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ladyartemesia · 4 years

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The Secret

◐ PART IV of THE ALPHA ◐

◐ Part I ◐ Part II ◐ Part III ◐ Series Masterlist ◐

Pairing: Alpha Werewolf Jimin x Omega Reader

Rating: Mature (for this installment)

Warnings: ABO sexual dynamics including discussion of scenting, marking, mating, and claiming. Violence and discussion of violence relating to ritual combat. Jin’s pheromones need their own warning. Yoonji and Yunli are not the same person.

Word Count: 3600

Author’s Note: This update literally made me sob because I edited it and formatted it and it just disappeared when I posted. I seriously felt my heart drop because it took so long to format... ANYWAYS I wonder if anyone guessed the secret.

”You can’t do this, Luna ... Come back inside.”

Your hand tightened on the doorknob.

“I was just going out for some air-”

Jin shook his head, letting his lanky frame collapse onto the overstuffed chair by the fireplace.

“And after the air... then what?”

Your terse silence was confirmation enough.

He sighed heavily, hating himself a little for what he had to do.

“You cannot go to him. They’ll smell you on his skin and it could cost him... dearly.”

Your eyes fluttered shut.

“I just wanted to see him...,” you whispered. “I wanted to talk to him just once before-”

A sob bubbled up in your throat and your hand flew up to cover it.

The dawn would come in two hours.

And then Park Jimin would be gone.

Jin’s arms wrapped around your shoulders and you fell against him hopelessly.

“They’re going to make me watch, Jin-ah. I-I have to watch him-”

Bitter tears overtook you, wracking your body with the violence of your despair.

“I know...,” he murmured softly into your hair, “I know.”

“Do you think he’ll really show up?”

The chief elder glared fiercely at the young man who dared voice such a question.

The entire pack had jammed themselves into the clearing where the challenge was taking place and despite the solemnity of the occasion, the atmosphere buzzed with barely contained speculation.

“Park Jimin was chosen by the goddess herself to be her champion or to be the divine test of her champion. Have some respect,” he hissed.

The young pup had the decency to look abashed, but the chief elder was already ignoring him in favor of the newest arrival...

A Luna wore only three ceremonial colors at any given time.

Green for celebration and harvest was worn in times of laughter and gaiety.

Blue for mourning and peaceful resolve was worn in times of trial and hardship.

Red for passion and vengeance was worn in times of war and signified the sacred bonds that wove the pack together.

Your mother laid out a blue cloak as it was the color chosen by every Luna who had ever faced down a provocatione ritual.

But you arrived in sumptuous Red.

It was a stunning act of defiance, a wordless declaration of your fury. You were here to obey the goddess, but in a crimson cloak you would not embrace this challenge with peaceful resolve.

An attack upon your mate, even under these circumstances, was an attack upon you.

You had come dressed for war.

Jimin heard the gasps echo around his meditation cell.

He and Namjoon arrived at the sacred circle a full hour before dawn and sequestered themselves in the small, free-standing hovels on opposing sides of the the site.

The tiny pods were spaces for an individual to commune with the goddess and center themselves before engaging in the typically life-altering events that brought them there.

Sometimes it was marriage or celebration, sometimes it was acceptance to one of the guilds or a promotion to a higher rank within your family’s clan...

Today it was life and death and the future of the pack that weighed upon the combatants’ shoulders.

The sudden swell of movement and sound pulled Jimin from his meditative state.

What happened?

He got his answer soon after an elder came to escort him into the circle.

It was you.

Your hands and feet were bound to the ornately carved chair they had seated you in. This was a typical precaution because it was natural for a wolf to defend their mate if they were in danger and the restraints kept the Luna from doing so.

The pain in your gaze was agonizing, but in red, flowing down from your shoulders with fiery obstinance, you were every inch the warrior queen.

Yet it was not your rebellious cloak or even your incredible beauty that caused his heart to pound and stutter in glorious shock...

It was the familiar praesidium bracelet wrapped around your wrist; an intimate message of devotion that he and he alone would understand.

Pride and possessiveness roared to life in Jimin’s chest.

She’s mine.

“You look... surprisingly calm.”

Taehyung jerked guiltily.

“What? Me? I don’t know anything - I mean I’m not calm - I’m frantic. I - I don’t even understand the question.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows raised right up into his hairline.

“Taehyung-ah? Did you put those special mushrooms in your broth this morning? You’re acting a bit strange-”

“No,” Taehyung’s voice cracked. “This is me - this is totally normal me. I’m not - there were no mushrooms-” He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “So - uh - how’s Yoonji?”

“Oh my go- really?!”

The chief elder began to recite his speech, reminding the pack of the profound significance this moment carried...

But Yunli could barely hear his words over the ringing in her ears. Her gaze fixed on Namjoon from the moment the elder brought him forward... yet he had not glanced toward her once.

He looked so strong and confident.

So capable of victory.

A faint whimper of abject sorrow worked its way passed her lips and Namjoon’s eyes flew to her instantly.

As if he had always known exactly where she was.

Longing split his features for a fraction of a second.

Then his gaze shuttered again and Yunli’s wolf howled in silent, mournful agony.

Anticipation bore down upon the assembly as the chief elder uttered the last few sentences with reluctant finality.

The moment had come.

Both alphas stepped into the circle.

You began to tug frantically - futilely - against the bonds. Jin’s hand gripped yours as a tear slipped heedlessly down his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon whispered - to you - to Yunli - to Jimin -

To himself.

Then his claws lengthened to a deadly point and he tore forward with a chilling snarl.

Jimin remained unnaturally still, watching his rival barrel towards him with almost calculated intent.

Namjoon’s arm drew back to land the first strike and-

———◐———

Last Night...

———◐———

“Wait - WHAT?!”

“It was... me. I broke the table.”

Taehyung drew back slowly. His eyebrows furrowed in profound confusion.

“With what? A jackhammer!?”

Jimin tilted his head in amusement.

“Hammerfist strike... actually.” He shrugged. “I lost my temper.”

“You - You lost your-“ Tae began shaking his head rapidly. “Is it a spell of some sort?! Goddess you know better than to get tangled up with witches! You let them give you a band aid and then they show up ten years later asking for your firstborn!”

Jimin rolled his eyes.

“Of course not! No... it’s...” he bit his lip. “You remember that time I came to your house a little too early and... Yoonji had you tied to a bed...”

Tae paled.

“We agreed never to speak of that.”

“And I haven’t - spoken of it - especially since Yoongi still thinks his precious baby cousin is unaware of big bad boy wolves and if he found out you were corrupting her-”

“Wait. You think I was corrupting her?!“

“The point is... it’s a secret. And I know you have your reasons for keeping it that way so... I hope you’ll understand what I’m about to tell you...”

———◐———

Fourteen Years Ago...

———◐———

Jimin’s hands fidgeted nervously over the flyer that the human boy offered him.

“But I’m only in Seoul for the summer.”

Just long enough to miss Alpha Camp entirely.

“That’s perfect because it’s only a summer program. Seriously, you were so fast catching that jar I knocked over. Your reflexes are amazing and it looks like you’ve got the perfect build for it too.” He tapped the flyer for emphasis. “Think about it.”

No one had ever told Park Jimin that he would be good at anything like this. In fact most people told him he needed to be better...

Bigger.

Stronger.

His eyes traveled over the large letters printed at the top of the brochure.

“Taekwondo...”

——◐——

“...so thank you all again for signing up and attending the orientation. I will see you tomorrow for our first class.”

A strange sense of anticipation hummed through Jimin as he gathered his coat. He was finally doing something for himself; something that had nothing to do with being an alpha-

“You’re a wolf, aren’t you...”

The young instructor who gave the initial demonstration and spoke for most of the orientation stood behind him with his arms crossed.

Jimin’s eyes widened in shock.

“How did you know?”

The stranger tapped his nose.

“My grandfather had a human mate and his pack exiled him for it. I’m mostly human, but this nose can pick up another wolf’s scent just as well as yours.”

Modern packs didn’t exile wolves with human mates anymore, but fifty years ago the practice was still unfortunately common.

“I’m sorry about your grandfather.”

The young man smiled.

“He lived a long happy life with his mate and his family. There’s nothing to be sorry for.” He stretched out his hand. “Lee Taemin.”

“Park Jimin.”

They shook firmly, and Taemin continued to examine him with unconcealed interest.

“Tell me, Park Jimin, what’s an alpha wolf doing all the way out in Seoul? The only pack around here married their last child into one of the mountain nations years ago.”

“That was my mother, actually... I’m here visiting my grandmother.”

Taemin tilted his head curiously.

“I’ve never known wolves to be interested in human martial arts. You lot prefer to fight shifted... In fact, I doubt a mountain wolf could even throw a punch,” he snorted, “not that they’d need to with those fangs.”

Jimin’s shoulders fell a little.

“So... you don’t think I’ll be good at it.”

“On the contrary, I think you could be incredible.”

The young wolf’s face brightened immediately.

“Really?! Even if I’m not as strong as other wolves?”

“Taekwondo isn’t about strength. It’s about speed. Master the speed and the strength will follow.”

———◐———

“Relax your body. Focus your energy.”

Jimin drew in a deep breath as he moved through the pattern Taemin taught him.

“The power and speed of your wolf is constant, but most wolves do not bother channeling it in human form. Concentrate on your wolf and bring that power into your strike.”

His hand came down on the thin press wood and-

It hurt. A lot.

Taemin chuckled as Jimin cussed and swore, cradling his tender fist grouchily.

“You’ll get it. Just keep practicing.”

“Are you sure I’ll be able to break the boards one day?”

The boy’s face was so round and adorably hopeful. Taemin nodded confidently and offered him some ice.

“A human with training can break boards, but a wolf who harnessed his natural speed and strength could break much more than that.”

———◐———

Twelve Years Ago...

———◐———

“You’ve improved a great deal since last summer. Were you finally able to find a teacher near your pack?”

“Yes - but... she’s not as good as you.”

Finding a local Taekwondo teacher had been the easy part.

Constantly making up excuses to explain his habitual disappearances...

That was trickier.

His mother thought he was hunting with Taehyung, Taehyung thought he was sniffing around some human girl and needed a buddy to cover his tracks.

Sneaking away to practice wasn’t too difficult, but he panicked when Yoongi caught him moving through forms in the woods once and pretended to be doing an interpretive dance.

With no music.

Yoongi had looked at him a little funny since then.

Taemin grinned. “Of course she’s not as good as me. I’m the best. Now take position and let’s see if you can finally land this kick.”

———◐———

Ten Years Ago...

———◐———

Jimin glared at the thick oak board Taemin sent him home with this year.

“It’s a 4x6 solid oak plank. I want you to break it before the winter solstice.”

He snorted, positioning the board between the makeshift vices he fashioned to hold it in place.

“Sure, I’ll just get right on that.”

“...Who are you talking to?”

Jimin groaned internally.

Of course.

“Hey guys,” he turned to greet Jungkook and Hoseok brightly (while completely ignoring the question). “Where - where are you two headed today?”

Jungkook’s eyes sparkled with excitement.

“One of the elders is going to teach us how to build traps! He invited all the unmated alphas to go with him past the boundary lines to test whatever we make!”

A familiar embarrassment settled heavily in Jimin stomach.

“Oh... I uh... I didn’t hear that.”

“I’m sure it was just a mistake that they didn’t call for you,” Hoseok rushed to reassure him. “You could come with us. I don’t think the elder would mind.”

The older boy’s gaze was filled with discomfort... and pity.

Jimin cleared his throat and forced up a sunny smile.

“No that’s fine - I have work to do anyways so...”

Jungkook nodded quickly, desperate to escape the unexpectedly awkward conversation.

“Have fun!” he shouted, already beginning to jog away.

Jimin watched quietly as their figures grew smaller, waiting till their clumsy steps no longer disturbed the stillness around him.

He should be used to it by now...

The passive rejection.

It shouldn’t bother him anymore. There was no malicious intent... just casual dismissal again and again and again-

An angry roar tore past his lips as he brought his hand down on the board.

It cracked in half.

———◐———

Eight Years Ago...

———◐———

“It’s strange but - I feel like the better I become at this, the stronger my wolf is.”

“That isn’t strange at all. You and your wolf are two halves of a whole. The more you balance your energy, the more your strengths can be shared. Now - stop stalling and get to it.”

Jimin eyed Taemin’s latest idea with a reluctant groan.

“None of the other students have to break cinder block.”

“None of the other students are wolves. Besides, it’s been 6 years, you’ve broken stacks of boards. It’s time for a real challenge.”

“I’m lucky I haven’t broken a bone,” Jimin mumbled irritably.

He did that day, but it was healed in a week and he broke his first cinderblock a month later.

———◐———

Five Years Ago...

———◐———

“Remember, timing is everything. Never let your opponent see what you’re going to do.”

“How many times do you think I’ve heard that over the last ten years?”

“Not enough, clearly. You’re still telegraphing with that right foot.”

Jimin’s left hand shot out and connected with Taemin’s jaw.

“Am I?”

Taemin blinked up at him from the floor.

“Ok. I admit. That was pretty impressive.”

———◐———

Three Years Ago...

———◐———

“Oh! I’m so sorry, I was looking for Jin.”

Jimin scrambled to his feet, dumping the pile of pebbles he collected (for his mother’s garden) noisily to the ground.

“Luna...”

He took a discreet step backward as your gaze scanned the area in frustration.

“You haven’t seen my cousin, have you?”

Jimin gulped.

He had seen Kim Seokjin - leading a curvy beta girl (nose first no doubt) in the direction of the old wading pool. It took every bit of self-restraint he possessed not to laugh out loud each time Jin bashfully declared that he was a ‘good boy’ and to ‘be gentle with him,’ - after all, he’d given the same speech to two other she-wolves last week.

Best not to scar her for life. Some things cannot be unseen.

His mind darted briefly to the scene he’d walked into at Taehyung’s house yesterday.

“I have no idea where Seokjin is, Luna.”

You sighed, gnawing absently at your lip while you considered his words, and Jimin felt a familiar hint of futile longing whisper through him.

He’d never been so close to you, and now that he was, his wolf was making all sorts of insane suggestions to keep you near.

Do a backflip. Climb a tree. Build her a house.

Jimin bent quickly to gather his scattered stones, ashamed at the direction of his thoughts.

You were so incredibly beautiful...

It was almost enough to make him forget that he would only ever be Park Jimin.

He couldn’t blame the others for fighting and fawning over your attention like they did. You were the moon and every man around you was drawn in like the tide.

“Today is my seventeenth birthday, you know.”

Jimin looked up to discover that you had moved much closer and were now looking down at him expectantly.

He blinked. Twice.

“I - yes. I did know.”

The entire pack was celebrating. He’d have to be comatose not to know.

“Should I save you a dance, Park Jimin?”

Up until that exact second, Jimin would have bet his life savings that you did not know his name.

Yet here you were - so very close to him - gazing down into his eyes almost shyly.

He nodded because he couldn’t think of a single reason not to give you anything you wanted. And when you smiled so brilliantly - he almost believed that you truly wanted to dance with him...

Almost.

He never went to your party.

He never danced with you.

Not that day. Not ever.

Because deep down he suspected that if he held you in his arms - even once - he would never truly let go.

He was sure you wouldn’t notice his absence... You wouldn’t remember talking to him by the time the evening rolled around.

He never saw you search the crowds for his face right up until the midnight bell.

He never saw you turn down dance after dance hoping that the beautiful boy from the forest would finally come and take your hand.

He was your only wish that birthday.

But he never knew.

———◐———

One Year Ago...

———◐———

“I’ve never seen anything like your skill. You’ve long since surpassed me. I’m not sure what more I can teach you,” Taemin smiled, bumping Jimin on the shoulder, “Perhaps you should find a woman and spend a little less time practicing.”

An unwelcome flash of silver eyes and a laugh like sunshine danced through his mind.

“No. I’m... not really the type wolf girls go for.”

Taemin snorted.

“I don’t believe that. Aren’t you an alpha?”

“Yes, but it’s... complicated.”

“Isn’t everything?”

Jimin laughed.

“Yes, I suppose it is.”

Silence settled comfortably between them as they nursed several bottles of soju on his grandmother’s porch. Taemin had charmed the old hellion quite thoroughly and he would often drop by for a visit even when Jimin was back home with his pack.

“So what will you do now?” he asked. “You can’t compete. I can barely withstand sparring with you, and you’d kill a human - even if you landed a blow at half strength.”

Jimin ran his fingers absently through his hair while he pondered his mentor’s words.

“I learned to fight because I was searching for something that would help me sort out who I was.” He scoffed. “I don’t know that I’m any closer to that goal.”

Taemin shook his head.

“No. I think you’ve got it all wrong, Park Jimin. No one achieves what you have without knowing who they are. You’ve always been a fighter and some part of you realizes that.” He sighed heavily and finished off the rest of his drink. “Now I think you’re just... waiting.”

“For what?” Jimin chuckled playfully.

Taemin pulled out another bottle and met his gaze with a knowing grin.

“Something worth fighting for.”

———◐———

Now...

———◐———

Jimin remained unnaturally still, watching his rival barrel towards him with almost calculated intent.

Namjoon’s arm drew back to land the first strike and-

It was fast.

So fast it almost seemed like magic.

One moment the Kim alpha was the barest breath away from a swift and decisive victory-

Then he was crashing backwards onto the dirt.

Those who watched carefully saw Park Jimin spin into a vicious kick, one that connected solidly with the middle of his opponent’s chest.

Stunned silence pressed in from every side as Namjoon scrambled back to his feet, his expression wavering wildly between excruciating pain and monumental shock.

Jimin smiled, letting his razor sharp canines lengthen menacingly as he flowed back into a perfect combat stance.

“You didn’t think I’d just let you have her, did you?”

Please comment if you would like to be added to the taglist! If you have already asked, you will be tagged automatically in every update.

Please please please let me know what you thought of this chapter! (*insert puppy face here*) I am so excited to hear what you think of everything that went down in this update and I savor each word of feedback like fine wine. Your theories and commentary have been such a gift. It truly keeps me writing.

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henryobsessed · 3 years

Text

The Veterinarian and the Werewolf - Chapter 8

Word Count: 1879

Warning: trigger - hunting, and demeaning verbal abuse.

A/N thanks again to my beautiful @sillyrabbit81 for your editing and @amberangel112 for your encouragement.

Chapter 8

Henry could not understand why Jessie was still considering going out with this jerk. He huffed at Joe’s words and was pleasantly surprised at Tom’s reaction. Pleased to have someone in his corner, he nuzzled into the young man’s arms. It felt nice, an odd feeling of loss and regret pulled at his soul. He hadn’t seen his nephew in five years, he would be fifteen years old now four years younger than Tom. Memories of their last time together flooded his mind, the feel of his hands running through his fur. Even then he had refused to change, sadly his nephew had never known him in Human form.

The packhouse was large, made of local stone it would be considered menacing to outsiders. But for those invited in, it was a house filled with love. They had found Henry and his nephew Adam just outside their forest line, half-starved, dehydrated and desperate for care. The pack doctor had tended to Henry whilst one of the pack's mothers had shared her milk with the little pup. Adam had captured the mother’s heart and at Henry’s approval had adopted him into the pack. Henry had grieved the loss of his only kin but been so grateful to them. He knew he could not look after the little one, not with his heartbroken in pieces.

Over the next ten years, he had come and gone from the house checking up on Adam, watched as he grew strong, not only physically, but emotionally he had developed into a beautiful soul. Their last time together they had sat just like he was now with Tom. He had curled up next to Adam, his head in his lap, Adams fingers running through his fur. “I wish you could change for me Uncle, I see all the other dads and sons playing together and I love the idea that when I change next year we can run together. Then I can finally talk to you and hear your voice back. But I want to know what you look like, to be able to hug you like I see that others hug their dads.” His face had added to Henry’s grief looking so heartbroken and longingly at him. He had tried at that moment, had attempted to honour his request but his human side was so lost, hidden in pain. He had left the house that day, knowing even if it broke his heart, he needed to let his nephew grow with his new pack and not be held back by him.

Now nestled against Tom he regretted that decision. He heard a chuckle soft and happy. “Well look at you two. I would never have guessed Wolfy could be so comfortable with another human. I haven’t seen him like that with anyone except with me. What’s your secret Tom?” Her bright eyes landed on Tom who had continued to scratch behind Henry’s ears.

“I don’t know Miss Jessie, but I have always loved wolves, well any kind of animal really but especially wolves.”

She seemed thoughtful as she eyed them both making Henry wonder what she had planned. “Tom, are you free tonight? I have a date and I really don’t want to leave Wolfy alone again.” Henry felt Tom stiffen. Wondering what was wrong with the request, he moved his head to look up at the boy.

A brief look of disapproval flashed in his eyes before they softened as he looked down and saw Henry watching him. “Yes, Miss Jessie. I would love to spend more time with this beautiful boy.” Internally he chuckled at Tom’s words, if only he knew he was twelve years older than him.

That afternoon Henry, Jessie and Tom spent out in the garden. Tom seemed to fit beautifully into their friendship group kneeling beside Jessie as they planted new flowers and shrubs where they had pulled up the weeds. Together, Henry dug the holes, Tom placed the plants and held them in place whilst Jessie filled the soil around them. Henry enjoyed hearing the light conversation between his Mate and his new friend until it became heavier. “So, Tom, when did you begin to love wolves? I know your father traps them, so I’m interested as to why you don’t follow his belief.”

Tom continued to work, as a gentle hum was heard working up from his throat. “I know why Dad does it, although I don’t think he is correct. He blames the wolves for his loss of cattle, but I haven’t seen that many around. The wild dogs are more to blame but he won't listen. They have a group that meet purely to discuss the wolf problem, but in my whole life, the only large group I have seen was back when I was four. It’s the first and last time Dad allowed me to come to a hunting party. Mom was horrified that he was taking me, but I wanted so much to be with Dad, and he wanted me to be just like him.”

Henry shuddered as the boy spoke as if by some force of nature, he knew that he was about to hear what had happened that day. He also sensed the grief radiating off the boy, wanting to calm him he pushed his body into Tom’s side. Nuzzling his head as if to say, “It's ok, I’m here for you.” Tom let out a heavy chuckle as if he had heard Henry’s voice.

He sat back looking down at Henry as he spoke, “Thanks Wolfy, you would think that I would not remember something that happened that long ago, but it's imprinted in my mind. They had been tracking a pack that had only just entered the area, convinced the rest of the ranchers that they were a risk to our lively hood, that we couldn’t let them nest here. So, the best of their marksman left, when we found them all, sitting around a tree, curled up sleeping, all I wanted to do was go play with the cuddly animals. Dad kept pulling me back holding me still and quiet. I didn’t understand until the loud bangs began.”

Tom’s voice wobbled at this point and Jessie who had been silent up till this time also came closer. She pulled him into her side, her arm encasing his thin body as his shoulders began to shake. “I started screaming as I saw a single wolf with a baby on its back running away, Dad aimed for it but I managed to push the barrel up making him miss. I got the thrashing of my life that night. I couldn’t sit for a week, but it was worth it. I was never allowed to come again after that, not that I wanted to. It took a while, but Dad eventually began to trust me enough to check the traps. I am glad too because it meant I could help this fella.”

