#instead of the metal tails you know

[jiiyawns]

realized i can draw whatever i want and what i want is modern charas interacting with classic sonic

because he is so leetle

[outeremissary]

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Balthazar and Tristian!

I hope all is well in the once-Stolen Lands! The hardest part of moving back to Cheliax away from Mendev is the distance between my old diplomatic allies turned friends. On this day of love and friendship, I extend my most cheerful of celebrations to you two! Please take it easy today, the kingdom can afford one day of a break, Balthazar. I promise it’s not going to all fall apart. You’re lucky Tristian has the patience of a saint. 

Hopefully these gifts will give you an excuse to step off the throne for a little bit! The wine and cheese is local to Cheliax. Of course, I don’t know how it compares to what you guys produce over there, but I hope it at least is palatable enough for a date night! I’ve also sent along some books on ancient arcane rituals that might interest you - Regill would’ve insisted they be thoroughly examined for anything dangerous… which technically you can do. We won’t tell him. It’s wrapped in the fashion magazines last I picked up from Absalom - I hope I didn’t bend their pages doing so! I remember you also being really into that sort of stuff.  

I also sent along some balm I found when I was there for feathers. I can’t believe how soft it’s made mine, I really just had to pass it along to you too! I know what a huge pain it is to care for them, especially with your wings. Hopefully you find it useful! I’d love to come visit sometime - if you have any other world ending cataclysms, I’m just a Sending away!

-Warm regards, Minovae!"

My dear Minovae,

Though this letter falls into your lap a touch late for me to properly wish you well for the holiday, I can certainly send my hopes that you spent it pleasantly with that husband of yours. Though duty never takes a holiday, I must say you more than earned the rest. I can only hope you enjoyed a long and indulgent vacation for the holiday. Perhaps at the spas you have told me so much about, or maybe enjoying that evergreen Chelaxian theater scene (though I confess I can’t imagine Regill sitting through an opera without making his displeasure quite known). Tristian sends regards as well, and is with me insisting on knowing what I put down. He has doubts about some of the books, Minovae- you will have to reassure him when next you write.

As for us, you needn’t have worried. The toil of the realm is ceaseless, it’s true, but I do still know how to enjoy myself. Spending a day like that bent over petitions and tax documents… if that ever happens, I’ll be the first calling for revolution. No, we didn’t do even a little work on the date, I’m happy to say. Tristian even came back to bed after dawn prayer- the closest to sleeping in I think we manage. It was a fairly quiet affair this year (no travel or shows this time around), but the time in was well spent. I’m sorry to have missed your gifts on the day! I do miss the cuisine of the Inner Sea- the wine and cheese would have been an excellent addition to the evening. You speak far too modestly of your gifts. It will be a long while before anything as fine emerges here.

At any rate, between the fine southern vintage and the news of Absalom, you’ve awoken something of a nostalgia in me. You’re in danger of playing host rather than visitor if this continues. I only half jest- I’ve been playing with the idea of some “diplomatic tour” as excuse for a while now. But I suspect you can tear yourself away from your post somewhat easier than I, and we would be happy to have you again even sans cataclysm. Here- I’ve sent some things along that might tantalize you. That pendant should be a lovely complement to your eyes- though it’s been some time, I should think I remember their color well enough. It was crafted by one of the artisans near Lake Silverstep, who sought to capture the silver-blue of the mountains not only in the frame for the gem but that thread-thin chain as well. What a lovely coincidence that hue is also counted among your scales! The music box is Pitaxian and is from both of us- there have always been renowned instrument crafters in the city, but what a delight to see the songs themselves captured, yes? And speaking of the region… a lovely Sarain white. I’ve no local cheese to send to pair it with, sadly. At times like this I wish that Jubilost were still here. Much as he could be an insufferable ass, if you could sit through his scoffing at your ignorance there really was no one better at finding the right local complement for any vintage (Tristian wishes you to know he strongly objects to my word choice, though he cedes Jubilost could be “somewhat overbearing”). At any rate, the vintage is citrusy, a touch dry, and pairs well with something salty but mild. If you’re near enough to Westcrown, I’ve also heard it works splendidly with oysters.

Yours truly,

Balthazar and Tristian

P.S. The balm really is a marvel. You’ll have to tell me where you got it, as I’m already sure I’ll mourn its absence when it’s gone.

(author's note: I wrote the tags before the letter and now I'm too scared of them to change them whatever's happening down there is happening)

[lqveharrington]

Nothing Left to Lose | L.M.

summary: You and Lucifer have an argument about the exterminations that happen in Hell, and it just so happens your daughter heard you through the crack of the doorway.

pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Wife!reader

includes: ANGST, couples arguing, charlie basically being the family’s mediator and glue, some fluff, (let me know if i missed any!)

a/n: i’m on a hazbin streak omg 💁‍♀️

“Lucifer, stop!”

You were in a fight for what seemed like the nth time in a month. It had been exactly 3,500 years since you and Lucifer were cast out of Heaven to rule over the hellborne and sinners. This kept your patience thin the entire month. Especially with Lucifer pushing and pushing for a better way to have sinners saved from exterminations and sending them to Heaven completely broke you.

“Just stop.” You lean against the railing of your balcony, hands gripping on the metal. “Heaven won’t listen to us—“

“They will if we just ask for a meeting.” He ran his fingers through his ruffled hair, growing frustrated at your unwavering discouragement. “We’ve done this before. They listened and—“

“LOOK WHERE THAT GOT US!” You throw your hand up in frustration, eyes flashing crimson for one second. “They cast us away for caring for the human souls on Earth! What are they going to do to us when we send sinners up to Heaven?”

“I don’t know!” Lucifer let his horns poke out, tail whipping violently. “I don’t know, but if we don’t try—“

“Mom?” A quiet voice came through the yelling match you and Lucifer started, making you both turn to the door. “Are you okay?”

You rub your temple before stepping away from the balcony, not sparing a glance at your beloved. “I’m fine, baby. Your dad and I are just talking.” You take her in your arms, running your fingers through her blonde locks.

She looked back at her father, watching him sigh before his horns and tail disappeared. “Is Dad okay?”

“I’m fine, apple pie.” He kissed her forehead, making her giggle at the feeling. “Can you let us have a few more minutes? We’ll come find you when we’re done.”

“Okay.” Charlie gave you both curious looks, not realizing the tense situation she walked in on.

You press a kiss to her temple, “Wait in your room, baby.”

Charlie silently left as you stood from your previous position. You moved back to the balcony, messing with the wedding ring on your finger as the wind blew roughly on your skin.

“My love, we have nothing left to lose if we take this risk and ask for our people to be redeemed instead of letting them die again.” Lucifer took your hands in his, speaking softly this time.

Your crimson and gold eyes meet his, “We risk Charlie, Lucifer. What if they take her away from us?” You shut your eyes, hiding the red sky from your sight. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to go up there and face the Heavens when my daughter is hellborne. What if the exterminations keep happening even if they accept your proposal? They might target us—“

“I signed the papers, they know they can’t touch the hellborne or our family.” He squeezed your hands. “Just—“ Lucifer let his head fall on your shoulder. “Let me try. If it doesn’t work, we’ll come up with another solution.”

“Luce…” You murmur, blinking back the tears from the fear of losing your family. “I can’t lose you or Charlie.”

“And you won’t!” He cupped your face, frowning at your words. “You will never lose us. I promise, beautiful…” He rubbed your cheek, “I know you hate the Heavens for casting us here. I know you hate being here. But these souls are our people. We have a duty to protect them.”

“Lucifer…” You sigh and hold his hands in yours. “You need to listen to my reasoning. What if the Heavens refuse to do this and make the exterminations worse than they already are? We can’t know what they might do to our people! To our daughter!”

Lucifer removes his hands from you, “Can you just listen to me?” He walks toward the other end of the balcony, leaning against the railing. “This is a situation where we never know what’s going to happen. It might be good, it might make things worse. But we can’t know unless we try.”

You watch him run his fingers through his disheveled hair, knitting your brows at his actions. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He nods slowly, looking up at you. “I can do it?”

You nod, wringing your hands together. “I trust you… If you say we’ll be okay then… You can go through with your plans.”

“Thank you, my love.” He took long strides over to you and scooped you up in his arms, peppering kisses over your face. “Thank you.”

“Mhm.” You smile and thread your fingers in his hair, “Let’s go find Charlie, darling.”

“Our caring little girl.” He nudged your cheek with his nose. “Who might be as strong-willed as her mother.”

“Hush.” You press a soft kiss to his lips.

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[yanderenightmare]

TW: NSFW, noncon/dubcon, yandere, captive reader, light bondage, alcohol, misogyny/chauvinism

fem reader

You didn't know such a normal guy could turn out to be so insane. 

But thinking about it, you realized his actions had always seemed a bit too timed. As though he’d practiced – the awkward smile, the sorry laugh, the small apologies, even the blush, and those giddy puppy eyes – creating the perfect disarming cute goof you’d never possibly find threatening even in the slightest despite him being a tank of a man.

He'd been so sweet – so boyfriendly and kind. 

His behavior was just disturbing now. Acting normal with you – ignoring how he’d tied your wrists up too tight...

The room was dim – moody, with the movie playing loud in front. He had his heavy arm resting around your shoulders with your body placed snugly into his side – uncomfortably so. He’d duct-taped your mouth shut a while ago after he’d grown tired of your crying – having stuffed one of his socks in there first.

He gripped a sixth or seventh beercan in his other hand, the one not currently squeezing your upper arm – letting it rest on the dungaree of his thigh, making a dark blue ring where the dewdrops had slid down.

Something happened in the movie you were too tense and panicked to watch, but either way, whatever it was, it seemed to make him lose interest – scoffing out a gruff “Puh-” before raising his beer to his lips, chugging the rest of it down before slamming it to the ground.

“This movie is fucking boring-”

You flinched and would probably have screamed too if you could – all your nerves making you feel sick, close to giving out at the sound of the crash. Your eyes peeled with terror and tears, watching the empty can slowly roll around to a stop on the wooden floors.

He groaned, using his free hand to grab his groin – giving it a tug and shake, manspreading a little wider than what he was already.

Then, he lazily flipped the tail of his belt out of the loops, popping the buckle with a clatter of metals.

You wanted to whine or will yourself to move, but you knew it would only end in more bruises – so instead, all you dared do was breathe a little faster through your nose.

The hand kept at your arm brushed past your shoulder to cup your head, messaging your scalp in big fingers – with such pressure, it made your entire head bobble on your neck. The other hand undid his button and unzipped his fly – then moved to hook the rope tying your wrists together, pulling them to the bulge for you to finish the job.

You didn't refuse, wishing to keep him calm – so you dipped past the band of his boxers with shaking hands, put trembling fingers around his thickened shaft, and gently pulled him out.

He gave a rusty sigh, releasing a damp and sour breath of beer that clouded your head.

Grimacing at the stench, you nearly made the mistake of coughing as your fingers enveloped his fat erection in both hands – intertwined with each other neatly down along his shaft.

He jerked his hip, prompting you to start – stroking up slowly and down again, rubbing over forked veins plump with blood, making him stiffen harder in your grip – soon so hard it stood on its own in your hands, pilling with precum getting caught on your digits.

He pulled your head to his chest and rested his chin upon your cheek – watching your small hands work his cock – your skin so smooth and good compared to his, caressing him so tenderly in such a sweet and loving way.

You listened to his heart hammer on your ear, pressed tight against the tough muscles of his torso with his prickly chin stubble digging into the soft side of your face. The whole position was awkward, but you kept your hands going – rubbing him like you knew he liked until his hands gripped your arm and pulled you off, planting both paws on your hips as he lifted you onto his lap – your thighs spread to straddle him.

He'd been keeping you in just a silk babydoll – one he could easily lift for his pleasure. Gruff fingers rubbed the glassy texture of it before slipping beneath the light thing – gliding up your thighs to hold you by the fat of your ass.

He pulled you forward – tight – close enough for him to lick your collar and bite onto the strap on your shoulder – pulling it aside for him to suck your sweet little nipple into his mouth.

Your nails pressed smiles into your palms, looking down at him suckling new blotches into your sensitive skin as he rolled your nip between his teeth teasingly with a lusty growl – his hand making moves beneath the skirt of your nightie, grabbing his shaft and pushing it immaturely against your unprepped pussylips – forcing a kiss to your taut entrance before further driving himself inside you.

You couldn’t help the sounds now – whining out a pained moan into your gag as you doubled over against his chest, soon sobbing on his shoulder as he nudged himself nice and deep against your womb – fitting snuggly in your tight-knit walls.

He paid your wails no mind. Squeezing the soft flesh of your butt in his hand, with the other coming to join the action once more – digging his fingers into the supple flesh and making you rock back and forth on his lap – feeling as though he was ripping your hole apart.

“It’ feel better if you just got wet like you used to-” He said casually – fucking your dry cunt like he did your dry palms earlier. You don’t think it bothers him at all as long as it’s tight.

But soon, the slick started to form anyway, like it always did whether you wanted it or not – a protective maneuver your body conditions itself with to make the assault feel somewhat less miserable.

“There you go- now you’ll feel good, so stop your crying.” He cooed, raising a hand from beneath the tent of your dress, wrapping it in the hair at the back of your skull, forming a fistful of it – pulling you from his chest to lash your neck full of new lovebites.

He started making you hop now instead of riding – aiding you by the hand lifting your ass and the other pulling your hair. He jerked his own hips to meet you, slamming your poor cervix like a punching bag – he knows that’s how he makes your pussy cry boohoo, soaking his cock with pleasant warmth. 

A moan springs from your throat each time it runs you through – feeling it kick you in the stomach each time you slapped down on his lap – and soon you gushed in spite of it, abruptly halting your tempo before squirting violently – quaking in spasms, tits doing spins with him buried up to the hilt.

“That’s it- that’s my little whore-” He purred with a rumble in his chest, humming at the feel of your tight cunt fluttering from orgasm as you leaked sweet pussyjuice on his jeans. “Now, that’ll never get boring.”

He unraveled the fist in your hair and began petting your back, letting you slump back against his chest as he kept doing slow lifts with his hips to squeeze into you despite being swallowed down to the base – leaving your cunt now would just be a waste of a nice throttle.

“Since your mouth’s in a timeout, I think this pussy’s the winner of today’s load- fuck knows you deserve it after that.” He continued in a strained voice – the length of his cock desperately curling to make space for its whole length, stretching your gummy walls until they stung from the workout, making you buck your hips in revolt.

But he only took it as an eager approval of his comment. Leaving his prints on your ass with how hard he clawed his hand into it while his other arm hugged you tightly to his chest – keeping you seated and himself bottomed out as his cock sprung within in you, busting out thick hot ropes of cum deep inside the comfort of your tight cunt.

He held you there long enough to make the ache of it mellow out into a numb tickle – feeling just the warmth as he finally slumped out.

Face dewy, still with a taped x marking your lips. The pain had made you nearly chew right through the sock stuffed in your mouth, but now you just sucked on it – jaw lax from exhaustion where your head felt heavy, resting on his shoulder. 

He panted for a few minutes, sweaty hands rubbing circles into your equally slippery skin until announcing, “It’s almost dinnertime, huh?”

Your eyes kept blinking softly, feeling the slow trickle of cum leave your cunt along with wetness of your own, seeping out onto the softening cock keeping warm between your thighs.

You barely even jolt when his hand comes down on your ass in one of his kinder slaps.

“How ‘bout we untie those hands again so you can shimmy this little ass into the kitchen, hm? I’m starving.”

BNHA – Kirishima, Hawks, Bakugou, Natsuo, Dabi, Mirio, FatGum

JJK – Naoya

HQ – Ukai, Daichi, Iwaizumi, Matsukawa

[mysicklove]

𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄

DAY 1 : PET PLAY

With: Izuku Midoriya and Katsuki Bakugou

Word Count: 5.0k

Warnings: sub! izuku and katsuki, gn! reader, collars/leashes, dog ears, reader forces katsuki to bark, reader is purposefully mean to izuku, mlm (they are forced to makeout), hand jobs, slight orgasm control, tons of sappy nicknames

A/N: hi guys!! welcome to day 1!! fun fact, this randomly got posted in the middle of the night some random day in september. fuck tumblr que, idk what happened. but here we are LOL

You'll never get used to it. Having two pro-heros as your dogs. Kneeling at your feet, only in their boxers, silently waiting for their owners command. It was a dopamine rush every time the three of you went into this headspace.

They both had on their designated personally designed collars. The sweet one had a red leather one, that complimented his pleading green eyes perfectly. The brat wore a light pink sparkly collar. He had fumed the first time he saw it, yelling at you to fuck off and refusing to put it on. But after you put a muzzle on him the rest of the night, he shut his mouth. He still gets pissed when you clip it on him, but instead grumbles to himself, not wanting to risk the horrible metal muzzle. Besides, he knows you only do it to get a rise out of him. So on most nights you gave him his usual black spiked collar. Obviously tonight you were feeling more teasing.

The muzzle and a gag lay next to you in case either of them decide to act out. Izuku of course wouldnt ever dare to purposely disobey in this mental state. But he had a huge problem of talking. Dogs arent supposed to talk, so next to you lays a cartoon bone shaped gag, waiting to be put into Izukus mouth. 

Tonight the two of them were leashed together, a pretty but simple black leash divided into two different clips. Their section was small, so the two of them were forced to sit shoulder to shoulder with one another to prevent pulling at the leather. 

They also wore their puppy ear headbands, just because you were feeling special today. Izuku has green floppy ears, and Katsuki, blonde pointy ones. You also had tails designed for them, but that would involve some…prepping. So the collars, ears, and leash were enough for today.

You sit on the bed, crossed legs, with you wrapped around the end of the leash. You give it a hesitant tug and the two of them collapse forward, Izuku with a small whine and Katsuki with a glare, immediately bringing himself back onto his knees, pulling Izuku with him.

You reach forward to pat the both of them on the head. Izuku preens, looking down with clenched fist and a blushing smile. Katsuki looks away with a huff, but you know thats the best you'll get out of him. 

“Look at my boys,” You coo, “You guys are so precious.” You gently pull the leash upward so that the two of them are forced to look up at you.

Izuku beams at you, feeling himself buzz from the praise. “Thank you, Y/N! I want to be good for you today! Even Kacchan says he does too–” You give him a sickly sweet smile, nodding your head and humming at him. He is completely unaware of you trailing your hand toward the gag, waiting for him to finish his rambling so you can shove it on him. 

Katsuki’s eyes flicker to your hands immediately and his eyes widen. It doesn't take much for him to realize his situation. The two of them are tied together. That definitely means something, and Izuku hasn't seemed to realize it yet. 

The two of them were in this together. If Izuku gets punished, the chances of the metal muzzle coming on are high. “We will be your good-”

Katsuki flings his hand over the others mouth, the force of it pushing Izuku over. The blonde topples forward with him, from the short binding leather. Izuku lands on his back and Katsuki lands on top of him with a groan.

