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thot-writes · 8 months

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i just posted art of my werewolf tav & astarion so y’know what?? take this fic to go along w it. what would astarion/the gang do if u were a lil werewolf (i did not mean for it to get this long lol)

your vampire not-quite-boyfriend + the gang find out you’re a cheeky little pup (act i post-grove);

Lycanthropy wasn’t something you were born into like some. No, like most others bearing the curse you were infected with it. The transformation process was an excruciating, torturous one that is still branded into your very bones.

The bloodlust festers in you, day and night, like a splinter that’s burrowed too deep for you to dig out. It calls for you to rip, tear, dominate— kill. But you can suppress it. Mostly. You refuse to be one of the many werewolves that is controlled only by their base instincts.

But every full moon the beast blood takes you completely, and you have no choice but to transform. You never remember the night after you’ve turned back. Only brief snippets of red, pain, and fur.

Despite not tracking the stars, you can normally tell when a full moon’s coming because your body begins to ache, preparing itself to split open to birth the savage wolf that slumbers within. Usually you’d start your preparations to restrain yourself, to limit the carnage as much as possible.

But these aren’t usual times.

Three weeks ago you were captured from your home by mind flayers and infected with a tadpole, your entire world turned inside out with stranger things happening every day.

You now travel with a Sharran, a githyanki, two ticking time-bombs, a warlock, and a vampire.

One of their spawn, at least. It’s a good thing that in Faerûn, vampires and lycanthropes tend to be neutral towards each other — unlike what the romance novels would have you believe. Otherwise it’d make the regular sex you’re having with Astarion quite awkward.

You’d think that knowing all the sordid details about your travelling companions would bid you to confess your lycanthropy, but you could never find a way to bring it up.

Or, more accurately, you could bring it up you just didn’t want to. Not necessarily out of trauma, just convenience on your part. Confessing lycanthropy normally comes with questions, and the way you were turned is… kind of embarrassing, so you’re never keen to retell it.

But tonight, the moon will tell everyone for you. if you don’t get out in time.

The whole day your blood hammered in your flesh, your head splitting apart in a horrific headache and your bones feeling as if they could break and reshape at any moment. You lied to your companions, insisted you must’ve just drank too much last night at camp, and they bought it. Kind of. You hope.

You retired early for the day and whilst the others lounge about the camp you’re near biting your fingers off in uneasy anticipation of what’s to come. You need an excuse— any excuse to get the fuck out of here before the moon fully rises. You think you have an hour at most before you’re no longer you.

“My, but you’ve been looking ill all day, [Name]. I don’t recall you drinking that much last night.”

You almost jump out of your skin. Your heightened senses of smell and hearing usually help in preventing unpleasant surprises, but not today, not when you’re so on-edge. It was Astarion’s lilted voice that called from behind you. A sweet tune you’re all-too-happy to hear, in regular circumstances.

He gazes at you with that hard-to-read gleam in his eyes. The kind of gleam where you’re not sure if it’s because he knows something, is hiding something, or wants to tease you. You manage a shaky smile in response.

“You weren’t with me the whole night, Astarion. We slept separately,” you attempt.

“That night anyway,” he adds with a pretty little grin on his lips. You notice his gaze flickering over your body. “So you’re saying after I drank from you, you… what? Went back to your tent for some late-night binge drinking? Not that I’m surprised, you seem the type, but even still. Your hangover looks particularly… aggressive.”

You throw your hands up in an exaggerated shrug. “What, are you gonna throw an intervention for me? Gonna beat me up? Write me a letter about how much my drinking affects you?”

He chuckles. “Oh please, as if I care that much. I’m just saying that you seem a little sicker than alcohol would leave you.” He gasps, then presses a hand to his face. “What if you were poisoned? By someone in this very camp? How scandalous! My money’s on the gith.”

“If I was poisoned my money’s on you bitch.”

A grin. He always seems to smile so much in your presence. You wonder how much is real. You wonder if you’re overthinking it, or if you smile just as much as he does.

You’re ripped away from your thoughts as a terrible pain grips you. It takes all your strength not to double over right there— you’ve already drawn too much scrutiny, you don’t want more. You squeeze your eyes shut and hold your trembling hands still as the curse makes itself known. The pain you experience in transforming is what you’d imagine childbirth to be — if you gave birth to a baby out of every pore. You’ve only had this curse a scant few years, how have people managed to live entire lives with it?

Astarion notices your struggle. He tilts his head and looks on. “You really do seem like you’ve been poisoned. Or at least I hope that’s all it is. If you’re sick then I’m afraid you’ll be sleeping alone for a while longer yet, pup. I don’t want… whatever that is.”

You grit your teeth to prevent a cry. “I’m fi—iine!” you grunt. The pain lapses for a moment, this is your chance to leave. “I just— I have—uhh— really bad diarrhoea!”

“What?”

You make a show of holding your stomach and slouching. “Oh man it’s soooo bad right now, I’m probably gonna be shitting up a storm in the forest all night!”

“Gods above, please… spare me the details. Just go.” Astarion waves you off and grimaces at the mental image you’ve conjured for him.

“Okay, I better go have violent diarrhoea everywhere in the forest now— don’t follow me! Don’t look for me! Don’t let anyone look for me! I gotta go, goodnight! Don’t look for me!”

You give him no time to answer as you sprint into the wilderness. Your heart is hammering and your pulse quickening. You feel you only have a few more minutes until…

A scream escapes you before you can stop it, your skin is starting to bulge and split, revealing [colour] fur beneath it. No— not now, you’re still too close to camp— just hold on a little longer.

You gather all the strength you have, which is more than usual with the wolf so near, and run.

You’re deep in the wild now. Your screams are more frequent, your body produces sickening crunching sounds as the wolf starts its escape. You collapse to the forest floor, writhing in abject agony as your body tears itself apart. Transforming like this only ever takes a few minutes, but it always feels so infinitely long.

Soon your cries morph into a pained howl, and the birthing process is complete. Your mind has now been banished to the darkest recesses of you, and in its place is a beast.

It’s a blur each time you’re turned like this. When it’s of your own volition the process is simpler, quicker— though no less painful. You can maintain control if you focus hard enough. But the forced transformations are a different experience entirely. There is no control, only hunger. Only fangs, claws, and a deep, insatiable yearning for prey.

Astarion did as you asked. He didn’t search for you, not even when he heard that first scream. The thought of walking in on you… projectile excreting was enough of a deterrent to stay his curiosity.

But hours have passed since then. He couldn’t hear you, there was only quiet. When Gale asked where you were, he simply said you had taken ill. But now Astarion was the only one left awake, and there was still no sign of you.

You had been acting off all day. He didn’t believe it was simply a hangover, he’d seen many in his lifetime but they never caused anyone to disappear into the woods. As far as he knew.

But then… what was this odd subtle tightness settling in his chest? The thought that maybe something had happened to you, and you were no longer safe?

Could it possibly be that he was… worried about you?

He shakes his head. No, of course not. You’re nothing more than a target, a meat shield for if and when things go wrong. He didn’t have any feelings towards you, and certainly not enough to worry.

Astarion stays awake. Not for you, of course— perish the thought— he just wanted to get more reading done. Obviously.

Another hour passes.

Then one more.

Still nothing.

He’s coursing with anxious energy now and gets to his feet. What if you’d been turned into a mindflayer? What would that mean for the rest of them? Because of course it was his own well-being he was concerned for— definitely not yours!

He goes to the tent nearest to him, Lae’zel’s, and shakes her awake.

She grunts and sits up. “Chk, what is it Astarion? Why have you disturbed me?”

“[Name] still hasn’t returned, and dawn’s almost here,” he answers. His voice is a little shaky, but it’s probably because he’s a bit cold. “We should try to find them.”

Lae’zel nods curtly and begins to rise. She slings her sword over her back and says to Astarion, “Wake the others. If [Name] has become ghaik, we will need to put them down.”

A knot forms in his stomach as he turns to rouse the others. He finds himself hoping you haven’t been transformed— then quickly catches himself and buries the feeling.

He wakes them and explains the situation, and the group splits off into pairs to search for you; Wyll and Karlach, Shadowheart and Gale, Lae’zel and Astarion.

One would think someone with your supposed illness would be leaving… traces. But there’s nothing. It was almost like you’d just vanished— until Karlach had found your clothes. There was no blood on them, no damage, no filth (at least no more than usual).

The search continues.

Dawn isn’t far. Just a little longer.

As Astarion and Lae’zel scout together, he catches a whiff of blood in the distance. Animal blood, certainly. But it seems like… a lot. He notifies Lae’zel and they follow the scent, only to come across a mauled boar carcass. It’s practically been reduced to a puddle with how much carnage was heaved upon it, and what’s more…

There’s massive paw prints in the dirt. Soaked in the blood of the boar. Could this creature have hunted you? Is that why you never returned?

They alert the others and follow the tracks, along the way finding great claw marks in the trunks of the trees, various piles of viscera from unfortunate beasts, and small patches of fur. Fur the exact same colour as your hair…

The tracks lead to a small clearing in the forest, and in the middle of said clearing is… you.

Well, not you-you, but the hunkering direwolf-humanoid you turned into.

You’re crouched down, curled into a ball as your mind rends itself in twain. As dawn approaches, so too do your senses begin to return, but the wolf is not ready to relinquish control — it never is. The two of you battle for dominance in a silent struggle, ignorant to the group surrounding you from the trees.

Your werewolf self is a grotesque, fearsome thing, even as you’re lurching in pain. Your fur is an exact match of your natural hair colour, as are your eyes, even though in this form they’re clouded in rage and hunger. If you were stood upright, they’d see how you reached just over nine feet tall, how your hands and paws were lined with razor-sharp claws. Even as pathetic as you are in your current state, you’re still no creature to be trifled with.

Shadowheart steels herself as Lae’zel raises her sword high, prepared to strike you while you’re distracted.

“Abomination,” she spits, venom heavy on her tongue. “Lurk in these woods no longer, you die by my hand.”

She brings the blade down in a wide crescent motion, and you barely move out of the way in time. She’s managed to cut you, but you’re lucky to have missed the brunt of the attack.

You leap away from Lae’zel only to move into Karlach’s range of attack. She strikes you with her battleaxe and you roar as it slices into the skin of your back. Your wound quickly heals, and you spin around to swing a clawed hand in her direction. Your fist meets her side, and she’s flung feet away.

The group— your group— begins their surprisingly well-orchestrated assault, and it becomes clear that, as strong as you are, you cannot hold out for long. Not against all of them. Probably not even against half of them.

But the gods sometimes grant small mercies. The sun finally breaks, the Dawnlord’s radiance has weakened the wolf’s chokehold on you, and you stumble backwards. Your body begins to rapidly decay and break apart, and the others step back and watch the spectacle cautiously.