Jessie held the boy as his sobs subsided. Henry was trying to hold his anger in, these were the people who had destroyed his family. And yet this one boy had not only saved him once but twice, his gratitude was the only thing stopping him from wanting to go rip the throats out of the group. Ignorance and fear were the driving forces that ended his family, if only they knew the wolves would only ever take a sick animal, and sometimes the young, never the strength of the herd. They would never kill without need. But the wild dogs he had seen were giving us a bad name.

Jessie's voice interrupted his thoughts, the softness not hiding the grief in her own. “Was that near here Tom?” How did Jessie know?

“Yes, Miss Jessie, by the tall tree in the middle of the forest.”

She silently picked up the tools, both animal and human watching her, wondering what she was thinking. Sighing she stood up, “Come, it’s getting dark and I need to get ready for this date.” She walked silently back into the house. The boy and the wolf looked at each other before both followed.

Jessie fixed dinner for Tom and Henry then left to dress, leaving the pair to their own devices. Tom seemed quiet after revealing his early childhood trauma and Henry was eager to help calm the boy. After eating, he plodded into the living room, jumped up on the couch and yipped in Tom’s direction. Chuckling, Tom responded, “You want to watch some TV boy?” Nuzzling the remote, he yipped eagerly hoping to distract the boy from his thoughts.

Tom settled next to him and picked up the remote, they settled on watching a rerun of M.A.S.H before they both heard the clicking of heels and the rapping of knuckles on the front door. Open-mouthed both Henry and Tom sat dumbstruck as Jessie walked down the stairs in a light yellow sundress her dark hair flowing softly twisted into waves. “Wow Miss Jessie, you look amazing” got in first before Henry followed with his eager Yip. Giggling Jessie smiled softly at them both, “Ok I won't be out late, but even so, don’t get up to any mischief”

This caused both Henry and Tom to laugh, one sounding more like a series of yips. The door opened and closed and Jessie was gone. Together the two sat, watched movies and shared some popcorn that Tom had found in the pantry. Just as the end of a Witcher episode finished they heard yelling coming from outside. “I don’t give a dam Boyd, you had no right to hit that poor man, It was an accident.” The front door opened as Jessie stormed inside, the front of her dress had a brown stain down the side of her skirt.

Next Boyd came crashing into the room his face red as he reached out to grab Jessie's arm, this caused Henry to jump into action his snarl reaching the ears of the big man before he saw the wolf racing towards him. Jumping back almost stumbling over the kitchen chair Boyd’s face grew hotter, “Keep that mutt controlled Jessie otherwise I’ll control him for you with my shot Gun.”

The air went still as Henry felt Jessies and Tom's hands on him, “That is enough Boyd Hatfield, you are no longer welcome in this home. Get. Out!” Surprise filled Boyd’s face as he not only recognised Tom but registered his marching orders. Menace replaced the look of surprise, “Listen here little girl, you better watch that attitude of yours. I’ll allow you to cool off but we are not finished talking, and if you value the life of that mutt you will do as your told.” Punctuating the statement with a nod of his head he turned and strolled out the door.

Heart pounding he turned looking up at Jessie who seemed to have lost her speech, her face pale and her hands shaking. Tom moved swiftly pulling her into his arms as she began to cry, frustrated that it wasn’t his arms holding her, Henry pushed his body against her to show he was there, but inside he was furious. That man had threatened not just himself but Jessie, but he had to focus on her right now, she was more important no matter how much he wanted to go after him.

Chapter 9

#the veterinarian and the werewolf #henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #werewolf

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sabraeal · 3 years

Note

Consider: Obi is green-red color blind

A Color by Any Other Name

Written for @aeroplaneblues for a surprise birthday gift! Many months ago she mentioned wanted to see a colorblind Obi, and I said, WELL WHAT A GOOD EXCUSE TO WRITE THIS PROMPT JOANNA GAVE ME. I hope your birthday is a good one, filled with a lot more nice surprises!

“Are you ever going to introduce me to your guard friends?” Suzu asks around a mouthful of dumpling. “Or are you embarrassed?”

To say Obi is unprepared, would be an understatement; there’s a pork bun lodged between his teeth, his gloves not only coated in pig grease but also far less effective against steam than he’d thought they’d be back when he’d just grabbed a plump little blob off the stall. He’d laughed off Suzu’s concerns about protective equipment; after all, if smiths use leather gloves, they’ve got to be just as good as an oven mitt.

They aren’t. Not to mention the roof of his mouth starting to have a real good think about peeling off and having a vacation. Maybe even with someone who doesn’t eat entire dumplings straight from the basket.

“Wha?” he manages eloquently, nearly drooling spicy meat drippings onto the street.

“I know I’m not cool like they are,” Suzu continues, warming to his new thesis. If his sudden flush of confidence is any measure, he’s spent more of time composing his arguments for this than Obi’s ever seen him work on his actual defense. “And I’m no good with a sword. Or fists. Or really any implement that isn’t a scalpel, and any opponent that isn’t already anesthetized. But I am very smart.”

There’s a thoughtful pause before Suzu adds, “Some people do enjoy that, you know.”

What Obi knows is that this kid tried this conversation on for size in front of Yuzuri, and she didn’t even bother to warn him as a courtesy. See if he buys her any more meat-on-sticks when she’s ‘left her purse in the lab’ now.

“That’s not--” he takes a hurried minute to swallow-- “not what’s happening. I didn’t...”

Even know you knew I didn’t work for the pharmacy. His teeth clamp shut around that winner, and its friend, I didn’t think you lot would want to hang out with a bunch of men without degrees. Not only would that encourage Suzu to make a scene right here, right now, but if it got back to Jirou-- well, if he thought Suzu could turn any day into a disaster, the lieutenant would make that seem like a vacation.

“I didn’t think you wanted to,” he settles on instead. Similar enough in feel, if...creatively edited. “You scholar types tend to flock together.”

“Well, sure,” Suzu murmurs, stymied, “but we’re friends too, aren’t we? If all my friends are your friends, then all your friends should be my friends.”

Only an academic could talk about arithmetic with that amount of confidence, especially the kind that involved transitive properties and letters, and all sorts of things that made Obi’s head spin.

“Well,” he hums, one boot scratching his calf. “You would know.”

Suzu whirls on him, staring down his long fox-snout of a nose. “You mean it? You’ll really...?”

“Sure. If that’s what you want.” He twitches his shoulders, more casual than he feels. “It’s fine if it’s you.”

There’s always been a lazy lilt to Suzu’s eyes, but it disappears now, all the sleepiness gone to surprise. “Me? You wouldn’t want to bring anyone else?”

“Well, definitely not Kazaha.” The glares he’d get bringing that twiggy pedant into the guardhouse might be enough to drop him dead on the spot. “And Yuzuri would be too popular.”

Suzu grimaces. “The number of admirers she’d get from a wink alone...she’d be unlivable.”

He can see it now, her ponytail bobbing with a buoyant glee, giggling through every painstaking penned line from her fan club-- “Think of all the bad poetry.”

“Honestly, that might make it worth it. At least I’ll feel better about not knowing the difference between a quartet and a quatrain.” Suzu takes a thoughtful bite of him bun. “And you couldn’t bring Shirayuki, of course.”

“Right.” Not a one of them could be trusted to keep their lips sealed; she’d hardly have to take a breath and someone would call her Obi’s lady, or ask how they met, or whether she’s still Mistress behind closed doors--

But Suzu wouldn’t know any of that. “Wait, why?”

“Well...” He has the grace to look chagrined about it, whatever it is. “You know. Her hair...?”

“Oh.” Obi shrugs. “Sure, I guess.”

“You guess?” Suzu stares. “Shirayuki has a non-zero amount of stories about being kidnapped for looking like a candied apple, and you guess there might be a fuss about bringing her ‘round to the guardhouse?”

“Well, none of you acted weird about it,” he snips, hiding his annoyance behind a bite of dumpling. “There’s no reason they will.”

“Of course no one at Lilias acted weird, Obi!” he squawks, arms flailing as he talks. “You couldn’t pay them to look at anything but their own project. But when a bunch of normal men with eyes and, uh, other working appendages see a cute girl with red hair and a soft voice, they’re gonna go crazy!”

His palm hooks around his shoulder, thumb digging into the hard knot at his collarbone. “Aw, come on. It’s not that special.”

“Not that--?” Suzu whips around, eyes round as dumplings. “Obi, she’s the only person I’ve ever seen with red hair.”

“You don’t get out much,” Obi deadpans. “No offense.”

“That’s not--” Suzu grunts, throwing up his hands-- “She’s the only person anyone’s ever seen with red hair!”

“Her dad’s is kind of red.” That observation wins him an unimpressed look, one that says you’re missing the point. “And Yuzuri had blue hair when I met her. That’s way more interesting--”

“It was dyed!” Suzu wobbles over to a wall, sitting with his head in his hands. “Shirayuki has a hair color so rare that the birth records in Clarines haven’t noted it in more than fifty years! And you think Yuzuri dying her hair with woad is more impressive.”

“Well, even her natural color is brighter than Miss’s. Not--” he waves a hand between them, quelling-- “that Miss’s hair isn’t nice enough. But I’d think that people would pay more attention to that.”

“...Brighter?” Suzu murmurs after a long moment, stilted. “Obi, could you tell me what color that sign is, right over there?”

“The one for the tea shop?” He wrinkles his nose. “Why--?”

“Just...indulge me for a moment.”

“All right.” He squints up at the moon cresting over a wolf’s head. “Blue.”

“Right, and, um, that coat over there.”

“Yellow.”

“Right.” Suzu’s voice is tight, stressed. “And what I’m wearing?”

Obi squints. This one’s a little harder, but he’s confident when he says, “Green.”

“Ah, right.” Suzu stands, a unsteady on his feet. “That would explain that, then.”

Obi blinks. “Explain what?”

“Obi,” Suzu begins, with all the gravitas of both a grim prognosis and a terrible joke. “You can’t see colors.”

It’s not the first time Obi’s played hound to his prey’s fox, but there’s something distinctly unsettling about it being Suzu that leaves him lagging behind, unsure of himself. Especially with the way he scurries through the concourse, bounding toward the mess hall with this idea caught between his teeth like chicken feathers.

“I can see colors just fine,” Obi informs him with far less confidence than he’d like. “Some of them are just hard to tell apart. Weren’t you and Yuzuri arguing yesterday about whether salmon is orange or pink?”

Suzu waves a hand at him, dismissive. “That’s different. Salmon’s both orange and pink, and what color it looks most like has to do with the composition of your eye-- and it’s pink by the way, with orange undertones--”

Between the two of them, Obi knows who he’d trust to know their colors. “Uh-huh.”

“You can’t make out red and green, which is different entirely, and--” the doors to the mess burst open beneath his hands, a noise lost in the din of a hundred scholars trying to share the same table-- “YOU GUYS WON’T BELIEVE WHAT I JUST FOUND.”

The whole of Shidan’s lab-- minus the man himself-- have taken up right by the door, bags and coats piled to save them their places on the bench. Suzu makes short work of the pile on his seat, haphazardly shoving them to the floor as he sits.

Kazaha peers at him and ventures mildly, “A new way to avoid finishing your thesis?”

“No,” Suzu hums between his grit teeth, “but I have found out--”

“I don’t think we need to do this,” Obi murmurs, handing Miss her muffler. “It’s not--”

“Obi,” he intones with far more gravitas than his name has ever strictly deserved, “can’t see colors.”

“Not at all?” Kazaha turns those sharp eyes to him, like he’s a specimen under glass. “Just black and white?”

“I can see just fine,” Obi huffs, tossing Yuzuri her coat before he slides onto the bench, knee knocking into Miss’s in a way that puts his heart through its paces. “Suzu is just making a mountain out of a molehill.”

“Is that so?” he hums with a grin. “Then what color is Shirayuki’s hair?”

He stifles a sigh. It’s best to put all this to bed now, before he’s stuck playing what’s this color for the next two years. “Red.”

“What’s the point of this?” Yuzuri yawns, already bored. Obi shoots her a grateful look, glad that at least one of them isn’t going to play Suzu’s game.

It’s too bad he’s already puffed up with unearned confidence, like an evolutionist at a botany lecture. “And what’s the color of Ryuu’s cloak?”

He knows it by heart-- how could he not, when the two most important people in this city wear matching ones-- but still Obi glances up, anticipating a trick. Ryuu stares back, confused and guileless. “Blue.”

“Great, good.” Suzu’s grin stretches from ear to ear. “Now what color is your scarf?”

Obi’s fingers knot in the fabric, the weft tickling the pads of his fingers. “Well, it’s...sort of reddish, isn’t it?”

This is the wrong answer.

“It makes so much sense,” Yuzuri murmurs in wonder. “You really don’t know how ugly Suzu’s outfits are. That’s why you still hang out with him.”

“Hey!” Suzu pouts. “That’s not very nice.”

“No, that has nothing to do with color, it’s the cut.” Anxiety spikes through him. “But wait, it is red isn’t it? My scarf?”

“No,” Miss murmurs at his side, cheeks flushes. “Obi, it’s...it’s green.”

He stares down at it, trying to imagine what that might look like. “Green.”

“It looks very nice on you!” Her small fingers wrapping in the fur at his elbow. “It’s your color, really.”

“Oh, sure,” he murmurs, faint. “I guess it matches my eyes.”

“Hey, what do you mean ‘it has nothing to do with the color?’“ Suzu’s hands fly to his hips, brows drawn tight over the long line of his nose. “My clothes are just fine.”

“They aren’t.” Obi leans in next to him, grin feeling thinner than it should. “But I hang out with you anyway, which means you know we’re really friends.”

Kazaha rubs at his chin, where his ode to Shidan’s goatee is failing to thrive. “You know what this also explains?”

Obi blinks. “What?”

“All the black.”

It’s not Kazaha that says it, oh no. That would be too merciful for a mortifying moment out of his life. Instead it’s low and feminine, and when Miss Kiki leans out from the other side of Miss, it’s like a siren emerging from the depths, teeth bared to tear a man to shreds. “What an interesting thing I’ve learned today.”

“Miss Kiki! How--?” He gulps. “Why--?”

“I came to deliver a message from Wirant,” she drawls, too pleased. “And it seems I’ve earned myself a fine tip.”

“No,” he breathes. “You can’t-- you’re not going to tell Master, are you? Or Sir?”

“Oh,” she hums, looking particularly hungry for manflesh. “I certainly will.”

“Oh, there there.” Miss pats his back, the sensation lost among the dozen layers of clothing between them. “I’m sure Kiki won’t tell them, not until you’re ready! You asked her not to.”

“I think that just means,” Obi mutters, voice muffled by his arms and the wall he’s throwing himself over, “that she’ll just enjoy telling them more.”

“Ah...” He doesn’t need to see her to know her grimace. “Yes, that’s...probably right.”

He lets out a heavy, dramatic sigh. It helps a little. So does a bit of flailing.

“They won’t make a big deal out of it,” Miss says, changing tack. “It hardly changes anything! I’m sure they’ll just forget as soon as she tells them.”

He peeps one eye over his elbow. “That’s easy for you to say, you haven’t spent the last half an hour playing What’s That Color.”

“Well,” she wheedles, “they are scholars.”

Obi groans, loud and long, which doesn’t help; but it echoes out over the rooftops, returning back to him, which does.

“How...?”

Miss hesitates, a gloved finger pressed to her lips. He sighs, already braced for the onslaught-- how didn’t you know? how did you go so long without knowing your colors? how do you find people if you can’t even tell what hair color they have--?

“How did you notice?”

Obi lifts his head, unblinking. “What?”

“How did you notice?” Miss repeats, more firmly this time. “You’ve spent your whole life this way, haven’t you? It must have taken something really special to realize there was more than what you see.”

“Uh.” It’s nice that it’s darker here, that it’s cold. He has perfect legitimate reasons to be flushed. “Well, it was Suzu really. He mentioned that--” his teeth clamp down around his words, not letting them out without a hasty edit-- “that people think your hair’s pretty special, and I said I didn’t get why...”

Miss stiffens beside him, a statue that breathes, and he hastily adds, “Not that you aren’t special, Miss. It’s just, the red...”

“Right.” The words comes out stilted, strange. “You can’t see it. You actually...haven’t ever seen it.”

A silence settles on them like a wool blanket; not one of those nice ones at the castle, or the fleecy ones Miss stockpiles like one day the North might run out of sheep, but the itchy, coarse-woven ones of his childhood. Uncomfortable and smelling faintly of animal.

“So,” he coughs, fixing his gaze out over the city. “What did Kiki want?”

“Oh...” Miss shifts, mouth pulling into a guilty grimace. “She came to tell me that the Queen Dowager has invited me to dinner. Tomorrow night.”

His brows raise. “Well, well.”

“Don’t,” she murmurs, head giving the barest shake. “It’s not like that.”

“Are you sure?” He shouldn’t press, but if he doesn’t, no one else will. “After you told Master--”

“I told him a list of reasons why I thought I would be a better ally as a friend, and not as a...” Miss loses steam, letting her words sigh into the air. “I’d like to believe this has to do with my work with Phostyrias.”

He watches her, careful. “But do you?”

“I don’t know,” she says, which is as good as any no.

Obi’s barely stepped into the Protector’s solar when Master asks, “What color is my jacket?”

His head swivels, delivering a glare so flat carpets would be jealous. Miss Kiki only hums, shoulder lifting in a disinterested shrug. “I said I was going to tell them.”

Fair enough.

“It’s blue,” he deadpans, flopping onto the cushiest divan. He’s too long for it, his boots spilling off one arm a idling over the floor. “Apparently I can see that one just fine.”

According to Miss, at least; she’d unearthed a slip of a book from the university’s library, outlining the limits of his sight. Little Ryuu had pored over it for a day before showing up at his door, flushed faced and nervous.

Garrack always told me I had nice eyes, he’d admitted, lingering at the threshold. I was hoping you could see them.

Cross as he is about the whole thing, Obi can’t regret that. He might not have Miss’s hair, or Suzu’s coat-- thankfully-- but Ryuu’s eyes would always look true to him.

“But not red.” Master’s mouth twitches, far too entertained. “Or green.”

“I do see them,” he protests. “They just...don’t look very different to me.”

Just another shade of yellow and brown, if those books are right. Which they are, since he’d always thought so. Subtly different, like the way Suzu and Yuzuri fought over salmon, or Master and Miss Kiki would dither over chartreuse. Just enough that he’d been able to eke by on keeping his mouth shut and a fondness for black.

Still, there’s nothing worse than finding out something new about yourself this late in the game. Especially when--

“What about the curtains?” Master inquires. “Can you see those?”

--Especially when it’s so endlessly entertaining to everyone else. “I can see them,” he grumbles, sinking further into the cushions. “Just because I can’t see some colors doesn’t mean I’m blind.”

“Then what about the note?”

Obi rolls his gaze to where Sir perches at his desk. “Huh?”

“To our red-haired guest.” Sir coughs, a flush working its way up his neck. “It’s just-- you wrote that.”

“Oh, His Grace told me that one.” A lifetime ago, it seemed. “‘The red-haired girl, you’ll know her when you see her, I’m sure.’“

Master winces. Obi can admit his talent doesn’t lie with impressions, especially ones of dour old men.

“Right,” Sir presses, voice oddly tight. “But you don’t see-- I mean, how could you find a girl that looks just like everyone else?”

“Ah...” He grimaces, scrubbing at the top of his head. “Well, I just looked for the girl who didn’t belong. It--” he hesitates, suddenly aware of Master’s eyes on him-- “didn’t take very long.”

Master’s frown belongs above one of those prie-dieu, to remind penitents that forgiveness isn’t absolute. “What is that supposed to--?”

“So what does she look like?” No one could say that after a decade of dedication, Miss Kiki doesn’t know how to do her job; she deflects Master’s brewing sour mood with the ease of a professional. “What does her hair look like to you?”

“Uh.” He clears his throat, tugging at his collar. “I wasn’t lying when I said I bought my scarf to match...”

There is a stillness to the room that is too much, too pitiful. Much as he hated it, Obi would much rather be a joke than a charity case.

“Huh,” Sir grunts, gaze still fixed to his neck. “Now I wonder what we all look like to you.”

“Well, I sort of wonder what you all look like to yourselves.” Obi let a sigh float wistfully through his lips. “At least I know that me and Miss still have the same eyes.”

There’s silence again, but this one buzzes, filled with words no one dares to say.

“What?” he laughs, nervous, pulling himself upright. “Don’t we?”

Sir grimaces. “Ah, Obi...”

Miss is quiet when they walk the walls home that night, the winter stillness making the silence and heavy as any drift. Her mouth is pursed, not with anything like anger, but something closer to consideration. As if there’s words back there she’s sorting through, trying to compose a thought that just won’t come.

Well, she should know: she won’t get anywhere if she doesn’t air a few of them out to look at. “Something wrong, Miss?”

She blinks, shaken out from wherever she gone away. Her mind palace, maybe. Suzu’d told him about those once, with busts and painting and curtained alcoves. What she’d do with a place like that, he couldn’t imagine, but if anyone asked, he’d put his money on hers having apothecary drawers instead, and gardens too. The kind with half crumbled walls, ivies curled around every stone. Cluttered desks piled high with books, and one of them with curtain drawn to let its owner nap the afternoon away.

“Oh,” she breathes, finally. “No, no. Nothing’s, um, wrong. I was just...thinking.”

He lifts a knowing brow. “So something is wrong.”

“That’s not what I said,” she informs him, primly. “I was going over my meeting with Haruto, and...”

Her lips snap shut around the words, distress narrowing her eyes. “And...?”

“She didn’t know about my work,” Miss huffs, arms wrapping tight around her chest. “Or, she did, but only what Zen had told her. Which...”

Was far less than the whole of it. He’d heard that part of her argument that night, try as he might not to. “So she invited you as Zen’s ally?”

“No.” The word is colder than any he’s ever heard fall from her lips. “That I wouldn’t mind-- I’m still trying to be his ally, after all, and if she saw me as an asset...” She shook her head. “No, she wanted to meet his...paramour, even if she didn’t say as much.”

Obi grimaces.

“And even that wouldn’t be so bad if...” Miss took a deep, steeling breath. “When I came in, after all the curtsies and pleasantries, she said, your hair is just as red as he said it was.” Her knuckles are white where they wrap around her elbows. “All those years, all those letters, and the only thing he thinks to tell his mother is that my hair...”

The rest is lost in a sigh, a cloud of mist swirling off the wall.

“It must really be something,” Obi deadpans, gaze following it off the edge. “Since it makes all these people forget how smart you are.”

She’s watching him; he can feel it as she sidles up to where he stands, hands unclenching from her arms and splaying on the crenellations instead. “Obi, you really can’t...?”

Miss hesitates, falls silent. He lets her; she’s put enough words in the air to sort through, and now all she needs is time. Obi’s happy to give it to her.

Especially since there’s a rabbit down there in the dark. A small one, moving slow, hind legs churning like clockwork winding up. It’s nose digs into the snow, snuffling around, searching--

“Can you really see better?” Miss asks, startling him back to the wall. “In the dark, I mean. That book said you could.”

“Well, after the past couple days, I’m a little shaky on what’s normal.” He jerks his chin over the edge. “Can you see the rabbit down there? Right by that sapling?”

She blinks, pressing in close. “The what? It’s just...dark out there.”