You laugh hysterically and the boys both flush in embarrassment, making eye contact with eachother. Katsuki quickly pulls himself up and Izuku is forced to follow – not that he minded. They sit back on their knees both red in the face, looking at the ground, too embarrassed to look at eachother. 

You pat the blondes hair, and he gulps. “Good boy, Katsuki! Poor Izu almost got gagged, that would be too bad, right puppy?” You smile, turning your gaze to the freckled boy who is nodding his head frantically, hating the gag as much as Katsuki hates the muzzle. It makes his jaw hurt, and the drool is humiliating.

You continue to run your fingers through Katsukis hair as a reward and he unconscioully leans into the touch, still unused to the praise. “I guess we don't need a muzzle today either!” Red eyes widen and he tries not to seem to excited at the thought. He gulps, and looks away, clenching at the thin fabric that fails to cover his leaking cock. You chuckle at him, leaning forward to press a kiss to his temple. Izukus eyes flicker to you, clutching his fist to hide his obvious jealousy of the affection.

“What should I do with the two of you?” You hum, admiring the leash in your hand. The boys gulp, and Izuku wants nothing more than to speak, so he bites his tongue to keep himself silent. Katsuki grows weary, wondering what type of mood you were in today.

“Should I make the two of you fuck eachother?” Izuku whines, leaning forward to rest his head on your knee, to wordlessly show his disapproval. You chuckle and bring your hand to his curly green hair, and notice that Katsuki is scowling at you, having the same view. 

You know they prefer it when you are involved. They always complain its not as fun without you, and besides who would give them orders? What will two dogs do without a owner to command them?

“Alright, I've got an idea.” They peer up at you, Izuku still in your lap. “We are going to do some training!” They both flinch, eyes flickering to each other in a silent agreement. This will most likely be something not so pleasant. “I was thinking we try some obedience exercises? C'mere get on the bed you two.”

Katsuki begins to stand and you yank the leash forward, causing the both of them to fall over, foreheads resting next to the carpet. “I don't remember dogs standing.” The blonde fumes, trying not to yell at you. He hates being dragged around.

Izuku paws at the edge of the bed, glancing back at Katsuki to follow. He rolls his eyes with a grumble, but follows behind, on his hands and knees as well. Izuku sits so close to you, that he is practically in your lap. He seems to be vibrating with excitement, hoping you will be kind to him today. You rub his cheek, and he beams for you, nuzzling into your hand.

Katsuki, dramatically, sits as far away as he can, which isnt far due to the leash attached to Izuku. You smile at him at he gulps. “C'mere Kats,” You say, patting your lap.

He nods hesitantly, and climbs into your lap, looking away when you kiss his cheek. Izuku lets out a small whine and rests his hand on your thigh, obviously jealous of the positioning. “We are gonna play a little game.” Red eyes catch yours. “I am going to give out an order and the both of you are to follow them. Easy right?” 

Katsuki pauses for a second. Following commands was what he struggled with the most. His pride always got the better of him. He gulps, but nods.

Izuku on the other hand, is nodding his head with a grin. This was easy for him, and he was always happy to please you. Just a couple of orders and then you will get to touch him. He could do that with his eyes closed. 

“Good boys! Now paw.” You set the leash down and hold out both of your hands flat. Izuku rests his hand in yours in an instant, leaning in closer to hopefully get praised. Katsuki glances at you, and then the hand, and silently places his open hand on yours. He looks away while doing it, slightly embarrassed. 

“Good job Katsuki!” You praise, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. He grumbles under his breath, but the tips of his ears go pink. Izuku leans forward and waits for you to kiss his own cheek, but you don't make an effort to look at him. He whines for it, and you glance at him, a malicious smile on your face. “Dont be spoiled Izuku,” You coo, pickingup the leash and gently pulling on it, causing the both of them to lean closer.

Izuku slightly pouts, but nods. Katsuki feels uneasy; Izuku always gets praised. Something was going on. 

“Alright. Now kiss.” In an instant Izuku is pouncing on the other, and Katsuki topples over at the force of the movement. He lets out an annoyed groan when Izuku's lips lock desperately with his. Izuku on the other hand is moaning into it, slightly dramaticizing the sound to hopefully coax something out of you. 

You sit and watch, trying to not laugh at how different the two are in this situation. Izuku seems to be suffocating Katsuki with his tongue, while the blonde is pushing on his chest to force him off. “Alright, enough,” You command, and just like that, Izuku is pulling away, grabbing Katsuki by his collar, and pulling him up with him.

Izuku this time crawls into your lap, practically purring from how content he feels in the position. But to his dismay, you shoo him off, pushing at his chest with a stern glare. “Did I say you can sit there, dog?”

He gulps, hands trembling, and surprised at your tone. Not only that, but you called him, dog. Not puppy, or sweet boy, his usual nicknames that you give him. Did he do something bad?

Katsuki glances at him, kinda feeling a bit bad for him, but not bad enough to say anything. He feels your hand grab at his collar, and force him forward until he is in your lap again, your hand petting his hair. He peesr back at Izuku who was dragged forward, and looking up at Katsuki with hurt eyes. Jealousy, most likely, and maybe confusion of why the blonde gets to sit there and not him. 

“Speak, Puppy,” You demand, tapping on Katsukis jaw. 

Izuku makes a frantic woofing noise, loud enough that your eyes trail to him. The scarred hand is back on your thigh, and big green eyes peer up at you. Your facial expression doesn't change, but your words cut him like ice. “I didn't ask you to bark, mutt.” You turn back to Katsuki, ignoring the pleading stare from your right. “Speak, Katsuki.”

Bakugou pauses, his face flushed in embarrassment. This is where things got tricky. He would rather die than do something so humiliating. It was one thing to put the ears on and “look” like a dog, but to act like one is some sort of degrading thing. His pride would never let him do something as pathetic as that.

He scowls at his hands, avoiding the burning gaze on the back of his neck. You hum at him, grabbing his chin, and forcing him to look at you. “Katsukiiii,” You purr, hoping to encourage him. 

He shakes his head, huffing out, and ignoring your words. The force of your hands on his jaw gets rougher, and the blonde knows you are beginning to lose patience. He can see Izuku begin to squirm uncomfortably, waiting for him.

Your eyes peer into his, and your words come out slow, every syllable seeming to have a command behind it. “C’mon puppy,” You murmur, “bark for me.”

A couple seconds go by and he doesn't make a noise. You sigh and let go of his chin. “Well, I guess nobody gets to cum tonight. How sad, I was so excited to play with you guys.” 

Izuku grabs onto Katsuki frantically, eyes wide and pleading. He has been waiting for this all week, no way was he willing to give it up for his childhood friend's pride. They were being treated like dogs for god sake, the first step was giving up your ego for pleasure.

The blonde glares at Izuku, but then glances at you, who is beginning to reach forward and take off his collar. You were being serious, and that fact sent shivers down his spine.

“W-Woof?” 

It's quiet, meek and nervous. Izuku covers his mouth to hold back a giggle, watching the other turn a bright shade of pink. “Louder,” You encourage, resting your head in the palm of your hand, growing more and more entertained by the second.

“Woof. Woof,” He tries, but it sounds more robotic, than dog like. He grips at his boxers, and can feel tears of humiliation prick at his eyes. 

“Relax, Kats. What do dogs sound like?” You whisper, petting his head, and trying to hold back a coo, because of how tense he looks.

Izuku inches forward to the blonde, nodding at him when the two make eye contact. Katsuki gulps, and takes a deep breath. “Arf! Woof! Woof! Ruff?” 

You begin to laugh, and Katsuki wants to curl up in a ball and die. He feels Izuku's hand on hisback, patting it encouragingly, but he doesn't have enough energy to bite back at him. So he lets the green haired boy continue, waiting for your giggling to stop.

You pull at the leash, and the two come forward, looking at you. You dont spare Izuku a glance, focusing solely on Katsuki. “Good boy! You did so well for me!” You praise, giving him a peck on his mouth and ruffling his hair affectionately.

He tries not to let the praise get to him, but the tint of his cheeks say otherwise. “F-Fuck you,” Katsuki mumbles, gripping at your thigh. 

Izuku's eyes widen at the spoken words, and his eyes immediately flicker to the gag and muzzle. He also grabs onto your leg, hoping you wont use them. “Ah ah ah,” You tutt, “You know puppies dont speak. I'll forgive it just this once since you are doing so good for me.”

He nods, trying not to roll his eyes. “Now, lets get to the fun stuff. Katsuki definitely deserves a reward for passing his training! Right, Izuku?”

Whenever this is going, Izuku seems to not be involved. He gives you a sheepish glance, clinging closer to you. He was listening to, why isn't he getting a reward? And it didn't make sense, why were you calling him a mutt and dog, just previous to this. Katsuki was the one to get the harsh treatment by you due to his bratty nature, but Izuku didn't do anything wrong.

Red eyes meet green, and Izuku pauses. Then he sighs, and turns to you, nodding meekly. You barely look at him, but smile. “Now, lets get these off of you sweet boy,” You murmur, grabbing onto his boxers and beginning to pull them down. Katsukis eyes slightly widen, but he allows you to, jumping when the cool air kisses his skin.

Izuku stares from the spot behind the two. Watching the way Bakugou's boxers get tossed aside, and how your hand moves onto his thigh. But the only thought that was repeating in his head, was the name you called him. Sweet boy.

It was his. You have never called Katsuki that, because Katsuki isn't sweet. He isn't the docile and obedient one, the sweet one. Why are you calling Katsuki by his named? It didn't make any sense, and Izuku felt himself bite the inside of his cheek.

“Cmon, show Izuku your pretty cock, Katsuki,” You tease, turning him around in your lap, so that his back is touching your chest. The two of them make eye contact, and Katsuki is the first to fume red, hiding his face into your neck while his cock stands proudly on display. Izuku whines, feeling his own pulse against the thin fabric of his briefs. 

Your hands travel to Katsukis dick, forming a makeshift hole, and beginning to stroke it up and down. “Lets test how trained you are Izuku.” He perks up at his name, practically vibrating that you finally acknowledged him. “No touching yourself till Katsuki cums. Easy right?” He pauses, frowning slightly. This is what he struggled with the most. How needy he gets.

It's not his fault, but the second he gets into bed with you or Katsuki, he just gets…excited. Constantly thinking about how quickly he can cum, and how many times he can go without falling asleep. His sex drive was high, although he gets too embarrassed to admit it. But you know him well enough by now.

“If you don't, the two of you dont get to cum for two weeks.”

Two pairs of eyes snap toward you in an instant. A threat like that would practically kill Izuku, and Katsuki also was not in favor of waiting that long. The two of them make a silent agreement, and Izuku slowly places his hands behind his back, clasping them together and waiting. If they dont stray from this position, it will be fine.

You grin at him, but then focus your attention on Katsuki. You open his thighs, slapping him gently when he tries to close them from embarrassment, to give Izuku a full view. One of your hand finds his nipples, and the other wraps around his cock.

Izuku stares at your slow, sensual movements. The way your hand pumps Bakugou, and the way the blonde lets out a shaky breath. He is still tense under Izuku's view, but Izuku assumed he would be. Katsuki got nervous being watched, and you liked to exploit that. You always teased him about how cute he was, even when the blonde scowled at you with a pink face.

Even now, Katsuki seemed to have a pinched brow. He glances at Midoriya, baring his teeth slightly, and then looking away. He probably didn't like how vulnerable he was right now. The only one naked, and getting touched. 

Izuku would kill to be in his position.

“There you go. Feeling better now, puppy?” You coo, pressing light kisses onto his neck. He seems to melt at the sweet words, hating how easy it was you to make his heartbeat to pick up. He nods slightly, and finally falls slump against your chest, trying his best to ignore Izuku's ruthless stare.

Your hand rubs over the head, thumbing at the slit, and then moves back down to pump him some more. Your other hand cups his balls, and begins to fondle them gently. His breath begins to pick up from the intense feelings, and his hips begin to rock into your hand. Katsuki’s eyes fall shut, and he rests the back of his head on your shoulder, slightiy tilting his head upward.

And as Katsuki finally begins to relax, Izuku finds himself growing uneasy. He gulps, and glances at his briefs, sighing when he sees the dampening spot from where his cock lay. He was too hard, and the boxers were making him uncomfortable. He wants them off.

But he is not willing to risk it. So he plays with his hands behind his back, and shutters whenever he hears Katsuki moan out. He inches closer to the two of you, just until his knee touches the blondes upper leg.

A drop of pre leaks from the blondes tip, and both Izuku and Katsuki make a noise. Katsuki a groan, and Izuku, a pained whine. He was unbelievably jealous, and every cell in his body screamed at him to touch himself. Make the pain go away. Bakugou gets to feel good, why cant he?

“F-Fuckkkk,” Katsuki groans out, and you laugh, and then tilt his head to to the side, and press your lips onto his. Izuku makes a choked yelp, eyes widening and hands coming undone to grip at your shirt. It's not fair. It's not fair. It's not fair. His cock was weeping by now, begging for any sort of touch, and it hurt.

But you didn't care, and the sloppy noises of you are Bakugou's lips together made him let out a shaky, hurt breath. Katsuki grabs onto the back of your neck, pulling your closer, and opening his mouth to slip his tongue in yours. The hand hasn't stopped its motions and Izuku can hear the slight whimpers the blonde unconsciously lets out. The whimpers that go straight to his trapped dick.

Izuku glances at you, and then his black briefs. You weren't looking, obviously very much distracted with Katsuki, and he could easily touch himself without you knowing. Just a graze of his palm, thats all he needed. Something to ease the intense discomfort. His hand inches from hid thigh, and closer to his cock.

But you seemed to read his mind, pulling away slightly, and peering back at him. Katsuki is panting, and moaning into your neck, while your eyes glance at the scarred hand. “Whatcha doing, mutt? Can't go a couple minutes without touching yourself? You are acting more like a bitch in heat, than a puppy. Isn't that right, Kats?”

Katsuki doesn't really seemed to care, just nodding slightly and bucking his hips into your closed palm. He was only thinking about his own pleasure, but he agrees anyways with a low groan.

Izukus eyes widen and he pulls his hand away in an instant, tears welling up from frustration and your words. He shakes his hand frantically, leaning in closer to hopefully convey how desperate he was. He didn't touch himself; he listened to you.

“No. Keep your hand there, dog,” You scold, and Izuku nods quickly, scrambling to place his hand back onto his thigh. Inches away from his dick. 

You nod, and then suddenly, without letting either of the boys know, push Katsuki onto Izuku. Not hard, just enough for the blonde to balance either arms on Izuku's shoulders. His frame casts a shadow on the freckled boy, and he looks up to see Katsukis flushed appearance staring down at him. His ruby eyes are widen slightly in shock, but his mouth is open, and he is panting.

But the worst thing about it all, was that Katsuki's bare cock was meerly inches from his. Your hand remains wrapped around it, and once situated, begins to pump again. It sends Katsuki groaning, and resting his head on Izuku's neck.

Izuku's hand twitches, and he bucks his hips up into the air, just centimeters from touching Katsuki. He feels a drop of pre hit his thigh, and he whimpers, closing his eyes to pretend it doesn't exist. It's not fair. Its not fair. Its not fair.

“Open your eyes Izuku. Look at how pretty Katsuki looks.”

He shakily nods, and tears begin to drip down his face. This was mean. Jacking Katsuki off basically inches away from his own throbbing cock. Izuku didnt deserve this. He knows he didnt deserve this.

He feels Katsukis hot breath on his neck, and he shivers. Green eyes dont leave the lewd sight in front of him, and he feels like he is going insane. His hands begins inches his way toward his bulge, and he gulps, shivering when it comes closer and closer to the spot that will make all the pain go away.

Katsuki, takes notice to this quickly, and pins the hand to his thigh before he could reach it. “Dont you fucking dare,” he hisses into Izukus ear, quite enough so that you dont hear. Red eyes glare up at him, and Izuku looks away.

He feels angry at Katsuki’s words. How mean he was being, when he was getting all the praise and touch. They are supposed to share you, how was this fair? “You don't understand what I'm going through,” Izuku mumbles back, his tearful eyes glaring at him.

“I fucking–” You cover his mouth before he could say anything. Katsukis lidded eyes sneer at him, but they seem to roll back when you thumb at his tip.

“Are you two fighting?” You question, gently squeezing the head a little too hard in warning. Katsuki lets out a whimper, and the both shake their heads frantically, slightly panicked on what you would do if you found out.

You hum, and continue your movements. The blonde sighs out, and you release your hold on his mouth. But, his hand continues to stay on top of Izuku’s, not letting him move.

Midoriya's hand twitches from beneath his, and he nearly jumps out of his skin when he feels your hand on his leg. His eyes widen, and he shivers under the lightness of your touch. It barely grazes the surface, and it sends a lightly ticklish feeling up his spine. It was moving closer to his bulge, an obvious tease, and Izuku feels himself begin to pant. He wants to touch himself so badly. Tears continue to fall down, and he screws his eyes shut with a sniffle.

Katsuki on the other hand, seems to be in heaven. He has a slight grin on his face, and he's moaning out with every stroke. He is approaching his high in a matter of seconds. You take notice to the way his body begins to jerk, and the slight higher pitch in his moans. “Do you want to cum, Katsuki?”

He nods his head slowly, breathing into the crook of Izuku's neck, while the other trembles. “Then beg.”

He sighs, but then immediately begins his frantic words. “I need–” You send a slap to his thigh, and he yelps, turning back to you and scowling.

“Don't be a brat. Beg like a dog,” You scold, tone fierce toward him for the first time tonight. It surprises him, and your eyes travel down toward the leash, threatening to grab it if he doesn't abide.

But Bakugou was already at his limits. He was going to cum any minute now, so he doesn't care about his pride any longer. Tears begin to coat his own eyes, and he flushes with embarrassment. “Woof! Arf! Arf! Woof!! P-Please!”

A tear drop lands on Izuku's face, and his whole body tenses. Katsuki looked…so pretty like this. He needs to readjust his pants, he needs to take off some of the weight. He feels tight, sticky from the amount of pre trapped in the fabric with him. And the noises Katsuki is making, makes his head spin, and sweat bead at his temples.

“Of course Katsuki, good puppy, you can cum all you want.”

You grab onto his cock, and give it a couple more pumps, before directing it toward Izuku's crotch. Within seconds of your premission, Bakugou buries his teeth into Izuku's neck, and moans. Its loud, but muffled by the skin. His whole body trembles, and cum flies out and lands on top of Izuku’s boxers.

Midoriya heaves, eyes widening as he watches Katsuki. He shivers at the feeling of teeth in his neck, and holds back a cry. He feels a dampening feeling land on his clothed cock, and doesnt have to do much guessing what it is.

He glances at the pool of cum stuck on his boxers, and then back to you, and finally breaks down and sobs. “Please touch me! Woof! Woof! I cant–Arf! I'm going insane, owner, owner please please please!” He rambles, voice raw from his cries.. He continues to bark, mewl, make any sound to voice his desperation.

