Moonspell

Pyrrha Nikos sits alone in her garage which also seconds as her workshop, all of her shamanic tools and paraphernalia out in the open since she almost never has visitors. One wall is covered from top to bottom in various articles of weaponry and armor from all over the world. The table she sits at is orderly, well organized, but loaded down with a perfectly arranged assortment of tool boxes, along with anything else one would need to maintain and craft leather and steel. The other wall is hidden behind a host of planter boxes and hydroponic equipment set up on a trio of long benches. Various herbs and flowers spring up out of the rich soil, any and all of them meant to be put in tinctures and potions. Beside the door leading into her modest home is an automatic coffee maker, the machine growling and sputtering as it heats the water in the reservoir and pushes it into the pile of herbal tea waiting in the filter. It drips into the glass pot a bright, ruby red color.

The stereo on the table beside her hums with traditional Mistrali music, soothing and easy for her to get lost in as she works the edge of blade against a whetstone. She had been meaning to do this alongside a host of other things in preparation for a line of tough jobs coming up next week, but it just hasn't been easy to focus on anything but the usually delightful man she shares her home with. That's just how it gets when the full moon comes around.

He wasn't her first charge as a Handler, likely not the last either -although he may have to be if this gets any more serious. Something about him had been different than the few others she had fostered and helped integrate safely into the area, and not just because he had been with her for so long. It's rare that a Shaman is pestered about timetables, as it's common knowledge that you don't rush their work unless someone was dead, dying, on fire, or a simultaneous combination of the three coupled with unnatural resurrection.

Jaune Arc is the only son of an exceptionally powerful Witch -the seventh child, no less- and with bloodlines and birth order and his being male conjoined in such a way, even having a human father leaves the odds heavily in favor of a supernatural birth. Werewolves are the most typical, but Pyrrha knew of others; elementals, Gatekeepers, and various types of Fey. The sheer amount of raw magic in Alpha males born under these circumstances is without measure and only adds to their already fierce temperament when they turn, as if they aren't bad enough as they are.

But Jaune isn't so bad, she thinks to herself with a relaxed sign. He isn't like the others, be it in his human skin or his tawny fur. The Alphas Pyrrha had handled before him had been obstinate, surly, often times rude and seemingly uncivilized in spite of having been raised by their own kind or at least their mothers. In a way she understood; being with a Handler is hard, getting kicked out of your own home and expected to heed a stranger when you're convinced you don't need them. But they do. They needed her to show them how to hide, how to hunt for houses that would suit their peculiar needs, how to get in touch with other supernaturals that would help them find jobs and schools and hospitals that are safe for them.

Jaune had been timid and resigned when he showed up at her door four years ago. He didn't grunt and snort like most males did when she told him the rules of the house, and showing him the shelter were he would be for the duration of the full moon didn't make him bristle defensively. He would just nod his head and say "sure, okay", which didn't come off so much as shy as submissive. He already knew his place and knew trying to muscle his way out of it -which is instinctive for Alpha males- wouldn't make the situation any more pleasant. He explained it as "that's what happens when you have a mom like mine and six older sisters". Which actually made more sense than most explanations would have. His mother -gods bless her, Pyrrha adored the woman- had the foresight to see to it her son learned how to respect the women in his life in spite of his primal compulsions, a trait that is of notoriously short supply in others of his kind.

He always said please and thank you, apologized even at times where it wasn't necessary, and he helped her around the house. The last of which she made sure to have all her charges do seeing as they lived here too, but with him she didn't have to ask. Once, when she came home from two weeks away on a job, she found the house spotless and her bed linens freshly laundered. When she asked about it he just said "I wanted to." Pyrrha wonders if that was what made their relationship start to change. Or maybe it had been his insistence that he cook almost every night or that she join him for evening movies on the couch after dinner. Or was it when he started bringing her tea in the morning so they could sit on the back porch and talk about nothing and everything? Maybe it was...who knows?

