LUCARIO PUSSY LUCARIO PUSSYYY AHHHH (X40) (Backing track kicks in) by Rafterman

The sunset came, and so you watched. Unmarred by light pollution, a chorus of interwoven ochre, yellow and violet staining all that beheld its glowing display in an alien light, the encore of a dying sun as it sank below the mountains. Be it the first or then thousandth, nought could take from the beauty you saw in it, the mindless cosmic awe of a sight beheld by untold millions before you, and no doubt long after. The bitter wind chill was lost to your senses as you stared entranced, so beheld by its beauty that you didn't notice her until she spoke up.

"Pretty, huh?" You weren't sure you'd ever get entirely used to her talking into your mind, either. She'd used the dulcet tones of some movie actress when you'd first met, seemingly abashed by her actuality. Now, her true voice rang out (True as mind-speak was, at least), feminine in a strong, smooth way bordering on gravelly, words surrounded with the slight but noticeable reverberating static fizz which lacquered all telepathy.
You turned from the display to see her close beside you, paws laced around the iron hand guard, head turned towards yourself. Her eyes twinkled, their irises dancing with the same intoxicating scarlet which lit the night sky.
"Beautiful as ever" You didn't just mean the sunset. She grinned wordlessly, an unreadable expression playing behind her eyes.
The two of you stood there a while, watching the slowly decaying glow fade from the sky. Nary a sound between either save warm breaths snatched by the wind. Somewhere in this silence, the silky fur of a paw met callused hand-skin, and stayed.
Tempting though it was to bathe in the growing dark, the feeling of each other made all the stronger by the loss of light, you had something to do. "Reckon we should go in."
She nods, a soft "hmph" punctuating her agreement. Still, it is with reluctance her paw finds it way from your hand.
You clambered down from the creaking, wind-tortured reaches of the watch-tower, your partner in tow.

It was a ranger survey station, one of the dozens of human buildings which lurked in the shadows of these lonely places, quiet observers to the otherwise untouched wilderness which loomed ancient and primordial about them. They surveyed population numbers, water quality, soil samples and a half dozen other factors which people with degrees analysed far away. They also served as early warning systems, both for bushfires, and in the odd occasion a 10 year old Pokemon Trainer accidentally woke up an ancient primordial God-beast, as they were wont to do.
As proud members of the Pokemon Ranger corps, you and Lucario were responsible for these act
Yours was an older sort, a squat, compact log cabin which crouched proud beside your watch tower like a sleeping beast. A remnant of an older time, best seen through its lack of electricity or indoor plumbing.
Yet its walls held strong against the bitter winds, and kept in the warmth of its mighty stone fireplace. It had lasted a long time, and would last longer still, despite the marks of recent maintenance about it.
You held the stout iron-hinged door open for Lucario, stepping in behind her. The interior was warm and enclosed, an inviting contrast to the frigid spruce forest which surrounded you.
A fire crackled cheerfully in the broad expanses of the hearth, its dancing light just as comforting as the roiling heat. The flames reached out to light most of the cabins compact confines, from the trapdoor to the supply-filled basement, a short distance from a cast iron cooking stove and scant cooking implements, the overstuffed leather couch, beside it a shelf holding various books alongside a battery powered radio. A bed was shoved into the corner, its lack of size made up for by the mass of pillows, patchwork quilts and woolen blankets which adorned its reaches.
You shrugged out of your weathered, fur-collared jacket, leaving it discarded over the couch. Its warmth was constricting in the heat of the cabin.
The stove had come to cooking temperature right on time, just as you had planned. A pot of water boiled lazily from its place atop it, vegetables on the cutting board beside it.
"Thought it was my turn to cook?" You turned to find her watching you from the couch.
"Oh no. You're going to sit down there and make yourself comfortable, thats what you're going to do."
She almost seemed poised to question you, before settling back down with a chuckle. When you turn back from retrieving a pan off the set wall, she'd wrapped herself in your discarded jacket.
"Didn't I tell you not to wear that?"