Katsuki comes down from his high when Izuku starts hiccuping. His mind is blank, but the sounds Izuku was making was pitiful, and it bugged him. He glances at you, and you nod. He slowly pulls away from the boy, and sits down next to him. He is exhausted, but very much content, basking in the post orgasm glow.

Then, you move toward Izuku, kissing his cheek while he sobs and pinches the skin of his thighs, probably trying to stop the urge from touching himself. You pet his head, stroking the fake ears, and run your finger under his collar. Then, you grab his hands and pull them away before he could hurt himself. He peers up at you, and sniffles, using the back of his hand to wipe the tears. “Did so well, sweet boy. I'm sorry, that was mean of me wasnt it? Do you want to cum?”

He lets out a meek, “Woof,” and cries into your neck, every part of his body shaking. He nods, and tears begin to stain your shirt. Even through it all, he played the role till the very end.

Your hand travels to the bulge, and he doesn't even get a moment to process it before he is cumming. His body shakes with tremors and he screams into your neck. Katsuki watches with wide eyes as Izuku stains his pants.

It's like you knew this was going to happen. You play with his hair and coo at him, and then turn to motion Katsuki forward. He stares at the trembling boy, but abides, resting his hands on your thigh. Izuku slumps onto you, hiccuping from his sobs, but finally looking content. He buries his face into your neck, practically wagging his tail.

You pat the both of them on the head. “Good job, my adorable little puppies. Now was that so hard?”

They both look up at you, and give you the most pathetic but meaningful glare two dogs could give you.

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[pandoraslxna]

Sinner and saint

Miles Quaritch x female omatikaya reader

Words: 2.4k

Summary: Quaritch captured the oldest daughter of Jake Sully, making it his personal goal to draw every bit of useful information out of her.

Warnings: explicit smut, minors dni, non-con, captivity / kidnapping, age + size difference, degradation kink, p in v, semi public sex, mirror sex, rough sex, corruption kink, mentions of blood, oral, blackmailing, unprotected sex

Notes: I wrote this instead of sleeping lol I just feel like there aren’t enough Quaritch fics so I had to do my part

Sully‘s daughter, the oldest of his spawn, put on a tough fight. But in the end, she sacrificed her freedom in order to protect her younger siblings, letting herself get captured by the RDA‘s recombinant squad. Quaritch himself was the one to throw her into a cell and he made it his personal goal to draw every useful information out of her, regarding Sully and his Clans location. The method he chose to do this, though, was entirely up to him. General Ardmore said so herself.

The cell is quiet, save for the sound of your own breathing and the faint noises coming from behind the door. By now you already know the gait of his footsteps, the heavy combat boots against the concrete floor. The door then slides open and an entirely too big recomb enters the room, bending over to even fit through the door frame.

Sully‘s brat was young. Not so young he should’ve felt creeped out by himself when his eyes lingered on your body for longer than necessary. But still a tad younger than him. He’s surprised you were even able to put on such a fight with his squad. Your limbs are long and thin, no board muscles in sight and he could’ve sworn your face wasn’t the one of a warrior, too pure and innocent looking. But apparently that’s what you were, a warrior, given the smeared remnants of war paint on your face and the way you easily put down three recombinants with your primitive weapons only. Parts of your hair are braided in intricate patterns, with colorful beads and feathers just like your mothers –the woman of Quaritch’s nightmares.

Big, scared eyes look up at him from under the table that’s standing in the middle of the room, trying your absolute most to look intimidating. How cute, he thinks to himself with a grin on his face. You’re left almost entirely bare before him, just the little loincloth and top your people usually wore, were covering your privat parts. A delightful sight. Nothing else but a few leaves and strings of leather. No wonder you’re shivering.

Like some cornered animal, you dart out from under your hiding place, once Quaritch approaches you, scrambling across the floor and towards the door. But you don’t make it very far. "Easy, Kitty," the recomb scoffs as he scoops you up like you weight no more than just a feather to him, before he roughly pins you down over the table. The metal is cold against the bare skin of your front and you hiss, struggling against the big blue hand on your back that’s holding you down without any effort.

"I just wanna ask you some questions and if you‘ll be a good girl and answer them, you’re free to go, back to your cute little family. Doesn’t that sound good?" It sounded more than just good, if you were being honest. But still, you weren’t even tempted to answer any of them. You weren’t that stupid and whatever those questions were about, you wouldn’t give them anything. You wouldn’t betray your family, even if it meant dying in this cell. You wouldn’t say a word– not over your dead body.

"Where’s your daddy, hm? Tell me where he hides, kitty and I’ll let you go", he tells you. You can feel the warmth of his entirely too tall body caging you in, invading your personal space. With every passing second, he inches closer to you, the hand on your back holding you down with more force, until you have trouble breathing.

"I will slice your throat, demon", you hiss at him in Na’vi and your tail whips around, almost hitting his face in the process. With a grunt, Quaritch wraps his hand around the base of your tail and tugs. It’s not too hard and not necessarily painful but still, you yelp and all your movements stop immediately. You feel frozen in place.

“You know, cupcake", he lowers his face closer to yours, his hot breath tickling the shell of your ear, making it twitch, "Capturing you really was something. Had me stressed the whole night and now three of my men are dead. The least you could do, is answer my questions." One of his boots swiftly kicks your legs apart and your eyes widen in fear.

"I have to have some way to deal with all this stress…”, he says lowly and your stomach twists when he tugs on your tail again and your back instinctively arches like a cat. “Lucky for both of us, I usually handle it by fucking.” He emphasizes the last word with a groan as he grinds his growing erections against your bottom.

"Well, do yourself a favor and fuck off then!", you hiss the words like venom but the recomb only laughs at your bitterness. "You really are your daddys girl, aren’t you?" You bite your tongue, preventing yourself from spitting any more insults at him and possibly getting into more danger than you already were.

"Well, better answer my question then. Or didn’t daddy teach you any manners, cupcake?"

Behind your back you hear the buckle of a belt being opened and then a zipper and your blood runs cold. For a moment, you think about lying. But would he even believe you? What if this was a trick? What if they already knew where your family was hiding? What if they managed to capture one of your siblings too and just wanted to see if your answers match? Lying could mean the death of either one of you, if that was the case. "Fine", the Colonel sighs when you don’t reply, "If you don’t want to make any noise, I‘ll have to draw them out of you."

You can feel his hand, the one that was holding your tail, lower itself to prod at your bottom. Expertly, he flips your loincloth to the side, exposing your privat parts to him. With a gasp, you want to push yourself off the table but his other hand still holds you firm and secure, bend over the table. "Now would you look at that", Quaritch muses, "What a pretty little pussy."

He moves back a little, just enough to unfasten his belt and zipper before he pulls his cock out, hard and leaking pre-cum from its tip.

"One last chance, kitty", you hear him chuckle behind you and then feel the head of his cock, thick and warm, nudge between your soft lips, prodding at your entrance. "Tell me where he is. Where is Jake Sully?" But stubborn as you were, your lips were still sealed shut.

Quaritch doesn’t know what outcome he would’ve preferred here –you giving him the much needed information about Sullys hideout or you keeping you mouth shut and letting him fuck you, until you were nothing more than just a cute little mess below him. He slowly starts to believe that it’s the latter.

A sick and twisted part of him wonders if you’re still a virgin, such an innocent, pure looking thing. Did you have a boyfriend back home? Would daddy even allow you to bring boys home? Quaritch wonders if you’re curious, did you kiss and touch them behind your fathers back or were you an obedient little girl? Never giving them much more than a quick glance to the sway of your hips or a tight hug that was nothing more than friendly to you, but gave them enough feel of your soft chest pressed against them so they could rub one out once they’re alone. God, he wants nothing more than to corrupt you. He can’t stop the grin spreading on his face when he imagines the look on Sullys face once he finds out about this– the man he wants dead ruining his perfect, precious daughter. Makes this whole thing even better.

With that thought in mind, Quaritch pushes the tip of his length past your entrance. He goes slow at first –he’s not a monster. He lets your body adjust to his size, letting his cock sink into the tight heat of your cunt and it’s rewarded with a high pitched whine falling from your plumb lips. The one way mirror in front of the table you were sprawled out on gives him a nice view of your face, eyes squeezed shut and with your lower lip sucked in between sharp teeth. When his pubic bone finally meets the swell of your ass, he groans and let’s his head fall back against his neck. For a moment he stays like this, just relishing in the feeling of your soft walls around his cock.

When he looks back down at you again, he finds you looking at him from over your shoulder. Your eyes are sharp and there’s a hint of desperation now as they glare back at him.

Quaritchs hand finds the plump swell of your ass and he caresses a cheek before giving it a hard smack. A sharp inhale of air is drawn in between your lips and you whine at the stinging pain cursing through your body. Your eyes go dark as you continue to look back at him.

The recomb tilts his head slightly, grinning, before returning his hands to your hips. He pulls out ever so slowly and for a moment, your gaze softens as if you believed it would be over so quickly. But then he’s ramming forward, burying himself inside you to the hilt. You hiss, stifling the scream that is threatening to escape from your lips and you grab at the edges of the table as you endure the waves of pleasure and pain as they come. 

You hear a mixture of a moan and a laugh coming from behind you and you shut your eyes tightly once he begins to fuck into to you in long, hard strokes, hammering your quivering hole. 

It doesn’t take long for you to moan, not able to hold back your bodies natural responds anymore. Much to Quaritch amusement.

"Where did all your bratty attitude go, hm kitty? Not so bitchy anymore, now that your cute little pussy is stuffed full of my cock!"

You know you aren’t going to last long. Not with the way he’s thrusting into you, not with the way you’re tightening around his cock, not with the way his balls slap against your clit, hard and rhythmic.

A pressure is building up inside you and you want to suppress it. You don’t want to come, don’t want to give him this satisfaction. But you can’t help it. It’s wrong, yet it feels so, so incredibly good. You clench around his hard cock forcing its way in and out of you and mindlessly, you push back against him, bratty and wanton. You’re rewarded with one of his hands darting to your head and yanking a fistful of your braided hair. Your head whips back violently and you accidentally bite down on the tip of your tongue with one of your canine. The coppery taste of blood floods your mouth and as he forces you to look at yourself in the mirror in front of you.

"See how fucking good you look? That’s much more how I prefer you, fuck yes, takin' me so well, like a good little girl", he groans behind you. Due to the strong thrusts of his hips against yours, the table beneath you begins to squeak and slide forward a few inches.

“T-Too much, 's too much”, you sob, swallowing back the metallic taste that sours your mouth when you feel your orgasm approaching.

He hammers into you and you can feel the pressure mounting as your legs begin to shake. You’re a little more than a trembling, incoherent mess when you cum, the walls of your pussy bearing down around his cock. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you would have collapsed on the table below you if Quaritch didn’t have such a firm grip on your hair and hip. 

"There we go, cupcake, there we fucking go."

He continues to fuck you, his thrusts have become painfully hard, too deep for your comfort, the tip of his cock teasing your cervix.

You let your head rest against the table, the side of your face pressed against the cool tabletop and the table’s edge digs into your abdomen and the tops of your thighs. You moan as he keeps his rhythm up, loud and shameless, squirming underneath him from overstimulation.

"Gonna cum, fuck kitty, you’re so tight I can’t help it. Gonna cum in that sweet little pussy, yeah?", he moans and you can feel his hands squeeze around your hips so hard, you’re sure they’ll leave bruises. Quaritch buries himself deep inside you one last time and then it fills you– warm and sticky cum filling you up to the brim, with a groan falling from his lips. His strong grip finally goes slack after a few shuddering breaths.

You feel like a warm puddle of goo when he pulls out of you. You’re still slick between your legs and feel his cum dribble out of you when he steps back. With his thumbs, the Colonel spreads your lips apart and hums at the sight of more of his release seeping out of your overused cunt.

You barely register it at first, the way he moves, circles the table like a shadow until he comes to an halt with his crotch right in front of your face. Your eyes widen when you find that he’s hard –again or still? You don’t know. Doesn’t really matter though. "Alright, cupcake, let me ask you again", with his hand he gives a slow, almost threatening, stroke of his cock right in front of your face, "Where is he? Where is Sully hiding?" Your eyes narrow as you look up at him, a glare contorting your otherwise soft features and you shake your head -no. You wouldn’t tell him anything.

Quaritch only chuckles at that. Oh he would have his sweet, sweet fun with you, you just didn’t know it yet. You swallow thickly when he steps closer.

"Open wide, kitty", he nudges the tip of his cock on your soft lips, his thumb prying your mouth open before he swipes his digit over your sharp canine. "And be careful with those. I‘ll be nice once. Then I won’t."

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

Yandere!Monster X Barbarian!Reader

❤️ Barbarian Reader who seems to have put all their stat points into Strength/Dex, and completely forgot Intelligence

💀 thembo.exe

❤️ A huge sweetheart, and I mean huge

💀 Was always the tallest in their village, towering over both women and men alike

❤️ Due to their height (Reader) had a lot more placed on their shoulders from a very early age

💀 Some internal reflection could have led to a deeper understanding of their secret yearning to rely on another person, but that sounds like a lot of work... And thinking...

❤️ Happy to be sent as part of their tribe's representation when meeting with a tribe of monsters despite knowing nothing about politics

💀 While the presence of the monster people caused visible discomfort in their fellow warriors, (Reader) was too busy being star struck to think about how easily this new species could kill them

Xyleth emerges from his tent, unimpressed with the shivering smooth skins before him. His form was only vaguely human in the front, with a gun metal blue chest and face, sparkling in the sun like his skin was dusted in finely crushed gems. However, his backside and limbs were armored in an inky black shell, spiked for protection along his joints and down his long tail, with bone colored claws adorning his claw like appendages. His eyes seemed black in the shade, but held a universe of stars in the light. Xyleth was born to be a leader, only the strongest of his species developed this coloring, separating him from the rest of his tribe whose shells were a sandy brown to hide in the desert of their home.

❤️ (Reader) didn't notice the congregation were speaking, still taking in the sights about them, before they finally looked forward, witnessing the tallest of the monsters

💀 (gasps) "Damn, you're huge!"

❤️ The barbarians gasp in horror, and flinch away from (Reader)

💀 Was this some sort of joke?

❤️ A tight smile formed on Xyleth's chiseled face. "Yes?"

💀 "Yeah, I thought I was big, but damn, you could crush me without breaking a sweat, huh big guy?"

❤️ What's this? Was this human attempting to flatter him? A war lord of a different species?

💀 No, (Reader) was genuinely impressed.

❤️ "And the point of you bringing this up, small one?" He asked, his on edge grin softening into an amused smile. Although he would have no interest in something not his own species, it was adorable how this human flirted with him so confidently (that's not what's happening)

💀 "Ah, no point. I'd love to wrestle you though!" (Reader) knocked their fists together, pumped at the idea of testing their strength against the beast

❤️ Xyleth and his guards were taken aback, Xyleth's tail smacking the ground with surprise. No one had ever been so brave, so brazen. Unknown to the barbarians, the armored monsters had a very unique mating ritual, similar to scorpions dancing while pressing up against each other to test the male's strength

💀 Despite (Reader) being taller than their fellow barbarians, they were still several feet shorter than Xyleth's shortest villager

❤️ But your personality... None of the women or men had ever approached Xyleth like (Reader) had (again, not what's going on..)

💀 Perhaps Xyleth would actually listen to the barbarians, instead of slaughtering them for having the audacity to request a conference with him like he originally planned

❤️ The barbarians were invited to stay with the rival tribe for a week as they discussed various topics (Reader) had no interest in

💀 (Reader) quickly became loved by the local children, the children adoring (Reader) as a human loves their pet puppy, allowing (Reader) to rough house with them and feeding them snacks like a stray

❤️ (Reader) did not find this insulting, and was enjoying the affection and attention they were receiving

Xyleth was bored in his meetings with the soft skins, upset that (Reader) wasn't involved. He had learned that (Reader) was brought in as the muscle, which irked him. Did they not research how giant his species were before arriving? What did they think someone as small and sweet and adora- Xyleth thumped his tail loudly, frightening the barbarians. Why couldn't he get (Reader) out of his head? "Let's continue this after lunch."

💀 Xyleth roamed his streets in search for (Reader). Although they weren't there as part of the 'debate team' it was a little upsetting that (Reader) wasn't at least waiting for Xyleth near the meeting tent seeing how enamored they were with him

❤️ (Reader) was found in a circle of chuckling adults, struggling with all their might to lift two children at the same time

💀 The sight immediately filled Xyleth's heart with warmth, seeing the children as their own for a split second, and picturing an entire future with the barbarian

❤️ He knew (Reader) would have no objections to becoming his mate, however their people might argue

💀 It didn't matter if he had to kill the other barbarians staying in his town, he had initially planned on slaughtering them anyhow, but it would be better if they enthusiastically supported their love

❤️ And they did support his proposal, especially since it was either trade (Reader) for their protection (from Xyleth's own tribe) on their hunting paths, or die right there and have their entire tribe extinguished

💀 What a supportive family (Reader) has~!

(Reader) didn't notice when the rest of their people left the village, still having the time of their life with creatures that more matched their strength and height. One of the kids gasped and wiggled his way out of (Reader's) arms, running away as his parents also turned back towards their homes. A large shadow approached the confused human, who got up, patting the dirt off their legs.

"Play fighting with young boys? Are you trying to make me jealous, little one?" Xyleth joked with a smile.

(Reader) felt their heart soar being called "Little One", relishing in the friendliness they experienced from the citizens the barbarians called monsters.

"Bwahahaha!!! Jealous? If I was as imposing as you, the only one who could make me jealous would be a god!"

Xyleth couldn't control his tail, whacking the ground in embarrassment over his love's honesty flirtatiousness.

"If it wouldn't be too inconveniencing, I would be honored to take you up on that wrestling proposition now.." He could hardly speak with how excited he was, fearful the adorable little human could hear his two hearts rapid beating.

"Really? Right now? I'm a little worn out, but I'll never turn down a challenge! Just don't be too disappointed!"

Xyleth picked (Reader) up in his arms, fighting every urge to take them right then and there in the center of his village.

"I could never be disappointed in you~" his deep voice vibrated against (Reader's) body, as he carried them to his tent, the poor human completely unaware of what he was about to do to them.

[kil-g]

surprise

a/n: i got too sad after writing that last thing and needed to do something silly

summary: there's a new member of the household and you have to convince simon to like them.

g!n reader; civvy!reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: simon being mean to a dog :(

---

“Hey, I’m…uh—I’m on my way home.”

“Oh!” You say. 

There’s a certain exasperation to your voice that makes him think that you’re somewhere that isn’t the house. He puts his phone down in the cupholder and places both of his hands on the wheel of the car.

“In an hour.”

“An hour?”

“An hour.”

“Could you fuck off somewhere and maybe make it, like an hour and a half?”

“I’d like to go home.”