“Well,” he says, grin tight on his lips. “There’s your answer.”

Miss settles back on her heels, one hand already cupping her chin. “It makes sense. Without the distraction of color, your movement tracking must be much more acute...”

Obi only half-manages to stifle a laugh. “Seems like it definitely distracts everyone else.”

Miss goes quiet; almost too quiet, enough to make his teeth sit on edge. The seconds tick by, and Obi might play at patience, but it’s not in his nature. He glances down, just from the corners of his eyes, but Miss is already watching him, eyes strangely shuttered.

“Obi,” she says, so clear his name rings in his ears. “You don’t...? My hair, it’s not...” Her mouth works, quiet, before she manages, “It’s not anything to you?”

Anything special, she means. Because that’s what he said so stupidly last night, nothing special.

She’d tied it up tonight, finagling the strange looping knots that were partial to the queen’s court, but already some of it’s worn loose, slipping from its pins. “It is,” he murmurs. “I like it.”

She huffs, unimpressed. “But you can’t see it, not really.”

“Of course I can see it,” he laughs, weary. “Maybe not the color, but that’s fine. I like it because it’s yours.”

She ducks her head, and Obi might not be good at colors, but he can see her cheeks flush in the lamplight.

“Miss.” Her gaze lifts to his, no longer shuttered, just full. “Can I ask you something?”

Her breath catches. “Anything.”

“Be straight with me,” he pleads. “We do have the same eye color right?”

“Obi!” Miss‘s laughter bubbles bright with betrayal as she hops down the stairs after him. “Obi, please--”

“Let me grieve, Miss,” he grumbles, hands shoved in his pockets. “I’ve been a real champ about the rest, but let me have this.”

“Obi!” She catches him round the wrist, mouth twitching as she turns to him. “Is it really so bad that they’re gold?”

“No,” he mutters sullenly, shoulders slumped enough that with two stairs between them, they’re nearly the same height. “It’s just...”

Her eyes flutter wide with curiosity. “Just...?”

“It’s fine enough that they’re unique.” He spits the word with more venom than it deserves. “I just I wanted this one thing in common.”

“In common?” Miss blinks. “You mean, me and...?”

Obi would lay down his life for his mistress, but even she can’t ask him to do this, to lay down his pride for her to walk on.

“Oh!” She flusters, limbs fluttering in the air between them. He’s half-tempted to turn away again, but she grabs his face and holds him steady, her cold, slender fingers caught behind his jaw. “Just-- just one moment...”

“Miss?” he wheezes. This is entirely too close, too much--

“Yes!” He breath flutters over his lips, her own parting in a celebration of teeth. “That’s it. I see it. There’s a little, right there.”

He blinks. “A little what, Miss?”

Her teeth flash around the word, “Green.”

It’s cruel to throw a starving dog a bone, but he snaps it up anyway, heart nearly clogging up his throat with hope. “D’you mean it? You’re not just saying that to make me feel better.”

“Really,” she promises, her nod serious and officious as any she might give Little Ryuu. “There’s a thread, right around the middle. Green. Just like mine.”

“Oh.” His own hands raise, leather muting the feel of her skin, but-- Master always told him about the red thread that bound him and Miss together, that drew them toward their fated meeting, but this-- Obi will take this too. “Thank you, Miss.”

She smiles, eyes shining bright in the lamplight. “No, Obi, it’s my pleasure.”

Not much different between green and red to him, anyway.

#obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #my fic #ans #this request has been sitting in my box since 2017 #when i FIRST started joking about this au #and i always meant to get around to it #but obviously my last few years have been filled with some things that have perhaps kept me #from being able to do all the things I meant to 🤣#but once Anne brought this up again #I knew i had a very good excuse to finally get this thing out in the world #AND HERE IT IS #it takes place some amount of time after the current arc

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wildernessuntothemselves · 3 years

Text

Prey for You | Part 5

Genre: Smut, angst.

Word Count: 5.8k

Summary: After finding out what Chan really thinks of you, you’re determined to never let him in again. But he finds a way to sneak back into your bed.

Warnings: super unhealthy relationship, dom!reader, sub!chan, milking but not the prostate way, use of a fleshlight, cumplay?, degradation, enemies to lovers, wolf!hybrid chan, fox!hybrid reader

A/N: this is a major risk cuz i don’t even know if I’m done editing this lol so if its a mess let me know and I might fix it lmao. the gif is for the bath scene btw uwu

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 Part 5, Part 6

You wish you could immediately move out and go someplace else, away from Chan and the constant reminder that you’re not good enough for him. But if it was that easy, you wouldn’t have had to move in with him in the first place. Now you were forced to live with the man who everyday reminded you of what you could’ve had if only you weren’t what you were.

For his part, Chan tries to apologize to you, but what use is his apology now that you have confirmation of what he really thinks of you? That doesn’t mean he has let up, though.

“Hey, baby.” The man in question greets you as soon as you come back from a lecture. “I wanna talk to you.”

You can’t keep going through this. Every time he tries to justify himself--to explain why it’s a good idea that people don’t know about you-- it just cements in your mind that he’ll never see you as someone worthy of him, of anyone. So you silently move past him, walking towards your room and hoping that the severe look you have on your face will discourage him this time. But it doesn’t, and he follows you into your room.

“I have something to tell you.” He announces and you turn to face him with an agitated sigh. “Then say it and go.”

You hope this will be quick, at least, but your hope is dashed when he crosses the distance between you and wraps his arms around you, pulling you towards his body. You open your mouth to curse him out, but the smell of him floods your nose with a spicier tinge to it than usual.

“Oh.” Your mouth gapes in realization. “You’re going into heat.”

He nods, leaning down to nuzzle your nose with his before going further, trying to catch your lips in a kiss, but his lips barely brush yours before you lean back, your hands pushing your body as far away from his as the embrace can allow. “So? That doesn’t change anything.”

“The hell it does.” He grimaces, not pleased with your reaction. “I need you.”

“No, you need to get laid. You could get that from any of your groupies.”

He scoffs in disbelief, “So you want me to go fuck other women?”

You realize how far you’ve let things go when just hearing him say it out loud makes you want to fold in on yourself to protect your heart from getting torn to pieces. You shouldn’t have let things get this far. There is a reason you were so cautious before and you’ve gone and fucked yourself over at the first sign of someone being nice to you, of someone showing you the slightest hint of trust and affection. And you thought you were strong.

“I don’t care what you do.” You lie through your teeth, wishing to at least keep the knowledge of your shameful demise from him. “We’re not together.”

That angers him the most. “Yes, we are!”

“Really? Because no one else seems to know.” You seethe, and he finally pulls away from you, infuriated at you as if you’re the one being ridiculous. “You’ve seen how my friends reacted. How do you think everyone else is gonna react?”

“That shouldn’t matter!”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t have anything to lose.”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe how full of yourself you are! You think I would be so damn honored if people knew I am with the pride of predators that you are?”

“Stop fucking saying that! Do I need to be a mindless brute to earn your respect as a predator?”

“No, but this--” You gesture vaguely towards him with distaste, “certainly isn’t earning my respect.”

He takes a deep breath, face red and aggression rolling off of him in waves. You wonder if he’ll attack you like last time. But he just grits through his teeth, looking away, “What am supposed to do with my heat?”

“I don’t care.” You mutter, and his eyes snap to you, a little wild with fury.

You hold your breath as he starts walking towards you, a muscle ticking in his jaw, and you imagine what it would be like if he were to snap it around your neck. Would it hurt more or less than you’re hurting right now? But instead of tearing your throat out, he walks past you and out of the room.

_____________________________

Chan has been gone for an hour now. And your mind was running wild with images of him fucking someone else. You feel stupid. You’re the one who sent him away, but what were you supposed to do? Give yourself completely to him until he has exhausted his need of you and throws you away? He’s made his stance pretty clear, and you’d be pathetic to let him use you like that.

You're busy beating yourself when you hear the front door open, and you almost jump out of your skin. You whip around towards it, your treacherous affection hoping to see that Chan has changed his mind and came back to you, but instead your all too familiar bitterness takes hold of you as you see him stumbling into the apartment with a girl, their lips locked and their hands all over each other.

You suppose there must be some truth to the phrase “if looks could kill” because the girl--a bunny hybrid--pulls away from Chan and her big eyes flit around the living room anxiously until they land on you. She squeaks when your eyes meek and she fearfully latches onto Chan’s arm. “You d-didn’t tell me you had a-a roommate.”

Chan on the other hand is straight up grinning as he sees the murderous look on your face. He bends down to whisper something in the girl's ear that you can’t hear, but judging by the motion of his head and the direction she looks, you know he’s telling her where his bedroom is and to go wait for him there. She gives you one last nervous look before she scurries down the hall and disappears. When she’s gone, he struts over to you like a peacock showing off his feathers.

“You look upset, baby girl.”

“You’re a fucking bastard.” You spit out. He smiles wider and leans over you, pushing his hands against the back of the couch and caging you between them. "Last chance, fox. You gonna be a good girl for me or would you rather I go in there and fuck that pretty thing? I know she’ll be more than happy to do anything to please me."

You push him away roughly. He staggers for a second but quickly holds himself upright, grabbing your hands in a painful grip. “That wasn’t so nice, fox.” He grunts, pulling one of your hands towards his crotch and making you feel how hard he is. “But I’ll give you one more chance.”

“You’re such a fucking slut.” You scowl, roughly palming his dick through his pants. He seems to love it though, biting his lip as a groan slips out of him. Vexed, you pull your hand back and get up, leaning up to hiss at him, "Get her the fuck out and come to my room."

His triumphant smile is met with a disgusted sneer from you. "You think you've won?"

“Kinda, yeah.” He laughs cockily.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

_______________________

He quickly loses his smile when he steps into your room and sees the items you have on the bed--a fleshlight and a bottle of lube. He gives you a disheartened look. “No, no, this isn’t what we agreed on.”

“We didn’t agree on anything.”

"I'm going into heat. I need to fuck you not some toy!"

“You can leave if you want. See if the little bunny isn’t too hurt to let you fuck her.” You challenge, confident that he will take anything you give him at this point.

Groaning in defeat, he slumps down on the bed, and you smile knowingly, ordering him to undress for you. He obliges, although not without a sour pout. When he's naked, you gesture for him to come sit with you on the bed, back pressed against your chest as he settles between your legs.

He is hard despite his protests, and you open the bottle of lube and squirt some of it on his cock, putting it down then wrapping your hand around him and pumping his cock slowly, just spreading the lube all over it.

Grabbing the fleshlight with your other hand, you bring it to his lips. "Use your mouth, puppy."

He groans, reluctantly peeking his tongue out to lap at the toy. You tsk in disapproval. “You’ll never get it wet this way. You’re really big, puppy.” You drawl, dragging your fist tightly up his long member and extracting a deep groan out of him. “Wouldn’t want your cock to get hurt when I fuck you with it dry now, would you?”

He gives you a dissatisfied grunt but he pushes his tongue out more, starting to lick the opening of the fleshlight more deliberately now. “Good boy. Get it all wet so I can use it to milk every last drop of cum from your balls. Maybe then you’ll behave.”

His hips buck up into your hands and he starts pushing his tongue in and out of the toy, the wet sounds of his tongue working the fleshlight filling up the room.

"You're so pathetic. Eating out this silicone pussy so I can fuck you with it instead of sticking your dick in some bitch's warm pussy. All because I want you to, right?" You whisper in his ear before pressing soft kisses down his neck. His breath hitches and he pushes his hips up into your hands again, needing more than the gentle touches you were giving him.

"You'll do anything if I ask you to." You state, pulling the toy away from his mouth, breaking off the tiny translucent strings of saliva that connect them. Letting go of his dick, you grab the lube again and order him to put two fingers out for you. You squeeze some of the lube onto them then bring the fleshlight to his hand. “Finger your pussy open, baby.”

“You’re driving me crazy.” He groans as pushes his fingers into the toy, and you laugh. “Aw, is this frustrating for you, puppy?”

“Yes.” He hisses, his fingers fucking in and out of the toy aggressively.

“Good.”

When you’re satisfied with how slick the toy has gotten, and how needy he’s become, you order him to stop and line it over his cock. “Ready, puppy?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be for a fucking toy.” He swears and you smile, plunging the fleshlight over his cock. You don’t need his enthusiasm to do what you want as with a few jerks of the toy, he’s already melting back onto you and moaning out his pleasure, his impending heat already working him to the edge of insanity.

“See? You’re nothing but a horny dog trying to get off.” You use your free hand to massage his lower belly just above the base of his member, stoking the fire building there. “I should lock your dirty cock in a cage during this heat so you won’t go around humping and fucking whoever you can get your hands on. Only let you out when I want to use you.”

“Then use me, please. Take what you need from me.” He moans even louder, his back arching and his hips fucking up into the toy. “Sit on my face and make me eat you out until I can't breathe or sit on my cock and ride me until you've had your fill.” "And give you the satisfaction of giving me pleasure? No, you don't even deserve that. You'll just sit here and take everything like the selfish dog you are." You slide your hand up his body, brushing your fingers over his nipple. He instantly jerks and tries to close his legs but a harsh growl in his ear is all that's needed for him to swing his legs back open.

“See? You’re already gonna cum, aren’t you?” You mock, reaching your hand out to grab the small glass cup you left at the bedside table and placing it under his cock.

“What are you doing?” Chan sputters, confused and embarrassed.

“Wanna see how much cum you have for me, puppy. Show me how bad you need me.” You coax, taking the fleshlight off and using your hand instead, stroking his cock from bottom to top and pointing the leaking tip of it inside the cup.

“Ahh---that’s filthy.” Chan protests but his eyes are glued to the scene and his moans get higher in pitch as you both prepare for him to orgasm. Your hands continue their rhythmic pumping as spurts of white cum start shooting into the glass, almost as if you’re manually squeezing them out of his dick.

“That’s a lot of cum. Such a horny dog.” You murmur, taking in the amount of cum collecting in the glass, and he shudders, transfixed by the way your hand is milking every last drop from him. “And you’re wasting all of it. What a useless pup. Should’ve never been a wolf.”

He growls and lays his head back on your shoulder to look up at you.You think he’s going to argue with you about what you just said but instead he stares at you with his puppy eyes and breathlessly asks for a kiss.

You could refuse him, of course. He doesn’t deserve it. But you want it too, his plump, red lips too enticing to pass up, and so you close the distance between you and capture them in a lazy kiss. But you barely start before he’s squirming and whining against you.

“I suppose you still have more to give me.” You murmur against his lips and start moving your hand over his dick again--the wet sounds from your lips against his and your hands over his dick soon filling up the room.

“Such a big boy.” You marvel as you pull away from his slick lips to gaze at his dick, his breath stuttering when you swipe your palm over the leaking head. “But you won’t even get to use it because you’re a dumb, selfish pup.”

He blinks tiredly at you, apologetically, but you’ll have none of it.

“Ready to fuck your toy again?” You ask haughtily, and he sighs, nodding defeatedly.

“There you go.” You put the toy back on him.

You’re surprised by how vocal he’s being. He’s the loudest you’ve ever heard him. You guess the heat was getting to him as he doesn’t even try to hold back, his moans lusty and shameless. He’s so consumed by the pleasure taking over his body like he’d die without it, and honestly it’s affecting you more than you’d like to admit, your panties sticking to your heat uncomfortably.

"You sound like a whore getting fucked.” You scoff, pumping his dick faster with the fleshlight. "Are you that desperate?"

“Hmm--yes! Please...fuck me--” He cries, easily giving in as his hips jolt up. “Need your hot---ahh--wet pussy around my cock. You can milk me all you want then. I’ll be all yours. My cum is all yours.”

“But I don't need to do that when you’re already being such an easy slut for me.” You move your hand up to his chest again, rubbing and teasing his nipples.

"But you want me--" He gasps as you pinch his nipple in retaliation. "Fuck me, please. Need your pussy--oh god.”

“You don’t need it, dumb puppy. You’re cumming fine enough in this toy.” You put your lips to his neck, sucking on the sensitive spot under his ear then laving over it with your tongue.

“But I want more.. And I know you want---ahhh, fuck--fuck!" He cries out, looking down in time to watch himself empty into the cup again. And like last time, you make sure to catch every last drop.

“Hah--please.” He pants, leaning back to look up at you, his eyes focusing on your lips. “Kiss...”

You sigh, kissing him. He doesn’t have to be instructed in this, his lips opening automatically and his tongue pushing needily into your mouth. As his panting moans pick up again, you pull away.

“Please fuck me.” He draws the request out, pleading.

“No.”

He whimpers at your definite tone and huffs. “Then let me see you at least.”

“See me?” You quirk an eyebrow at him and he nods earnestly. "Wanna see you."

You move out from behind him and settle between his open legs. “Here I am.”

But his gaze isn’t on your face, it’s glued to your hard nipples poking through your tank top in arousal.

“Ah, you wanna see my tits, puppy? Will that help you cum more for me?” You pull your tank top over your breasts, exposing them. He whines at once, struggling to stay in his spot, his tongue swiping over his lips hungrily.

"What is it? Wanna put suck on them, puppy?" You tease, sitting up and leaning your chest over his face, your breasts just out of reach of his mouth.

“Yes! Please, can I?” He begs, and just his breath brushing against your nipples is enough to have you rubbing your legs together. You don’t even want to imagine how fast you’d cum if he put his hands on you.

Tangling your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, you push his face into your chest. “Go ahead. You better make it worth my while.”

His mouth immediately latches onto one of your nipples, lathering it with saliva and sucking on it eagerly.

"Fuck, that's a good boy." You hiss, grabbing the fleshlight and pulling it over his cock, not wanting to get distracted. But the faster you work him, the more eagerly he kisses and sucks at your tits, his tongue hungrily licking all over your chest and his teeth insistently nibbling at the skin.

It's so good the friction you’re getting from rubbing your legs together is enough to make your orgasm build up. You're both impressed and mortified that you can feel yourself getting close just from jerking him off and having him suck on your tits. But you can't dwell on it too much, too busy trying to get him and yourself off.

You get what you want when he flicks your nipple with his tongue then wraps his lips around your entire areola and sucks harshly, ripping the orgasm from your body. Gasping loudly, your movement over his cock stops and your head drops down. But Chan quickly reaches out and grabs your jaw, pulling your head against his so he can see your face as you cum, the both of you wide-eyed and breathing heavily as the orgasm shakes your body.

"Fuck." Chan grunt, his hips bucking up into the stationary fleshlight as moans flow through his spit-slick lips. You can tell he’s almost there and you pull the fleshlight away and reach for the cup but it's too late, his seed shooting out and landing on your belly, marking you with it and trailing down slowly towards your pussy.

"Shit, sorry." He groans apologetically but he’s too weak to do anything about it. Exhausted from the three back to back orgasms, he falls back to the bed, boneless.

You sigh, setting the cup down and getting up to grab some tissues to clean yourself up. When you walk back to the bed, you find Chan struggling to keep his eyes open.

“No, no, get up. Come on, you need to wash off.” You tug on his arm, but his body is too heavy to budge.

“I’m too tired.” He whines like a puppy trying to get out of a bath.

“You won't have to do anything. You just sit in the tub and I’ll clean you up.” You try to pull at his arm again but he just buries his face in the pillows and ignores you. You sigh, running your hand over his skin patiently. “Come one, don’t you want a nice, warm bath? Wouldn’t it feel good after all this effort? It’ll loosen your muscles right up.”

He lifts his head up, regarding you, and you brush the hair out of his face softly. “Come on, puppy. I’m tired too.”

He finally complies, getting up and letting you tug him towards the bathroom. You don’t give him a real bath, you just make him sit in the tub while you scrub and clean his body, letting the warm water stream over him and wash the soap and tension away.

By the time you’re done, he was starting to doze off again. He looked really cute like that, his eyes almost all the way closed and his lips in a slight pout as he tries to keep his head up.

You pat his cheek gently, drawing his attention towards you. “Get up, pup. We’re done.”

He nods groggily and slowly stands up. You dry him off with a towel then lead him to your bed, telling him to wait a minute while you go grab something for him to wear. You know he likes sleeping in only his boxers so you just grab that and come back, handing it to him to put on while you go grab a towel for yourself.

“I’m gonna go take a shower. I want you back in your room when I’m back.”

Your words jolt him awake, his eyes wide and alert suddenly. “What? But I thought...” He trails off, looking at you as if asking for you to help finish his sentence. Which is just ridiculous, you don’t, of course. You stare at him with a blank face until he continues in a small voice, "I was hoping I could stay."

“What gave you that impression? You thought you could manipulate me into fucking you and then everything will be fine and dandy?”

“No. I just really miss you.” He states helplessly, and tears spring up into your eyes at that.

I miss you. You’re special. These are all meaningless words that just serve to put another stab in your heart and remind you of what you’ll never actually have from him.

“I don’t have the energy for this right now.” You say weakly, turning your back around and heading for the door quickly. “Just leave.”

As soon as you get into the shower, you start to sob. You feel like shit. You've gone through so much abuse and ridicule before but this has to be the worst you’ve ever felt about yourself, for yourself. You have so easily given into him. He’s got you where he wants you again, and he didn't even have to compromise anything to get it. You just walked right into it like an idiot, and now you fear that you feel too much for him to get out of this intact.

You stay a long time in the shower, waiting for your tears to dry up, but they never do. All you can manage is to get them to stop streaming down your face like the water does, holding them in your eyes and hoping the long shower allowed enough time for Chan’s scent to disperse from your room.

But when you walk back into your room, towel wrapped snugly around your body, you find Chan himself still in there, sitting on top of your newly made bed. And just like that, the tears fight to be shed again.

“I changed the sheets.” He pipes up, looking at you for approval.

“Oh, you changed the sheets? I guess I have to let you stay now.” Your retort is weak and hoarse. “Baby…” He stands up and walks over to you, reaching a hand out to tug at your own gently, but you quickly snatch it back and take a step away from him,

”Don’t.” Your voice cracks and you turn away in a panic, not wanting him to see you shed any tears for him. But it's useless as he easily turns you back towards him and wraps you in his strong arms. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks like he genuinely cares.

"You're what's wrong!" You sob, trying and failing to to get out of his embrace.

“Don’t say that.” He pleads, wiping your tears and kissing each of your cheeks despite your struggles. “Please, don’t cry.”

“How can I not when I’ve fallen in love with you.” You scream the words at him, hoping that the sheer heartache your voice contains will cast him away from you. And for a moment it seems to work as he staggers at your confession, his face a look of pure shock. This is it. He'll finally take pity on you and stop messing with you. Or at the very least he'll realize that this game isn't fun anymore and he'll back off.

“Just leave me be, please.” You plead, trying once again to pull away from his now loose embrace, but as soon as you move, he snaps out of it, his grip tightening around you even more. Pushing his forehead against yours, he breathes out, “I love you too.”

Before you can think about it, you raise your hands to scratch at him, anything to defend yourself from the continuous torment he’s subjecting you to. You only manage a weak swipe at his cheek before he has both your wrists in his grip and pinned to your back.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He curses, the tiniest bit of blood seeping out of the fresh wound in the middle of his cheek.

“Stop playing with me!”

"I'm not playing! I love you." He shouts back at you, and his words hurt like a dozen pellets piercing your skin. Because either he’s sick enough to lie about this, to continue playing with you despite how precarious your position has become, or he really does love you but his disgust at you is so great that it doesn’t matter.