In less than a minute, the vicious wolf you were has become naught but gore, and underneath is your naked body, soaked in blood.

“What the fuck— [Name]?! I’m not seeing things am I? Tell me I’m not seeing things!” Karlach exclaims, suddenly overcome with guilt at having tried to kill you.

Gale watches in resignation as you limp, holding your beaten and broken body. “You’re not. That’s our [Name], alright. A lycanthrope... What a shock.” Because of course the group can’t have one normal person, can it?

Astarion is simultaneously the most and least surprised at this revelation. “So you’re telling me this entire time I’ve been sleeping with a werewolf? Ugh, there’s a joke about giving a dog a bone in there somewhere, but I’m too tired to think of it.”

You collapse, exhaustion claiming your mind after a long, blood-filled night.

When you awake a couple hours later, you find you’re tucked in your bedroll, wounds tended to and dressed once again. How did you get here, you wonder? You leave your tent to find your friends waiting around in a circle by the long-dead fire.

Astarion’s the first to notice you. “Ah, darling, you’re finally awake! I don’t suppose you’d be up for a little chat, would you? I believe we’re owed an explanation.”

You freeze. An explanation for what? Did they find you and take you back here? Do they know what you are?

You don’t have to wait long for an answer.

“After everything we’ve been through, travelling together these last few weeks, I’d have thought we developed enough trust between us. But apparently not.” Gale pauses, then looks you in the eyes. “Why did you hide what you are from us?”

“This fuckin’ world is so fucked up,” you say, folding your arms and scrunching your face. “We got two people with bombs in their chests and a guy who drinks blood but because I turn into a rabid dog once a month I’m the bad guy, really?”

“We’re not saying you’re a bad guy, we’re wondering why you didn’t trust us!” Karlach protests. “We’re supposed to be friends aren’t we?”

You frown a little and slump your shoulders. “We are friends. But we’re already dealing with sooo much bullshit I just thought it’d be better if I dealt with it myself, y’know. I mean it’s not like you can help me with it anyway, cures are hard to find and lycanthropy isn’t as bad as tadpoles and orbs and devils.”

“I’m fine with your condition [Name], so long as you don’t transform in front of me, that is,” Shadowheart chimes. “But aside from that… that wolf form seemed quite formidable. Perhaps we can make use of it, now that we know.”

Astarion claps his hands excitedly. “Oh yes! I’d love to see that! Werewolves can be quite vicious you know, always good fun to see the hounds on a hunt.”

Shadowheart turns to him. “You’re not mad that your lover’s a werewolf, Astarion? I’d have thought you’d be more upset, as a vampire and all.”

He rests a hand on his hip and half heartedly inspects his nails. “Oh please, werewolves and vampires are just as likely to be allies as they are to be enemies. Cazador has had so many wolf pets over the years, I suppose it was only a matter of time until I got my own.”

“You’ve got it ass-backwards Astarion, if anything you’re my pet vampire,” you tease.

“How dare you! Here I thought puppies were supposed to be cute and obedient,” he cries in mock offence.

“Says the one who gets on all fours for a dog—”

Gale clears his throat loudly and claps his hands. “Ahem! Alright, now that that’s settled, I hope there won’t be anymore surprise revelations about the members of our group. Gods know we have more than enough of them to last a lifetime. Shall we get on? We have a long day ahead.”

It’s of a great relief to you that they didn’t ask too many questions, though you somehow suspect you’ll be telling them the humiliating story of your infection someday soon. In such a short time, you’ve grown fond of your new friends, and even fonder for a certain vampire…

And you’re sure you have a long, long road ahead of you yet.

#my posts #reader insert #baldurs gate iii #baldurs gate 3 x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #baldurs gate iii fanfic #astarion x mc #astarion x you #one shot #baldurs gate iii oneshot #gender neutral reader #werewolf x vampire #vampire x werewolf #METAL AGAINST METAL #can u guys tell how much i love bg3 and these lil goofballs?

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boxofbonesfic · 9 months

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Drabble idea: your next door neighbour is reclusive and you rarely see him but you do notice the strange noises you hear during the full moon and the women who enter his apartment and don't come out.

(Werewolf! Curtis Everett)

Title: Moonsign

Pairing: Werewolf!Curtis Everett x Reader

Summary: You pick the wrong night to return your neighbor’s mis-delivered mail.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Violence, Monsterfucking-adjacent, Violence, Werewolf AU

A/N: so i fell in love with this prompt—

You pause, your fist half a centimeter from the door as a sharp howl splits the air. Maybe he has a dog. You’ve never actually seen your reclusive neighbor out with one around the block, but working nights has left you decidedly out of the loop on neighborhood events. The block’s been a ghost town lately anyway, what with over half the buildings covered in red and yellow tape signaling that they would soon be torn down or repurposed into housing neither you nor your roommates would be able to afford.

The pile in your hands consists of fifteen letters plus a small package you’d opened by mistake—a dried bundle of beautiful purple flowers you’d had to look at the card inside to identify as decorative monkshood. Behind the house, the sun is setting bright orange and red, casting the dreary porch in shadow. I’m overthinking this.

You knock.

The door creaks open, and you stand, stunned in the doorway with your arm still raised as you stare into the dim hallway beyond.

“H-hello?” You croak, your throat suddenly tight. You drop your arm. “Mr. Everett?” There’s no response, at least not one you can hear from the porch. The sound of cicadas grows in your ears as you shift nervously from foot to foot. I’ll just.. leave it inside. On a table or something.

“I’m, um, I’m coming in,” you follow the statement with a timid step across the threshold. “I’ve just um, I’ve got some mail of yours, I think it was delivered by mistake.” The rug muffles the sound of your footsteps as you shuffle toward the warm yellow light at the end of the hall. It’s a kitchen—and it’s empty.

You set the mail down on the small table. “Sorry I opened one by mistake,” you call, before shaking your head. “What am I doing,” you mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose. “There’s nobody even home.” That’s fine, all the better. You don’t want to have to face your neighbor after opening his mail. As you turn to head back outside, your foot catches against the leg of a chair pulled back from the table. You stumble, letting out a loud curse.

“Goddammit—” It’s only just out of your lips before you freeze, your stomach tightening. Your cry of pain seems mirrored somehow, like an echo—

Like you’re not alone in this house.

You go to speak, but find your mouth dry, and throat tight as you cup your hands around your mouth.

“Hello?” It comes out as a croak. “I’m sorry for intruding, the door was open and—” You tremble as the answering animal bellow cuts your nervous excuse in half, the unsaid words hanging unspoken in the air in front of your trembling mouth.

Is he hurt or something?

“Mr. Everett?”

For a moment, the house is so silent you can hear the traffic outside, and then the same agonized wail reverberates up through the floorboards, setting your heart racing. You clamp a hand over your mouth to silence the terrified whimper that threatens to escape. It sounds again and again until you realize it isn’t just an anguished, pained yell— someone is speaking to you.

“—lp me,” the words are barely discernible, like the one speaking them can barely manage. “Help me…”

There is another door in the kitchen, one that doesn’t lead back out into the rest of the small house. It, like the front door, opens easily with little effort. The heavy door swings open on silent hinges, exposing a set of dimly lit cement stairs winding down into the dark basement.

“Mr. Everett are you—are you down here?” Your reluctant voice takes a long time to bounce back to your ears. “Do-do you need me to call someone? Did you fall?”

“It… hurts…”

You aren’t sure why the thought of going down those stairs fills you with a primordial sense of dread, like your body is painfully aware of something your waking mind isn’t. You hesitate, but then another anguished wail accompanied by a sick sounding crack spurs you into action. He was hurt down there, and your waffling wasn’t helping.

You shine your phone light on the stairs as you descend, each step dragging icy fingers slowly down your spine. You swallow thickly as you reach the bottom, cool sweat prickling at your temples. The bare bulb hanging by the landing gives off comically little light, forcing you to squint, your brows furrowed as you stare into the gloom. The house upstairs, like most of the buildings on the block, was an old construction, built some time in the sixties or seventies—but this concrete was new.

And the basement… it’s bigger than you’d thought possible, the walls invisible to you either by darkness or design. The air down here is still and heavy, and you cannot will yourself to break the pregnant silence. Goosebumps rise on your skin.

A sickening crack shatters the quiet, and the pained noise that follows is louder and closer than ever before. You squeak with fear, before covering your mouth with your hands. It stinks down here, you realize, a tart, copper scent that you finally recognize as a mix of sweat and blood.

“You…came.” The words sound pleased, despite the speaker’s obvious pain. And that voice… You squeeze your arms around yourself, taking a step back towards the landing. It was like an animal growling words. It doesn’t even sound human.

Your heel bumps the concrete as you begin to back away.

“M-Mr. Everett, I’m going to g-g-go call someone f-for you—”

“I wai-ted for yo-ou,” the voice rasps, continuing on as if you haven’t spoken at all. “Call-ed fo-r yo-ou.” Something shifts in the dark—something big. There is a heavy grunt, and then the sound of metal dragging against the concrete. A whimper worms its way past your lips as slowly, the weak glow of the swaying bulb above your head reflects off of two pale blue eyes, glinting in the dark. The thing stops moving, the dragging sound suddenly ceasing.

“He thi-nks this will sto-op me,” the sound of the chain striking concrete is like the thunder outside, the spark briefly illuminating—something. You can’t comprehend it—huge and hulking, dark fur—“There is no ca-ge for me that he can bui-ld that I cannot destro-oy.”

There is a sound like metal crunching and then your legs are moving before you tell them to, scrambling up the stairs on your hands and feet like an animal as a rasping sound like laughter follows at your heels.

You’re barely through the door when you hear it on the stairs, something big coming up behind you—you bolt towards the front door, a scream erupting from your throat. You grab the door handle—

As claws tear through your overalls, splitting the skin underneath like hot knives. You fall forward with a cry against the door. It knocks the wind out of you, and you fall to your knees, your eyes blurry with tears. It’s like a wolf, you realize as it looms over you—but like a man, too, standing on thickly furred legs with an unnatural, canine bend.

Pale blue eyes sit above its dark muzzle, and they sparkle with dark amusement. You open your mouth to scream again and it lunges, burying sharp white teeth into the meat of your shoulder. You can taste your own blood, smell it in the air around you as you gurgle. Your blood gleams on its muzzle when it pulls away, dripping down onto your face as it hums.

“He will have to keep you now.” Terrified tears track down your cheeks as the bite mark on your shoulder begins to burn. “Like he wants to.”