“I know, yes. I know. It’s just that I have this whole thing planned and I need an extra thirty minutes. You’d be doing me a pretty big solid if you fucked off for a little bit longer.” 

“I’m tired and I’m hungry. I’m not gonna fuck off.”

“What, are we making this a race?”

“You can race. I’m going home.”

“Okay, we’re gonna race.” You say, halfway through laughter. 

“What are you doing?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“I don’t like surprises.” He says.

“Well, I love you and I need you to suck it up because it’s a pretty cool surprise.”

Simon blinks, keeping his eyes on the road. Then, he sighs and says, “I’ll see you at home.”

“Not if I see you first!” You reply, this time a little out of breath. 

“I’m not racing you.”

“Scared you’re gonna lose?”

“Goodbye.”

“Love you!” 

The line dies out.

Part of him wants to be annoyed. Surprises weren’t exactly his favorite thing in the world. He especially did not like such a surprise that would keep him from coming home after a very long month of trying not to die in a violent, fiery explosion. And, he deeply, desperately wanted to lie down in a bed with an actual mattress, real pillows, and clean blankets.

But, for the life of him, he could not think of anything more unbearable than the thought of letting you down.

It was almost laughable. Simon is first and foremost a soldier. And, when you’re a soldier first before anything else, like a friend, companion, romantic partner, let downs were par for the course. A birthday, an anniversary. Celebrating a promotion or any other achievement of the like. Those didn’t even come secondary or even tertiary on the line of things that needed to be cared about. 

And, the worst part, is that you tolerated it. Sure, there was a certain disappointment to a missed call or text. Despite that, you loved him with a stability that he couldn’t possibly be more grateful for. It made him feel almost normal. Normalcy was a luxury someone like him couldn’t typically afford.

So, before he pulls his car into the driveway, Simon mentally prepares himself to be open-minded. Whatever the surprise was, he would do his best to actually try and enjoy it. That is until he unlocked the front door to the house and stepped in, only to be greeted with the sight of a dog sitting up, barking at him from within a metal crate.

She was clearly still a pup. Her paws are far too big for the size that she currently was. And, the more clear it is that Simon was no threat to her, the more she cries to be let out. Though, Simon makes no move to do any such thing. Instead, he sits on the couch and looks back at her until eventually, she stops making noise all together and resolves herself to sit quietly. Each time Simon accidentally catches her eye, her tail wags, bumping against the floor of her crate softly.

This goes on for about twenty more minutes before a key turns in the door knob once again. You step through, carrying bags of groceries.

“Sweetheart.”

“Can you help me with these?” You say.

Simon gets up, takes bags out of your hands and walks them into the kitchen. “Why is there a dog in the house?”

You lean down to lift the latch off of the door and the dog comes barreling out. “You couldn’t have opened her crate up for her? Why were you just staring at her like a weirdo? It’s a dog.”

“Why is there a dog in the house?”

“It’s our dog.” From one of the bags you were still holding, you pull out a bag of dog treats and throw it at Simon. “Give her one of these so she knows you’re not a complete hardass.”

“I’m not giving it anything.”

“Simon.”

He looks back at you. And, from the way you stare back at him, it becomes more and more clear that this dog is one of the very very few things that you simply won’t back down on.

In fact, there were toys all over the ground. He’s not sure how he didn’t notice them earlier. And, with an attentiveness that only slightly put him off, the dog fell into step beside you following you very closely while also looking up at you for any sign of praise or reward. 

Simon inhales, then exhales. He grumbles under his breath, then rips the bag of treats open and kneels down with one of them in his hand. When the dog notices, she clumsily stumbles her way over to him and gratefully takes the treat from out of his fingers.

You appear at his side and kneel down next to him, pressing a kiss against his cheek. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Whose dog is this?”

“Ours.”

“I don’t want a dog.”

“You’ll learn to want a dog.” You say, jokingly. Your hands wrap around his arm and shake him gently.

“I’m serious.”

“Well, you aren’t exactly home very often. I think the decision is mine.” You say, firmly. “And, as sad as it is to admit, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t lonely, sometimes.”

He can feel the weight of your head on his shoulder. He doubts that your intent is to guilt him–but if it is, it’s certainly working.

The dog nudges her wet nose into the palm of his hand. No doubt looking for more treats Her head is smaller than his hand. As gently as possible, he brushes his knuckles over her head.

“Does the dog… make you feel less lonely?”

“Yes. Most of the time.”

He rests his palm over her head now, brushing his thumb back and forth over the space between her eyes. 

“What’s it’s name then?”

“Goose.”

“Stupid fucking name.” He says, softly.

“Fuck you.” You laugh. “You love it. Asshole.”

Goose walks in a circle in her spot, then sits with her back turned to him. She leans her weight against his knee.

“Not much of a guard dog.” He murmurs, and you reach a hand to scratch behind her ear. “Hardly did anything when I came in.”

“Because she’s a good girl.” You say.

He can feel her tail hit his foot at the sudden excitement at being praised for being anything. “If she’s gonna stay in this house, she’s gonna have to protect it.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Simon takes another treat out of the bag. Goose does absolutely nothing to hide her excitement. “And, how did this happen?”

“She got dumped outside of my work. No one wanted to take her so I took her.” You say. Simon looks at you and you look back at him. “No chip, no collar. She was wandering around our parking lot for hours, I think. Probably waiting for whoever dumped her. Vet said she can’t be any older than five months.”

“When was this?”

“About a month and a half ago.” You rub your thumb against his arm and press your mouth against his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re home.”

“Yeah.”

“So, what do you think?”

Slowly, Goose sinks down closer to the ground and settles her chin over her far-too-big paws. She looks at Simon, blinking at him with big eyes before they slowly settle into a nap.

“I think that a dog is a perfect waste of space.”

“Okay, what do you really think?” You chuckle. 

He sighs. A moment passes of complete silence. You’re hanging onto his arm, kneeling beside him as you both look down at this dog who can only get bigger and dirtier and stupider. This dog, who is also very soft and sweet. And, while (in his own opinion) he might be something of a monster, Simon couldn’t allow himself to be completely heartless. He couldn’t be the thing that takes away the bits of happiness that you can find for yourself.

“If it makes you happy, then I can hardly say no.”

You smile at him, give his arm a squeeze, and press another kiss on his cheek. You stand, “Do you wanna help me with dinner?”

“I’m gonna get cleaned up first.”

You hum in response but before you can fully turn away, he takes your hand and places a kiss on your cheek just below your eye, then another on your mouth. And in the moment that either of you are looking away from Goose, she gets up and begins chewing on his shoelaces.

“She likes you.”

“If I’m lucky it’ll pass.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t say that it will.” 

Another moment passes where it’s nearly completely silent, save for the sound of Goose’s mouth gnawing the little strings attached to Simon’s feet. Then, slowly, you wrap your arms around his neck and give him a squeeze. 

Then, you pull away, picking up Goose with a labored groan. You walk her over to the back door, open it, and place her down at the threshold. She all but stumbles down the steps into the backyard.

“Well, go get cleaned up if you really wanna help me with dinner.”

Simon watches you empty out grocery bags, then sighs. You listen to his footsteps walk farther into the house. And, through the window, you watch Goose twist up and roll into a splotch of mud. 

[rosedom]

"you have invited CHILDE to a rematch . . . keep your dog on a leash

✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!male!reader, sub!bottom!ftm!childe, puppy play, collar/leash/dog ears/tail plug, anal play, vaginal sex, riding to g-whiz pipeline, praise + dirty talk, creaming, creampie, alluded aftercare .

A/N : it's about time i continued this（；´д｀）ゞ

"is that correct, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to confirm."

"I thought you were bluffing."

You smile. "What makes you think that, puppy?"

Ajax swallows harshly; the movement of his Adam's apple is enthralling, a nervous up n' down that you follow with your eyes. It's not obstructed quite yet, but the leather in your hands begs to encircle his throat; so, too, does the strip of it that hangs and brushes against your feet.

"I just—" A pitiful whine bleeds into his words as he shakes his head, tilting it obediently back to allow you to clip the collar in place. You gently cup his neck in your hands, satiating that itch of yours.

You tease with a small, "You just?" even as he shifts from leg to leg, the tail-plug you've donned him with a heavy weight in his ass. The tail—a bright orange, the faux fur of it striking against his pale n' scarred skin—only accentuates the pretty headband on the crown of his head, one ear pointed up and one left floppy like a lil' puppydog.

He whines. "Stop teasing." 

"'m not," you defend, albeit weakly for you know you've been caught, red-handed and hands-full of Ajax, releasing him to instead tilt his head up by his jaw and to fiddle with the clasp at the end of the leather strip. It's equal in color to the collar he already wears, and it clicks into place easily; you allow yourself to whistle at it. "Pretty puppy, all leashed up for me."

Of course, any retort or complaint from him falls short when you've got him fixed in your lap; Ajax's body trembles, foot to head, as he softly moans into your own throat. You can feel the cool metal of his dog tag brushing against your skin—just like the way the fur of his tail, still snug inside his ass and pressing against your cock where you're balls-deep in his cunt, tickles at your legs.

Deep and husky, small groans tumble from your throat with each rhythmic clench of his cunt, teased wide from your fingers, earlier, and now stretched to its limit with you buried inside. "Relax, puppy," you have to say, have to stroke his tense thighs with the broad palms of your hands to soothe him.

"I—mm—I can't, you're—" he hiccups, soft and low but keening. "You're too big."

You quietly laugh, but the movement of your torso jostles Ajax slightly and makes his grip across your shoulders tighten. "Sorry, sweet thing," you murmur, letting him relax into you with a bated sigh.

In apology, you run your fingers—feather-light—across the tops of his thighs, jumping from freckle to freckle, and kiss him on the top of his head, right between his pretty puppydog ears. The droopy one brushes your cheek in semblance of a kiss.

It's endearing—cute, even; or rather adorable, like a real puppy, the ones you see across every city—, the way he nuzzles into your throat. You think he'd purr if he could.

(Puppy, kitten: same fucking difference.)

"Pup," you murmur (because this is puppy-play, tonight), thrusting your hips up once, twice. He cries out at the pleasure, at the friction of your pelvis bumping against his sensitive cock.

But then you still, and you gently tug his head out of your throat by the soft n' worn leather leash. "Eyes on me, puppy," you murmur. "Let me see those pretty blues."

His eyes are half-lidded where they meet yours; they're dark and heady, the pupils blown wide. He whines, and his lashes flutter; but they do not close.

"Good boy." A deeper red erupts on his already-ruddy cheeks, spilling down to his neck and his upper chest. The collar is a tantalizing divide.

"Please, please," he whimpers—all fucking puppy-like and cute, and, oh, how you want to ruin him: ruin him, until his ears fall askew and all he can do is helplessly whine into you.

You hold him by his love-handles, the soft, strong fat a perfect fit in your palms, as you begin to gently move him in your lap. His hips roll—back and forth, gentling along like waves lapping against a shore—helped along by your hands; the whole while, you've got the leash held snug in your one hand, pressing against his side.

There is slack, in that leather. After all, the leash—the collar, too, and the tail and the ears—are all a ruse; they all serve a purpose, simply, in allowing Ajax to not only love but to be loved in turn.

He is, in all senses of the word, a puppydog: he's loyal to a fault, putting others—the Tsaritsa, his family, you—above himself. But in this, he is greedy—like you've got a treat dangling in front of his nose, just out of reach but so, so easily able to beg for. And, dog person or not, you're certainly an Ajax person.

After a while of the soft back n' forth, your thighs and cock slicking up more in his and your arousal's both—a mix of your pre—, you decide to up the ante, just a little.

"Hold on, puppy," you murmur, rather sudden. He has all of a second to hold on—hands scrabbling for the hair at the nape of your neck, tugging, grasping on like he's got thick, thumb-less paws—before you're pressing him back and down, belly-up on the mattress.

"Ah!" He yelps out loud, the switch of positions making the plug press further into him. Your cock slips out, but only for a moment; you easily right that wrong, sliding in all smooth and tender. You've got your knees pressed to either side of him, under him, his thighs open across yours and his hips tilted up.

"Ready?" you ask.

Ajax whimpers, and he nods.

"Good." With a parting kiss to his nose, you take tight hold of the leash—the handle of it fitting perfect in your fist—and lean back on your heels. He mewls when your cock drags out, and cries when you pull him back by a hand on his hip.

You're able to move him how you want him—all with one hand. It makes him dizzy, whimpering small, punched out noises with each thrust. "Oh, please!"

What's even better, is the saccharine way he can feel the plug rubbing against your cock, even through his flesh; he arches into you, testing the gentle give in the leash. You follow him, but the pull is a heavy weight; you do not choke him, but it keeps him right where you want him: looking down at where your cock meets his.

"Look at yourself, puppy," you groan out, bringing the leash down to your wrist as you press down into his lower stomach. Your other hand keeps him steady by his hip the whole while, forcing him to meet each thrust of your hips. "Your pretty cunt takes me so well."

He stares, transfixed, at the lewd picture, at the way his cunt is spread wide on you and accepting each bump, each bud against his g-spot.

You grin, devilish. "Look at this thick cock, too," you murmur, dragging your hand down—right through the thick curls at the apex of his thighs, trailing to his navel in a way you so desperately want to lick—to stroke him off. "I can feel it throbbing against me, hm?"

Ajax whines, at that. "I'm so hard for you—"

"All for me?" You gently rub at his cockhead, providing sweet friction against his most sensitive spot. His back arches, more whines spilling from his parted lips, and—and just like you wanted, his ears come askew. "Oh, 'Jax," you coo. "Your ears came off."

You start like you're going to right them, but to do so would mean to dislodge your thumb from his cock; he whines, shakes his head, small pleas and, "No, leave it, 'm so close," circling your ears.

You give him mercy, today. "Puppy's gonna make a mess for me?" you ask, light but groaning, soft moans of your own slipping past your restraint. He's clenching so perfectly around you, throbbing and wet, and his cock jerks against you in a way that sends your mind spinning.

"G'nna cum! Please, please," he starts to beg. "Please, can I cum? I've been—" he hiccups, "—so good for you, haven't I? Haven't I?" It's a testament to how far he's gone that he babbles so endlessly, each plea sending you closer and closer to your own edge.

"You've been perfect for me, puppy," you coo. "Such a good boy for me. G-go on then, cum all over my cock—I'll fill you up, just the way you like it. Gonna fill you up nice n' deep, make sure it all stays in you right where it belongs."

Rather suddenly, Ajax's thighs begin to jump anew, his cock pulsing heavy beneath your fingers—and just like that, he's gone. Pretty n' sticky white, thick and opaque, dribbles past your cock, the base surrounded in the starts of Ajax's release.

"Good boy, good puppy," you murmur, keeping your thrusts even and your thumb gentle against his cockhead. He cries and mewls and whines, ears completely gone now as he thrashes; all the while, the clench of his cunt sends you over your own edge, filling him just like you said you would. "My perfect boy."

You stay pressed deep into him as you move away your fingers from his cock, letting the leash fall from your other hand's tight grip. Little red imprints—hardly harsh, and surely soon to fade away—stay stuck in the freckled skin you leave behind.

"You did so good for me, sweetheart."

He laughs, breathless, whimpering slightly when he jostles your soft cock from its comfortable rest. With a sigh, you pull yourself from his warm, wet cunt, and you watch, enraptured, at the sticky white that clings to your cock, at your cum dripping from his messy hole.

Sweetly, you ask, "Still think I'm bluffing?" even while you tug at the plug in his ass, gentling it out and soothing his whine with a rub against his other hole. (You definitely don't do it to rub the mixture of your cums into his ass, too. Nope!)

He grumbles, once he relaxes into your touch, into the warm cloth you bring up to clean away the mess. "No," he says. "I'm sorry for doubting you."

But then, he grins. "But if doubting you gets this treatment, maybe I should do it more often."

Sly bastard.

oh my god;; i hope i did him justice. he's my good puppy o(*￣▽￣*)ブ also, unrelated: i'm gonna be updating my masterlist tmrrw c; expect more annoying spam on your timelines, i apologize . . .

19 FEB. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .

[tokkishouse]

(Sfw) The first time you call him a term of endearment

Characters: Aether, Ayato, Cyno, Gorou, Heizou, Kaeya

Warnings: Fem. leaning nickname in Ayato's (princess), Cyno is implied to be taller than reader, reader is ticklish in Heizou's, mention of alcohol in Kaeya's

WC: 1.4k words total

Pt. 1, Pt. 3

"Aether honey, fetch me my watering pail!" You call out to him, currently hunched over the seeds you had just planted in the soil. You both were doing some tending to the garden you had just recently started in your teapot, and you had just finished the planting process.

You hear the loud crashing and clunking of metal behind you, and you whip your head around to see Aether standing there, hands at his side and gaze focused on you.

"Are you okay?!" You ask, hurriedly rising to your feet to check on him.

"'Honey'...you called me 'honey,'" he breathes out, watching you. You blink once, twice, and then nod.

"I did, yes," you confirm.

His cheeks turn pink and he looks away, pulling his scarf up a bit in an attempt to hide his face. He clears his throat and bends down to grab the watering pail.

"I-I'll just go ahead and get this filled up with water for you," he mumbles and rushes off before you can say anything.

You and Ayato were walking around Inazuma City, soldiers trailing behind to watch over you two. You wanted to see what the merchants were selling, and perhaps say hi to a few old friends.

A jewel in a nearby stand catches your eye, and you drag Ayato over quickly.

"Darling, look! Wouldn't this ruby be beautiful in a necklace?" You coo, leaning down to get a closer look at it.

He falters a bit before he responds, almost taken by surprise by the pet name. Almost. He recovers quickly and responds with his own term of endearment.

"If it pleases my princess, you can have every jewel the owner is selling."

His voice is smooth and the nickname rolls off his tongue flawlessly, sending goosebumps down your back. You look back, eyes bright with excitement while your face is flushed with embarrassment. He gives you a polite smile, as if unaware of the effect of his words on you, and turns to the merchant to make the purchase.

The moon was high, shining through the night sky and down on Sumeru City. The activity was slowed and most everyone inside their homes, save for a few that clung to the shadows, hopeful to take advantage of unsuspecting passerbys. Word spread quickly that the General Mahamatra had returned home though, and those looking to cause trouble quickly dispersed.

"Y/N, I'm back," Cyno announces as he walks inside your home.

He sets aside his polearm and takes off his headpiece, setting it aside on a nearby table. You walk out of the kitchen, wrapped in a blanket and clutching a hot mug of tea in your hand. You smile and step closer to your partner.

"Welcome back Cyno. I trust you served justice well?" You ask, already knowing the answer.

He nods and leans forward, resting his head on your shoulder. You feel the weight of his work melt off upon touch and almost fall over due to him putting all his weight on you.

"Alright love, let's get you to bed," you gently chide, setting aside your mug.

He hums-- in delight you deduce, based on the high-range sound, but makes no move to pull away.

"That's new. Instead of cuddling a bed bug, it seems you'll cuddle a lovebug?"

