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#the ears and snout are back
0p1er0 · 4 months
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The joy of looking up stuff that describes you then finding the community and how open they are and how you can be accepted accepted accepted.
Just to remember you hide your real self, who you are, because your family and friends don't know and wouldn't accept you.
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liteee · 1 year
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wolf re-design
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vic-does-battlecats · 3 months
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You’re telling me this squirrel flies??
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fauchart · 2 years
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New reference sheet for Morribel!
She sure changed a lot from her original one, time flies!
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skunkes · 1 year
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thsi is so mean and evil but sometimes I'll stress over not drawing smunker accurately enough and then immediately have my worries quelled upon looking at. any given popular [within fandom] rendition. Of an anthropomorphic skunk.
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orbdog · 1 year
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oooooo-shiny · 1 month
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NO ONE TOLD ME RHINOS HAVE GOOD SHAPES???
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LOOK AT THOSE THINGS. PEAK SHAPE
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eduardo9997 · 3 months
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Being human is so unfair, every animal in the world is covered head to toe in fur while we get to be giant flesh monoliths
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specshroom · 1 month
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So I read that lemurs scoop their competitor's sperm out of females with their tongues. I don't actually know if that's true but...
JUST IMAGINE.
You're found by a troop of these half lemur half human creatures in the forest. Basically a human but with lemur traits, striped tails, huge eyes, furry ears, little snouts and long prehensile tongues, the whole shabang.
It's not long before one or two of them are rubbing up on you, rubbing their scent glands on you which, unbeknownst to you, works as a pretty strong aphrodisiac to humans.
They struggle your back pack and clothes off, leaving you just as naked as they are. You might have been more concerned about that if it wasn't for one of them shoving his strange tongue down your throat and rubbing the scent glands on his wrists all over your naked skin. The pheromones have made you putty in their hands. Two kneel on the ground in front of you and lick up your thighs, feverishly sniffing and lapping at your wet pussy.
After a bit of a skirmish one of them finally mounts and fucks you, much to the others displeasure. It's fast and needy, his arms holding you around the waist to hit those good spots inside you. As you look up at the trees you notice there are many more in this troop than you realised, watching you from the high branches.
The one fucking you finally cums deep inside you. He licks and nibbles at your tits until another one gets impatient and pushes him off starting a fight between them. The sneaky third one takes this opportunity to shove his long tongue into your pussy and scoop out the first's cum, repeatedly dragging his rough tongue along your walls. When he feels he's dragged out enough cum he quickly thrusts himself inside you and fucks you at an alarming pace. Biting your shoulder and neck with his small but sharp teeth. His balls slap against your ass as his load replaces the first one's.
Imagine this process just repeating over and over again, they almost make a game of it. One cums inside and another scoops it out again and again. You can do little but lay there and moan on the forest floor, absolutely cock drunk, just being filled and emptied and filled and emptied.
You become the troops new play thing or maybe you'll join the troop if one of their many loads takes.
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roecomplex · 10 months
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games and media are always so scared of post-transformation permenance, like, there should be some aspect that stays with the character forever!!
Say they turn into a dragon, let them keep the horns and scars and patches of scales after they turn back!!! Let snouts and animal ears and patches of fur stick!!
Or even mannerisms!! Let the hoarding tendancies or animal noises or ways of affection define them after the fact!!!!
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steddielations · 7 months
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There’s a dog that comes around the trailer park when Eddie moves in with Wayne, back when his head was shaved and his eyes were still haunted by the walls of his dad's house. No one wanted to play with the gaunt looking weird kid, so the first friend he made in Hawkins was this big brown dog, way bigger than any others. It was almost scary, wolf-like but he acted like a puppy, nudging Eddie with his snout, cheering him up, always wanting to play like maybe it was lonely too.
Then Eddie made friends at school, the dog visited less as he got older and more sure of himself, denouncing cliques, especially the jocks who lorded over everyone. The dog stopped visiting entirely and Eddie started to worry something happened to it.
Years later, he spots it with Robin Buckley of all people. She’s talking to it, which might seem strange but Eddie always felt like the dog was a good listener too. After that, he tries to find his old friend again and one night, he catches a glimpse of him but he disappears into the woods.
Instead, Eddie sees Steve Harrington later that night, disheveled and dirtied, total opposite to his usual pristine polos and perfect hair. It’s so out of place, the first of many times that Eddie sees him while out looking for the dog. Eddie never says anything, can’t imagine Steve reacting well to a moonlight conversation with the freak. Sure, Steve was iced out of the popular crowd for reasons all around the rumor mill, made an odd match with Robin at their mall job before the fire, and weirdly enough the new Hellfire boys seem to worship the ground he walks on, but Eddie has no impression of Steve beyond that.
Then Chrissy Cunningham dies in his living room. Eddie runs like hell, terrified and ashamed, hiding in the boathouse. He feels like a scared kid again and finds himself wishing for the dog, his first friend that never judged him and always made him feel safe.
That’s when an unlikely group shows up and Eddie has no time to hide, like they tracked him there by scent. Steve Harrington rushes right to him with big brown puppy eyes that feel so familiar somehow, so comforting. Stunned, Eddie lets Steve wrap him in a warm hug, nuzzling his ear with soft assurances, “Hey, it’s okay. I’m so glad we found you. You’re okay.”
To Eddie's amazement, his body just melts into Steve’s embrace, like greeting an old friend.
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forlix · 3 months
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𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・1.2k / 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・chan x gn!reader / 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲𝘀・fluff, hurt/comfort, established relationship, berry being the perfect girl she is. inspired by these bubble messages and @cosmic-railwayxo's treachery. (love u deni)
𝟬𝟲:𝟯𝟲 — “Where’s my baby, hm?”
This is the question on Chan’s lips the moment he lets go of the bedroom door, closed with agonizing caution as to not wake the figure still curled up under the duvet inside.