Pyrrha laughs to herself, a warm smile pulling her lips. In any case, it changed all the same. At first, when it was just a kiss, she was scared. Well, maybe not scared as she was hesitant. Shamans and supernaturals becoming lovers wasn't sneered at, not even really discouraged -if werewolves were to take lovers outside of their kind, a Shaman is the best case scenario- it's more so that she was convinced it wouldn't last. He would find his way in the world like all the others and move on, or he was like the other Alpha males and would find that he simply didn't trust her enough to love her. How could anyone feel safe enough to sleep next to someone who could kill you in a second?

Somehow Jaune did. Then again, in her mind, it all boiled down to that even though it might not last, she is already thirty and never kissed a man. A few girls when she was an apprentice, but no boys. Besides she actually liked Jaune a lot, and like eventually turned into love as it is often prone to do. Their first time being intimate only made her fall that much harder; he had been so gentle and caring, nothing at all like she ever imagined an Alpha male to be. Of course he was human -he refused to let their first time happen under any other circumstances- but in the throws of hormones and animal instinct, who knew?

Pyrrha checks the old, grease smudged digital clock on the wall above her, only then realizing that the little coffee maker is done brewing. She quickly finishes her work on the knife and then goes to fix herself a drink. Taking a small paper cup from the stack beside the machine she takes a moment to blow on it, making it cool enough to shoot down in one go. She'll do this twice more, swearing she can feel her pupils dilating when she swallows. Pyrrha will go back to her workbench, pulling out another knife to sharpen until she feels restless, the tea working like it should.

She'll find other work to do, time consuming tasks that busy her mind so she won't keep watching the clock. Pyrrha cleans every gun she owns, not just because she needs to but because she wants to see just how fast she can do it. She doesn't need a stopwatch. From there she catalogs her current supply of ammunition, marking down whatever she needed to get more of, making a list and checking it twice. Thrice. After that she goes through her plants and checks them for bugs and dying leaves, partly disappointed when there are none. She eventually resigns herself to a light workout, feeling better and pleased that she threw away over an hour to the activity. Now it's off to the shower for a quick rinse and then the kitchen.

As with all of her other charges, Pyrrha had to prepare for Jaune's impending, post-change appetite, which was always ravenous but thankfully predictable. Alphas always needed the same things: starch, salt, and protein-protein-protein. Back in the old days, when werewolves lived in the wild with large packs, stores of food were collected before the full moon so they wouldn't have to hunt in an already depleted state. Now they have Shaman's to care for them, and Pyrrha found a quiet happiness in taking care of Jaune. Once he came back to his senses he was always grateful for her work, and always apologized when he ate too fast to leave her any. And that's why she's making a double batch of stew tonight, that and she meant to have a little before she joined Jaune in the shelter.

The last hour before sunrise is spent moving about the house, doing little things to keep her occupied all the while marking the time in passing. She jumps a little when her watch finally chimes the hour and then hurries back to the kitchen. Pyrrha slips an insulator sleeve around the stock pot, not just to keep the contents warm until the two of them actually got around to eating, but also so she could actually carry it without using the handles. In her other hand is a canvas bag weighed down with whatever is inside. She locks the house behind her as she exits through the back door.

If ever any of her distant neighbors were nosy enough to come by and ask about the big concrete door in the hillside behind her house, she would just laugh and explain it away as a fallout shelter. Pyrrha doesn't care that everyone within ten miles of here thinks she's a doomsday prepper, and it isn't entirely untrue -if her acquaintances knew even half of the armageddon scenarios she did, they'd likely join in and build one of their own. In any case the shelter most certainly could stand up to most supernatural attacks and anything humans could come up with, but for the most part she uses it to keep her charges safe and contained when the full moon rolls around.

On the door are painted various seals and symbols from just as many religions of just as many countries, resembling the clusters of tattoos that cover her body beneath her clothes. But unlike her tattoos, these wards can only be seen by the right people. So not only does she need keys to undo the trio of steel locks on the door, she needed the proper hand gestures to disarm the seals so she isn't immolated on the spot.

Behind the concrete is solid iron, making the door an absolute bitch to pull open sometimes. Once inside with everything she brought she reaches in the darkness for the light switch, finding it effortlessly from memory. More concrete is there to greet her, now tinted yellow with the trio of bar lights that flickered to life on the ceiling. Then the rattle of chains grabs her attention, pulling her eyes to the large iron cage in one corner of the room and the tawny mass of fur inside of it. It will be a few more minutes before Jaune changes, but Pyrrha can already feel the crackling of wild energy shifting in the air around them. Her pulse picks up, heat flushing her from head to toe.