End

#chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fandom #cevans fandom #cevans fic #curtis everett #curtis everett imagine #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x you #curtis everett x y/n #werewolf au #werewolf curtis everett #werewolf!curtis #darkfic #dark mc #boxofbonesfic #boxofbones drabbles #bones drabbles

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athanasius-symposium-of-writings · 7 months

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werewolf!tav who brings fresh kills to astarion for him to feed on. I want astarion waking up to see a dead deer or bear at the foot of his bed and a very happy werewolf!tav looking at him like “i brought you food, my love”

I read this as degradation and tbh it sounds really good to think of ascend!Astarion calling you his consort and yet you are his pet too. His dog to sick on anyone or thing, a creature that gives him offerings like a god.

Rated M

warning: degradation, enslavement, vampire's view on werewolves

The offering is delivered at the foot of his throne, the werewolf with a rune engraved collar of submission, a creature who will be enslaved to any vampire who can activate the runes properly and subdue you. Astarion smiles, the snickering of the vampires he entertains tonight escapes your notice. You are pet, his lover, but a pet he has leashed to his side. “Come,” And you do but he stops you, “As my consort.” The snickering stops as they see you shed your fur and appear as flesh and the vampire Ascendant is standing and wrapping his cloak upon your naked blood-covered skin.

Wild yet tamed you sit by his feet with your head on his lap, his hand petting your hair.

“You did very well my love.” You smile at his words as the servants take the fresh kill to the kitchens. The other vampires hate you and think you are nothing more than a beast who should be in the pens rather than by the side of their new Lord. Werewolves are seen as dogs to be pets and bodyguards, and none are treated with respect-- Though you are a pet to the great vampire lord, Astarion’s love for you is questionable when he has you like this.

Not like any of them will dare speak against him or harm you, they all have seen what happens when someone touches what belongs to the Vampire Ascendant on full display in the hall two weeks ago.

The party resumes, there are some glances towards you with hate but none too long for Astarion to want to be goring out eyes. No, he likes the drama of it and it humors him more so is how your attention is only on him.

Loyal and devoted to him.

#baldur's gate 3 #anon ask #reader insert #astarion #astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #astarion x werewolf!tav

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the-broken-truth · 3 months

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Primal Hunt - [Yandere] [Werewolf Jamil Viper] [Female Yuu]

Summary: It's Halloween in Night Raven College, and everyone is celebrating with parties and festivities. However, Yuu Arisugawa is preoccupied with finding a way to activate the Dark Mirror and return to her world. Unfortunately, she has become the target of a predator who not only wants to prey on her but also has something darker in mind for the magicless female. Will Yuu survive the Night of the Blood Moon, or will she be devoured?

Broken: Welcome to my First Yandere Jamil Viper One-Shot. I know it's not Halloween, but who seriously cares?

[Halloween Night - Ramshackle]

Soft sapphire eyes looked at the pages of the book resting on the desk before the window where the light of the Blood Red Full Moon shined through the rather foggy window. With an exhausted yawn, Yuu ran her hair through her short black hair before using her hand to close the tome before her and pushed it away from her before resting her elbows on the desk and placing her face in the palms of her hands, completely exhausted by the countless hours of searching through countless tomes and writing down information for the one question she's had since arriving in Twisted Wonderland: A way to return to her original world.

Yuu Arisugawa is the Prefect of Ramshackle and is widely known to be the strongest person on campus, even though she has no magical powers. However, she possesses a power that nobody can understand, which makes her equally feared whether she is angry or having a normal day. Yuu commands respect through her actions, not because of her magical abilities or family status, unlike many other students on campus. Despite the Headmaster's duties, she still manages to excel in her studies while assisting students of all dorms and years with their issues. Additionally, she handles all the Overblots, from Riddle Rosehearts to Malleus Draconia and everyone in between. Everyone knows not to anger the Prefect because of her impressive abilities.

No one would say it around Dire Crowley since Yuu asked them not to, but all the other students considered Yuu as the True Headmaster of Night Raven College and would call her that when the Old Crow was not around; Yuu would never admit it, but she liked it when the others called her that. It made her feel like her efforts were being appreciated.

However, the only thing the students didn't like about Yuu was her current mission: Returning from whence she came. Not a single person at Night Raven wanted Yuu to return to her original world; the teachers, the students, the Dorm Wardens and Vice Dorm Wardens, and even Crowley (I'm sure we all know why) wanted Yuu to remain with them, however, the Arisugawa Female was too set on returning home and there was nothing anyone could change her mind; no amount of gifts and pleads would make her stay in Twisted Wonderland.

Tonight was no different.

T'was Halloween Night and all the dorms were celebrating in style, it was more special since the Blood Moon was high in the sky; making everything better for the atmosphere of the parties. Every dorm invited Yuu to their personal events but the Prefect refused since she was going to use the peace and quiet to look through the tomes she had about the Dark Mirror in hopes of triggering it to bring her back home. Grim asked her if it would be okay to go with Ace and Deuce on their Halloween adventures and Yuu agreed; the fact Grim asked her made her laugh since he always called her his 'henchman'. Due to the Blood Moon, The Ghosts of Ramshackle were in some kind of hibernation; Yuu was completely alone in the silent walls of Ramshackle.

Yuu pushed herself away from the desk and rose from her seat before leaving her room to head down the stairs to make herself something small to eat and maybe a cup of tea; all that reading and still the dots were not connecting for her, at least not at the moment.

Upon reaching the kitchen and putting the kettle on to the tea, Yuu placed a frozen pizza in her toaster oven and turned the timer; that was when her phone, a gift from Professor Crewel (Dad Crewel!), binged with a message. She pulled it out of her pocket and opened the message - it was from Ace in the group chat she had with Ace and Deuce.

Ace Trappola❤: Hey, Yuu! Sorry to bother you but we have a problem here.

Yuu: What is the problem, Ace?

Ace Trappola❤: We lost Grim.

Yuu: What do you mean you lost Grim? What happened?

Ace Trappola❤: We were invited to Scarabia Dorm for their party and everything was going good, but when the food came, we noticed that Grim wasn't anywhere around and we both know he loves food. Did he come back to Ramshackle by any chance?

Yuu: No, I am here alone. When was the last time you saw him?

Ace Trappola❤: Last time I saw him, he was talking to Jamil.

Yuu: Jamil? Jamil isn't that fond of Grim. what could they have been talking about?

Just then, a new text appeared from Deuce Spade.

Deuce Spade♠: I found Grim! He was locked in a broom closet and he was passed out!

Yuu: What do you mean? Is he awake now?

Deuce Spade♠: Yeah, but that's not important right now! Yuu, you need to leave Ramshackle right now! Grim wasn't just knocked out, he was Snake Whispered!

That text caused Yuu's eyes to widen in shock: The Snake Whisper was the Unique Magic of Jamil Viper, Scarabia's Vice Dorm Warden who overblotted while attempting to stage a coup but was stopped by Yuu.

Ever since that night, Jamil's attitude and relationship with Kalim and his dorm mates have been better, he integrated himself into Yuu's Friendship Circle, however, he was never really interested in speaking to the others in the group: He only wanted to speak and interact with Yuu. In fact, he seemed as if he wanted to be more to Yuu than 'just a friend', at least, that is what his actions spoke:

During meal times, he would bring food for Yuu along with his own and Kalim's. He always made sure to sit next to her and if there was anyone else occupying the seats next to Yuu, he would demand that they give up their seat for him. During one such occasion, Jamil forcibly removed Ace from his seat when he refused to give it up willingly to the Viper.

Whenever Yuu expressed a need for something, no matter how small it was, Jamil always brought it to her. He brought her school materials and even odd things like newer versions of items. Yuu suspected that Jamil was following her because she had mentioned a Triple Layered Cheesecake with strawberries on top that her mother used to make for her on her birthday. She had kept a copy of the recipe card in her room at Ramshackle. However, on the day of her 17th Birthday Party, Jamil surprised her with the exact same cake, which tasted just like her mother's recipe. Yuu was grateful for the cake, but couldn't understand how Jamil knew the recipe when the recipe card was in her room and no one had access to it. It made her wonder if Jamil had been in her room without her knowledge. The very thought scared her but she refused to show it.

Jamil always found ways to be near Yuu. He would volunteer to work with her on paired projects and assist her with finding books. However, Yuu noticed that whenever she was looking for books related to the Dark Mirror, they were difficult to find when Jamil was around. When she searched without him, she found them easily. Whenever Yuu invited her friends to her place to relax, Jamil would bring ingredients to make delicious desserts for himself, Yuu, and Kalim. However, he would only give cookies to the others so Yuu wouldn't get mad at him.

The most troubling thing about Jamil in Yuu's opinion was that he was very possessive and insistent that Yuu spend time with him; he would grab her forearm and bring her closer to him whenever they were walking with their friends or glare at other students who spoke to her for too long, the longest he lasted before scaring someone off was 2 minutes.

Now, Grim was Snake Whispered and locked in a broom closet in Scarabia? What the hell is going on and why would Jamil do something like this?

That was when the lights went out and Yuu was now standing in utter darkness just as the timer on the Toaster Over went off and the Kettle started steaming. Yuu slightly jumped when the lights went out but soon calmed herself down as she shook her phone to trigger the flashlight before walking out of the kitchen and looking down the hallway; every single light in Ramshackle was out but this was confusing. The weather was perfect for Halloween and Yuu recently got the old wiring in the power box replaced to make sure there were no fires or blackouts.

'Was someone trying to play a trick on me? It was Halloween after all.' Yuu thought as she walked to the front door, opened it, and went out and around Ramshackle to look for the power box, only to find something shocking: The Power Box was damaged...by some kind of creature. 3 large and deep claw marks slashed through the wires and circuit boards, causing the blackout; something or someone did this on purpose...and it was most likely that it was still around.

Yuu turned on her heel and ran back into Ramshackle, slamming the door behind her and locking the door before calming down and heading up the stairs to return to her room, and closed the door behind her before turning to face it with her back to the window. She closed her eyes while taking deep breaths to calm her racing heart. She had to calm down and think; all she had to do was...

*Tap*

Yuu's eyes widened at the sound of tapping on the glass behind her but she was too frozen to move, that's when she noticed something else; the shadow that consumed hers. There was something watching her and it was large.

"My, my, Prefect. All alone on this Halloween night? Why don't you let me in and I shall hold you tight." The voice said. Wait. That voice.

Yuu pushed through her fear and turned around and came face to face with none other than Jamil Viper, but it would seem that the Viper was hiding more than his hatred for Kalim during the Coup.

Jamil was no longer completely human, Yuu could tell that from the large wolf-like ears and the long bushy tail waving side to side slowly with excitement. Red markings rest upon Jamil's cheeks like whispers and a very decorated marking on his forehead. He was dressed in a rather nice outfit like he was at the party, but she knew that was no costume; by the look of his canine-like feet wrapped in black bandages and the claws wrapped in the same material up to his forearms. Yuu could see the obvious: Jamil Viper was a Werewolf.