It’s early. Early enough so the walls are colored a rich beige by new rays of sunlight, so his footsteps are the only sound reverberating around the hallways when he commences his search. Early enough to evidence how he was only bestowed a few hours of sleep before waking up with a budding headache and leaden eyelids.
But he doesn’t mind the lack of rest, not this time. Not when there’s a wad of love with a freckled snout and floppy ears under the same roof for the first time in too long.
“Berry?” Chan calls, his voice tattered and low, like sandpaper. He rakes his eyes over the spots he remembers to be her favorite. Maybe they’ve changed since he was last home. Maybe everything has changed since he was last home.
The thought causes a familiar pang to go off within him, poignant and powerful, but the quiet scuffle of paws against hardwood takes the edge off the guilt straightaway.
Chan finds the beginnings of a smile on his lips before she even rounds the corner, and when she does, well. His grin might as well split his face down the middle. He’s on his knees in seconds, outstretched hands rediscovering home in the puppy’s silky fur as she clambers onto him with blown pupils and excited pants.
His adoring coos of her name falter into muted laughter, which then fragments into a sob. His vision narrows to his precious girl and then starts to blur. When Berry climbs up to give his cheek a few happy licks, she’s fascinated by its saltiness.
You emerge from the bedroom a little over an hour later. Sleeping is hard enough when you’re jetlagged, and even harder when there’s only mattress where you remember Chan’s warm solidity to be. The fabric of Chan’s hoodie suppresses your vocalization of his name as you ungracefully pull it over your torso, still struggling to rouse your body from sleep.
Your beckon produces no response. You wrap a hand around the nearest door frame and peek your head into the living room, a little more alert now.
“Chan? Baby?”
You feel silly. How many visits has it been for you to still feel this nervous, wandering around Chan’s family home? Yet you undoubtedly are, whether because of your absentee boyfriend or that his whole family is a few walls away. You pad through the silent abode with mounting trepidation and intense care to not make any more sound than necessary.
Then you reach the family room and instantly come to a standstill, hands drifting to your sides, features deliquescing to a soft smile. 
Lying on the nearest couch is your boyfriend, head propped up on top of his elbow, his fluttering lashes and gently oscillating shoulders indicating that he’s asleep. You can’t see his face below his eyes, as he has his nose nuzzled into the Cavalier spaniel resting securely in his arms, snoring tacitly into his sleeve, slumbering as deeply as her human companion.
You’ve been stumbling upon Chan sleeping in unexpected places for the better part of two years now, but you still liquefy every time as if it’s the first. These are the moments, you’ve come to realize, when you can care for him in ways he would never let you while conscious: a lift of his laptop off his thighs, a brush of your lips against his hairline, a cardigan draped lightly over his back. These are the moments when you understand in full how far you’ve come together, for him to trust you with his exhaustion with such transparency, to be so vulnerable as to leave you with memories of him that he’ll never have.
Despite your prolonged experience, it’s hard to describe what exactly you’re feeling in this moment. The mere mention of Berry has always dissipated the shadows that veil his face, has always chased off the burdens that cling to his spine. How do you put it into words, seeing your happiness at his happiest?
It suddenly occurs to you that the window beside them is cracked open. That, and you spotted extra quilts in the top shelf of Chan’s closet last night.
Chan’s eyelids lift when he feels the gentle weight of a blanket fall upon his body; so do the corners of his lips, when the culprit materializes before him. Sitting on the edge of the couch, a hand hovering over his frame, face creased into a flinch.
“Sorry,” you whisper, closing the distance between your fingers and the curve of his neck. The pad of your thumb moves over his cheekbone like a willow branch skimming water. “I didn’t think that would wake you up.”
Both of you up, you mentally amend, seeing as Berry has noticed your presence and is wagging her tail with enough vigor for it to thump against Chan’s chest. He lets her wriggle out of his arms and into yours; you emit a noise of glee and gather her into you.
If only you had seen the expression he wears then, watching your eyes scrunch closed at the frenzied kisses she presses to your face. His first love and his very last.
“Don’t apologize,” he answers. “I’m the one who should be sorry for leaving you in bed, I just…”
His voice trails off, but he knows by the softness in your irises when they meet his that you already know.
You move like clockwork. Chan presses up into the back of the couch, the quilt’s edge lifted in wordless invitation. It is your chest that Berry burrows into this time, the top of her head sliding into the space between your chin and the sofa’s cushion. It is Chan’s chest that you’re folded into, the arms around your waist like the coziest of cabins in a sun-spattered wood. It is the back of your neck that he nuzzles his nose into, but not before he litters gossamer kisses across the expanse of skin, as if printing the notes to a lullaby he knows well.
Everything is warm, so warm, so right, and jetlag starts to feel like a distant trouble.
You open your mouth while teetering on the cusp of a dream.
“Baby?” 
He hums into you, listening.
“Always be happy, okay?”
You don’t notice the solitary tear that traverses the bridge of his nose, lands in the cotton of your hood, and dyes the bunched-up fabric a few shades darker. You don’t notice how his embrace around you tightens marginally, like how one’s eyes can’t help but find their dearest possession when the building’s on fire.
“Okay,” he whispers, and kisses your nape once more. Your and Chan’s eyes close together. Berry licks your chin again, then follows suit.
(Another hour later, Chan’s parents walk into the family room. They decide to go out to breakfast for fear of making too much noise in the kitchen, Chan’s mother blotting away tears as she ducks into shotgun, Chan’s father laughing at her sentimentality while blinking back his own.
Another few hours later, Hannah takes maybe fifty-some photographs of the triad of unmoving heaps occupying their couch. Then she grumbles at Berry for being dead asleep at eleven in the morning: “Those two arrived here from across the world yesterday. What’s your excuse?”)