"You said to get comfortable. Besides, I need to get my scent inside it. Let everyone know what's mine" A devilish glint came to her eyes as she emphasised those last two words, wriggling smugly.

You huffed theatrically as you turned back to your culinary ministrations. You make short work of the potatoes, submerging them into the boiling pot, a steamer full of carrots atop it. In a cast iron pan, gravy simmered and bubbled, thick slices of mushroom floating in the thick substance. (You'd foraged those yourself, much to your self satisfaction). Earlier preparations slashed the amount of time required to make this meal, simple as it was.
Now was the interesting part. Moving casually, you sidle up to the trapdoor to the trapdoor. Lucario had distracted herself with a book, or so she'd like you to think, her eyes frequently flicking to you with amused suspicion. She didn't speak up as you jimmied the hatch open, nor as you carefully clambered down the ladder the short distance to the low-ceilinged, dingy supply cellar.
The cellars darkness obscured much of the rows of endlessly stretching shelves of stacked tins, bags of rice, candles and a multitude of the other supplies a remote outpost like this might need. Darkness obscured much of these. This was fine by you, considering there was only one thing you were looking for. The ice chest sat low in its recessed place underneath the medical cabinet. Lacking a power source, it cooled its contents solely through the addition of cold ice.
You rifled through the chests sparse content and deft amounts of ice, to where it sat, hidden behind a platoon of butter sticks. Far as you could tell she hadn't touched it. Splendid.

"What you got there?" Lucario drew up from her perch on the couch, flashing doe eyes at you.
No point hiding it any longer, you supposed. You bring the package from behind your back with a dramatic wave, bringing it to bear in front of your blue-furred companion.
Lucario's previously cool appearance drops, her eyes boggling as they focus in on your secret.
"Holycrapwheredidyougetthat?"
In what seems to be a blink of the eye, a furry blur clears the distance between you, every bit as fast as its speech. You'd expected her to grab the package. Instead, she'd catapulted herself at you, arms around your neck.
It was a good thing she was wrapped in that big coat, you thought, or else that chest spike of hers might have run you through.

Lucario likes her scotch fillet rare, you know that. Even so, you practically had to fight her away as you fried up the tender, marbled meat, her gaze as she restricted herself from
Fresh meat was difficult to come by out here, owing to your lack of refrigeration. For the past months you'd been out here, you'd been living off of summer sausage, spam, corned beef and whatever fish you'd caught. You'd been , but for your canid companion, the drought of fresh flesh had been close to unbearable. You'd even considered turning to hunting at one point, in spite of your being in a wildlife preserve.
It had been tricky to get ahold of. Isolated as you were, supplies came by way of air, most often a Corviknight or something of that description. You'd had to provide a handwritten note with the courier to request personal items. They weren't covered under the budget, either, meaning a long distance transportation fee that bordered on criminal.
Harder still, had been keeping it a surprise, considering your partners telepathic capabilities. It had taken an amount of effort to stop your mind from thinking of it. Or thinking about thinking of it. Still, as far as you could tell, your plotting had come to fruition.
And it was worth every bit of it just to see that smile.

"You shouldn't have. Never had someone do that for me, out here." Her voice, telepathic as it was, came clear and succinct, despite its owners jaws being stuffed with mashed potato and mushroom gravy. Theres something to it, a tone you have trouble placing.
"Well, I did. My treat." Her expression shows an inability to argue with that logic.
You'd had to hastily clear the table from its usual role of holding random shit. Normally, in your time here, dinner was an outside affair, tended to on camp chairs around a fire pit. Winter was coming early.
The lions share of steak lay on her plate, by your choice. It was largely untouched, mushroom gravy cooling and congealing upon its surface. Presumably, she had left it for later, to better savour its taste in time, made all the sweeter by patience. That was Lucarios for you. So disciplined.
The two of you chat, for a time, assorted smalltalk, as much as one can when they have both lived together in the middle of nowhere for 9 months.
Then she said it.
"You remember when you first came here?" The question catches you off guard, to an extent.
You remember, alright.
The neat little slip of paper left on your desk beside the coffee cup and the pen holder, politely informing you that you were to be sent to the butt end of nowhere in four days time.