Pyrrha didn't always think he was that attractive, in his human form or out of it. Sure, he had a certain boyish charm about him and was a bit of a dork, but she never really put much thought into it. Now it's too long ago for her to care, because he's beautiful in every way as far as she's concerned, even if he's still a dork.

With practiced efficiency she moves about the room, setting things up as she usually does. There's a bed across from the cage, the blankets folded into a neat stack at the foot for later when they would actually need them. All the while she listens to the growling and snarling and the rattle of steel behind her as the werewolf in the cage resists his confines. Surely he can smell her by now, smell her low key arousal, and his most primitive senses and desires are starting to stir like the makings of a wildfire -quiet and warm, a breath away from roaring into a reckless blaze. She can just imagine those solid, midnight blue eyes tracking her every move between the bars, likely centered on her taught backside as she kneels over the bed -Jaune's often said that her ass was his favorite part of her. Second only to her smile.

She can hear him sniffing for her as she takes her tank top off and folds it up, knowing if he wasn't muzzled she would be able to hear him licking his chops too. She bets there's already a sizable dark spot on the floor from the drool. Pyrrha unhooks her bra and a low growl breaks the still air, making her almost laugh as she ties her hair up in a messy bun. She'll leave her billowing pajama pants on for the time being; taking them off now would just make it more difficult for the both of them.

They weren't mates, but Jaune's body had done everything it could to prepare him for it, to encourage him to mate her ever since they had started being intimate. It altered the way the change effected him, how his senses would focus during and afterward, and how his body reacted to just the thought of being in her presence even when the full moon was weeks away. It made him bolder in his human form, less shy and more confident in asking her out on dates and the like. It gave him the unconscious urge to stay physically close to her, to take in her scent whenever he could and all but rub himself all over her to mingle his smell with hers, and he could smell when she was ovulating. All these things to convince, and maybe trick, his animal brain into believing she belonged to him.

And she does, just not as his mate. She wasn't ready for that, though her own body has tried to convince her that she is, and he's admitted to as much before. They're both comfortable and content as they are now, and if that changes, they agreed to deal with it when it happens.

Pyrrha shivers, feeling the heat between her legs pitching, thinking of what his instincts will drive him to do now that the moon is high like his hunger. Her watch chimes again, and then she hears the familiar racket in the cage. He's starting to transform.

The morning after an Alpha male's first change is vastly different from a female's, especially if he believes he has a mate. Solo males become mostly human with the exception of claws and fangs and more brilliant eyes, just like females; necessities to defend themselves in the wild if needed. These traits are magnified once they're of the mind to seek a mate; they show a more blurred mixture of wolf and man as not all the fur recedes, the fangs are larger like the claws, their ears are still long and furry and move like little radar dishes at the slightest sound, and their irises are big and bright enough to make the whites of their eyes almost disappear. And their great strength remains at a greater capacity, not just to defend themselves, but to overpower a potentially difficult female or protect her after the mating. Their minds are simpler, can only handle simple words and phrases and tasks, unlike females who are typically much more alert in order to properly pick a suitable male or ward one off.

And again, unlike the Alpha females, these changes don't receded as the full moon wanes. They remain until the phases pass completely, when the window for the best chance of a female conceiving has closed.

Sweat rolls off of his body, his pale flesh reddened and spotted with patches of tawny fur. His bare chest heaves with powerful gasps for breath, his heart pounding and pounding inside his ribs as the change resolves. The world is a heated blur of sound and harried thoughts and wild mania that wraps him up in confusion and an unnameable hunger. His head feels too heavy to hold up, gravity pulling him down until his forehead touches cold, cold concrete. Jaune can feel the straps of the muzzle against his face, unconsciously growling in exhausted disapproval with his lips flaring around still prominent fangs. He reflexively resist the restraints around his arms and chest, the bands wrapped about him giving just enough and not enough at the same time. Another growl, this one louder yet just as impotent in changing his situation as the last.