"Trying to stay calm, Prefect? That is utterly adorable, however, that is not going to fool me. I can hear your heart pounding against your chest. I can see your pupils jumping in those lovely pools of sapphire you call eyes. Also..." Jamil takes a deep inhale before exhaling with a smile on his face as he places his wrapped clawed hands on the surface of the glass, "I can smell your fear, Prefect, and it's delicious; utterly intoxicating."

"You used your Unique Magic on Grim and locked him in a broom closet in Scarabia's Dormitory during the party. Why?" Yuu asked while keeping her distance from the window, the only barrier she had between herself and the Werewolf Vice Warden before her.

Said werewolf chuckling as his tail waved from side to side like a slow-paced pendulum.

"Still trying to act tough? Oh, Prefect, you're too damn cute for your own good; it makes me want to devour you even more now. As for that blasted chimera, I was not going to let him get in my way and ruin the plans I have spent months putting into place." Jamil's silver eyes - which were as black as coal the last time she saw him - seemed to glow with unknown intentions.

"Plans? What plans?" Yuu asked. Jamil's smile grew, displaying his large canines, as his right index finger started tapping the surface of the glass once again. Yuu's body moved on its own and took a few steps back.

"Let me in and I'll explain everything that's gonna happen before this night is over, Prefect." Jamil purred at the girl, who shook her head at him, making his smile grow even wider. "Prefect..."

He reeled his clawed hand back.

"That wasn't a suggestion."

Jamil's hand shot forward and shattered the glass all over the floor and desk of Ramshackle, making Yuu over her face to keep any and all glass from hitting her face. When the sound of large footsteps hit her room floor and the sound of glass shards hitting each other hit her ears, she removed her hands and looked at the tall werewolf standing before her with a wild grin on his face as he stared down at the 5'3 Girl.

"What is wrong with you, Jamil?" Yuu asked. The large male tilted his head at her with his smile still resting on his face.

"You have no idea how long I have been waiting for this, Prefect: The moment I would have you alone and I would take what is rightfully mine." His tongue ran along the surface of his teeth, "Your skin... It shines so deliciously in this crimson lunar light. I can't wait to see how divine you taste, My Dear."

Jamil had taken one step closer to Yuu and the Prefect's Body immediately went into Fight, Flight, or Freeze Mode. She knew that Jamil was stronger than her, so fighting was not an option at the moment. Freezing was also not a good idea as it would have made her an easy prey for a Werewolf Vice Dorm Warden. As much as she hated the idea, she knew she had to run. She quickly gripped her phone and threw it towards Jamil with all her might. The phone hit him directly in the center of his forehead, catching him off guard and causing him to snarl in pain. Jamil took a step back and held his forehead, giving Yuu just enough time to open her room door and run out down the hall. Luckily, she managed to reach the stairs just when Scarabia's Vice Dorm Warden was recovering with a smile on his face.

"Oh... Sweet Prefect. You know exactly what I want and exactly when I want it." Jamil purred before bolting out of the bedroom and chasing after Yuu, who managed to make it down the stairs and to the front door; she swung the door open and started running down the stairs just as Jamil appeared standing in the doorway of Ramshackle.

Yuu made it to the gate and ran out before heading down the path that led to the Hall of Mirrors, but that trip was cut short as Jamil landed in the middle of the path in a perfect crouch; his claws lightly scraping the ground as he looked at Yuu's horrified face.

"Prefect... You know that you are not getting away from me. Just be a good girl for me and let me feast." Jamil purred but Yuu wasn't going for that, she turned to the right and attempted to get into the forest but Jamil lunged at her and grabbed her upper arm in his grip; his claws digging into her skin, making a mark on her body and making her flinch in pain. "Stop fighting me, Prefect; just submit and everything can be less painful for you."

Yuu wasn't having it and punched the werewolf in his chest with her free hand, shocking him and causing him to release his grip on Yuu, he tried to grab her gain but all he managed to do was grab her sleeve and it tore off, leaving a piece of her shirt in Jamil's hand has she disappeared into the forest surrounding Ramshackle. Jamil looked at the piece of cloth in his caws before bringing it to his nose and deeply inhaling the scent soaked in the cloth; a pleasuring moaning exhale escaped his mouth as he placed the cloth in his pocket and chased after the Prefect of Ramshackle.

The Hunt was On.

Yuu ran for what seemed to be at least 20 Minutes, the wound on her arm was slowly bleeding and she knew she needed to deal with that or Jamil was going to sniff her out faster than ever. She went to hide behind a large tree, ripped off some of her pants leg, and tied it around the wound to absorb the blood. She was trying to catch her breath when she heard more footsteps coming, she remained as still as she possibly could and attempted to calm her racing heart as Jamil entered the area, his silver eyes scanning the area before he lifted his head and took a deep inhale of the air around him.

"Oh, Prefect... The fact that you think you can escape me fills me with so much joy; you're making me excited. Once I find you, you're going to take responsibility for this. Keep running. Keep hiding. Make me earn you. Make me worthy of you, Prefect. Please..." Jamil purred and whimpered at the same time before running off in a random direction; allowing Yuu to peek her head out and look in the direction Jamil ran. She knew he was playing with her, he was like a predator and she was the prey he was seeking.

She needed a plan to distract him long enough for her to get to the Hall of Mirrors and to one of the other dorms to seek aid. She thought for a while before she made her move; she needed to do this now and right or she was going to be devoured by a wolf with venom.

The hunt was fun and Jamil loved the rush he was feeling, the thrill of hunting the ultimate prey and ultimate reward made him purr in his throat; he loved working for what he wanted, and claiming his reward at the end made everything worth it, Yuu was giving him the hunt he wanted and she was the reward he was going to claim. He looked up at the crimson moon in the sky - it was lighter than before. The night was ending and he needed to find his prey. He needed to do what he planned before it was too late.

Jamil sniffed around and Yuu's scent hit him hard; she was nearby and she was moving fast. He darted in that direction with wide feral eyes, he was going to capture her and devour her slowly before claiming his ultimate reward. She was right in front of him and he lunged out of the bushes and pounced on the source of Yuu's scent but he was filled with shock and disappointment when he realized that he didn't have Yuu in his grasp, but a small rabbit.

The rabbit was trembling in fear as Jamil looked down at its small body, his eyes locking with the piece of cloth wrapped around the rabbit's body. He yanked it off and looked at it after releasing the small creature; it was a piece of Yuu's Pants Leg, soaked in her blood! She fooled him! She threw him off her real scent!

Her scent hit him again and he was shocked at how far away she was, he turned in that direction and bolted in that direction; he was not going to let her get away. She belonged to him! She needed to realize that.

Yuu's heart was pounding once again as she ran through the forest, her vision blurring as she stopped in a clearing where the moon's light shined. Her lungs were on fire. Her vision was shifting. Something was wrong. Something was horribly wrong. Yuu could feel it in her blood as the wound on her arm burned.

'What's... What's happening?' Yuu thought as she tried to take another step but she was walking like a drunk person; it was like she was under the influence when she never had alcohol before. She tried to shake the dizzy feeling out of her head when she was suddenly tackled to the ground and held down by her arms; her vision focused once again to see the smirking face of Jamil Viper above her. She attempted to struggle and push him off but it was as if the strength in her body was fading.

"Looks like you're all out of energy, Little Rabbit...and all out of strength; not that you need it, I'll take care of you from now on, My Sweet Prefect." Jamil purred before leaning down and burying his nose in her neck before inhaling her scent once again, "You have no idea what your scent does to me; being this close to you... it's not like smelling your sheets and clothes."

"W...What?" Yuu asked in a weak voice.

"Surely you have noticed little things about Ramshackle, Prefect. Things not quite as you left them? A small wrinkle in your sheets that wasn't there? A new food item you don't remember putting in your fridge? Your soft sweaters being moved around? That was me. All of it was me. I would want you but I could not get close enough to you, so I had to settle by inhaling your scent in Ramshackle while you were away, but I couldn't take it anymore, Prefect. I needed more. I wanted more. I wanted you. I needed you. Now? I have you but you are still not mine...not yet." Jamil smiled as a clear substance coated his fangs; it wasn't saliva... Saliva wasn't that cloudy looking.

"I'll never be yours, Viper... I'll stay away from you until I find a way home." Yuu tried to defy him but all he did was lick his lips.

"I know. That's why I never approached you like this until I had everything worked out. I knew you were going to leave me and I can't have that. I am going to make you mine, Prefect, you won't be able to survive without me once I am done with you... And I will start... By severing your connection to your original world." Jamil's words made Yuu freeze as he used his claws to tear away another piece of Yuu's shirt, the area covering her neck and collarbone.

Yuu watched in horror as Jamil opened his mouth while his pupils shined red as if he was using his Unique Magic before he lunged forward and sunk his teeth into Yuu's exposed flesh; the Prefect's screams echoed throughout the forest.

Jamil kept his grip on Yuu's neck until she calmed down and her screams died down, he smiled against her flesh as he felt her body getting warmer; the venom in his fangs was doing its job. Yuu soon fell victim to the pain and venom, causing her to pass out in Jamil's grasp before he removed his fangs from her flesh and licked the blood from his lips as he looked down at the passed-out Prefect of Ramshackle.

He looked at her bleeding wound before leaning down once again and ran his tongue along the wound, cleaning the blood and closing the wound with his saliva. Once the wound was closed and the blood was gone, he pulled away after placing a small kiss on her neck before placing another one on her forehead before looking at her sleeping face while caressing her cheek.

"I know you are going to be confused and afraid when you wake up, but I am going to be there to guide you through your new life just as you have been there to guide me. We - the underappreciated souls of Night Raven -are meant to be together; you might not understand what that means now but I will make you understand, Yuu. Tonight was your last night alone. When you wake up, you shall have a new life....with a mate that truly loves and understands you." Jamil gathered the unconscious girl in his arms before standing up, "Come along, My Diamond. Let's go home."

With that, Jamil turned on his heel and started walking through the forest with his unconscious mate slumbering in his arms as he headed back to Ramshackle; it's only natural for a newly wedded couple to spend time alone after making a lifetime commitment.

[END]

#twisted wonderland #yandere jamil viper #werewolf jamil viper #jamil x yuu #jamil viper x yuu #jamil x mc #yandere #romantic yandere

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monstercampus · 29 days

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Which wolves like a fiesty human and which orefer a more submissive? Who's got the biggest dominance kink/problem??

HEH.

