lvl 141 yume

For a moment Simon wanted to point out that he wasn’t a dog, but your anger was so fucking hot that he felt himself chub up. His eyes flickered to look over at his team for half a second, visible in the light from the pub, before a small smile on his lips appeared. Then he dutifully let himself fall down on his knees again; he was still tall like this but you were a bit taller though not much.

“Was it or was it not a deal?” You asked, arms crossed, leaning forward a bit. Simon had to fucking focus to not look at your tits.

You don’t have to show me anything, or be anyone else. If this is how you survive, at least let me fix that little wooden tail.

-BONUS-

Initial idea for the third and fourth panel :3

Hanging out

You wake up in a dark room and to a pounding headache. You can feel your pulse beating in the back of your eyes and your temples, everything hurts, your eyes are groggy and you can’t really remember the last thing that happened.

You try to lift your hands to rub away the headache and the pain in your head, only to find resistance, besides the weakness you feel over your whole body. You try lifting your arms a few more times and when your hearing finally kicks in and your ears stop ringing, you finally listen to the click click of… chains? Why aren’t your hands chained down?

You try to lift your head to look down at yourself but apparently there are some ties holding your head down too. There’s some sort of leather strap over your forehead and it’s tight enough you can’t even turn your head to the side.

Okay, now you’re panicking. Breaths quickening, eyes darting around as much as they can, hands desperately trying to free themselves from the chains. You hear crying distantly, and it makes you even more nervous, only for your brain to catch up and realize that it’s you.

A loud sob escaped your mouth, and you prepare to scream, but then there’s a soft hum close by and you still immediately, all muscles tensing, preparing for your fight or flight instinct. Although… you can’t really do either of those, considering your condition.

A hooded figure appears in your periphery and you whimper at how fucking creepy he looks, the dark hood hiding his whole face, two holes that you think are at the height of his eyes? But there’s not enough light to actually see, so you’re left there, breathing harshly and so fucking scared for yourself.

The figure coos, a soft noise meant for scared animals, and lifts a hand towards your cheek. You whimper as his cold hand touches your skin, scared he might hurt you, but he… he fixes a strand of your hair close to your ear and you try to slow down your breathing.

“Finally woke up, ja?” he has a strong accent and his voice is definitely- higher than you would’ve expected from someone so big. He doesn’t sound angry, so there’s something.

You try to speak, ask who he is, where you are, why are you tied up- but all that comes out is a rough noise, it hurts your throat to speak and you wince, whimpering as your bottom lip wobbles, ready to cry again.

“Oh I know, you’re so thirsty aren’t you? That’s okay.” he steps away and you’re ready to panic again, what is he going to do? Is he getting some knives or weapons? Fuck, what are you going to do-! But then he comes back with… what seems to be a cup of water and a straw?

“Asking so nicely for wasser, already so suße.” you don’t understand all of the words but you can try to guess what they mean. He brings the cup closer to your mouth and helps you grab the straw with your lips. You take a tentative sip and when nothing really happens besides your throat feeling soothed by the just slightly chilly water, you drink it down so quickly you end up choking on some of it.

“Agh, dumme sache.” he takes away the straw and lets you cough a couple times before you can breathe normally again.

You didn’t notice it before, brain slow and focused on other things, but now that you’re not thirsty, that you’re not- too- worried about you safety, you can feel the cold on your body and when his freezing hand moves to touch your chest, slowly following the curve of your body towards your nipple, which receives a few gentle flicks, and lower, lower to between your legs, you realize you’ve been naked the whole time.

“What- why am I here? What do you want from me?” your voice is quiet, a little raw from disuse, you try to keep your anxiety in check and not panic again, especially when the man laughs quietly, the sound wicked in the dark room.

“Simple.” his hand taps the skin where your thigh meets your hips and you whimper at the touch, thighs clenching at the touch. The gentle tapping distracting you enough that you almost don’t hear his next sentence. Almost.

cw: the warning is in the title, pervert Ghost

Taking the to-go cup of coffee you threw out in the trash and bringing it to his lips, imagining how the sugary drink coating his tongue tastes like the inside of your mouth. Throwing his head back to get every last drop.