"Shhh,"

His ears prick upward and he stills with a little grunt, then his nostrils flare and he starts sniffing again. He can just pick up her presence in the room, can feel the heat of her body against his livid skin. The screech of the hinges on the cage door make his ears flatten, a tight whine working in his throat to punctuate a tense flinch against the noise.

"Shhh," there it is again, soothing him, drawing his senses to the soft sound. He feels hands against his furry face, lifting his head for him. "Scent,"

His nostrils flare again and he buries his face as best he can into her palms, pulling in her smell to both ease and stimulate his mind. Female. My female. Love female. Jaune feels the straps of the muzzle lifting from around his head, his body rumbling in grateful comfort as her hands come to rest on his cheeks. He seeks her palms again and kisses them, licks them, nuzzles them. Love female.

Pyrrha waits until he opens his eyes, always admiring and startled by the vibrant indigo they have become. She can tell that he's trying to smile, the gesture a little distorted by sharp teeth that are almost too big for his mouth. She strokes his head, pushing his hair away from his sweaty face and enjoying the attention he's giving her. Her hand tightens in his hair when he tries to use his teeth against her palm and tugs. "No." She couldn't be infected -shamanic magic had its perks- but she still didn't like being bit. And a proper Handler is consistent with discipline if nothing else when werewolves are involved.

Jaune whimpers in response, his ears drooping and his neck going limp so his head rests completely against her other hand. Submissive. Obey female. Because a willing female would stay willing so long as she was obeyed. Jaune knew that in his human brain and, with Pyrrha's help, had trained it into the werewolf as well. He looks up at her, searching for some sign of forgiveness which she is quick to give in the loosening of her grip.

Pyrrha kneels down in front of him, encouraging him to hold his head up on his own as she needs her hands to twist open a large bottle of water. She holds it up to him, tipping it up as he almost clumsily closes his lips and teeth around it and starts guzzling it down noisily, desperate for it. A few drops spill out from the corners of his mouth, running down his jaw and along the thick, tensed tendons of his neck to the furrow of his collarbones. Her eyes follow the lines of his swollen musculature down his furry chest to his stomach, then to his navel and lower. He's already powerfully erect, his cock bobbing in time with his heartbeat and with a glistening bead of precum about to drip from the head that's almost purple. Her own arousal spikes when she realizes she's staring.

A satisfied growl vibrates through him when the last of the water disappears down his throat, his shimmering blue eyes telegraphing all the gratitude he wants to give her. She returns the notion with a modest smile, watching as his eyes are moving from her face to her bare breasts and back again. She wants to laugh but holds it in, instead reaching for the keys in her pajama pants so she can begin unlocking his restraints. He growls in anticipation when the first of the clasps come undone. Pyrrha gives him gentle reminders as she goes, making sure he keeps still and remains calm as he's given more freedom to move. It's more for his safety than hers and he knows it; he knows she wouldn't hesitate to protect herself by any means if he were to pounce, regardless of his intentions.

Pyrrha leaves his hands bound behind him and the leather and steel harness about his chest and shoulders in place, encouraging him off of the floor and to his feet with a stretch of chain anchored to a collar that's incorporated into the harness. "Come." she says softly, lovingly but with purpose. He follows a step behind, knowing that's where she expects him to be, and faithfully tails her to the bed. Love female. Obey female. Still holding tight to the lead she sits him down on the bed, encouraging him to the middle of it so she can attach the chain to the anchor in the wall -leaving the Shaman with a safety net should things go wrong. As unlikely as that is.

Jaune is panting put patient when she comes back to sit in front of him, the tip of his tongue peeking between his parted jaws. He's looking her over again, obviously focused on her breasts and anxious for allowance to touch her as he quietly whimpers with each exhale. His claws flex behind him, itching to hold her. Pyrrha takes his face in her hands again, making sure she has his attention before slowly bringing him in for a kiss. She retreats when she feels him pressuring forward, "Easy," she commands, and he responds immediately. When he's calm again she tries once more, getting what she expects. She feels the air moving against her cheek as he takes in her scent through his nose, feels her body shiver as he growls into her mouth. She temps his tongue with her own, and again receives what she expects with a throaty moan that makes his ears waggle happily. He leans into her again, this time being allowed to without discipline, that is until he leans too far and almost pushes her on her back.