(cws: mild lewd, dom/sub dynamics, brat taming, knots)

Hate to say it but Athos loooooooves a fiesty little brat. He's so sweet on you you'd think he's just the gentlest, most darling wolf to bed--aside from Elliott and Ollie, probably--but those fangs will snap as soon as the attitude comes out. He hates how much he likes it and how he likes it, but it's in his blood, so how much can he really help it?

He likes the fight for dominance, the moments where you're first entangled with each other, when it comes to deciding who is going to stake their claim over the other--he wants to make you regret all that biting and wriggling as you try to break his grip, wants to watch that snarky smirk melt as he pushes you down on his knot. You think this is humiliating? You just wait and see what happens when he turns. Bigger knot, sharper claws, and droolier fangs to sink into the nape of your neck; you'll break if he wants you to break, and when he mounts you you'll know for sure there's no escaping a good, hard breeding from him. Sometimes he'll hit you with that plap, plap, plap of his knot driving into you, while both of those massive hands just hold down your head and grip your hair as he stretches you out on his cock. You can earn his mercy if you try--but you're gonna have to try reeeeallly hard to make him proud of you again, pup.

On the flipside, Portia's one to just adore a submissive partner. He likes fiestier ones for sure, but there's something about the implicit, loving trust and sweetness of a doe-eyed little human that really gets him dialed all the way up. If you can loop your arms around his neck and cling to him while he touches you it's even better. Even if it's just playing pretend and you aren't usually that way, he really likes the feeling of acting like you need to be taken care of--it scratches an itch in the core of his self, it makes him preen at the idea of giving you all that you ask for because you trust that he can provide. He's a giver, what can he say? He likes to be needed.

The rest of the wolves are largely on the sliding scale between those extremes. Ollie likes to be praised and Nick's more on the daddy-ish dom side than the aggressive brat tamer that Athos can be. Kirk is similar to Portia in the sense that he also really needs to be needed, but he also likes flipping that into a dominant role. Julian really just likes to please and will use overstimulation as his tool to dominate you. And Elliott is more of a switch that likes to be submissive on occasion, so when he's dominant he's not usually too aggressive about it. Priam is...well, he's kind of an anomaly. Mostly a big wolfy teddy bear, but there are times when, under the right circumstances, he just goes...feral. So he can kinda flip the switch between ultra aggressive/possession to super gentle and sweet.

#werewolf team #werewolf x reader #werewolf roommate #spicy writing #athos (mc)#portia (mc)#monster campus #monster boyfriend #ellie writes #anons

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exilethegame · 8 months

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are werewolf mythosi affected by the full moon at all?

Yup! It doesn't necessarily cause them to become mindlessly violent, but it does cause werewolves to get super antsy and riled up, and super emotional as well! A lot of the time that can cause them to "act out," however, which might make them accidentally hurt those around them (ex. forgetting how strong they are, being less aware of their surroundings, etc.).

Werewolves aren't forced to turn during a full moon so much as the compulsion to is so strong that there isn't much point in not shifting. But, if for one reason or another a werewolf really didn't want to deal with the whole moon thing, there are potions they could take to subvert the effects!

#yes werewolf MCs will have a moon moment #and yes nikke will be freaked the fuck out and find the highest part of the ship to hide away on #meanwhile Sabir + Syfyn are just like 'welp... there they go again ig'#answered

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boxdstars · 3 months

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are you the “i love my oc/mc and will give them the entire universe should they ask” or are you the “im putting them in the torture machine for 1000 years” type of hphl fan

#i see an even split in the fandom i feel #i’m such a foul oc owner if they came to life they’d beat me to a pulp #yall already know where mara is going #tormenting her is my favorite thing to do because werewolf angst is elite #but then it makes the soft bits so satisfying #hogwarts legacy #hphl #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy oc

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distressedwalnut · 1 year

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I TRIPLE DOG DARE YOU TO DRAW WEREWOLF SANFO

dies explodes dies again

#madness combat #madcom #madness combat art #madcom art #madness combat sanford #madcom sanford #mc art #mc sanford #ask #art #my art #ouugh #mean this in the most nicest way possible #never ask me to draw a werewolf again #I died trying to draw a damn wolf head #the doodles helped me calm down tho ajsdhak #I'm going to forget this post exists now bye

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blueraineshadows · 5 months

Text

Running Wild

Wolf!Garreth x F!MC

NSFW 🔞 8.3k words

Garreth Weasley is a shape shifting wolf. This fic was inspired by some gorgeous Garreth artwork by @written-in-cheese , and she has generously completed some special artwork for this one-shot piece.

Tags: smut, wolf shifting, possessiveness, claiming, NSFW artwork, arranged marriages, slight breeding kink, pregnancy, alpha males.

NSFW artwork has been censored. For the full uncensored version - click here

Wolf Garreth Artwork by @written-in-cheese

Fic under the cut

The wagon dipped and rolled as it made the journey through the city, the steady clop of hooves a relentless patter that aided the motion in making her drowsy. Leaning her head against the frame of the window, MC watched the bustling street scenes pass her by, the city still alive with people even in the late evening glow.

The air clung to late summer warmth, the sky shot through with glorious pinks and golds as the sun kissed the horizon. MC pressed her fingertips to the glass, her eyes longing to see the spectacle of the sunset instead of such beauty being blocked out by row upon row of grand buildings. With only glimpses of beautiful sky to admire, she felt the deep longing in her heart pull with an aching sharpness.

A longing to see the familiar open skies of home.

Her fingers drifted to the fine cord that hung about her neck, the delicate adornment disappearing into the neckline of her dress. Such sumptuous silk and lace to be dressed in, a garment worthy of any fine lady, and yet she detested the trappings of such finery. Absently, she allowed her fingers to trail over the trinket concealed beneath her bodice, hidden from disapproving eyes and yet always close to her heart.

“You look rather pensive, my dear. Are you quite alright?”

MC pulled her gaze from teasing glimpses of big skies and looked upon her companions seated opposite her in the carriage. The Harringtons were purest of blood and very high society, their matriarch, and formidable social queen, was seated directly opposite, her cool, assessing eyes fixed on MC.

“I am quite well,” MC assured Mrs Harrington, her hand lingering against her chest, reluctant to lose the feel of the trinket beneath her touch.

Mrs Harrington stared down her hawk nose with a look that suggested she was not fooled.

“All eyes were on you tonight, sweet child,” Mrs Harrington said smugly, lips pursed with determined confidence.

She was a woman used to being obeyed and didn't expect anything less this evening. “The summer is not over yet. There is still plenty of time to announce an engagement. Perhaps, after this evening, we will see you finally agree to such a suitable match.”

MC bit back her groan of disgust. The talk of engagements and marriage was a topic that she found tedious and pointless. She was not interested, despite being sent to the city for the season with the hopes of securing a match.

Not her hopes. She flatly insisted on reminding people. It was her brother who was hoping to settle her into a good marriage. It didn't matter whom, as long as he was pure blood and decent enough to take her on.

It had been a long and tiresome summer, and MC longed to escape the confines of these horrid dresses and city streets, tied to these insufferable pure bloods with their grand homes and fancy parties. The social networking she had been forced to endure set her teeth on edge, and she was surprised she had any left to grind.

“Oh, leave her be, grandmother. It has been an enjoyable evening. Let's not spoil it now.”

MC swung her gaze towards the young Master Harrington, his golden hair swept neatly to one side, his pale eyes twinkling as he winked at her across the carriage. Seated beside his grandmother, dressed in only the finest suit and silk waistcoat, Corbin Harrington was quite the dashing young man.

Highly eligible, and yet still on the marriage market, as dear grandmother had grand designs on securing MC as his fiance. With her family name and purest of blood, she was quite the catch. Set to inherit a small fortune when she reached the grand age of 21, an inheritance due to her from her deceased parents, she was highly eligible.

All summer, she had been plagued by so many letters of interest from London's high society, but it was the Harrington's who had dominated her time. So far, she had resisted their offer of young Corbin's hand, claiming she needed to be absolutely sure of her choice given the lack of parental advice.

She only had her dear aunt to call on, and Gemma was nestled deep in the Scottish Highlands, so far removed from high city living that poor, old Mrs Harrington would likely have a fit if she came face to face with her.

The very thought of it made MC want to smirk. Aunt Gemma was a rare one, a very special woman who held MC’s heart firmly in her hands. The longing to return to the loving arms and cosy cottage of her one living adult relative filled her up until her eyes were glazing with unshed tears.

Giving Corbin a thankful smile for at least trying to get his grandmother off her back, MC pressed her fingers more firmly against her chest, feeling out the shape of the trinket hidden beneath her bodice.

She dared not even risk Mrs Harrington getting her watchful eyes on it, the charm likely to cause a scandal, and the old crone would likely demand its instant removal. MC would never do such a thing. She never took it off, not even in bed. In fact, she held it firmly in her grasp as she settled beneath expensive cotton sheets.

It was a gift. A rare and very special gift. Given to her by someone who was worth more than any glittering jewellery or elaborate silk gown.

Her fingers deftly felt out the shape of the trinket, a long fang tooth worn smooth from touch, a lucky charm, and a symbol of protection from one who had offered it out of deep affection.

Not only scandalous to the social elite, but forbidden to be given to a mere human. He had broken the rule for her, as they had broken many other rules set down by his kind. It was their secret, a secret she cherished, and another reason why marriage was the last thing on her wish list.

Beneath her fine silk and lace, laying snug against her skin, was the tooth of a wolf. Not just any wolf, but a shape shifting wolf. Not just a myth, or a children's bedtime story, wolves who shifted into the shapes of men lived and walked the forests of the world.

And MC had managed to get close to one of them.

As the carriage came to a stop before the gates of the Harrington home, she pressed her fingers to the wolf tooth and longed for big skies, shadowed forests, and the warm glow of a wolf's gaze.

….*....

“Will you walk with me?”

Corbin offered his arm, his smile quite lovely as he leaned slightly in her direction. There was still enough daylight to see, the golden glow of the evening's last rays glinting off his fair hair. In another life, perhaps she would have fallen for him. He was very handsome, and he was also charming.

The passing of the summer had been made more bearable by his presence, a rare gem in the nest of Harrington that exuded warmth and friendliness. Whomever it was that managed to claim his hand in marriage would be a lucky witch indeed. MC could only hope that he was matched with one as equally lovely.

Old Mrs Harrington watched as MC took Corbin’s offered arm, her lips pursed in cool approval as the couple turned to make their way towards the pretty garden of the London house, MC’s skirts swishing softly against the paved walkway.

“Don’t mind my Grandmother,” he said with a soft smile. “Underneath all that blue blood exterior, she is not so bad.”