Ghost who's always forgetting his own cigarettes and takes one from you. Is that your last one? Don't worry, he doesn't mind sharing it, also ignore the prolonged eye contact when he passes it back. As soon as you leave, he pockets the cigarette stump, perioadically sucking on it in his room for the rest of the day.

Simon who stole your favourite spoon one time, but had to return it subtly because you refused to eat with any other one. He waits until you're done eating and then very generously offers to do the dishes just so he can take his time licking your spoon, sucking on the bits of food until it's clean.

Ghost who you find sleeping with your dirty sheets on his bed and try subtly asking him if he has money problems. He says he just mixed up the laundry in the dark and you choose to believe him because he pays the bigger part of the rent. It's a good thing he had his balaclava on, otherwise you could have seen the flushed expression on his face or maybe his clothes thrown off the side of the bed, barely containing not to touch himself while talking to you.

You recently bought some new perfume, a thick rich scent that only serves to amplify your own natural musk, and ghost is obsessed.

Worse than that is how you love to reapply it all the time, subtle to humans but he's practically choking on that delicious scent from you. Anything of his that you touch picks up the scent, as if you were some coy wolf trying to get a sense of ghosts mating prospects.

He raises his brow when you stay back after a meeting to reapply, hovering just a touch too close so he can smell the minute change it takes on upon touching your skin "new perfume, sergeant? It's nice."

"Hm? Oh, yeah! I like the earthy stuff," you tell him, dropping the tiniest bit of oil onto your wrist and rubbing them together. The sight has ghosts stomach turning, knowing if you were a wolf hybrid the room would reek from that action. "Do you want to try some? It's pretty strong."

"Hm—?" Before ghost can even speak, you're already slipping a hand under the hem of his balaclava to rub a bare wrist into the skin of his next. "Fuck–! Ohh...hm....!"

A deep, pleased rumble spills out of ghost, and not seconds later you're being pinned to the meeting table, ghosts whole body on top of yours with lidded eyes. "christ love, do thst again."

"What...ghost?" You mumble, dazed, hand still under the mask. "I– I mean– you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." Ghost whines, ears pinning. A large, clawed hand wraps around your forearm, manually moving your wrist against his skin. His whole body shudders "fuck! Mhhh keep going. Like that."

"Holy– is this like...a thing for you?" You grin, ignoring the stretch of your thighs being pushed so far apart for him to grind his bulge against you. Ghost rumbles and grunts, all animal.

He couldn't explain the fact you're practically claiming him as your mate, or at least your breeding bitch, not like you'd care much when his eyes go all glossy under the mask "please– please, love, please. I need–"

"Go on, ghost, I want to see this." You urge. that one chat about soaps partners coming to mind, you shove a hand into ghosts pants and wrap a firm grip over his knot.

"Fuck! Holy– hmmm! Thank you!" He pants, tail thrashing behind him. You watch, enraptured, as a large wet patch forms in the front of his jeans. Christ, that's a lot of cum.

he buys a cheap homestead in the middle of nowhere, next to some little town that’s barely a smudge on the maps.

it’s run-down, barely held together by rusty nails and rotting wood— but it gives him something to do, gives him something to think about and plan an approach to. lets his mind work again instead of spending day after day in front of the telly.

he works. chops wood, fixes up the holes and gaps in the walls, replaces the shoddy generators, clears up the path to his little cabin. his back and knees ache at the exertion but his heart paces a steady, familiar thrum.

then one day— a sweet little thing lands right on his doorstep.

you, smiling shyly and holding a basket full of colorful preserve.

hi! i live over there, across the fences-- we're neighbors! thought i'd bring you a housewarming gift. do you like berries? i..

and he just can't say no, can he? because you are the one who comes to him first, inviting yourself into his little corner of the woods.

(ghost is caught the moment the door opens. the sickly sweet preserve gets all over his palms, fingers, and tongue. sticky and syrupy.

he'll lick his fingers clean, then dip them back into the jar for more.

something I used to draw😋

You make it very easy to do so.

Telling him you missed him when he comes back, always making something special for him to eat after coming back from a long deployment, stealing barrow his hoodies if they're left in the open, the little texts you send to check in on him.