The flap of the Noivern as it and its trainer took skyward, leaving you with a cheerful "goodbye", a backpack of luggage and no clear date of when you could leave, beyond an allusion to "Oh, yeah, around 9 months, mate.".
The narrowed, crimson eyes glaring out at you from the window of the rundown cabin.
"Yep."
She looks up at you indescribably.
"That was an interesting time, wasn't it?"
At the beginning of your stint in this loneliness, Lucario had not been the warm, thoughtful creature that now faced you. While she never offered specifics, you knew she'd been there a long time, tending to the survey station with the attentiveness and loyalty her kind were known for. She loved this area, would never leave it. She viewed your appearance as a challenge, an encroachment on her territory,
"That it was." You know she doesn't like talking about it, those first months between you. Puzzling, then, that she brought it up.
She hadn't treated you with aggression outright. Hers was a noble breed, above such abased behaviours. Her reception had merely been as cold and economical as possible.. She figured out how little words she could say to you, and stuck to it. Most often and was away on her duties, both hers and a considerable amount of your workload.
She chuckles, a verbal sound, not telepathic. "Arceus, you were such an idiot when you came out here."
You couldn't argue with that. You were an office drone with a conservation degree and not much else, on the skinny side of skinny-fat and dumb side of dumbass. The closest thing you had to outdoors experience was the 10 minute walk from your bus stop to your house during primary school. You and the wilderness were like cheese and chalk.
"I know that" you chuckle. A grin came to your face at that, one of nostalgia and the humor of previously painful memories.
~
How often did you make mistakes, fid you screw up, those first two or three weeks?
How often did you curse this wretched place, with its lack of air conditioning, clouds of mosquitos, and maddening loneliness?
Curse Arceus, that he might make you go out here, uproot the bland but practical life you'd had set out for yourself, with aspirations of promotions and advancements, each offering slightly more syllabic role titles, and slightly roomier offices.
Curse the straight-backed, quiet creature which corrected your failures, carrying both your burdens without a single complaint, insult or threat, those cold, stone-hard eyes showing the contempt she held for you and your weakness, as she shouldered your burdens.
~
Those eyes looked up to you now. They glittered with sadness, but not tears. That was unbecoming of a Lucario, of course.
"This is it, isn't it? Your 9 months are up out here, and you're going to transfer, aren't you?"
You open your mouth, more out of surprise than retort.
She quickly continues, almost apologetically. "Don't think I don't appreciate it, mind. It's lovely, what you did, a goodbye meal." The uneaten steak makes much more sense now "I saw the turmoil in your heart, human. I saw
"A decision was made. I won't try to change it, to change you."
Those gorgeous crimson eyes seemed to be losing their battle with the tears. They welled in the corners, a thousand tiny refractions showing your face in hers. Her words were stoic, as they always were, even as she battled to suppress them.
"Just please, don't forget me."
~
A month has passed.
Slowly, things get better.
You stopped cursing things quite so often. It doesn't fix things. Fixing things does.
Perhaps the most difficult part was waking up early in the morning.
She changed also, you'd like to think. Where before she was hostile, now, you'd wager, she's merely apathetic. Neutral even.
Rather than simply redo your failures or shoulder mistakes, she'd explain how you did things wrong, curtly show you the correct method or instruction. You began to learn. The most difficult thing to learn, in your mind, was waking up early in the morning.
Most tellingly, she'd ask things of you.
"The rainwater tank is leaking. Fix it."
"There's a disturbance over at grid reference 2842. Check it out."
Her orders were always, quick, practical. The bare minimum of information to guide you.
It made life trickier, being given these things to do, but to treated as an equal, to be trusted, even in this small respect? That was worth it.
You remember the conclusion. You'd been given the duty of securing the foundations of a hydrographic tracker . The foundations needed securing due to the sudden appearance of a summer storm, and the threat of resultant flash flooding.
It had been a treacherous battle, hammering steel pegs into the soft, slippery ground with a loose-headed sledgehammer, as a storm raged malevolently about you, reducing visibility to barely an arms length before yourself.