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🔖 (send an ask or reply to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp・ @automaticpersonabatpaper・@aceofvernons・@linos-kitten・@newhope8
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© 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘅 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support.
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siriuslovebot · 9 months
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˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆 ➸ 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒖𝒔 𝒍𝒖𝒑𝒊𝒏 ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵𝒀𝑴𝑶𝑼𝑺 𝑨𝑺𝑲𝑬𝑫: hi! can i please request a remus x reader in which the reader has always had a huge crush on him, but thought the feelings were unrequited? she lets the secret slip to lily & marlene and somehow it gets back to remus who finds it very endearing and teases her a bit?
𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: shy!reader, playful teasing, the pet name mouse, some suggestive dialogue but nothing explicit. 
𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀: the reader has always had a huge crush on remus. the girls find out and marlene accidentally lets it get back to remus. 
𝑨/𝑵: thank you for your request, lovely anon! i’ve luckily got a few requests that i’m working on, so thank you all for being patient with me. i also want to say thank you for all of the love on my last post! i was very nervous about my first post and i received so much love and support! requests are still open, and as always feedback is greatly appreciated!
𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻: 4.1k 𓂃♡₊⭑
·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺
        “morning, mouse.”
        there’s a teasing touch to remus’s voice as he slides into the seat beside you. you glance at him out of the side of your eye as you take your potions textbook out of your bag, placing it gently on the table. a huff leaves your lips.
         “are you lot ever gonna let that go?” you frown, crossing your arms as you turn to him. 
         there’s a soft smile playing on his lips, and a chuckle from sirius behind him as he joins the pair of you at the table.
         “never gonna forget the look on mcgonagall’s face when she turned around,” says sirius brightly. you scowl at him, wanting to wipe the stupid amused grin right off of his face. 
        “shut up,” you say.
         “it wasn’t so bad. you had a rather cute little snout…” remus touches a finger to the tip of his nose, his smile slowly changing from gentle to a rather shit-eating one. 
        “oh come on, how many people can say they turned themselves into a mouse, y/n? takes proper skill to cast a spell without realizing your wand is turned the wrong way.” 
        your face flushes pink. “i–i was distracted!” you defend. 
        “distracted, that’s right… chatting away to moony and casting spells at the same time. how’ve you gone this long without blowing yourself to pieces?”
        you stick your tongue out at him, shoving his shoulder and laughing as he tumbles halfway off of his seat. he catches himself, making a face as he regains his spot. 
        “watch yourself, black,” you threaten. “how’d you like to be a dog permanently?”
        “double check you’ve your wand turned the right way ‘round this time, yeah?”
        there’s a thumping noise as you backhand his arm, and he winces dramatically.
        “all right, you two,” says remus, voice amused. “slughorn’s here.”
        chastised, you and sirius settle into your seats. the chattering of the rest of the class settles, and professor slughorn directs you to open your books to the correct chapter. you shift in your seat, glancing over at remus as he gathers his potions ingredients. his elbow nudges yours as he adjusts his cauldron.
        “sorry, mouse,” he says offhandedly. though you insist you hate the silly nickname, the sound of him saying it makes your stomach do a little flip. your neck and ears burn, but you say nothing, instead focusing on the task at hand. sirius is distracted by james mouthing something at him across the classroom, which has caught lily’s attention as well. her gaze catches you for a second, and you hope she’s too far away to see the flustered expression decorating your features as you scramble to start on your potion.
        invested in your textbook, you don’t notice when james makes his way over to your table, peering into your cauldrons as he returns from the class stores, having run out of one of his ingredients. “wonder why old sluggy’s got us brewing beautification potions,” he comments, making a face as he peers from sirius’s potion to remus’s. 
        “probably heard about y/n’s incident in transfiguration,” said sirius slyly, nudging your shoulder. your mouth falls open as james laughs.
         “pads,” remus warns, throwing him a sharp glance.
        sirius’s clear eyes dart between you and remus, and he holds his hands up in surrender. “sorry,” he says, “didn’t mean it, honest. y’know i think you’re fit, y/n.” he flashes a smile, turning on the charm.
         you roll your eyes. “you’re a right git, you know that?”
         “oh, come on. i’d have snogged the lights out of you by now if lily didn’t have her bloody rules,” he continues, back to his potion. james sniggering laugh fades as he returns to his table with lily and peter. 
         “‘m going to pretend i didn’t hear that,” says remus.
         “likewise,” you agree, an incredulous laugh bubbling in your chest. sirius responds with a noncommittal shrug, sprinkling a handful of rose petals into his potion without a care in the world. 
˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪
        “so, mouse, how’d your study session in the library go?” the sound of the nickname coming in lily’s teasing voice causes your face to burn hot. 
        you turn towards her, having just pulled your nightgown over your head. you make a face, raking a hand through your hair as you flop onto your bed. marlene’s sprawled on her stomach at the end of your bed, flicking through a muggle magazine that lily brought back from holiday. 
        “not you too!” you complain, sighing heavily.
        “i’m only teasing,” she says, leaning against the windowsill with her arms crossed over her chest. her lips are curled up in amusement, features slightly shadowed by the moonlight spilling in through the window behind her.
        “i’ll never be y/n again. i’m gonna be mouse for the rest of my life at this rate,” you grumble, frustrated. “i mean, you accidentally transfigure yourself one time, and suddenly you’ve got a stupid nickname for life…”
        marlene giggles at your dramatics, dropping the magazine onto your bed. “i think you’ll be okay. seems like james and sirius have gotten all of their fun out of it…” she trailed thoughtfully. “sirius was having the most fun with it, and even he was back to calling you y/n by the end of dinner.”