"How can you say that when you’re ashamed of being with me? How can that be love?"

"You're one to talk! I'm always the one trying not to lose you and you're always the one pushing me away. What does it matter whether people know about us or not when you’re fucking crying at the mere fact that you fell in love with me?"

“I'm crying because the man I fell in love with is so ashamed of loving me that he won't even defend me in front of his friends!"

"And if I do? If I tell everyone that I love you and take all the damage and then you inevitably leave me?" He accuses, so sure of his words like he knows it will happen. All the fight leaves your body at that. He’ll never trust you, will he?

"Why are you assuming the worst of me?" You snivel weakly.

"No, you can’t pull that shit!” He rages, “You don’t have the right to treat me like shit and then cry about the fact that I don’t trust you! I have every right to be scared that in a couple of months you'll look at me and remember how much of an impotent predator you think I am and drop me."

“Then why do you keep me around?” You ask in a small voice, scared of the answer.

“I… I don’t know.”

You laugh bitterly, but Chan stays silent, rooted to his spot and waiting for you to do or say something. You can’t handle this anymore, not now at least. Every time the two of you talk, you hate yourself more. You need to get away from him or you’re afraid you’ll collapse into a void of self-loathing you’ll never be able to pull yourself out from.

Sighing wearily, you slowly shuffle to your closet. You drop your towel and put on some underwear before you start pulling on a pair of pants and a shirt.

“What are you doing?” Chan fumes as he realises what you’re doing. “Are you going out?!”

You stay silent as you pick out some shoes and put them on.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You can’t go out right now. We’re talking!”

You ignore him once again, walking towards the door. He tries to intercept you, face red, “You’re not leaving!”

“Watch me.” You say coldly, going around him and walking out the door.

___________

You didn’t have a place in mind when you went out. You just needed to breathe, to get some fresh air. But you soon find that too sobering, the fresh wounds hurting too much for you to feel them right now. So you decided you’ll do the opposite, stop feeling. And how do you do that? Everyone’s favorite poison. And so you head to the nearest bar you can find.

You’re barely finished with your first glass when you hear a deep voice digging its way through your fuzzy hearing. “Hey! You’re that fox from Chan’s place, right?”

Your heart stops at the sound of his name, and you stare at the empty glass in your hand, determined to ignore the intruder until he goes away. But he just plops down into the seat across from you, exclaiming ever louder. “It is you!”

You stay silent, and he carries on, thinking you don’t recognize him. “I’m Felix by the way if you don’t remember.”

You still don’t give him any response, but he doesn’t give up. "I'm sorry, I didn't really get your name last time..." He trails off, looking at you expectantly. Your gaze shifts to him and he falters when he sees the dead look in your eyes.

After some pause, he drops the cheery look from his face, and says somberly, "Look, I know you probably hate us all because of what happened, and you have every right to, but I just want to apologize for what my friends said. They're really good people but they can be a lot misguided."

You snort mockingly at that, but he seems encouraged that he managed to get any form of response from you, and he continues on. “But you probably don’t want to hear that right now. Anyway, I just really wanted to apologize. I know how it feels to be distrusted because of what you are.”

That gets your attention, and you look at him closely, realizing he is a cat hybrid. They get the same lot as fox hybrids, albeit less severe if the fact that he’s friends with Chan and his pack is anything to go by.

“But you’re friends with them.” You comment suspiciously.

“Well, it’s because Chan took me under his wing. When he trusted me, the others did too. I kind of owe him a lot.”

“Ah, yes, the Perfect Chan agenda.”

“He’s definitely not perfect." He clarifies quickly, and you quirk an eyebrow at that. "Don't get me wrong, I love him like a brother but he can be really stubborn sometimes. He can never let himself be wrong about anything ever or else he'll start spiraling."

“No offense--umm, Felix, was it?” You ask and he nods eagerly, happy that you're talking. “If I wanted to chat about Chan I would've talked to one of his groupies.”

His face blooms red and he sputters sheepishly, “You're right! I just wanted to apologize.”

“Apology accepted.” You say dismissively, waving him away, but he stays, and you give him an exasperated look.

He breaks eye contact, his gaze dropping to his hands.Fiddling with the cup in his hands, he mumbles quietly, “Can I hang out with you for a bit?”

“Now why would I say yes to that?”

He thinks for a while, a pout on his face as he concentrates on finding an answer that will satisfy you. You can see the exact moment an idea pops into his head as his face lights up with a mischievous smile. “Because it will piss off Chan?”

“A kitty after my own heart.” You reach out to pet his head, chuckling at the blush on his pretty face intensifies at that

____________________________________

Felix is something else, you’ll give him that. He’s sweet and cute and he radiates so much warmth and happiness. He’s different from the usual cat hybrids who are cold and aloof even if secretly affectionate. You had wondered at the beginning how a cat hybrid can be so close to Chan and his pack, but it took a whole five minutes of being in his company for you to see it. Simply, Felix exuded a pure, happy energy that was infectious to everyone around him. Even you, down in the dumps and heartbroken, were starting to feel a little better in his presence.

Or maybe that was the inordinate amount of alcohol you have managed to consume throughout the time you spent together. And you guess it was quite some time because as soon as you stumble through the door to Chan’s apartment, the wolf is on you like a dog with a bone.

“Where were you? I was worried sick!”

“Now that’s a funny joke.” You slur, laughing stupidly.

“Are you drunk?” He bellows, sniffing you out. Then he suddenly freezes, a low growl rumbling out of him as he grabs you roughly, glaring at you with wild eyes. "Why do you smell like Felix?"

"I met up with him." You shrug, maddeningly jubilant to the livid wolf.

“What?”

“I. met. up. with. him” You repeat slowly.

"You went out drinking with Felix?" You grits carefully, and you swear you can almost see his eyes grow dark and menacing. But you’re too blissfully drunk to heed the warning storming inside their depths.

"Sure did." You reply nonchalantly.

"I told you…” He says slowly, lips curling around the words and infusing them with a cold fury. “to stay away from my friends."

"We were just talking." You insist stubbornly, needing him to see for once that you’re not the twisted monster he thinks you are. “He said he’d like to be friends.”

Chan’s grip tightens even more around your arms, so much so that it pierces through the foggy numbness of your intoxication. The pain brings about a sense of sobriety, and your breath stills as you become aware of much danger you were in right now.

But Chan wasn’t going to hurt you. Not physically at least.

You feel the blood return to your arms as he lets you go, a look of revulsion and contempt vilifying his face more than anger or violence ever could.

“Stay away from him.” He commands roughly, “I actually care about him.”

Any numbness you had gotten from the alcohol suddenly leaves your body and you crash, feeling all the pain all at once.

I actually care about him. Unlike you. And you’ll sully him if you get close.

“This--” You gesture between the both of you, face completely devoid of emotion. "is over."

________________________

A/N: you guys still want them together? because I think the next chapter will be the last. i mean it won’t matter anyway cuz I’m pretty settled on the ending lol but I’d still like to know

#chan smut #bangchan smut #chan angst #bangchan angst #stray kids smut #stray kids angst

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mostly-mundane-atla · 3 years

Text

Hey, it's that bit of writing I started working on 800 followers ago! I genuinely appreciate everyone being so patient on this and also just being so respectful with talking culture in general. I'm still getting used to it. Hang tight on that glossary, I'll post it asap

Edit: here's the glossary

~-~-~

It was a challenge to live on the Tundra, but never as much as when the Ikunmiut claimed the Southern Water Tribe as their territory and demanded tribute from the locals.

The whaling captain of one village assigned his own son, Aasrivak, to bring food to the soldiers, as a show of good faith. Aasrivak's younger sister, Tulugak, insisted on going along.

"Tulugak, my own daughter," the captain pleaded, "your mother and grandmother need your help at home."

"But Papa," she insisted, "how can I stitch a straight line or shoo birds from the drying rack if I don't know if brother is safe?"

Knowing he could not deter his daughter, the captain instead turned to his son and said, "Keep her behind you."

"Kangiqsirunga," Aasrivak answered, nodding and bringing Tulugak in the back of the sled with him, between his arms so she wouldn't fall. "I will, Papa."

"Now hurry," their father said. "The only thing worse than an Ikunmiu is an angry Ikunmiu."

Aasrivak nodded and cracked his whip, signaling the musk-dogs to run, and they were off.

The air they rushed through bit at her face with stinging cold, but Tulugak did not regret her decision. Her brother was a shining example of what a young Water Tribe man ought to be. Generous and kind, serious when it was required, but good-natured and gentle with his words. When she was old enough to eat solid food, he shared his with her. When he learned to carve, he made her a doll. When she hurt her foot helping him check traps, he carried her home on his back like a mother with a baby. When loose teeth made it hurt to chew anything, he brought her broth and soft berries that she could crush between her tongue and the roof of her mouth, rather than between her jaws. She'd often teased him for his propriety and his need for his tools to be just so, but she loved him dearly and couldn't bear if something happened and she couldn't be there to protect him.

When they arrived at the iglu near the ship with the Ikunmiut banner, Aasrivak began to unload the sled.

"Utaqqinga," he told his sister.

"But--"

"I told Papa I'd keep you behind me," he said, stacking the crates of goods and lifting them up. "Stay here."

"Itsingitchunga," she said, crossing her arms defiantly, as her only argument.

Aasrivak chuckled. "If you don't fear them, little sister," he said, "then you are a fool and shouldn't have come with me to begin with."

Hating to feel so useless, Tulugak went about checking the musk-dogs' teeth for rot, their paws for wound and splinters, and their horns for cracks. She petted them and scratched behind their ears for being so good and patient, and wondered how they did it. The smell was all wrong, even for her human nose, and they must have been able to sense that Aasrivak was in danger among the invaders.

Tulugak jolted at the sound of someone crashing to the floor. The possibility that it wasn't her brother would not occur to her, and she was already close enough to touch the banner by the time she realized she left the sled. The taste of blood poured into her mouth, as she had bitten down hard on her tongue. She was sure if the Ikunmiu who did it could her her call him a "gnashing wolf conceived of two pups of the same litter" as she wanted to, his fingers would be around her throat in the time it took to blink.

It wasn't Aasrivak collapsed on the floor, he stood and shielded her with his arm the moment she entered, but it wasn't an Ikunmii soldier either. The figure there had her hand at her face, where she must have been struck. And in spite of the red smudged on her lips, the lampblack drawn about her eyes, the scant garment she was wrapped in, she had an air of ancient power and dignity. More notable and haunting than that, she seemed to be a Water Tribe girl. A young woman, close in age to Tulugak herself. Her skin was like the browned fossil ivory, her eyes black and shining as baleen beads, and her unbraided hair as thick and dark as the winter's night.

How dare anyone strike her? Tulugak thought.

Her focus was only taken off of the young lady at the sound of an unfamiliar voice cooing, "Oh, this one's almost pretty as ours."

Aasrivak pushed her further behind him.

"She's--" he started, trying to think of something, "she's to be married, sir."

"What a shame!" This voice was a different one still, and refusing to look at them, Tulugak couldn't put a face to it. "Kept in the ice and snow, carving fish and sewing skins and breeding like a dog. Wouldn't you rather come home with me, dear?"

"Enough!" snapped another. "It's bad enough we have one. You, boy," Aasrivak straightened at this address. "See to it your father doesn't forget tobacco next time."

"Kangiq--" the word stopped as if it had barbs in his throat. Aasrivak and his sister both heard what the Ikunmiut did to people who didn't speak properly. "I understand, sir." He bowed his head deeply, and pushed Tulugak out before turning to follow her, but she could still feel those baleen colored eyes on them, begging for help and protection.

Aasrivak nudged Tulugak onto the sled without a word. His gloved hands gripped the handles with almost enough force to break them and then they began to shake. Without warning, he stomped down on the brake and Tulugak hit her belly on the bar.

"You shouldn't have left the sled," he told her, trying to keep his voice from shaking as his hands were.

"I thought they struck you down," she explained. "I thought you were hurt, I--"

"If they struck me down I could have gotten up, but you-- they could have taken you away!" His hands could have bruised her arms with how tightly he held them. "Ilitchuģipich? If I was hurt I could have recovered, but if they took you away from us, Tulugak, there are things they could do to you that we could never undo."

Aasrivak so rarely cried, and seeing the tears well up in his eyes was all the proof Tulugak needed that he truly believed the worst could have happened.

"And niviaķsiaķ? What of their captive?" she asked once she found her voice again, though niviaķsiallautaķ was the word that danced in her mind. "We can't leave her there if she can face such things too."

"She's not one of ours," he answered cautiously.

"It shouldn't matter what village she's from."

"No, that's not what I mean. Those men, they told me that they found a fox pelt the night she appeared. That she wouldn't leave without it and gave a great cry when they held it over flame. They have her cooking and making their tea now, as she had brought meat with her."

"She wouldn't leave her pelt?" she asked. "You mean she's--"

"Kayuķtuķ, it would seem."

Of course she was a fox; one of those foxes that take off their skins to reveal a beautiful woman underneath. The ones that look after babies that couldn't be fed and keep house for hunters. She couldn't have been a person, she was too -- enchanting? -- otherworldly. And of course the Ikunmiut took her. They took everything that didn't belong to them

"So she is among strangers in a world that is not her own," Tulugak stated, carefully feeling the words come out of her mouth. They felt strange, even though they rang true. "Aasrivak, we can't leave her to them! She ought to have her skin and be far away."

"We need to be far away from them too."

"Is her soul not made the same as ours? Is her current form not proof of that?"

Aasrivak thought to himself for a moment before he spoke up again. "If I agree to help her with you, little sister, you must promise me you will not put yourself in harm's way again. Can you promise me that?"

Tulugak stretched her eyebrows up as high ad they would go, nodding solemnly.

He threw his arms around her and inhaled as if to breath her fully into his lungs. She returned the gesture, holding her brother so tight nothing could take him from her.

"We'll figure it out when you help me mend the traps and nets," he said.

She nodded again, knowing he wouldn't see but would still understand. They got back on the sled and made their way home.

Aasrivak told Papa that he kept his sister behind him but didn't mention the soldiers' spirit captive. As agreed upon, the brother and sister came up with a few ideas as she helped him mend his net outside. Mama and Aaka were inside, spinning the greyish brown musk-dog wool with spindles on waterbending-powered wheels, and Papa was away, helping some returning hunters butcher their catch of seal and taking what they didn't need to the widows and elders.

They had for their supper the mikigaq that had simmered with fireweed and sourdock. No rice, Mama and Aaka decided. Mama realized that with the occupation, there was no way to be sure when more would be imported, and Aaka was proud that such a woman married her son. Cartilage had been cut into tiny pieces and added near the end in its place.

As she lay on her ķaatchiaķ that night, Tulugak found herself thinking of her mother's sister. She had three husbands and enjoyed that very much. The three of them jumped to bring her water when she suggested she was thirsty, carved beautiful beads for her to wear, and every night each would kiss the calloused thumb and finger in which she held her needle. What a cruel mockery of that the fox girl's situation seemed to her. She remembered hearing that Ikunmii women weren't allowed more than one husband, and that only some of the men could take more than one wife. No wonder they couldn't share a girl between them without striking her, couldn't play the husbands as they expected her to play the wife. It's all they can do, she thought before drifting off to sleep, steal and mock.

#atla #avatar the last airbender #eskimo on main #water tribe

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mimsylovesloki · 3 years

Text

Episode 2-Play by Play Reactions (Spoilers)

Ooooooh mysterious...

Oh so this variant can (at least briefly) cont people with a simple touch? No need for a scepter?

I NEED A HEROOO!

Oh this variant is taking that lady away? I wonder why

Miss Minutes is gonna move me to violence

Loki is me studying

Hahahahaha get her Loki!

Loki, leave Mobius’ magazines alone

Wow he got into the work force rather fast huh? Bit of a whiplash type scenario considering the end of episode one

No, YOU’RE a cosmic mistake! 😤 my boy looks hot regardless

Sooooo Loki is the most common variant? Why does this not surprise me?

Is... is he a football cup champion??? Omg 😂

Smart boy. Illusion projecting is different than duplication casting. Neato. LISTEN TO MY SMART BOY. RESPECT HIM.

Dude loves wheeling

Yea Loki. Work on getting to the time keepers. Overthrow the government.

Dude is smart with these questions.

Propaganda is INDEED exhausting so that’s fair

Fist hostage... maybe he’s (or she?) gonna use her as a body transfer like Loki in the comics with Sif?

Oh please let this be a genuine smart Loki moment and not just setting him up as a joke and embarrassment...

“Where there are wolf’s ears, wolf’s teeth are near.” Good to know basic mammalian anatomy is still applicable to Asgardian wolves...

Cmon Loki do something cool. Please. Please Loki. Please.

Preach my man, but please, do something cool. My anxiety that you’ll be turned into a joke is spiking.

Is he actually waiting outside or is Loki really just trying to mess with them and throw them off? Or is he just being too cocky for his own good and it’s gonna mess him up? Please please please don’t disappoint me. I have merch for this show already that I can’t return

Bargain baby, bar again. Do it.

Is he actually concerned for the time keepers orrrrrr

Dangit Mobius

Does... being reset... hurt?

Bye C-20 I guess... for now? We’ll see

Of course it’s a friggin theremin that’s playing

Mobius x Judge Renslayer? Oooooooh. Tsundere Renslayer.

Use a coaster my man

Oh her first name is Ravonna

Controversy is the best thing though

You can never understand this Loki. As soon as you begin to understand, he changes. He’s unpredictable.

“I know you have a soft spot for broken things.” Ah, so this entire fandom then?

“But Loki is an evil, lying scourge.” YOU TAKE THAT BACK YOU WENCH!

“That is the part he plays in the sacred timeline.” Well you clearly haven’t been paying enough attention to the files then, hm? Here, let me redirect you to one of the many character analyses I’ve written. Now if you read here........

He doesn’t need to change. He’s already not evil

I don’t trust Renslayer or the time keepers... or Renslayer WITH the time keepers... I think she plays a bigger, antagonistic role than I thought.

You just TRY and delete him Mobius... just... TRY... I will find a way to break the fourth wall and no time keepers can keep you safe from the rage of a million fan girls. Nothing... we don’t need magic...

Omg Loki just sitting there in a chair outside the office like a kid while their parent is talking with the teacher about their “recent behavior”.

Cmon Loki, you don’t need to make excuses or impress him.

My poor boy is SOOO out of his zone.

Tbf mobius, you ASKED. You asked what makes him tick.

Hey hey hey, let’s not gaslight my boy...

The Loki is... uhhh something... gotta keep my hopes up. Trust in Tom Hiddleston...

Mobius showing his true colors...

Please Loki... be badass... not just a joke... please please please... PLEASE!

Mobius, play nice.

I hope this “superior” Loki thing, if it is a female, isn’t a desperate attempt at feminism pandering, chocking up her “superiority” to being female. Please give the characters real stories. Flesh them out.

Juice box time?

No?

More homework?

Bugger...

The sass is off the charts

Librarian lady gonna get killed

Oh boy

Pffffft—

I miss Casey.

Hey don’t ignore Loki. That’s rude.

Bell is the answer?

Poor Loki. Stop trying to fit in. You are best when you are genuinely yourself.

What’s to stop Loki from grabbing the other files?

Homework... I thought I escaped this when I graduated...

Whatcha seeing there?

Oh...

Bye bye Asgard...

Cmon... not more feels.

AGGHHHHHHHH

Please allow him confirmation of Thor’s survival and beating of Thanos!!! He needs that confirmation! He needs that reassurance.

Hear him out Mobius.

“He’s hiding in apocalypses.” Sooooo is that why they go to presumably Mount Vesuvius? I assume?

Mobius, let Loki have your salad.

Rip salad

CASEY

Casey’s juice box

Poor Casey and mobius salad...

Loki, your logic astounds me.

Well, pushing Hulk off of the bridge WOULD have an effect...

VESUVIUS HERE WE COME

He hasn’t really stabbed anyone in the back... except Thor... but not 50 times

Pompeii, here we come!

Ooooooh we gonna see Loki dance with a lady? 😏 get ittttt

Well, if you do cause a branch, can’t you just reset the timeline?

CAUSE SOME CHAOS MY LOVELY MAN

OMG IM HEARING THE LOVE OF MY LIFE SPEAK ITALIAN

I can die happy now

Loki... you look insane.

Uhhh run

Okay you’re good

Sleepy Loki

Let him sleep!

Soooo, I mean, technically, Loki’s actions would still cause the timeline to change, but said change wouldn’t have an impact on the future, just the current moment... so shouldn’t it still be detected by the TVA? At least as a little fleck?

Jet skis?

Omg I just snorted at Loki begrudgingly agreeing with Mobius that jet skis are awesome

Mobius offending my History Teachers for 50 minutes straight... that’s it. That’s the episode.

Mobius really in love with jet skis for some reason

We better get to see Mobius on a jet ski

Fighting for jet skis?

Lol mobius has a point about the magical Asgardians and Jötunns

Glorious purpose

Cmon Loki, destroy this man’s beliefs.

OVERTHROW THE GOVERNMENT

DO IT

TEAM UP AND THROW THE TIMELINE INTO CHAOS

How would you know what the time keepers are doing when you’ve never met them?

How can you meet in peace at the end of time with no chaos?

“You see, I know something children don’t. That no one bad is ever truly bad. And no one good is ever truly good.”

Mobius, don’t patronize my boy. Go jet skiing.

“I know.” Oh good, that point in the trailer was edited.

No candy on Asgard? Poor Loki.

May the best man win? Well that automatically means Loki.

Getting National Treasure vibes

Love you

Alabama will still exist in 2050? That’s disappointing.

Roxxcart.

Loki is very smart. Thank you show.

Renslayer, if you claim Mobius is your friend, trust him.

Kachow!

“For all time.” “Always.” TVA is definitely a cult.

Weapon?

WEAPON!

...weapon???

no weapon...

Meanie...

Are we gonna see what this Loki variant looks like?

I have a feeling this variant is gonna be the female, blonde (I’m so sorry, at the moment I forget her name) in those pictures we saw. Guessing because 1) she was wearing a Loki outfit. 2) her and tom Hiddleston were wet in that picture as if rained on 3) the scene when they enter Roxxcart occurs when it starts to rain due to the upcoming massive storm. So I’m placing all of my money on the table the Loki variant is Lady Loki. Blonde, for some reason. (Or maybe she just didn’t have a wig on in the picture of her we saw?)

Yea please don’t prune this Loki.

Storms a brewing

Good to know Alabama, at some point, does get destroyed. That’s comforting. (Btw this is a joke. I have nothing against Alabama lol. Idk why my brain thought this was funny lol.)

All wet and rainy.

HAHAHAHA USE THAT MAGIC BABY

LET MOBIUS STICK WITH LOKI

Ooh ooh! Is Loki gonna use powers to yoink the roomba here?

Uh oh. Forgot to take into consideration that most big businesses, especially stores, have security cameras, huh?

Times ticking...

Wait was that a reset charge?

Awkward silence

Spookyyyy

Poor dude lol

Or not

Hmmm

Oh???

I RECOGNIZE THAT MAGIC!!! ITS HER!!!

HUNTER (forget her number) IS THE LOKI VARIANT!!! When was she replaced? Or was she always the variant?