It had also been a long march back to the cabin, mud weighing down every inch of your jeans, and your hands aching from a dozen cuts courtesy of the wet rocks and unwieldy handle as you blinked dirt and grit from your face.
A form stood in the shelter of the cabin. A still, silent one. It held a towel, which you gladly took.
Yet, this was not the only thing it offered. As you rubbed riverbank mud from your face, two words permeate your mind.
"Good job."
With that, it turned back, and strode out of sight back into the cabin.
You were so surprised you couldn't speak.
~
You're speechless. Genuinely.
You can't think of anything to say, so you don't.
You unbutton your work shirts breast pocket, and remove its contents, merely handing it to her.
She reads it, her big wet slits of eyes staring through blurry tears. They harden in surprise.
Its a good thing you had begun to stand, because you might have been knocked off your chair, so forcefully did she come to you.
She doesn't bother with mind-speak, yelling and sobbing into your chest in her native tongue. You hear your name, but otherwise, the words are incomprehensible. Are they thankyous, half-formed cries of emotion and little else, same as those of any human?
Does it matter?
It's her, and that does.
The corner of something flicks against your ankle. You look down, past the shaking, vulnerable woman in your arms.
Its a neat little slip of paper. A neat little slip of paper Lucario dropped in its hurry to embrace you.
A neat little slip of paper you kept in your breast pocket, so you wouldn't lose it until tomorrow, when the next supply Corviknight came.
At the top of it, there are words.
At the bottom of it, there are two little black boxes.
Only one of them has a tick through it.
~
Five months have passed. Summer is coming to a close, You have changed also. Your arms are stiff with muscle, and your stomach no longer sags over your waistband.
You've not just changed physically, but mentally.
You can climb a tree with nary but the belt about your waist.
You can look at the sun in the sky and tell the time to a half-hour.
You can distinguish an Aggron from a Golem by the amount of metal particles in their shit.
Maybe its the culmination of your inner deranged hermit, but you begin to find a calming quality to the wilds. The crisp lick of the morning dew, taste of the clean air, and serenade of bird calls. The endless, reedy howl of of the wind in the spruce, birch and aspen. Cliche as it is, there is a beauty to be found in isolation.
But then, you aren't alone, are you?
The red-eyed creature you've called a roommate for the past five months has warmed, in its own way. You talk, on occasion. You are unsure what topics interest a Lucario, and she, a human.
You've still grown closer, though. The cabin has needed repairs, being in a run-down. In this you've formed a mutual alliance, of sorts, as you endeavor the repair the . You'll be out of here before the winter, before the weather gets too wild, but still, it feels right. You wonder . If she spent any winters.
On this night you march into the house, in your chest, the pride of a job well done. The last of the leaks in the roof are gone. The windows are washed, and where there was a gaping hole to the cellar, there is now a trapdoor.
You even traded a kilo of sugar, two months worth, to an Ursaring for an unholy amount of blankets and quilts. Where they came from, you've not the faintest clue. But they're warm.
Your eyes shift to the bed. Her bed, a fact you not questioned once in your time here, from your place of rest on the couch. Speaking of it, your pillow has been taken. Its found its way to the bed. A Lucario-shaped lump lies facing the wall, as far from the other side as humanly possible. Its stillness implying sleep, or the
A corner of the thick quilt has been folded over itself, almost daintily, revealing the mattress beneath.
An invitation.
~
You lay on the couch together, her laying against your side. A time has passed since the evening. Since you had your dinner, meant to celebrate your renewal of your position here. Since the neat little paper slip. Since you let her cry her happy tears into your shoulder.
There aren't many things lonelier than a moonless winter night out here. But
A storm has come through just now, as if fearful of the sun, slow but persistent, a scout of the winter to come. The chill and darkness of the wind and the rain tries valiantly to force its way into the cabin, only to be vanquished by the cadres of candles about the place, and the roaring might of the fireplace as it belts away before you, fueled by a hearty stack of firewood.
And the velvety fur which presses against your side.