        “remus, though,” lily begins, her eyes flashing with mischief. “seems like he really likes it.”
        you swallow hard, trying not to think of the way your heart pounds at the sound of the silly nickname in his voice. tearing your eyes away from lily, you try to mask the embarrassment blooming on your face. even when the pair of you went to the library after your evening meal, he had taken to calling you ‘mouse’ without even realizing it. almost affectionately. you’d been reeling with butterflies the entire time, unable to focus on studying for your upcoming exams. 
        “kind of endearing, isn’t it?” continues marlene. “i mean, he gets this dreamy sort of look in his eyes when he’s talking to you… and it’s sort of a sweet nickname, if you think about it…”
        “oh, come on,” you interject, as if they’re being ridiculous. 
        “no, honestly, y/n, you’re a bit oblivious,” lily adds. “he definitely thinks you’re fit.”
        marlene smiles as you glance between the two of them, nodding her head in agreement. “and don’t lie and say you don’t feel the same way,” she warns.
        “guys–”
        lily narrows her eyes at you, “no lying.”
        “i see you going all starry-eyed when you’re with him!” marlene sits up at the end of your bed, clasping her hands in her lap as she looks at you expectantly. “i’d bet ten galleons you curl up in your bed at night and dream of snogging remus lupin.”
        “oh my godric,” you mutter, placing your hands to your burning face. you can’t bear to look either of them in the eye. you hate that they know you so well, and even worse that you’re doing a horrible job of hiding your crush on one of your best friends. it’s a miracle that no one’s gone blasting it all over the school yet. 
        “so it’s true?” lily prompts, leaning in to better hear your admission of guilt.
        you huff, “don’t make me admit it.” your voice comes out as a whine, and that’s how they know they’ve got you. your secret has been exposed, and they’re having a giggling fit over it. 
        “next thing you know we’ll be finding moony and the mouse, curled up snogging in the common room,” says marlene, sounding smug. 
       “shut up,” you plead, though you can’t help the stupid smile that comes onto your lips as you shake your head. 
        “breaking all sorts of rules,” says lily. “including mine!”
        lily’s one explicit rule: no marauders hooking up with her friends. a tried and true method of keeping the boys (mostly sirius) out of yours and marlene’s pants. it’s been foolproof.
        “oh, shove it with the rules, evans,” marlene retorts. “you’d forget all about them once the four of you can go on silly little double dates.”
        you feign a gag, and it sends them both into fits of laughter. “i am not going on any double dates.”
        “no,” says lily, breathless, “i don’t think remus would like that very much, either…”
˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪
        “where’s your chaperone, mckinnon?” it’s sirius, lounging on one of the sofas in the gryffindor common room. his wand is in his hand, flicking back and forth as he sends a tiny spark of light bouncing around the common room. he’s bored, waiting for the return of remus and james, probably to cause some trouble.
        marlene crosses her arms over her chest. “she’s wrapped around your best friend, black,” she says, a faux-disgusted look plastered on her face. “they’re in a broom closet, snogging each other’s faces off…”
        “ugh,” sirius says, dropping his wand as he leans up on his elbows to meet marlene’s gaze. “i showed james that bloody closet. now he’s gone and defiled it…” he flops back onto the couch, looking slightly sickened. 
        “can’t keep their hands off each other, the pair of them,” sirius continues after a moment.
        marlene laughs, settling into one of the plush armchairs near the sofa sirius occupies. “you’re telling me.”
        “what about moony?” sirius asks. 
        “studying with y/n.”
        sirius nods, having expected that answer. “y’know, they’re as bad as lily and james. worse, i think,” he says. “it’s a nightmare, having to watch him fawn over her like a little lost puppy. i mean, ‘m supposed to be the canine here…” he shakes his head.
        “you should hear y/n,” marlene counters. she’s not thinking as she speaks to sirius, not realizing she’s going on about your crush that you explicitly asked her not to discuss with anyone, especially not james or sirius. “the girl’s just dreaming of being shoved into a broom closet with remus. i wish they’d get over themselves and get a room.” 
        there’s a second of quiet between them, before marlene realizes what she’s just done. her eyes widen, and she blinks as sirius turns to look at her. she opens her mouth, though no words come out for a moment. “sirius–”
        “well, i don’t know about shoving but–”
        “sirius, listen to me,” marlene threatens, her voice sharp. “you can’t say anything. please. y/n will kill me.”
        “ah, marls, that ship has sailed,” he laughs, sitting up. “moony’s in for a treat.” he practically leaps from his place on the sofa, looking awfully haughty as he plans to expose the blooming feelings between the two of his friends. 
        “sirius!” she hisses. “i’ll give you five galleons to keep it to yourself. please.”
         sirius tuts, shaking his head. “sorry, love. i’ve no need for your money. besides, i’m doing all of us a favor here.”
         marlene deflates before him, feeling extremely defeated as she watches sirius leave the common room, a new swagger in his step. dread clouds her senses as she realizes she’s going to have to tell you that she revealed your crush on remus. 
˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪
         “you’re looking awfully chipper this morning,” comments sirius, eyes skirting over you as you join him in the corridor. 
        “it’s hogsmeade weekend,” you say simply, hooking your arm through his to lead him down to the entry hall. it seems the rest of your friends have left already, none of them keen on waiting for you to return from the greenhouses this morning after helping professor sprout harvest flobberworm mucous for extra credit. “thanks for waiting for me, by the way.”
        “someone had to,” he says, sounding a bit sheepish. 
        you roll your eyes, used to his faux disdain at your expense. “how’s moony?” you ask as you join the rest of the students making their way down to hogsmeade. the full moon was a couple nights ago, and you hadn’t seen your beloved lycanthrope in far too long. he tended to avoid you when it was, ahem, that time of the month, and though you thought it was unnecessary during the day, you understood. sirius and james could deal with him when he was in that state, but none of them liked to risk having you or the girls anywhere near his furry little problem. it was thoughtful, honestly. 