Pyrrha resists just enough to make him recoil, expecting it and pleased she doesn't have to remind him of his place again. Not that she would because she's almost lost her patience, she needed him terribly and her aching, throbbing core is more than proof enough. His head still in her hands she encourages him forward, directing him towards her throat. "Seek."

No resistance or hesitation, Jaune immediately presses against her, his mouth and nose diving into the crook of her neck. They're both shivering and humming with pleasure, her from the velvety roughness of his tongue, him from his wrenching hunger feasting on the taste of her flesh and the thin concentration of pheromones she's putting off just for him. My female. He growls gently against her throat, his teeth brushing the skin. Love female. He manages to rein in a little of his enthusiasm as her hand settles in his hair.

Pyrrha's free hand smooths through the fur on his back, following the furrow of his spine until she can feel the clasps of the restraints around his wrists. She doesn't need to see the mechanism to undo them without a key; she had designed it herself, after all. Almost immediately she feels his powerful arms wrap around her, pulling her against him, and out of reflex her hand flexes in his hair, wordless but effective as he relaxes around her.

"Gentle." she reminds him. She knows it's hard for him because it's the first night, but she can't ease up on correcting him.

He whines, a long and low sound that almost manages to earn her sympathy. To show she isn't mad at him she takes both of his hands and presses them against her breasts, letting his fingers mold to their shape and give them a tentative squeeze. He swallows loudly, his tongue swiping across his fangs as a little string of slaver rolls to his chin and falls to the sheets.

"Gentle," she repeats, and is pleasantly surprised to see him nod. He tucks his chin and eases forward, his hands carefully kneading as he sniffs and carefully nips at her throat. His ears twitch to focus on the mewls that emerge from her, meeting the needy noises with his own pleased rumbles. One punctuated moan from her makes his cock twitch, his hunger surging.

"Good wolf." she encourages, kissing the top of his head as she relishes the amazing way she feels. "My wolf." then she chokes on another moan as he puts a series of too brief butterfly kisses down her sternum before catching a tightened nipple in his mouth. Even in his wilder mind he knows what she likes best. He knows she likes the roughness of his tongue against her tender nipple, loves the way he flicks it with a firm tip, and he loves the way she claws at him when he gently suckles her. He abruptly switches to the other breast and swears she almost comes off the bed.

Pyrrha looks down and watches him, focusing on his glistening tongue whenever it slips into view before it disappears again. She catches trails of saliva across the tattoos on her chest, somehow making the black and blue ink seem brighter. She shivers when he growls against her collarbone, his hands clutching at her hips. She tightens her grip in his hair only enough to get his attention before pulling back and easing away from him. "Stay," she says, and he complies though his eyes shimmer with savage hunger. The Shaman stands just beside the bed, watching him for a moment knowing he's going to reach for her, which he does, but only until the lead snaps tight when he reaches the end of its length. He pouts at her, licking his fangs again.

"Just a moment more." she assures him, part of her admiring how almost puppy-like he is kneeling on the bed, on all fours and eager. Pyrrha keeps her eyes on him as she slowly, teasingly shimmies out of her pajama pants and steps out of them once they've pooled at her feet. A high-pitched whine coincides with the way his eyes sink down her body and then back up again, going only as high as her navel. She knows what he wants and isn't offended that he won't look her in the eye.

When she approaches Jaune shuffles back, giving her room to kneel on the bed in front of him again. His hands are open and waiting for permission, something he doesn't receive as Pyrrha slides her hand through his hair. She grips just a little, directing more than correcting, wordlessly instructing him to back up a little further and lower himself to his elbows. She pets his head, making sure he knows she's not displeased with him, then catches his eyes when she eases on to her backside and opens her thighs to him. "Seek."