You're not doing much of anything, either of you. Normally, you'd turn on the radio, and listen to one of the few music programs or radio-dramas which lurk the airwaves of the lonely forest night. Or perhaps read one of the dog-eared crime thriller paperbacks which seemed to infest old houses like this with the tenacity of cockroaches.
Yet that doesn't seem quite right, not at this quiet moment.
The shape beside you shifts, moving its weight from against your arm, to splay belly down against your lap. Lucario's arm gestures towards yours in mock feebleness, its wordless suggestion clear.
Your hands glide across her back. Beneath the pliant, luxuriously plush fur of her back, strong muscle and sinew lies. You splay your fingers, seeking out the natural rises and falls of the surface. She shivers. You rub gently, . The tense flesh begins to soften under your touch, to a variety of growls and whimpers from the Lucario slouched across your lap. You massage her back, shoulders and neck, the tough skin of your fingers working the stress from her tight, worried flesh. For her part she slumps across you, groaning with relief from your ministrations.
Eventually, she speaks up.
"You know those contracts renewals are longer than the initial posting, right? You're stuck here with me for 3 more years, idiot."
You know that. She knows you know that. Its printed in bold on the neat little sheet of paper.
"And that when winter comes, they can't pull you out no matter what? Once the last Corviknight comes tomorrow, it'll just be the two of us up here, nobody else, for four whole months."
"I'm completely aware."
She flops over onto her back, her starry eyes peering up at you
"Then tell me, human. Why? Why do you stay out here in the arse end of nowhere, when you could go back to civilisation, to your own kind, own women, and never look back?"
She's a Lucario. You can't lie to one of them. So you don't. You stare down at her, and speak your truth, the most important one you've ever said.
"You"

With a burst of fluidity, she pulls herself completely upright, straddling your lap, legs firm around you waist.
Those red eyes seem to bore into your soul, mere inches from yours. There was something in them you hadn't seen before. Something fierce and instinctual. Something very attractive.
"Oh shut up. Go on, give me the real reason."
"Its the truth. You of anyone should know that. What do you want me to tell you?"
She grins toothily "Tell me I'm pretty"
"You're the prettiest"
"The prettiest, am I? How about the most beautiful lucario in the world?
"Always have been" You smile at her.
"How about the most beautiful woman, eh? Pokémon, human, fucking whatever. Am I that?"
"Never a doubt."
"Suckup." She doesn't sound that upset, though.
"Tell me that I'm the only one for you"
"You're the only one for me"
"That you're mine alone"
"I'm yours"
Her face gets a scratch closer to yours. You can feel her hot breath on your lips.
"That you're going to stay here forever."
"I'm going to stay here, with you, forever"
"And ever" She draws that last bit out, the words rolling off a nonexistent tongue.
"And ever"
Except you don't get to finish that last one. She thrusts forward, lips meeting yours, the sudden intrusion of her tongue silencing you. You're only too happy to reciprocate, wrapping your hands behind her neck as you lean forward to meet her. She growls in pleasure, a bass sound that rumbles through your chest. Her eyes are closed as she holds herself ever closer to you . You close yours in turn, the loss of sight making your other sense all the more stronger.
The taste of her tongue around yours, as it explores the reaches of your mouth.
The play of her fur in your arms, far softer than you'd ever realised, so silky and satin.
The sweet feminine scent she's spreading over you, marking you as hers.
You stay like that for a time, merely enjoying one another.
~
8 months have now passed. You think little of your changes. It's just life, now.
So is Lucario. It seems right to call her a friend. You don't think she'd mind. You talk frequently, have for some time. Share jokes and stories and other warm affectations. You enjoy being around her, have for some time. She seems to agree, considering that most often you do your duties together, now.
Slowly, she edges away from her corner of the bed which you now share, to share the bed comfortably with you, heaped with its piles of ursine fabrics.
Sometimes, you wake to see her asleep, arms wrapped about your form. You haven't the heart to wake her.
You woke up to her missing, off on some unknown trip. You've the feeling you know where.
You climb up the towers rickety construction. You don't often come up here, it being her private place, the spot she goes and look out upon her domain.