        “exhausted,” replies sirius. “he wanted to wait for you, but lily didn’t want to leave him alone. reckon she was scared he’d fall asleep standing up and get a concussion.”
        you laugh half-heartedly and wonder why remus didn’t decide to stay behind and get some sleep. you worried about him, oftentimes wondering if he was truly taking care of himself properly. each time he went out to the shrieking shack he returned with new scars, looking more and more ill as the weeks went on. it was a wonder he was managing his classes and keeping decent marks. 
        you chatter back and forth as you make your way to hogsmeade, sirius recounting their latest excursion in the shrieking shack. you finally make it to hogsmeade, spotting lily’s bright hair shining in the sun, and the goofy look on james’s face as he does some impersonation of one of your classmates, that you just happen to catch the tail-end of.
        “who’s that you’re mocking, prongs?” you raise your eyebrows, arms crossed as the group begins marching towards the three broomsticks. 
        “i’ll have a guess,” says sirius. he thinks it over for a second, then a lightbulb seems to go off in his head. “that hufflepuff fifth year, what’s his name? the burly one, tried out for seeker and wrecked his broom into the stands?”
        james erupts into a fit of cackling laughter, nodding his head. “yes, yes!” he claps, looking quite pleased with his interpretation of the hufflepuff boy’s less than graceful dismount. remus laughs softly, while marlene rolls her eyes. 
        “not everyone is as adept as you on a broomstick, potter,” says marlene.
        “i’m only joking,” james says, shrugging. “‘sides, it’s not like anyone’s gonna tell the poor guy. what he doesn’t know, won’t hurt him.” the dark-haired boy winks as he opens the door to the three broomsticks, waving you all inside. 
        you nudge remus in the side as you stand in the crowd, waiting to push through the gaggles of students to find a table big enough to fit all of you. 
        “hello, mouse,” he says, voice tired although he’s sporting his usual smile. sirius was right. he looks awfully haggard, and a lot like he should be in bed instead of traipsing through hogsmeade. 
        “how are you feeling?” you ask, concerned. your conversation is overshadowed by the chatter all around you, which you’re thankful for. it’s unlikely anyone could overhear the two of you discussing his delicate situation. 
        “i could go for a long nap,” he says, truthfully. “missed you, though.”
        your heart leaps in your chest, and a shy half-smile finds its way to your lips. “you don’t have to exhaust yourself just to see me, rem,” you say, flushed. 
        “i don’t mind.” he shrugs. his hand bumps yours as you stand, watching sirius push through a crowd of confused looking third-years, heading for a table in the corner. he hooks one finger with yours for half a second, before the two of you are following your friends to the table. 
        you swear the touch sends your whole body vibrating, your heart beating loudly enough that you’re sure everyone in the pub can hear it. you take your seat, head swimming as you settle down and order a butterbeer when madame rosmerta comes for your orders. 
        after the three broomsticks, your group splits up. james and sirius flit off to spintwitches sporting needs, james muttering something about new quidditch gloves. marlene and lily run into mary macdonald outside of honeydukes. which leaves you and remus.
        “right, mouse, where to?” remus looks to you for direction, having brightened up a bit since having something to drink. he’s much less ill-looking, although you notice a fresh scar creeping up from beneath the neckline of his sweater. your eyes skirt over the wound, but you jerk your attention away before he notices. 
        “how about gladrags?” you wonder aloud. “i saw a nice blouse in there on the last hogsmeade weekend. ‘course, i talked myself out of buying it at the time, but i really want it…” you realize that you’re rambling, and stop before you can embarrass yourself. 
        “after you,” he offers his arm, and you try not to look flustered as you take it. 
        gladrags is empty as ever, very few wizards doing any clothing shopping at this time of year, it seems. the cashier is an ancient elderly lady, who shouts hello at you as you enter. you reply, but she’s got hearing problems, and you’re not loud enough. remus shouts a greeting back, earning a smile from the lady and a fit of giggles from you.
        “poor old woman,” remus says, amused.
        “hush,” you say quietly, although there’s no risk of her accidentally hearing you.
        “sorry,” he says, eyes still crinkled as he smiles. “now, where is this lovely blouse?” he inquires, quirking an eyebrow. you finger through the racks, looking for the pale-coloured, silken fabric. you finally find it, the last shirt on a very back rack. 
        “what do you think?” you ask, holding the fabric up against your front, peering down at it.
        “hmmm,” remus examines the fabric, taking the tail of it between his fingers. “looks like  a blouse.” 
        you roll your eyes. “this is why i don’t go shopping with boys,” you say, laughing softly. 
        “maybe you should try it on,” he suggests. “i’m sure it looks better on.”
        you nod. “good idea,” you flit off to the changing rooms. remus waits for you, your coat draped over his arm as he waits for you to change, listening to you curse as you fiddle with the buttons on the blouse. you adjust the lace outlining the neckline and the sleeves, smoothing the fabric as you eye yourself in the mirror. 
        “okay, rem, what do you think?” you thrust open the curtain to the changing room. remus’s eyes widen a tad, and you swear there’s a flush of pink across his cheeks. he forces his gaze up from the dip in the silken fabric that accentuates your chest, and meets your eyes. you shift under his gaze, looking hopeful.
        “erm,” he clears his throat, brushing a strand of hair off of his forehead. “much better on, absolutely. very pretty, mouse.”
        “i thought so, too,” you agree, turning away and sweeping the curtain shut behind you. outside, you hear him swear under his breath and the sound of shuffling. your hands tremble a bit, your nerves getting the better of you. the complement, coupled with the bloody nickname. it’s enough to have your head spinning, wishing you could just grab him by the shoulders and kiss him silly. in your mind’s eye you see the almost bashful look in his eyes as he took in the sight of you, and you can’t focus on anything else. 
        after a few moments of struggling with the stupid buttons, unable to undo them, you hear his voice on the other side of the door.