You groan loudly and shove him off of you gently.

"Nevermind, sleep on the couch!"

You and Gorou were helping the soldiers on Watatsumi Island move the crates of supplies around. You'd been at it since sunrise and the fatigue was starting to eat at you. You drop a crate on the ground with an unceremonious thud and groan, rubbing your back. Gorou's ears pick this up and he instantly turns to you, also grabbing the attention of his fellow soldiers.

"Y/N? Are you alright?" He asks, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

He was easy to read-- his tail sways back and forth, kicking up the dirt and anxiety was clearly filling his body. Had he pushed you too hard? You weren't a member of the Kokomi's platoons so technically this wasn't your responsibility-- you had just offered. You wave him off, flashing him a tired smile.

" 's nothing baby. I just need to rest. I'll catch up, yeah?" You explain, slowly sitting down next to one of the crates.

Gorou's tail straightens out instantly, and he's frozen in his spot. His ears are erect and his eyes widen as red spreads across his face. The soldiers are quick to pick up on their general's embarrassment and they start teasing him. You watch on in amusement but say nothing, leaving your partner to defend himself.

"Heiiiizooooou," you whine loudly as you lay on the couch.

He said that he wouldn't take too long on analyzing some reports for a case he was working on, promising to give you attention shortly. A promise that was made about 45 minutes ago. He always got sucked into his work and while usually, you were fine with that, you were feeling extra clingy today.

"Yesssss Y/N?" He matches your tone, poking his head out from his office. You huff.

"You promised you wouldn't take long. Surely your case can wait an hour or two!" He tsks at you disappointedly, shaking his head.

"Patience is a virtue, Y/N. You have to learn how to exhibit it! You wouldn't want me to let this criminal escape, would you? Imagine all the harm they could cause to Inazuma, or to you! My sweet darling lover!" Heizou mock faints, pressing a hand on his head for dramatic effect, earning an eye roll from you.

"Are you saying you wouldn't be able to take them? Getting weak are we babe?" You gripe, crossing your arms.

He stops in his place and looks at you properly, green eyes blinking owlishly.

"What? Do I have something on my face?" You ask, bringing a hand up to your cheek. He shakes his head, face cracking into a grin.

"I'm your babe, am I?" He teases, slithering over. "Am I your honey bunny too? Your baby? Your sweet love bug and apple of my eye?" With each sickeningly sweet nickname he lists off, he applies more pressure on your body as he tickles you.

You squeal in surprise, kicking your legs in an attempt to get him away. Laughter fills the room and your pleas for him to stop are ignored in favor of hitting all your ticklish spots. In all the excitement, you fail to notice the shine in Heizou's eyes and the tips of his ears turning red.

You and Kaeya had decided to stop by Angel's Share for a drink and to harass Diluc while he worked. The bartender was as curt as ever to him, not letting the calvary captain's teasings get to him. He was always cordial with you though-- never giving you a hard time. He only ever seemed to express disappointment with you when asking about what you saw in his brother.

"I'm still confused about how he managed to secure you as a partner," Diluc questions, giving Kaeya an unimpressed glance.

Kaeya faux gasps quietly, pressing a hand to his chest.

"Diluc dearest, you wound me. I'll have you know that I am a delight and it was my shining personality that won Y/N," he announces matter-of-factly.

You giggle into your cup as the two of them break into a small argument over Kaeya's character. It was nothing serious-- anyone with eyes could tell neither brother was taking the argument seriously. When their gaze turned to you, you pop an eyebrow up.

"Y/N, do tell Diluc just how lovely I am!" He begs, playing up the theatrics.

You swirl your mug a bit, watching the amber liquid slosh around.

"He's my snowdrop, Diluc. He's quite special to me, and you wouldn't know it but he secretly is a big sweetie and-"

Before you can finish, Kaeya's hand is slapped over your mouth. You and Diluc both look over at the man who is now stumbling over his words, cheeks turning dark. He was not prepared to be gifted a nickname so soon, especially in front of his brother.

"I-I think he gets the idea, Y/N," he coughs into his other hand, slowly letting the one covering your mouth drop.

Diluc flashes him a teasing smile.

"I think I do, snowdrop."

@seirenspinel & @xylerray Per your requests❤️

If you want me to do other characters, you can ask!

Requests are open~!

[neopuppy]

Puppy Pound (M)

preview. “You have to understand pup, I can’t risk coming home to you destroying every inch of furniture again. Your last rut was really.. something.”

Unlatching the metal collar he hasn’t had to use since Jeno’s first year away from the kennel, Renjun eyes him apologetically. “We have to do this, at least until she’s ready.”

Jeno whimpers, head drooping down as his owner locks the metal collar around his neck, safely storing the key away in his pocket before scratching through the hybrids nape. “Come on pup, into the woods before it gets too dark.”

pairing. dog hybrid Jeno x female dog hybrid reader

genre. hybrid AU, a/b/o subgenders, pwop, M/F, my contribution to the ‘quiet down’ glass box enthusiasts(we finally got Jeno INSIDE🤭)

warnings. profanity, use of ‘pup/puppy’, Renjun’s only here to be a stressed out hybrid caretaker, smut warnings under cut. minors DNI.

wc. 8000

now playing. Puppy Pound//Jazmin Bean

smut warnings. puppy rut, prey/predator vibes, restraints, leashing, masturbation, whining, cum eating, biting, choking(‘scruffing’), use of ‘bitch’(once or twice srry), painful orgasm, oral, barbed cock(ex: monsterfucking), knotting, cum inflation, unprotected vaginal sex

“I hate doing this to you pup.”

Renjun sighs with a frown worrying his lips as he gently combs through Jeno’s soft coat. The hybrid had escaped again last night, laid out naked in the backyard with dazed eyes, his blond hair a mess, tail covered in leaves and branches. It could only mean one thing..

“I don’t want to have to muzzle you, but I can’t have you staying here during your rut.”

Jeno whines, pawing at Renjun’s chest with enlarged doe eyes blacked out by his hormones taking over, eliminating the usual tender hues of brown. “I know I know, but you’ve been a real bad boy as of late, haven’t you?”

Instead of answering Jeno proceeds to grumble, swapping his act of innocence for a sleek glare at his owner. The look earning a nervous laugh from the smaller man. “You have to understand pup, I can’t risk coming home to you destroying every inch of furniture again. Your last rut was really.. something.”

Unlatching the metal collar he hasn’t had to use since Jeno’s first year away from the kennel, Renjun eyes him apologetically. “We have to do this, at least until she’s ready.”

Jeno whimpers, head drooping down as his owner locks the metal collar around his neck, safely storing the key away in his pocket before scratching through the hybrids nape to comfort. “Come on pup, into the woods before it gets too dark.”

Renjun hates doing this, he really does, but he knew there could be consequences when he adopted Jeno. The kennel had been very adamant in instructing that he was no average dog hybrid.

‘Part Dobberman? Is that even possible?’

‘He’s a mutant, a mutt but worse. Those damn humans that treat hybrids like god damn toys instead of pets. They were force breeding all types of strains to create some abnormally powerful Alpha dog.’

‘Alpha dog?’

‘Yeah, that’s how Jeno was developed. Samoyed mother ravaged by Dobberman hybrids until she finally gave birth to a litter. He was the only one that survived.. if not for our facilities taking down their set-up who knows where he’d be now. Probably beaten to death by preys much stronger and larger than him in the underground boxing world.’

Jeno’s always been special, even more so because he’s such a unique hybrid. The first time Renjun laid eyes on him he knew he had to bring him home to take care of, even after the hybrid stood to his full size and his cute puppy face suddenly became overshadowed by the expanse of his muscular arms and wide chest.

Even now with a solemn expression wearing the puppies face down Renjun can’t help the pangs in his chest watching his overgrown pup sulk on the trek through the woods. “I’ll bring you back home once your ruts over okay?”

Jeno avoids his gaze, glaring at the glass box with chains inside from corner to corner that he’d been made to sleep in once Renjun realized his hybrid was the one behind the alarming amount of missing neighborhood cats. After discussions and much contemplation with the hybrid clinic they’d settled upon locking Jeno up at night, at least until he became accustomed to wild-life outside of his own. The glass case had done wonders to help him learn resistance and self-restraint to not cause harm, as naive and innocent as his actions were even doing so.

“How about I buy all of your favorite jellies too?” Renjun crouches down, smiling at the hybrid as he begins to unlock the case. He’d come out to clean it yesterday, still covered with remnants of Jeno’s fur from years prior.

“It’s not fair.”

Jeno kicks at leaves and dirt, pouting as he sways and avoids his owner's gaze. “I know it may seem that way Jeno, but she hasn’t ever been bred before. What if I’m at work again when it happens? I can’t take time off just to make sure my hybrids act civil and don’t mate all over my house.”

“I wouldn’t mate her.” Jeno snaps, quietly voicing off ‘yet’ in his head. “But you got her for me! Why can’t I—“

“Because.” Renjun interrupts. “The vet said she’s not ready for..” he motions lower toward the hybrids groin. “That.”

Jeno scoffs, finally taking a look at the case that Renjun at least had the decency to set up with a blanket and pillow this time. Not that it mattered much, despite the last days of Winter still making nights chilly, the hybrids not worried too much about it. “Body heat keeps me warm you know, especially during my rut.”

“I know.” Renjun smiles softly. “I feel so bad putting you out here, but after the last time...”

“She was begging for it.” Jeno rolls his eyes, entering the glass case before he becomes too riled up.

“I believe you Jeno!” Renjun has to ready himself to hoist up one of the chains, struggling slightly with a grimace as he squats and shoves back up, nearly losing his footing.

“I can do it myself.” Jeno grabs the heavy chain metal from his owners hands, glaring as he attaches one to the ring of his collar.

“…it’s heavy, doesn’t it hurt?”

Jeno sighs, hooking the other chain to himself allowing Renjun to lock them in place, the restraint only leaving him with enough room to turn and take a few steps, but not enough to leave the box once closed shut.

“Nothing hurts more than spending my rut alone.” He grumbles, shooting bullets at Renjun with his next sharp look.

The smaller chuckles uncomfortably, anxiously bouncing on his heels as he reaches to shake the chains and insure they’re not going anywhere. “The vet says she’ll be ready soon. Maybe by your next rut things will be different.”

Jeno grinds his teeth to hold himself back from responding full of attitude. The vet can suck it, frankly. He knows you’re ready, you practically ate him alive when your heat hit last time. As much as he wants to believe Renjun’s genuinely concerned for your safety, his Alpha can’t help but patronize him with constant nonsense that their owner is lying, because he wants you all to himself.

“I’ll stop by to drop off some food in the morning before I head to work, you should be fine until then right pup?”

Jeno nods, allowing for Renjun to shut the glass box with him fully trapped inside. The contraption akin to some type of ridiculous Harry Houdini magic trick, except this one didn’t include a trick door to sneak out of for a grandiose reveal.

“Forgive me, okay pup?” Renjun’s frown returns, watching the hybrid with a gloomy expression. Jeno doesn’t want him to think he hates him, but he can’t help to appear irritated the more his need to fuck and breed rises.

“It’s fine.” He grumbles, laying back into the soft blanket with a stiff neck. The metal collar not too heavy for someone with his inhumane amount of strength, moreso annoying the longer he has to wear it.

“You promise?”

Jeno laughs while turning off to the side and shaking his head. “Yeah yeah, I promise, but I fully expect a huge bag of jellies after this.”

“You got it.” Renjun winks, reaching for the set of keys in his pocket. “It’s time.”

Jeno nods, watching as his owner locks him up, scatter brained by the memories of the month he spent doing the same with a remorseful look and his head hung between his shoulders while he backed away and headed home.

The rational human side of himself knows it’s for the best really, you needed stitches last time after trying to take his full size for the first time. The thought of it licks up his back, jerking at his waist as bubbling heat runs through his cock.

You insisted he keep going, he just wanted to feel you a little is all.. but you were too fucking tight. Fists ball up at his hips the more he recalls your wrecked angelic face, tongue hung out like the thirsty puppy you are, wet eyes smiling in spite of the tears tracking down your cheeks.

He can still taste your sweet and salty tears on the tip of his tongue, dragging it between his teeth just to force out any remaining saliva that might still carry traces of your scent.

Renjun has to be home by now, the walks not too far out, just enough that if he somehow manages to escape the collar alarm would give him enough time to lock you up before he can reach the house.

The reminder around his throat only angers him more as he sucks on his drool and fools himself that he can still taste your spit, your arousal trickling down his fingers, and your sweet sweet honey-like tears.

Whining to himself, his eyebrows scrunch together unhappily, it's too early to feel this out of control; but this is what you do to him. It’s what you’ve done to him since the day Renjun brought him back to the kennel after experiencing how terrible Jeno’s ruts truly are.

The clinic advised him to send the dog hybrid away to ‘rut breeding centers’, but they wanted nothing to do with a hybrid such as Jeno; time and time again rejecting his applications until Renjun received a flat out ‘no’ due to the hybrids mutated breed.

It all seemed hopeless until the first time he saw you, frolicking out on the grass with your pretty multi-toned coat shining under the sun. The smile on your face beaming brighter than the sky above you, tail swishing in slow motion as you ran around playing fetch with one of the trainers.

‘That one.’ Jeno said with his nose pressed up to the window, starry-eyed and one second away from drooling.

‘Oh the Siberian is not up for adoption.’

Jeno’s attention snapped to the facility chief fast enough to cause whiplash, baring his teeth in a growl as Renjun jumped before him to create a wall between the two.

‘Why is that?’

‘She’s to be put up for auction later this week, we already have a family interested in her willing to pay thous—‘

‘I’ll pay more.’ Renjun interrupted sternly, gripping at the hybrid ready to blow a gasket behind him. ‘Please, please consider my offer. I’m willing to pay above market price.’

Jeno sighs, ignoring the twitch in his cock as he calms and reminds himself that his owner would do anything for him, even wipe out his savings to satisfy the hybrids insatiable need to fuck and claim.

He just has to be patient.

Not that you make it any easier for him.

No, you made it damn near impossible to control his Alpha. A purebred female Siberian husky, equipped with many of the usual attributes from your animal side, down to the unique heterochromia iridis. The different tones of gorgeous colorful pools that stared at him daily only amplified each fascinated blink, curious longing gaze and coy lustful stare you reserved just for him.

Ah, she makes it hard for me.

A lot of things really, the way his heart rate speeds up whenever you sneak to his bed and burrow into his arms, the way you chase him around and chew on his neck leaving light teeth marks behind, and the way your scent stains every spot around the house that Jeno’s already claimed and thoroughly scented. You make it so hard for him to not bend you over every surface and impale you with his knot until you beg to be mated, claimed and owned.

It’s no secret you’ve been attracted to the Alpha before ever even meeting. From the day Renjun brought you home and initially warmed you up to the hybrids scent by bringing some of Jeno’s clothes along, the attraction was instantaneous upon the first whiff, curiously sniffing around for more of the scent full of testosterone and power.

Finally arriving at your new home only reaffirmed your assumptions, Jeno’s every bit the strong domineering Alpha you’d expected, but he’s special..

While his Dobberman side made him all sharp edged, lethal and territorial, his Samoyed side magnified how irritatingly cute he is, caring and loving even when he wants to be mad at you for pulling on his tail and ears. Jeno could never really get mad at you, instead becoming more playful in your presence, tackling you down gently until you become a meshed pile of laughter and painfully stretched out cheeks. The two of you routinely bathe in each other’s licks to the point that Renjun grimaces when you crush your damp cheeks against his when you thrash into him for a hug, the residue of Jeno’s saliva left smeared behind each time.

He knows deep down inside it will be worth the wait when you’re ready, even if it hurts him now. Even if it means another rut weeping into his palm, the bone crushing feral pain to fuck becoming harder and harder to endure each time. Renjun couldn’t stand watching his hybrid try to recover from another rut alone, but Jeno chose you.. and you had come from a strict Husky farm that bred only pure hybrids. While this was great and ethical considering the ever growing percentage of hybrids that have ended up abused or overly sexualized, it wasn’t ideal for his extremely sex-driven hybrid, but Jeno insisted it had to be you.

Journeying through the muddy haze that's begun to cloud his thoughts, he takes a deep breath and succumbs to the urge to touch himself. It won’t be enough, it’s never enough..

Jeno’s fingers graze across the collar, shivering down his forearm as they meet the cold metal. He knows if he really needed to he could easily break through it, as long as the reason was worth it..

You are worth it though, he thinks, humming to himself; softly stroking down the expanse of his exposed collarbone to mimic the way you caress him when you think he’s asleep. He knows when you’re there, staring at him with those large two-toned dolly eyes, tracing his broad chest between the divets of defined muscle and bone.

The rough pads of his fingers can only do so much, Jeno squeezes his eyes shut, slowly reaching for the waistband of his sweats. He plays with the scrunched material for a moment, reminiscing the strong scent of melted sugar, decadent rich chocolate, syrupy sweet as he lapped the mess off your inner thighs. A low growl rumbles up his chest, finally diving in to encompass his clothed erection. The heat radiating off his length burns through the material of his briefs, palm sweltering as he hisses and forces himself to crush the material around himself.

Fuck, it’s hot.

Jeno can see his deep breath’s fog up the glass, turning his face to the side to contain a moan. He’s barely touched himself and feels ready to burst, an invisible string tugs his spine, threading through his thighs past the filled up sack pulsating there. It trails up, dragged through his length to the tip where he’s pathetically soaking wet. Precum’s made a mess of his briefs, the head of his cock outlined perfectly by the darkened thin cloth drenched over his slit, the girthy mushroom cap shape would terrify most, but he can’t stop picturing the way your face lit up the first time you accidentally walked in on him after a shower.

Jeno gasps, playing with himself by prodding at the wet covered slit, a string of thin wetness attaches to his digit causing his knees to shake. Jerking off hasn’t been the same since you moved in, while he used to do fine with stroking himself once a day, it’s become a time-consuming pass-time with you around.

‘Can I touch?’

You asked so innocently, jaw hung as he stepped out of the shower and patted down his warm skin flushed in shades of pink and red. Flaccid cock jerking on his thigh the second he opened his eyes and spotted you at the door stood still from the shock.

‘You want to?’

Jeno had to bite back a cocky smile threatening to stretch his lips, leading you to sit on the bathroom counter he moved to stand between your thighs, nodding for you to untie the damp towel hanging low on his hips.

‘Is this okay?’ The light touch of your nails tapped along his chest, leisurely gliding down between the etched lines of his contracting stomach muscles. Hot and smooth after thoroughly exfoliating and moisturizing in the shower, needing to take the edge off after watching your AM at home pilates class.

Jeno can feel himself convulse, his hollowed stomach sucking in as he reaches to yank his cock free, tugging his balls above the material of his bottoms for some relief. He groans, just testing the weight, imagining your weaker wrist bending back. The way his length masked nearly the entirety of your palm.

