pay attention to what sets it apart from other smells."
Dubiously, you did as instructed; extending your neck to brush your nose with the flora. It took a moment for your nose to recognize and separate the fragrances, but as soon as you could clearly pinpoint the sweetness of the huckleberry and the bitter poison of the mistletoe—and hone in on the scent to lead you to other plants with the same arrangements—Gaz introduced you to various other scents and repeated the process.
By the the time that the next twenty minutes had passed, you were also able to identify buttercups, pine needles, shedded fur, a quail corpse, and Ghost's territorial markers. You were satisfied enough to call it a day, but Gaz apparently had other plans.
"Stop," he suddenly commanded, his voice hushed and tentative. The suddenness of it was enough to make you obey. He crouched down low until he laid on the bank, and you followed suit. "Look."
Curious, you lifted your head to see what had demanded such stealth from him, and felt your ears perk up upon seeing a white hare just a little ways off.
"Hungry yet?"
Instinctively, your tongue laved over your chops at the prospect of a meal. Soap's energetic roughhousing was a taxing endeavor to participate in.
"Yeah."
Gaz scooted back a bit to let you take the lead. "Then it's yours. You know what to do?"
You were half-listening. "Mhm. Yeah, of course."
"Show me."
Rising from the ground slightly, you paid mind to your pose as you kept your nose low enough to the ground to pick up on its most recent scent trail—just like Gaz taught you. You missed the way he spared a quick side-eye glance to you before doing a double-take.
"You keep that stance, and a lot of critters around here are gonna get the wrong idea," he remarked warningly—but his quieted voice had a faint distinction of amusement to it.
You didn't understand what he meant until you felt a pair of hands reaching to grab your hips and lower them to the proper crouching stance, bringing your ass down so you weren't presenting your doggish cunt to the world.
"The mud does good to hide your scent, but that'll only do so much if you give yourself away like that."
You could hear the double-entendre in the way he spoke, clearly not trying to be subtle, but you opted to ignore it plus—the heat crawling up your neck—regardless. He left a firm pat to your haunches before moving back and giving you the green light to strike.
"Impress me."
You had improved plenty over the past few weeks with the guidance of both Soap and Gaz—regularly having races and hunting sessions until your needs were sated. Price was a little more approving of you returning caked in mud, but only when you had dried blood crusting around your mouth on that first successful hunting session with Gaz. He especially loved it when you brought something back for him, whether it be a poor squirrel or the body of a rabbit. No matter what it was, he was there to praise your success and drag his nails through your fur appreciatively. He congratulated Gaz frequently for doing so well with teaching you.
The brunt of winter was quickly approaching, and with it came flurries and changes. Changes that occupied every edge and valley of your mind, turning your morals on their heads and skewing every coherent thought you managed to procure.
You had yet to know if Ghost planned to teach you something, but if you were being honest, you couldn't care less about what you were supposed to learn now. Not when you were hiding in a corner of the old, worn down sheep stable not too far from the marsh where Soap taught you how to run, staring at the phallic-shaped icicle hanging from the windowsill and contemplating whether or not frostbite was worth a sense of relief.
You see, here—you don't sterilize hybrids. It's unethical and outlawed in most countries. So, naturally, you weren't spayed, and naturally—
You went into heat.
Now, you knew it was inevitable. Your heat was completely unavoidable, just a thing of nature—but that didn't mean you dreaded it any less.
So that's why you buried yourself in clumps of aging straw in the hayloft, internal temperature far too high to be bothered by the biting winds that nipped at your exposure.
In the past, your heats were managed with toys, medications, hormone-balancing supplements, and being locked in your room for days on end.
This was your first heat away from your owners. This was your first heat without anything to ease or shorten the experience, and being so scared about what you could potentially do during the blindness of your desperation—you ran for the hills at the first sign of an episode.
You were still well within tracking distance, not wanting to get lost and become unrecoverable, but you hoped it was far away enough for the men to get the hint that you needed to be alone.
Now, was there any actual plan? Absolutely not. You had no provisions, no protection against the elements, and you were fully aware that a heat without any external aids could last over a week. In the moment you fled, the only thing on your mind was being a safe distance away from any opportunity to make a mistake.
And as you were now, hands trembling far too much to get a proper focus on your clit and whining embarrassingly loud—your body was cursing you for doing such a thing, but your dignity was gratefully intact.
"Bonnie!"
You have got to be fucking kidding me.
You couldn't bite back your whimpering keens, but rolled over onto your stomach to bury your noises into the scratchy hay.
"Bonnie," Soap called once more, "you in here?"