MC returned his smile, hearing words he had repeated so often over the last few weeks. As lovely as he was, he was still one of them, his hopes pinned on her acceptance of their offer. She could see it in his eyes when he looked at her, the gentle but appropriate touches he placed on her body, the soft yearning that would cross his face at times when they were alone.

She was no stranger to the look of desire in a man’s eyes, she was not so naive as to not recognise it, no matter how differently it was dressed up in this young gentleman beside her. Whilst flattered and endeared by his fondness for her, Corbin did not make her blood sing, nor make her skin crave his touch.

MC knew she craved more than a piece of paper that bound her to a man, exchanging rings as a symbol of a forever pretending that this was what you wanted. It sounded like a lonely existence, and it went against everything that she held close to her heart. Freedom, love, a love that was boundless and all-encompassing.

As they walked through the sweet smelling beds of roses, she looked to the sky, the cloying thickness of the scent almost as suffocating as the smoggy city centre. Again, she thought of clear sky and mountain breezes. Here, she couldn’t see the rising moon, and there was no long and mournful howls to split the night at the sight of it.

“You often look to the skies, MC,” Corbin said, looking up at the twilight hue himself. “What is it that draws your gaze that way?”

“I long for my home, away from the city,” she replied honestly. “I miss the freedom of the wilds and the clearer air. I wonder how one does not wilt away forced to live here all the time. I find myself striving for every breath, every day a battle.”

A flicker of sadness crossed his gaze, and he paused near a neatly trimmed hedgerow. “Have you not enjoyed your time with us?”

Meeting his gaze, she could see the hope, a dancing flame that she could not kindle in return, but she smiled and placed her hand over his briefly. A chaste touch that was not meant to inspire.

“The company has been favourable, Corbin. You have been a most gracious host. However, the city is not my home, and it never will be. I don’t feel like myself here.”

Her fingers drifted towards her necklace, grazing against the silk that hid the tooth pendant. Images of dappled sunlight through trees, rushing streams, and cool air on her bare flesh rushed through her thoughts. Memories of the glow in emerald eyes filled with wanton fire made her fingers press more urgently, the tooth imprinting into the flesh of her chest.

Corbin looked thoughtful, and he nodded slightly, his face becoming grave. “Your heart already belongs to another, doesn’t it?”

A soft gasp left her lips, and she lifted her eyes to his, startled and caught off guard. “I’m sorry?”

“As much as I wish it to be different, I have suspected for some time that you have a love somewhere waiting for you,” he said, a sad acceptance drifting over his face. He gestured to her hand pressed tightly against her bodice.

“Whatever trinket you wear every day means something to you. Whenever marriage or talk of affections is brought up, you touch it. The faraway look in your eyes when you gaze at the sky brings the loveliest smile to your lips, and your hand will be seeking out whatever it is you keep hidden. I am not a fool, and neither am I an ogre. It is why I always try to stop my grandmother from pushing you so hard. I know you do not wish to accept the offer of my hand, for you love another, and I suspect he is waiting for your return. You are here for a sister’s duty, nothing more.”

Hastily removing her hand from the tooth concealed beneath her dress, MC felt the faint warmth of a blush stain her cheeks as she tucked stray strands of hair behind her ears. How dangerously close to the mark he had struck with his words. It made her heart pound as she wondered who else had noticed and suspected.

“It is merely a reminder of home,” she said quickly, waving his words away like parlour smoke. “It brings me comfort when the home sickness rears its head.”

She made a step forward along the path, but he halted her, stealing her breath as his warm palm cupped her burning cheek. His eyes were so very close as he studied her and she found that she could not look away. For the first time, she almost felt a tiny ripple of reaction at his closeness, but it was faint, warmth rather than fire. Affection rather than an inferno of desperate need.

“Your secret is safe with me, whatever it may be. You do not even have to tell me the truth of it. Just…” He hesitated, biting his lip, that hope flaring in the depths of his eyes again. “Is there any chance? If I were to turn a blind eye… would you take my hand?”

“Corbin!” She gasped, putting her hand against his. “Please don’t say that. You are a wonderful gentleman, a pure heart who deserves so much more than this. You deserve to marry a girl who can give all of herself to you. I would not hurt you in such a way. I couldn’t.”

His lips trembled, and he looked downwards. “Then you must feel for him deeply,” he said. He took a steadying breath. “You should return to him. Don’t linger here where you are unhappy.”

“If only it were that easy,” she whispered, gently removing his hand from her face.

Whilst she did have someone waiting back home, he too was caught up in the rules of his own society. They had made no promises to each other, and one day, she may need to say goodbye to him. The thought tore at her, and she swallowed it down.

“It is that easy,” Corbin said, straightening. “Go, tonight. I will cover for you, and you can be back in Scotland before dawn. Take the Floo in my father’s office. I will let you in.”

“Why would you do this for me?”

“Because I would rather know that your face is graced with that lovely smile than stand to see you stuck here, wilting under the bonds of a marriage you would grow to hate,” he said, ducking his gaze and swallowing hard. “I would never forgive myself.”

Releasing a shaky breath, she touched her fingers to her necklace, her heart pounding at the thought of being home by the dawn, and of running through the trees towards freedom and fire. Looking at Corbin in his fine suit, she could not ever imagine him doing such a thing, but his words and offer tonight had opened her eyes to the man within. He truly was one of life’s rare humans. She stepped towards him, her hand reaching out to touch his arm, moved by his words, and still processing what they meant.

It was a refusal of his proposal and an offer to run back to where her heart desired to be.

Unable to find the words, she threw her arms around him. Blast the etiquette and stuffy social rules, she held him tightly, fingers clutching at the back of his suit coat as she breathlessly whispered her thank you to him. He had stiffened at the impact of her body against his at first, but then his arms came around her, and he held her to him, burying his face into her neck with a soft sigh.

“Just be happy, MC,” he said, hand gently stroking the small of her back. “And you know where to find me should you change your mind.”

As lovely as he was, she doubted she would step foot in London ever again.

….*....

The air was cooler and wonderfully refreshing as MC breathed deeply, closing her eyes and letting the trappings of city living drift away on the mountain breeze. Opening her eyes to the dawn, the sky was huge, inviting, and anticipation tingled over her skin as she gazed at the setting moon. Touching her fingers to the wolf tooth, she smiled, the distant mountains of the Highlands still free of snow, but the tell tale bite of autumn was already touching at the breeze this far north. She was ready for it.

Boots crunching against the wilderness trail, she enjoyed the freedom of her short trousers and woollen socks, her stride confident and loose rather than demure and ladylike under frivolous skirts. Her hair was loose and flowing down her back, lifting in the breeze, free from the confines of bobby pins and floral clips. She felt like herself, and her smile said it all.

At her arrival before the first hint of dawn, Aunt Gemma had been sitting in her rocking chair by the fire, a steaming brew in her hands. She had smiled, unsurprised at her niece’s arrival, merely nodding towards the teapot on the well scrubbed kitchen table. “There’s tea in the pot, my love,” she had said.

Fed, and still feeling the warmth of a welcoming hug, MC had left the cottage with only one thought in her mind. Her aunt never questioned where she was going. She didn’t need to. Her aunt was wise in ways other people didn’t understand, and she had never tried to stop MC from following the wolves into the forest.

The pack were a close-knit community, preferring their own kind most of the time, but they strayed into the hamlets now and again in their human forms. Here, in the wilds, it was still relatively safe for them to do so, but in the urban sprawl that was booming in the south, more and more wolves were falling prey to hands that didn’t understand. They were seen as dangerous beasts, dark and feral, unsafe.

Whilst they were, indeed, dangerous, they were not violent unless the need arose. They would defend their packs to the death, and would not any soul do the same for their family?

The edge of the forest loomed before her, and MC took one last long look at the open sky before she plunged under the canopy, a feeling of home seeping deep into her bones.

Further, she went through the ancient trees, following paths she had traversed many times in her life, winding her way through the gloom towards the lake. A low mist clung to the forest floor, and creatures scuttled here and there. She had her wand and her wits, and she did not fear the shadows as she carefully touched her hands to wizened old bark, brushing up against branches and rubbing her fingers against leaves. She was marking her scent.

A rustle sounded through the canopy, boughs creaking and groaning like a wave through the gloom as the breeze wound its way through ancient oaks and birch. MC paused in her step, inhaling the damp scent of wood and dirt, ruffling her loose hair as the breeze teased at it, carrying her scent onwards through the forest. Her smile danced on her lips as she ran her hand across yet another trunk, the bark rough under her soft fingers as she took a split in the trail that led upwards.

Whilst their meeting place was always the same, she needed her scent to carry in order to alert him to her presence. She had been gone for weeks, too long, and she hoped he hadn’t forgotten her, or worse, moved on elsewhere. As the distant bubbling rush of a stream reached her ears, she knew she was close, her eyes searching out through the undergrowth as great rocks began to rise out of the gloom up ahead. The path twisted and turned, the rocks becoming more frequent the higher the trail led, and all the while, MC touched trees and shook out her hair.

As the trees thinned out a little, blue sky broke through the canopy, lighting her way and giving her better visibility as she scoped out the huge juts of rock ahead, the ridges and ledges empty. No sign of beast or bird, and yet she could hear the twitters and chirps of morning birdsong through the trees. Humming a light tune, MC came before a break in the rocks, the path leading through it towards the beautiful clearing on the other side. She had missed this place, images of it drifting through her dreams that left her waking up with deep longing, the secluded privacy of the lake was special in more ways than one.

Pausing on the path, she stared at the opening in the rocks, a smile lingering on her lips as she imagined walking through it, but she didn't. Not yet. First, she took the smaller trail that led around the huge crags of rock, her eyes constantly checking, her ears keen for the familiar sound of approaching steps.

The sunlight was beginning to warm the rock faces, the plants, and shrubs coming alive under the glow of the rays after their night time slumber. MC tucked her hair behind her ear and paused as a shiver ran up her spine, that hair raising feeling of eyes was watching, making her turn slowly on her heels, and she looked up.

There, on a rocky outcrop, stood a wolf. The beast was huge, its copper fur tinged with flecks of white that blended with deeper, more golden tones as it fed down to its chest. The coat was thick and shaggy, curling in places, with scruffy tufts sticking up at the back of its neck. Standing stock still, unblinking emerald eyes watched her, the orbs glittering in the morning sunlight with a predator’s gleam.

Wolf and girl stared at each other for what felt like endless moments before she smiled, her heart lifting as she felt that familiar buzz of excitement that came from being within his vicinity.

The wolf’s eyes were deep emerald green, flecked with gold that shimmered and shifted, a depth to them that pulled you in. One look at him confirmed his beast nature, but if you were to look deeper into those eyes, really paid attention to the beast within, then you would know that there was a lot more to this canine than appeared at first glance. There was intelligence, a warmth that transcended that of a common wolf, and if you knew the soul within, you would find empathy and a gentleness that belied the fearsome jaws and limbs.