That or the other Loki is projecting herself into the hunter? Maybe used the shopping dude as a conduit?

Moment of realization

Smiling contest

No no, Tom Hiddleston’s Loki is superior. I don’t care who else tries to play Loki, Tom IS Loki.

Oh no

Baby crying?

These poor people...

No need to be rough

Is Mobius genuinely caring

Oh... poor C-20

Team up please? Please?

Ah so they really can just send themself into any body they wish, huh? Just by touch?

Loki, learn that trick please.

Sooo, is the other variant Loki’s body tangible? Do they project their conscience into other bodies via touch, or do they not have a corporeal body and rely on others to exist?

Doctor Who vibes

TEAM UP PLEASE

YES

Please

Please?

Offended by Loki name?

Haha sympathy for Thor

Go randy.

Soooo what are you interested in if not ruling the TVA?

Who’s that planting charges? The real body of the other variant Loki?

You okay C-20? (Off topic her actress reminds me of the actress who played Ava Star aka Ghost in Ant-Man and the Wasp) what is real and what about it is so mind capturing for you?

Oh no

Poor girl

Cmon B-15

Hello?

Reset charge

Oh? Bye bye?

HEY!

That’s rude

I miss Randy too

Cmon Loki fight like the badass I know you are

Please

HAHA! TELEKINESIS

Cartwheel WEEEEE

Oooh he swore

Lokis have a pattern of swearing only while taking other peoples forms

Cmon Loki. Go back to mobius. Help them. Prove your goodness. Please.

Poor trucker man

Hello?

Hello!

Fave reveal?

I KNEW IT

Oh????

Flashlights?

RUN!

Is this actually a Loki variant or just sylvie? Or Amora?

Uh oh...

What’s happening

Is she absolutely destroying the timeline?

Poor Doctor Strange. I wonder if he knows about the TVA?

Loki is all alone? Why is he standing still?

Where is she going?

Cmon Loki... help them please...

Loki...

CLIFF HANGER

NOOOOO I CANT WAIT ANOTHER WEEK AGHHHHHHHH

Are they gonna be okay?

How is the variant traveling?

What is her goal?

Why is Loki going after her?

Why is Loki leaning towards the apparent evil side?

Is this actually lady Loki or sylvie or amora since her hair is blonde?

WHAT IS HAPPENING???

So much just happened in so little time. It’s like Marvel wants to slowly spoon feed us with the first 3/4 of the episode and then in the last 1/4, they waterboard us.

Why is this female Loki variant so much more powerful?

So Loki DID know what was going on at the Renaissance fair and was intentionally stalling for her... why?

Her horned helmet is similar to the one kid(?) Loki wears in the comics. One horn broken. How did that happen? Why does she still wear it, especially if she doesn’t want to be called Loki?

No end credit scene yet.

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #disney #loki on disney+#Loki show #Loki series #disney plus #disney+#disney+ loki #loki disney #tom hiddleston #Loki episode 2 #loki spoilers #loki reaction

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tealquacks · 4 years

Text

Sunlight Over Me (No Matter What I Do)

Originally posted here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27618575

Massive thanks to @dontatkiwi for helping me edit this.

Enjoy!

——————

Dream gave him black armor that glistened in the moonlight. Schlatt, for as strong as he was, swayed under the weight. The heat. Dream’s words sounded funny, as if he was speaking to him through water, form shifting like a verdant mirage. They stood in a grey stone tower, staring down at the world. Schlatt leaned against the balcony. The sun slowly inched up over the horizon, golden beams burning his eyes. Manburg sprawled out below them in all of its glory, the podium still decorated for the festival. Birds chirped and called for their mates, flapping from tree to tree. The air smelled fresh and cold, a gentle breeze carrying the smell of the sea. It would be a beautiful day, an even more beautiful night once the war was over. Schlatt sighed.

They wanted him to fight, didn’t they? Even though he had everything to lose. Wait, he didn’t. He’d already lost everyone, except for Fundy and Manburg. Now that was his everything, all he had to live and die for. How lonely. But still, he would fight. He was big and strong and so was his heart, and everything would be fixed soon. Schlatt reached into his pocket and pulled out a flask. He drank slowly. It did nothing to satiate his thirst. If anything, the burn of the alcohol made him feel thirstier than he’d ever been before. His mouth opened, then he shut it hard enough to make his tongue bleed. Quackity’s name died on his lips. His tongue throbbed from the pain, but it was worth it to keep that name out of his mouth. He didn’t need a weakling around him. He never needed anyone. He could win wars with the smallest gestures, he could topple towers with his whiskey scented breath. The rapid pounding of his heart was a war drum. He took another swig, washing away the iron taste of blood.

Quackity had had the audacity to look at him with tears in his eyes before scampering away. The White House was ugly as shit and deserved to be taken down, so something beautiful could grow in its place. But Quackity just couldn’t understand that. They fought. Schlatt didn’t remember what he said, just that Quackity shot him and left in fear. Quackity was a deer. A deer. His darling little fawn. Deer. With big black eyes and terror coursing through his veins. And Schlatt was a wolf, a predator, an emperor. He was stronger than everyone. Cowards, all of them.

“All of you are fucking cowards.” He muttered. Dream turned his head, giving him a masked glare. Schlatt flipped him off, and laughed. He slumped against the tower wall, metal clanging against stone. No knives would be put into his back. Not tonight. Not by a deer or a man in a box or anyone else.

Dream wouldn’t talk to him. They weren’t friends, they didn’t even trust one another, but the end justified the means. They could at least agree on that. If Dream was his second in command, they’d at least get shit done. But when he and Quackity worked together…

It was good at first. Quackity was easy to sway to his side with a simple talk. They drank wine before going to bed, a glass for each of them, and Schlatt would always pick on Quackity for stirring a bit of honey to negate the bitterness. Things felt less foggy back then, and he could spend a whole day without drink. Then Quackity wanted them to marry. Quackity wanted so much, but couldn’t read the room for shit, couldn’t see what needed to be done for Manburg to prosper. He never knew what was needed. Soon a glass for each of them turned to half a glass for Quackity and three for himself. After Quackity left, three glasses turned into downing close to the entire bottle before collapsing into bed, cold and alone. His room was filled with empty bottles.

An arrow flew at the tower. It impaled itself in the stone. He didn’t even flinch. The people around him erupted into action, knocking arrows and shouting about holding the tower. It needed to be held. He took his helmet off, sweat dripping down his face. He ran his fingers through his unkempt hair. A matted portion right by the base of his left horn stopped his fingers in their tracks. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d bathed or combed his hair. Surely his horns would look horrid, too, crusted with dirt, and his goat like ears were probably matted, too. He laughed quietly, wiping the sweat off his face.

God it was so fucking hot. The sun was so gold, so glorious, and hung heavily in the sky. It felt like an omen. A swarm of people ran to the tower all wearing the same armor, chest plates and helms that made them look like a flock of black flies. He took a drink from his flask, fire burning his throat. He couldn’t remember what the hell he’d put in it. Alcohol, and some of his other favorite things.

Dream grabbed his arm. It hurt. He shouted something that Schlatt couldn’t hear. But Dream looked away and jumped from the tower. Of course, Schlatt followed, stumbling over the balcony, toppling head first down, down, down, his body landing with a splash in a bit of water. The sun was high in the sky— where had that time gone? He crawled from the murky water, kicking his boots off into the fields. They landed in a half grown patch of wheat, resting in the rich farmland. He felt so hot. The sun, the sun, the glorious sun, pummeled him with heat.

Lucky for him, his grip on his flask didn’t waver when he fell. He guzzled from the flask and staggered to his feet, shoes squelching in the black earth. The people shot at one another. Arrows hailed down from the high balcony of the tower. Some went up, too. Fireworks crackled, thick, sulfuric smoke filling the air. He walked away from the tower.

This wasn’t his fault, it couldn’t be. It was Wilbur’s. Fucking Wilbur, that sanctimonious bastard with all of his grand ideas of victory and freedom. Just because he was pretty and eloquent didn’t mean he was a good leader. Wilbur was a warmonger, an idealist. So the logical thing was to banish him. Yet he still decided to start a war against him, his presidency, the peace he had made. All he wanted was to bring peace, where had the peace gone? He’d done all he could. Gotten rid of all the evil bits, all the useless bits. The weak parts. He’d scorched the land down to the soil, new things would grow.

Fireworks crackled nearby. He unclasped his netherite leggings, letting them fall to the ground. His chestplate went too, both of them striking the earth with a satisfying thud. Someone shot at someone. Someone was screaming. Every firework blast made his head throb, the shouts piercing his head like a knife. He drank again, stumbling forward. The grass looked so green. Manburg looked so beautiful, decorated for the festival. He closed his eyes. Tubbo had so much potential, it’s a shame he couldn’t see past the short term. It’s a real shame.

When he opened them, he was standing before the ocean, sinking into the sand. He stared out at it. The air smelled like salt. Waves pounded the beach, as if the tide was at war with the earth he stood on. But the waves had made the beach, and the earth was nothing but a place for him to mold as he pleased. A high pitched noise came from nowhere. He kicked at the sand. He took a swig from his flask, the alcohol sloshing around until the last drop went down his throat. He dipped it into the raging waves. Water sounded so nice, especially the ocean, glimmering like diamonds in the bright sunlight. He’d been drinking. And yet, he still felt so, so thirsty. With one hand he tilted it up into his mouth, with the other he loosened his tie. The sharp taste of salty water hit his tongue, and he gagged at how cold it was. Still, he swallowed. God. Where was he?

Manburg. His Manburg. With raging oceans and deep forests and supple farmland. He had made it so, so wonderful. Washed the bugs from the nation, but now they returned like a swarm of locusts. His heart felt like it would explode. Everything around him was so blurry and too bright, the heat was driving him crazy. It had to be the sun. So thirsty. The salt tasted bad. Bad things were fine, they made you stronger. And if there was one thing he was, it was strong. He had to be, or they’d eat him alive, and leave his bones to bleach in the sun.

The world around him felt blurry, the world shifting. Like a mirage, almost, ears ringing. He stumbled over something. Darkness fell around him.

When he opened his eyes, there was a wooden floor beneath him, and more bottles. He finally was free of the horrible sun, and surrounded by bottles of drink, a perfect combination. Looking around, he noticed the dirt walls and the hole in the ceiling, and realized that he was in his little hideout, where he would go in the day to hide. Of course, there was alcohol. He poured the salt water onto the floor, picked up a bottle, and sipped from it. Whatever was in the bottle was strong, almost tasting like a protein shake, nice and refreshing. Wonderful. He drank. Maybe after all this blew over, he and Fundy could work out together. And he could work things out with Quackity. It would all be fine. Of course they’d have to spruce Manburg up a little, take down the ragged, unorganized buildings, and build from the ground up. Then he and Quackity would be married in winter and be one another’s warmth. Come springtime, they’d watch Manburg grow. Together.

No, that wouldn’t happen. He was weak. Quackity was weak.

He gracelessly lowered himself to the floor, legs shaking like a baby deers. Once sitting, he pulled out a lighter and a cigar. He flicked his thumb on the lighter once, twice, then took a long draw of the cigar. It did nothing to calm him. Someone poked their head in. Then they ran away. He took another draw of his cigar, hands shaking. Then, he drank again. Draw, drink. Draw, drink. His heart banged against his ribcage. His heart was a war drum. Once all this was done it would all be back to normal. There would be peace, he could rest, and be at peace. He’d go back to being president. And everyone would kneel to him and he’d celebrate be happy even without the alcohol and the drugs.

Happiness. Peace.

A flood of noise rushed into the place he was hidden. He tilted the bottle up, licking around the glass rim before letting it pour down his throat, trying to chase the high. It burned his throat like bile, but had a sickly sweet aftertaste.

Someone touched him.

“Schlatt, what are you doing?” A warm, familiar voice said. Schlatt frowned, squinting at the source of the noise.

“...Wilbur?” He slurred. He looked around, eyes finally focusing on Wilbur. His coat and scarf were tattered, stained with soot and blood. So many people were around him. Dream, Tommy, Purpled, Tubbo, and Wilbur. Everything smelled like gunpowder and iron. They stared at him. Their eyes burned like the sun. He chuckled.

“What are you doing?” Wilbur repeated. Schlatt looked around frantically, a smile blossoming on his face.

“What the hell? Is this a surprise birthday party?”

He knew it wasn’t. As if anyone would care enough to celebrate his life. He took another long drink of whatever was in the bottle, emptying it, and picking another one up from the floor. It burned his throat in a wonderful, familiar way. Wilbur shouted at him, but that damn high pitched noise made his words incomprehensible, making his ears twitch frantically. The drink was good at least. A protein shake, maybe. With creatine, probably, something that would make him big and strong, untouchable, unhurtable, hammer curls, his head spun. He tried to catch his breath, taking deep, even breaths. He counted, trying to calm himself. The voices around him picked up but he couldn’t discern one from another, it was simply a cacophony, a horrifying sight, and he couldn’t breathe.

People around him talked. He finished the bottle, and dropped it, then took another bottle from within his jacket. He tilted his head back, taking a long drink. Up, in the sky, no, standing on the roof—

“Fundy?” He screamed, “Fundy what are you doing here!?!”

“Schlatt, are you fucking drunk,” Fundy deadpanned.

“Fundy are you— “

Fundy dropped down from the roof, right in front of him. His fur was matted in places with blood and dirt. He’d been fighting. The one person he thought he could trust. Staring at him. Big black blank eyes. Like a deer, a deer in fox clothes.

“You BITCH!” Schlatt howled. He lashed out at Fundy with the bottle. Who’d lift with him now? Fucking bitch.

“Schlatt, you fucked up the country, you fucked up everything! You had a dream and I followed it and you brought it downhill.”

Schlatt drank. He didn’t want to hear it. His heart wouldn’t stop violently hammering against his ribs. His arm hurt.

“You ruined it!” Fundy continued, “you ruined everything we had!”

Maybe the shake had something in it. Was he talking? His skin felt wrong. Too hot. The sun crawled through the windows. It crept through the ceiling.

“I thought you were something,” Fundy shouted.

Schlatt glared at him.

“Oh my fucking God. Yeah, I am something, I’m what you’re not, Fundy.”

His cigar had burnt out. He needed another puff to stop his hands from shaking. With quivering hands, he flicked the lighter. No flame came out. He’d need more butane. He flicked the lighter again, and a tiny flame lept out. There we go. He lit his cigar, taking a long, deep pull. The world around him was spinning, like a little carnival ride.

“What am I not?” Fundy barked. Schlatt breathed acrid, grey smoke into his face.

“I’m a man,” Schlatt hissed.

Everyone gasped. Wilbur went up in his face. His mouth moved, but the words that came out didn’t make sense. He slammed the bottle into Wilbur, over and over, until Fundy came back into his eyesight. He broke the bottle against his armor. So many people were shouting. Someone had a sword— he had a sword? Rage took over. He slashed it at Fundy. Chased him. Then stumbled back. If he was speaking, he couldn’t tell. Thought and words had all blended into one. What the hell was in the drink?

He didn’t care. He grabbed a new bottle and chugged.

Something sharp pressed against his forehead. His eyes fluttered, before finally focusing onto whoever was in front of him. Blond hair, blue eyes— Tubbo? No. Tommy. Tommy held a crossbow up to his head. A twinge of fear made his heart lurch in his chest. Was he going to kill him? Don’t, don’t. He stared at the crossbow.

“Victory or death,” Wilbur exclaimed, so proud. He would’ve been a shit President. Schlatt couldn’t help but give a small chuckle. This was his country. His. Nobody else knew his plans to rebuild, and they’d all fail. They weren’t as strong as him.

“You know if I die, this country goes down with me.”

“No it doesn’t, Schlatt,” Tommy said, voice calm and level. Schlatt laughed, and drank. He swallowed down the liquid. Right there in front of him stood Quackity. Sunglasses hid those doe eyes from him. His heart felt like a clenched fist. It hurt.

“I had everybody turn on me,” he said darkly, “in my time of need, everybody left. You left.”

His fist connected with Quackity’s face before he could even think. Quackity stumbled back. More words stumbled from his mouth, but he didn’t know what he was saying anymore. He wanted to collapse. He wanted to not have to be strong anymore. His breath caught in his chest. He couldn’t breathe.

“You made a mistake, you made the biggest mistake by not taking me—“

“You’re pathetic, Schlatt!” Fundy crowed.

“This is your fault and your fault only,” someone else said. They weren’t wrong. He’d fucked up over and over.

Schlatt just mumbled and cried out whatever he thought. His body was separated from his mind. He didn’t know what he was saying. Bad, bad, everything was bad and doomed, oh god.

Tommy pressed the crossbow against his chest. He coughed. The breath left his body. Oh god they were going to kill him. Under the bright sun. The sun. People were talking. Too many people were talking, voices mingling with the ringing in his ears, a horrifying symphony. He wheezed. Something was burning. Toast? Wilbur looked at him. Said something. He drank. That had to help. Nothing could help. Something was happening.

He didn’t feel good. One last puff. Had to help. Had to get him stronger. Didn’t feel good. His heartbeat crescendoed. So many people were looking at him but they wouldn’t help, they wouldn’t help, were they just going to watch? It hurt, it hurt so bad, why wouldn’t they help him?

The pain in his chest made him crumble. His head hit the hard floor. A weak gasp escaped him, and his empty eyes gazed up through the hole in the ceiling.

The sun stared down at his body.

#mcyt #dream smp #jschlatt #Wilbur Soot #myct fanfic #tw death #Fundy #itsfundy #quackity #tw drugs #dreamwastaken

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pinky-the-elephant-room · 4 years

Text

Passion Week

AN: I wrote this crackish Tamaki smut prompt for @liliesoftherain and I’s server Dessert May prompts. Did anyone ask for this? No. Did I enjoy torturing poor Tamaki? Yes. Did I possibly bully my entire server to do this prompt so I have a reason to write this? Maybe. I haven’t completely edited this yet, will continue to edit it throughout the day. So excuse the typos and point them out in comments if you notice anything.

Warning: Explicit smut involving handjob and a blowjob between Fem Reader and Tamaki.

Read the rest of the prompts: Here

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Tamaki admired Mirio immensely. The thing he admired about him the most, was the fact Mirio was able to approach anyone and befriend them in a couple of minutes. Or at least remain acquaintances and be on friendly terms with them. Unfortunately for Tamaki it was the complete opposite. He could barely utter a few sentences to someone he didn’t know personally. That was the reason he managed to have only one best friend since elementary school. Furthermore, Tamaki didn’t befriend Nejire until high school. It was kind of sad to be honest and he severely wished he could emulate Mirio.

He wanted to be able to chat with his classmates about the newest video game or even about the weather if he could manage it. But Tamaki couldn’t muster the courage, and neither would any of them approach him. Apparently, being one of the big three meant that you were off limits and intimidating. Even though all of them saw him blushing and crouching against the nearest wall, they still stayed away.

However, recently since gaining his courage and fighting villains, gave him the courage to want to change himself. Tamaki was finally going to befriend people. Well, other than Mirio, Neijire, and did Kirishima count?

Tamaki took a deep breath to settle the anxiety bubbling in stomach. Yes, he was going to approach someone first and talk to them! He had even written down a few topics to talk about on his notecard. He was ready to take that step!

Tamaki looked up to see a group of his classmates leaving. Releasing a shuddering breath, he left go of his tight grip on his desk. Showtime.

Tamaki slipped his backpack on and got ready to leave. He followed the group of boys behind them, his plan was to interrupt and ask them if he could join. Being their classmate hopefully they would say yes.

“Uwaa, Ren-kun you bought the newest issue? How was it?” A boy with brown spikey hair named Seiji asked.

“It was really amazing, worth every yen. I had to hide it from my parents, but I managed it.” Ren stated smugly.

All the boys uttered expressions of amazements. “Sugeiii!”

Tamaki from behind wanted to ask what they were talking about as he opened his mouth only to hesitate horribly and squeak.

The boys fortunately didn’t hear that and kept walking.

“I don’t have enough courage to even step in front of the cashier with that!”

Ren put his arm around his friend Seiji. “Don’t worry I gotchu. I’ll let you borrow it!”

Immediately everyone else erupted, asking for Ren to also borrow who only laughed smugly.

The boys walked away in a hurry, leaving behind a terrified and disappointed Tamaki.

He sighed sadly and knew that he would fail eventually, but at least he tried. So, Tamaki trudged home, his failure weighing on him heavily.

The sunny day contrasting tremendously with his current mood, he was about to cross the street when he noticed a bookstore.

The boys were talking about the newest issue, so maybe he could buy and read it! Hopefully finish it by tomorrow and have something to talk about when he got to school.

Feeling much happier about his revised plan, Tamaki strolled in and wandered for a few minutes before he found the manga they were talking about. It was a pink and orange cover with the words “Passion Week” splashed in lime green. That was a weird name for a shounen manga, but Tamaki shrugged. He hadn’t read a manga for a couple years now so maybe that was the trend nowadays?

He waited in line patiently before it was his turn. Stuttering his way through the greeting to the cashier, he quickly put down the manga.

The cashier picked up the merchandise and froze. He eyed Tamaki suspiciously and shot him a judgmental look.

Tamaki blushed heavily and quickly laid down some yen, murmuring for them to keep the change and quickly ran out of the bookstore.

That was weird, he couldn’t help but think. Maybe he looked suspicious or the cashier recognized him as an intern for Fatgum?

Trying not to let it get to him too much otherwise he could spend hours being paranoid about what happened.

Tamaki waited till he got home and settled. Taking care to get undressed and munched on a snack before he grabbed the manga to begin reading. The beginning was pretty soothing, it was a love story between childhood friends. He liked how innocent the vibe was, it kind of felt like a slice of life. Way different than the shounen manga he figured the boys liked. Then a few pages later the vibe started getting different, Tamaki felt his eyebrow furrow. Huh, maybe it was a mix between a mystery and a slice of life? He skipped a few pages to see where the plot was heading and shortly felt his face explode in a plethora of color. Tamaki could feel his eyes swirling and steaming blowing out of his ears.

Oh no. This wasn’t a shounen manga. Or a slice of life. Not even in the slightest. Tamaki squeaked and threw the comic from him as far as humanly possible.

He didn’t know it was possible for girls to put that in their mouths!! Tamaki gulped as he tried to process what his naked eyes had just seen. The manga was porn. His classmates were talking about reading p-o-r-n!!!

No wonder the cashier gave him such a weird look, there was no way he could step into that store ever again! He covered his face with his hands and let out a low groan. He just wanted to befriend his classmates why was this so hard??! Tamaki gave up, he wasn’t going to discuss porn with his classmates even if they became best friends for life. He was satisfied with Mirio who he was sure had never seen a naked girl. Nor did he read porn well as far as Tamaki knew.

He threw a look at the cursed manga he threw across his room. Now what was he doing to do with that?

A week later~

Y/N cheerfully skipped and hummed under her breath as she followed Mirio. The two of them were classmates in Class 3-B and since the first day of class somehow ended up sharing lunch with Nejire-chan and Amajiki-kun.