Jaune growls with enough intensity to vibrate the entire mattress, Pyrrha feels it creep up her back and her core clenches. Keeping his hands on the mattress he crawls towards her, still panting and eyes still fixed on what his feral desires are after. He wants her so badly, it would be all too easy to mount and rut her just like this, but he knows better. He knows she deserves better behavior than that from him. The Alpha male starts by tenderly nuzzling the inside of her thigh, her smooth skin like silk against the fur on his face, then he tests his boundaries with the tip of his tongue and takes the subsequent gasp from Pyrrha as permission to continue. Jaune kisses and nips, making her jump, making her pant just like him as his mouth draws steadily closer to the apex of her thighs. All the while her heady aroma fills his head and makes his mouth water more than it already is.

Pyrrha watches, shivering in anticipation as he gets closer, closer, and finally touches his hot, wet tongue against the slick folds of her sex. Her body jumps, a breathy squeak perching in her throat as his hot breath skates across her belly and his nose prods her swollen clit. He feeds on her hungrily, almost purring against her sensitive flesh and making her shake, her thighs trying to close and blocked by his broad shoulders.

"G-good wolf," she breathes, unsteadily smiling, her cheeks flushed, "my good wolf," She withers with a shuddering groan, her eyes threatening to roll back when she feels his tongue wriggling inside of her. Jaune hooks her thighs with his hands and pulls her closer with a punctuated jerk, her bright laughter echoing through the otherwise desolate space.

His hunger is peaking and he removes himself from her, only to begin licking her soundly in long, powerful strokes with the flat of his tongue.

"J-Jaune," she gasps, trying to focus through the carnal haze so she doesn't unintentionally pull his hair and make him stop. "Gods above, Jaune," He growls heavily against her clit as his lips close around it, gently sucking to bring her to a quick and powerful climax that leaves her trembling. Jaune stays between her legs as she comes down from it, nuzzling her inner thigh and taking in her scent to his heart's content.

Pyrrha shifts slowly, her wits having yet to fully return as she negotiates her half boneless self onto her knees and then her feet. She gives him a smile of assurance when she hears him whimper, soothing him before moving to where her canvas bag lay and kneeling down to reach inside. She takes a few mouthfuls of water from another large bottle, leaving it out beside the bed for later. Then she takes a condom from the large, already open box, setting the container by the bed as well -who knows, he might have to go more than once before he can sleep, and she does want him to be able to sleep. With the small foil package tucked between her fingers she retrieves two more items from the bag and then returns to her anxious lover.

"Posture." she orders softly, waiting only a few seconds for him to process beyond his lust to obey. He props himself up on his knees, upright, and folds his hands atop his head. "Good wolf."

Now she regards the straight, heavy wedge of his cock as she opens the condom. With care and practiced ease she rolls it in place, watching his face as it tightens into a tolerant snarl. Gods, he must be aching by now, a thought that's only reinforced as she finds the firm but for now only mild swelling just above the base. He likely won't last long this round, but she doesn't care -this is mostly for his benefit anyway and being able to comfort him like this will be enough to satisfy her for now.

One of the other items from the bag is a black rubber ring that she also slides into place near the base of his throbbing shaft, not so much to help him maintain an erection -it's intended purpose- but more so as insurance against a number of other things. Now he's whimpering feverishly, a fresh sheen of sweat rolling down his forehead, neck and chest.

"Just a little longer, you're doing so well." she strokes along his jaw with her hand, mindful of the reflexive growl and the lethal flaring of his lips around his fangs. "Now present."

Without hesitation Jaune parts his teeth, his anxious groans no longer muffled by his tongue that now lays flat in his mouth. The last item Pyrrha had taken from her bag was a ring-style gag, but instead of the standard chrome ring it's a thick rubber one with a metal core so as not to give under his powerful, Alpha jaws while also not harming his teeth. During sex is when Alphas are most prone to bite, and until they decided to fully mate, biting was off limits. Still she wasn't going to be so cruel as to deny him use of his tongue because she knows how much he loves to taste her, even if the gag facilitated almost uncontrollable drooling.

"My good wolf. Are you ready?" she holds his face again, her forehead against his.

He moans and nods, his scalding hot breath wafting against her chest. Need female. Need love. Love female. She kisses the tip of his nose and then eases back, looking him over before shifting to put her back to him. Jaune remains still, knowing he's not to move until given permission, but he keeps his brilliant indigo eyes on her and refuses to blink.