        “okay in there?” he asks, closer now. the sound of his voice sends a jolt through you.
        “i’m all right,” you respond. “can’t get these bleeding buttons undone.”
        it’s quiet for a second. “need help, mouse?”
        you freeze. he sounds like he genuinely wants to help. you tell yourself he’s just a friend offering help to his friend. deep down, though, you’re hopeful. maybe your feelings are not as one-sided as you thought… 
        you struggle with the buttons for another second, then concede. you peek out of the changing room, ensuring there are no witnesses, before dragging him inside by the sleeve of his sweater. there’s a split second of tension, his gaze finding your half-unbuttoned blouse before it lands on your clearly flustered expression. 
        he laughs gently. your brows pull together.
        “what’s funny?” you ask, frowning. 
        “‘m sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “let me just…” he trails, hanging up your discarded coat before his nimble fingers come to the buttons on your chest. goosebumps rise on your skin, and you try not to shiver. you follow his movements, his face screwed up in concentration as he fiddles with the tricky buttons.
        “i’m starting to rethink this purchase, considering it’s a nightmare getting off,” you say, pressing your lips together as his eyes flick up to your face. he smiles, amused. 
        “i think you should get it,” remus says.
        “you think so?”
        “yeah. especially if you’ll be needing my help taking it off more often.�� you swear he winks at you, and your knees turn into jelly. has he really just said that? you blink for a second, one of your hands coming up to stop his fingers from unhooking the buttons.
        “moony…”
        “what?” he looks up at you, a teasing glint in his pale brown eyes. 
        your cheeks are pink, and your eyes dreamy as you look at him. his skin is warm where your hand is clasped around his, and despite his exhaustion, he’s never felt more alive.
        “i– sorry,” he says, “you just— you look very beautiful. and i think it would be a waste not to buy this blouse when it wouldn’t look nearly as good on anyone else.” his voice has gone quiet. he swallows before continuing. “sirius said... well, maybe he was lying, but he said you have feelings for me... and i just wanted you to know that i feel the same.”
        the butterflies in your stomach have turned to dragons, ravaging your insides. you’re pressed close to him, close enough to feel his breath fanning over your skin. inside your chest, your heart is beating fast enough that you’re sure it’s going to burst any second. with your free hand, you reach up and slowly trace the new scar on his neck, up to his face. you cup his cheek, your thumb swiping just beneath his clear eyes.
        “can i kiss you, mouse?” he asks, the question barely audible.
        “i would like that,” you say simply.
        there’s a split second of hesitation, before he’s pulling you into him. his lips are softer than you expected, gently parting to deepen the kiss. you tighten your grasp around his hand, and your other hand snakes around to curl into the hair at the nape of his neck. he presses closer to you, very lightly, as if you’re delicate. you hum against his mouth, your head swimming as you finally force yourself to part ways. the blouse is still halfway undone, forgotten between the two of you. you’re drunk on his presence, wishing you were back in the castle so you could have him all to yourself, for as long as you’d like.
        “we–um, do you want to get out of here?” you suggest, pressing your lips together. the ghost of his mouth against yours is driving you crazy. you feel incomplete without him wrapped around you. you want him touching you, forever.
        “let’s get this off, quick,” he says, nodding. he struggles for another second with the pesky buttons, and then you’re slipping the blouse over your shoulders. remus adverts his gaze, and you can’t help but smile. such a gentleman. you adore him. 
        “is the coast clear?” you wonder, once you’re dressed and ready to go.
        “think we’re all right,” he says. he leads you to the front counter, and generously pays for your new blouse, which he admits he likes very much. 
        “in fact,” he says as you exit the shop, “i think you should wear it again tonight.”
        “really?” you ask, unable to mask the beaming smile on your face. 
        “mhmm,” he agrees, interlacing your fingers as he leads you down the street, in search of the rest of your friends. “actually, i think it’d be quite nice tomorrow night, too… and the night after that, and after that…” he trails, grinning as you smack him playfully on the arm. 
        it seems the rest of the group have been searching for you for a while, lily approaching with an exasperated look on her face.
        “where have you two been?” she asks. 
        “we’ve been looking everywhere,” adds marlene.
        “sorry–” you begin, but you’re cut off by sirius, who takes a step closer to peer at the two of you.
       “why have you got that look on your face, moony?” he narrows his gaze at remus, who shrugs. “and you–” he turns to you “--your lips are all swollen. oh! merlin, you’ve been off swapping saliva haven’t you?” he makes a very long, exaggerated gagging noise to which james offers loud laughter.
        “oh, shut up, sirius,” you mutter, shoving him as you begin your walk back to the castle. “you’re just mad that no one’s offered to swap saliva with you.”
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charliemwrites · 5 months
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Woof, grrr, woof
Your trip to the vet turns up nothing. No microchips, and none of the staff recognize the wolf-dog. They’re the only vet in town too, and he looks too pristine to have come from another…
“You’re a weird little guy, huh?” you muse on the car ride to the pet store.
The vet office was kind enough to make a file for him, standing name “Buddy”. If you get to keep him, you’re definitely changing it. They also gave you a spare leash so that you wouldn’t have to leave him in the car while you shop.
It’s a pitifully flimsy thing, but the dog seems leashed trained and does tug. Could probably let him off it and he’d stay glued to your side.
The shopping is even weirder. He doesn’t seem very distracted by treats or food, only snaps at other dogs when they get into his personal space. Otherwise, he just stays right next to you, tongue occasionally lapping at your hanging fingers.
“Beautiful dog,” a man says to you. An older guy, rugged, looking at toys.
You shift. “Thank you.”
“Should really be feeding a beast like that a raw diet.”
“Raw diet?”
“What they get in the wild. All that processed shite ain’t good for ‘em.”