You couldn't reply through your breathless pants.
"Price is askin' fer ye, lassie," his voice echoed around the open space of the barn. "Didn't like ye pullin' tha' stunt n' takin' off, y'ken."
When there was still no reply, Soap took the liberty of trailing your scent with his nose—clambering his way up the ladder when your fragrance grew stronger. The heady weight of your overpowering scent punched him in the face once he reached the hayloft.
"Where'd y— fuckin' Criosd, thoir dhomh neart."
His hips bucked forward at the smell of you, popping a stiffie in mere seconds and greedily grinding the tent in his trousers against the rung of the ladder that was level with his groin.
"Oh, bonnie— 's this why y' scampered off?"
He found himself crawling over to your prone form, beginning to shake with the restraint he was exercising. Your following whine was enough to jut his pelvis forward again—the urge so demanding that his clothed manhood sought out a tight warmth that wasn't even there, and thrust down onto the wooden planks. He paused for a moment as his body worked on its own volition, rutting against the floor a for a bit until he could reign himself in again.
"You should've just told us, baby," he cooed. "We'd be happy to help ye."
Your body registered him as not your semi-friendly acquaintance-somewhat-past rival-packmate, but as someone capable of providing you with a knot, and your back involuntarily arched at the sound of his voice approaching from behind—exposing your pink, sobbing pussy to him, and her slick tears that coated the entirety of your inner thighs and ass.
Soap couldn't even think to stop himself before he dove headfirst into your slippery cunt, his sloppy tongue immediately reaching into your channel and ladling your bittersweet grool into his mouth—swallowing you in mouthfuls and slurping you up like a thick smoothie.
Your pleading moans pierced the air, and you drove your hips back into Soap's face—to which he pressed forward even firmer and gripped the sides of your upper thighs with a painfully horny grip, using his thumbs to split you apart further and rub harshly at your red, neglected, and engorged clit.
"Hidin' out here," he began after pulling away to catch his breath, seamlessly replacing his tongue with his middle and ring finger, "ain't th' way t' handle this, bonnie."
He grinned down at you as he humped the back of your thigh, fingers pumping into you with intensity and speed as he honed in on your g-spot.
"Y' gotta embrace every instinct, hen." — Dogs were animals. By dictionary definition, they were just another subspecies occupying the Animalia kingdom. And animals, in their barest form, were just a representation of the most basic needs that presented themselves in every breathing individual.
So with learning to be a dog—you had to learn to submit to your body's every whim.
Now was as good a time as any for Ghost to pitch in on training sessions.
After Soap had ripped an orgasm from you with deft fingers, he took you from the hayloft and left a squirt-soaked pile of hay in your wake. Now back at the cabin with the Scot laying back on Price's bed after he graciously pumped his semen into you three times over, he held you full-nelson style for his best bud while Gaz relentlessly hammered his hips into yours in the same manner he had been for the past ten minutes. You came time after time again—once achieving several climaxes in the span of a minute—but even with the amount of orgasms you had been given, your body only cried out for another knot, so you were far from finished.
Your head rolled back as his girthy cock pummeled your sensitive walls, but the Doberman forced your head back up with a grip on your jaw—patting your cheek twice before he and Soap simultaneously dived down to your neck and attacked the sides of your throat.
Even as Gaz tossed his head back with a throaty groan and emptied himself inside you, he didn't stop pulsing into you with the shallow thrusts that he was able to manage with the expansion of his knot.
The entire time, he and Soap fed praises and croons into your ears, remarking how perfect you were for them, how gorgeous you looked while so cockdrunk and needing.
It was only after two more generous helpings of Gaz's sperm did his knot deflate enough for him to slip out and roll next to Soap—but you still only had enough clarity to recognize Price's large, steady hands wiping your hair from your face. Being laid down on your stomach near the foot of the bed by your prior partner, you were eye-level with his bulge, and immediately took advantage of the angle.
"Hey— woah, there!" Price grunted when you shot forward to bury your nose into his loins, tongue darting out to simply mouth at whatever was available to you. He fisted your hair and pulled you away from his pants, leaning down to plant a sweet kiss onto your forehead. "I'm flattered, but I'm just a man. I can't give you what you need right now. Maybe another time, okay? Just be a good girl for my boys right now, love."
You could only whine desperately in response—mind still too scrambled to come up with words yet. Price pulled away, and called back to another, unseen individual in the room.
"Ghost. Come n' eat."
Everything between Ghost getting on the bed and tilting your hips up to mount you from behind was a blur, but you could really only focus on how this was the first time that Ghost was touching you properly. It turned you on more than it should've.