Today was an especially amazing day because she bought another set of desserts from the foreign bakery that opened up nearby. It was incredible, there were so many Italian sweets, the likes of which she had never seen before. Just yesterday she tried a Panforte and moaned as the nutty and fruity flavor exploded in her mouth. It was destiny! Y/N was in love with the quaint Italian bakery and she made sure to promise herself to pick a different pastry for lunch every day.

Y/N waved at Nejire-chan who was excitedly doing the same, almost falling off the bench in her endeavor.

“Y/N-chan! Did you grab something else today too?” Nejire asked excitedly. Y/N imagined a tail wagging behind her.

She nodded in affirmation and turned to greet the shy, pointy eared boy.

“Amajiki-kun! How are you?” The boy merely turned his head away, blushing deeply as he mumbled a response.

Y/N smiled patiently at him. He had always been like that with her. At first, she thought he hated her, but after talking with both Mirio and Nejire-chan they both reassured her that wasn’t the case and he was merely shy with strangers. So, she let it go and waited enduringly. Y/N hoped one day they could be good friends.

Mirio collapsed next to her and opened his large bento to start wolfing it down.

Y/N opened her own that her oka-san prepared for her and also took out the neatly packed bakery sweets. They were adorably wrapped in bows. Nejire-chan cooed at the sight.

“I bought something called Cannolis today! These are filled with sweet cream and some chocolate chips,” Y/N explained showing the tube-shaped shells.

Neijire was about to take one for herself before her hand got slapped by Y/N.

“Eat your bento first,” she said strictly.

Nejire pouted and settled down the bench before taking up wooden chopsticks and forlornly ate her lunch.

The four of them settled into a comfortable silence with only Mirio eagerly breaking it, talking about his exciting internship with Sir Nighteye.

“He seems strict at first, but really you just need to make him laugh to break the ice is what I told Izuku! I hope Sir Nighteye can see Izuku for who he is soon,” Mirio said.

Y/N nodded absentmindedly, Mirio had told them this story like 10 times this week. It was getting kind of boring, but the trio didn’t have it in them to tell their excited friend the truth.

Soon enough everyone finished their bentos, except for Nejire who set aside the rest of her plain rice, too excited for the dessert.

Y/N passed one to Mirio, who took a huge chomp and with his full, puffy cheeks managed to mumble out a “thanks.” She giggled at her silly friend before offering one to Nejire-chan. And finally, to her shy friend who with rosy cheeks, quickly bowed to her in thanks.

She took one for herself and took a tentative bite. The cream was really sugary, but the doughy bread mixed well, and the chocolate chips provided a slight bitter taste. The heaven in her mouth made her slightly orgasmic as she relished with joy. Y/N took another bite and moaned at the flavors in her mouth. Seriously, that bakery was top notch! She exchanged a delight look with Nejire who also was enthusiastically finishing her own treat, with cream covering the corners of her mouth.

Unknown to either of the girls, Tamaki had frozen in his seat. His hand was suspended in midair as he stared fixedly at Y/N’s face. The moan, the cream, and the flush of her cheeks resembled way too much what he had read in Passion Week! Ever since that awful week, Tamaki noticed things he normally wouldn’t have. Especially things regarding Y/N, like how pouty her lips were or how she seemed to bite her lips often.

Tamaki flushed red as blood flowed down to an entirely inappropriate place. When Y/N let out another girlish sigh, he stiffened and jumped out of his seat. He could no longer hide how excited he was and so he quickly covered his front with his school uniform. Tamaki dashed away from the scene, humiliated beyond belief.

Y/N turned to her friends, who looked just as baffled as her at Amajiki-kun’s behavior.

“The pastry wasn’t that bad was it guys?”

A week later:

Y/N scowled while she stared at the bench. It had been a week since Amajiki-kun last ate with them. Ever since that day where he strangely ran away, Amajiki-kun refused to eat with them. Y/N felt distressed, she didn’t realize how much she would miss her shy friend. His silent but supportive presence was a much-needed reprieve from Mirio and Nejire’s chan hyper and exuberant companies.

Moreover Amajiki-kun interacted with Nejire and Mirio frequently, but he was extensively avoiding Y/N more than he usually did. Sure, he blushed heavily, rarely spoke, and stuttered whenever he attempted to talk to her, but at least he didn’t run away at the sight of her. Y/N didn’t know what she did for him to be so upset at her. Both of her other friends told her to wait it out, they were sure Tamaki would get over whatever that was bothering him. But Y/N wasn’t so sure, she was convinced he hated her. Her lip quivered and she felt the urge to cry.

Y/N jumped when she felt a touch on her shoulder. She turned around to see Nejire-chan looking sympathetically at her.

“if it’s bothering you so much go talk to him!”

“But you said to wait it out,” Y/N said confused.

“I know! But both of you are driving me nuts so go fix it right now,” she said cheerfully.

Y/N smiled wryly at her friend and sighed.

“Fine, I will go. Don’t get your hopes up though. I doubt we will even talk before he runs away again.”

Y/N trudged though U.A. looking for the sight of the pointed ear boy and found him tucked away in the obscure parts on the grounds of U.A.

She approached slowly and quietly, trying not to spook him before they got to talk. He finally noticed her when she stepped in front of him and he peeked at her nervously through his navy hair.

“Hi, Amajiki-kun. Do you mind if we talk? I have something to ask you.”

He shook his head and scooted over so she could sit on the grass next to him.

She began right away, not wasting time. “So, I’ve noticed this past week. You’ve been avoiding us or specifically me. I don’t know what I’ve done to make you upset and I’m really sorry. Please don’t be mad,” she began, her eyes started getting watery, her voice getting more and more emotional.

“I just want to be friends again. I want to eat with you again. Please, come back,” Y/N choked out.

Tamaki jumped hearing the emotional plea, he looked at her in horror. He didn’t want to make her cry! God, he was an awful friend.

“No! I-It wasn’t your fault,” he replied quietly. “It’s mine.” She sniffed and calmed herself.

Y/N looked at him confusingly. “What do you mean?”

He hesitated for a couple of minutes, unable to make up his mind whether to come clean to her.

“I promise I won’t judge. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

He nodded. “I read something that was bad. Now I can’t get it out of my mind, and I see it everywhere. And you eating cannolis reminded me of what I read.”

Y/N cocked her head to the side. “What was so bad about it? And why did cannolis remind you of that?”

Tamaki whimpered as his face became flushed and he buried his face in his hands.

“Because i-it was meant for adults! I didn’t mean to and it was by accident. I bought the wrong book and the character put something in her mouth from the male character. It looked like a cannoli!” he managed to get out between smushing his face in his hands.

Y/N’s face twisted as she tried to decipher his words. What was so bad about a book? Then it hit her. It was for adults and it was shaped like a cannoli which resembled a body part. Oh. Oh.

Her own body started flushing. “You read a hentai??!” she exclaimed.

Tamaki let out a sound that sounded like a dying animal and curled himself even more.

Y/N immediately backpedaled, “noooo! It’s not a bad thing. It’s completely normal to be curious. I’m sure a lot of boys our age do! Heck, I’m pretty sure even girls do so please don’t be embarrassed.”

Tamaki peeked from behind his fingers at her. “Really?”

She eagerly nodded. “You should ask Mirio! I wouldn’t be surprised if he does too!”

Tamaki froze at that statement. Oh god, he never wanted to know if his best friend did.

“So, why did you run away? Even if you read that it doesn’t explain why you’ve been avoiding me!”

Tamaki floundered for a minute, indecisive whether he should admit his guilt. He didn’t want to see Y/N’s lovely face with revulsion on it. Tamaki since he met her, thought she was unbelievably pretty, not like Nejire who was attractive in her own way. But rather beautiful in a way that made his heart pound.

“Because after I saw you, I got too excited. I didn’t want you to be disgusted and hate me,” he whispered, admitting his shame.

Y/N perked up, excited? There was always a part of her that found her friend attractive and cute. She wanted to get to know him better, but it was obvious to her Amajiki-kun didn’t need a girlfriend but rather a friend. So, she shoved that part of her far away and settled for giving him his space. Y/N wanted Amajiki-kun to be comfortable around her and she couldn’t do that if she was always flirting and embarrassing him.

She scooted closer to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t hate you for something like that. In fact, I have a solution if you’re willing to hear it.”

Tamaki straightened up and removed the hands on his face. She wasn’t mad? She didn’t hate him? Everything about this was way too good to be true.

“A solution? Like what?” he croaked out

She slid her hand from his shoulder all the way to his hand and squeezed it.

“Every time you feel excited, I wouldn’t mind helping you out,” she said softly.

Tamaki shocked beyond his words, could only numbly nod. He let out a squeak when he felt her hands started raking down his chest.

“Relax… Let me take care of you.”

Y/N as she teased her way down his body, felt the muscles underneath his shirt twitch and flex. Meanwhile, she removed his uniform jacket with the other hand. Tamaki felt his breaths get heavy with excitement, his ears and neck both were flushed red. He couldn’t believe what was happening, he honestly thought Y/N wouldn’t speak to him again! Her hands finally made it to his pants, he let out a whine when her hand pulled down the zipper.

Y/N jerked his pants down and dipped her hands to feel his cock. It took a few pumps before the member got engorged with blood, throbbing with heat. Y/N felt herself salivate, he was the perfect size, not too large and not too small. It was too bad Y/N couldn’t just swing her leg over and mount him like she wanted. But perhaps she could find an excuse to get him alone in her dorm room later. Tamaki whimpered with need when he felt her swipe her thumb across his weeping head.

God, he couldn’t do this. Tamaki could feel himself panic, he needed to hide. This was way too embarrassing, he looked side to side trying to find a way to escape. He choked out a groan when Y/N started a fast rhythm, pumping his cock in a way that made him dizzy. Tamaki slumped and rested his forehead on Y/N’s neck.

She could feel his hefty, hot breaths on her skin. The only other sounds that filtered out was the sound of fast, slick skin sliding and the occasional cry that erupted out of Tamaki who couldn’t suppress it any longer. Y/N stiffened when she felt his tongue flick out and accidently lick her neck. Tamaki for his part was trying to maintain composure and nervously licked his dry and chapped lips. She let go of his shaft and spit a wad of saliva on her hand before resuming her fast rhythm.

Tamaki bucked his hips into her hand, a crescendo of wails spewed out of his mouth. His eyes started tearing up, he sobbed out his pleas, asking for what he didn’t know. She could see the telltale signs that he was close, and so she shrugged him off her before bending down low. Tamaki blinked through his wet lashes to see why his safe place was gone, only to clench his eyes shut as he felt a warm and wet tongue close around his cock. Y/N hallowed her cheeks as she sucked the bulbous head and finally felt him explode. He gasped out and writhed in his spot as pleasure coursed throughout his body. His legs shook and his dick gushed out an excess of warm cum.

Y/N kept swallowing in a rush, trying to down the overflow. Still despite her vigilance, some spilled out as he kept cumming. Finally, his member twitched one last time before she licked it clean and straightened up. Y/N wiped the cum on her face before she looked at Tamaki in the eyes and made a show of licking it clean.

“It’s tasty and sweet. You should definitely let me do this more often,” she teased him.

Tamaki felt his eyes widen and became speechless at her cheek.

Y/N helped to tuck himself back in and made him look presentable before standing up and stretching her cramped legs.

“Come on, I think there’s still time to join Nejire-chan and Mirio. Let’s go eat lunch.”

He nodded and put his jacket back on. Just as Y/N was about to turn away, he grabbed the back of her shirt and pulled.

She looked back at him and shot him a questioning look.

“I want you to call me, T-tamaki,” he whispered.

Y/N shot him a warm smile and grabbed his hands.

��Ok, let’s go, Tamaki-kun”

Mirio and Nejire both exchanged a look of glee when they saw their friends finally return with their hands interlocked and happiness prominent on their faces.

#bnha prompts #mha prompts #bnha fanfiction #tamaki amajiki #mha amajiki #tamaki x oc #tamaki x reader #amajiki tamaki x reader #awkward tamaki #amajiki x reader #bnha server prompts #bnha smut #mha smut #bnha scenarios #amajiki tamaki x oc

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monstersandmaw · 4 years

Text

Male werewolf x female reader (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

This is a patreon tier reward, and I hope you enjoy my take on their big, dad-bodded werewolf OC, Lowe. It's been up on Patreon on early release and is now up on Tumblr for you to enjoy.

Content: playful banter, fluff, the briefest flicker of angst, some dominant tendencies in Lowe (it's not D/s though, for anyone who's not into that), and a reader who gives as good as she gets. Wordcount: 2792

___

As you yanked the door to the campus cafe open with about twice as much force as it needed, you caught a glimpse of Lowe working behind the counter. Of course, there was a massive queue at this time of day; at the midpoint of the afternoon when people were thinking about either finishing up early or knuckling down for a caffeine-fuelled all-nighter.

Engrossed as he’d looked in his work before, he glanced up as if he’d sensed your presence, his warm eyes flicked briefly in your direction as the door opened, and he offered you a quick, fond, twitch of the lips before turning back to the masterpiece of latte art in his hands. Even at that distance, you felt your body relaxing a little more around him. In the time since he’d made some playfully snarky comment about your Pokémon shirt a few months ago - which had, in fact, led to a joint outing on campus playing Pokémon Go together - you and he had fallen into an easy friendship.

You tried not to snarl softly to yourself as the woman at the front of the queue, old enough to be a post-grad perhaps, leaned on the counter and flirted openly with him, but at the end of the day, what claim did you have to him anyway? Lowe was your friend, and as much as you’d like to think you might be the tall, long-haired guy’s type (he was certainly yours, with that ‘powerful-yet-soft-around-the-edges’ dad bod he had going on, and that self-assured confidence that tipped just pleasantly shy of being arrogance), you couldn’t really be sure. After all, you’d seen him getting pretty close with a guy friend of his, so for all you knew, he wasn’t even interested in women, but you’d never really discussed that. The most personal things had got so far was Bloodborne bosses and beloved DnD characters, which was also fine.

The queue slowly dwindled in front of you, and when you stepped up to the counter, Lowe turned from the machine on the far counter and plonked a large cup down before your lips had even opened to begin your order. His grin was positively wolfish, all teeth and glinting eyes.

You pouted and snapped, “And what if I wanted a chai latte with soy milk today?”

He raised one thick eyebrow as he popped the takeaway lid onto the cup with a distractingly big hand, and said flatly, “You hate soy milk. Drink up, grumpy-guts. You’ll feel better…”

You huffed, took the cup off the counter, slapped the cash down just hard enough to make him chuckle and twitch another smile - damn the bastard looked pleased with himself and double-damn, if he didn’t look extra-specially good wearing that expression - and he announced to his colleague that he was going on break.

He joined you outside, tugging out one of the heavy, metal chairs for you without a word before taking a seat on the other side of the table.

Lowe closed his eyes, tipping his head back a little to feel the chilly late-spring breeze on his face. He looked good as he relaxed like that, with his long, thick, nut-brown hair tied back off his face with a few fluffy bits escaping at the front, and his big arms folded across his chest and resting on the slight paunch he had at the waist. Something about the thick, almost russet-brown scruff on his jaw made you want to touch it. Instead, you sipped your drink and sighed.

“Good?” he asked without moving or opening his eyes.

“You know it is, you cocky little shit,” you laughed. Banter with him was always so easy, and you gave as good as you got. “Thanks, by the way. Wouldn’t want you to think I’m a complete brat…”

He snorted and cracked an eye to look at you. The sun caught in his golden-brown iris and glinted softly like polished amber, and it honestly stole your breath for a moment. “How’s the course going?” he asked instead of teasing you any more. “You were pretty stressed about that assignment last time we talked.”

You rolled your eyes and puffed the air out of your chest, swiftly following it with some inarticulate grunt of despair. “It would be going a lot better if my roommate wasn’t also being such an inconsiderate asshole,” you snarled. “Seriously, I don’t think I can take the smell of weed or the late nights any more.”

He frowned. “Can’t you talk to someone about it?”

“Have done. Not sure I’ll have a roommate for much longer though… Missing classes and being constantly stoned must equal tanking grades, right?”

Lowe nodded but didn’t say anything for a while, watching as a gnoll and her girlfriend strolled past, hand in hand. The gnoll nuzzled her nose against the human’s ear and elicited a squawk that made her giggle in return. Eventually he said, “You free this weekend?”

Cocking your head to one side, you shrugged. “Hand-in is on Friday afternoon, so… yeah? I mean, I had just planned to sleep all day… why?”

He looked uncharacteristically apprehensive and chewed on the inside of his cheek before answering. “I was going to head up into the woods for the weekend. Camping. Wondered if you wanted to come too?”

“Camping?”

“Yeah…” he said, looking like he was regretting mentioning it now. “But if you don’t want to, it’s fine. I mean… you’ve earned your rest, and camping under the stars isn’t for everyone. Don’t feel like you have -”

“Shut up for a second, will you?” you laughed, and he drew up short and blinked, staring at you before laughing fondly. “I’ve actually never been camping. I’d love to go, as long as you don’t make me go for a ten mile hike as well…”

“Would I treat you like that?” he crooned and you rolled your eyes again and muttered something which you didn’t think he’d catch. Somehow, however, he did, and he barked a loud laugh, startling a cervitaur walking past with his grocery shopping in each hand. As Lowe turned to look at the cervitaur he’d surprised, you watched his eyes flare gold, almost unnaturally so. Perhaps it was just a trick of the sunlight at this angle. When he looked back at you, you missed what he said, staring at his eyes, which were now back to their normal, warm brown.

He murmured your name, sounding a little concerned. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean it. You’re not a brat… not really…”

“Shut up,” you retorted, your tone carrying no venom. “And you know full well know I can be.”

That Thursday afternoon, your roommate moved out, finally expelled for drug use and selling to other students, and you fumigated the room as best you could, relieved at last. The second after you’d finished deep-cleaning everything, you texted Lowe and said, ‘So… I’m down a roommate now.’

‘You need me to help hide the body?’ he sent back immediately and you burst out laughing.

‘I love you, but no. It was expulsion rather than murder. I was kind of hoping you might want to move in instead?’ you sent, your heart in your mouth. He’d mentioned he was looking for a place closer to campus, and this could be perfect for him. If he was willing to have you as his roommate, of course.

‘Definitely interested. Can I think about it and let you know this weekend?’

That wasn’t a complete rebuttal, you figured. ‘Of course.’

‘Cheers. I’ll pick you up at ten on Saturday.’

True to his word, Lowe didn’t take you on a ten mile route march. He drove you up to the start of a wide, easy looking trail that was apparently only three miles up to the campsite, along a winding, inviting, grassy path. Despite looking maybe a little towards the less fit end of the scale, Lowe was four strides ahead of you in a matter of seconds. Realising this, he slowed, and you nudged him with your elbow.

“Thanks,” you said and he gave you one of his soft, secret smiles that you didn’t see very often.

He wasn’t particularly talkative as you made your way up the path, but the silence between you was easy, relaxing even.

“You’re such a cliche, you know that?” you laughed a little while later as you paused on a rock for a drink and to adjust the laces of your shoe.

Lowe scowled. “How?”

You stared pointedly at the penknife in his hand and the stick he’d picked up and had idly begun to whittle into a howling wolf in his big, strong hands, almost as if he’d not even realised he was doing it. Again, he surprised you by just shrugging a shoulder and turning back to it while you enjoyed the scene. He seemed a bit distracted somehow. When you moved on, he stashed it in his pocket.

Lowe carried literally everything, stowing your water bottle for the way up in the side pocket of his backpack, and even a two-person tent, food supplies for that evening and breakfast, and more water than you probably drank over the course of three days, and yet he still managed to arrive at the campsite as if he’d just strolled the length of one city block.

He impressed you again by lighting a fire and cooking a veritable feast for you both on a little makeshift grill, and he looked more than pleased with himself when you complimented him. “Don’t let it go to your big fat head,” you snickered and he growled playfully at you.

Quite literally growled.

The moment he’d done it, he went still, eyes wide, and even looked a little sick. “Shit,” he hissed.

“What?”

“I…” then his huge shoulders slumped despondently and he let out a long breath. “I guess now’s as good a time as any to tell you. I mean, I’ve been meaning to tell you for… well, since we kind of became friends, really. But it never seemed… convenient…”

“Convenient to tell me what?”

He shuffled a bit and poked at the embers of the fire. Your stomach felt uneasy, and it had nothing to do with the inordinate amount of amazing food you’d just finished. “I…” he began, and then whispered, “Fuck it.” He looked you in the eye and said, “I’m not human. I’m a werewolf.”

You blinked. It didn’t totally surprise you, if you were honest. “Well, that… certainly makes one or two things add up…”

“You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad?”

He turned his golden eyes away from you and poked a bit more at the smoldering, grey wood, making it crumble to fragile ashes. He did look a bit easier now though. “I figured… maybe you wouldn’t… that if you knew that I’m not human, you might not want me as your roommate anymore… It was stupid though, I know.”

“Lowe,” you said, more gently this time, reaching for his bare forearm where he’d cuffed his tartan sleeve up to his elbow. His skin was warm and his muscles tensed, hard as the earth beneath you as he waited for whatever you were going to say next. “You’ve become probably my best friend… There’s no one I’d rather be roommates with than you. Besides, who else is going to tolerate your Soulsborne marathons and hipster lumberjack wardrobe?”

A long, low growl emanated from him but it dissolved into laughter when he saw your expression and he shook his head. “I can’t believe I was so chicken about you knowing…”

“I can’t believe you looked like you pissed yourself a minute ago!”

His eyes flashed openly gold now and he huffed, “I did not…”

“You totally did. Anyway, I’m glad you told me. But you know that means I’m going to want to know all the details.”

“I think I’ll save that for another day,” he said as he reached for the s’mores beside him.

‘Another’ day turned out to be a week after you’d helped him move all his boxes into your room. He was lying on his back on his bed, his arms folded up behind his head, one knee bent, the other leg stretched out, foot dangling off the end of the mattress. You glanced across the room at him from where you had your laptop on your knees and your headphones on, working on the last tweaks of the next assignment due. He looked tense, even though he wasn’t really doing anything in particular.

Removing your headphones, you murmured, “Lowe? Everything alright?”

“Mmm,” he half growled. A moment later he heaved out a huge sigh and said, “No. Full moon’s tomorrow night. I always get kind of… cranky around now.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

Whatever you’d thought he’d say, you hadn’t expected the long, low moan that escaped him. It was not an innocent noise. Breathing through his mouth in soft, quiet pants, he didn’t look at you, but you sensed that his eyes were glowing.

“Lowe?”

“No,” he said. “Not unless you want to take whatever this is between us somewhere else…”

You bit your lip. “You mean…?”

“It would probably take the edge off if we slept together, yes,” he said bluntly. “But if you don’t want that, then I’m hardly going to push…”

“I like it when you’re pushy,” you countered, setting your laptop aside and staring him in the eye.

His pupils blew wide and he raised his nose. “Fuck,” he cursed. “Oh… fuck, you’re beautiful.”

With a smile, you crossed the room to him as he sat up, watching your every move with unwavering, lupine focus. “Let me help you out, big guy,” you crooned playfully and he twitched his lip in a possessive snarl, eyes golden and locked on the curve of your neck.

“Last chance,” he said. “I don’t want you regretting crossing this line with me.”