That was the wolf she saw. He had caught her scent, and he had come. Now, it was time to play. Now, it was time to run.

Breaking into a sprint, MC turned and ran back the way she had come, boots thudding against the packed dirt of the trail as she headed for the gap in the rocks. She heard the scatter of loose stone as the wolf gave immediate chase, leaping from the rocks to spring along the trail after her. With a heart thudding at double time, she didn’t dare look back, knowing he would be gaining on her with his lithe speed.

The snap of a branch pierced the air, a flock of birds took off from their perch and all the while, she could hear the thud of great paws bounding after her as she sped towards the gap in the rock, her hair flying outwards in a shimmering wave under the sunlight.

A breathless giggle escaped her lips as she entered the clearing, the stunning clear lake a masterpiece of nature glittering like glass in the morning light. Gnarled old trees and huge rushes surrounded it, a winding path leading the way around the pebbled shore as she pushed her legs to run faster, great paws sliding across shingle as the chase continued.

He was the hunter, and she was his prey.

The sunlight almost blinded her eyes as she headed for a sheer face of white rock, boots scrambling for purchase until she hit bare stone, finally spinning herself around to face her pursuer, breathless and flushed as she backed up against the dead end. Her hands felt out behind her, connecting with cool stone as she met the gaze of the wolf. Trapped in the secluded nook of stone, the lake and forest spread out before her. She felt no fear as she stared into predatory green eyes, only a tremble of expectation.

The wolf had slowed, his paws graceful and deliberate as he stalked towards her, pausing before the stone plateau. Larger than a standard forest wolf, his head was almost level with hers as they locked gazes. She knew better than to lower her eyes, maintaining that contact with him meant she kept a semblance of control. It was a power play, a game more than anything, because they both knew that he could pounce and pin her down in an instant.

The breeze ruffled his shimmering coat, fur that she knew would be soft and thick under her fingers, the powerful body beneath it running hot, with thick cords of muscle stronger than most. An apex predator wrapped up in a fluffy, golden coat.

Her pulse was fluttering like a wild thing in her throat. Her eyes were wide, and she could feel the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she pulled oxygen into starved lungs. It wasn’t just the run that made her breathless. It was being in his presence. Standing this close to him made her body sing with fire. It always had done.

He lifted his head, his eyes blinking as his nose snuffled delicately at the air, his jaw opening to reveal huge white teeth that made her shiver, the pale pink of his tongue panting gently as he appeared to brace himself. MC held her breath, her gaze never leaving him as the air around them whooshed inwards like a vacuum, her vision becoming a blur as he shifted and twisted before her until the wolf was gone.

Instead, there stood before her a tall, naked man, lithe and strong with freckled skin, his hands large but blessed with long, graceful fingers. His head was a mass of golden and copper curls, falling down about his ears and over his forehead, the colours so similar to that of his wolf coat. His eyes were the same deep emerald green, human shaped and framed with long, copper lashes, but they gleamed with the same predatory glow.

Looking at him now made her heart thud even harder, her skin taut with anticipation as her tongue slid out to wet her lips, her eyes darkening with desire as they travelled over his sculpted flesh.

He stood firm and proud, his manhood impressive against a bed of glorious red curls, the hair spreading upwards to swirl about his navel and dusted across his freckled chest. He was so very beautiful, and her fingers twitched as she longed to feel his warmth.

“Garreth…” Her voice was barely a whisper, but he heard her, his head tilting slightly as he stepped up, barefoot, onto the stone to join her.

“Why do you always run?”

MC smiled at the sound of that deep but soft voice, her breath shaky as her hands clung to the rock face behind her. It was the rush, the adrenaline, and excitement of him bounding after her that made her run. It was knowing that he wanted her enough to chase her down and catch her. She would never outrun him, he would always hunt her down, and yet she gave him that joy of the chase just to see the gleam in his eyes when he finally had her cornered, much like how he was looking at her now.

“You have been gone for two turns of the moon, little bunny,” he said, stepping even closer. “I think I have earned a much longer chase than this.”

“Would you like me to run again?”

Her head tilted back as he moved even closer, always maintaining that eye contact under his stealthy gaze. He looked hungry, gaze dark and dangerous as he placed a hand up against the rock behind her head, her back now firmly pressed against the cool stone as he loomed over her. That incomparable male scent drifted under her nose, dilating her pupils and making need claw up through her insides. She wanted him, needed him to touch her. It had, indeed, been far too long.

“You are going nowhere, little bunny,” he murmured, his gaze lingering over the lines of her face, tongue sliding over his lower lip before his teeth teased at it, savouring the moment of being close, but not quite close enough. “You are mine, now.”

So close now, their breaths mingling as she gasped each one, lips parted as she waited for him to make his words true and claim her. But, he didn’t seem in any hurry as his other hand moved towards the front of her blouse, catching the collar between forefinger and thumb to give it a teasing tug.

One by one, in agonising slowness, he popped each button on her blouse, his gaze burning into hers. When she lifted a hand as though to touch him, he used one finger to push her arm away, barely touching her as he shook his head with a warning gleam in his eyes. Her whimper of frustration was lost on him as he returned his focus to the front of her blouse.

“You made me wait for you, now it’s your turn to be patient,” he said, the taunt on his face making her squirm as her blouse fell open to reveal cotton and lace.

“It was a long two months for me, too,” she said, eyeing his mouth, the temptation of his soft, pink lips making her ache for a taste. “All I could think about was coming back here…to you.”

Gently, he scooped up the cord that hung about her neck, the wolf tooth charm dangling between them. The tooth had been worked with such intricate silver work where it was attached to the cord, ironically making it painful for Garreth to touch it, hence why he dangled it from the cord by a finger.

“You still wear this,” he said, nodding in approval.

“I have never taken it off since you gave it to me,” she said, taking hold of the tooth.

His eyes darkened, copper brows drawing together. “And you shouldn’t. This marks you as mine. No other wolf will touch you whilst you wear this. It is the tooth of my ancestor. It was mine to give to whomever I chose, and it belongs around your neck.”

MC lifted the charm to her mouth, pressing her lips softly against it as she looked up at him. When he had gifted it to her, he had explained that every son of wolf blood received the tooth of an ancestor at birth for protection. As the boy child grew, the tooth would be worn about the neck until the day would come when he would choose a mate to pass the protection charm to. In turn, when the first male child was born to the mate, the tooth would then pass to him, and so on.

MC wore the charm now, Garreth’s ancestor’s tooth around her neck for protection, marking her as his mate, despite the fact that she was a human girl. Garreth had broken with the tradition of his pack in choosing her over a female wolf, the sentiment and gravity of it still managing to steal her breath, even now. His pack would not approve of his choice, and she wondered if he would ever tell them. He would risk being cast out of his pack, alone without his brothers. It was a lot to ask of a wolf, and she feared it was too much.

What if he couldn't do it? What then?

Tipped with silver, the tooth pendant was an even bigger deterrent against other wolves. Even Garreth himself had to be careful lest it burn his flesh, but it had been his idea. Her protection was paramount, and she knew how much it meant to him that she was safe.

“I will never take it off, Garreth. Not for as long as I live, or until a day may come when you need it back,” she promised.

His eyes flared, the pupils dilating as they gleamed, a low growl leaving his throat before his hands finally pressed against her body, pulling her hips against him in a possessive move.

“That day will never come,” he vowed.

MC dropped the necklace against her chest, her hands immediately gripping his shoulders, fingers flexing over the corded muscle she found there as his lips crashed against hers.

The familiar taste of him had her like a starved woman, and she was so hungry, weeks without the feel of him building to this. His bite to her lip was gentle, stirring the ache between her thighs as she parted her lips, welcoming the slide of his warm tongue against hers.

His flesh was hot, taut muscles flexing under her touch, filled with fire and strength as he lifted her easily off her feet. Wrapping her legs about his waist, he held her pressed against the rock as they kissed, her soft moans lost in the cavity of his mouth.

Garreth was the only man to have ever touched her, teaching her how to love with lips and hands, awakening the fire in her flesh that would forever burn only for him. He knew her body, his hands seeking out the gentle curves he enjoyed worshipping, fingers pulling at the irritating fabric of her clothes that blocked him from her flesh. Her skin trembled and ached to feel the heat of his palms, a groan of pleasure sounding in her throat as he ripped her chemise in two to cup the soft globes of her breasts.

“Mine,” he growled, hefting her higher against the rock so he could wrap his lips hungrily over a stiffening peak, devouring her softness with devastating swipes of tongue.

As she dragged her fingers through tumbling copper locks, her head fell back against the rock, her eyes fluttering closed as he tasted her flesh. His hands made quick work of her trousers, her clothes forming a jumbled pile at his feet, uncaring of buttons ripped loose or shredding sounds of fabric. His goal was her, and nothing was going to stop him.

A warm hand slid up her thigh, graceful fingers seeking out the very core of her, probing against slick softness to delve deeply. MC arched her back, gripping him tightly through the devastating strokes of curled fingers as her hips rocked suggestively. Her body opened to him, welcoming him as he drove her ever closer towards sweet release. The heat of his kisses on her throat added to the dizzying spiral, his nose nuzzling against her as he breathed in her scent.

“Let’s get you ready for me,” he said, nipping at her ear as he pushed a third finger into her, stretching her open. He met her gaze, his smirk cheeky, the deep green of his eyes twinkling. “I know you can take me like a good girl, but there’s nothing wrong in having a little fun while we prepare.”

His thumb slid in teasing circles against her sensitive little nub, fingers burying as deep as they would go. The erotic wet sounds her body was making made her bite her lip. She already felt so full, so flushed and desperate, and he had yet to fully take her. Her hand gripped his jaw, the scratch of hair there pleasant against her palm as her thumb caught his bottom lip, her breathless moans making it difficult to form the words needed to tell him how good this all felt.

Speaking with actions, her palm slid down his chest, over taut muscle and copper hair to seek out the throbbing length of his cock. He hummed in approval, pushing himself into her hand, his tip weeping already and she caught it with her thumb in a slow rub. His skin was so hot and like silk, the stiffness of him making it easy to slide her fisted hand along his impressive size.

“I need you,” she managed to whimper.

“Oh, I know, little bunny,” he said, his mouth open and hot against hers. “And you shall have me.”

His large hands grasped her hips, planting her back onto cold stone before turning her around to face the sheer rock face. Smoothing those hands up over her body, he bent her forward, and she planted her palms against the rock, already widening her stance, preparing for what she knew was coming.