Today though, it feels right. The gate surrounding the ladder swings freely, where it has never once before. Another of her little nonverbal invitations.
You climb the ladder tentatively, chipped white paint coming away beneath your fingers. You nearly stop, fear running through you as you see the height at which you stand, from which you'd fall, if either you or the bolts holding you were to fail. But you make your way up in due time. And goodness, is it worth it.
The view from up here is beautiful, enough to make you pause in awe. The mountain ranges spread across the horizon, like the spine of along dead god with frothing, flowing rivers for veins. Lakes shine merrily in the sunlight. You almost forget your purpose for being her, don't realise she's there until you hear her speak.
"I've been out here six years, know that. Just about as long as I've been with the Rangers. First and only posting."
She says the words without turning to you from her view across the , as if unsurprised by your presence.
"Come to think of this neck of the word as mine. How primal of me, I know. But someone has to have something, don't they?"
She doesn't wait for an answer before continuing. "Seen six humans come through here in that time. Each came. Each went, come nine months."
"I'm a Lucario, you know that. Pack mentality, what have you. Form close bonds easy. And I have. Each and every time."
"But then, they leave. And it hurts. Arceus be damned, it hurts." She seems about to further rant, but stops herself.
"Humans" Telepathic as it is, you can hear the bitterness in her voice. "So impermanent. So unreliable. At one point, you realise its easier to not bother with 'em."
You restrain yourself from questioning her, just as she turns to you. But Arceus, if those eyes aren't piercing.
"You, however. You. Something different about you. Something right, if you will. Its as if you belong. Out here." She pauses, says the last part slightly quieter. "With me."
The wind blows. The tower creaks laboriously. Her eyes come up in query, piercing. "Do you, human?"
You consider her question, and speak truthfully. "I honestly don't know"
You step closer. "But I can try"
She looks up at you, her cold mask replaced by a melancholic little smile. "That works."
You initially are surprised by her suddeness, by the small, strong form which found its way between your arms, and tilted up to meet you.
But this is but a second. Your hands soon find their way around her. You shut your eyes, and lean into her, and meet her lips. Its your first time ever doing this with a Pokemon, doing something you'd never dreamed of eight months earlier.
And yet, there is something different. Something right, if you will.
Perhaps you do belong here.
With nothing but the aspens for witnesses, you kiss.

You open your eyes again, to be met with her once again.
"You know, if I want to make you mine, theres one last thing I have to do. We have to do"
A mimic of her earlier actions, one of her hands find its way to yours and takes it. It gently guides it from her neck, descending painfully slowly as she takes care to make you brush against every inch of her body on the trip down, every soft curve hidden beneath the fur.
"What would that be?" You play innocent, despite knowing precisely what's going on. Some might find it objectionable, a union of this sort, of smooth flesh and soft fur. But here, with your only companion of these nine months, a few wrong turns deeper than the middle of nowhere, it couldn't feel more right.
She half giggles, half growls. "Don't be like that. You're above it. I can feel your emotions." There's a weight to those words "I can smell it on you. What I'm doing to you." It comes out as a whisper, even in your mind.
Her hand guides you ever lower, beneath the pert edges of her backside. You take a greedy squeeze of it, causing her to exhale suddenly, before you move your hand to exactly where it wants to be.
She stifles a whine as you tease at her lips. For all her talk of your desire, she seems to be much the same. You can feel the anticipation in her frame. Feel the heat coming from her, the wetness.
You can't bear to keep her, and so indulge her, sinking your digits softly into her as she growls in release, arms wrapping her that much closer to you. You press deeper, feeling her tighten around you, pull against your fingers, try to take them deeper, ever deeper.
"Where was all that tough talk from earlier?" You tease, despite the lack
She huffs at this, grinding against your lap in a pointedly deliberate manner. She pulls a smug face when her efforts yield return, a paw reaching out to rub at your concealed erection through your pants. In return, you press your thumb hard against her, seeking and finding a soft button of flesh, and rubbing it mercilessly. She jerks at that, her sex molding around you welcomingly. Her mouth comes down, biting down on your shoulder without breaking the skin, more for support than anything as she anchors her bucking body against yours.