You thank him for the advice over the dog’s grumbling. A quick internet search on your phone reveals it’s not a bad idea, actually. Not too expensive either.
“Raw it is,” you muse.
He tilts his head, make a low “woof”. You scratch absently at his ears as you continue shopping. Let him pick toys - his favorite a squeaky grenade of all things that he refuses to put down. You get a big matching set of food and water bowls, a cushy dog bed, a parasite repellent. Even some dog pads in case he’s not house trained.
You stall in the leash aisle, a bit overwhelmed by the choices of leashes and collars and harnesses.
“How do you feel about pink…?”
Snort.
“Yeah didn’t think so. I didn’t like the rhinestones anyway. You’d probably end up eating one and shitting glitter.”
A long whine.
“Oh, sorry, is that embarrassing? Poor love.”
The gentlest scrape of big teeth at your knuckles. You chuckle and tap two fingers on his sandpaper tongue. His head jerks back, tongue flicking in offense.
“S’what you get, dummy.”
Shaking your head, turn back to the selection. The pup huffs, shakes his head, and noses at something lower. It’s a deep green - army, you think the shade is called - collar with a silver buckle instead of a snap clip.
“Not bad,” you muse. “Matches the whole woodsy vibe we’ve got going.”
You find the matching leash and harness set, dropping it in your cart. You receive several more compliments on your big gorgeous dog, though he refuses to let anyone pet him. You awkwardly make excuses that he’s a recent rescue and try to avoid further conversation.
The last stop is at the kiosk for a tag. You can’t just let him go without one, but you despise officially naming him “Buddy.”
You end up just putting your name, number, and address on there. A matte black heart engraved with silver.
“What do you think?” you ask, offering it for a sniff.
The dog doesn’t even pretend to be interested, just takes the opportunity to drag his tongue over your wrist again. You huff and wipe off on your pants.
“Gonna have to take another bath at this rate.”
You ignore his grumble - it’s uncanny at this point, how quick he is to respond - and guide him out to the car. He hops into the passenger seat, flops over into your lap first chance he gets. You have to nudge his snout away from your crotch again, but he seems satisfied with a hand smoothing over his head.
Home is warm when you arrive. You set up your new dog’s things, buckle him into his new collar, tag and all.
“There,” you coo, dropping smooches all over his head. “Look at how handsome you are, sweet boy! Can I have a kiss?”
You yelp as he barrels you over onto your back, well over 100 pounds of wolf-dog stretching over you. You turn your face away as he licks at your mouth, trying to get inside. You remember reading somewhere that that’s a wolf thing; just another tick in the “hybrid” box.
“Gross, gross! Nooooo,” you laugh, covering his snout. You squeal as his tongue flickers between two fingers. “Nasty boy! You’re so rude!!”
He finally lets you up with much coaxing, looking far too pleased with himself.
You make yourself dinner, providing your dog with scraps of chicken and unseasoned veggies based on your online reading. He seems happy with the offering, eats it all up with gusto.
As the evening comes, you stretch out on the couch. Finally feel brave enough to put on a scary movie now that you’ve got a big-ass deterrent.
Your dog even climbs up to cuddle, head on your chest while you hug him through scary parts. The really interesting part comes at the end, during the climax.
“Heeeeeere’s Johnny!”
Your new companion perks up, eyes on the screen.
“Oh? Is… is that your name? Is your name Johnny?”
His head snaps around to you, ears straight up and eyes bright.
“Johnny…” you croon, trying it out.
He makes a little “boof” noise and wriggles closer.
“Johnny baby,” you continue, grinning. “Johnny boy. John John the bon bon.”
It’s utter nonsense, but it makes his tail thump against the cushions, leaving slobbery kisses of excitement all over your neck and jaw.
“Alright alright!” you laugh, dropping a kiss on the top of his nose. “Johnny it is. Thank fuck I don’t have to come up with a name. Was thinking of calling you Philip or Simon or something.”
You yelp as he starts to make gagging sounds, nearly kicking him off the couch before it seems to subside.
“Good lord, bud,” you breathe as he grumbles and settles his head on your thigh, puffing out a big breath through his nose. “You’re gonna be a handful.”
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nichoskittycorner · 7 months
Text
So... a random drabble thing I wrote. Like you know that trope about adopting a pet and it shifts into a hot person? Yeah it's like that except it's a werewolf and a wolf plush. This isnt complete and only like a lil nsfw but yeah-
Oh yeah its like gn! reader x Male werewolf-
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Imagine going to a thrift shop looking for supplies for a project and see the cutest littlw wolf plushie you've ever seen- You just had to have it! It had black soft fluff, little golden eyes and even felt warm to hug. Hey, things were already cheap here- why not treat yourself with this?
So you took the little plush home. Happy with your new friend, you set it on your bed and continued to set up for the project. Once you got started, you felt lonely. Reaching over without thinking and holding the plush in your lap. Squeezing and cuddling them as you worked.
Tine flew by as you worked- eventually yawning and pushing the supplies aside. Taking the plush with you as you ate, cleaned up and got ready for bed.
As you laid in bed, you looked into your new friend's eyes and brainstormed some names. "Hm, what about something cute? You are cute afterall." With a half asleep brain, you settled on the first thing you thought of- giggling before falling asleep.
The next few weeks went by as normal. Well that and you almost always had 'Muffin' with you. You really didnt know why but they were good company. Sure the toy never answered you but their pretty golden eyes seemed to twinkle as you spoke and when you cuddled with them. As if a soul was really in there...
Plus that warmth you got from them always made you feel good, like you were hugging something alive. It became a habit to kiss their snout Goodnight and pet the soft fur covering their body. Telling them any and everything on your heart without restraint.
'It was just a doll, right?'-
It's what you had to tell yourself as you found yourself in a predicament. Horny but too lazy to get out of bed to do anything about it. So as you snuggled into Muffin, you started grinding your hips into the plush to get off.