She panted with anticipation, looking down at her feet, so small compared to his as he positioned himself behind her. She felt the enticing nudge of him against her flesh, his fingers wrapping into her hair and tugging just enough to pull her head back, her back arching beautifully as he rubbed at her slicked folds again.

“Are you ready, little one?” He asked, probing his fingers and pumping gently.

MC mewled as she nodded. “...please.”

At the first push, his fingers bit into her hip, her mouth falling open at the stretch as he eased into her, muttering his praises as he filled her to the hilt. Her fingers bent against stone, her nails fruitlessly clawing at the unrelenting surface as her walls clenched around his substantial girth.

Everything about him was big and strong, and she was utterly claimed by him, so stretched and full. Desire fluttered at her core, hunger so fierce her whole body trembled around him, and then he moved, drawing back in a delicious slide before thrusting back with a firmer push.

A cry left her lips, her feet lifting until she was on her toes in a wanton attempt to meet his movement. She took a shuddering gasp of a breath and then exhaled with a pleasure filled cry as he began to thrust with pace, her hands sliding and grappling against rock as she aimed to keep her balance whilst taking him so well.

Closing her eyes, she absorbed everything, savouring every fine detail until it filled her soul. The crisp, mountain air against her naked flesh, the full feeling of being fucked whilst being held by strong arms, the grip of his fingers keeping her grounded as her body floated on the edge of deep pleasure.

Around her, nature was playing its own song with air and beast, the distant call of birds vaguely there but lost in the low growls and gasps of pleasure coming from her wolf. Her moans sighed louder than the wind, the breeze lifting strands of her hair to tickle against her sweat coated face and neck.

All the while, the coil of fire in her core was growing tighter with each perfectly aimed thrust, his swollen head rubbing against eager heat, her slick coating them both, seeping from her to dampen her thighs. The slap of skin echoed off the rock surrounding them, the pace quickening with an urgency that had her groaning, heat flaring white hot as her toes curled.

“Oh… Garreth,” she gasped, her head dropping, her hair hanging loose about her face as she felt her core release.

Garreth moaned, pressing his sweat soaked face to her back, buried deeply into her clenching walls as her hips rolled through her climax. His hands swept around to cup her breasts, thumbs rolling over the tight peaks in the most gentle of caresses. Her body pulsed with her pleasure, but her heart thumped with the deepest of love for her wolf.

His hips pressed forward, the bones jutting into the soft flesh of her backside as his hand swept downwards to press firmly against her lower abdomen with a soft groan. It was then she realised that the throbbing pulsation was not just her own, his cock was pumping her full, releasing satisfying spurts of seed deep into her body. She clenched tighter, sucking him deeper until she felt him tremble, his gasping breaths hot against her back.

Wolf!Garreth x F!MC artwork by @written-in-cheese (see link above for uncensored version)

She shuddered as claws dragged across her stomach, looking down to see the monstrous size of them protruding from the ends of his fingers. He had not hurt her, but there were red lines welling up across her flesh. Panting and cheeks flushed, she turned her head to look over her shoulder at him.

His teeth had elongated, his eyes blazing with feral fire, the hair on his chest was thicker, and the veins in his arms were swollen and pulsing as he fought against the urge to fully shift.

His inner wolf was fighting to come out, the sheer force of his lustful pleasure drawing out the beast that lurked beneath his human skin.

“You're so beautiful,” she whispered, her fingers intertwining with his despite the protruding claws.

He closed his eyes, grinding his hips tightly against her backside with a sigh, his seed dripping to the stone below as it seeped from her. His claws slowly began to recede, the fur reducing to the more sparse covering his human form had. When he opened his eyes to look at her again, he was calmer.

“Don't ever leave me again,” he said hoarsely.

Her eyes burned with tears, her throat tightening at the vulnerability in his gaze. She shifted, his thick cock sliding from her as she turned to embrace him. Burying her face into the warmth of his chest she knew that she couldn't leave him. It was an easy thing to promise.

“Say the word, and I will stay by your side forever,” she said, gripping the tooth pendant tightly in her fist. “I know your pack must come first, but I love you, Garreth. This summer was torture without you. I never want to leave this mountain ever again.”

Fingers no longer graced with deadly claws, he caught her chin and turned her face up to his. The softness she found in his gaze filled her with such warmth, her body secure against his, surrounded by his safety.

“My pack knows my choice,” he said, gently caressing her jaw. “Our alpha passed on, and I was supposed to take up the role. It was known that I should follow in his trusted steps, but I stood aside. To be alpha would mean taking a bitch as a mate, and I could not do it. I gave you my pendant and I mean never to ask for it back.”

Her heart squeezed at the news of their pack leader’s death. She smoothed her hand over his chest, lingering over where his heart beat firmly under his ribs.

“I am so sorry for your loss,” she said, her eyes conveying her sadness. “But what of your pack? Are they not angry that you won't stand as their leader now that your father has gone?”

He shook his head, his copper locks tumbling in the sunlight. “My brother will stand as alpha. The pack will be safe with his guidance. He is strong and true.”

“And what of you? What will you do now?”

He cupped her face, his nose touching hers. “I have chosen my path. I will take you as my own and fill your belly with babies, raise a pack of our own.”

Her throat constricted, the burn behind her eyes strengthening, and a tear escaped to slide down her cheek. “But, I am not a wolf,” she whispered. “Am I enough for you?”

“You will always be enough for me, MC,” he said, his fingers trailing down her chest to touch the necklace. His fingertips grazed over the tooth, a hiss leaving his lips as the silver burned his flesh, but he ignored it, holding up the tooth between them by the tip.

“This will be forever yours,” he said, his eyes intense, the flecks of gold blazing like sunlight in their beds of green. “My father graced me with a tooth of his own. I have it safe. You shall keep this one, and our son shall wear the tooth of my father. Together, we shall be our own pack. You will be all I need.”

Her lungs seemed incapable of drawing breath as she clasped her hand over his, both of them holding the tooth. She was careful to ensure that her fingers prevented him from touching the silver. She would see no harm come to him, no matter how small the hurt.

“I accept,” she said, nodding her head. Meeting his gaze, it was the easiest thing in the world to agree to. “You are all I need, too.”

….*....

The twilight sky was beginning to sparkle with stars, the breeze fresh against her face as MC stood and gazed upwards at such beauty, a small smile lifting her lips as she took in the sight of the pale orb of the rising moon. Her hands smoothed downwards over her stomach, the soft swell under her shawl marking the steady growth of the child that lay within. Garreth’s child.

Arms came around from behind her, the constant heat of Garreth’s body a welcome press against her back as he buried his face into her neck. He hummed softly, his hands seeking out the swell of her belly with firm strokes.

“You should come inside,” he said, kissing her neck with teasing lips. “There will be a frost tonight.”

“Then it is lucky that I have you to keep me warm,” she replied, a soft smile on her lips as she turned to look up at him.

The heat of his kiss warmed her thoroughly, the fire that was ever present between them immediately sparking into something fiercer, his tongue delicious against her own.

She slid her hands into his hair, tugging gently, but he stilled, drawing back from her with a tilt to his head. His eyes narrowed, the emerald green immediately darkening fiercely as a low, rumbling growl began in his throat.

He turned in a blur, his hands ensuring she was placed firmly behind him, her heart skipping a beat as she saw a huge wolf step from the lengthening shadows.

“Hello, brother,” Garreth said, his voice a deep rumble in his throat. “It has been a while.”

The other wolf was impressive, his coat a beautiful blend of darkest brown and shimmering copper, his eyes a stunning blue that seemed to gleam like ice in the fading light. MC gripped the back of Garreth’s clothes, her heart in her mouth as the wolf stalked a bit closer, his huge paws making no sound against the ground.

Garreth's hand was about her wrist, holding her behind him, his thumb stroking her softly in comfort. She knew his eyes would be blazing with the feral beast within. She could feel it in the tremble of his muscles as he stared at the wolf he had called brother.

The wolf paused, lifting his head to sniff at the air, his stunning blue eyes lit with intelligence and understanding. To her shock, he bowed, dipping his great head until his muzzle nearly touched the ground before him, cutting off eye contact with Garreth in an act of surrender.

Garreth stilled, his grip on her wrist tightening subtly. She heard the soft rasps of his breaths as the wolf looked up at him again, tilting its head slightly as Garreth nodded, some kind of unspoken communication taking place between them. Garreth relaxed his grip and gently urged her out from behind him.

“It's alright,” he said, taking hold of her elbow. “He wants to see you. He won't hurt you.”

MC stepped out from behind Garreth, one hand placed protectively over her rounded stomach. She eyed the wolf warily, the huge paws and dangerous jaws now so close, his aura of power seeping from him in waves.

“Is this the alpha?” She whispered.

“My brother, Oscar,” Garreth nodded. He, too, placed a hand over her stomach. “He has come to put his blessing on the child.”

MC gasped, her gaze meeting those stunning blue eyes. Curious, despite herself, she took a hesitant step closer to the pack leader, Garreth’s hand still holding her wrist as she stood before the towering frame of his wolf brother.

Again, Oscar's nose lifted to sniff the air before stepping forward to press his snout lightly against her bump, learning the scent of her. Those regal blue eyes lifted to meet hers as a soft rumble sounded in his throat before he turned to nuzzle his head against her.

The urge to touch him was too much, her trembling hand lifting to stroke through the thick, copper fur under his ear. Rather than fluffy and wild like Garreth, Oscar's fur was smoother, his coat a shimmering silk that flowed in soft waves about his dark ears. His eyes closed at the touch, the rumble in his throat softening to a contented sound that sounded strange coming from such an impressive beast.

Garreth cleared his throat and firmly lifted her hand away from the wolf’s fur. “I think that's enough touching for one day, don't you?”

MC looked up at Garreth, slight amusement tugging at the corner of her mouth when she saw the envious scowl on his freckled face. She leaned against him affectionately.

“Don't worry, you're the only wolf for me,” she assured him.

He lifted his chin, his smirk proud as he wrapped his arm protectively around her, his gaze sliding towards Oscar. As the brothers looked at each other, Garreth’s frown returned.

“Don't even think about it, brother,” he said, tightening his grip on her.

MC glanced between the two, feeling a bit left out from their wolf bond conversation. “What did he think about?”

Garreth looked at her, eyes lit with that feral possessiveness that made her blood burn in her veins. “I'm too much of a gentleman these days to say.”

MC's eyes widened, and then she began to chuckle, standing on tiptoe to press an affectionate kiss to Garreth’s lips. When she looked towards Oscar, she could have sworn she heard the rumble of growling laughter coming from him too.

#hogwarts legacy fanfic #garreth weasley #garreth weasley x f!mc #blueraineshadows #werewolf garreth weasley

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