"So you wanna be a real dog, 's that right?"
His gravelly, rumbling rasp caught you off guard, but you managed to scrawl out a whimper that resembled "yes" as his brutish cockhead grazed over the folds of your weeping pussy.
"Well, real dogs don't go hidin' away from their pack when their cunt's cryin' out for a knot."
His tone turned condescending as he wound a fist in your hair, tip nudging your slick, used entrance.
"They come crawlin' to 'em on all fours, put that tight little pussy on display, and beg to be stuffed."
He punctuated his accusation with the full sheathing of his breathtakingly dense cock into your tight snatch—the wind being punched from your lungs as you practically felt his tip emerging from your throat.
"You say you're not a mutt, but look at you now; a victim to your instincts, just like any other bitch." — The room is filled with soft moans in the early morning, a lazy Sunday never being lazier as Price sweetly pumps his thick cock into the welcoming heat of your cunt in a spooning position.
The boys have long-since departed for their routine dawn patrol, but the soft-hearted Captain provided a comforting presence as he brought you gentle pleasure—his hand smoothing over the plump swell of your gorgeously rotund stomach; brimming with the promise of a healthy, capable litter of pups in the near future.
"Y'know," you spoke, voice light and airy as John's hand traveled further south to gingerly swipe at your clitoris, "if I'd known it'd take getting knocked up to be allowed in your bed—I'd have bent over for you lot much sooner."
He languidly laughed with you, pressing his lips to the space of skin beneath your ear in tender adoration.
"Every bed in this cabin will be forever available to you. I don't care which you choose in the night—so long as you're here with us, there's nowhere else I'd rather you be."
"Can't think of anywhere better, Captain."
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julicity · 1 year
Photo
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SEBEK ZIGVOLT - OVERBLOT -
full size version
Please see the full sized version linked above! Since it’s been compressed pretty badly here...
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And here’s a version without the unnecessary lightning background, and a face close-up without the glow effects.
ALRIGHT, so this is one of the biggest pieces I’ve done in a long while. I put a lot of work into this so I hope you all enjoy~
I’ve got a lot to say about this one, so read at your own leisure lol.
I think it’s worth leaving notes on my design choices for this one, so I’ll start with that.
First of all, Sebek's character is based off of lightning/thunder (obviously) and also Maleficent's crocodile minion, the latter which I incorporated more parts of (like the halberd and the pointed coattails like his croc tail). Also his phantom would be based on the croc minion character.
I originally wanted to give him more actual crocodile features, like a tail or scales or something, but it wasn't really working out the way I wanted, so I scrapped it.
Most OB’s have long, ripped clothing so I gave him more of a cloak akin to Maleficent’s, the shape of the collar specifically being the same as hers.
I added some spikes on the coat like crocodiles have down their back and tail.
I really like the leg pieces that Riddle & Leona had for their OB’s, and the weaving pattern also happens to make a zigzag lightning shape, so it fits.
I also like the OB designs that have super drippy blot on their arms.
Some things are just copied from his dorm uniform, like the waistband and belts, and the shoulder armour (not the spools of thread though...).
The left shoulder armour doesn't exist in the normal dorm uniform. OB Sebek has one made of blot because Sebek's biggest insecurity is that he's incomplete and will never be good enough due to being half-blood and he wants to be whole T^T
Lightning-shaped blot markings on his face of course. Mostly I just tried to make something that didn't look ugly... 
Lastly, I wanted to make his hair messier, but it would end up covering his beautiful face so I let it remain swept back - 3- (aka I couldn’t make it look nice).
So in terms of why Sebek might OB... he clearly has an intense, unresolved internal hatred for his human blood, due to the environment he grew up in. And the way he copes with these emotions is by taking it out on the people around him. It just seems like with the intensity of these feelings, if he were to keep it internalized, it would completely destroy him from the inside. And he just has NOT had the chance or know-how to learn to accept himself and therefore others. So of course, this is something he needs to work on but he definitely cannot do it alone. I think something traumatic does need to happen for him to realize and learn from his ways honestly. In terms of the canon, this will probably be due to Malleus' overblot or whatever shenanigans will happen in Book 7.... but Sebek himself overblotting would do just as well.
I think this fic does a really good job with building up Sebek's OB and his mindset throughout it all getting worse and worse... --> READ HERE It’s still in progress at the moment of posting but the after-blot plot is really wholesome too for us Sebek fans. EVEN IF you are not one you should still give it a read. (Just for full disclosure, my OB design is not based on the one described in this fic.)
Thank you for reading my rambles. I’ve got more angst coming ;>
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