This would have to be something you never told anyone- your body burned hot as you got the much desired friction you craved. Your underwear quickly turning into a soaking and cum filled mess as you got more bold over the long hours of the night.
Peeling your underwear off and rubbing your bare self against the doll that was bringing you such pleasure. It didnt surprise you that you had climaxed several times- leaving your precious plushie covered in your fluids. The streaks standing out greatly in compared to the black fur.
You wouldve been embarrassed but your mind was already floating. This was a problem for the you of tomorrow. So with a satisfied body and brain, you hugged Muffin close, still covered in your mess and fell asleep.
The next morning you were confused and scared by your predicament- your vision was blacked out and you could barely breath. Panic instantly took over as you pushed and clawed at the darkness to get free.
A low growling was heard as you managed to shuffle free. Gasping for air once your face was out of the darkness. It took a little more effort to finally get out of bed and check the scene before you.
Covering about 75% of your bed space was a giant mass of deep black fur, rising and falling very steadily. Whatever this thing was, it was sleeping peacefully despite nearly suffocating you.
As you assessed the situation, the mass woke up and took on more distinct features. Pointy ears, a long snout and sharp but sleepy golden eyes. Was that... a wolf in your bed?!
You wanted to run but was scared frozen. If you tried to run from said wolf it's very likely it would give chase. As you stepped back slowly, the creature seemed excited to see you.
A long tail thumping against your sheets and their eyes sparkled. Lazily crawling out of bed, standing on two legs as they approached you. Using their mouth to pick you up by the shirt like a small kitten and carried you back to bed.
Wrapping around you and trapping you in their embrace. Large clawed hands roaming under your shirt and all over your body. Growling in content as they buried their nose into your neck.
"W-whats going on...?"
The fluffy wolf mass mumbled and licked your neck, making you shiver all over. "Its me human... The curse is broken."
Curse? Now that was bizarre. Plus it still didnt give you much information. "What curse, and who are you?"
The wolf... werewolf(?) wagged their tail, their response shaking your whole mind up. "Muffin! At least, that's what you named me-"
You nearly choked on your own spit. Muffin?! Your little plushie? No way-
As you questioned the wolf still holding and snuggling you, it all started to make sense. 'Muffin' explained that he had accidentally gotten separated from his pack at some point and cursed by a spiteful witch.
Transformed into a useless plush toy and circulated around house and home with no control of his actions. It was miserable and terrifying. That was until he met you.
You took him home and took good care of him. He was sure your instant connection meant he was your mate but he couldnt be sure as a doll. But now he was, and he wanted you badly.
A part of you was still confused. Werewolves, witches and curses werent unheard of but were extremely rare in these parts. And how did you of all people break such a curse?
As you pondered these thoughts out loud, he nodded and continued to fondle your body, pressing kisses against your neck and shoulder and peeling off the rest of your clothing.
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Part 2
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diejager · 6 months
Text
Hunt Cw: Predator/prey, primal kink, fingering, dub-con, tell me if I missed any.
Hunting made his blood pump and his adrenaline soar, every smell was pungent, reaching his acutely aware nose; every sound was clear to his heightened hearing; and every little shift sent his sharp eyes their way. Whereas people saw a blur of colour and motion at the speed he ran through the forest at, he saw clearly, red eyes flashing from one side to the other in search of a little lamb. He was hunting his meal.
König stalked with deathly silence, appearing behind one tree only to vanish behind the second one, slow and efficient stalking that made your hair stand on end. You would lose him if your eyes stared away for a second, but how couldn’t you when you were running away from him, fleeing from the wolf that chased you. You were clumsy unlike the skillful hunter, stumbling around trees and shuffling leaves loudly, acting as a beacon in this silent forest in the Austrian Alps. Every branch you cracked echoed and every hiss and whine you made continued farther into the woods, it all reached his ears in a mettre of seconds.
You knew he was close, a few yards away and never farther, staking his claim on his prey. You could hear his taunting whispers, the low bellows of his hunger and his beckoning howls, they were neither threatening nor dark, only ever soft and coaxing, wanting to lure his prey closer to him. He never pounced, he never growled and he never barked at you, sending you into this illusionary semblance of safety and peace. It made you stop running, stop looking behind you and deaf to every danger that lurked around you.
That’s when he jumped, his heavy body tackling you, sending you crumbling under him on the rough and patchy forest ground. You screamed, struggling against his looming figure, nails digging into the dirt and feet kicking at his thick thighs. He ground his hips downwards, growling in your ear with a low, threatening pitch that made your knees buckle. Your body grew limp, melting into a small and vulnerable puddle of pleasure and nerves beneath him.
“Mein süßes kleines Lamm,” he growled, hands worming their way into your pants.
You fought, pressing your legs together to stop his eager fingers from slipping under the waistband of your panties to press two digits at your slick hole. He dragged them between your fold, rubbing your throbbing clit with quick and rough movements. You moaned, pressing into his wandering hands and back arching skyward, meeting his strong chest.
He cooed, fingers dipping into your clenching cunt, the rough texture of his glove rubbing against your soft walls. He pumped in roughly, sinking his fingers until the knuckles met your lips, praising you for your obedience to his hunger.
“Look at me, Lamm.”
When you turned your head, peering at him from the corner of your teary eye, you met crimson irises framed with healthy lashes and black fur. You didn’t know if you were staring at a man or a monster, the lush, black fur on his snout, his erect and pointy ears and the blood ribbons falling down his crowd shoulders and even broader body, tall and hulking over your smaller one.
He was the big, bad wolf and you his little lamb, his innocent and frolicking prey that he stalked and hunted. You were the being he hungered after, that dangerous laugh and eager hands. König would eat you whole, starting with that pulsing cunt.
Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973
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