He had to help you back then, not only encourage you to wrap your hand around him, but to stroke and grip firmly, work a repeating motion around his size, to not be scared. The obscene visual of your hand barely being able to wrap around him makes his toes curl in his socks, pushing up higher in the box until the crown of his head hits the top lightly. Groaning between his pursed lips he arches up for more, body fighting his own resistance to take this slow, really draw out the experience.

The rough dryer skin wrapped around his cock will never compare to your dainty smooth hand, the way you held him so cautious and eager at the same time. Asking him ‘what now?’, he can’t believe it even now, how fucking sweet and naive you were just a few months ago; to now crawling on your knees before him, pushing your ass out fully presented begging to be filled.

Jeno twists back and forth down his size, the precum making a huge mess between his fingers, some even reaching the glass when he thrusts forward involuntarily. He can’t control the erratic gyration his hips fall into, can’t suppress an embarrassing whine from exiting his throat. It hurts so bad to know that this is it, unable to even fool himself that you’ll be there when he opens his eyes, that you’re more than just a fantasy for him to get off too and not touch.

Another grunt escapes as he vividly paints your euphoric face behind his eyes, the one you make when you lay back and expose yourself completely for him. Sucking on your finger before reaching down to spread yourself open and plead for the Alpha to use you.

‘Touch me the way I like.’

Jeno can’t breathe anymore, can’t even decipher how fast his fist is fucking up and down his length anymore, he wants to scream, cry, punch a hole through a wall, shatter the glass surrounding him.

He should have fucked you last time, should have came deep inside your womb, should have kept you plugged full of cum for days; but he got scared.

Jeno curses under his breath, feeling guilty as he fucks up into his tightened fist faster. It’s not tight enough, it’s not warm and wet sucking around his cock the way your cunt did. The screams you let out when he managed to enter you only half-way replay in his mind constantly, only wishing he could feel the pathetic excuses of punches you tried slamming against his chest; the faded scratch marks on his shoulders always bringing a smirk to his face when he spots them in his reflection.

“Fuck.” Jeno whines desperately, writhing up to thrust into you faster, give you every inch for once like you deserve. His free hand reaches to glide over the slightly raised skin, retracing the clear memory of your struggle before Renjun rushed in and barreled into him, having to use all of his weight against the hybrid to get him off of you.

Jeno never meant to hurt you, but he can’t deny how good it feels now to get off to, pulling harder and harder on his length; the massive girth pulsating against his palm with each meticulous stroke. He’d do anything to feel your pussy spread apart by his size again, just to be in you, taste your slick arousal all around him. Tears burn at the corners of his clenched eyes before he realizes, the first to drop incinerating down the side of his face.

The worst part is he’s not crying because it feels too good. He’s crying because it hurts. A watery choked sob drowns his next gasp of air, eyes fluttering open to gaze down in disbelief. Swollen from the base to the tip, his cock glares back at him, each vein pulsing angrily. The Alpha inside of him can’t take this anymore, turning on him in his weakest moment.

“Please,” Jeno’s head drops, sniffling his tears and the snot that’s begun to drip from his nose. “Hurts, please it hurts.”

He’s not sure who he’s begging anymore, himself? You? A higher power willing to spare him just this once?

The thought has him blinking up to the sky to ask if God even cares about some mutated hybrid? But the sky no longer appears clear and bright, hidden by darkness, freckled with distant stars and ash gray polluted clouds. Jeno cries harder at the realization that he’s been at this for hours, so deeply sucked into his fantasy that he feels close to hallucinating.

Another sob fights free, shivering as he works through his own pain and continues to play with himself. One hand securely wrapped around the base of his length while the other works to massage through the blood engorged girth throbbing against his palm.

If he had you here, he’d plunge deep inside of you, in and out over and over again without falter. Jeno nods, dry swallowing his next cry, rolling his head forward to find your familiar silhouette approaching slowly. Each step you take looks unreal, not even leaving footprints behind on the dirt and grass as you near the glass case, and he knows he must be going crazy now.

The ruts completely took over, blacked out eyes altering his surroundings into a fever daydream; fogging his senses, morphing him into a mindless fuck-puppy willing to do anything to reach blissed relief. It’s enough to see your face, your immaculate pretty perfect face, even with the worry behind your eyes and an upset slump weighing your shoulders down; he can feel release closer than ever.

Your head tilts, palms laid flat to the case, even wearing one of Jeno’s favorite shirts to sleep in. Unable to properly function, he doesn’t stop to ponder why you’d be wearing that let alone anything at all in his dreams. Instead he growls, pressing forward enough for his nose to crush against the glass, glaring at you with eyes that could devour.

“Alpha?”

Jeno’s body violently twitches, tugging once, twice, not even a third time at his length before aggressively spilling out one of the largest loads of cum he’s ever seen. The mess of it shoots up as he strokes and releases anguished shouts between growls, painting the glass in a creamy thick disaster.

It seems endless where you stand and watch with your jaw hung on the floor, the Alpha relentlessly pulling on his fat reddened length, the head of it near purple from hours of edging himself.

“Oh my god..” you whisper, fearfully nibbling your nails as he snaps back to your face with more black than white overtaking his gaze.

Jeno’s drooling now, his face entirely wet from crying, sniffling, spit working down to gather at the base of his thick neck.

“Alpha..” the name rolls off your tongue again, stifling your breath as you begin to tremble beneath his nefarious expression. “Al-alpha, I want to help you..”

Jeno flinches when you call for him again, his hard size not going down a bit, painfully swollen in his grasp. He topples forward, the chains leaving him no other choice than to press against the glass, the front of his sweats and cock smearing his last bits of arousal that haven’t slid down all the way.

“Touch me.” A gasp gets stuck in your throat, never seeing his mouth move despite hearing Jeno’s voice around you.

He looks wrecked, eyes half-rolled up, sweat dripping down to hang in tear drops along his defined jaw. It’s shocking to see the typically strong Alpha in this state, weak and still pumping his length uncontrollably, huffing hot breaths against the glass rapidly with each jerk around his size.

Renjun would be furious if he found out you only lied about your stomach hurting to lure him to the living room, pleading for your owner to pet your tummy pain away knowing good and well nothing hurt other than the burning ache between your thighs. Requesting tea to help you sleep did the trick, throwing yourself and whining about your cramps for more soothing comfort as you slipped crushed up sleeping pills in his steamy mug, chewing at all of your cuticles until he finally passed out and laid limply on the couch. The key he’d kept tucked away in his pocket seemed important, continuing to pat the area mindlessly throughout the evening.

‘Forgive me.’ You whispered, stealing the key before heading out and following scraps of Jeno’s scent still lingering in the crisp night air.

Your own scent spiked the closer you reached him, confused mostly by the notes of sour hidden in his usual aromatic comforting scent. It’s clear the Alphas emotions have gone haywire the more you pick up frustration, anger and arousal with each sniff.

“Jeno.” Heat swarms through your gut when you finally find him, crumpled up inside of a glass case miserably jerking himself off. His statuesque features wrinkled together in distress, even his arm and wrist appearing strained as you slowly walk up to him, treading lightly and mildly afraid.

The Alpha seems too dazed to realize how loud he screams, thrashing wildly as his release rips free, concaving the skin of his stomach that’s visible with his shirt shoved up to his waist. Jeno’s never looked so pathetic, groveling and sobbing, furiously trying to empty every drop of cum from his cock. The tip shoots out weak little jerky spurts by the end, leaving him boneless, choked by the collar keeping him held up in place.

It’s only as he begins to come down that he blinks at you between tears clumping his long dark eyelashes together, gasping short staggered breaths as he scans your face.

Puppy.

Jeno wants to cry for you, call out your name, scream until his chest rips at the seams; throat too dry to let out more than a whimper, a broken wail at best. The Alpha tenses, reaching to tap his fingers against the glass, each large vein lining his bicep thumping rapidly as he scratches down; silently pleading to be released.

“Jeno, I need you..”

The cracked whine in your tone makes his chest cave in, every instinct shouting that his mate needs him, his Omega needs to be taken care of, fucked and bred full of pups. The collar around his throat tightens with each gulp, laxed as he falls forward pitifully and whines, clawing at the glass door desperately.

“Need you.. Alpha..” crumbling to your knees you lock him in place with a heady gaze, chest dragging down the glass. Pert nipples hardened by arousal and cool night air, stiff through the material of his shirt clinging to your curves. Jeno wants to fall with you, buckling at his knees uncontrollably, the boney points hitting glass where his cums dripped down to. He can hardly breathe anymore, choking himself the more he attempts to move and break free, face gone different tones of red and pink from lack of air.

Brain fog clears enough to recall you’d remembered to grab the keys Renjun was trying to hide, patting way down to your hips to find where you shoved them inside of your underwear. The Alphas glazed over eyes stare down blearily, foaming at the corners of his lips as he continues to flex and strain each muscle, rattling the chains holding him down with small strategic movements to break free of the binds.

Jeno can’t think beyond escaping, surrounded by your heavy scent of arousal, the air thick enough to swallow and melt on his tongue; it’s too much, making his cock jump with each breath. His rut fully taken over to the point of hallucination, every thought shoved aside by the need to claim, fuck, and breed.

Stress consumes your chest, fumbling the keys and having to try a few different ones that won’t fit into the lock. “Fuck fuck.” Slippery hands make it impossible to work faster, glancing back as Jeno’s face morphs to a deep shade of red, each vein on his forehead protruding out violently near the brink of bursting.

Each failed attempt to unlock him heightens the sound of wilderness surrounding you, each bird swarming the area chirps louder, every snap of twig spine wrenching, wind howling around menacingly to taunt you for making your Alpha suffer. The latch finally gives, the sound of it cutting through your throat, catching your breath with a wrapped fist; everything muted by the dramatic fall landing the padlock in a pile of leaves and dirt by your knees.

Jeno’s growl could break glass, shaking the ground beneath you as he finally rips the chains from metal hooks Renjun paid extra money to install, guaranteed not even a wild beast would be able to escape.

It shouldn’t terrify you this much, inching back on your knees with a frightful gaze, but the Alphas never looked this deranged before. Drool gathers down his chin, snarling and shoving the glass open, he pauses, standing in place breathing wildly; chest collapsing in with each deep drawn inhale.

More than animalistic, Jeno seems voracious, treading forward in disbelief as the soles of his feet meet the outside of the box. Tongue lapping at the collection of saliva pouring from his swollen gnawed lips. He watches you curiously, blazed eyes tilting with his head as he stands above you engulfing your body in a shadow of heat.

It’s your fault, all of this, chasing the Alpha everyday, flaunting your rapturous seductive scent in his face only to deny him; forcing him to get locked up to keep you safe and protected.

“Present.” Jeno growls, baring the top row of his teeth, akin to a rabid dog with tendrils of drool hanging from his jawline.

“Jeno..”

Lunging forward, his teeth snap together, reaching for a tuft of your hair to stop you from crawling away. “What did you just call me?”

Jeno fumes, shaking you by the grip around your hair painfully, each strand aching from the small rough tugs pushing you side to side.

“Alpha?” You groan and hiss, reaching for his hips to keep steady and alleviate the pain surging down to your nape. “Alpha, hurts..”

“Then submit.” Jeno shoves you back, pushing his foot into your hip to get you on all fours. “Don’t make me say it again.”

“B-but.. I c-can’t—“ Jeno doesn’t let you finish, without another second of hesitation he buries a foot under your hip and effortlessly forces you onto your front. “Alpha! N-no!”

“Shut up,” Jeno sinks down, cupping your hips to set you steady on your knees. “Submit like a good bitch for once.”

“We can’t! Our owner said!—“

“I don’t fucking care.” Jeno snarls, encompassing your exposed rear with hot thick palms. He’s never this combative, never this cruel and relentless; delivering a lash of a slap to your ass with one hand as his other reaches lower to shove your shoulder down and press your chest to the ground. “You belong to me.”

“We can’t! It won’t fit!” The thought of Jeno’s massive size sets shivers off throughout your limbs, bad enough last time you tried to take him that you had to ice yourself for the rest of the day even after a vet visit as Renjun stomped around scolding him for hurting you. Not even more than a few inches of his thick girth had managed to glide inside of you before belting out deadly shrieks.

“I’ll make it fit.” He grunts, wedging your underwear up between the globes of your ass, kneading and palming the fat that folds over onto your lower back with teeth snapping loudly. “This is what you’re made for.”

Rustling noises alert you, blinking rapidly and failing to turn your head with the Alphas weight keeping you in place, unable to see him undressing as fast as possible with one hand. “You’re going to be good for me puppy.” Jeno says, more so commands, smoothing down to shove your hair away and grip the back of your neck. “Beg for it.”

Slotted between your thighs he gathers your underwear to stretch out, pushing the blunt wet tip of his length against your tight flexed hole. The dampness kissing yours noisily, splitting your labia folds open releasing wads of wetness down between your thighs. The visual tugging a groan from the back of his chest, fingers looped around his cock painfully tight to stop from thrusting all the way in. He needs to remain collected, give you time to adjust, no matter how rageful the veins striping his rod appear.

“..A-alpha— please, be nice..” you whimper, suffocating the more Jeno clutches your neck, the more he prods your folds side to side; admiring the fatty flesh framing his angry swollen tip, foreskin stretched back displaying the full mushroom cap shining with precum. The same one you ‘oooo’ and ‘aaaahhh’ for every time.

“I’m always nice puppy,” Jeno’s tongue clicks, licking the backs of his teeth to gather saliva, mouth dehydrated, thirsting for a taste. “Always so nice to you, too nice. That’s why you’re gushing around me..” shaking his head he dips in an inch, biting down on his bottom lip hard enough to break skin. The giant head obscene trying to push in past your tight hole, immediately suctioned by wet warmth sucking around him in a way that makes his stomach twitch; muscles convulsing between etched lines, sucked in as he takes in a long deep ragged breath.

“Fuck!” Jeno howls, losing the battle with his Alpha, needing to feel you wrapped around each inch. He sinks in with precision, cock sliding through your creamy silk folds with ease. He’s too big regardless of how much you leak around the wide expanse of meat stretching you open with each inch, pushing arousal to drip down his thighs, noisily spurting and bubbling with each short thrust.

Jeno blows your puffed up tail away, nipping at it, slapping his cheek fretfully with each dip of his length. The constant whines you screech out only annoy him all the more. “Such a greedy puppy.” The Alpha hums, digging his neatly filed nails into the sides of your throat, a silent warning to quell the tremors shooting up your tail. “Take take take, that’s all you know how to do. Now it’s my turn to take.”

Jeno’s tone dives into a deeper octave, more sadistic and grim, causing you to scratch at the ground to scurry away; fight or flight instinct taking over and screaming to run. The spike of fear muddying your scent has him caging your neck tighter, fingers curled into your throat cutting your breaths short.

“Teach you how to be my good puppy.” He emphasizes by rocking his hips forward, balls smacking your clit with a heavy land, splashing obscene amounts of wetness between your thighs. The action flutters your eyes shut in humiliation as he tugs your neck back enough to scruff you, assuaging your fear with another deep hum and domineering clutched grip. “This is for your own good.”

The last time you can remember being tamed in such a way had to be when you were still a rambunctious newborn, only faintly recalling when your guardians would gather the skin at your nape to settle you down. Jeno had never gone as far as to scruff you, overtaken by his Alphas needs to be in control, he licks up your jaw without apologizing, teeth pinching your cheek with a soft nip. “Such a cute cute, pretty puppy.”

Hauling you back to lay against his chest, he reaches around to grab your stomach, sitting you fully onto his cock; cunt barely able to squeeze around the mass stretching you out. “So deep inside of you pup..” Jeno’s nose drags down your cheek, drool smearing from his pink wet lips. “Feel so good, perfect for me. Fucking made for me baby.”

Between sniffles you try to agree, caught between pleasure and pain fighting for dominance, losing the fight to your desires when his long digits apply pressure under your navel. “Feel that puppy?”

Gargled spit rises up your throat, blinking away the droplets of tears hanging from the rims of your big wet eyes; mustering up nothing more than hiccups and erratic nods. Huffing from his nose, the Alphas tongue hangs out, licking up your soaked cheek. The entire scene filthy and animalistic, cock buried in deep enough to teasingly kiss your cervix, helpless and weak like nothing more than a stupid prey falling into your predator’s devious trap.

“Alpha!” Jeno’s hands collar your throat even tighter somehow, leveraging his weight above you to rise higher and slip fully out only to pummel into you fast and recklessly. Air flow completely constricted by his strong palms bracketing your throat. Each thrust buries him in deeper than the last leaving you gasping deliriously, fully rearranging your insides with every violent blow meeting your cervix. Fucking worse than a dog in heat, he screams gravely, teeth grinding together, cock chubbed up with blood pushing your walls to stretch open to take all of him.

Without warning he cums, pushing it deeper and deeper without falter, nothing in his movement indicating that he’s ready to stop. The sounds behind you pure animal, rising from the depths of his chest with each hot white spurt entering your womb. Jeno slams into you harder, ass rippling under the collision of his hips. “That’s a good puppy, finally learning your place.”

Jeno smirks, licking his lips clean of drool, grabbing fistfuls of your ass before releasing to spank you again. A fucking mess, slicked down to your knees, ass covered in your juices. He slides out slowly, in a daze as each inch drags out more wet than the last, tugging your ass further apart only to admire the way your cunt swells around him. “Mmm, fuck..”

Jeno wants to whimper when you clench around the head of his cock, stealing a last staggering string of nut before he pops out obscenely loud. The sound even more magnified outdoors, cutting through the crisp night air and rattling your spine with embarrassment.

As much as he loves to see your pussy destroyed, gaped and stretched by the width of his girth, pulsing open in despair for more; Jeno can’t stand to see his seed go to waste, trickling out past your fattened up folds.

“What an ungrateful puppy.” Palms collide with your ass, snapping your back into a bowed arch, breaking with a shout. The tremble let out racking through your body more earth shattering, nearly knocking you off your knees, perfect for the Alpha who uses the opportunity to roll you over, shoving your thighs open with heavy hot palms rubbing up the tender flesh of your inner thighs.

Jeno swoops down, stomach flattened to the ground, latching his mouth over your hole to suck. The sound of slurping loud, disgusting and lewd, swallowing his own cum out of your hole with eyes rolled up facing the back of his head.

“Jeno!”

He rumbles, tongue and nose dragging up and down between your thighs. A fucking mess of slick covering his face, taking over his ability to breathe as you gush out more slick, a huge wad of it dripping down the bridge of his nose. Growling angrily, he slaps your inner thighs meanly, nails clawing down to your knees to scare you.

“A-alpha!” You convulse, writhing under the hard grip he sets on your hips, gluing you down to ravage your cunt with menacing lashes of tongue. Wet and wide, lapping faster than he ever has, chin pouring down with the remnants of wetness he misses, mindlessly devouring between your folds and crevices.

Another loud sob flies from your throat, reaching up to cross your arms on your chest; something to stop you from levitating as another orgasm travels through your body. This one rippling through your thighs and toes until they cramp and helplessly kick in the air.