Jaune likes the tattoos on her back, loves to trace them from the small of her back to the nape of her neck and back again, a part of him coherent enough to be mesmerized by their intricacies and somehow uniform flow across her body. He loves them because they keep her safe from him and from other things like him, because they allow her to come home and keep loving him after her jobs are finished. Love female. Love my female. He groans tightly, wanting so badly to clench his jaw as she backs up against him, the straining length of his cock sliding against the cleft her backside. His entire body tenses, muscles bulging beneath his skin as she teases him. When she finally lifts her hips high enough and the tip of his cock brushes her entrance he freezes, a growl aborted in his throat that he strains to hold in. He feels her fingers pushing against the underside of him, offering the resistance he needed to slip inside her, and the rest of that guttural noise wrenches free. Still keeping his posture he snarls with every exhale as she works herself further and further onto him.

Pyrrha bites her lip against the burning stretch inside her; even after all that wonderful priming her body still wasn't quite able to take him right away. She eases along inch by inch, canting her hips in steady progression until their bodies blur together against each other. Now she's panting too, feeling so full and hot and desired as Jaune growls behind her. His cock pulses deep inside of her, matching his heartbeat that her own has begun to sync up with. She reaches back to clutch his hips and stop him from thrusting before she's ready, and she shivers around him as his chin perches on her shoulder and he growls again. Pyrrha turns her head to kiss his cheek and nibble at his skin, and Jaune answers with a heavy drawing of his heated tongue along the bend of her neck and shoulder. Though he can't bite he presses his mouth to her shoulder, the tips of his fangs pressing but unable to pierce. It's where he would likely mark her if and when they became proper mates.

Jaune's ear perks to listen as Pyrrha begins whispering, giving him soft orders to proceed but gently alongside declarations of love and trust. As hungry as he is, and even though he has her right where he needs her -ripe and wanting on his cock- he obeys. Obey female. Love female. The first thrust, slow but firm, has the air flying from her lungs and brings stars to her vision. Gods it's so deep, and the steadily growing thickness near the base of him is not lost on her. Another thrust and she almost collapses, a third and she shouts his name. By the fourth she allows him a steady and rhythm and gives him permission to use his hands. To her surprise he bends over her slowly, stretching out over her back, pushing her onto her hands as he drags his hot tongue along her spine and his huge palms smooth around her waist to cross her stomach. Through the heated static of it all she can hear his hips smacking into her backside, the punctuated sound only adding to the carnal haze she's allowed herself to be lost in.

"H-harder." Pyrrha orders breathlessly, crying out it as he complies with a sudden, jolting thrust that nestles him impossibly deeper. "Jaune,"

He tirelessly maintains, giving her exactly what she asked for. He's enticed by the way to plump cheeks of her ass shudder with each impact, that human something in him tastelessly amused. Jaune moves his big hands across her body, palming her breasts and testing them with his claws until she corrects him with a biting command. He apologizes with a slow lick to her neck, removing his hands to cup her shoulders instead. Jaune pulls her to meet his bucking hips, sparking that much more crackling pleasure through her core and making her scream for him. He wanted to make her come, in the back of his bifurcated mind that's all he could think about beside his own desire to climax -beside his natural instinct to breed. He was already close, but he didn't want to finish before her.

"Faster," she pants, lifting up to line her body with his before he has a chance to yank her to him. He wraps his arms around her, tight, possessive, giving himself the anchor he needs to pitch his hips the way she needs. His hand is at her throat, not squeezing or testing, just there, but she reaches back to grip his hair for safety's sake. She's screaming his name again, her core starting to clench around his burrowing cock. That thickness is getting bigger, soon it would be fully engorged and he would come. "Jaune, please," she all but begs, "please, my wolf. Make me come,"

He snarls into her neck and happily obliges, loud growls jumping through his fangs every time his hips collide with hers. A steady stream of slaver drips from his jaw and onto her shoulder, coursing across her body in a shimmering stripe. Jaune feels the telling burn in his loins. He knows what she needs, and thankfully it's just the thing he wants to give her. Love female. Love love love...

Almost there, almost...almost...