All of a sudden, you feel her breath hitch, ever muscle tensing as her back straightens, and she bites down further, hard enough to hurt. She spasms and twitches around you, her limbs going limp as she holds on weakly, riding out her climax as she ground mindlessly against your hand, her mouth a chorus of whimpers and strained growls, before going still, the tired rise and fall of her chest her sole movement. A half minute passes like this, her pressing against you as you hold her.
You look down to see the previously overwhelmed, shaking Lucario looking dead straight at you, through you even, with a sharp stare bordering on predatory. The fire in her is nowhere near gone, if not stoked even further by your efforts. She barks an order, one of those monosyllabic commands, like it was your first month here yet again.
"Bed. Go."
You obey.

She wraps her legs around your waist as the two of you move, not allowing you the slightest reprise from contact with her as you carry her with you. Not that you'd want any.
You drop her to the soft reaches of the bed. Not her bed, or yours, but both. You'd discarded your belt and workpants for more comfortable attire before dinner, so disrobing is a simple affair, as it should be.
You turn from throwing away your shirt, expecting to see her in some manner of presentation. Instead, she takes you by the hand and guides you to the bed.
"No." Her eyes are still fiery with that primal light "I'm supposed to make you mine, and I will, get it?" You're all too happy to let her.
She stalks over your prone body with a dramatic gait. A smug smirk lights her face as she levels her face with your crotch, a hands on either thigh
She begins by licking tentatively at you, masking her nervousness with a confident grin. Her tongue is strong, its texture bordering on rough, as it curls around your member in lazy revolutions,. She slowly sways her hips inches from your face, tail erect and wagging in tune, giving you a teasing view of the inviting reaches of her femininity.
"You humans usually don't smell good. Synthetic. Rubbery. Like things made in factories. Fake, is what I'm trying to say."
"But man smell..." She lets the sinking of her jaws around your length finish the sentence. Her mouth is warm and so very tight around you, as she presses and suckles against you, agonisingly and intentionally slow and methodical.
"Not a whole lot truer than that, there isn't." Her eyes flick to you frequently to gauge your reaction, her eyes narrowing in self satisfaction which each flinch and gasp she draws from you. It seems to make her more confident, as she heightens her pace, he tongue so warm and tight around you dick as she works away at making you feel good. Pointed teeth scrape against your dick at times, their hard surface only adding another level of new and wonderful sensation.
You put a strong hand to the back of her head, more by reflex than real intent. She chuckles, muttering something in her language, around the lengths of your dick. It sounds pleased enough.
You feel a growing tightness in your chest, signifying release, and feel ready to release, when suddenly she pulls away, tongue slipping from around you with a deliberately and frustrating slowness. You're about to protest, when she turns to face you.
"No. You don't get to. Not like that, no. Thats for me, all of it. All of you, for that matter. Mine."
It seems her ministrations have not only stoked your passions. The fire in her eyes dances in a frenzy behind those scarlet irises and massively dilated pupils, her stoic composure dropped as she pants and growls, focus fixed solely on you. You feel the drip of wetness onto your crotch from hers, from where she leans above you. The more composed part of your mind flashes a brief reflection on the heat cycles of Lucario, before being pummeled into submission by your heart, which is focused solely on the matters at hand.
"Well, you're mine too." You retort, growing tired of her "mine" mantra.
She grins, licking precum from around her mouth. "Naturally. Wouldn't have it any other way"
Is what she would have said, did you not reach up to her chest halfway through her sentence, and squeeze hard on a soft nub hidden beneath her fur
Her telepathy cuts off sharply, as a sound halfway between a whine, a growl, and a yelp comes from her. Its not a pained one, as the arching of her back shows. She glares at you, or at least tries to, a sharp-toothed grin coming to her instead.
"You said you were mine, too." You offer as an excuse.
"Yes. Yes I did, didn't I? I guess. Good. Still have to something about it though, I'm afraid."
With that, she brought herself down sharply against you.