“You’ve got super-human senses, Lowe,” you said, playing with the hem of your shirt. His gaze darted instantly to the movement, transfixed by the glimpse of skin beneath your top. “You must know how I feel about you by now…”

“Yes, but lusting after someone and doing something about it is different when they’re your friend… I don’t want you to feel like I’m putting pressure on you…”

In answer, you reached out and trailed your fingertips up his neck, scratching him a little bit and making him growl again, and as you finished with a single finger drawing a line up his throat and under his chin, he shivered, as if barely holding himself back. “Why don’t you put just the right amount pressure on me… here?” you said, licking your lips as you climbed into his lap, straddling his thick thighs and running your palms over the softness of his stomach.

His jaw was soft, mouth open as he panted openly, and beneath you as you ground your hips to emphasise your question, you felt his hard cock.

A heartbeat later, he’d clamped his hands under your thighs and stood up. Lowe dropped you onto the bed with the perfect mix of recklessness and carefulness and lunged for you. He peppered and mouthed kisses down your neck, tugging at your skin with his canines, biting at your earlobe, his short beard burning and scratching your skin deliciously, and all the while he ground his cock against your thigh through his jeans.

It clearly wasn’t nearly enough, and it wasn’t long before you were both naked on his bed, and he had his mouth on you, his hands spreading your legs wide as he used the strength in his arms that his softer body belied. “Don’t come yet,” he rasped between strokes of his tongue. “Not til I say…”

“Oh,” you gasped, fighting the rising wave of heat that swept up your body, tingling under your skin, at that command. You tried, you really did, but in a mere few strokes of his tongue, you came with a cry against the heat of his mouth, bucking while he held you down and pulled you against his mouth to press his tongue tight against your throbbing clit.

When he pulled back, looking extremely smug about himself and his talents, you saw that his canines had lengthened and his features had become a little less… human.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he said, clearly still enjoying the taste of you on his lips.

“Will you hurry up and fuck me?” you pouted, and he snarled.

“Such a brat,” he laughed, but he didn’t waste any time either.

—

I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

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#werewolf #male werewolf #werewolf x reader #exophilia #monster boyfriend #male werewolf x female reader

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klavscaroline · 4 years

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Winners of the Wanderlust Betting Pool - @lublblubl

Thank you so much to everyone who participated in the Wanderlust Betting Pool. In return, @bellemorte180 and I decided to make a mini drabble and edit of their choice for the winners.

Prompt: Something really fluff in the Game of Thrones universe

Written by @bellemorte180 | Edit by @klavscaroline

Casterly Rock was massive and the heights of the cliffs always made those who gazed into the Sunset Sea feel a drop in their stomach. It was made of dusty tan stone and the waves of the sea crashed into the base, hiding pointed rocks and sharp edges under the water. Caroline stood on the Cliffside, gazing at the sunset and wondering if this would be one of the last few times she would have the pleasure of seeing it.

Caroline was a Lannister and this was her home, the blood of the lion coursing through her veins. She had been raised on the rock, studied everything that would make her fine lady in those hals and all of her favorite memories lingered in those waves. Despite all of that, she knew that she would one day leave it; for she was a woman. It was her older brother Damon who was to inherit the house seat and name; Stefan his successor until Damon had children. Perhaps that is why Caroline and Damon always had such a rocky relationship. He was to inherit because he was the eldest male while Caroline would be pawned off to some high lord as his wife.

But are you being pawned off, Caroline? Are you really that sad about your intended groom?

She was pulled from her thoughts as a nose from a direwolf nudge her hand, begging to be petted. Direwolves were not native to the Westerlands and only one had ever set foot in it. Caroline looked down at the intimidating beast, with its grey fur, blue eyes and its massive size. She smiled wildly and began scratching the wolf behind his ears, knowing full well that he could rip the throat out of anyone who dared cross him. Perhaps that was the reason she was so fond of him. If the direwolf had found her, that only meant that Klaus was here.

“He always did like you more than me, even when we were children.” A gruff voice sounded and Caroline turned to see her intended staring at her with a penetrating gaze. He was taller than her but only by an inch or so. His hair had that short and curly with a light blonde tint to it that his mother’s family, the Targaryens, were famous for. He had ice blue eyes that Caroline knew he inherited from his father and she swore she saw the depths of winter inside them. “I always did like you in blue.”

Caroline looked down at the soft blue gown she wore. It was made of light fabric that had silver designs stitched into it. Her sleeves were wide and held a slit that allowed her arms to be free as the silk fabric flowed in the breeze from the crashing sea. Her silver corset was tied around her waist as though it was made of the armor knights wore when they rode into a tourney. Caroline would never admit it aloud but she had chosen this dress and color specifically because she knew he was coming.

“You’re here.”

“Well, we are to be married, are we not? It would be rather rude of me not to show to the wedding.” He teased her and Caroline gave a laughter that brought the dimples in his cheeks out to play. He looked out into the sea and Caroline noticed the serene look upon his face. He was happy and knowing the tortured life he had prior to her meeting him, it made Caroline happy to see it. “I always loved it here. We will be back. I promise you that.”

“You were fostered her as a child Klaus, I would hope you loved it here.” Caroline told. She remembered the first time she laid eyes on Niklaus Stark (nee Snow). He was the bastard turned legitimized son of a Targaryen woman, whose other children belonged to her brother-husband Mikael Targaryen, and Ansel Stark. Caroline was six years old and he was eight. At first, they bickered and fought like the worst of them but when Damon had taken a joke to far, it was Klaus who stood up for her. Since then, the two were inseparable and Caroline cried on her fifteenth birthday when Klaus was being sent back to Winterfell to take his place as heir.

“It wasn’t Casterly Rock that I loved Caroline. Surely you’ve discovered that by now. As if my letters were not clue enough.” Klaus told her and a mischievous smirk played on his lips. Caroline blushed at the memories of the letters they had exchanged over the years. If her brother knew of them, she was sure that she would have gotten a severe punishment. Those letters were locked away in her trunks, prepared to travel to the North with her. “You could have made me love the mysteries of Asshai, Caroline. The location matters not, as long as you are there.”

“You always were one for pretty words and prettier pictures.”

“Pretty as they are, it does not make them any less true.” Klaus told her and leaned down to kiss her lips gently, the direwolf bemoaning the sight in jealousy. The wolf was always far more protective of Caroline than Klaus, even when they were children. “The North is cold, brittle and harsh but I have faith that you will thrive there Caroline. We will make Winterfell our home. We will fill the walls with children and the woods with wolves.”

“Will there be dragons?”

“If my sister makes an appearance, I’m sure.” Caroline chuckled, all but clapping her hands at the thought. Rebekah was a force to be reckoned with, having nurtured and hatched five dragon eggs since the age of twelve. Caroline had met them once when they had flown over Casterly Rock when she wanted to meet her brother. “Although I’m more concerned with the lion that will roam the walls and warm my bed.”

“A lion?” Caroline asked, ignoring his implication of their marriage bed. If their letters were any indication, Caroline knew that he had fantasized about having her for years and she still could feel the bruising passion of his lips pressed against hers as he said goodbye to her on these very rocks nearly five years previously. “You make me sounds so fearsome.”

“But you are, Sweetheart. You have the heart of a lion and even my sister, who I’m sure could breathe fire if she tried, was impressed by you.” Klaus kissed her again and Caroline marvelled in the feeling. “I’ve loved you since we were children and I know that you will be a fearsome Lady of Winterfell. Personally, I cannot wait to hear you roar.”

#klaroline #kcedits #tvdedit #toedit #klaroline fanfiction #klaus mikaelson #caroline forbes #tvd #the vampire diaries #game of thrones #kcxgot #mine #ffrecs #ff: game of thrones #ff: drabble #ff: pre relationship #ff: fluff #that last line tho!

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thewarriorandtheking · 3 years

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Mistletoe

Imagine what would you do if you saw the King walking under mistletoe...

A bit of Warrior and The King holiday fluff I wrote last year...revised to flow better (because I will never stop editing).

Enjoy!

The Warrior and The King Masterlist

*******************************************

Balin stowed the last parcels in the wagon and climbed onto the seat, moving to the middle to make room for Thorin who stepped up behind him. Fili picked up the reins and whistled to the ponies, guiding them toward the city gates. The wagon creaked as the wheels rolled through the ice on the puddles in the road, clouds of steam from the pony’s breath swirled around their heads, forming ice crystals in their furry ears.

It was a crisp midwinter day; they had started out from Erebor in a flurry of snowflakes but over the day the skies had cleared. Now the sun was just setting, bathing the Lonely Mountain in a soft lavender glow, the land sleeping under its white blanket. Balin looked over at Thorin, his beard buried in his fur coat, his face grim. The King had been in a murderously dark mood for months now, Balin had convinced him to come to Dale today hoping a change of scenery might lift his spirits. Thorin had brightened up negotiating with the traders, but now it looked like his black mood was reasserting itself. Balin worried at the grip this dark humor seemed to have on his King. He had always felt Thorin’s recovery from dragon sickness had been too quick, his worst fear was it would one day reassert itself.

They made their way slowly through the streets of Dale. It was the day before the midwinter holiday of Men and the streets were crowded. As they passed through a neighborhood with many inns and public houses, they were stopped by a herd of cattle being driven up a cross street. Balin was talking to Fili about trade deals when he felt a breath of wind and looked over to see Thorin was no longer sitting next to him. Surprised, he looked around and saw him hastening down the side street toward a large public house at the end.

“We seem to have lost the King,” he said. Where is he going? “Your young eyes are better than mine, what is the name of that pub?”

“I do not think it is the pub that caught his eye,” Fili said, smiling crookedly. “There is a tall black horse tied up at the rail.”

Balin could just make out a black horse in the fading light. “Are you sure?”

Fili shrugged. “Looks like her saddle, and there are not any horses like that north of Rohan.”

Balin shook his head. “This is not good, there are many things that need the King’s attention in Erebor!”

Fili laughed, punching the older Dwarf in the arm. “Cheer up! At least my uncle will be in a good mood!”

Thorin had been idly wondering if he could make up an excuse to stay in Dale. The weight of his kingdom had been sitting very heavily on him lately, sometimes he felt as if it was crushing him. The demands on his time were endless and Shurri seemed to be going out of her way to make his life difficult. Even forging offered him little relief. He had enjoyed getting out of his city, now he felt like staying for a few days. When the wagon stopped, Thorin was idly looking around when to he spotted what looked like Kaylea Wolf’s horse. He was off the wagon before he even thought about what he was doing. When he drew closer he could see it was definitely her horse, there was no mistaking her saddle. He strode up to the inn and pushed the door open.

The place was pleasantly warm after walking in the chill air. The crowd inside seemed to be mostly tradesmen; armorers, masons, leatherworkers, a few who looked like woodsmen. As Thorin’s eyes swept the room he spotted Kaylea Wolf at a table in the corner near the hearth, the hood of her coat covering her golden hair. She was studying a piece of parchment in her hand. As Thorin started to walk across the crowded inn he became aware the place had fallen silent. It was not every day that the King Under the Mountain showed up at the local pub. Thorin knew he should probably be more cautious, but right now he only had eyes for the woman he loved. As the hush fell over the room Kaylea looked up, her face surprised at first, then melted into a wide smile. She held her hand up and Thorin paused. He heard some whispering from the Men at the nearby tables, pointing at something over his head. He looked up to see a sprig of some plant with small green leaves tied to the beam above him with a bright red ribbon. Then Kaylea was in his arms, her hood thrown back, silver beads in her hair glittering in the lamplight. Thorin drew her mouth down to his, feeling all the worries and frustrations of the last months fading away, he knew only the taste of her mouth, the feel of her body against his, the desert smell of her skin. It was a very long moment before he drew back, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead to hers.

“My love…I cannot believe you are here,” he whispered. “It is all I have wished for these many months.”

“Congratulations, your majesty,” said a tall man in weathered clothing sitting at a nearby table. He raised his mug in a toast and drank.

Thorin eyed the greenery over his head. “I do not know this tradition of Men,” he said. “Perhaps you can enlighten me.”

“If you kiss a lady under the mistletoe it is said she will be your wife,” the man replied. “And your love will long endure.”

Thorin glanced up, then smiled widely at Kaylea. “If that is the case, I will kiss you again! Just to be sure.” He pulled her close, aware of the whispers around them, but not really caring. Suddenly the bell rang at the bar and the pub came to life, Men jumping up from their tables to shout drink orders to the barkeep, the Dwarf King and his warrior woman quite forgotten. Thorin looked over to see Balin sliding a stack of coins to the innkeeper. The old Dwarf crossed the room, setting three mugs of ale on Kaylea’s table.

“Master Balin, it is good to see you again,” Kaylea told him. Thorin slid onto the bench next to her, running an arm around her shoulders, she snuggled against him, her hand caressing the inside of his thigh.

Balin smiled at her. “It is always good to see you, lass.” He liked Kaylea Wolf almost from the moment he met her, and he never tired of looking at her. Many years had passed since their first meeting on the road to Rivendell yet she was completely unchanged, her face smooth, her hair untouched by grey. It seemed his notion that she was of Elven blood was true after all. This was not the best time for her to make an appearance, but if anyone could draw Thorin out of his black mood it was her. Sometimes Balin chided himself for not encouraging her to marry Thorin all those years ago. It would not have been the right choice politically, but it would have been the right choice for the King.

Fili had parked the wagon and joined them, glad to see a smile on his uncle’s face again. They spent a merry evening catching up, Kaylea wanted to know all that had happened in Erebor and the Dwarves were curious to hear her news from the South. Finally, as the evening crowd began to thin, Balin stood up buttoning his coat.

“We should get back,” he told the King.

Thorin dismissed him with a wave. “You go ahead, I will catch up in a day or two,” he said. “I think I will stay here for the winter holiday.”

Balin gave him a reproachful look. “You have a formal feast for the princes of the Blue Mountains tomorrow. And your cousins from the Iron Hills should have arrived today.”

Thorin scowled at the old Dwarf. “So, make up an excuse! Shurri will be more than happy to preside over any formal occasion.”

Balin looked to Kaylea for help, but she only smiled at him and shrugged. “Perhaps you could delay the feast for a few days,” she said, looking at Thorin. “If it is what the King wishes.”

Balin sighed. “Well, I suppose I do have the ride back to Erebor to think of something.” He gave the King a reproachful look. “You owe me one, laddie. Or I should say, another one.”

Thorin chuckled. “Put it on my tab.” He watched Balin and Fili leave, then turned to Kaylea. “My love, do you happen to know if there is a room nearby where we could have some…supper?” His fingers traced the skin of her stomach under her tunic.

“Upstairs,” Kaylea answered. “This place has excellent rooms, one has a view of Erebor.”

Hours later, Kaylea rolled over to watch Thorin as he walked across the room to stoke the fire. As she had promised the room was large and well-appointed, the bed soft as a cloud; it was one of only two rooms at the top of the inn. From the windows the gates of Erebor could be clearly seen, the braziers along the top brightly lit. Kaylea noticed Thorin had gained some weight since he had been king, no longer the thin warrior she had met on the road to Rivendell. She decided to tease him about it, but not tonight. Her eyes traveled down his body, lingering on his mane of dark hair, his wide shoulders, strong arms scarred from battles and years of working hot metal, the curve of his back, the thick muscles in his legs.

Feeling her eyes on him, Thorin looked over at her. “Are you watching me?”

“Just enjoying the view.”

Thorin chuckled. He went to the window, studying the gates of his city in the moonlit vale. For the first time in months he felt a little distance between himself and all his responsibilities. After a moment he turned back toward the bed, looking down at his feet. “I am afraid I do not cut quite as dashing a figure as I once did.”

Kaylea smiled at him. “You need to start training again. I decided to tease you about that tomorrow.”

Thorin slipped back into bed beside her, pulling her close. “Is that so? Then tomorrow I will tease you about your clothes.” The fact that Kaylea always wore her black fighting clothes had always been a sore spot for him. She had a few dresses in her wardrobe in Erebor, he wished she would bring some new ones. “Do you not have tailors in your land that can make you something different?”

“Is it decreed in Erebor that the King should have three helpings at every meal?”

“Actually, it is four. But I will resolve to only have two if you let me order you some new dresses.” Smiling, he brushed her hair away from her face. “Tell me about this winter holiday of Men.”

“This is the holiday that marks the new year for Men,” Kaylea said. “The shortest day of the year has passed and the days are starting to grow longer. It is a time to gather with your family, exchange presents. People decorate their homes and enjoy a feast. There are many little traditions this time of year, it is the only time you will find mistletoe indoors.”

The King laughed. “You stopped me when I was standing under it,” he said. “Does that mean you do want to marry me?”

“I told you before it is not my destiny to be married, but I hope our love will always remain strong.”

“And I told you I will not take no for an answer. One day you will be my wife,” Thorin replied. He stroked her back with his fingers. “You said it is a time for gift-giving, did you bring me a present?”

Kaylea smiled mischievously, taking his hand and guiding it between her legs. “You already opened it.”

“Mmmm…exactly what I wanted! How did you ever guess?”

#fanfiction #thewarriorandtheking #thorin x oc #thorin fanfic #tolkien fanfiction #the hobbit #lord of the rings #middle earth #true love #thorin #christmas story

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husky-twst-and-obeyme · 4 years

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The Brothers reacting to MC if they would of turned into an Animal(Bunny Edition)

(I personally think MC would of been a bunny for lust sake or a Ram because of the icons XD I might do a ram version too since MC would act differently) (I looked up Bunny behavior to help give me ideas ) Warning: Slight NSFW and suggestive

Story: After you guys try to settle things , after when Mammon and Satan broke the Antidote, you felt strange. It was a mix of dizzy and small bit of arousal (not as much as Asmo but enough to be noticeable if you pay attention). Suddenly a fog blew up around you and you’ve turned into an animal! More specifically a bunny, I guess the potion just took longer for humans? Then you realized that you were surrounded mainly by carnivores who weren’t mainly hungry but “thirsty” “I am so screwed-” Lucifer

-As much as he can control his animal instincts, his lust and love for you are harder -He tends to keep his arms around you and make glares at anyone who comes close -He tends to growl if any of the brother’s touch you and barks to show his dominance -He loves to nuzzle into your neck because of how fluffy you’ve gotten -he’s a little touchy but won’t go too far if you’re uncomfortable -sometimes you huddle of to him because of how warm he is -You would stomp your foot around him and he’d just be confused as well as when you hopped -When Lucifer is busy for whatever reason at this time, you nip at him , you loved the attention he gave you -he’d be slightly irritated but he would pet your head to calm you down but it makes him have his urges again -the night is when things get more interesting -When you walk through through the halls and to Lucifer’s room to check on him ,all you see are dark glowing eyes within the dark and the moonlight hits part of him perfectly -Not knowing what you should do, all you did was froze -He got up slowly approaching you like a wolf ready to pounce on his prey -”Tonight , you’ll be mine and only mine..~”

Mammon

-When he was that you were a bunny, he lowkey wanted you in a bunny suit but he didn’t want the others to see that -He would purr against you and slightly beg for your pets especially on his ears -you thought it was adorable and you rubbed yourself onto to him so that he has your “scent” -He finds you rubbing on him weird since he has no idea what it means but she cuddles after , so he won’t complain too much -Sometimes he has to hold back on himself because his animal instinct make him want to bite her mixed along with his “other “ form of biting -he lunges at you playfully when you least expect it -you finds the most comfortable place on him is his lap -he feels way too many emotions but he just puts his head on your back so no one sees him look like a tomato -When night dawns, you say goodnight but he grabs your hand -you were surprised but looking to his eyes, they were sharp and filled with lust -”wouldn’t want you to be alone tonight...why don’t you come to my room..?~”

Levi -He’s so happy he’s not he only herbivore -He’s also excited to see you wear cute animal ears and tail, touching your fluffy bunny tail was so tempting but he figures it might be the equivalent of you sexually, which he what he lowkey wants to do -He tries to lay his head on your head and have you secure, he doesn’t trust his brothers and he sure as hell doesn’t want them near you -you two have urges to eat some lettuce and leaves -”I want some carrots” “hmm..well you could have my carrot...”not thinking what he said “what?” “NOTHING-” You actually did hear what he said , so you start circling yourself around him without saying anything (This is how bunnies says “I wanna bang”) -he’s confused but is bashful with your touch -At night, He stuck around with you and he didn’t take his arms off of you -”would it be alright if we sleep together..?”

Satan

-He was quite excited to see you join them , as well as his new cat toy -at first, he playfully scratches at you to see your reaction -Sometimes chases you especially since you have a puffy tail that looks like a puff cat ball -He’d love to cuddle you and would hiss slightly if anyone tries to interrupt him , You’re his after all -you would nuzzle your face onto him and he would purr very loudly , sometimes adding a “meow” -His favorite place to lay on you is your lap , loves to snuggle into your thighs because he knows you get flustered by it -You don’t admit it but you just love Satan being a cat, it’s too perfect for him especially since he loves cats -At times, you get a feather toy and watch him as he helpless chase it , not with his free will -He’ll pick up on your bunny behavior since he has studided human world animals before and well aware of your “signals “to him -at night , you wonder where Satan walked off , you checked his room but as soon as you entered. The door closed -you turn seeing a very lustful satan -”you’ve fallen under my trap~ Let’s see you try to escape this one~”

Asmo

-let’s be real, animal or not, he was already turned on by you anyways- -He loves to play with your soft bunny ears and cuddle you all day -any time you try to escape, you’ll all caught in his bear hugs -as much as his cuddle can be “slightly” painful now , you boop your nose on him, to distract him slightly so he’ll let go, but that just makes him squeeze you more , rip MC Bunny -He wants to take selfies of you two with #cutieanimals , he took around 80 photos -He wants you to try out many cloths that would be fitting for you in your bunny look, *cough*as well as some lingere*cough* *cough* -He still takes baths with you but he’s a little more touchy, aware that your tail and ears are a little sensitive -You actually enjoy what he’s doing to you but it’s a little embarrassing to admit it -as night comes, Asmo texts you to come to his room -you already know what’s gonna happen , he’s the avatar of lust, what do you expect? -As you enter, you’re not surprised he’s slightly naked but has honey as well which highly made you question what he would do -” come dear~ I see how you’d taste with this~” he giggled

Beel

-He the sight of you as a bunny , not because you look tasty but because of how cute you look -he tried eating some of the raw meats they had at the house so he wouldn’t try to eat you -what he really wanted was your attention -he was purr himself against you so that you would pet him, you do so everytime since he’s so cute ! -He got to feel your ears and they’re super soft that he didn’t even believe it -He’d try to offer some food to you, which was mainly meat but you had to decline since- well you’re a rabbit- he might as well say “eat yourself” -If you were bored, you’d scratch his ears or play with his tail ,he seems to really enjoy you doing that --He doesn’t get jealous a lot but doesn’t like when you give his brothers more attention or pets -You always cuddle him to reassure him -at night, you were already in his room with him , he’s not the most sexual but he does get a little intimate with you “so..what do you want to do..?”

Belphie

-When he saw you turn into a bunny, he imdately prounced onto you and took of with you -He doesn’t like you being around his brothers before but now as a fox, he’s more territorial of you now -he’s just as sleepy as before but he keeps his tail wrapped around you to stay in place -He’d lighly make a fox noise(i dunno how to describe it-) and you found it so adorable! He’d be embarrassed immensely -If any of the brothers come up to the attic, where you two are are , he try to claw at them kinda protecting you -he would touch your tail because the soft touch pleases him Sometimes, you would get huffy if he wouldn’t stop touching your animal parts , so you’d nip at him , which he lowkey liked so he kept touching -when it was closer to nighttime, he was more active at night , so you knew he’s be mischievous -As expected, he was over top of you with a smirk -”so, how about a game of Fox and Rabbit..?~”

(Hope you enjoyed! Leave some suggestioneds!)