Jaune stills, she hates it but she knows what he's doing and doesn't resist or complain. He grunts, the noises stuttering and rough, until he finally buries himself inside her one last time, as deep as he's able. There's a final, pinching pressure at her entrance as his knot slides inside, bringing her shattering climax along with his own. His hot seed spills into the rubber held in place by the ring, each pulse encouraged by a jerk of his hips, and her muscles clench around him with every flex reminding her of the knot that keeps them together.

The afterglow is slow to come as these climaxes tend to last a while. Sometimes it feels like the spasms go on forever, but when everything is finally still and quiet again, the knot recedes and Jaune disengages just before they collapse to the bed. He wants to rub himself all over her, not caring about the sweat and the drool and the mess, but Pyrrha isn't having it. Her mind is repulsed by the idea of being sticky in bed and she almost immediately gives him the "posture" command once her wits are back where they belong. He'll lie on his back but still put his hands atop his head, and patiently tolerates her tidying rituals. She'll retrieve the swollen condom from his still half-erect member, quietly impressed at just how full the rubber is as she ties it off and finds the small trash bag she packed in her canvas tote. She drinks some more water before coming back with a towel, wiping herself down and then doing the same to him. Then she removes the harness from around his chest and neck.

Now that he's sated -for the time being- it's safe for him to go without the gag, and he's visibly happy to be rid of it once she unfastens the strap from around his head. He rumbles with relief, watching as she puts the damn thing out of sight and out of his mind. Like a well trained charge he waits until she give him leave to relax before trying to wrap her up in his arms; he wants her scent all over him and his all over her and he just wants her in his pores and loves her and...

"Love. Love." Jaune murmurs into her neck, kissing there. "Love Pyrrha."

She lets him gather her body against his bigger one, smiling and giggling as he all but sinks into her skin. A fresh heat rises into her cheeks as she feels his still stiff member against her thigh, though the erection isn't full. He might be ready to go again in an hour, a few hours at most, and she just hopes she'll have a moment to enjoy cuddling at least before he's nudging against her again. He leans over her, kissing her chest and taking a nipple in his mouth again to see if she might be ready for another go, but retreats when she gives him a soft refusal. He doesn't complain or pout but obeys. "Love Pyrrha."

"Love Jaune." she replies, her hand cupping the back of his head mostly out of habit, but not without a tender sincerity. She does love him, loves him more than she's loved anyone to be honest. "Love Jaune." she repeats with a breathy sigh.

He'll fall asleep fast, likely faster than he meant to as he dozes off in the middle of saying something. She'll watch him awhile, not so much sleepy as she is simply tired. His ears have shrunk just a little and taken on a more human shape, but they still move like a wolf's in little jerks as he snores. The fur on his face looks thinner yet the size of his fangs and claws are the same. Her other hand molds over his, her fingers curling between his over her belly. She's caught up in thought again, the same thoughts she has every time they make love under the full moon.

Pyrrha thinks about months from now and if anything will have changed by then. She thinks about Jaune. She shivers as she imagines how it would feel to let him come inside of her, to take his cock -his knot- raw and unprotected, and let her physiology change to be more receptive and demanding of him. To let him all but own her. She wonders if it would change him, make him feel entitled to her body and disregard her heart as human men have been known to do. Would he love her like this forever? Would he ask her to mother his children, assuming they could have any together at all -would all her woven wards and charms allow her to conceive with a supernatural? She can't think of it having ever happened before, and she doubts it's due to a lack of trying.

And besides all that, what sort of children would they be? The possibilities were dizzying.

Pyrrha shrugs to herself when she's tired of the idea, momentarily distracted as Jaune mutters in his half sleep. Her troubled expression softens as she scratches the back of his head like one scratches a beloved pet, almost ashamed of herself for thinking of him as anything other than the sweet man she knows he is. She kisses his forehead. "Love Jaune." she whispers, receiving a lazy purr in return.

Maybe they'll talk about it all when he's more like himself. Until then, she tries to sleep while she can.

Author's Note: This was 1000% impulse driven and all for fun. While I did use some mythos from my "Lunacy" AU, this should be treated as an unrelated piece. I just really wanted to do a role reversal like this, and I had a super good time writing it. It is totally self indulgent, but I'm still open to critiques and thoughts from you all. Hope you had a good time because I certainly did! Love you guys!