“Pretty pussy all for me.” Jeno kisses, spitting just to watch your hole open up hungrily for more.

“Slutty cock hungry puppy.. my perfect puppy.” He kisses, quickly moving up to slot his hips between your legs, leaning down to mumble against your parted lips. “Okay?”

It's barely a nod, but it’s enough, letting the Alpha know you need more, you want more. Jeno nods back, nose dripping with a mixture of your arousals gently rubbing against yours, a tender moment before wrapping around his size; fat cock snuggled up to your sore hole. The thick tip nudging its way past the pathetic fight your body puts up, clamping around him in a way that sucks around his length, only inviting him to fuck further in.

He thrusts in harder than before, shocking your nerves, an invisible string attached to your navel lifts your back off the floor, arching up with a shout. Jeno mutters thousands of curses, hissing as he watches inch by inch disappear inside of you. Cock swelling up to full size ready to break your pussy for good. Nodding dumbly, he drags up your torso, tickling your throat before locking around you tightly, hoisted up with a lung clogging grip to hang from his cock.

“So full baby.” Reaching under his shirt, he cups the bulge formed under your belly button, becoming obsessed with how stretched you feel. The tip of his length sculpting a place there with a bed of cum prodding your stomach to expand. “Always knew you could take it.”

“Ughhh, Alpha!” It’s more blabber, hiccups and broken small cries; hardly able to form your words let alone thoughts coherently.

Jeno pulls you to his chest, throwing your weight up and down his thick cock, the pain burning through your middle in a sinfully pleasurable way. It’s sickening how good it feels to know the Alphas high-pitched moans, wanton cries, desperate growls are all for you, that they are all because of you. He fucks as if he’ll never stop, hands scattered all over your flesh leaving scratches and claiming marks behind, caking up skin and bits of blood under trimmed fingernails.

“Never stop fucking you,” Jeno pants, spit slick mouth breathing harshly against your cheek, biting the plump flesh between words. “I’ll never stop fucking you, keep you full of my cum, make sure you’re always filled with pups. Fuck you until your body breaks for me, mine, only mine.”

Rabid hunger pushes him over the edge, throwing you down on the ground to ram into you, nothing to hold him back. Jeno throws your legs over his shoulders, knee pits folding limblessly over the broad muscle; pushing ahead to fold you in half. He grabs your neck again, handprints already blooming around the sensitive skin there. Carelessly fucking into you with abandon, body shoved higher by each thrust, the tip of his size pushing past your cervix; bulged tip breaking through your womb with determination. Barbs form around his length, ripping shrieked screams from your chest as they expand and scratch through your muscle.

Grunting above you like a beast, Jeno’s unrecognizable, eyes blown out by the rut, teeth snapping covered with drool, nose snarled back; ready to attack and pounce. Exposed canines threaten to chew you up, lifting your neck like a toy to shove your foreheads together. Thrusting relentlessly through your heat, his barbed length trapped between your fiery heat is unwilling to stop, prodding harder at your insides the closer he reaches climax. “Fuck you full of my babies, Mine mine mine.”

Jeno’s lost to the unreal grip your pussy has around his barbed length, still attempting to milk him dry despite how much it hurts. The tears streaking your cheeks forming glossy puddles over your two toned eyes a reminder of how much this hurts; how much you still want it, how badly you need it.

“Anything for your Alpha,” he growls shakily, cock throbbing. Hissing as the thick head of his size thrusts in deeper; expanding past the opening of your cervix. Fucking little watery whimpered cries and repeated ‘uh uh uh’ out of your near lifeless body. “Anything?”

Jeno sounds distraught, his Alpha needing you to be responsive. Howling for you to plead, desperate for his good Omega bitch to say what he needs to hear.

Weakly nodding, you sniffle, mouth parting with strings of spit attached. Ruined, only good enough for your Alpha to ever want. “A-any—thing.”

Jeno’s length retracts, pulling out to the tip abruptly. Chest rising and falling similar to a beast after chasing down their prey and succeeding. Blown out gaze dissipating for a second, dropping your legs from his shoulders to properly hold your head up, breathy ragged air fanned across your lips. “Love you so much puppy.”

The Alpha thrusts back in, slamming into your cervix all at once with one full swope. Each ridge of his barbed cock painfully digging in past your somehow still tight cunt. “Fuck puppy! Love you so much.” Jeno cries out, ripping your hair back to bite down on your scent gland. Cock pulsing stronger than an accelerated heart beat. The fat head of his rod breaking your womb, growling as teeth break your skin, mating your Alpha and Omega as he unloads; cock lodging in place expanding at the base. The knot rips an excruciating pleasured orgasm out of you as your muscles seize up and struggle to stretch with the swell tugging your entrance to its limits.

Jeno hasn’t stopped cumming, drowning your womb in hot white strands of sticky release. The new sensation gushing your slick against his cock, adding sensitivity from the pressure of your orgasm, dribbling out in small spaces past his knot leaving his balls soaked with arousal.

Only then does Jeno’s Alpha finally exhale, lapping up the wound inflicted on your throat, tonguing the indents of teeth marks as sorrowful apologetic puppy whimpers pass between exhilarated breaths. The wanton neediness in each lick only a sign that he’s nowhere near done, continuing to spill inside of you until your stomach juts out painfully.

Jeno mumbles a ‘thank you’ ever so quietly, using the minute of clear head space to check in on you and lick your face clean.

“Thank you puppy.” He whispers again, losing sight of his satisfied gaze behind the backs of your eyelids, drifting off as he sets you into a new position onto your side and glides back in. “Thank you.”

Morning comes fast despite your exhaustion, cuddled up to your Alpha atop of the blanket your owner had set out for him. Jeno’s everything consumes you, covered in layers of dry cum, wrapped in the Alphas scent, bite marks littered over your chest, neck, and shoulders.

“Mmmph..” Jeno whimpers in his sleep, shifting against your back and rolling his face to hide in the crook of your neck, nose pressed to your scent gland.

“Alpha.. mhmm hungry.”

Right on time, wooden sticks snap followed by the clouded scent of human drifting through, rising the Alphas head to scan the area and tighten his hold around you.

“What. The. Fuck!” Renjun charges closer the moment he’s near enough to spot the glass box fully open and missing his pup. A scream high enough for only dogs to hear ripping free as he comes to an abrupt stop and finds the two of you laid together.

Jeno smiles, licking your cheek and kissing you to wake up. “Foods here.”

[dark-and-kawaii]

༺ 𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉𝓎 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓈 ༻

Filthy dirty smutty headcanons for our three fine gentlemen.

- Nanami - Toji - Gojo - NSFW - Gun Play - Choking - Belt Play - Cock Warming -

- 𝒯𝑜𝒿𝒾 -

He drags the cold gun muzzle across your exposed skin. You try to bite back whimper as Toji traces your perky clit with the tip of his gun... Trailing it down between your legs until the muzzle probes your cunt.

Toji can only smirk at how wet you’ve become, your wetness coating the steel piece before pressing it into your cunt. Instinctively your legs part while he watches in awe as the metal shaft passes between your lips and into your depths.

“Such a good whore.” - “always so compliant for me.”

You can hardly believe what he’s doing to you, eyes wide and gasping thanks to the cold steel pushing inside you... shuddering to the new feeling.

Toji told you to stop acting like a brat, that if you continued to act up he’d punish you. Still though, you didn’t expect him to thrust his gun inside your sacred hole in the middle of a dark parking lot… And there was nothing you could do about it...

He wasn’t gentle when he began to assault you with the barrel, in and out, he began pumping your cunt with his weapon... Fucking you with his loaded gun...

Toji pushed harder everytime he drove his gun back into you... You don't even seem to register that he could easily shoot you in the cunt... Instead of fearing for your life, you moan out tangling your fingers with his midnight hair, begging him to fuck you with it until you cum... “m-more! T-toji please!”

- 𝒢𝑜𝒿𝑜 -

Satoru texted you fifteen minute’s before showing up at his home, “Be home soon, princess. Grab one of my belts from the closet and be on all fours for me waiting like the good girl I know you are.”

When he finally arrives he’s pleased to see you on all fours in the middle of his living room with one of his black belts in your mouth. You looked like a puppy ready to be walked, awaiting your master to come take the leash.

“That’s my good girl.” He tosses his blindfold across the room, his snowy hair falling to his face, his icey eyes boring into you awaiting to feast upon your body.

You shake your ass from left to right in anticipation, Satoru smiles fondly at you before kneeling in front of you to caress your face , “such an eager little thing. My sweet (y/n).

Taking the belt from your mouth he stands back up without saying a word, he grabs you by your hair pulling you up so that you're on your knees with your back straight

He takes the belt and runs the tail end of it through the buckle, leaving a lot of slack in the middle for your head to fit through it. And in one swift motion Satoru Gojo loops it over your head and then down around your pretty little neck, gently pulling on it to tighten it around your throat.

“All fours." You comply and do as he says.

Throughout the night he pulls the makeshift choke collar back, tighter each time, holding it while continuing to thrust his entire length in your dripping cunt.

You gasp for air moaning, at certain points it becomes too much and you struggle to breathe. One of your hands claw at the belt around your neck while your other hand tries to tap his thigh or arm letting him know you’re about to pass out.

- 𝒩𝒶𝓃𝒶𝓂𝒾 -

Nanami Kento has his days where he just wants to come home and read a good book while sitting in silence… But you’re such a needy little thing. As soon as he comes home you’re practically pouncing on him, especially when you’re in heat… it’s that time of the month again… and all he wants to do is read his book.

You groan and whine with frustration, squirming your hips on his lap, begging for him to let you ride him. Begging him to put his book down and give you attention. Nanami just sighs at your attempts, he’s growing tired of this tonight and in quick motion he pushes you slightly so he can unzip his slacks to release his cock...

His muscular arms lock you down tight slamming himself inside you in a matter of seconds, holding you down he presses on your hips immobilizing you on his thick cock, "Kento!!!"

You scream with need, your pussy twitching and squeezing.

Nanami has a firm grip on your ass his fingers digging deep into your plump flesh while the other holds his book. You moan and whine, his grip unforgiving as you’re held completely still being used a cock sleeve.

“Stay still.” He whispers in your ear while easing his grip on your ass, “If you’re good for me, maybe I’ll give you what you’ve been desiring.” Nanami plants a soft kiss on your nose, the hand on your ass moving to stroke the softness of your belly, his eyes filled with meaning and promise.

"Let me finish this book and I’ll do my best to give you a child, sweetheart.” Even when he tried to put up a dominating facade it always falls when he calls you sweetheart, his love for you is undeniable.

[chronically-ghosted]

Dry Run

rating: T

pairing: javier peña x f!reader

word count: 1513

summary: you meet javi in a club and he shows you his favorite way to foreplay sex.

warnings: no smut, no y/n, this isn't explicit but outrageously horny, naughty language and bad touching in public, slutty dancing

a/n: @ravensmadreads reminded me that the songs "Gasolina" and "Rompe" exist and then forced me at gun point to write this drabble. no one talks about what a good dancer javi would be and i've had enough!

🤍Masterlist

It started simple enough. 

A smile at the bar. The tang of tequila and the sour bite of a lime. A touch against your thigh to see if you are easily startled. He has to lean in close to ask if he can buy you your next drink, the deep rub of his voice only audible above the pound and hum of the music when his lips brush the shell of your ear.  

Then you tug him by that linen shirt, the tails already creeping out of the waistband of his jeans as if in anticipation of what comes next. His damp throat visible through the shamelessly undone collar, you wonder if he barely dresses himself because he knows some woman will just tear him naked again. His breath smells smoky, rich, like the mezcal he’s been sipping on, his broad chest warm under your palm as he now herds you onto the dance floor. There’s a grin on his face, a dark fire in his eyes that tells you he likes to play with his food, that this is nothing more than foreplay to him. Practice before the test. A dry run. 

He wants you to know exactly where you liked to be touched before you bring him home, to surprise and bewitch you as if he had known those places all along. 

But you’re not so easily convinced. Not so easily made dumb by slim hips and wide palms. He wants to dance, you want bailar. 

It starts simple enough. His head hung low, teasing grin on his face, he encourages your arms around his neck. You feel his hair stick to your forehead as he leans in rough palms easing down over your wrists, your elbows, your shoulders, then steadying against your hips. He moves like many men in this country do, with the self-assuredness that the music listens to him and not the other way around. He’s light on his feet, cowboy boots taking two steps forward, one step back, and you wonder what kind of a job he has. What kind of a man he is, that he can dance like this but his palms are so rough. You wonder how he would dance if he didn’t have plans of fucking  you in the club’s bathroom. His hands rest lightly on your hips, hardly respectable but a little possessive, a promise and a warning that you are going to only dance with him tonight. 

You watch his eyes flick down to your chest only a few times. 

But then the music changes, the crowd drunk and eager for something stronger than seduction. The bachata gives way to music not about love but lust, its desirable twin. It’s faster, something more metallic and driven. 

The hands on your hips tighten and the pulse in your wrists quickens. It comes as no surprise that this stranger, this man can easily handle the switch – the slide into something that demands a change of pace, the roll of the hips instead of a sway. 

He is never rough and never grips too tight. His hands glide up to the arch of your back, hot and rolling like candle wax, as he suggests silently that you come closer, that you let him feel only what you’ve been showing. You go willingly, curious and painfully turned on. What is he capable of? What can he do to you? What would you let him do to you?

His feet widen apart and you slot in like you’re supposed to. He seems surprised by it, as if every move you’ve made towards him all night hasn’t been bold, hasn’t explicitly told him what you want. His arm now up around the low dip of your ribs, the thumb on the other hand brushes under your lip. He won’t kiss you, you don’t kiss to this music, but you see he wants to breathe you in, wants to make your air his. 

“Hermosa,” he murmurs, everything about him from his hair, to his mustache, eyes and eyebrows dark and heavy. “Que hermosa.” 

You don’t realize you’re pinned to his chest until his arm has nowhere to go, trapped between you two. So he doesn’t move it. He cups the back of your neck, fingers pressing into the damp lining of your hair above the knot of your spine. This isn’t what he expected to happen and neither did you. His belt buckle digs into your hips and you can’t resist pushing into that cold pinch. His nostrils flare, eyes searching, breath short. Sweat drips over his left eye and you half-bite, half-kiss the spot on his forehead, tongue printing on his skin. 

You feel more than hear the groan in his chest. 

The music changes again, the lights spinning and dropping in the low beats. In the half-dark, he tugs your elbows from around his head, finger rubbing over the lining of your panties over your dress, and he turns you, barely allowing an inch of space between you. 

You feel his breath on your neck before those wide palms curl around you, that hot, damp chest curl around you, and he’s dragged you against him, all without missing the flow of the music. You moan when his hard cock, confined by the seam of his jeans, spreads your ass cheeks apart and you drop your head onto his shoulder. His fingers twist the hem of your dress but don’t move it. The bareness of your skin is for him alone, in private, in the half-darkness. Instead, he palms the hand pressing into your thigh, your legs screaming from the constant movement, and brings it up to your chest, his fingers intertwining with yours. He nudges your jaw with his nose, breath heavy against your ear. 

He likes to fuck like this too, you realize.

His hips flow and buck with the music, yours nestled as tight as you can without him physically being inside you. You purposefully fall out of sync for a fraction of a second, your ass grindings against where he is so deliciously hard and he grunts. He drops his head, tongue then teeth digging into the muscle between your shoulder and your neck. You intentionally rub against him again, in the opposite direction, and his other hand again overtakes yours, threading his fingers and yours together, and wraps your arm around your ribs, his own like a hot steel bar across you. 

You toss your head back, gasping for air before you are pulled back under. 

Wrapped around you, he fucks you without penetration, the music a whispered instruction to the pace of his hips. You turn your head and bite his ear, making him groan deep, the metal teeth of his jeans imprinting their shape onto your ass. His eyes closed, his fingers dig into your palms. Hot, humid air puffs from his wet mouth over your shoulder, into the curl of your neck. Your skin beneath your wet hair twitches with sudden goosebumps. 

You realize, in a daze, he’s muttering the filthy lyrics to you, smearing promises into your skin long before you can reciprocate that pleasure. You push back against him, a reward, and this time, he purposefully rubs against you, against the music, his hand over yours dropping to your abdomen, just where your panties sit under your dress. He cups you as if he could mount you –  drive you under him, and eat you out on his knees.

On the next flash of light, the drop of the beat, you slide your hand out from under him and wind up into his hair. His free forearm binds you just under your tits, keeping you against his grinds, his sweat-damp body, so you curl your fingers into his hair and yank. His head drops back as he pants from the sharp spike of pleasure and pain. 

His heartbeat is the same as the bass, you think. Maybe yours too, the heat of his chest felt all the way down your spine. 

He is minutes away from unwinding himself from you, from flushing you cold without the fervor of his body, your own drenched in sweat, only to all but drag you into the nearest bathroom, shove your panties down to your knees and actually, properly fuck you until you have bruises and beg him for more. But not yet. 

There’s an intimacy in dancing like this. A familiarity that is too often rapidly lost and gained in the physicality of later acts. 

You think deliriously that all couples should have to dance like this before going out or even hooking up. Because this, this chemistry, this natural heat and rhythm, can so often provide honesty that can rarely be spoken about so early. This, this dancing, asks, “are you going to fuck me like I need it?”

Yes, his body proves as his strong, thick thighs cage you even further into him, yes, he can. 

He will fuck you. He will, he promises every time he makes you squeeze yourself with his hands. 

But not yet. 

Not yet. 

[drabblesandimagines]

Trunk

Leon Kennedy x female reader (BSAA) for this request Fluffy, bit of mild spice, bit of blood, mention of panic attack, swears

It was meant to be straightforward surveillance ahead of the main op. Monitor the drop – the metal suitcase fitted with a tracking chip and three fake virus vials – note any observations about the pick-up, then inform the rest of the Wolf Hound Squad who would track the co-ordinates to find the terrorists’ base of operations.

You had pouted a little at being sidelined from the main action, but Chris needed someone stealthy to keep an eye over the drop and, with a squeeze to your shoulder, your track record meant you were the prime candidate.

You’d set yourself up in the eaves of the abandoned warehouse that served as the drop-off point, armed with a pair of binoculars, an ear piece and a couple of guns, as always, for if anything went south...

..which it did the moment you detected movement from the south-east corner. It took a few attempts to get them in focus, but your heart sank when you recognized the figure – one Leon S Kennedy of the DSO rolling between abandoned shipping containers, honing in on the one you’d placed the metal suitcase in a few hours previously.

What the hell is he doing here?

You press down on your earpiece and it beeps once, opening the line to transmit. “Alpha to Lupe. Got a problem. Over.”

Silence.

“Alpha to Lupe. Got a problem. Over.”

Nothing – again. Maybe your current position has poor signal, but there’s no time to troubleshoot when squealing tyres echo around the structure, alerting you to the two black cars swerving in and heading to the shipping container in question.