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hotsexydorks · 3 years

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In the theme of Christmas how about Derek cheating getting fucked by a mall santa

Just in time for Christmas.. right?

Santa’s Little Secret : Derek/Chris

“Come on Der, it’s tradition. Snow. Hot Chocolate. Matching pyjamas. Red noses from the cold. Old man in red suit, and taking pictures with said man.” Stiles listed as he was push the wolf past the automatic doors of the mall. “Besides it’s not like it’s believing in this whole thing it’s ore just for fun!” The human was smiling as he tried to manoeuvre through the crowd with his boyfriend.

Christmas. The time of cheery smiles and energetic people, everything able to turn on a dime. It was practically made for Stiles. The already bouncing male was all too happy when Christmas came around, today was no exception.

Derek had given his boyfriend one day where they would do all the younger wanted. The usually scowling grumpy and heavy browed wolf standing out more than usual between the crowds of bustling people.

“You promised me, besides this is like the last thing on the list. A picture of you with the big man in red.” Stiles chuckled as he looked around the mall trying to find the grotto they had set up in the mall.

“Fine, one picture. Then we go back to the den, Peter and the rest are coming in today and I want to make sure we get there before them.” Derek reminded him as the pair passed all sorts of people scrambling for deals and sales, buying in secret so they could hide the surprises for their loved ones.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14053365/chapters/69417057

When they eventually reached the line in the mall Stiles as ecstatic all because they had; one, finally found it, and two, there wasn’t much of a line. It being the season Stiles had planned for there to be a line out the wing but instead there were only a few families there for photos.

“See just a few pictures are we’re out of here.” Stiles said reassuring him as they waited in line with the other people. As they tailed the end of the line one of the ‘elves’ came up and closed off the velvet rope behind them signalling the actual end of the line. “And look we got here just in time before ‘Santa’ takes his break.”

“Stiles?” The elf looked up with a smile and a chuckle while he recognised his best friend.

“Scotty?” Stiles said with a wide smile noticing who was talking to him. “I thought you said you were going to be helping Argent out for something this week?”

“I am.” Scott said laughing as he pointed to the santa that sat in the seat at the other end.

“That’s Chris!?” He said in a shouted whisper.

Derek’s eyebrow cocked when he looked down at the santa sitting in the chair. He squinted while he tried to picture the hunter underneath the whole ensemble, thinking that the hunter was probably as amused by this whole thing as the wolf was.

“Yup, apparently he owed someone a favour so you’re looking at the Beacon Hills new Santa.”

“And… about the stuff… is it.. Natural?” Stiles asked as he peered over the crowd trying to get a good look at the man.

“Stuff?”

“Yeah, you know…” Gesturing in circles on his stomach Stiles motioned wondering how the athletic hunter fit the Santa mould.

“Oh! Oh!!!” Scott laughed as he shook his head walking with them down the line as they got closer. “Nah, they had some suits with some extra padding. Looks real enough for the kids though.” The brown haired wolf chuckled while he pointed to some of the pictures that hung on the wall showing off the sizes and poses people could get.

That alone was enough to cause Stiles to break out in a loud laugh while he pictured the hunter eating and eating just so that he could put on a red suit so people could have their pictures taken with him, a fierce dichotomy between his once hidden life.

“Is Isaac helping out as well then?” Stiles asked looking around trying to find the beta wolf who never seemed to be far behind Scott.

“Yeah he’s operating the camera inside the house, they had to get him extra long sleeves cause the costumes were too short.” Scott giggled while they got closer.

“No way!!” Stiles said amazed as his eyes went wide before pointing to the side. “They’ve got those limited edition funkos….” The human looked up at his boyfriend the plan already forming in his eyes trying to line everything up.

“Stiles..” Derek said warningly not wanting to do this on his own let alone do it at all.

“I know. I know. But this is the last thing I promise! You won’t even have to get me anything as a gift! You just stay here.. And I’m going to go find the guys I want and you can come find me after it!” Already disregarding the plans and everything he had said about how ‘super fun’ the pictures would be.

“It’ll be so quick you won’t even notice it, besides it’s just Chris. You know him!” Stiles ducked under the boundary rope and popped back up taking all his things with him. Leaning over the rope he pressed a quick kiss into Derek’s cheek before driving off like a whirlwind. “Love you!” He called while he darted through the crowd his smile practically beaming off the back of his head.

“............” The silence between both Scott and Derek was palpable. Neither wolf able to stop Stiles on his rampage of nerdom.

Letting out a sigh Derek broke the silence looking around for where he could break the line and just leave, his mind in two about what he should do. Keep the promise or just go after his boyfriend instead who had probably in all likelihood forgotten about the pictures. But before he could lift the rope Derek’s own hand stopped him. A promise was a promise after all.

“I know how you feel.” Scott said with a knowing nod as he put his hand on the other’s back with a small smile, knowing exactly what it was like to be in the other’s shoes.

“Let’s just get this over with.” Derek added as it finally came up to his turn, stepping up the fake house and set towering over the things that were meant for children.

“Derek!” Chris said smiling from behind the beard he was wearing over his own.

“Argent.” The wolf nodded as he stood awkwardly on the fake floor and looking around.

“Let me guess. Stiles?”

“Stiles.” Derek answered simply nodding toward the other who had run off to a shop and was rummaging through shelves looking for all the items he could find.

“Well let’s get this done with.” The man said spreading his legs and tapping his lap making a space for the wolf. “Faster we take these pictures the faster you can forget about it .” The hunter told him with a hint of a joke in his tone.

Nodding in agreement Derek moved and went to sit in the man’s lap sitting in the least compromising position he could. Turning to face the camera manned once again by Scott in the elf suit seeing his disappointed face.

“Come on Derek, sit properly.” The wolf told him as he stood up from behind the lens to try and point were he should go.

“Here let me help you.” The older man said from underneath the wolf. Putting his hands on Derek’s body he pulled at him and shuffled the wolf further onto his lap but when it came time to move his hands away they stayed.

The stories of Derek’s cheating had become legendary, so much so that they didn’t even need to mention the wolf’s name. It had become common knowledge and almost akin to one of Beacon Hills’ famous folklore. That was if folklore was about sex and there being a muscle bottom that was desparate for cum and cock. So desparate that he seemed to never tire, never seemed to get enough and never turning away a man that knew of his hunger.

It had become so well known, so widely spread, that the tale of this muscle bottom was often talked about in bars, clubs, no where more than in some gay clubs where there were rumoured sightings. People said that there would never be another one like him in their lifetime again.

The catch? To have a chance at this stud of a cock hound slobbering over you was twofold.

Both were sworn to secrecy. The first was that they were never tell anyone who his was, his name, his face, anything. They could tell people about what he did, in fact by how often people raved about their experiences it almost seemed like a third condition. But they could never say his name to anyone, tell anyone who is, point him out or even hint at how he was.

With Derek’s hearing it was easy to spot the liars and the people who had tempted fate with a few choice words.

The second was that they could never mention his boyfriend, his relationship. Derek’s own relationship had to stay a secret. He never said who his boyfriend was, just that he had one that that he couldn’t find out. That was his biggest secret. That beyond being a hungry slut for cock, he was also a cheater. He wasn’t just a slut. He was also willing to push everything aside for the promise of it, no matter who was offering him the cock.

With those two things it was pretty easy to keep track of his rules, but he wasn’t alone. After all there were very few that fucked Derek and stayed away. So to help him Derek decided that he needed to bring some people in to help him. People close to him.

Thus the wolf gained some ears and eyes beyond his own. From the county department, to the schools, the clubs, the bar. Derek had informants everywhere that fed him back information that he, of course, repaid with sex, and who better to be one of Derek’s favourites than his boyfriend’s best friend Scott.

Once that had been established Derek’s reputation grew and grew until it became something of an urban story. With not having all the weight on his own shoulders Derek could focus more and more on his own pleasure and getting more of it where ever he could.

Holding Derek’s hip in one hand and the other hidden behind his back, Chris was grinning to himself while he nodded at Scott the wolf smiling back giving him the signal. A signal that told the hunter the coast was clear for his hand to slip down the wolf’s jeans kneading at the soft cheeks.

“That’s it, Derek. Just sit back. Don’t be shy now. If children can pose with a stranger surely you can pose with an old friend, right?” The hunter smiled as he leaned in closer to Derek. Pushing the red fabric against Derek’s back while his hand dug deeper until it found the outline of the string of Derek’s underwear.

Of course the wolf still had regular underwear and clothes that took up his wardrobe and closets but that wasn’t the proper clothes for a slut like him. Something that his ‘friends’ like to remind him of all the time. Over his time meeting with different men and having sex with all of them he had been both gifted and given outfits to wear. By now the wolf had a whole secret wardrobe, there wasn’t anything he didn’t wear for the promise of cock.

Everyday since then Derek had never worn regular underwear, instead of boxers or regular boxer briefs the wolf wore all manner of items. Jockstraps, thongs, lacy see through briefs, easy access briefs, cumstained and crusted , written on or scented, anything was game enough if you could pleasure Derek enough and today was a thong day.

Feeling the fingers follow down the string to their treasure Derek had a blush growing on his face. He may have been a slut but that didn’t mean he wasn’t fazed by things. Just like how everyman’s cock was a different shape and had a different taste, everyman had different kinks and turnons. They might have all craved one thing but they all wanted it in different platters.

The flash of a camera had the green eyed wolf jolting back quickly in shock. Sitting deeper and pushing onto the fingers enough to let the hunter feel the tight heat and hungry hole on his finger tips.

“I’ve been hearing stories that there’s a loose slut on the prowl in these parts. A handsome man that was built like an adonis, his ass fat like some pumped slut. The image of a top, but really was the total opposite.” Chris started to whisper in Derek’s ears as he toyed with his hole. Feeding his fingers in and out, stretching them from side to side, getting two of his fingers all the way to the second knuckle. Testing just how their town slut was and he wasn’t disappointed.

“So I started to think, who out there is is a walking talking statue the male form. Someone who would want to keep their identity a secret. Then it hit me.” The man grinned as he shoved his fingers in deeper getting them all the way to the base knuckle. “But then I was offended, Derek. You’ve gone around an practically offered your cunt to every man, but didn’t even think about me? Your old friend?” Chris asked the wolf with his fingers growing stronger with every pulse he pushed into Derek’s ass.

“Chr--..” Derek softly moaned as his exterior was starting to break from the attention he was getting. But it wasn’t just the attention, it was the whole thing. Being in public, being able to be seen, having his ass played with just out of view, his boyfriend just out of view. He loved it.

“Shh.” Chris shoved his fingers in deeper, slamming his hand and fingering the slut wolf with ease. Working around the other’s barely admissible excuse of underwear the tiny strapped thong. “It’s time for you to pay up Derek, I think it’s my turn now.” The man said this time his mouth closer to Derek’s ear , far more friendly than any picture with a Santa should be.

That showed on the wolf’s face as well. With his blush on his cheeks the wolf’s eyes were getting glossy under touch of the man’s fingers opening him up. Feeling the digits at his hole but they weren’t alone. Soon the feeling of Chris’ growing cock was getting hard against the side of Derek’s ass. He knew what that meant, and it being a hunter, making it all the more forbidden made Derek’s heart race even more.

“Yes Mr.Argent.” Derek nodded while he put his back against the man’s chest and pushed his ass onto the fingers more. Riding his hips up and down as softly and slowly as he could while still getting pleasure from it. Wanting more and showing the man how hungry he was for him.

“Good, now step into Santa’s house. Santa has a nice big present for you to play with.” Pulling his fingers away from the other’s ass Chris stood up and started to walk into the grotto house without a word leaving Derek alone in the middle of the set with his jeans pushed down and his ass exposed, spilling out from where they were still tight on his body.

Not wanting to waste time Derek turned around and darted inside the house without so much as a look back for Stiles.

In the wooden house the male was met to a sight. Dressed like the inside of a cottage there were dim lights, a tree, a red rug, and at the center of the room was a large chair the exact replica of the one outside with the same ‘Santa’ sitting in it.

The only difference was that instead of sitting like a respectable Santa would Chris was now in his chair like a throne. His jacket was open, all the additional stuffing pulled away to reveal the hunter’s muscular but thin frame. His pants were open and pulled down with his hard cock sticking up from between his zipper. Leaking down from his tip to his shaft threatening to dirty the costume pants that he was wearing.

“You know what to do Derek.” Chris said smirking at the wolf his voice filled with lust and his body oozing arousal just as much as his cock was.

The sight had Derek licking his lips the moment he was able to take it all in. Dropping to his knees in front of the man Derek took the other’s cock in hand without a word, or even acknowledging it. He smiled as he dragged his tongue from the other’s balls all the way to the tip, collecting all the leaked precum on the way.

Taking Chris’ cock in his mouth Derek had his eyes up the entire time. Looking up at the older man’s eyes while his own were filled with hunger that he ignited.

“Your skills are legendary. I’ve heard many a tale about the quality of your holes, and it looks like they weren’t lying.” Taking Derek’s head in his hands Chris pushed the wolf down on his cock shoving his cock deeper and deep making the him take it as deep as he could. Watching him the entire time fascinated at another way that a wolf’s ability could be used.

Derek stayed on his knees taking the man’s cock and moaning around his length, it was thick and veiny. All those times meeting Derek had wondered what the hunter’s cock looked like, and it didn’t disappoint. With the cock out of his mouth the wolf started to kiss and run his lips against the underside of the man’s length. The tip of the cock rubbing down his face and spreading the joint wetness across his skin, smothering the man’s sex against his skin.. His eyes staring up and having the dirty conversation with Chris all without words.

That was until flash of light blinded the wolf momentarily taking out his vision. Blinking a few times for measure Derek looked up to see himself flanked by two wolfs in similar states as their ‘boss’. Standing beside them both of their cocks were out being taken care of with their owns hands while they watched, with one of the elves holding the camera that caused the flash taking the perfect picture of Derek’s show.

“He is here to take pictures after all. Why not take some special ones just for us.” Isaac said smiling pushing the camera away from his face and waving his cock around. The wolf’s senses tingling from the smell of three cocks being offered to him at once. Three tasty cocks and a chance for his own private photoshoot with them.

“Looks like our slut likes it.” Scott said as he wiped the leaking precum against Derek’s hair not wanting any of it to go to waste on the floor.

Smiling widely Derek reached up taking both the other cocks in his hands stroking them with glee. “Fuck yeah he does.” Derek said enthusiastically opening his mouth just in time for Chris to fill it back up again with cock.

“Then let’s get this party started.” The older man said taking a rougher approach to Derek’s throat. Knowing now that the wolf could take it he started to pummel into the the wolf’s throat with no holding back. Chocking him. Slapping his face with his balls. Tickling his skin with his pubes. All of it so that he could fuck the wolf’s throat like it was supposed to be used.

“Looks like he really wants to put on a show.” Scott said smirking. He wasn’t a stranger to Derek’s slutty side, after all being one of the Derek’s close eyes he knew very well what the wolf could do.

With another flash of the camera Derek looked up to see that they were being true to their word and taking some pictures. Excited and turned on by the prospect of his own collection Derek grinned taking turns on each of their cocks first moving on to Isaac’s cock and giving the beta the best blow job he had ever experienced.

Unlike the Alpha wolf Isaac hadn’t had the chance of experiencing Derek before. He had heard all about the exploits and even knew that it was him but he never acted on it till know. Until he heard Chris and Scott talking about him and how Chris would do nasty dirty things to the whore.

Which is how they ended up here. Scott might have broken the rules but he was sure this was a special occasion that Derek would thank him for. It was definitely something that Chris was going to thank him for if the look of pleasure on his face was anything to go by.

“Enough playing. Time for the main act.” Derek said pulling off of the male’s messy cock, his pants soaked and his face splattered with spit. Moving to get up Derek pulled his henley over his head grabbing it by the tight fabric and dropping it while he moved on to his pants next. Still lowered around his ass the wolf just pushed them down tearing them off his body while he exposed the small black thong he had on.

Showing off his underwear Derek pushed his pecs together and showed off his body knowing how much that people liked getting off on seeing the ‘total top’ slutting himself as an actual greedy bottom.

The wolf moved until he was pulling the thong aside and showing off his tight hole for the hunter. “I think Santa and his Elves deserves a treat for all his hard work.” Derek said as he walked closer and closer until he straddled Chris’ lap again but this time reverse cowgirl. Facing away from Chris the wolf was looking straight at the camera set up to capture all of the inside photos.

Stepping back and looking at the two other men Derek lined himself up to the other’s cock until he felt the man pushing up to meet his hole.

“My sentiments exactly.” Chris said his hands reaching around to fondle Derek’s chest, squeezing the wolf’s pecs while his cock was teased and tended to slowly.

Not wanting to be left out Scott and Isaac dropped their pants leaving their lower halves bare. Stepping into frame and giving Derek some cocks to play with while he sank back on the hunter’s own length.

Moaning loudly at the feeling of being filled yet again Derek bounced on the cock without waiting. The stretch burned but it felt good. Starting with a controlled bounce Derek moved just enough so that he could take both cocks in his hand again and stroke them without stuttering.

The thong that Derek wore was a small flimsy thong, the front pouch was barely secure enough to hold his cock. The only secure part of the thong was the string that slotted between his cheeks. Riding perky and tightly against his hole with each step. Basically naked the wolf’s hard cock was bouncing in the air while he rode the hunter’s cock.

Chris met some of Derek’s movements with thrusts of his own giving the wolf something more to moan about while he took both of the other cocks in his hands and mouth. With his hands up against Derek’s chest Chris pulled the wolf back. Sitting him deeper on his cock and fucking him harder with the new position.

Now that Chris had taken off his beard his mouth was free to kiss and lick at Derek’s neck. Teasing him and fucking the wolf deep.

“Oh.. fuck me.. Fuck me. Yess!!” Derek sat back in a blissful smile, his legs spreading as he showed off where the thick cock was pounding him open. Where the man’s heavy filled balls were slapping against him with each thrust.

“You know I never truely thought Derek would be the one, but now that I’m seeing him like this? How could he be anything different. “ Chris chuckled with a grunt while he pulled the beared male’s face aside and started to make out with him.

“Speaking of. Where is Stiles anyway?” Isaac chimed as he threw his head back with Derek’s hand squeezing every last bit of precum that was practically bordering on cum by now.

But the wolf couldn’t answer even when Chris gave him the opportunity. Pulling away the man pounded at Derek’s ass with more force. Taking his hands to Derek’s hips for a stronger hold the leader of his clan hit Derek’s hard switch.

His cock moved with a steady beat each one punctuated by by the wolf’s own slutty moans of pleasure, drooling and smiles.

“Bitch is too in heat to even answer back.” Scott chuckled as he brought his cock closer to Derek’s mouth , barely offering it to him before the wolf opened his mouth and swallowed it down.

“I think I saw him run off in the direction of that merch shop, probably arms deep in some deals for some pieces of plastic.” Chris chuckled loudly while his thrusts began to stutter and grow more ragged.

“Such a bad boyfriend for leaving this piece of ass all hungry and alone. Let’s make sure Derek remembers our time together.” Scott said as he picked up the remote trigger for the cameras.

All three of the men grinned widely taking their position and making sure that Derek and all of them were positioned perfectly and that he was looking the right way.

“Look into the camera Derek, time for some more pictures.” Chris said moaning against Derek’s neck and breathing heavily knowing that his orgasm was close.

“Smile!” Isaac said watching how they were all getting close and an posing almost perfectly.

On cue Scott started to snap shots of the four of them, all posing with Derek being fucked in the middle.

Timing them perfectly Scott made sure that they had one of Derek sucking each of the other wolfs’ cocks, each of them getting a turn. The next picture was with Derek throwing his head forward from Chris hitting his prostate repeatedly. The image showed Derek’s pleasure so perfectly that the sounds could almost be heard from it.

“Fuck.. I think it’s time for the last picture.” Chris pipped up his body sweating along with Dereks from their bodies fucking the entire time. He looked up at the boys and nodded at them while he urging them to finish with him.

“Got the perfect one.” Scott said as he pulled his cock from Derek’s hand and started to jerk off with his own touch. “You aim for his chest, I’ll get his face.” He told the beta wolf both of them taking a step closer so that their loads would land square where they were meant to.

“Ready?” Chris asked once before the man started to give all that he could to the wolf’s hungry hole, his balls pulling up and holding back as much as he could. Finally with a loud grunt the hunter pulled Derek in by his body and filling him up as much as he could.

The same moment the other two also shot their loads over Derek making a mess of the wolf’s face and body while Scott took the series of pictures. Derek’s smile growing wider and his own thong dirtying from his own cum being fucked out of him.

“We should do this again some time Derek.”Chris said rubbing the wolf’s ass with his hands while the pictures printed beside them.

Picking up the pictures Isaac and Scott grinned seeing how good they turned out. How all their faces were blurred out or obscured except for Derek. Derek’s face was front and center the face of pleasure on his face was unrestricted and fully showing.

A cock in his mouth, cum on his body, cum on his face. There was even a lucky shot with Derek’s hips raised showing the thick ‘Santa’ cock that was fucking him.

“Yeah, maybe I should take more pictures next time. These are hot.” The fucked wolf said grinning. Raising his hands to his chest Derek started to rub the cum into his skin, collecting it on his hands and cleaning them with his mouth. Cleaning up all the cum that he could taste , rubbing it down his down his face , through his beard and into his mouth.

“Oh yeah they are.” Isaac said laughing as he picked up one final picture showing Derek’s first photo, on his knees worshiping a cock that was as long as his head. Thick as his wrist and wetting his entire face. His face looking like he was drunk and high. The distinctive red pants and holiday decor all adding some context.

“Damn I don’t think I’ll be able to keep my dick down at that pack dinner later.. How the fuck do you do it?” Isaac asked Scott earning him a chuckle.

“Easy, just fuck him good and hard before it.” He smirked as he waved his softening cock. “But I think tonight we might just have a bit more fun with him. After all I think the one left tonight that hasn’t fucked him will be Peter, but I’m sure we could change that.” Scott said offering the last bits of his sticky cum on the tip of his cock.

“Fuck yeah.” Isaac agreed happily looking down at the older hunter that was leaning back in his chair lazily rocking Derek on his cock. “I think we might have a plus one as well.” He said nodding at the man’s direction.

“That’s fine with me.” Derek perked up with the idea of Chris joining them for dinner, another tasty cock for him to play with.

“Great, I’ll bring him over later on when I’ll coming over.” Scott said bringing the other the two pictures they had taken outside, everything looking normal with only a small blush on Derek’s face just like any other Santa photo.

Smiling widely at the pictures Derek licked the last bits of cum from his lips tugging at his bottom lip with a grin while he looked up at the men. “Sounds like a plan.” Derek said his ass already trying to milk another load from Chris’ cock at just the thought.

#Anonymous #Derek #Chris #Scott #Isaac #Scribbles #prompt #story sunday

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