You'd thought her mouth was nice. Nonsense. As she takes you within her, you swear you can feel your soul leaving, as her insides pull and constrict around every inch of you with every rise and fall of her body against yours. She growls out in pleasure as your hips meet, paws coming to your shoulders.
She leans forward, eyes level with you as your hands explore her, gliding up from her hips to cup and squeeze around her chest. Your tongues mingle in the night air, you dipping down to explore her neck and collarbone with the nipping edges of your teeth, to her blatant delight.
She doesn't bother mind-speaking, perhaps even can't in the midst of your passions, her mind reshaped by its primal urges. The odd word or cry comes from her mouth though, and she says your name more than once.
Once more, you, her movements atop you bringing you to a peak, her body coaxing pleasure from you like no woman ever has before, as you lay below her, a willing prisoner to your base instincts. The manic, jerking movements of your lover suggest she's not much unlike.
And then, she stops.
Her snout pressed against you, you see the flames in her eyes quelled for the moment, something else in their place. Fear? She's deathly still, hovering above you, as she asks you one last request.
"Say that you lo-"
"I love you." You interrupt her. With that, you bring your hands down to her waist and she slams against you one last time, join the two of you together in the truest display of love, of unity. She grips you for dear life, both inside and out, her arms arching around your back as you feel yourself empty inside of her, feel her tighten deep around you, trap you in her, her walls pulsing around your sensitive length as she drains you for every last drop, Take whats mine, she'd say, if she were in any state to do so, instead of slouching against you, eyes closed and tongue out. You stay like that, wrapped around one another, even long after the you pull apart at the waist, bathing in the post-coital glow and the beauty of one another.
You tell her how much you love her, how you'll never leave her.
She whispers sweet nothings into the crook of your neck, words you don't understand, but are doubtless to the same effect.
So you lay on that empty night.

"And that's that" She says, with a simplistic finality. "You are now my mate."
You've just pulled up from each others embrace after what seems an eternity, and now sit beside one another on the edge of the bed.
The heat inside her eyes has died down now, her pupils no longer dilated, and she's thus returned to her serious, if snarky self.
"Guess I am." You aren't entirely sure what else to say. You sit there a while, not a word. It isn't awkward, exactly. More comfortable. Familiar.
Eventually, you break the silence.
"Whats that mean, exactly? Being your mate."
She gives you an blank stare "What do you think it means?" She sniffs "You've the distinct honor of being the lifetime partner of a Lucario, and ruling my territory alongside me. You've access to all that brings. All the advantages, all the quirks. All the benefits."
A coy smile at that.
"All you need to do is tell me I'm pretty, once in a while, and maybe hold me and pet me, just like you're going to in five minutes time."
"That, and well, do the job I just signed on for three more years of" You add.
"Yes, and that." She waves her hand to the window outside. "Perhaps we could even make this place a little less lonely, you know, pups and all."
You nod, take a packet of tissues from the bedside table, clean yourself. You offer a few to Lucario, who takes them eagerly, before freezing.
"You said pups."
"Yes"
"What does that mean?" You get the same look as the last time you asked the question "Ok, Well, is it even possible? Would they be riolu? Human? Something else?"
"Maybe on all counts. I'm fairly certain it can be done though"
She looks at you then with a knowing, wolfish grin, and you realise that that the fire in her is not even close to going out.
"Only one way to find out, isn't there?"
Your gaze turns away from your lover as she tidies herself, to the window outside, the army of identical pines and spruces, the only other souls to know of your nighttime passions. The raindrops have changed, their descent now slow and flurried as they descend. Snow.
You pull up one of the many woolen blankets which cover the bed, wrapping it around your shoulders. You gesture to Lucario, who eagerly pulls herself into it with you, her head resting just below your chin as she sighs contentedly.
You've signed yourself into three more years of a posting in the middle of nowhere. The winter to come is predicted to be the most wild one in a century. You might soon be the father of... something.
The future you set out for yourself is gone, dead, torn apart by soft paws and tender lips. You don't regret it in the slightest.
You can only see one absolute in your future, feel it resting its head in the crook of your neck and arms around your waist.
This winter will not be a lonely one.