The cars stop, their engines remaining idle and five well-built and well-dressed men depart – three from one, two from another.

Through your binoculars, you see Leon head straight for them, gun raised.

Shit.

--

You are jolted back into consciousness when your crown smacks on something hard, before being ricocheted back down to your nose cracking against something firm, groaning as you come to.

“Finally awake, sleeping beauty?”

The voice is familiar and rumbles through your chest with the horrible realization that you’re lying on top of someone. You try and scoot back, whacking your head again and a sinking feeling as you feel plastic digging into your wrists, keeping them bound behind you.

It all comes flooding back.

Numerous gunshots go off as you slide down the ladder back to the ground floor, half expecting to find Leon bleeding out or even dead on the concrete. Instead, he’s being heaved up by his armpits, unconscious, and pushed into the trunk of one of the cars, half in, half out as one of the heavy-set men commences a search, confiscating a multitude of weapons with a scoff.

You can’t see any other bodies, which is strange. Is Kennedy getting slow in his old age?

At the other car, a man with a blonde pony-tail is bent down, talking through the window to someone you can’t see. “Go on ahead with the package.”

The driver seems to protest, but ponytail shakes his head.

“We’ll take the rat elsewhere, have some fun… We’ll join you back at base after. Go.” He thumps the top of the car with his fist to emphasize his point.

The idling car now hits the gas with gusto, the tyres burning against the concrete before it skids out of sight.

The heavy-set man seems to have concluded his search of the unconscious agent by then, finishing with what looks to be Leon’s phone. He considers it for a moment before he drops it to the floor and grinds it into the concrete with the heel of his shoe, the screen splintering and plastic cracking under his weight.

He then leans into the trunk before holding Leon’s arms behind his back and securing his wrists with what looks like a zip tie, before heaving up his legs and giving his ankles the same treatment.

You grit your teeth as you think – you don’t have much time. They’re not taking Leon to the HQ, so it’s not like you can catch up and let the rest of the squad know they’ve got a hostage.

The other car’s gone, one of the guys is distracted, if you just-

“Well, well…” There’s a gun pressed to the small of your back and your stomach sinks. You’d thought the two remaining were the ones you had in your eyesight, assuming three others had got back into the other car, but one seems to have been prowling. Fuck, you’re better than this usually. Are you and Kennedy both having an off day?

A thick forearm wraps around your throat in a headlock.

“Drop the gun.”

Before you can even think of how to get out of the hold, a knee is forced between your thighs, weakening your stance and preventing any sort of retaliation you might be able to achieve with your legs. The forearm tenses and cuts off all air, the order repeated and it is not until your grip on your gun goes limp, letting it drop to the floor that it relaxes, leaving you gasping for breath.

“We’ve already caught ourselves a rat this evening, suppose it makes sense we catch a mouse next.”

You try and throw your head back in desperation - if you break his nose he’ll definitely let go, but there’s not enough room and the arm around your throat squeezes again, but this time there is no relief, only a smug whisper in your ear.

“Sweet dreams, little mouse.”

 Everything went black.

You squint in the dark of what you assume is the car trunk – an eerie red glow emitting from the corners which you presume are the taillights – and your eyes slowly begin to adjust to find two icy blue ones staring up at you under familiar bangs. “Leon?” Your voice is a little hoarse, but it’s better than being dead.

“One and only. Gotta say, this is a surprise. Been a while.”

You try and roll off his chest entirely but it’s awkward and cramped. The trunk is not large enough to be accommodating two adults, let alone one as muscular as Leon. You manage to shift most of your weight off him, though your legs are somewhat still entangled, ankles crisscrossed together with the same zip tie treatment. You cough, trying to relieve the tightness in your throat. “What are you doing here? This is a BSAA op.”

“DSO had intel of a terrorist cell being supplied with virus samples.” He tries to shuffle back a little, take in your face after you lying atop of him unconscious for however long.

“It’s a fake – it’s our drop.”

“What?”

“I was doing surveillance to confirm they accepted the suitcase with the tracker – the rest of the pack is gonna intercept their base once co-ordinates are confirmed.”

You see him raise his eyebrow in the dim light. “Pack? Redfield still going by that wolf crap?”

 “Oh, because birds are so cool, right?” You retort, though you’re more annoyed at your situation than him.

“How’d they get you?”

“Does it matter?” You avoid the question, not wanting to tell him the real reason you’d got caught was because you’d been concerned seeing him being shoved into the trunk.

“We’ve gotta get out of these restraints. I can try and…” You trail off, your breath catching in your throat. You pull fruitlessly at the plastic holding your wrists, ignoring the sharp pain, and try and bring your knees up to your chest.

“Already tried, there’s not enough space.” Leon interjects. “Maybe if I was here solo…”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you mean to sound sarcastic, but with how you’re breathing it sounds more like a genuine apology. “I just thought it looked so fun when I saw you being kidnapped so I had to join in, you know?”

You’re breathing too heavy now, but it’s not getting down into your lungs. You’re not sure if it’s because your windpipe was crushed earlier, or that you’re on your side in an awkward position, or the fact that you’re stuffed in the trunk of a car with potentially limited oxygen.

Fuck.

“Hey.” Leon’s voice sounds foggy.

You shuffle as best you can, hoping a change in position might open up your airways, but it feels like as if the trunk is closing in around you.

“Hey. You good?”

“I…”

“You need to breathe deeper than that, okay?”

Deep down, in your logical mind, you know you do, but in the panic it’s just not happening, and your breaths grow only shallower. Your throat is too tight, the zip tie around your wrist and ankles is too tight, the space in here is too tight. Leon tenses his forearms behind his back for the umpteenth time, willing the plastic to break as he sees you falling further and further into distress. His words aren't getting through and he can't really touch you either, can't grab your hand or your shoulder and try and ground you for a moment to catch your breath. “I’m so sorry.” Leon throws his head forward and kisses you – not square on the lips, more at the corner of your open mouth, messy and awkward - but it’s enough to knock you out of hyperventilating as your scalp tingles.

“Breathe.” He orders, pulling back.

“You just-”

“Breathe. There’s plenty of oxygen in here – it’s not airtight. Breathe.”

You close your eyes and mouth and take a deep inhale through your nose, spluttering a little as you try to hold it. It takes a few cycles, Leon keeping silent as you gather your bearings, but eventually it steadies.

“Sorry.” You mumble, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry – I shouldn’t have kissed you, I just couldn’t think of how else to divert your focus.”

“No, it’s okay. Definitely worked.”

There’s an awkward silence before Leon shuffles ever so slightly.

“Promise you won’t tell Redfield? I’d rather not have my neck snapped.”

“Why would he do that?”

“You... You two aren’t a thing?”

“No.” Your brow furrows. “He’s my captain. My life’s already complicated enough fighting bioweapons without throwing in dating my superior.”

“Oh. I thought…” He shrugs as best as he can before you can see the infamous cocky grin. “Well, how about you and I grab dinner after this?”

“If there is an after this.” You try and swallow down the anxious feeling that’s crawling up from your stomach once more. “Being moved to a second location against your will is nev- Ugh!”

The car drives over a pothole but, thankfully, your head doesn’t collide with the top of the trunk. Leon groans as the impact threw him over onto his front before he mutters under his breath and starts to grind his hips.

“Holy shit.”

“What?”

“I think they missed a weapon.”

“Really?” Your voice perks up. “What?”

“A knife.”

“How’d they miss a knife?”

“Is that a complaint?” Leon scoffs.

“No, just seems a bit amateur hour. Can you reach it?”

“Not a chance, but, er…”, he clears his throat, “you might. We’re gonna have to try and adjust positions first, I’ll need your back to my chest.”

“Okay. Erm…” You scooch yourself forward with your hip and heel of your boot - easier said than done as the trunk grows narrower the further you go down, your knees bunching up towards your chest. “Like that?”

“Gimme a sec.” He responds through gritted teeth, trying to roll over again. Whatever make car this is, it’s not American – the trunk space is abysmal. Eventually, he manages it, shuffling himself forward until your fingers are pressed up against what feels like his chest.

“Hey!” He snaps with a poorly concealed laugh as your fingers twitch against the fabric. “That tickles.”

“Sorry – reflex. Where is it?”

“Well, put simply, my crotch.”

You give yourself a moment to let the words sink in.

“You keep a knife in your crotch? How have you not cut off your-?”

“It’s more a scalpel than a knife,” he cuts you off. “And it’s hidden away in the lining – in-built sheath – near the fly. Think you can find it?”

You close your eyes tight, thinking it might help you focus. Your thumb brushes up against something firm and you feel Leon tense behind you.

“Is that…?”

 “My jockstrap, thank you.” He clears his throat again. “Higher than that and more to the left.”

You try to follow his instructions, but it’s impossible to go any higher, unable to bend your elbows. “I don’t think I can. Can you shuffle down any?”

“Er…” He tries, shifting down an inch or so, his knees pressing into the back of yours in a spoon, his breath tickling your ear as he settles back down. “There. Bit to the left again.”

You close your eyes again, feeling the zip with your thumb and head to the left until you feel what feels like a thin tube.

“That?”

“Yep. Now, just try and bring it up and out. The blade’s at the bottom.”

That’s easier said than done as you press your thumbs either side of it and feel it move ever so slightly up. It’s a slow and steady process, not helped with the fact of how sweaty your palms are now getting with Leon pressed right up against you. “I think it’s nearly there. If the blade’s at the bottom, can you shuffle back? I don’t wanna slice you open.”

“You got a good grip?”

You swear you can hear the grin in his voice with that one.

“As good as I ever will.”

He scoots back a little, not as far as possible, but enough room so you can pull the scalpel implement up and twirl it around carefully in your grip so you can start to saw against the zip-tie.

“Got it.”

“Does it feel like it’s working?”

“Yeah. Just kinda awkwa-" There’s a stinging pain in your palm as the knife slices through and you hiss.

“What?”

“Got my palm.”

“Bad?”

“Had worse.” You bite your lip at the pain then, eyes squeezed shut again, trying to visualize what might be going on behind your back. Your movements are miniscule, a concern that that if you went any faster you’d slip in your enthusiasm and stab Leon.

It feels like hours when you finally feel the tension give and your wrists are free of the horrid plastic.  

“Got it. Just…” Mindful of your bleeding palm, you roll over with your good hand and lean up, pushing Leon face down so you can set to work on his wrists. It only takes a few confident saws, despite how slick your palm is with blood, before the agent groans and pulls his arms in front of him.

You pull your knees up to your chest and quickly slice through the restraints around your ankles, before handing the scalpel to Leon to do the same. His fingers pinch your other wrist instead, bringing your bleeding palm up close to his face to analyze in the dim light.

“Shit, that’s deep.”

“It’s fine,” you try and shake off his hold, but his grip remains firm.

“That’ll be the blood loss talking. Hold on.” He pulls up his shirt with his free hand and rips at the hem with his teeth, tearing off a rough strip, before he begins to wrap it around your palm in an attempt to stem the bleeding.

“There.” He announces, tying it off with a tight knot. “Not ideal, but it’ll have to do for now.”

“Thanks.” You cradle it back against your stomach and hand him over the blade so he can finally cut through the zip-tie around his ankles. It seems just in time too, as the car begins to slow.

“How do you want to play this?”

“You sit tight, I deal with whoever opens the trunk… then we go for dinner.”

“You know I am not a sit tight kinda gal, right?”

“We’ve only got one knife.”

“One scalpel.” You correct.

“Exactly.” The car stops.

“Roll over, face the back.” He orders, taking control. “I’ll go the other way – they won’t be able to see our hands. When they lean in to haul me out…”

The dulled sound of the car doors opening leaves you with no choice but to turn away as instructed and your hand brushes up against Leon’s as you tuck them back behind your back. With the hand that’s not holding the scalpel, he grabs hold of your uninjured hand and squeezes your fingers in reassurance.

The trunk opens.

Leon is peering through his lashes, bangs over his eyes, as his captor comes into view, gun raised. He nudges Leon’s shoulder with the barrel, watching the agent’s head lull back before holstering his weapon and preparing to heave Leon out of the trunk.

And that’s when he takes his chance, scalpel in hand, straight into the jugular, his other hand nabbing the gun out of the holster as he twists himself up and out of the trunk before the man can hit the ground.

Before you can get up to join him, he slams the trunk back down. You curse, hearing back and forth gunshots before the trunk opens again a few minutes later, Leon stood there with an apologetic smile.

“Coast is clear. We’re down at the docks – I can’t believe I let myself get caught by these amateurs.”

“Well, I can’t believe you shut the trunk on me!” You shuffle forward using your good hand, relieved to be sitting upright at last, legs dangling out from the trunk.

“I’m sorry - I know most guys bring their dates flowers,” he pulls another confiscated gun out of his back pocket – must be his prize from the other guy – and offers it out to you, “but something tells me you’d accept this instead?”

You take it with a smirk and a retort too good to pass up on. “You’re really gunning for this dinner date, huh, Kennedy?”

He leans forward and pushes you back into the trunk with a kiss.

--

This is so, so silly but I had fun x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

another Nimona fic, are we really surprised?

Nimona doesn’t know what to make of Ambrosius. 

Of course she knows who he is, everyone knows the golden boy, the descendant of Gloreth. Her first instinct is to hate him, to snarl and growl whenever he gets close. And at first she does. But that makes Ballister upset, he wants her to like him, even though she can’t see a single redeemable quality in him. 

So she keeps her glowering to herself and snarls at him whenever Bal can’t see it. Plus it’s fun to see him jump when she breathes fire a little too close to his hair. 

Eventually, she gets more used to him, but she doesn’t like him. It’s hard when they’re all living in the tower together, but she still finds ways to let Ambrosius know that he’s on thin ice with her. 

The first time her opinion of him shifts is when she is a cat walking through the tower. She can hear Bal talking and follows his voice, fluffy tail swaying behind her. She pads down the stairs and peers into the makeshift living room.

Perched where they can’t see her, Nimona sees Ambrosius and Ballister sitting on the couch. Bal is curled against his partner’s chest, tears visible on his cheeks as his whole body shakes. Ambrosius holds him tight, murmuring softly words that Nimona can’t hear.

“I feel so useless,” Ballister says softly.

“I’m sorry,” Ambrosius murmurs, running his fingers through Bal’s thick hair. The look on Ambrosius’s face is what gives her pause. In addition to love, there’s clear guilt. It sits in his brow and in the tension of his jaw. 

Nimona’s eyes fall to the metal arm sitting on the coffee table. It doesn’t take much to understand why Bal is upset, the robotic arm has been glitching more and more recently.

Nimona watches them for a long moment, she watches how Ambrosius wipes away Ballister’s tears and the strength in which he holds him and the way his comfort seems to diffuse all the tension in Bal. If Ballister feels so safe and comforted around him, maybe he’s not so bad after all.

Things like that start to happen more and more. Nimona notices how gentle and kind Ambrosius is with Ballister, even with her. He’ll touch Bal’s back or her head as he passes behind them, he learns how to make her favorite foods. But more than that, he is accepting. 

Every time she shifts in front of Ambrosius, she expects him to look at her in fear and disgust. Instead he smiles, and far too seriously says, “Metal.” She and Bal are rubbing off on him apparently. She can’t say that she doesn’t like it.

When Ambrosius is making dinner, he’ll always let her steal some of the ingredients, he won’t even snap at her, which takes away half the fun. Ballister will hug him from behind and kiss the back of his head. They’re so mushy together, it’s gross sometimes. 

But her feelings about Ambrosius change completely one night. 

She’s in the middle of a nightmare, rapidly shifting between animals, curling smaller and smaller in on herself. And suddenly she’s shaken awake. Expecting Ballister, she barely even opens her eyes before throwing herself against his chest.

Ambrosius lets out a soft, “Oof,” but holds her nonetheless.

When she realizes who it is, she freezes and tries to pull away. Ambrosius lets her, but looks down at her with a concerned frown. His hair is braided back out of his face, allowing her to read him more clearly. His voice is almost unbearably gentle as he says,“You’re okay, Nim. You’re safe.”

She swallows thickly and pulls her knees to her chest, shifting into the younger version of herself almost instinctively. She’s not sure why, but being like this makes it easier for her to accept comfort. 

Her hair falls into her face and Ambrosius reaches out and smooths back her hair with a soft touch. “Want to talk about it?”

She shakes her head and asks him, “Why are you here?”

“Because you were having a nightmare,” he tells her gently. “I got up to get some water and I heard you. Is that alright?”

Nimona’s heart clenches in her chest. He came to wake her up, to comfort her even though he used to hate her, even though he called her a monster. He cares about her, he must or he wouldn’t be here. Maybe he’s not so bad.

Ever so tentatively, she leans back into his chest. Just as slowly, Ambrosius embraces her again, pulling her into his arms. He’s warmer than Bal, she realizes, but not as soft. But just like Ballister always does, he cradles the back of her head. Despite herself, the gesture brings her an immense amount of comfort, chasing the nightmares all but away. 

Maybe, she thinks, she could be his sidekick too.

[mysicklove]

Fucking werewolf Katsuki BUT BUT BUT-

He’s wearing a muzzle 🤭🤭🤭

Warnings: Muzzling obvi, riding, biting previously referred to

he hates it. it’s so degrading, humiliating to his kind. if his past self saw him in the position he was in now, he would flip his shit.

but for now, he stares, more like glares at you from below you. his hands are tied behind his back so he doesn’t tear it off, and you are riding his lap.

he’s moaning under his breath, and refusing to look at you, embarrassed about the whole situation

you tap on the metal muzzle and his ears pin back. his eyes flicker to your face and he tries to look angry, but the way your moving on his cock is making him shiver. “Kats, don’t be embarrassed,” you coo, pressing a kiss to his forehead

his face heats up and you can hear the thumping sound of his tail his tail hitting the bed. “i-it’s humiliating,” he whispers, gripping the pillow behind when you begin to instead grind on him.

his eyes linger at your hips, wishing he could grab onto them to support your movements. make you move faster.

“aw, but puppy, you know you have a biting problem,” you tease, tracing the abundance of bite marks littered upon your skin. he claims it helps ward other wolves off, something to do with your scent being covered. you know it was all an act, he was a possessive bastard

“p-please?” he murmurs, eyes slightly rolling back, when you bring your hands to the both of his ears. “won’t bite. won’t bite. i won’t. please!”

it was a lie and the both of you know it. you’ve been in this position before, and every time you agree to his plea, his canines are always digging into your skin not even minutes later.

you continue your administrations on his ears, using it as leverage to help you bounce. “but puppy, you look so pretty in it. want you to cum without biting me”

he heaves, head falling forward and onto your chest. the thought makes him him whine. it always did feel better with his teeth in you. marked up for him; his, his, his.

but you were fucking him senseless, so even if the muzzle was humiliating and frustrating, he wasn’t about to complain. too much at least. “fuck. fine.”

“such a good puppy!”

his tail begins its wagging again and he already is planning where to bite when you take the ridiculous thing off